It happened as they were walking to lunch. A moment Chaka would never forget. She and Fey were walking side by side. This in itself was not unusual. Fey stiffened with a slight gasp, and Chaka spotted the entity she loved to tweak overriding her friend's control. Usually such a thing preceded a pearl of wisdom or a warning from the old queen of the west.

What was unusual was to hear those refined and vaguely unearthly tones clearly utter something even the host was not want to say on her own. Eyes wide and breathing on the verge of hyperventilation.

“Oh. Oh, shit.”

…......................................................................

“Alright let's start over. Do you have a penis?”

Just one of the many questions I thought I'd never hear, let alone get asked. But Mr. Williams was always rather blunt. I checked again, to make sure. Nothing but a strangely neat slit, a line where something more used to rest. This was pretty embarrassing. Where could it even go? I wasn't cut or anything. I was pretty sure both kidneys were there.

That doctor didn't fill me with confidence, but he had saved my life. As Mr. Williams friend, I doubted he would do anything to me anyway.

As unclear as the differences between boys and girls were to me, I knew a little. Boys peed standing up, and girls did not.

“Um, no? I had one before!”

I peed standing up before, but there was no way that could work now. Did boys turn into girls past a certain age? But if they did, wouldn't Mr. Williams be a girl? And the other male adults I met? The only other answer had to be that I wasn't normal.

I felt like this was the sort of thing I might have learned about in school. But then again Mr. Williams didn't seem to know either. I was a bit too afraid to ask. After all, here I was causing trouble again.

Worse, I wasn't sure how I could fix it. My hand, twitched towards X. Maybe it (he) knew what was going on?

But then again, wouldn't owing a favor to an honest to goodness magical sword be worse than owing Mr. Williams, or even his friends? Did I dare?

I wasn't happy with how shaky my hands were. I was also having trouble keeping my knees locked. I needed to hurry before I caused even more trouble. Why was I so weak now? I was doing fine earlier... or was I? I hadn't been thinking too clearly earlier. I wasn't sure I was now, but I was doing better than before the fight.

Before I killed that man.

I would need to go to the police and soon. A banging on the door startled me out of the images of blood and the terrible feeling of boundless confidence.

“You alright in there kid?”

“Um, yes sir.”

I was clean, and dry, but I'd forgotten clothes. Mr. Williams had a robe hanging from a hook on the door, so I borrowed that. The bathroom was even messier than it had been when I entered. I wanted to clean it but I was now so hungry, tired, and weak I could barely lift X on my way out.

As soon as I did however, I felt better. X was doing that? The sense came back immediately – not true speech, but a series of feelings and images that I somehow equated with words. X was telling me his sheath was responsible, and that I should keep it tied on.

So I used it in place of the robes belt (which was missing) to cinch the robe shut and opened the door before Mr. Williams could get really mad. He was outside leaning up against the wall with his friend, both of them whispering furiously. They stopped as soon as I appeared.

“Sorry Mr. Williams, it's even worse than before.”

The doctor turned to Mr. Williams and said in a dry voice:

“Congratulations, is girl.”

I was mildly insulted. I wasn't stupid, I knew what the difference was! I mean, it took a really fat guy to have a chest like this, or somewhat like this... I don't think they stood up or out this much on guys. Or even most girls. where women could have them all the time.

On the other hand, the peeing standing up was gone. There was nothing to aim anymore. I hoped I could find out what happened there. At least I could still pee; I was pretty sure not being able to at all would be serious, and require money to fix. And I wouldn't tell Mr. Williams just what I was bleaching in his tub. Not that he should be able to tell, with all the other crap I was responsible for in there.

Mr. Williams took a look inside the bathroom and winced, but turned back to me with thumbs up.

“It's OK kid. I'm not too worried about that. Just go eat; you've got to be starving.. Don't make me throw out the food.”

“Yes, sir.”

His reproach behind me was clear.

“And it's Devon kid, Devon.”

“Yes sir, Devon.”

I'd normally argue, but I wanted pancakes and I wasn't sure how long I could stand. That and I really wanted those pancakes. It'd been years since I had any, and if no one else wanted them then they were fair game.

I was into my fourth pancake, and starting to realize I was eating like a starving wolf when Mr. Williams – Devon - came back. He settled in to eat himself. The groceries he'd brought back were missing from the corner; he must have put them up while I was showering.

My pack was where I'd left it, still half open. I tried to remember, but I think I was now out of spare clothes. At least ones I could still wear without getting arrested for public indecency. I guess it would make it easier to go to the police....

“Alright, I've got another few friends to call. One is a lawyer friend of mine. He will help us figure out what to do now about the cops. The other is a mutant friend of mine, who will help us figure out what to do now about getting you some help.”

“So, I'm a mutant?”

He stayed silent so long that it drew my attention away from the pancakes.

“Yes kid, you're a mutant. Boys don't normally just become girls all of a sudden, and girls don't just manage to jump 15 feet and cut through giants that the army can't bring down.”

That almost ruined my appetite.

“Look sorry for the reminder kid, but no, you're not normal.”

Well there went that vain hope. It was going to be hard to avoid the notice of my fellow street punks now. They always seemed to either treat girls better or treat them worse... but they never ignored them. I wasn't sure what sort of attention I'd get, but I'd have to work twice as hard to hide now.

“You should have brushed your hair. Hmm... OK kid, you stay here. Eat as much as you want. I got to make those calls. We will get all this sorted out, no problem.”

I wasn't really worried. I was doomed, and what will happen will happen. Here I was worrying about how I'd be treated when I'd likely spend the next 20 to life in a cell. Self defense or not, if there was a chance to throw the book at me, they would. Street people were hated; it was a universal constant.

More than a few of my old friends were currently in jail of juvenile hall for various offenses. While I was sure a few of them were guilty, I doubted they all were. And they were all there for less reason than I had.

I had ended a human life. Whether it was the right thing to do or not, I had ended a human life.

Comforting waves of love, approval, and other more complex emotions flowed from X to me. He knew I'd saved lives today, and appreciated it. He would, even if no one else would. The cops would try to take him away... but he wouldn't go. His comforting presence would stay with me my entire sentence, for however long that was. It felt like a warm blanket on a cold winter's day.

That and my stomach (now full) was contributing to a more real feeling of warmth. I stifled a yawn with my now free hand. I was so tired all of a sudden. I fought the urge to just slide, boneless, off the chair to the floor. I barely made it to the couch, which was only a few feet away.

I was a little cold with just the robe, but not enough to move or care.

I looked up to see the doctor friend of Mr. Williams staring down at me, absently chewing on a boiled egg. It looked good, perhaps I should have tried those. It occurred to me I didn't know his name.

“Sir?”

“You can call me Dr. Sergei. Everyone else does. How do you feel, eh?”

“Very tired sir.”

I tried to keep my eyes open. It was so hard just to open them. My body felt as if it were made of lead; like I was one of the park statues.

I did manage to open them again briefly when I felt a comforter fall against my body. It's weight adding to my warmth again almost immediately. It's weight was the final blow to my eyes; as if it were also over my face and holding my eyes shut. A slight struggle to move and the battle was completely lost.

….........................................................................

Devon Williams hit the stairs before the call to his lawyer went through. Arnold Edison was both a business lawyer (focusing on incorporating businesses and tax law) and a defense attorney. He had done more than a few stints as a public defender, which was where they met.

That incident was what led Devon to stop drinking; at least at bars. He was good enough to get an acquittal in a slam dunk case; boxer or not, 3 on 1 was considered self defense, and they weren't even permanently hurt. Since then he had been acting as Arnold's personal trainer, for over 10 years.

It hadn't helped; he was still the pasty overweight jolly fat man Devon remembered, just with a few more lines on him. He just lacked motivation, and slacked whenever he could. Like now, it'd been a good six months since the last time h stepped into the gym.

But while he wasn't consistent, he always showed, and never paid when he did. They both knew Devon wanted a lawyer on retainer, knew Arnold was the best he could get, and knew Devon couldn't really pay Arnold's fee normally. Arnold played along to the favor for a favor idea without admitting as much; even accepting the offers to socialize on rare occasions.

The call for mid day was unusual; and Devon knew Arnold would know immediately what that meant.

“Bark at me, big dog! You alright?”

Good, he answered personally, not his secretary.

“Yeah I'm good. I wasn't hurt, and the Gym is untouched. I assume you heard what happened?”

The voice was bluff, with no trace of any concern that Devon was sure was there. That was just the type of guy big Arnie was.

“Yeah, news has your area looking like a war zone; all we need is the sand and we could shoot a movie there.”

Devon could hear the question: 'the included area has your gym in it, how is it untouched and what does this have to do with me?' Arnold always faintly un-nerved him with his brain; he always seemed able to make those crazy leaps in intuition that TV lawyers could just before they unmasked the villain.

“Look, I know it's after lunch and all, and you likely have all kinds of business going on, but can you come over? I'd rather not say why on the phone, but it directly involves the events that just took place a bit ago, and I could use your help.”

That was key to dealing with Arnold – appeal to his curiosity.

“Well I do have a few appointments, but in light of recent events I can reschedule them. I'll just claim a family emergency; that's believable enough.”

Big Arnie didn't have any family, he was a lifetime bachelor. He always joked that his clients were his family. No doubt the appointments he was rescheduling would get the joke. It was very likely they would even laugh along and allow it. Devon had, more than once.

“Roads are still blocked, but I'll find a way. Be there inside an hour.”

Never one for pleasantries, Devon just muttered thanks and hung up.

In his hurry to deal with other things, he hadn't been able to take full stock of who was in today. It turned out that it was Bill Reynolds, who wasted no time running up.

Bill Reynolds (please, call me biff) was one of those guys that wasn't quite bleach blond enough, and wasn't quite buff enough to pull of the California surfer boy look. That didn't stop him from trying. He even owned a surf board, though he never vacationed anywhere with a real wave beach. He was dumber than a box of rocks... but he could motivate people to train, and that as enough to earn him a job.

“Boss, you seen what's going on outside? What happened?”

“Just the national guard stopping a dangerous mutant.”

Devon winced internally. True or not it was a bad choice of words and he knew it the moment they escaped. Bill 'call me Biff' would have the rumor spread from here to Istanbul before nightfall.

“A mutant huh? Not good. They got him? It's safe now?”

Devon ruthlessly suppressed the image of a giant split in half by the little slip of a thing upstairs; blood and gore bathing her in an awful shower.

“Yeah it's safe now. Well sort of. The guard did drop some bombs or missiles or something, and some of them might have been duds. Also I'm not sure all the buildings starting a block away are stable. My advice is if you're heading out for lunch or something, head the opposite direction. I doubt you'll be able to get past the police cordon anyway.”

That had been set up in a hurry; he almost hadn't gotten the kid out in time. While one more set of injured civilians might not have been worth noticing, that blasted sword might have. Plus the cops might have wanted them to get emergency care, and that could have led to some awkward questions.

“Well I was thinking of a late lunch. There isn't anything in the vending machines, and the power is out anyway.”

Not one word about his mother, who while she lived far enough away, might still have been hurt in this mess. Just his stomach.

“Yeah, go ahead. Before you do though, anyone in the Gym?”

“Well we had a few people run in, you know, taking cover. But when the sounds increased and the crunching began, they lit out. The only one here now is Liza. She's in the back, waiting for the all clear.”

In the back meant the ladies' room. The one room safe from Biff's advances, once he decided to get going, pouring on that false California charm. Liza was likely too nervous about what was going on to deck him again, and so she hid. Not that Devon blamed her; the ladies room was probably the safest spot in the building from a rampaging giant mutant guy.

And Liza wasn't the absolute best person for what he needed next, but she was close. A true force of nature. More importantly though she was trustworthy, had no relatives to worry about, and lived in apartment on the other side of town. She came to this Gym because her dad had been one of Devon's biggest fans, and he tried to do right by her.

Devon knocked politely.

“Liza, you OK in there? It's safe to come out, the cops gave the all clear 15 minutes ago.”

The door opened almost before he finished the sentence.

“It's safe? That jackass said he would check, that was a good twenty minutes ago. So it's all clear?”

That sounded just like the idiot.

“Yeah, police gave us the all clear. I saw your car, it's fine, still parked out back. Got some dust on it though.”

Her car was some little Korean hatchback he didn't know the name of... but she was fond of it, and he wanted to stop her from running out on him before he could ask the embarrassing questions he needed to.

“Look, I was out in it, right? I made it out, but I also had to save someone; a girl. Well she made it out OK, or mostly so... but her clothes didn't. Could you do me a favor and get her some? Hand me downs would be great; no need to go new or anything.”

His wallet was already hurting from the food. He didn't need any more expenses... but he would pay if he had to. She had saved his life.

Liza looked at Devon with a hint of suspicion.

“Why don't I just go check on her and see what she needs. Your place open?”

“Yeah it is; I have Sergei seeing to her now. I didn't trust the first responders. Sure you need to go up there though?”

If anything that just annoyed her more, and she stormed away.

“I don't trust that old fight hack, either. And yeah I need to see her first hand, judge her sizes, make sure you two aren't doing something hinky.”

“Well who better to know about possible concussions than a fight doc? He's seen a million of 'em!”

The lies kept piling up, but that should keep her from wondering about any strange thing the kid might say while stuffing his... her face.

A quick glance as he rushed in between the rings of the main hall showed the door closed at least; Biff managed to do that much. Devon doubted he needed to close up completely, but better to be safe than sorry. He took the detour and locked up. Biff had a key after all, as did more than a few of his regulars, and some of his equipment was expensive.

He was only mid way up the staircase again (he was getting too old for this crap) when her not so dulcet tones wafted back to him.

“Oh for the love of... just a robe? Nothing else survived? And what's with the sword?”

He managed to get up the stairs again. Liza was hunched over his couch, staring at the sleeping pink haired beauty ensconced within. She had removed the comforter from her; it was his comforter, from his bed. Apparently Sergei had been busy. She was peacefully sleeping away despite Liza's strident nature.

“You're welcome to check her clothes out if you don't believe me. They are in that plastic bag over there. I let her use my shower, and now she's apparently conked out. She got clipped by some pavement the giant threw. Sergei?”

“Standard results from shock and wounds, nothing serious. I will keep eye on her to make sure.”

Liza grilled him.

“You sure Sergei? She can sleep with her concussion?”

He didn't miss a beat.

“Sure. I will keep watch.”

“Right. OK, she looks about a size 5 or 6... damn, is she a model or something? Come to think of it, she looks familiar. About 5 foot 6, so that kind of leaves out a well known model at least, they all need to be taller... wait!”

She rounded on Devon so fast he was surprised she didn't spin like a top a few extra times.

“Is this the kid you keep around to clean the place?”

He nodded.

“Wow, she cleans up well. That was some growth spurt she had.”

She made a point of noticing the food on the table.

“You've been feeding her better than I thought too. What's really going on here?”

Devon made a point of stepping back, hands behind his back. The relief he felt when she mistook the kid for a girl in the past was something he very carefully did not show. A quick glance revealed the truth; for all that it had been an issue in doubt before, there was absolutely no doubt now. She could be wrapped in that comforter to her face, and it would be just as obvious.

“Hey, it's not like that! She just helps me clean the place and I try to do right be her, that's all. I saw her get hurt, and brought her back here in order to recover; you know how I am.”

She silently conceded the point, and placed the covers back under the new girl's chin.

“Alright, I'll be right back. I won't knock or announce myself... I'll just come up.”

The message of 'if you're doing anything bad here to her, I'll catch you at it' was received loud and clear. Devon didn't take offense, knowing that it was aimed mostly at Sergei, who she didn't trust or respect. Besides, that was just how Liza was.

“By the way, what's the kid's name? I never got it before.”

Now that question put Devon in a bind. He knew the kid's real name, but it wouldn't do to call him... her by it; it would make Liza question his sanity. So as he looked at the cascade of pale pink hair floating around the kid he said the first thing that came to his mind.

“Rose. Rose Campbell.”

“Rose huh? Pretty name. Alright, I'll be right back with clothes for Rose.”

And she left in complete silence, proving that she could navigate his place as well as he could.

“That woman... does not trust me.”

Devon never got why Sergei felt the urge to state the obvious occasionally. Perhaps that was the reason why Liza hated him? Or well, one of the reasons. With a shrug, Devon sat down, motioning Sergei to do the same.

No sense letting the food go to waste, after all.