Robin, The Nighthawk in "Fire on the 14th" by Roberta J. Cabot This little interlude is set somewhere just before the events of Chapter 45 of the still-unfinished story, “Danny.” This does not materially contribute to that story, but is more like “a day in the life” type of story of the main character, Danny, though, in this particular one, it's Danny in his Robin persona. This story can stand on its own, somewhat, but it would be good to read Danny, unfinished though it is, to get a background on the story and characters (see http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14774/danny). Note that this is one of “Danny's Other Stories" (see https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book-page/72894/dannys-other-...) and, like all of Danny's Other Stories, though this little vignette slots into a yet-to-be-posted part of the main story, it doesn't have any spoilers, so present and future readers need not worry. Also, please note that the characters Kris Keys, Ray Lomax, Dani Marks, Sheri Kirsch, Heather Davis, Vee, Rita McFadden, Liz Keys, Miss Bonsai and Colonel Harris are from the fictional universe of The Center by Lilith Langtree. No infringement is intended: they have been mentioned in passing, in connection with another one of Danny's Other Stories called "Playing the Part: Counterfeit Crusader" (see https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/fiction/29402/playing-part-co...).

***** (Danny) *****

It was nearing nine AM - still an hour to go before my show was over, but I was already beat. Ever since Mario switched our gigs to Fridays, I've never gotten enough sleep on the weekends. Not that I'm complaining: this was the most fun part of the week, after all. Friday after school, the gang and I would have dinner out, usually at one of our favorite places (dinner would usually be on the band, unfortunetely, heheh, since we're the ones who were actually earning actual money lol). Afterwards, we'd hurry on over to Mario's with our equipment, where we'd change into our outfits (my outfit would be picked out by Danielle, of course), the gang would find us a table to hang out in between sets, the band would set up our stuff on stage, and then when everything's ready, we'd start our first of three sets.

Playing for an enthusiastic crowd was always fun, but the one that would most get off on it was usually Dale, our current bandleader, no doubt contemplating our soon-to-be-realized nationwide success. Heheh.

There would be the usual fans and a growing number of groupies, I guess you'd call them. Thank god the kids that usually showed up weren't from our school (or if there were any from our school, there were so few of them we never noticed). I don't know how... impregnable Danielle's and my disguise would be otherwise.

In deference to my preference (heheh), our songs were usually oldies from the nineties and early 2000s (some from the eighties, even), but none of the guys were complaining. And after rockin' and rollin' all night, we'd wrap up by around midnight, or 1AM at the latest. That meant we'd be home by two, giving me just enough time to have a two- or three-hour nap. And then get up, grab a quick shower, put on the Robin outfit that Danielle laid out for me (which, lately, included a brunette wig), then make-up, then on to the station for my 6AM Nighthawk program, which usually stretches to around ten AM.

Used to be, I'd go do my show just as I was, but after that TV show, I'm afraid Robin was too visible now, just like Dannie, and I had to look the part now when I do my progam.

Except for Tracey, none of the other guys would be with us, and Tracey and I would resent the heck out of the others because they'd all be having a wonderful time in bed, sleeping, while we were at the station.

But that's not strictly true, since we always had lots of fun doing my Nighthawk program (the "Nighthawk" being me, of course, or rather me in my "Robin" persona), while Tracey ran the show as my producer. And given the increasing visibility I now had both as "Dannie" from the band, and "Robin" the deejay, I had to be completely in character all the time, and I mean completely.

This particular Saturday morning, I was in luck because Goodwyn, the station's night security guard, had been rotated to the morning shift (such rotations happened randomly once or twice a month), and Goodwyn was one of the few who were in on the secret. That meant we could be as open with him as we wanted, so I'd usually take advantage and ask him a favor and ask him to get me some early-morning breafast- type take-out food (in our little burg, most of the places don't deliver this early in the day). Mrs. P knew about it, and so long as Goodwyn didn't take too long, it was fine. And it would be fine with Goodwyn, too, since Tracey and I would treat him to breakfast, as well.

- - - - -

I suppose this'd get old after a while, but Tracey and I were still enjoying doing the program, and the people who called in were usually fun and interesting, though we'd get an occassional creepy every so often.

The town's young folk would always tune in to my little program, and, aside from being given a quick lesson in vintage pop music, with songs from artists like The Smashing Pumpkins, Alanis Morissette, Matchbox Twenty, Ace of Base and Garbage (I was told by Mrs. P that we were starting a kind of 90's pop resurgence all by our lonesome), they'd be able to indulge in a lot of fun talk that other early morning programs didn't have.

And, of course, the calls. That was what my program was about, after all.

Currently, I was having some fun talking to Matthias, or Matt as he liked to be called. He called in via the landline number.

He was what was known as a "foley artist." And as I was enjoying my third breakfast burrito and hot chocolate (I took bites during the commercials, or while the caller was talking), and Tracey and Goodwyn were in the producer's booth having egg mcmuffins, I listened to the fascinating work that foley artists do.

These were the people who made sound effects for TV shows, radio shows and movies the old-fashioned way. For example, to accompany the dialogue, Matt would flap gloves around to replicate the sound of flapping wings, or whip around a long, thin bamboo stick to make a whooshing sound, or rapidly shake a large metal plate to make the sound of thunder.

"Sadly, though," Matt was saying, "foley artists are almost extinct in the radio, movie and TV industries. After all, most now have sound effect clips that they can just use for their shows. Heck, you can buy them off the net. Can't really blame the movie people, though. We foley artists are quite expensive, actually."

"I guess that's sad, in a way," I said in my Robin voice. "It's like the loss of a tradition or something."

Matt sighed. "Yeah. I remember my granddad talking about his heydey when he used to do foley effects for a bunch of radio shows back in the fifties,
over at CBS in California, and he'd talk about meeting Rock Hudson, Doris Day and a bunch of stars..."

"Yeah? Wow." I vaguely knew those people, but I'd never admit that to him, especially on air. lol

"Radio used to be more relevant then," he continued. "But I guess you can't blame folks - technology's moved on, and with so many other options available, radio isn't the go-to thing it used to be."

I understand, Matt. But, hey, some of us are still trying..."

"Yeah. That's why I'm glad people like you are still trying to keep it relavant, and keep it going. I guess it's tough to be a kind of pioneer in an old medium."

"Pioneer? Heheh. I'm just a newbie, Matt. And I'm still a kid... well, mostly a kid anyway." I chuckled.

"Don't sell yourself short," Matt said. "You don't know the kind of impact you're making. Mark my words, kid, you're goin' places."

I was never comfortable when chats shift to topics like these. Dad sez I don't like compliments coz I get embarrassed. I guess he's right. "Thank you kindly, sir," I said, making the conversation lighter, and shifted the conversation. "I do my best."

"Hmmm," Matt said, thinking. "Just had an idea - what about I send you my dad's and granddad's collection of foley effects? You can buy them off the internet or in some specialty stores on CD, actually, but I can give them to you you instead. Let's see..." We heard the sound of Matt rummaging through a bunch of CD cases or something. "I can give you a complete set, including a couple of mine, too. Let's see... That makes fifteen CDs chock-full of foley effects. Bet your producer..."

"Her name's Tracey," I said.

"... Tracey... can use them during your show and other shows."

"Wow! Thanks, Matt! What do you say to that, Trace?"

"Thanks so much, Matt!" Tracey interjected via her own plugboard in her producer's booth. She was excitedly looking at me through the window with her thumbs up. "That's great!"

Matt laughed. "My pleasure, darlin'. I'm glad that you, Robin and a bunch of others are keeping things running. Keep the faith, kids. Girl power!"

Tracey and I laughed.

"'Kay, Matt. Thanks for calling, and keep in touch."

From the corner of my eye, I saw Goodwyn open the door to the bullpen and stepped out while Talia came in for her show. Goodwyn was no doubt going back to doing "security guard stuff."

Talia waved through the window and made a funny face, as usual, trying to get me to laugh on air. She went into the "producer's booth" so she and I could segue seamlessly into each other's program without the need for a commercial in between. It's something the two of us were known for during the few times when her schedule shifts and conicides with mine. But since she was a bit early, she waited patiently for us to finish.

"I guess we have time for one more quick call before I turn you folks over to the beautiful queen of the morning commute, Talia Roberts. So who do you have for us, Tracey?"

"Guess what, Robin," Tracie said, "it's our old friend Valerie!"

"Valerie? Ohmigod. Hey, girl, how you doin'? How's the world of Linux programming?" I chuckled.

"No time for that now, Robin," Val said. "I just called to let you guys know that there's a big fire downtown."

"What!"

"Yes. There's a fire over in the Jackson Residential Building."

Jackson was one of the older buildings in town, and provided low-cost housing for many of the town's retirees as well as for single professionals or low-middle class income familes.

"Are you sure, Val? I mean, can you see it clearly from where you are?"

"Yes. My folks and I are in the Wheeler Center for a... medical thing, and we can see the Jackson Building plain as day!"

The Wheeler Center was an office building also downtown. It was a nondescript building, except for the fact that it was the town'a tallest building, with its twenty-five floors of offices and tennants (told you I came from a small town), and, from there you can pretty much see almost all the buildings.

"Gotcha, Val," I said. "So what can you see?"

"Robin, I see a lot of billowing smoke coming from the building, with fire occassionally shooting out from the top."

"Shooting out? Ohmigod..."

"Robin," Tracey interrupted. "I've been scanning the police bands - I don't think they know about what Val's talking about."

"Well, they're gonna know - Trace, call the police now. Everyone - guys, everyone who's listening now - call the police and fire department; dial nine-one-one; do what you can to let the authorities know. Go! We gotta let people know. Val..."

"I know, kid. You're gonna be pretty busy in a while. I'll hang up now and let you work."

"Thanks, Val. You may have just saved a bunch of people's lives..."

"Hopefully. I hope it's not as bad as I think it is."

"Talk to you later, Val." And then I hung up. "Everyone - you heard Val: There's currently a big fire in the Jackson Residential Building. If you have friends who live in the Jackson Building, give them a call; find out where they are, and if they're home, tell them to evacuate now; if you're near the building, stay away, and help make a cordon and keep everyone away; keep everyone safe, keep yourself safe, until the authorities get there; if you have factual information, or on-the-scene information; give us a call here: the number's 555-2878; but if you don't, try not to call to keep the lines free.

"I'm going to turn you over to Talia Roberts in a bit, but, again, let me repeat..."
 

***** (Talia) *****

That kid never ceases to amaze me. If I didn't know any better, I think this kid's some kind of professional correspondent or something. She's managed to summarize everything, got the word out and got our telephone number out.

Of course, she's relying on the word of some girl. Hopefully this Val person isn't exaggerating or just looking for attention.

But, for some reason, I trusted our sexy litle heartbreaker's instincts and decided to carry the ball for her.

"Trace," I said to Robin's producer, "it's still early..."

Tracey shrugged. "Yeah, but I think Robin is planning something. So, would you be okay for me to turn over..."

I nodded. "Yup, yup. Now go and leave already, and let me start my show." I gave her a wink to let her know I wasn't being a dick.

Tracey nodded. She scanned her board and adjusted everything that needed to be turned off or tuned to zero.

By tradition-slash-custom, she got up from the chair and tapped me on the shoulder twice to indicate she's transferring the booth. I nodded, sat down, and gave the standard response, which was a thumbs-up, meaning I'm officially taking over.
 

***** (Tracey) *****

After a quickie, sign-off, Danny, I mean Robin, and I met in the bullpen. "So what's the plan, boss?" I asked her.

"Trace, I think we need to go on-location and cover the fire. People need to know what's happening."

I looked at her in growing excitement. Wow. First field assignment!

"What about the guys?" I asked. "They'll be here in a few minutes. What about our brunch? What about your band practice?"

"This is more imporant, Trace..."

"But..."

"We'll make it up to them, Trace," she said. "I promise. So, let's go! By the way, what do we need to cover the fire?"
 

***** (Danny) *****

Before rushing out, Tracey grabbed a bunch of stuff from the cabinet in her mom's office, put them in a big backpack and thrust the backpack into my hands.

She then went to the receptionist's desk. She shooed me out of the office and threw her purse at me, saying to meet her by her FJ Cruiser, and then she rummaged through the posters and other junk by the desk.

She clearly knew what she was doing, so I just passively went to the basement with not one peep, and went to her Toyota. I used the fob on the keyring inside her bag and opened the doors.

The big backpack was awfully heavy, and I felt a bunch of hard, heavy things with sharp edges in there. I sat in the back seat and looked at what she had inside the bag.

There were a pair of walkie-takies in a box with two earpieces - each looking like a wired iPhone earphone with mic, but with only one earbud instead of two; a packet that had two earphone extension cables; a Canon 80D as well as one wide lens and one really long telephoto lens in separate carry pouches; something that was obviously new and said it was a "gimbal stabilizer" on its still-sealed box, plus a separate "gimbal shoulder mount holder," also new and also still in its sealed box; a square black gadget labeled a "Blackmagic Web Presenter"; another boxy gadget labeled a "Teradek VidiU Pro"; a hotshoe-mount LED floodlight; what looked like a 110VAC battery pack-inverter; a battery-powered amber emergency bubble light with a suction cup at the bottom; and a Lenovo ten-inch Android tablet.

I had an idea what all this tech was going to be used for, but left it to Tracey to tell me. Tracey and Mrs. P clearly haven't thought about equiping a field person for remote broadcasts yet coz this was too slap-dash and complicated. Maybe later, they will.

It's been fifteen minutes already - Tracey should have been here by now... Putting everything back in, I jumped out of the car and found Tracey had already come down. She was currently taping rectangular paper signs with our station ID and logo onto the car's doors.

Tracey explained that she cut them out of a couple of posters for Sally and Harry's program. Anyway, what was left of the posters were a pair of two-foot by two-foot squares that had our logo and the legend, "KRPQ News and Current Affairs" above it. Using magic tape, Tracey taped them to the doors and made sure to stick on the tape flat, and rub the tape down, making it practically invisible and securing the paper very firmly. The signs didn't look jury-rigged at all.

She rummaged through the backpack and came up with the bubble light, smacked it down smartly on the roof just over the driver, tugged on it to make sure it was securely suction-cupped, and turned it on. The amber light came on and started to rotate. She then pushed a button on the dash and extended the car's two radio antennae from the car's roof. She wasn't really going to listen to the radio, I'm sure, but did it to make the car look more... newsy, I guess.

"Et voila!" Tracey said. "Instant news van!"

I looked at her and the car with admiration.

"Well?" she said after jumping in. "Get in already!"

"Yes, ma'am!" I said, grinning while I saluted, and jumped in.

"Don't tell mom but I got a police scanner," she said. "She won't be too happy about it." She sped up the ramp, then out onto the street, and then started to drive towards the Jackson Residential Building. "It's what I used upstairs earlier."

I nodded, accepting the rectangular device that was the size and general shape of an old-timey transistor radio, complete with antenna. I turned it on and tuned it until I got the police band for our local area, and we listened in.

"Dispatch, dispatch," someone said on Tracey's police scanner, "the fire's really getting bad. ETA on the fire department?"

"Fire department says they're on route - fifteen to twenty minutes maximum, Roy," the dispatcher replied.

"Thanks, Sheila. But you better ask them to step on it. The fire's starting to come down. It's on the fifteenth now, but it'll spread to the foureenth and thirteenth any minute."

"Relaying your message, Roy. The chief sez they're doing their best. How's the evacuation?"

"Pretty slow - the building's full of residential folks, with a lot of elderly people and kids, so you know how that can be. But we got the top floors evacuated already."

"Good work, Roy. Hang in there. I'm sending over more backup."

"Thanks, Sheila."

From there, we could hear Shiela the dispatcher calling in more police, and several of them responding. Small town police were very casual.

In minutes, we were there, and screeched to a stop at the police barricade.

Tracey handed me a three-by-four card attached to a lanyard, plus an ID holder with a pin. "Put the lanyard around your neck, and slip your ID in there," she said. "That way, the cops will know that we're legit. Here." She also handed me the broken wireless mic from the booth, but it now had a cardboard cutout pasted on it that said "KRPQ." Just like those mics you see reporters use.

I looked and Tracey was wearing a lanyard as well, and her ID was clipped to her leather jacket. The white card on her lanyard said "PRESS - KRPQ Radio" in big red letters, just like mine.

I grinned. Seems Tracey had been working on the computer and the printer while I was rummaging through her pack.

"Tracey?" I said, "you know this mic's busted. How..."

"That's just for show, Danny, oh, I mean Robin," she giggled. "You'll actually be using this."

She got one of the little walkie-talkies I saw earlier. She switched it on, fiddled with its keypad for a bit and plugged in one of those earphones. She had me turn, clipped the radio to the back of my jeggings, and I put the earphone into my left ear, the little mic was just at the right point so it could pick up my voice. With the walkie and the earphone's wire underneath my fancy borrowed jacket, I knew they wouldn't be too noticeable.

"Okay," Tracey said, and started to explain: "It's been encrypted - no one will be able to understand our talking. It's a two-channel walkie and it's gonna be permanently on, meaning I will hear everything you say, and you will hear everything I say. And everything we say will go directly on the air unless I press this button." She demoed on her own radio. "So watch what you say. And use the wireless microphone like a prop so you can act like a TV reporter."

"Will you be able to pick up other people's voices?"

The walkie's earphone pickup has a minimum three foot radius, so whoever's in front of you, I will hear. Just make sure you're facing them, 'kay?"

I breathed deeply, trying to calm my nerves.

"Okay," I said finally. "I'm set. How 'bout you?"

Tracey had the Canon camera mounted on the "gimbal stabilizer," which was mounted on the shoulder thingie which was, in turn, straped to her shoulders. A wire went from the camera to the backpack, which she was wearing on her back. There was also a wire going from her walkie-talkie into the backpack (the walkie-talkie was clipped onto the shoulder thingie's harness), and she was wearing the earphone. Undoubtedly, the rest of the equipment was in the pack and running.

She was talking to Morgan on her smartphone's hands-free speakerphone.

"Morgan, I'm going to have the streaming video up. Be sure to have the link running on the website. You call me if there's an issue. Be sure to coordinate with Talia, okay?"

"Got it Trace," Morgan replied. "Anything else?"

"Have her announce us on the air, and get her tech to have the audio from the streaming video spliced into her board."

"I got Jerry on it."

"Great. Signing off now!" She clicked off her phone. "I'm set," she said to me. "Let's go!"

We stepped out and started making our way to the policeman who seemed to be in charge, all the while she had the camera pointed at me and I had the fake mic out.

"I take it Morgan's at the station?" I asked.

"Yes. The whole gang, in fact. They arrived while I was printing. I explained to them what we were doing and where we were going, and they promised sit tight at the station until we're back." Tracey pulled the tablet out of the backpack and tapped on the screen. At the moment, I saw on the tablet that there was a static picture of the station's logo on the streaming video channel.

"Okay, Robin," she said. "I'm going to start it in five, four, three, two..." and then she pointed at me.

"Hello, everyone," I said into Tracey's Canon EOS camera, "this is the Nighthawk, live on streaming video. We're currently here at the Jackson Residential Building a few minutes from KRPQ headquarters, where a fire has broken out. I'm here with officer..."

I turned to the policeman in front of me, holding out my fake mic.

"Sergeant Roy Gibbons, miss."

"Sergeant Gibbons, can you tell us what exactly's happened?"

"Well, about twenty or thirty minutes ago, we received a call from a concerned citizen and he said that a fire had broken out on the top floor of the building." (I wisely held my tongue and didn't say that it was my program that got these people to call them) "As far as we know at the moment," Sergeant Gibbons said, "it was mostly accidental in nature."

Tracey had moved in to get a better two-shot.

"How about the evacuation, Sergeant Gibbons?" I asked.

"It's slow going," he said. "It's a residential building, and there are a lot of children and old folks, and the fact that the building only has a few elevators and only two fire escape stairwells is impeding the evacuation."

"Is there any way to speed that up?" It was very frustrating for me to just listen. I wanted to help, but I knew I'd just get in the way.

"Not really," Roy said, "although as soon as the fire department arrives, the spread of the fire will be under control."

"The fire department isn't here yet?"

"There's a problem - the town only has one fire department, and it's at the farthest end of the town from here. Their ETA is fifteen minutes."

"Won't that be too late by then?"

"Oh, no. The building's within code so..."

At that moment, there was a scream from the bystanders, and we all looked up.

I turned back to Tracey's camera. "It seems that, from what we can see, a large portion of the building's upper floor has just collapsed, and burning embers and debris have started to fall on the street. No one has been hurt so far, and the burning debris are being put out by the police and some of the bystanders..." Tracey got shots of the people as well as shots of the roof. She had on the wide lens at the moment, so the roof shots would probably not be too nice.

The air was suddenly filled with the wailing of fire truck sirens. I gestured to Tracey, and she got good footage of the arriving fire trucks while I did some monologuing.

Someone from the lead truck jumped down and started directing the firemen. The first thing that they did was connect their hoses to the fire hydrants, and as soon as that was done, firemen climbed up to the ladders - one to each ladder - and hung on as the ladders extended upwards. However, the ladders didn't reach high enough - at their maximum extension, they only reached approximately as high as the twelfth floor.
The firemen on the ladders switched on the fire hoses mounted at the end of the ladders. They started spewing out a steady stream of water, but with only two of them, plus the fact that they were a little lower than where the fire currently was, they were hard put to properly cover the fire.

As all this was happening, I gave a blow-by-blow, and I did my best to channel Anderson Cooper, that is, if Scarlett Johansson was playing Anderson Cooper in a movie... However, what I really wanted to do was help. But I knew I'd just be getting in the way if I did.

"As two firefighters spray the blazing sections of the building," I said in my best Robin voice, "several are keeping people away since debris dislodged by the water may hit them. All the other firefighters have started to enter the building while police continue the evacuation. Let's see if we can find out what the fire department has planned."

I started making my way to the chief. As soon as I got near, the chief noticed me.

"What do you want?" He said gruffly.

"Hello, Chief?..."

"I'm Fire Battalion Chief Nelson Smith."

"Good morning, Chief Smith. I'm Robin. I'm from KRPQ radio..."

"Just call me Smitty. Everyone does. You're from KRPQ?" He looked me up and down.

"Ummm, yes, sir."

"Hmmm. Would you happen to be the Nighthawk?"

"Ummm, yes again?..."

"My daughter's a big fan."

"Ahhh, that's good to hear, sir."

"And I'd like to thank you for raising the alarm. You may have saved some people. Well, young lady, make it quick - we're very busy, as you can see."

"Ah, yes, sir. I was just going to ask what your plan of attack is."

"We're going to make what we call fire breaks. That means, when my guys get to the fire, they're going to cut out sections of the wooden floor and walls where the fire is, as well as on the floor below. That' so that the fire can't spread out to fresh parts of the building. And then we are going to wet down the rest of of the floors below and at the fire. My guys are going to the water access cabinets on the floors concerned now to start doing that."

I looked at the fire chief. "You don't look happy, Chief."

"Well, it's a fire - no one's happy at a fire. But I guess I'm worried. We found out, en route, that the building's floors are wood. Why are there wooden floors in this building? And why only two fire excapes. A building this size should have more. Plus the fire spread awfully quickly. I can only assume that the water sprinkler system isn't working on the floors concerned."

"Smitty!" someone on his walkie-talkie called. "This is Ted. We're at the fourteenth. The fifteenth totally gutted and this one's a goner. I'm gonna tell the guys to concentrate on the thirteenth."

"Fire breaks won't help, Ted?" the chief, aka Smitty, asked.

"Fire breaks!" Ted scoffed. "There's mostly no floor anymore! I got all our guys evacuated down to the thirteenth and they're wettin' it down now and looking for stragglers. Some of the police said there are some still on that floor. As for the fourteenth, It's just me and Luke left here."

"Civilians?"

"Police sez no more people from the fourteenth up."

"Thank god for that. Did you double-check?"

"That's what Luke and I are doing now."

"Well, given what you said, you and Luke stop what you're doing and get yourselves to safety on the thirteenth. I'll ask the ladder guys to start pumping into the fourteenth floor windows and -"

"Luke!" Ted suddenly exclaimed.

"Ted! What happened!"

"Smitty, the walls between me and Luke just collapsed. Luke's trapped!"

"Goddammit!" The chief pressed the button on his radio. "Luke... Luke! Fireman Hoskins, check in! Dammit, Luke..."

Smitty went up to one of the ladder trucks and talked to the guy in charge of its pumps.

"Increase the pressure," Smitty said to the fireman manning the pumps, "and get the ladder closer to the buidling. We have to help Erica start spraying the fourteenth, near the western side. Luke's trapped there."

"Ohmigod, chief!" I said. "How will you get Luke out." I was desperately wanting to help, and was using as much self control I could muster not to climb up the ladder or go in the building.

"Well," Smitty said, "normally, since we can't get to him from inside the building, we'd get a ladder close to one of the windows and get some people in there that way, but I'm short-handed. All my guys here on the street are manning the pumps or helping with the evacuation, while everyone else is up there in the building itself. Best I can do with such a small fire team."

He looked at some of his people doing crowd control and apparently decided to get a couple of them to climb up and get Luke. As he was going to them, there was another explosion, and another shower of debris. The fireman manning the ladder truck's pumps exclaimed. "Chief!"

Smitty looked back and saw the guy pointing up. We looked and saw the firefighter up on the ladder, Erica, slumped, hanging precariously on the ladder's rungs, her fire hose pointing downward instead of at the building, and uselessly raining water on everyone. Thank god she was in the ladder's basket or gondola or whatever you call it, otherwise, she'd probably have fallen.

"Goddammit!" the chief said.

I couldn't take it anymore and decided to do something.

"Hey, kid!" The fireman at the fire truck's controls called and tried to snag me, but I was too quick and was already on top of the truck and climbing up the ladder.

"Robin!" Tracey called. "What the hell are you doing!"

I pocketed the useless mic and used both hands to climb. Thank god I was wearing a pair of jeggings instead of one of Danielle's fancy tight skirts, so I was able to climb up very quickly. So far, when I wear gaffs, I've been scared to tuck my, ummm, jewels into my abdominal cavity, so I try and avoid gaffs when I can. Good thing I was just wearing men's thong briefs this time coz it paid off - I could climb up without getting squeezed to death. I just hoped my thong was close-fiiting enough so it keeps me from spilling out and outing me. Also, the dark-gray color of my pants should help hide my... stuff a bit.

"Goddammit, Robin! Come back!"

"Sorry, Trace," I called back. I was already more than halfway up. I looked down and saw I was all alone, with no one following me yet.

After about a minute of climbing, I found the girl, Erica, unconscious. "The girl's been hit by something," I said to Tracey via the walkie-talkie. "I don't know what, or how, even."

"Chief?" Tracey said, and relayed to him what I just told her.

"Okay," Robin said, "the chief said that the explosion probably blew something at her and knocked her out."

"Sounds logical. Anyway, she's bleeding profusely from a cut above her nose, as well as from the nose itself. It's obviously broken."

"Okay. Someone is gonna be climbing up to check on her. The chief is asking if she's belted in."

I checked. "Yes, she is."

"Good. She's breathing?"

"Yes."

"Good. The chief sez she's fine, then. Keep her head bent forward so the blood doesn't go down her nose and just let it leak out."

"Gotcha. Make sure everyone's clear of the area down there, then." I looked down Erica's torso and saw another belt, so I buckled that around her as well. "Robin, what's this red-colored lever on the side here?"

Robin asked. "The chief says that lever extends the ladder a further twelve feet."

"Huh? Then why..."

"That part of the ladder isn't strong enough for the hose under pressure. That's why the nozzle is permanently mounted where it is."

"I thought so." I made sure my feet were on sure footing, wrapped my arms around the sides of the ladder, and threw the lever.

With the sound of an electric motor whining, the end of the ladder extended some more, bringing me up with it.

When the ladder stopped, I noted that it had brought me parallel to one of the fourteenth floor windows, which was what I was hoping for.

Because of the ladder's angle, I was now only a foot away from the building. In fact, I could stretch out my hand and touch the glass if I wanted.

"Here goes nothing," I said to myself.

"Robin!" Tracey screamed. "Don't do what I think you're thinking of doing!"

I took my belt off, making sure my walkie was still secure, re-threaded it through the two back belt loops of my jeggings, and buckled the belt around one of the rungs. Hope the jeggings were strong enough...

After leaning forward a few times, the pants and the belt looks seem substantial enough and I felt safe enough so I stepped onto the windowsill or ledge - one foot on the ledge, and my other foot still on the ladder. With one hand still on one of the ladder's rungs, I then kicked out with the foot on the ledge, and hit the window with the heel of my boot. I kicked out half a dozen times more and the glass exploded inwards. A wave of hot and smokey air wafted out making me cough and move back.

"Whee-ooh!" I exclaimed. That air was awfully hot.

"Whoa!" Tracey said. "That's a pretty strong kick you got." Tracey probably switched to the telephoto lens and could see me.

"That comes from picking the right parents," I joked. "I decided I wanted good genes, so I picked the right mom and dad." Don't know if Tracey got my joke.

I continued to kick out and got the remaining glass shards to pop out of the frame's crumbling putty. I then unbuckled my belt from the ladder and jumped throught the window.

I rolled into what looked like a corridor. To my left were a bunch of apartment doors, all of them ajar, while to my right was the concrete wall with windows about ten feet apart - the window I jumped through being one of them. The smoke wasn't too thick for me to not see everything, but it was noticeably getting thicker.

"Mr. Fireman," I yelled. "Luke! Are you here? Luke!"

I walked through the acrid-smelling smoke and fumes, coughing occassionally and squinting through the smoke. Knowing that most of the wooden floor was already damaged, I walked gingerly.

As I walked, I tripped on something and, feeling around, I knew I found Luke. That wasn't all I found - he had his arm around an unconscious little girl, his face mask, which was fed by his airtank, strapped to the girl's face.

"I found Luke," I told Tracey, coughing a bit. "He's unconscious, probably from the smoke. That's coz he gave his mask and oxygen to a little girl he found."

"Wow."

"I'm bringing them out to the window now."

"Someone's there at the ladder. Go, Robin! The fire's still spreading. You need to hurry."

I grunted as I lifted the unconscious fireman in my arms, with the little girl lying on his chest. The smoke was thicker now, but I remembered where I was, and what path to follow.

"Dammit," I said to myself, "firemen are fuckin' heavy."

Tracey giggled. "You can do it, Amazon Girl. The chief says that's partly because firefighters are weighed down with a lot of heavy equipment, including the air tank and other things. If he's too heavy, take off his jacket and you'll be taking off almost fifty pounds of equipment."

"No time to take off the jacet! Whee-ooh! You're one heavy fireman, Luke!"

I walked while leaning backward to make sure the fireman wouldn't fall out of my arms, almost hunched over from the weight. My back felt like it was about to break, but I was able to bring the two to the window somehow.

"Kid!" someone called.

I put down my load and, after I got my breath back, I looked out the window and nodded to the fireman who was outside and hanging onto the ladder. "Stick Luke's head out the window so he can have some fresh air!" he yelled.

Crouching down, I took the girl off his chest and put her on the floor for the moment. I then stood Luke up and leaned him on the wall in such a way that his head was sticking out the window.

I then took the girl, but I had to take off the bulky mask and airtank. I carried her in my arms and all three of us had our heads stuck out the window.

The cooler air seemed to have revived the little girl because I felt her move. I looked and, sure enough, the little girl was awake and looking at me.

"The air feels good," she said to me.

"It sure does, honey," I said, and kissed her on the cheek. "Nice and cool, especially after being inside with all that smoke and stuff."

"Yeah," she said. "Are you an angel?"

"No, honey. Just a girl who happened to be around."

"I think you're an angel."

I gently smiled at her. "If you insist."

I looked at the fireman outside. "Cool, fresh air never felt this good!" I said.

"Not exactly fresh," the new fireman said.

"Fresh enough for me!" I laughed. "What now?"

"We got to bring those people down one at a time. This top part of the ladder won't be able to take the weight of all four of us. Pass the little girl through first, and I'll get her down. Someone else will then come up and get you, and then they'll get Luke last."

"No!" I said. "Luke before me!"

"You're a good kid, but rules are rules."

I didn't want to argue - there wasn't time. "How about Erica?" I asked.

"She's being taken down to the paramedics right now."

"Great!" I said as I held onto the little girl.

"Hey! How were you able to get up here so fast? We were watching you, and..."

I shrugged. "I don't know... I climbed fast?"

"Kid -"

"Seriously, man! Just coz I'm thin doesn't mean I'm not fit!"

"Simmer down, kid. Okay, let's do this. Can you secure yourself to something there before you hand me the girl?"

I felt behind me, and my belt was still hanging back there. I struggled to a sitting position on the concrete window ledge, the girl in my arms, and buckled my belt around the metal frame of the window.

"Here you go, Mr. Fireman," I said. Before I handed her over, I snuck a kiss on the little girl's cheek. "You're safe now, kiddo," I said. "See you on the ground later."

"Thank you, pretty lady," she said.

I made sure the fireman had the girl securely in his hands before I let go, and watched him as he climbed down. When he reached the part where the nozzle and the basket were, I knew I could try climbing down now.

I went back in. "Okay, Luke," I said to the unconscious man, "let's do this." I looked at his uniform and I had to agree - with all that junk, he looked like he was at least fifty pounds heavier.

I took all of his equipment off by taking off the thick PPE jacket and pants (the pants didn't have any belts or anything like that - it hung on the man's shoulders via fire-resistant suspender-like things). Of course, I had to take the boots off first.

So, with everything off, it left the guy in a t-shirt, boxer shorts and his fireman's hat and socks. I had to giggle. Oh, well.

I detatched the suspenders from the pants (they had heavy-duty cargo-strap type buckles instead of clips or buttons), sat him on the window's ledge and used one strap to secure his arm to the window frame.

I then used the rest of the straps like a harness, slipping one strap under his arms, which I then clipped in such a way that there were now loops at the ends where I could put my arms through. So I got him hitched to my back now.

There was one left-over strap, which I used to strap around both our middles, sort of like a belt around both of us.

I did all this strapping, buckling, tying and stuff while I had him sitting on the window ledge while I essentially sat on his lap.

When I felt that we were securely strapped together, I took off the strap that attached us to the frame, reached out with both hands and firmly gripped the sides of the ladder.

I took a deep breath, and with sheer muscle power, I managed to wrap my arms around the ladder, and held on to it while I pulled both of us off the window ledge.

Fear and adrenalin can make you do superhuman things, and while I was holding onto that ladder with a superhuman grip, I was somehow able to swing both of us around, all the while I was grunting and almost screaming from the effort and and the burning pain in my biceps.

Now that I was in the proper position, I was able to put my feet securely on top of one of the rungs while I held onto the rung that was level with my face with both of my hands. I stayed there for a minute to rest a bit.

But when thick white smoke started billowing out of that window, I knew I had to move.

With deliberate slowness, I moved one of my feet as well as one of my hands to a lower rung, and then, when they were secure, I did the same with the other foot and hand.

It took me about five minutes to get to where the fire hose nozzle and basket were mounted, and that was when the window where we came from exploded. I froze while little bits of wood and debris showered us.

"That was close!" I said to no one in particular.

And then, after another five minutes, I got us both down to the top of the truck. I guess I was slower at the beginning because I was still getting a feel for the ladder, but as I got into the rhythm of it, my climbing down became faster.

I was shaking with sheer fatigue by then, and had trouble keeping my grip, but when I finally stepped onto the truck, the chief and a couple of his people were there and started unstrapping Luke from me. His two guys took care of Luke, bringing him down and then to one of the ambulances, while I basically crumpled down on the truck in sheer fatigue. My arms trembled, threatening to cramp.

After he gave me a minute to rest, the chief lifted me up and carried me in his arms, almost like a baby, brought me down and laid me on an ambulance stretcher. Two paramedics rolled the stretcher away and to an area where they've been taking people that needed help. There were about a dozen people there, all wearing masks and were being given oxygen. My paramedic also tried to put a mask on me, but I waved it away.

I looked around and saw the little girl was in a stretcher about four feet from me, with a man and a woman who I assumed were her parents. The woman was holding the little girl's hand and crying.

"Thanks, chief," I whispered (I was so wiped out), "but I'm okay."

"Yes. You're totally okay, Robin," the chief said. "You're amazing, in fact."

"Yep," Tracey said, "she is."

"Dammit, Tracey," I said, "get that camera offa me..."

"Okay..." Tracey took some shots of the crowd and the building instead. I found out later that those kinds of shots were called B-roll shots.

"The KRPX guys are here," she said conversationally.

"They are?" I said. "Then I guess it's time for us to sign off, then." As I was looking at the little girl, she turned to me. She smiled and waved to me, and I waved back.

"I'm Phoebe," she said.

"Hi, Phoebe," I answered. "I'm Robin."

"Hi. Robin. You're real pretty..."

In the background, and in my earpiece, I still heard Tracey.

"Okay, Talia," she was saying. "We're gonna shut down now. The TV folks are finally here now, and they can finally take over."

"Okay, Tracey," I heard Talia reply. "Well there you have it, folks, a blow-by-blow field report of the ongoing fire in the Jackson Residential Building downtown by KRPQ's own Nighthawk and her sidekick and producer Tracey, and her amazing rescue of one of the firefighters, overcome by smoke as he himself was attempting to rescue a little girl. The little girl and the firefighter are fine now, as well as our Nighthawk - they're currently being tended to by the paramedics on-site. As to the fire, our latest information..."

I wondered why Talia was talking that way and then I suddenly realized that we were live streaming the whole time. I looked at Tracey, who was looking at me with a small smile on her face. She had the camera down by her side now, and I couldn't hear her or Talia in my ear anymore, so I knew she wasn't transmitting anymore.

"Tracey, you fink," I said mildy, and she laughed out loud.

"What's so funny, Robin?" Phoebe asked. She was standing beside my stretcher now, and smiling down at me, her mom and dad beside her.

"Oh, nothing, honey," I said, and reached for her hand.

- - - - -

A few hours later, I was home in bed, sleeping. Needless to say, the band and I weren't able to practice, but Dale and the guys didn't blame me for it.

I begged off being brought to the hospital, and after the paramedics were through checking me out, they didn't protest too much and let me go home

I decided to leave my car in the station's basement parking for now, and asked Tracey to bring me home instead. By the time the guys came by, I had already had a quick shower and, after taking some paracetamol, was sleeping soundly. When I woke up at around eight, the guys were still there. Danielle, Nikki and Morgan were in my bedroom - Nikki and Danielle sitting on the bed and Morgan quetly playing with my old Playstation 4. The rest of the guys were downstairs, no doubt gorging themselves on mom's food. Dammit...

"Hey, sleepyhead," Nikki said, and kissed me gently on the cheek.

"Hey, beautiful," I replied.

"How's our hero" Morgan asked while he sat in front of my TV.

"Still out of it, I think," Danielle said, giggling.

"No, I'm not," I said, and caught myself yawning.

"No, she's not," Danielle said, correcting herself.

"That was amazing, what you did," Morgan said, coming over and tousling my hair. "You did good, bud."

"Thanks, Morgan."

"But you don't ever do that again!"

Morgan then read me the riot act, his point being I could have been hurt or killed, and, worse got other people hurt and killed. Danielle, Nikki an the other girls were of the same mind, but the guys weren't - they were more proud of me than mad. After all, I was "some freakin' hero now, dude," as Mike put it.

I contritely agreed with Morgan and the girls, of course, although, in the back of my mind, I thought that Luke and Phoebe would have died had I not done what I did. I didn't say that out loud, of course.

Later on, I found out that everything that happened, from the moment I started talking with the fire chief until the time I got Luke and Phoebe down, and I was put in the ambulance stretcher, had all been been live-streamed. And with the permanently-on audio, everyone heard each aside, burp, swear-word, self-monologue and side-conversation. As for my... vigorous calisthenics and gymnastics, they saw most of it courtesy of Tracey's telephoto lens. I must have been blushing in combination mortification and shame the whole night as the guys recounted everything.

Yep, the whole thing was on the internet. It was automatically coded and parsed by Tracey's system into five consecutive five-minute videos, and they were all trending.

Morgan had the five files uploaded into YouTube, and he put links to them on the station's website. At that moment, the site's counter was up to two hundred thousand unique hits per video file, but I was sure the YouTube count was much, much higher.

- - - - -

Tracey told us that KRPX had paid the station for rights to our video, but since Mrs. P didn't really restrict access to them, anyone on the net could actually watch the video for free. KRPX still paid, though, so that they could officially put their station and network logo on them (without it, putting their logo on the videos would have gone against Fair Use practices). Of course, Morgan and Tracey put our own station logo to the copies that KRPX got.

Our agreement also gave KRPX carte blanche to edit and shorten the video to something that network TV would like, and, of course, KRPX's national network could pick up and use KRPX's version.

But then, Mrs. P also gave the same permissions to the other two national networks as well as CNN, allowing them the same rights. I'm sure KRPX felt a little miffed by that, but business was business. The station could use the income, plus, with four networks airing it, that meant more free publicity for me, or rather me-as-Robin, and the station.

Of course, KRPX had one big advantage - since they were based in town, they were easily able to supplement our video with their own coverage and people, splicing their video and ours together in such a way as to make it appear that our video was really just a part of their own coverage, especially with our call sign being very close to their call sign. KRPX suddenly started calling us their "sister station," and started calling me "KRPX's very own Nighthawk."

Other more professionally run stations would not have dared to say that, what with network and employee contracts, broadcast rights, copyrights and such, but before Mrs. P could react, it seemed KRPX's network gave them a call, forcing KRPX to quit calling us their sister station and the Nighthawk as "their own." They were also made to air a "clarificatory announcement" later on. That announcement, in part, said, "KRPQ Radio, and Robin, KRPQ's Nighthawk, are in no way affiliated with our network and KRPX TV."

Of course, no one really saw that announcement since they aired it at two AM. That necessitated a call to KRPX by Mrs. P, and they were forced to make the same announcement everytime they re-aired our video.

Ahhh! Sweet revenge.

We didn't actually see KRPX's version. What we did see was CNN's version which, we were told by Mrs. P, was going to be aired on their 9PM Saturday program. The whole gang crowded around our TV in the living room.

With twelve kids in our living room, it was pretty crowded, but no one minded. Everyone was unusually quiet: no doubt they didn't want to bother our folks - they were just upstairs, after all.

Needless to say, mom and dad knew about my moonlighting as Dannie and as a DJ, but, to be honest, they really didn't want to know much more about it beyond that, so Danielle and I never really bothered to update them much.This particular escapade of mine was part of the "not updating them much" thing, so they knew nothing about it. I could just imagine what my dad would have said and done if they knew about this.

I missed dinner, and mom and dad had gone up already to leave us alone, but Danielle saved a plate for me. And as I polished off my second turkey leg while we sat in front of the TV, our program came on.

"Nowadays," CNN's anchor began his program, "most of the nation is quite obsessed with the goings-on in DC and in the government. Sadly, our own network is caught up in this national obsession as well, and much of our national coverage is centered around the government and our leaders, and the scandals and political shenanigans that they indulge in everyday. But, tonight, I'd like to begin the show with something different from this usual fare - something quite uplifting and inspiring for a change. We haven't focused on small-town America enough, and this particular story from small-town America might have been missed, if not for the internet. I'm glad that we were lucky enough to have stumbled over this little piece, so we're showing it to you, and, perhaps, even for a few minutes, you will all feel uplifted and proud that there are still those in our country who exemplify our country's ideals - of others first, and self-sacrifice."

The show shifted to an overhead helicopter shot of our little town. Maybe they got it off Google Earth.

"So we take you now to this little burg somewhere in the eastern side of the country. It begins this morning, with the local radio station, KRPQ, and it's early morning program."

Part of my progam's audio from this morning replaced the sound, and we could hear me bantering with some some girls about makeup, clothes, music and, especially, boys. After a few seconds of that, it switched over to another on-air conversation I had, this time with a bunch of geeky boys, about music, movies games and, especially girls. All this over a panoramic moving sky-shot of our town.

"Doesn't sound like anything special, right?" CNN' anchor said. "But you'd be surprised to hear that this fun little early-Saturday morning program is the most popular program in that part of the country at its time slot, beating the ratings of all of its competition in its particular timeslot, on both TV and radio. Overall, it's the highest rated single program in that area, and that's due mostly to its fans - almost all of them kids.

"It's fanbase is also growing, too - with many of the small stations in the surrounding franchise areas clamoring for syndication rights, and its streaming audio over its website getting the most unique hits compared to any other streamed radio show during that time.

"Why, you may ask is this little program, and therefore its little ten-kilowatt radio station, so successful?"(At that time, the video switched to random pictures gleaned, most probably, from our website.)

"You might say it's the unique call-in talk format. You might say it's the unique target market of young adults, pre-teens, adolescents and, yes, even young kids. You might say it's the squeaky-clean patter of its host, or the relatively unique selection of music it plays, which are almost exclusively eighties and nineties pop songs. It might be the exposure that its gotten on local TV care of a few specials, and the sponsorship of some big companies, including Rockrgrrl, currently one of the hottest manufacturers of musical instruments.

"Yes, if you said those things, you'd be correct. But only partially. You see, the success of the program, and its home station, is largely because of its host."

At that point, they paused the video on the picture of me, or rather Robin - the one that hung in the station's waiting area showing me by the board of the old station in a sassy white top, jeans, ginormous headphones on my head, and with me winking at the camera saucily as I held out a peace sign.

"This is Robin, or the Nighthawk, as her fans know her mostly. Previous to KRPQ, she was totally unknown, and we have had little time to unearth more information about her. But it is an incontrovertible fact that this beautiful young lady is the mastermind of the Nighthawk progam, its unique style and its stong appeal to the youth of their town." They started to show the few pictures we had of Robin from the website, but after they showed the dozen pictures from the site, they had to repeat them in a cycle.

"This young lady is quite talented and unique, and boasts a loyal following, almost fanatic in their devotion to her, which is growing every week. The squeaky-clean content of her shows fit the demographic which her program has targetted to a 'T,' and even the most conservative of radio listeners wouldn't have a problem with her. But there are also racey moments, too, especially when Robin has to deal with some unsavory callers who seem to target young ladies like her. But Robin would dispatch these callers with quiet efficiency that even Howard Stern would be impressed, and all with a gentle charm all her own." In the background, we could hear excerpts from my show where I handled what Tracey calls the "creepeys."

"There is also some ocassional high drama on her show, too, such as the time when she dealt with a suicidal young woman and convinced her not to push through with her plan on the air." We heard some excerpts from that time when I had that chat with Val. I got a bit teary-eyed there, and Nikki and Danielle gave me a hug.

"It wouldn't surprise you to learn that Robin and that girl are now fast friends, and the girl is doing well." I smiled at that, and Tracey gave me a big grin and a wink when I caught her eye.

"This is one exceptional girl, but we just didn't know just how exceptional the Nighthawk was until this morning."

Over my picture, they played Val's call where she told us about the fire. "... we can see the Jackson Building plain as day!"

"And, like any good media person, Robin immediately raised the alarm." They then played part of the last few minutes of my program.

"... there's currently a big fire in the Jackson Residential Building," I said in Robin's voice. "If you have friends who live in the Jackson Building, give them a call; find out where they are, and if they're home, tell them to evacuate now; if you're near the building, stay away, and help make a cordon and keep everyone else away; keep everyone safe, keep yourself safe, until the authorities get there..."

The video showed some news footage of the fire, but artfully edited to show the fire as it was still ongoing instead of being after the fact.

"The word spread like wildfire (forgive the word heheh), and the authorities who, at that time were still unaware of the fire, finally mobilized. Robin's announcement helped save everyone in that building.

"But the young lady wasn't happy with just announcing the fire, as you will see in the following video, care of KRPQ.

"In the absence of any news media on-site, Robin and her producer, Ms Tracey Piper, decided to cover the fire themselves for KRPQ." They then played the opening of Talia's show.

"Good morning, everyone. This is Talia Roberts for KRPQ Radio. I know you guys were expecting my usual program, but we're pre-empting that for the moment. KRPQ News and Current Affairs is cutting in with a breaking news story. Come in, Nighthawk..."

And then they showed the opening footage of my, ahem, 'coverage:' "Hello, everyone," I said into Tracey's camera. "This is the Nighthawk, live on streaming video. We're currently here at the Jackson Residential Building a few minutes from KRPQ headquarters, where a fire has broken out..."

"We have to give Robin, as well as Tracey, props for innovation," the CNN anchor said over my video. "They could well have just covered it as a radio item for KRPQ, but they did one better. She and Tracey, using a lot of talent and innovation, covered the show as well as any TV news team could, and actually live streamed it on the internet."

They showed a closeup picture of Tracey shooting video with her Canon camera. "Like many vloggers do, Tracey and Robin used used a video-capable DSLR camera, a radio microphone, and off-the-shelf hardware and software to post their piece on the internet." They then showed an excerpt from our coverage, mostly me trying to act like Abby Hunstman.

"The coverage was more than competent, even though it was a bit hamstrung by their limited equipmen,t but the dynamic duo of KRPQ News and Current Affairs did a bang-up job. Not even CNN war correspondents could have done better.

"Ultimately, though, it was just a fire in a small town, in a residential building where no one was hurt. What made it interesting, at least to us here, is this..."

"Hey, kid!" The fireman at the fire truck's controls called as he tried to snag me while I climbed up the ladder, and Tracey calling me on the walkie-talkie: "Robin! What the hell are you doing! Goddammit, Robin! Come back!"

"Sorry, Trace," I replied, puffing a little as the video showed me climbing the ladder rapidly, my jeggings-encased booty wiggling noticeably.

"Woohoo!" Mickey exclaimed. "Sexy butt!"

"Shadapp!" Joanne said, and threw a cushion at him.

Thank goodness for the dark pants and the late morning shadows - no telltale outlines were evident. I did note to myself, though, that I need to wear gaffs more regularly.

The video then cut to me checking out Erica, the girl firefighter who was knocked out, and me sticking my hand out and giving the people down on the ground a thumbs-up sign, which was greeted by a cheer from the people on the street.

The video then cut to me at the top of the fireladder kicking in a window more than a dozen times. "Robin!" Tracey screamed. "Don't do what I think you're thinking of doing!" It then showed me jumping through the window.

"We believe that Robin took took a big chance doing that," the news anchor said, "since only professionals are trained to do such things. But, nevertheless..."

The video then showed me sticking Luke, the fireman's head out the window, and then Phoebe the little girl, and me sticking our heads through the window, too.

"Are you an angel?" the little girl asked.

"No, honey," I replied. "Just a girl who happened to be around."

"I think you're an angel," the little girl repeated, and I smiled at her.

"If you insist," I said.

"In a coordinated effort," the news anchor said, "Robin then handed little Phoebe Clarke to the fireman outside, and she was eventually brought down to safety. But, instead of waiting for the firefighters to come back to rescue them, Robin did the incredible."

Courtesy of Tracey's telephoto lens, we saw me take off Luke's fireman's jacket and pants, and, along with them, all of his heavy equipment. The guys laughed and giggled at the almost naked fireman wearing only an undershirt, shorts, socks and his fireman's hat.

I then sat him on the window ledge, tied his arm to the window frame, sat in his lap like he was a big, bony chair, and then strapped the both of us together.

"Oooh!" the girls around me said.

"Oh, shut up!" I replied.

The video cut to a shot of Fire Chief Smith. "The reason Robin took of Officer Hoskins' jacket and pants," he explained, "was so to quickly divest him of all of his firefighting equipment. Most firefighters carry close to fifty pounds of equipment with them, such as a fire axe, breathing equipment, lights, radio and other things, and these are all attached to a fireman's jacket and pants. And taking them off was the quickest way for Robin to lighten her load by at least fifty pounds. And for a girl as tiny as her, she really needed to do that. Robin is a pretty sharp girl. She did good. Ummm... we do apologize, though, for Officer Hoskins' choice of underwear..."

The people from the network zoomed in on a static shot of Luke's boxers, which showed Snoopy prints all over them. We all laughed. I didn't even notice that at the time.

"That was not a moment too soon," the TV anchor said, "because, a minute after Robin started moving down the ladder..."

The video cut to me and Luke about a dozen feet down the ladder, and then an explosion, with smoke, fire and debris shot out of the window we just came from.

"Needless to say," the news anchor said, "the last two people rescued in that fire were little Phoebe and Officer Lucas Hoskins. For the record, there were no fatalities in the Jackson Building fire."

Everyone in our living room cheered and clapped at that piece of information, and the video then showed a final static shot of me and Phoebe lying across from each other in ambulance stretchers, smiling and waving at each other.

"The police and fire department are conducting an investigation while social services are helping out the displaced residents. Initial findings show that the fire may have been caused by old or faulty electrical wiring, and the rapid spread of the fire may have been due to faulty water sprinklers. The builidng is almost fifty years old after all.

"Nothing is definite at the moment, but we do know is that that tragedy was averted due to a good samaritan calling in to a radio show, and for an amazing young woman who, almost singlehandedly, mobilized her town's fire department and police, provided incredible coverage of a fire that real newspeople essentially ignored, and rescued a man and a little girl all by herself.

"We'll be keeping an eye on this amazing girl, and let you know whatever amazing things she will be doing in the future, and I for one do believe that they will be amazing."

He then wrapped up that segment and continued on with his program, and the gang all cheered and clapped while Nikki peppered my face with kisses, and Mike gave Tracey a kiss on the cheek.

"Oooh!" we all reacted to that.
 

***** (At the "Center," several hundred miles away) *****

Ray Lomax, Dani Marks, Sheri Kirsch, Rita McFadden and Heather Davis were all in the Center's break room, relaxing and unwinding after a day of unremitting derring-do.

Ray switched on the TV, and the girls cheered, but instead of tuning in to something fun, Ray switched the TV to CNN, and the girls booed.

"Quiet, girls," he said. "I just want to check if there's anything happening that we need to know about." He dodged some throwpillows as well as a cupcake (the cupcake was courtesy of Heather - she had saved it from their dinner earlier. She was regretting throwing it now. "My yummy cupcake," she muttered sadly).

Instead of the news, they had tuned in to a program that was just starting, called "Anderson 360," and Sheri got comfortable - it was one of her favorite programs - one of the few that she liked on CNN, and prepared to enjoy the show. But, after a few minutes of watching, though, she realized who the program was about.

"Ohmigod," she said, and looked at Dani and Heather. "It's about Dee!" ("Dee" was their nickname for Danny.)

Ray called to a girl who had just entered.

"Vee," he called. "Call Kris."

"Huh?" replied.

"Just do it, Vee! Call Kris! Get her in here. Now!"

"Okay, okay! You don't have to bite a girl's head off... Jeez!"

A minute later, Kris Keys, with Liz in tow, plus a little cat everyone called Miss Bonsai, came in.

"What up, Ray?" Kris said.

Ray took her hand and pulled her close to the TV.

"Look at this, Kris," Ray said.

And everyone watched the ten-minute segment largely in silence.

"Wow," Rita said. "That girl is really something."

"Too bad, though," Heather said. "It could have been better if Dee did it as The Black Widow, she giggled.

"I don't know Heather," Dani said. "I think her Robin disguise is pretty cute. She looks good as a brunette."

"I think she looks better as a redhead," Heather said.

"Keys!" Colonel Harris called. They hadn't seen him come in.

"Yes, Colonel?" Kris replied.

"Can you get me the file on Daniel Fairchild?"

"What? Now?"

"If you can manage to tear yourself away from the television," he said a little sarcastically.

"Why?"

"No reason. Curiosity, mostly. And also, maybe it's time to update her equipment." With that, he turned around and walked back to his office.

Liz stuck her tongue out at the colonel's departing back.

Kris sighed. "Can't that man switch off, even for a moment?" she said.

Ray gave Kris a kiss. "I'll get the latest scoop on Dee, and get it printed up in a few."

"Thanks, Ray," she said and turned back to the TV. Too bad CNN's news anchor had moved on to something else. "That girl really is something," she thought to herself, unconsciously echoing Rita from a few minutes ago. She was certain Dee's and their paths would cross again, and thought of how the "Black Widow" would look as a brunette.

She thought of passing by the quartermaster's office, and see if they can put together an equipment update for Danny, and maybe even a more sexy Black Widow outfit.

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Robin, The Nighthawk in "She’s All In"   by Roberta J. Cabot This is another Robin Tibbles story, which is Danny Fairchild’s radio announcer alter ego. Like the other Robin Tibbles stories, this does not materially contribute to the main story, Danny, but is more like “a day in the life” type of story of the main character, Danny, though, in this particular one, it's Danny in his Robin persona. This is one of “Danny's Other Stories" (see https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book-page/72894/dannys-other-...). This story stands on its own, but it would be good to read Danny, even though it is unfinished so that you can get a background of Danny/Robin, the story, and a background of Danny’s friends (see http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14774/danny).

Tracey and I were sent by Mrs. P to attend the First National Communicators Conference. It was for three days and was being hosted at Hilton East Brunswick Hotel in New Jersey. Everyone was hoping for New York but it was the first conference, and sponsors and sponsorships were very thin. Hence here we are in New Jersey. The conference was all about “communicators” – reporters, newscasters, news writers, and editorialists, and the theme of the first conference was: “The Responsibility of the 21st Century Communicators In Today’s Interconnected World.” The organizers sent an invitation to the station, for Robin Tibbles to attend the conference, see the toys on exhibit, listen to the speeches, attend lectures, and most importantly, give a speech on the first day of the conference. It wasn’t as impactful as the keynote speech at the end of the conference, but the first speech of the conference was an awfully important one, as well. Mrs. P. practically ordered me to attend.

Before I could react, she said that Tracey would be accompanying me and that she would be taking care of most of the things that needed to be taken care of, but it was up to me to make the speech, and to schmooze, especially schmooze network and company bigwigs, and all of the famous broadcasters I think were worthy of establishing some kind of business relationship.

So, on the first day, I was given a card, and filled out and registered to attend speeches and seminars I thought were interesting, and I picked speeches from Erin Burnett, Savannah Guthrie, Jane Pauley, and Norah O’Donnell. I also included addresses by Jon Stewart, Stephen Colbert, and Anderson Cooper. Tracey looked at my list and raised an eyebrow.

“What!” I said.

Tracey copied my card and she gave her and my card to the lady with us, so she could reserve seats. In our list, we made sure to leave time to go through the gadgets on display on the main floor, which was like catnip for Tracey. I was fine to make time for it.

I didn’t really give it much thought, and just picked out the lectures from the top of my head – our assigned hostess needed our cards right away as we were running late: we arrived just a couple or so before the start of the event: the flight was a little delayed and the airport limo wasn’t available. We had therefore arrived via a cab, in a rush, tired and sweaty. I was also missing a bag, but the airport people promised to find it and that they would get it to us at the convention.

I wouldn’t have worried much because it was only a small bag that contained only a few things that I could do without for this trip, except that it had my toiletries, PLUS Dr. Roberts’ special formula in a little spray bottle. I would definitely need that. The event was only three days so I thought nothing much could happen.

Our assigned hostess reminded us that we needed to attend the Friday Fellowship, and she asked us if we planned to do something.

“Plan to do something?” I asked.

“It’s a kind of party. Everyone is asked if they want to do something. Jon Stewart is expected to do a monologue. Anderson Cooper volunteered to MC, and some others had promised to sing some songs. So… can we expect KRPQ’s representatives to ‘do something’ for Friday?”

Tracey and I looked at each other. “I guess we can sing something?”

“Great!” And the girl scribbled on her clipboard. “What can I do to help?”

“Can you, maybe, find us a guitar?”

“Sure thing. I’ll send it to your room. Oh! Also, since it’s just a few weeks away from Halloween, Friday Fellowship is a costume party.”

“But… we didn’t come prepared.”

“Well, let me know how I can help. There are a couple of stores nearby. Maybe I can bring you to them so you can pick a costume you might like.”

I had a privileged spot in front, allowing me to record Robin, for the purpose of posting it on the website. We’ve been given permission, of course.

For this occasion, I had a setup that was similar to the one we used for the coverage of that fire we made back then, except I was plugged into the sound feed of the room instead of using a mic. I could have just used the event’s video coverage, but apparently, we had to pay for that. So that meant we had to take care of our own video.

There were two podiums – one for the host and moderator - Anderson Cooper, and another for the speaker. I requested our hostess to set a half apple at the foot of the speaker’s podium, but the half apple might be a little low, so I asked for a full apple.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Anderson started, “It is the first time for our first speaker to be heard speaking in a public event like this. And some may argue that other broadcasters might be more appropriate to speak at our conference. But I do not agree with that.

“Some may argue that I have a proprietary interest in our speaker since it was my program that brought attention to her coverage of that fire in her small hometown in Middle America. Some will argue that it wasn’t a real news piece – that it was more a kind of stunt to increase her audience. But learning about the circumstances, and having met her since, I firmly believe that she was just doing her best, and be a credit to her little radio station, and help the people of her little town. She did her best to bring word of vital importance to her community in the best traditions of American radio and TV journalism. And having discharged that role, she risked her life to save people. Let us welcome the first speaker of the First National Communicators Conference, broadcaster Robin Tibbles, of radio station KRPQ.”

I had worn a sexy-looking office-friendly LBD – something Danielle picked for this occasion. She said my speech would probably be featured somewhere, so I should look my best. Mrs. P also said that Tracey needed to record my speech so that we wouldn’t need to get it from other sources. She also had gotten permission, so Tracey wouldn’t have problems.

I was also working without a bra, as a lot of my underwear was in the missing bag, but at least the dress had some substance and foundation to it - it had underwire support so the dress held its shape, but it didn’t help to hide my… bouncing. But the dress still helped a lot. I also went bare-legged as all my stockings were in the missing bag itself. I had to wear my one spare black gaff since my fancy underwear was also in the bag, but I had about three left. I washed the pair I wore, and left it to dry hanging in my bathroom’s curtain rod - since I would have to rotate the three, just in case I didn’t get my bag back on time.

I stepped up on the apple box and this allowed me to appear to be like five-eight or so. The podium was shaped in such a way that my legs couldn’t be seen from the knees up, so no embarrassing pictures.

Everyone clapped as I stood behind the stage, and had to wait for everyone to settle down. As usual, I worried that they were paying attention to my looks instead of anything else.

Since I didn’t have Dr. Roberts’ formula, I didn’t have the usual protection I relied on. But I was at least a good fifteen or twenty feet from the audience, so that might help. So, instead of the formula, I scrubbed myself really well, and put a lot of Tracey’s perfume (I was thinking of using the ones in the bathroom, but Tracey had a couple of different perfume sets, and she gave me one).

“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen,” I said. “Thank you, colleagues, fellow broadcasters and communicators…” I suppressed a giggle.

I paused before I started reading my speech from the index cards I had prepared... “I apologize. I find it funny and strange to say such a thing to a room full of what I consider heroes and mentors. My credentials are very thin. I have been on the job at my station for less than a year, yet I have the gall to say ‘colleagues, fellow broadcasters and communicators’ …” Everyone laughed good-naturedly.

“As communicators, it’s our role to inform, educate and entertain. My program on KRPQ does the entertainment part of the equation and we do our best. We have been doing more than adequately, and we do our best to keep our audience’s interest in the program. We were expecting this to be the case one particular Saturday, but then we got word that there was an ongoing fire in town. From what we knew at the time, the authorities were not aware of the situation.

“We took it upon ourselves to inform the authorities and the public about the situation. And we decided to cover the fire until mainstream media was up to speed.”

I sighed. “I suppose, when I took it upon myself to get involved with the rescue was not, let us say, appropriate. It’s one thing for trained rescue professionals to risk their lives doing their jobs, it’s another for a civilian to risk his. There really is no excuse for it. After the event, I have since talked about that on the air, and it was a topic of lively debate on the show. My personal view is that I shouldn’t have done it. I am taking full responsibility for that.”

Lots of people in the audience booed that. I waved them away.

“Thank you for your support, everyone, but I disagree… Yes, it reflects badly on me, but as people who also ‘educate,’ it is part of our role to let people know. I have owned up to my bad decision, and, though what happened turned out fine, that will not be the case all the time, so we have to leave it to the professionals.

“In the interim, I have joined a volunteer EMT and rescue program, and I got my certification a few weeks ago. If something like what happened happened again, I’d be fully qualified to join the first responders. My point, I guess, is that we shouldn’t take matters into our own hands.”

Someone raised a hand. “Yes, ma’am?”

“I understand what you are saying, Ms. Tibbles,” the lady who raised her hand said (I think it was Abby Philip, though I wasn’t sure, except that she was just as gorgeous), “but I guess I would point out that without your efforts, that fireman and that little girl might have died. How do you respond to that?”

I paused. “Well, no one can be sure of that…”

“Many are, Ms. Tibbles, including me…”

“… well, regardless – from a safety point of view, I shouldn’t have taken the risk. If things happened differently, Fireman Hoskins and little Phoebe might have perished.” I raised a hand. “Yes, like I said, everything turned out well, but it might not have…”

“You’re right, of course, Robin, but I’m sure the family and friends of fireman Hoskins and little Phoebe are thankful that you did.” There was applause from the people in the room.

- - - - -

I gave everyone a heartfelt thank you, and I continued with my speech, which was all about recognizing the responsibility that we in the industry have, and that we shouldn’t take unwarranted responsibility for things we do not have the authority or ability, or training for, that our role as communicators comes with responsibilities attached to it. Just like a movie, TV, or book critic, we, who hold sway to what people read, watch, or listen to, need to accept that, as we pontificate about how a writer wrote his story, or how a movie or TV show portrays a topic, we have to have more than just a lot on the ball, and not just opinions. I also mentioned “gotcha” comments – that our comments should be more than just pointing out mistakes.

Someone who looked like Abby Huntsman raised a hand. “Ms Tibbles,” she said, “wouldn’t that make things a little bit Pollyanna-like?”

“Well, there are two things that may be relevant here: Just like my mom or dad, I’m sure your folks have also said something similar to ‘if you have nothing nice to say,’ et cetera. So, if it were just that, then that would surely be Pollyana-ish… But if that’s not all that one wants to say, then I would suppose that it would be relevant to ‘communicate’ that.”

“What if it’s not negative? Say it’s not a ‘gotcha’ comment, but just a, say, a positive message of no moment as well…”

I shrugged. “I would suppose something like that would be… as they call it on TV, a ‘feel good’ piece. And under the heading of ‘entertainment.’ For me, that is. I’m sure some would not agree. But that’s my opinion.

“In any case, as ‘communicators,’ we must apply our own sets of values to what we do.”

I went on with my theme, elaborating on the ideas of informing, of responsibility and relevancy, and for doing good instead of not. I did entertain questions as I went on. Seems no one wanted to wait for the Q&A at the end of my talk, and it lengthened my talk to something longer than the hour and a half allotted to me, but my MC let my talk meander. But, at least, I got an excellent reaction to my speech. At the conference party, our hostess told Tracey and I that my speech seemed to be the most popular one, even though I wasn’t able to satisfactorily answer the main question they seemed to have: what did I really think of wrongly taking things into my own hands, and kept relating it to rescuing the people I rescued.

I thought that they were taking me to task, but it was something they really wanted to know.

Danny… I mean Robin… finished her speech, and, judging by the response, I think that it went really well. But then Danny always had that magic touch. Robin and I attached a small GoPro on our tops in place of a brooch. They were the new versions that had their own transmitters that I had slaved to my laptop.

We had to explain that we were covering the event for KRPQ so that no one made a big deal of it. I had adjusted the audio pickups so they would be sure to get the audio around us, but not to include us. Robin and I made sure that everyone knew we were recording so they’d be okay with it.

As we walked around the display floor, we had a large following, obviously trailing us. Well, Robin, actually.

Various people: executives and VIPs, would hand Robin and me their business cards, and all of them ask for appointments with Robin, me, or Mom. We told them we’ll reach out later.

But the crowds didn’t really thin out. What was great, though, was that, as we walked the floor, the exhibitors gave us lots of free merch and swag. So we were going home with loads of t-shirts, pens, new wireless mics, noise-canceling headsets, a prototype portable teleprompter, one-year complimentary postpaid accounts, and lots of other cool stuff.

I called Mom and sweet-talked her to ship all our stuff back home, and Robin got the hotel folks to keep our stuff until the last day, and, as usual, Robin got her way.

Most of the convention was like that, but I found myself with a lot of time flying solo. I never noticed that Robin liked to shower a lot – just before breakfast, just before the lunch break, in the middle of the afternoon, and just before the dinner hour. It’s like Robin’s paranoid about dirt and sweat…

Anyway, everything was going great, and we were making progress with the networking. But then something happened Friday afternoon.

I have wondered why the “non-serious” part of the convention was in the afternoon, and then we were told that everyone had to be in costume.

When we were brought to the store the previous day, the pickings were pretty slim. Tracey lucked out and was able to find a great Princess costume, and she looked fabulous in it (I did have to sweet-talk the concierge at the hotel to do a quick dry-clean, though).

For myself, there weren’t any nice costumes in my size except a not-so-realistic Wonder Woman costume. It wasn’t realistic since it was a “slutty” Wonder Woman costume. But I had no choice – it was the only one that fit. The only nice thing about it was that it was complete, with all the parts, like the gold wrist things, the gold lasso, the gold tiara, and the tall boots.

After lunch, we all were required to be in our costumes, in preparation for Fellowship Night. So after lunch, we went to our rooms and changed into our costumes. I still didn’t have bras as my missing bag has not turned up yet. So I made sure my Wonder Woman costume was zipped up tightly to give me some support. I clipped my GoPro between my boobies, and since the outfit didn’t have pockets, I tucked my smartphone in the only convenient place. I clipped my ID to the top of the bustier and then went back to the convention floor with Tracey in her costume as well.

Arriving there, we went to Colbert’s talk. I tried not to be noticed but it was a futile wish.

During Colbert’s lecture, though, four armed people in policeman costumes and masks barged in.

“Everyone raise your hands and don’t move!” the biggest masked man yelled. “All we want is Caesar Conti!”

I leaned toward the guy beside me. “Who’s Caesar Conti?”

“He’s the president of one of the networks.”

“Oh…”

One of the plainclothes house detectives brought out his gun, but before he could fire, two of the kidnappers hit the detective on the shoulder, spun him around, and knocked him down.

After they grabbed Conti, they rushed out of the room. No doubt they were on their way down to the lobby. One of the organizers called the lobby, and then the police.

“Okay, folks,” he said. “The building security and the police have been alerted. All the stairway doors and elevators are being locked down. Everyone, however, is required to stay here until Security has given us the all-clear.”

I thought about it. Maybe the kidnappers weren’t going to the ground floor. But if they weren’t…

I heard one of the elevators open, and I sprinted outside.

I saw several people in suits step out of the elevator and I dived through the closing elevator doors.

“Hey!” one of the security people exclaimed.

“Send people to the roof!” I said and pressed the button for the roof.

I nervously watched the numbers go up and when the elevator doors opened, I leaned back against the elevator wall and kept my finger on the “open” button.

No one jumped out so I peeked outside. No one was around. Thinking I could use some support, I pressed the convention floor and closed the elevator.

What I saw was a narrow hall with a short stairway on the left that went up to a door that probably led to the rooftop, three dumpsters beyond that, and an exhaust fan at the end. I looked to the right and there was a fire escape door. I checked it out and it wasn’t locked. I might actually be right.

Given how many floors the hotel had, I knew I still had a minute. I looked around and found a two-by-two. I picked it up and waited.

I heard the clatter of feet in the fire escape and stood beside the door.

When the door opened and one of the masked men peeked out, I clobbered him on the head. The guy sprawled on the floor unconscious. Another guy looked out and he pointed his gun at me. I hit him in his hand and knocked his gun out of his hand. I hit him on the head as well.

The two knocked-out kidnappers were blocking the door so I pulled them through by their collars. I then reached out and slammed the door closed. I jammed my two-by-two into the emergency door and the jamb.

I then used my lasso and tied the two unconscious men with their hands and ankles back to back. I picked up the guns the two dropped. I ran up the stairs to the roof, and their helicopter was coming in to land. I ran out to the helicopter pad and started firing at the chopper.

I didn’t know much about guns much less fire straight, but I did manage to scare them off. The chopper flew away. At least the assholes won’t have a getaway vehicle, but they still had their hostage…

I threw away the now-empty guns and jogged back to the door. One of the remaining two kidnappers, what I think was the leader, was just emerging from the door and then he saw me.

For some reason, I decided to run at him. He saw me running towards him and he fired. He cocked his rifle, and as I zigged and the guy shifted his target, and I zagged just as he fired again. I was running full-tilt, and by the time he had cocked his rifle again, I was upon him. I kicked and jumped up, and, with my feet leading, I hit him full in the face, knocking him backward. I picked myself up and picked up the guy’s rifle.

The gun this guy had didn’t seem to be appropriate for kidnappers, but it was enough for me.

I peeked around the door and saw the last remaining guy holding onto the TV executive.

I cleared my throat and used my most authoritative voice. “If you know what’s good for you, you better let your hostage go.”

“No!” he said in a trembling voice.

That sounded weird. I peeked again. And I saw him in the corner, trembling. I giggled a little bit at that. I cleared my throat again and stepped out.

The guy fired wildly and I had to duck back. He kept firing until I heard his gun go dry.

I stepped out again, this time taking one of those Wonder Woman poses.

The guy pointed his gun at me, and, even though it was already empty, he kept firing.

“Throw that gun away.”

Trembling he threw his useless gun away.

“Now you let your hostage go.”

He pushed away Mr. Conti.

“Mr. Conti,” I said, “sir – come towards me. Slowly.”

Mr. Conti walked towards me.

“Now, go to the elevator. Press the button and go to the convention floor.”

Mr. Conti pressed the button. “Someone’s coming up,” he said.

The elevator opened and building security and police came out.

They looked at me, and then at the knocked-out kidnappers and the one remaining kidnapper trembling at the far end of the room.

The cops holstered their sidearms.

“Okay, Wonder Woman. Thanks. We’ll take it from here.” He solemnly winked. I tried not to giggle. “Why don’t you escort Mr. Conti back down?”

I gave him a salute. “All right officer.”

I walked into the elevator with Mr. Conti. I pressed the button and, as soon as the elevator doors closed, Mr. Conti and I laughed our heads off.

As soon as Robin and Mr. Conti Stepped out of the elevator, everyone exploded in cheers and applause. Everyone followed the events as they were unfolding: the organizers requested to see Robin's video live, and we followed what was happening as they were happening.

And after everyone had hugged and shaken Robin’s hand at least a dozen times, needless to say, the rest of the convention was canceled. Friday Fellowship was moved earlier, but none of the speakers who got bumped were complaining.

One of the things that the organizers requested was that I share the GoPro video. I got Mom to help with the negotiations but we were able to share Robin’s GoPro after Morgan and my crew had gone through the video and enhanced the audio and video to something close to 4K, and also put KRPQ’s logo in the lower-right corner. The organizers, however, gave us a copy of the hotel’s security video, but it was raw and unenhanced.

In less than thirty minutes, I got Morgan and the guys to make a new version, with the hotel security video and our video time-synchronized and side-by-side. I then shared it with the convention people, and with Robin’s permission, the organizers screened the video during Fellowship.

We watched the video in real-time. The entire video was a total of about twenty minutes, from the moment the kidnappers showed up until Robin and Mr. Conti stepped into the elevator.

The four kidnappers were going to be interrogated by the FBI but we heard from the police, that the last of the kidnappers whom Robin got shaking and crying had been spilling the beans since the police put him under custody, and it rumor is that the mastermind of the kidnapping was one of Mr. Conti’s disgruntled former employees who planned to ransom him back to his company.

The GoPro video had audio, so we heard the complete blow-by-blow, and everyone cheered and clapped as Robin did her Wonder Woman thing. And when the elevator closed on Robin and Mr. Conti, everyone clapped and applauded, just like people watching the end of a great movie.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Anderson said – “Ms. Robin Tibbles: Wonder Woman!”

to be continued...

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Teacup Roses, Guitars, a Bus Pass and a Mistaken Identity (A Danny Fairchild Story) by Bobbie Cabot This little interlude is set somewhere in the middle of the events of Chapter 8 of the still unfinished story, “Danny.” This does not materially contribute to that story, but is more like “a day in the life” type of story of the main character, Danny. This story can stand on its own somewhat, but it would be good to read Danny, unfinished though it is, to get a background on the story and characters (see http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14774/danny).

I slammed my locker closed after I put in my little backpack with my books and other stuff. I also put the little cardboard box covered in tissue and the elasticized ribbon that I bought at the dime store yesterday on the topmost shelf of the locker. I wasn’t angry or anything. In fact, it was turning out to be sort of a good day. It was just that I needed to slam my locker door so the lock will latch properly. Only my twin sister Danielle could open and close my locker without needing to jerk it open or slam it closed, but she was away today — some sort of field trip with her class, I think.

My locker and hers were side-by-side, and they were at the end of a long hallway, with lockers lining both walls. They were on the dead-end side of the hallway where there was a door at the end, but kids never used it and would walk all the way back down the hall to the rest of the school. I think it was a door to a little vestibule that had a little firedoor leading out of the building. But I wasn’t sure.

Anyway, I jogged back down the hall and rushed out to my car, which I had thoughtfully parked under the big elm in the open parking lot in front of the school this morning. I had put my little imitation electric Strat in the trunk, and to prevent heat damage and stop the strings from warping or breaking, I parked the car in the shade — didn’t have a choice, really, since I had nowhere else to put my stuff other than in my locker, and it didn’t have enough room for my guitar. Besides, I needed the locker space for that gift Mickey was going to get for me later. It was something I thought I’d give my sister’s best friend, Nikki, as a thank-you for being nice to me a couple of weeks ago at the Photography Club.

I had planned on giving her a teacup bouquet of little pink tea roses (it was like an arrangement of the little flowers in a pot the shape of a china cup), plus four pairs of Sanyo Eneloop batteries for her camera’s flash, and a couple NB2LH batteries for her Canon. Granted the gifts were nerdy as hell, but with the flowers, I think I’ll do okay. And if it was a bit of an overkill for a simple thank-you gift, well… I’ve been head over heels with Nikki since grade school, and this thing at the photography club gave me an excuse to make the gesture I’ve been wanting to do for a while, now.

Mickey’s supposed to get the bouquet and stuff for me — given he had the afternoon off today, same as his entire civics class — he offered to get it from the flower shop for me, and he was supposed to give it to me after class, or just drop it off in my locker.

Anyway, back to the story…

Despite my doctor’s letter to exempt me from PhysEd, the only way that the school would allow this was if I take some other school credits by participating in some sort of internship. Doctor Roberts considered my PE exemption necessary given my… ambiguous gender characteristics — I apparently had a lot of secondary female sex characteristics (the most notable of which are my larger-than-average b-cup, or smaller-than-average c-cup, breasts) and I would be the target of a lot of the kids, especially if they saw me in gym. However way I looked at them, they seemed enormous to me. Per my sister’s recommendation, I had taken to wearing sports bras to support them as well as mash them down a bit, up to the point where my tanktop and loose shirts would adequately camouflage them. And it’s been working well enough, so far.

I did take an extra-curricular internship, as required: I was supposed to be a production assistant-slash-intern at KRPQ Radio, but it had grown out of proportion after that almost-disaster with Lou Jefferson, one of the on-air announcers. Now, I am a semi-regular employee at the station, and one of their DJs. But that’s a long story all by itself, and maybe I’ll tell it later.

Thing is, a few weeks ago, some brown-nosing administrative assistant in the principal’s office found an antiquated school board ruling that said that any make-up credits to cover any student’s curricular deficiencies must be done through a school-administered program or class, and is to be done in-campus, just like a regular class.

My counselor gave me the unexpected bad news a couple of weeks ago, and she advised me to sign up for one of the clubs as a substitute. I had the radio thing now, but I couldn’t give it up anymore - it looked like I’ll have to take another class on top of that.

I looked through the list she gave and checked the ones that had available spots that I might, even remotely, like. There were three possibles — Glee Club, Photography and the school paper.

I checked out the school paper first, with ideas of getting those breaking news stories that got into the headlines. But after checking out their pathetic little operation and the teacher that managed the club, I quickly nixed that idea.

So I checked out the Photography Club next. The club had once-a-week meetings in the AV Room — the room with the projector just off the faculty room. The club required their members to bring their own cameras, so since I didn’t own one, I brought along a mint-condition, though pre-historic, cast-off Canon D30 which my uncle Nathan, who lived all the way in Canada, shipped to me (apparently, my mom emailed our relatives, including those that lived in Canada, Ireland and Italy, all about it). I was laughed out of the room because of my pathetic camera. Nikki, my twin sister’s friend, was apparently a member, too, and was at least sympathetic and didn’t join in on the laughing, and actually walked out with me, apologizing in behalf of the jerks. I didn’t say much, as I was dumbstruck that she would do this for me (As I mentioned, I had a serious crush on Nikki, but that is also another long story best told some other time.)

Later on, I learned from Nikki that the school’s camera club wasn’t anything but a venue for rich kids with camera fixations to show off their latest electronic acquisitions. Nikki would quit if there were any other camera club around that she could join. So - screw the camera club, right?

My last option was the Glee Club. Having seen the new TV show (Don’t tell the guys, but it has rapidly become my favorite show. Call it a guilty pleasure.), I didn’t really have high hopes for the club. Much to my surprise, it wasn’t that bad. True, most of the members were in the lower-bracket of the school’s social hierarchy (it was Glee Club, after all). But that wasn’t such a bad thing — truth be told, even with everything that has happened to me recently, I was still in the same place in the school’s pecking order as before, so I wasn’t much different from these guys. There were more girls than boys than I expected. Geek-girls to be sure, but with lots of potential, if they just cleaned up a bit.

So, I was there, application form in hand, as they stood on stage and went through a really… cruddy version of that classic by The Rolling Stones, “Satisfaction.” I thought the way they sang was off, but what did I know. Anyway, I listened to the group rehearse and kept my cringing-at-every-off-note down to a minimum, and waited to be noticed by the director.

As it happened, I had also brought my guitar then — I didn’t know what was involved when joining the glee club, and thought to be prepared. Anyway, after a couple of run-throughs, they quit. Thank god…

I made a mistake of not controlling my face too much because, after the kids finished the last note, the teacher in charge turned to me.

“All right, young man,” the teacher said, “you can stop snickering and tell us what you are doing here, interrupting us in the middle of our rehearsal.”

I blushed crimson. Taking out my application form, I mutely handed it to her.

The teacher snapped the folded paper open and read through it.

“Children,” she said, “apparently, this young man here is signing up for a spot in our little group. Now, we all know that we are in need of one more member for us to qualify to join the regionals, so, ummm,” she looked at my form, “Mr. Daniel Fairchild may be the answer to our prayers.” She looked me over. “Or is he?”

The kids all gave me hostile looks. Seems I got off on the wrong foot, and I felt a little bead of nervous sweat trickle down my back. It didn’t help that I was dressed down in beat-up jeans and my over-large shirt (I had recently taken to wearing loose shirts over my crew-neck to camouflage my still-growing breasts. Tell you about that another time), whereas most of these guys were in expensive, preppy casual wear.

“Mr. Fairchild,” the teacher continued on, “we do not require auditions, per se, as we are required to accept all applicants. But given we have been together for a few months already, and we know each other’s styles and strengths, we’d like to see what you are capable of.”

So… audition time again. I unlimbered my fake strat and climbed up the stage. The rest of the kids took seats except for one redheaded goth-type girl with her own electric guitar, festooned with stickers and labels from goth-rock bands and movies (the only sticker I recognized was from Siouxsie and the Banshees — a band from twenty years ago that I sometimes see featured on MTV). I smiled at her, and she raised one unimpressed eyebrow at me. Hmmm…

I looked at her guitar and traced the amp cable to a little amplifier at the back of the stage. I got one of the spare cables lying around and plugged in.

It was an easy song to play — just three chords: E, A and B7, over and over again. So I experimentally tried the chords, getting the level right. I stepped up to the mike stand and feedback squealed from the amp. The teacher cringed from the noise, and I quickly lowered the gain.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” I said into the mike. The teacher frowned. I wasn’t endearing myself to her any, I could tell.

Now that I got my guitar set up, I raised the gooseneck mike stand real high and bent it down and forward to me. With that setup, I could at least move around and still sing into the mike. I started playing the chords in a fast four-fourths beat.

“I can’t get no… satisfaction,” I crooned into the mike ala-Mick Jagger, and played E, A and B7 in hard and sharp staccato chops. “I can’t get no… satisfaction.” I spiraled the chords and my singing up. “I try, and I try, and I try, and I try…”

Then fast and hard. Dum-dum, dududum, dududududum.

“When I'm drivin' in my car, and that man comes on the radio. He's tellin' me more and more about some useless information! Supposed to fire my imagination! I can't get no! Oh, no no no…” Guitar chords again - Dududum, dududududum. “Hey, hey, hey! That's what I say!”

I stamped a four-fourth beat on the stage in lieu of drums, and started playing the chords again.

“Hey, goth girl!” I cried, and gestured to the girl with the guitar to join in with a nod of my head. She was grinning from ear to ear watching my antics. She sidled up to me and watched my hands to get the timing right.

“I can’t get no satisfaction!” we both played and sang in synch — great, a Mick Jagger and Siouxsie duet. “I can’t get no satisfaction! I try, and I try, and I try, and I try! I can't get no!”

We sang the next verse into the microphone, side by side. “When I'm watchin' my TV, and that man comes on to tell me how white my shirts can be, but he can't be a man 'coz he doesn't smoke the same cigarrettes as me! I can't get no! Oh, no no no…” Guitar chords in duet - Dududum, dududududum. “Hey, hey, hey! That's what I say!”

It went on like that until the end. And by that time, I got the rest of the group clappin’ and stompin’ the bejeesus out of the floor, especially during the drum parts.

“I can't get no, I can't get no!” I chopped the song there after a final E chord instead of letting it fade out like in the original. Good thing Goth Girl was following my lead, so we were able to end the song crisply and righteously

The rest of the glee club hooted and hollered, climbed up the stage, pounded me on the back and shook my hand. Goth girl gave me a hug, which surprised the heck out of me. Her face makeup, not that thick, actually, nevertheless left a little smudge of makeup on my cheek, but with my sweat, it wiped off real easily.

“Ahem!” the teacher said, clearing her throat. Everyone quieted down.

“Young man, where did you learn to do that?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve been playing the guitar for a while. I guess I just picked it up.”

“Well, however you learned what you did… and the stomping was a great touch.” She stuck her hand out, and I shook her hand. “Welcome to the Glee Club.” And there was a round of cheering.

“My name is Mrs. Sparks, and I run the club,” she said, and started a roll-call of the girls. “That’s Beatriz, Edna, Kalista, Ramona, Valentina, Phylicia, Eileen, and of course, you’ve met Fallon.” Goth girl leaned forward, giggled and gave me a little kiss on the cheek. The teacher raised an eyebrow at that, then gestured over to three guys leaning against the wall. “Those three over there are Gus, Frank and Rocko.”

They waved back. “Hey, dude,” the one called Rocko said. “Great pipes. Welcome.”

I grinned and nodded my thanks. One of the girls, Eileen, was looking at me funny. Still, I gave her a smile.

“So!” Mrs. Sparks said, “any pointers you could share with us about our performance?” She rubbed her hands together like a bank robber contemplating her next heist. I just had to laugh.

We proceeded to hop up their little routine, and made it tighter and more audience-friendly. With Mrs Sparks, and me & Goth-Girl, ummm, I mean Fallon, on our guitars, we were able to make a decent… no, that’s unfair: We were able to make it a great number. The hook to the whole number was the clapping and stomping, which originally was just my off-the-cuff improvisation to compensate for the fact that we didn’t have any band to help. That little number went into their meager repertoire of routines for use in competitions and such. Rocko (what a name, huh?) had the best rock-singer voice among the guys, with a voice like Chad Kroeger, so he ended up singing lead.

I had thoughtfully and deliberately excluded myself from any of the singing, and relegated myself to playing the guitar accompaniment. I mean, I had enough playing and singing with my band, it actually felt good to be second fiddle for once, a fact that got me brownie points with the members since I wasn’t some prima dona that wanted to hog the limelight.

I exchanged backslaps and handshakes with the guys, and the girls hugged me and bussed me on the cheek. It was a wonderful first day with the Glee Club, and I looked forward to the next meeting.

Which brings us to today.

I brought my guitar again, just to be safe. And as I hurried through the hallways, on my way to the music room, I noticed Tom Hennessy, the biggest bully in school walking in my direction. He had something in his hand, what looked like a bat or stick.

I doubled my pace. Chances are, the big tool’s got something in his head again, some excuse to pound on me. I guess whatever Betsy did to scare him off last Halloween has worn off, or whatever she had on him’s useless already.

“Hey!” Hennessy called. “Hey, faggot!” He had broadcasted to everyone that I must be some kind of homosexual since Halloween — it was his revenge, I guess given the costume I wore and the trick I played on him that day.

I slipped my guitar case’s strap on my back, which allowed me to start running. It was difficult to manage, with everyone between classes and walking around in the hallways. I had to dodge around people constantly.

“Dude!” the basketball team’s power forward yelled as I careened around him. I waved in apology and continued on my way.

Hennessy continued getting close, unstoppable and unrelenting. Instead of dodging around people, he just barreled through them. “Move it!” he yelled as he pushed some little guy away. The dude hit the floor hard, but Hennessy just skipped over him. I felt for the guy, as I often found myself in that same position. But I couldn’t stop and help.

I waved at Mel, Drew and Joanna, some friends of my sister, as they chatted with my best friend Morgan, but I didn’t stop to talk.

As I rounded a bend, I saw the door to the music room even as Hennessy turned the corner as well. I cannoned into the room, straight into Fallon’s arms.

Hennessy came in a few seconds after me but came up short when he was blocked by Mrs. Sparks.

“Young man, what is the meaning of this?”

“Move aside, lady,” Hennessy huffed.

“You have no reason to be here. I suggest you leave.”

He gestured at me, about to speak, but Mrs. Sparks interrupted him. “If you have business with Mr. Fairchild, I suggest you wait outside until we’re done.”

“But…”

“Out! Now!”

Hennessy left.

Mrs. Sparks closed he doors and turned to us. She clapped her hands. “All right, my young thespians. Settle down, and let’s get started.”

I gave Fallon a little hug of thanks and extricated myself from her arms.

One of the girls, Eileen, I think her name was, suggested a song, from the animated version of Tarzan. She even came with the music printed up.

“It’s not exactly a fast song, m’dear,” Mrs. Sparks said.

“No, it’s not, ma’am. But sung just right, it’ll be a great song. A showstopper, even.”

“Indeed?” Mrs. Sparks said, smiling. “Do tell, young songstress. Perhaps you would care to demonstrate?”

Eileen coughed. “Well… I’m not good enough. But I think Danny can demonstrate.”

Everyone looked to me. This was exactly what I wanted to avoid. Now everyone will resent me. I looked around. But instead of hostile looks, all I saw were expectant faces.

Eileen came to me, bringing a couple of copies of the sheet music.

“I know your secret, Danny,” she whispered.

I closed my eyes. So this is it. I’ve been found out. I wondered which secret did she know. “I know about Unlimited Bandwidth,” she whispered. “And the others know, too. I told them.”

“What…”

“But we don’t care about that, Danny.”

I looked at her with big, unbelieving eyes. “I was the only one who was able to put two and two together,” she continued. After your singing last week, the voice and the guitar-playing — I could tell it was you in that band, too.”

She looked backwards and saw Mrs. Sparks coming over. “Let’s talk about it some more, later.”

She turned to Mrs. Sparks. “I was trying to point out which song I was suggesting,” she said to Mrs. Sparks. “I think Danny’s got it now.”

I followed her lead. “Yup, I think I know the song.”

“Well, good,” Mrs. Sparks said. “So - any ideas, Danny lad?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“Go for it.”

I pointed to the chubby guy. “Gus, I think you’re gonna be our Phil Collins. And you, Eileen, and, ummm, Kalista,” I pointed to the thin girl with the straight blonde hair, “will be Gus’s second voices.”

I gestured for Fallon to come over and bring her guitar. “Can you read music, Red?” I said, and handed her the sheet music.

“Sure, ‘Red’” she said cockily, and giggled. “Doesn’t everyone?” I raised an amused eyebrow at that.

I had everyone else group together around me.

“Okay, I think we’re all set. And I think this is how we’re gonna do this…”

After an hour or more of practicing and tuning the number, Mrs. Sparks declared the song a success.

“Wonderful work, children,” Mrs. Sparks said. “A couple more run-throughs and I think we will be done for the day.” Her celphone took that moment to ring. Mrs. Sparks looked at the caller ID. “Excuse me, I think I’m wanted in the principal’s office. Danny have them run through another one.” She went out to the hallway.

When she was out of the room. Everyone crowded around me.

“So, Danny, Unlimited Bandwidth, huh?” Gus said.

“How’d you end up becoming their lead singer?” Kalista said.

I shrugged nervously. “It’s a long story.” I told them a little bit about how it all began, but kept the whole business about Batch Fourteen out of it, or of my changing physical condition. I also didn’t mention anything about my internship and my eventual hiring as a DJ - the Nighthawk.

What I did talk about - very little, though - was how everyone seemed to prefer me looking and singing like a girl, and how the band was gaining a kind of popularity I couldn’t understand.

“You’re telling me,” Rocko said. “I always thought that girl was real hot.”

“Oooooh!” everyone said. “Better watch out for Rocko, Danny!” Gus said, snickering.

Rocko laughed. “I was joking, guys!” I grinned in relief as well as a substantial bit of embarrassment.

Frank looked at the door. “Best to talk about this later, guys. Sparks might come back anytime.”

Eileen nodded. “Well, do you have anything after Glee Club?”

“No. But…” I remembered having to meet Mickey, and giving Nikki my gift. “I do have a little errand.”

“Okay,” Eileen said. “How about let’s meet at Archie’s at maybe five or six, to talk some more?” Kalista said, referring to the teenager-friendly restaurant at the mall.

“Might still be too full at that time,” he said.

“Let’s make it eight then?” She looked around. “Everyone okay with that?” It was a little late but apparently it was okay with the others.

Mrs. Sparks came back in. “So, young Master Fairchild,” she said. “How did everyone do?”

“Pretty good, Mrs. Sparks,” I said. “One more for our repertoire.”

“Excellent, excellent,” she said. “Now, time to go home.” She clapped her hands. “One of your assignments for next week, children, is to think up new routines and songs, all right? We are still short a couple of routines. Now, go! Chop chop!”

I got my guitar and other stuff together, and went with the rest to the door. I didn’t understand why these kids are taking my being part of the band so well. As if my dressing up as a girl, or being mistaken as a girl was no big deal. I didn’t have much time so I just went with it, and decided to worry about it later.

Since I was hurrying, I was leading everyone. But as soon as I was halfway through the door, I saw Hennessy lounging around outside. I ducked back in, bumping into the others. I didn’t think he saw me.

“Watch it, Danny,” Gus said, but then he saw my expression. “What’s wrong?”

Before I could respond, one of the girls, Phylicia was her name, I believe, took a peek out the hallway. “It’s that guy again — that big guy, Hennessy? He’s outside.”

“Oh,” Gus said in understanding.

Everyone looked through the door. I had to smile at their overprotectiveness.

“What do you want to do, Danny?” Fallon said. “That SOB is out there waiting. You can’t escape him.”

I shrugged.

“What’ll we do?” Eileen said.

I was pleased at that word — “we.”

“What about we surround Danny, escort him down the hall?” Valentina said.

“That might work,” Beatriz said. “But Hennessy might have some friends with him.”

“Then, it is best that you don’t go through, then.”

We looked behind us. “Mrs. Sparks?...”

“It’s all right, Daniel.” She pointed at one of the girls. “Edna, close and lock that door. Fallon?”

Goth-girl nodded.

“Open that window.” The teacher turned to me.

“Daniel, I suggest you go through the window. I cannot pretend to know what is going on, but I want to help. Give me your guitar. You can pick it up in the teacher’s lounge later. Fallon, help Danny.”

“But…”

“I’ll take care of your guitar as well. Fallon.”

I looked at goth-girl and nodded. She smiled, and gestured to the window. “Let’s go,” she said. She then suited words with action and proceeded to climb through.

I looked back at the guys and shrugged. “Thanks, Mrs. Sparks.” I waved and climbed through, myself.

I dropped down from the windowsill. I looked up to goth-girl.

“Where to, now?” she asked.

“I need to meet up with my friend Mickey, over at the lockers.”

She nodded. “Okay. Where?”

“My locker is at the end of the hall.”

She took my hand and pulled. “Let’s go, then.”

We walked back to the front of the school, and then turned left down to the lockers. When we got to my locker, I unlocked it and then jiggled it in that unique way and jerked it open. Nothing was in there. I wondered where Mickey was, but soon, we heard the flop-flop of Mickey’s sneakers.

“Hey, Mickey,” I said in relief.

“Dude,” he said. “Here you go.” He handed me a plastic bag with the batteries, and a box the size and shape of a small shoebox, upended on its short side. I opened it. Nestled in a bunch of shredded tissue was an arrangement of pink tea roses and several other flowers in a slightly-large teacup, actually a flowerpot. I showed the teacup arrangement to Fallon (I should learn to call her by her name, and not “goth-girl”).

“Beautiful,” she said. “who’s it for?”

“A friend.”

“Ooooh!” she said. “A ‘friend!’” She giggled.

“Oh knock it off!”

“Okay, I’ll be good.”

“So, Danny,” Mickey said, “who’s the goth-girl?”

“My name’s Fallon, you dweeb,” Fallon sneered.

Mickey put on his standard lady-killer look. I rolled my eyes at that.

“So,” he said, “what’s a girl like you…”

“Oh, shut up!” Fallon said.

“What’d I say!”

“Hey, Mickey,” I said, trying to change the subject. “Thanks for getting the stuff for me. How much do I owe you?”

Mickey handed me a couple of receipts. I looked at them and handed over several bills. I didn’t bother asking for change. Just as well, since he just put the money in his pocket, never bothering to check how much I gave him.

Fallon wasn’t too happy that Mickey was there making eyes at her, so she said goodbye. “Archie’s at eight?”

“Yup. Archie’s at eight. See you.”

“And good luck with your ‘friend.’” She giggled.

I smiled embarrassedly, and waved as she went back down the hall.

Mickey waved goodbye, grinned and wagged his eyebrow. “Seeya, dude.” He then went after Fallon, and I laughed.

I turned back to my locker and took down the tissue-covered box and the ribbon I put in there earlier. I put the camera and Eneloop batteries in the small box and snapped the elasticized ribbon around the larger, shoe-box-sized flower box. I experimentally shook the flower box a little, and the shredded tissue kept the flowers from being jostled too much. I got out my backpack. I took out all the books and stuff inside but it was too small for the box the flowers came in. I cursed and jammed my backpack into my locker and slammed the door closed.

I looked around, trying to think of another way to easily carry the stuff. In desperation, I decided to try Danielle’s locker (yup, my name was Daniel — Dan or Danny for short — and my twin sister’s name was Danielle. Long story, tell you some other time).

I set the combination and opened her locker door. Her sachet wafted up, the smell of vanilla and Chanel - something that always reminded me of her. I saw her backpack, a pink and white affair with little flower appliqués all over it. I mean how girlie can you get. But when I laid the box beside the bag, it seemed to be the right size. “Got no choice. Sorry, Danielle,” I said to my missing sister. I put the boxes in the locker and took out the pack. I looked inside. While rummaging through the pack, I took out my cel and called mom.

“Mom?” I said, as I looked through the backpack. “I won’t be home from dinner. Hope that’s okay?” I listened a bit. “The guys from Glee Club invited me to Archie’s at eight.” I nodded at what mom said. “Yes, you heard right — Glee Club.” She said something again. “No, they’re not like the kids from the show, and no, our teacher’s a chubby, sixty-year-old grandmother-type, not some cute guy.” I laughed. “Okay, thanks mom. See you later.”

I shut my phone off and turned back to the contents of her backpack. Seems Danielle stashed a complete change of clothes in it, complete with underwear and shoes. Sorry, Danielle. I’m gonna need your pack. I flipped open my phone and texted her a long message, explaining why I needed to borrow her bag. After a few moments, she texted back her okay.

I was about to take out her stuff when Fallon came running.

“Danny!” she said breathlessly. “Tom Hennessy’s out there looking for you!”

Before I could react, Mickey came running, too. He skidded right in front of my locker, and almost bowled Fallon over.

“Danny!” he said. “Tom Hennessy’s out there scopin’ for ya!”

Fallon pushed him away. “He knows already, shithead!”

I looked down the still-deserted hall and didn’t see anyone.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Sure, I’m sure!” Mickey said.

“Does he have his buds with him?”

“No. Which is strange, actually.”

My mind raced a mile a minute, trying to think up something. I looked at the unused door at the end of the hall. I twisted the knob and it opened into a dusty little four-by-four vestibule. Opposite the door was another door, a metal fire door. I pushed down on the fire door’s lock but it wouldn’t budge. “Damn!”

I stepped back into the hall and looked at my two friends. “Okay,” I said. “Neither of you needs this grief. Go.”

“Danny!” “Dude!”

“Go!” I said. “I’ll figure something out. Fallon, I’ll meet you and the guys at Archie’s at eight, okay?”

“Dan!”

“I’ll be all right, Mickey. But right now, you better boogie on out of here. ‘Kay?”

We clasped each other’s arm in our little gang’s private handshake, and he started running back down the hall.

“Cool it, okay?” I said. “Don’t get him suspicious. Don’t run.”

Mickey stopped short. He nodded and gave me a thumbs-up. He put his hands in his pockets and walked nonchalantly down the hall, whistling.

Fallon and I looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“Go on, goth-girl,” I said, and smiled at her. “See you later.”

Fallon went to me and gave me a little kiss on the cheek. She waved before walking away.

Now that I got everyone safe, I could try and save my butt now. I had no ideas. God, what do I do!

I looked at the backpack in my hand, and got an idea. Not the best, but it’s all I could come up with.

I felt around in the side pocket and felt a plastic case. It was a little make-up kit and a wallet. I guess I’m all set. I took a deep breath and went into the vestibule. I took off my shirt and white sports bra, replacing it with Danielle’s tight, red, form-fitting long-sleeved bouclé sweater and her sexy, strapless demi bra.

I pulled off my socks, sneakers, underwear and jeans, and, while being careful of the dust, I put on Danielle’s dainty panties, dark-brown leggings. (I thoughtfully tucked my dick in between my legs before putting on the panties and leggings), and her really expensive Shearling lace-up booties that Dad bought her. I looked down and saw a small telltale bump. I pulled her panties up a bit more and nothing showed that could give me away anymore. Damn. Wish Danielle had pants or at least a skirt instead of leggings…

I stepped out of the vestibule, my guy clothes bundled up into a ball. I put them at the bottom of Danielle’s locker. I put the two boxes into the pink-and-white backpack, and my wallet, comb, keys and the other junk from my pants in the left-side pocket. I took out Danielle’s wallet from the other pocket. It had her library card, buss pass, and about fifty dollars in ones and fives. I put it back and took out the little make-up kit and started touching up my face the way Danielle taught me. I took the little atomizer and spritzed myself with Danielle’s Chanel perfume. I had just taken our my low guy's ponytail and started combing out my hair as a final touch, fluffing it out the way I saw Danielle do it, when I saw Hennessy’s face in Danielle’s mirror behind my own reflection. “Hey, babe,” Hennessy said to me. I whirled and faced him. He was still carrying the white stick. Baseball bat? Hockey stick? “Tom!” I said. “You scared me.” I went into Danielle mode, and crossed my arms under my breasts, in feigned irritation, trying to cover up the fear. “What do you want?” “Sorry, Danielle,” he said. “I’m lookin’ for your faggot brother. You seen him?” I secretly breathed a little sigh of relief — he didn’t recognize me. I projected Danielle in my mind. “My brother is NOT gay!” I said. “And, besides, after what you tried to do last Halloween, what makes you think I’m gonna tell you even if I knew?” Hennessy shrugged. I harrumphed, closed Danielle’s locker and shouldered the pink-and-white backpack. I walked casually down the hall, or at least tried to. I felt my back prickling, waiting for the other shoe to drop. When I got about thirty or forty feet, Hennessy said, “Wait!” I looked back to him. He looked at me. “Danny?”

I broke into a dead run.

“Danny? Hey, Danny! Wait!” Hennessy pounded after me. I would have assumed I would find it difficult to balance in the high-heeled booties, but surprisingly, I was coping.

The clack-clack of the boots was loud in the hall, so when I escaped into the rest of the school, I skidded to a stop and started walking in a more normal pace. I zigged and zagged a bit, went up the second level, went back down via the middle stairs, keeping to the high-traffic area, and I effectively lost Hennessy. I looked around, looking for a friendly face but I didn’t see anyone I knew. I walked calmly to the front gate, casually looking around.

Several people who knew Danielle saw me and waved. “Hi, Danielle,” most of them called out. I waved back in what I hoped was a friendly way. I didn’t know most of them, and was again reminded of how popular Danielle was. Some of the girls came over to chat. One of the cheerleaders (I couldn’t recall her name) waved. “Hello, Danielle,” she said. “Lookin’ sexy as always.” “You’re not looking bad yourself,” I said. And indeed, the blue-and-yellow school cheerleader uniform really did make her sexy. I tried not to be inappropriate with my lingering look so I quickly tore my stare away. Other cheerleaders crowded around us. “Danielle, when are you gonna join the squad?” a second cheerleader, the one with the biggest bust among them said. “There’s room for one more, you know.” The others murmured their agreement. “Thank you girls, but I don’t think I have what it takes to be one of you.” (Like being a stuck-up snob. But, of course, I didn’t say that out loud.) The girls took it as a compliment, giggled and preened. I saw Fallon walk by. She saw me looking at her but she looked away. She probably thought I really was Danielle, and was used to looks from girls like her. I felt bad about that, and I wanted to follow, but it would look weird if Danielle broke away from these girls, so I stayed.

“I think you’re wrong,” the first girl was saying. “I think we can whip you into shape real quick.”

“And besides, you’re one of the most popular girls in school and totally gorgeous,” said the second girl.

“Well, let me think about it, okay?”

“Okay, but not too long,” the first one said. “Lots of girls are eyeing the spot. But if you let us know before the open tryouts next week, your spot is guaranteed.”

“Thanks so much!” I gushed. “I’ll let you know as soon as I can.” I waved and continued on my way. There was more to life than cheering and being popular. These girls need to get a clue. But then again, what did I know?

As I was walking, a couple of jerks came over and tried to put the moves on me (I guess the outfit was a little too sexy for my own good), so I did a patented Danielle move — while the creep was putting his arm around my shoulders and one of his hands on one of my breasts, I stomped on the foot of the jerk with Danielle’s high-heeled boot. Not strong enough to break anything but strong enough to hurt like hell. At least I think I didn’t break anything.

The guy dropped to his knees and howled in pain, and his friend held him by the shoulders.

“Have a nice day,” I said in Danielle’s voice, and walked on.

I saw Fallon walking towards the front gate, too. “Fallon!” I cried and sashayed over, practicing the walk that Danielle taught me.

She had stopped when she heard me call her name.

“How you been, girl?” I said in false joviality as soon as I got within earshot.

Fallon looked puzzled as I looped my arm through hers. “you know me?” she said in disbelief.

“It’s me,” I whispered into her ear.

She looked at me again, and after a few moments, recognition set in. “Danny!” she whispered back. “It’s you!”

“In the flesh, girlfriend,” I said in more normal tones — Danielle-tones, that is.

“You look great!” she grinned. “Do you have any clue who you look like?”

“I’m supposed to be Danielle, my twin sister.” I gestured at my outfit. “I got these clothes from her locker. Hennessy saw me at the lockers, but didn’t recognize me at first so I got away. But after a bit, he saw through the disguise and I ran for it.”

I leaned over. “Do you think I look okay? I mean, Hennessy saw through my disguise in a second.”

“Are you kidding? You’re an absolute babe! In fact, I wouldn’t mind going somewhere with you and… you know…” She waggled her eyebrows at me and giggled.

I froze. “You’re telling me you’re a…”

Fallon giggled. “Sure. Everyone knows that.”

I started to get nervous and got hyper-aware of my arm wrapped around hers. Fallon felt it and gave my arm a friendly squeeze.

“Don’t worry, Danny. Boys aren’t my thing.”

I felt a little bit of relief, but was still a bit nervous.

I looked around. “Hope we lost Hennessy. I wouldn’t want him to find me.”

“What’s he got against you, anyway?”

“Long story. Tell you later, maybe. Right now, I gotta get out of the school.”

Fallon nodded and grinned again. “Okay, then. So, let’s get you out of here.”

We then walked out of the school, with the entire school body looking at us incredulously. It was probably the first time they saw a school hottie and a goth walk arm-in-arm out of the school grounds laughing and giggling. I told Fallon I was going to my friend Nikki’s place to give her the flowers and stuff, and she offered to accompany me. So we stood at the bus stop. Surprisingly, it was just us. “Do you have a bus pass?” she asked, but after I gave her a look, she nodded. “Oh, right.”

I then snapped my fingers. I rooted around in the backpack’s side pocket and came out with my sister’s wallet. I took out Danielle’s bus pass and showed it to Fallon.

“Wow, you really do look like your sister,” she commented and handed it back.

“Here’s the bus,” I said. We showed “our” bus passes, dropped coins in the box and looked for seats. “There’s a couple o’ seats somewhere in the middle, pretty girl,” the bus driver said. I did a small double-take, but the guy seemed harmless and was sincere in his little compliment, so gave him a smile. “Thank you,” I said.

We walked down the aisle and found an empty bench. I gestured and Fallon slid in and sat near the window, while I sat on the seat by the aisle. I looked around and apparently we took the last seats. As the bus pulled out, I looked back and saw Hennessy at the bus station. He looked at me, and then at the posted map that showed the bus route.

I tugged on Fallon’s sleeve. “Goth-girl…”

“Stop calling me that!” she whispered, giggling.

“Okay, okay.” I said soothingly. “But Hennessy’s there at the bus stop!” I pointed a thumb back at the bus station.

“Then he saw us get on!” She thought a bit. “Ohmigod! He can figure out the bus schedule! He’ll figure out where we’re going!”

“Nikki’s house and mine are a bit far away from the main road, so I doubt if he will know how to get there. Still…”

“Yeah?”

“How about we get down at the mall? Spend maybe an hour there? We’ll throw him off the scent that way, I’m sure.”

“You wanna go to the mall?”

“What’s so strange about that?”

She pointedly looked me up and down in my outfit. “You’re sure you’re really not a girl?”

“Oh, shut up!”

She giggled.

We had a fun time talking about all sorts of things, but mostly music, and it was surprising that she knew so much about pop bands and top-forty music. Looking at her, I thought I could only expect goth-rock. After maybe fifteen minutes, we got off at the bus station near the mall entrance and went in.

We decided to window-shop and to look through a couple of the stores. Inevitably, one of the stores we went to was a store selling goth-type clothes and accessories and, despite my misgivings, I did find the place interesting. I was able to buy a sleek little pen with a silver barrel and a black clip for myself and a little stainless-steel crucifix on a silver chain with matching silver earrings and a silver tennis bracelet for Danielle.

Through our little excursion, we got to know each other better. I was clueless about people like her (and it sounds so snooty to say that), and I got to see things from her side. As an outcast all my life, I knew what she felt. In a way, we had this in common and we bonded. She wasn’t shy about saying what she wanted, and she let on that if I was a real girl, she’d totally go for me. But she said I was totally safe. I tried to believe her but the looks she kept throwing my way when she thought I wasn’t looking weren’t assuring me too much.

I looked at her as she giggled at one of my jokes while she sat on the couch in this shoe store we were in. She was trying on a pair of black velour boots that went well with her all-black ensemble, and I was thinking she was actually very pretty and, goth girl or not, a pretty girl who was clearly into you makes a guy react. She decided to buy the boots and walked back to the counter in a very slinky way. And if this doesn’t stop soon, my so-far-perfect disguise, especially the skin-hugging leggings, wouldn’t be so perfect anymore… if you know what I mean… Despite this, we had a fun time. She clearly thought I was wearing falsies — a notion I didn’t dissuade her from. She had to stop herself several times from telling me to try on some of the clothes that we looked at. I had no such compunctions at all about her so I encouraged her to try on some of the outfits we saw.

One of them was this combination of a sort-of wrap-around denim skirt with big buttons, and a halter top that was designed to look like the top part of a pair of jeans, with what looked like the rear pockets of the jeans strategically placed where her breasts were. I’m afraid I’m describing it real badly, but the outfit really made her look real hot. She also freshened up her eye makeup and replaced her purple lipstick with a bright-red one. Her new black velour boots went real well with it. I must have gaped at her because she giggled at me. “You like?” she asked comically and struck a pose, and I just nodded dumbly. “Then I’m buying it.” She went to the counter and paid, and kept the outfit on. After a while of me just walking silently beside her, she said, “what’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” I just shrugged my shoulders spastically. She giggled at that and looped her arm through mine. “Wanna make out?” she whispered in my ear.

I looked at her in shock.

“Kidding! Kidding!” she said and giggled, kissing me on the cheek in apology.

I saw a little 50’s-style parfait shop. “How about some ice cream,” I said, trying to escape her very frank behavior. I was starting to worry again. I thought she liked girls...

So we went in and told the soda jerk (I had to explain the term to Fallon, using Pop Tate from The Archie’s comic as my reference) that we wanted two chocolate sundaes in tall parfait glasses, and sat at the counter as the guy scooped out the necessary ice cream.

In a short while, we were confronted with two tall parfait glasses with alternating scoops of vanilla, chocolate and strawberry ice cream, smothered in chocolate syrup and topped off with a generous dollop of whipped cream and a cherry with a stem. On the side were crispy wafer cookies and two tall glasses of water. Soon we were digging in, but I think I was a little too enthusiastic as I had to stop for a second because of brain freeze. Fallon laughed as I drank the water to thaw out. “So that’s what the water’s for,” she said. I nodded, still unable to speak. When my head wasn’t hurting anymore, I took a bite of the wafer cookie, and looked at Fallon.

She was looking at me in delight, and I couldn’t help but marvel at how cute she was. She was very pale, which went well with her red hair. And the bright red lipstick really set off her face.

As we slurped our desserts, I noticed the silence and that a lot of people in the parlor were looking at us. I tried to think of how we looked to everyone else, and it’s no wonder people were staring. Two cute giggling redheads eating ice cream at the counter probably for the first time would naturally attract attention. Sure enough, a couple of guys started making their way to us. They sat down on either side of us and started chatting us up.

“Buzz off,” Fallon said in no uncertain terms. When they didn’t move, Fallon got off her stool. “Buzz off,” she said again. “Now!”

The two quickly left and made a beeline for the door.

We looked at each other and burst out laughing, but as we got ourselves back under control, we saw Hennessy through the large picture window walking around outside. We both ducked down simultaneously.

“He’s tracked us down!” Fallon exclaimed. “We gotta get out of here.”

We got down off our stools and creeped towards the window. We looked out and saw Hennessy walking away. She gestured at our stuff. “Get our things,” she said.

I creeped back and got the two shopping bags of stuff she bought, and my borrowed backpack. When I got back to her side, I handed her her stuff. She took my hand and we moved out the door.

Hennessy was slowly walking away, looking through store windows. We briskly walked in the other direction. As we rounded a corner, we breathed a sigh of relief.

“Hey! Danny!”

“Run!” I cried. I put my arms through the backpack’s straps, grabbed one of Fallon’s shopping bags and ran.

Fallon ran with me. We spotted the escalator and sprinted down to the ground floor. One of the mall security guards blew a whistle.

I got a bright idea. I went to the security guard. “Sir, that guy up there’s chasing us. We don’t know why, but he’s been following us around the whole afternoon.”

The guard looked. Hennessy just got off the escalator and was about to renew the chase when the guard blew his whistle again and started for him. Hennessy stopped in his tracks. After a split second, he ran back to the escalator and sprinted back up with a couple of mall guards in hot pursuit.

We slipped out the mall and, when we were out in the parking lot, we breathed a sigh of relief. We were giggling in nervous relief and went to the bus stop. “What do you think?” I said.

“Well,” Fallon said, “I guess that Hennessy guy isn’t as dumb as he looks.”

“He’s going to be in the mall for a while, I guess.” We giggled. “So, I guess it’s safe to go to Nikki’s now. You game?”

“Let’s go.”

We got on the bus and got off the nearest bus station to Nikki’s, which was just a couple of minutes’ walk to her house. As we got near, I found Danielle and her friends pull up in her friend Joanne’s van.

“Danny!” I heard Danielle call out.

Danielle got down and looked at me, mouth agape. “You got to be kidding. Wow!”

“Danielle! I thought you were out on a field trip.”

“We just got back. Mickey told us what was happening and we rushed over.”

She gave me a hug. “Wow, Danny! You look real sexy in my clothes.”

I belatedly saw everyone else gaping at me likewise.

“Ahem,” I said in embarrassment and extricated myself from Danielle’s arms. “Girls, I’d like you to meet my new friend, Fallon.” And then I introduced Joanne and Mel, and last of all, Danielle.

“Fallon, this is my sister Danielle, in the flesh — the girl who owns the clothes I’m wearing.”

“So,” Fallon said. “You guys are twins.”

“Yup,” I said. “Fraternal twins…”

“Ummm…”

Danielle went and shook her hand. “Yes, Danny’s my twin brother.”

Fallon repeated her non sequitur: “Ummm…”

Danielle giggled. “Not to worry — Danny doesn’t go around dressed like a girl all the time. Just when he’s trying to escape from someone.” She giggled again.

We walked up to Nikki’s porch, and Danielle asked what happened. Fallon filled the girls in while I got my two boxes out. I pressed the doorbell and waited, fidgeting nervously.

The others grew quiet and waited for Nikki.

After a bit, Nikki opened the door and looked at me. “Hey, Danielle. Back from your field trip.”

“Yup,” Danielle responded from over my shoulder. “Hey, Nick.”

Nikki looked back and forth at the two of us. “Danny, is that you?”

“Ummm, yes…”

Nikki giggled. “Halloween part two? There must be a long story behind this. You guys come in and tell me all about it.”

“Ummm, first things first,” I said. I handed her my two packages.

“What’s this?”

“Just a little gift. To say thanks for what you did last week.”

She looked puzzled.

“The camera club? Remember?”

Nikki smiled. “Thank you,” she said. She opened the smaller box and took out the batteries. “Hey, cool. I can use these.”

She then opened the other box and brought out the teacup rose arrangement. Everyone went, “Ooooh!”

She looked at it for a moment, and then smiled at me. She put her arms around me and hugged me.

We all went in and had a little snack. I wasn’t too comfortable. Girl-chitchat wasn’t something I was used to. Nikki sat beside me, which pleased me, but got me blushing.

Everyone was talking about my outfit, but Nikki seemed to like it. So Fallon went over the story, with me filling in some of the blank spots.

As we went out later, I was thinking that the day wasn’t a total washout. I guess it was just another typical Danny day. Fallon and I invited everyone to Archie’s and we hung around Nikki’s porch while she got ready.

While we were there, we saw Tom Hennessy walking down the street.

“Fallon, it’s him!”

Danielle and the others looked and saw the guy walking towards us.

The guy’s persistent, I have to give him that. But I guess I have to face him sometime. Otherwise, this will go on until I do.

I walked down to the street and stood in front of Nikki’s driveway.

“Danny,” Danielle called. “What are you doing!”

I waved her back. “It’ll be okay, Danielle.”

I stood in the middle of the street, hands on hips. I felt like one of those cowboys in one of the old westerns, just about to do an old-fashioned shoot-out. But the leggings and the girlie sweater just didn’t make it. I giggled silently to myself.

Hennessy walked slowly towards me, and stopped about twenty feet away.

We looked at each other silently, like we were waiting for someone to make the next move. The other girls stayed by Nikki’s door, waiting for something to happen, I guess. The only things missing were the tumbleweeds and the odd cactus.

“So…” I said. “What now, Tom?”

“Hey, Danny,” he said.

“Why have you been following me?”

“I just…”

“Yeah?”

“I just…”

“What!”

He quickly walked up to me and raised the white stick he’d been holding. I cringed and waited for the pain.

“Here,” he said.

I opened my eyes slowly, and I saw him holding out the stick.

“I just wanted to give you this,” he said.

I looked and it wasn’t a stick. It was a paper-wrapped long-stemmed rose. I looked back up at Tom. He must be cracked. “I just wanted to say sorry for Halloween.” I reached over and took the rose. “Ummm… well, thank you, I guess…”

He was looking down. “And I also wanted to say,” Tom said shyly.

“Yeah?”

“That I like you… A lot. Well, see ya.”

He turned and started walking back the way he came.

“Danny?” He stopped and half-turned.

“Huh?”

“You look pretty in that outfit.”

I looked at him as if he was crazy.

“Well, okay… Thanks…”

And then he walked away.

Like I said — just another interesting Danny day.
 

http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot

Author’s Postscript: I originally wrote this little story for the November 2009 Story Challenge but didn't make the deadline because of some family and work concerns. But I decided to still post it, and wrapped up the story during the holidays, and here it is. It's not the best, but I hope you like it nevertheless. And never fear, my Danny story will be continuing and I'll post some new installments as soon as possible. As always, comments are welcome. And Merry Day-After-Christmas to everyone!

   
Author Notes: This story is just a quick-paced, humorous little tale, where the guys from Lilith Langtree's The Center meet Danny. The events portrayed here are quite left of center, as in reeeally left of center, even for Danny. So, it makes you ask - did they all really happen? Were they stuff that Danny just dreamed up coz he ate too much of his mom's crunchy spaghetti again before going to bed, or maybe he was thrown into some weird parallel universe or something? Or maybe they really did happen? Good questions, all, but no one really knows the answer. heehee... Not even Danny. Still, it's a lot of fun.

Please note that the events here will not affect anything in The Center, nor in Danny's world - think of it as a completely separate story altogether. But for those who are curious, or would like to try to pigeonhole this little vignette into the Dannyverse just for the heck of it, it would probably be part of the soon-to-be-posted Danny, Part Seven. It's not... but it could be... (The last chapter here is a preview-excerpt from Part Seven, by the way.)

For those who don't know what the heck I am talking about and find all of the things in the story a bit confusing, it's probably best for the readers to check out "The Center" and "Danny" first.
( http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/15964/center and http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14774/danny respectively)

(Thanks, by the way, to Lilith, and everyone else I sent a copy of the draft to for previewing prior to posting.)

In any case, I hope you enjoy this fun little romp.

The characters Kris Keys, Ray Lomax, Dani Marks, Sheri Kirsch, Heather Davis, Vee, Rita McFadden, Liz Keys, Miss Bonsai and Colonel Harris are from the fictional universe of The Center by Lilith Langtree, and are used with permission. (Lilith has mentioned that there are a lot of non-canon elements so this will be classified as "fan fiction," per her Post "The Center: Universe Rules and Information".) The Black Widow comic character and image are the property of Marvel Comics: this story is partly a fan-fiction story - no copyright infringement is intended.

   
   
Chapter 1:    Cosplay Girls

I ran down the main building's steps, rushing to my car, happy that school's out for the day. I waved to Danielle, Drew, Morgan and the others. We were all meeting up at my girl Nikki's house later. Nikki was home sick, and I promised to bring her something to make her feel better (she was actually feeling a lot better but was just milking the situation to get a couple more sick days in). So I was rushing to get something for her, and then I was going to rush back to meet the others over at her place later. Flowers were out coz I knew she was allergic to certain plants but I couldn't remember which at the moment, so I thought of just getting chocolates. Pretty cliché, though. I mean, chocolates... lame much? Maybe I should go all out and buy some that came in a heart-shaped box... Not!

But then, what do I bring her? Chicken soup? She's sick, after all. Hmmm... That's an idea... Heheh.

I was running to my car but when I got there, I braked hard - there were people in the way. A bunch of refugees from some comic-book were blocking my way. Actually, four refugee chicks and one regular chick. Actually, five real hot chicks, about my age, except that four of them had anime hair - one had pure white hair, another had chocolate-brown hair with blonde highlights, another with purple hair, and the tallest had pure-black, maybe blue-black, hair and a large star-shaped tattoo on her face. The last one looked pretty normal, though, and sported regular, run-of-the-mill brown hair. All of them pretty hot. Though I knew Nikki wasn't around, I reflexively avoided looking at them except at their faces. (Of course, I couldn't do anything about peripheral vision, and I silently screamed "score!" in my head.)

"Cool your jets, Red," the girl with the purple hair said.

"Watch who you callin' Red, Shrinking Violet," I said, gesturing at her hair with my eyes, and laughed sarcastically. Well, just a little bit. What a babe. "Who the hell are you guys, anyway?"

"Shut up," the normal-looking one said, and turned to the absolutely gorgeous black girl with the chocolate hair and blonde streaks. "Is she the one, Dani?" She? They must think I was my sister Danielle. But I was in guy clothes, I was wearing a low guy's ponytail, and you couldn't see my sports bra.

Chocolate Girl giggled. "Yup, she's the one." Dani?

"Pretty scrawny, I'd say," the purple-haired girl said.

"Shut up, Sheri."

"But, Kris! You heard what Dani said at the Center. This girl doesn't match what she said she saw. I thought we went here to recruit some six-foot-eight amazon! That'd be cool! Instead, we get..."

The normal one stared her down, and she eventually shut up. Normal looked at Mocha Girl again. "I hate to say it but Sheri has a point, Dani. I don't think she's the one."

Dani looked at me again. "No! She's the one! ... Well, I think she's the one..."

"You think!"

"Well, Kris, you know how it is - it's not like a TV in my head, y'know."

The normal-looking one made a patting gesture. "Okay, okay. Vee, tell me what you see?"

"Ummm, Kris," the girl with the tattoo said, and mimed writing on a sheet of paper.

"All right, all right!" Normal Girl sighed exasperatedly and turned to me. "Miss Fairchild, my colleague needs to do a procedure on you, and she's reminding me that, according to our rules, we need your permission. A signature on one of our forms is preferable, but since someone forgot to bring one," she glared at Purple-hair, "verbal consent will have to do."

"Huh?" I said.

"She needs to read your brain, kid. God!"

"Eh?"

Normal Girl threw her hands up in frustration. "I give up!"

"What the hell's going on!" I shrieked in frustration, and clapped my hand over my mouth. Damn, I hate it when my voice goes ultrasonic. I looked around and was relieved to see no one else heard.

"Ray," Normal Girl said into a walkie-talkie, "bring the Black Widow around. I'm outa here." She put the radio away. "Dani, I told you this was a wild goose chase. And if it wasn't for Colonel Harris and your one hundred percent batting average, I wouldn't have agreed to this damn-fool mission. As soon as Ray gets here we're going back to the Center."

"But, Kris, I had the thing... the vision... y'know?"

"Dani, she's done transitioning. And there have been no reports of anything. No houses burned down, no flying cars, and no exploding heads or other mysterious goings-on in this pissant little burg. If there was anything that was gonna happen it already happened. But there's nothing in the news. Zero. Zilch. Nada. So let's get outa here, 'kay?"

Dani hung her head. "'Kay..."

At that moment, a humungous black step van pulled up by the parking lot entrance. "Black Widow's here." Normal Girl approached me and shook my hand. "Sorry about all of this, kid." She waved to the others and turned to the van. "Let's go, gang."

Purple-hair and Tattoo Girl waved bye-bye and followed Normal Girl. The sexy black girl with chocolate hair leaned over and gave me a hug and a peck right on my cheek.

"Sorry for the trouble, hon," she said, and went after the others.

Which left White-haired Girl. She was looking at me, smiling wide. "Glad to have almost-met you." She giggled, gave me a wink and a kiss on the cheek, and skipped towards the others.

I stood by my car as they drove away, with Chocolate Girl and White-hair waving to me from the back windows.

"Dammit, what the hell just happened!" I exclaimed as the van drove away.

   
Chapter 2:    Like an Open Book

The next day, after classes, I and the gang were walking down the hall toward the school's main entrance. I had my backpack on my back and the neck of my old three-fourths imitation Strat in my hand (I deliberately don't bring my Rockergrrl guitars anywhere in case someone recognizes) when I saw through the windows three of the five girls from yesterday standing by their big van parked on the street by the school.

"Dammit," I said. "It's those crazy chicks again."

"Those manga babes from yesterday?" Mickey asked. "Cool! Where! Where!" He started rubbing his hands together like some sex-crazed maniac. Joanne hit him over the head with her purse. "Ow! What was that for?"

Joanne leaned over and patted his cheek. "Just for you being you, hon," she said sweetly, which broke everyone up.

I told the gang about what happened, except the part where they thought I was Danielle. No need to worry anyone. Some were thinking of calling the cops, but Morgan said there's really nothing to report, except that there's a bunch of crazy cosplayers looking to recruit some more cosplayers. Danielle said we should wait on calling the cops until something else happens.

"Have to tell you, l'il dude," Joanne said, turning towards me, "Nikki found your big tub of chicken soup thing hilarious. And sweet."

"She did? Cool!" Morgan and I did a high-five.

She pulled me towards her by the collar. "Don't do it again."

"But you said she thought it was sweet!"

"Yes, she did. But it was a really big tub, so she said we should all share."

"So?"

"So I hate chicken soup," she growled.

"Oh..."

She let go of my collar, tossed her hair (or she would have, if her hair was straight and long enough), and tried walking away in a huff. Didn't work though coz we all huffed with her down the hall.

"She reeeally hates chicken soup," Danielle whispered to me.

"Gee, thanks," I said dryly. "Good to know."

As I passed yet another window, I saw the van still there, but the people weren't standing beside it anymore. I turned to the guys to point the van out, but an arm reached out from a small storage room right next to the window and pulled me in by my neck, backpack, guitar and all. "Urkkk!"

I woke up in the van. From all the bouncing, I assumed I was in the van. I was lying down on a foldable gurney surrounded by the girls from last looking down at me, except they were missing the normal-looking-girl.

White-haired Girl leaned down and bussed my cheek. "We're baaack," she whispered in my ear.

"Hey," I said groggily. I looked around. "Where's the other one?"

Chocolate Hair pushed her aside. "Kris took the Citation and went back to the Center," she said. "It's only us this time." She flashed a little light in my eyes, checking me out, apparently. "You're okay," she said after a bit.

"Well, I hope someone explains what's going on this time."

"Sure, honey. We're just a few minutes from HQ. As soon as we get there, we'll explain everything."

"I hope that includes an explanation why I was kidnapped and strapped down, too."

"Surely," White Hair said, giggled, and gave me another kiss on the cheek. Nikki wouldn't like that... Cool...

After a while, I felt the van make a few last turns and then it slowed to a stop.

A big guy with green hair came into the cabin. Yike. Another cosplayer.

"Okay, we're here," the big guy said.

"Where is here," I asked.

"Our parked cargo plane, which we're using as our temporary HQ while we're here."

"The nearest county airport is at least a hundred miles from the school campus."

"Yup."

"Ahhh." Must've been knocked out longer than I thought, then.

"So, since we're here already, get up." Hmmm. Rude much?

"Ahem," I said, and jiggled the restraints holding down my wrists.

"Ooops! Sorry." The guy reached for something in his jacket pocket and the buckles on my wrists, ankles and waist popped open.

I got up a little warily and looked through the window. "Hey, this ain't the airport!" I said.

"Bright girl." What's with the Jolly Green Giant?

"You said we were going to the county airport!"

"What I said was that I agreed that the nearest airport was at least a hundred miles away. Did I say that we were going to the airport?"

"There were no airports near enough that could accommodate our plane," Tattoo Girl interrupted, forestalling any argument. "So we parked our plane in your lake. Our plane's a convertible," she dimpled. "Ignore Ray," she said, hooking her thumb towards the big guy. "He's just grumpy coz Kris had to leave."

Tattoo Girl had a pretty cute smile, I thought, and as soon as I did, she cringed. Eh?

"Listen," she said, "Stop calling me Tattoo Girl, okay? I'm sorry no one's introduced us. My name's Vee." She pointed at Jolly Green. "Our chief scientist, doctor, brilliant inventor and innovator, lawyer, and, most recently, our pilot, chauffeur and newly-appointed Mission Commander, Ray Lomax."

Jolly Green curtseyed sarcastically. Which was incredible to see. I mean, imagine a six-foot tall green-haired jock curtseying.

"She of the resplendent, silvery filaments is Heather Davis."

White Hair giggled and gave me a merry smile. "Babe."

Tattoo Girl gestured at Purple-haired girl as she walked by me carrying a pile of what looked like dark-blue jumpsuits. "She of the lavender coiffure is Sheri." Sheri winked at me, and then reached to pull the van's rear door up.

"And sexy black girl's name here is Dani. Same name as yours." Oh, joy... Dani and Tattoo Girl giggled.

"S'go, guys," Purple Hair said, and jumped down from the van.

Everyone followed and jumped down as well. I was incredulous at being left alone. What's stopping me from escaping?

"No one's stopping you from escaping, you know," Tattoo Hair said from outside. "And my name is not Tattoo Girl, okay? Stop calling me that. Now come on."

Tattoo Girl is real pushy. Too bad coz she's real cute, too.

"Thank you, sweetie," Tattoo Girl said as she stuck her head through the door. "But I don't roll that way. At least not anymore. My name's Vee, okay? So stop calling me Tattoo Girl and come on!"

Okay, already! Sheesh. I walked to the door and looked out. I saw we were parked on some grassy lakeside shore somewhere and, in the moonlight, I could see a big plane floating maybe twenty feet away, moored to the shore via some sort of inflatable raft-like bridge. I jumped down to the soft grass.

They were all already walking on the bridge. I had half a mind to turn tail and run into the trees, but all five of them weren't making any sort of effort to guard or me.

Tattoo Girl stopped and turned to me.

"Mizz Fairchild, you and I know you don't really want to run away. But if you do, I swear to you we won't come after you. We don't want to hurt you, and you're welcome to go anytime you want. But please come with us to the plane first, so we can say our piece, have a bite, and if you really want to go after that, you can. We can even bring you back home. Okay? Besides there're coyotes and snakes and other things out there. It's not good to be out in the woods alone at night."

Her words were assuring, but what was really assuring was the fact that they were virtually ignoring me and not trying to stop me in any way. I thought it over and when I looked back at them, all of them were already inside the floating plane, except for Tattoo Girl who was beckoning to me. They clearly weren't trying to kidnap me. And what were a bunch of kids doing with a ginormous airplane.

"Our airplane, and everything else, will be explained. At least have some dinner, okay? You must be hungry."

Come to think of it, I was hungry, actually. What time is it, anyway?

Tattoo Girl looked at her watch. "It's past seven."

No wonder, I thought. Might as well. I started walking on the floating bridge. And besides, they don't look scary. Especially Tattoo Girl.

"I said to stop calling me Tattoo Girl," she said, and climbed through the airplane's big hatch. "I mean it."

I nodded and walked more briskly. But as I was climbing through the hatch, I realized that I haven't been saying anything to her. At least not out loud. That stopped me dead in my tracks.

From inside the plane, I could hear Tattoo Girl giggle.

Whattheshit!

   
Chapter 3:    Ex-men

They explained that their cargo plane-slash-mobile HQ was based out of a C-17 military cargo plane, but it wasn't a cargo plane anymore, heavily modified for use by The Center, which, they explained to me, was a special unit of the Department of Homeland Security. Still, I didn't understand why they had the inside appointed like an extra-large motel room. High-tech and fully automated, to be sure, but orange carpeting and tacky Ikea furniture?

Anyway, we were gathered around a large folding table in the space formerly occupied by the step van they called the Black Widow, converting it into a conference area. Right beside it was another area currently being occupied by another van, this time a cool F150-type SUV. We were just finishing a nice dinner of spaghetti and buttered rolls cooked up by Jolly... I mean, Ray, and ice cream.

The girls were looking at me in wide-eyed wonder as I polished off my fourth serving. But it was real good! "Great thpagetti, Way! Lottth better than my momth. Weally taftey!" Ray looked at me as I stuffed my mouth, trying not to grin too widely.

"Thanks, hon," Ray said, trying not to laugh.

Anyway, during the meal, I corrected them - that I was Daniel Fairchild and not my sister Danielle, but it turns out that they already knew. (Inside, though, I was wondering why they still called me a "she").

They had explained all about who they were, and what the Center was about. Essentially, about sixteen or seventeen years ago, a batch of bottled water got tainted with some chemical (a long story in itself, involving a pharma company, urban terrorists and the military). Women that were pregnant at the time who drank the water had an even chance of giving birth to children who would go through a spontaneous physical change, which included a sex change accompanied by the development of certain comic-book-y powers in their middle teens.

During our little dinner-talk, they explained that the Center was put up by the government to gather up these Teen Titan wannabes, train them and, eventually, use them for counter terrorism and other military stuff.

Apparently this bunch that kidnapped me was made up of some of these kids, and was sent out by the Center to collect me since I was under suspicion of being one of them. Vee was a mind reader, which I had already figured out, Dani was an empath (that was like a mind reader, except she read emotions, mostly), Sheri was a "token reader," which allowed her to know things about people when she handled their stuff, and Heather was a "photokinetic," which was like a telekinetic but for light only. And the big guy, Ray, was a genius-level mimic - that was to say, he can easily learn stuff and therefore mimic anyone - like reading a medical or legal text or a training manual and he's a doctor or a lawyer or a karate expert. It was hard to really believe all of it until all of them staged a little ten-minute show-and-tell. Ray assembled a flashlight from a walkie-talkie, a plastic drinking cup, two forks and a piece of aluminum foil, and Heather shaped its light beam into a little rainbow-colored dragon and made it walk across the table. Vee staged a kind of ventriloquist act where she echoed what I said a fraction of a second after I said each word, and Dani correctly identified which out of twenty different flavors of pudding I preferred (which Heather hated coz I basically ate up their little kitchen's entire stock of pudding). As for Sheri, simply by holding on to my disposable Bic pen, she was able to recite a list of everything I ever wrote with it since I bought it yesterday.

All I could say after all that was, "wow."

Ray explained that, usually, in these recruitment missions, they'd be accompanied by a bunch of military types for contingencies or emergencies, or if the recruit turns out to have crazy mutant powers or something, but since Dani's vision said I wouldn't be any trouble, it was just them this time. Apparently they were swamped with a lot of stuff back in The Center and couldn't spare too many people for these "milk runs" hence the skeleton crew.

As I listened to their explanation, I had time to think and compare what they were saying with what I had been going through. I was wondering what kind of powers I would get when I get through changing.

"Lemme get this straight," I said. "These so-called abilities - they come with the sex change?"

"Yeah," Tattoo... I mean, Vee, said. "All of us here are ex-guys, except for Ray, who was an ex-girl."

"You have GOT to be kidding," I said, looking at these babes surrounding me, all google-eyed. And they're all ex-guys. Dammit!

Vee giggled. "I'm flattered. Really, I am. But I guess my, ummm, sexual preference has flipped as well."

Hmmm... "I take it you're reading my mind again, like before?"

"Well..." she said as she sidled up to me, batting her eyelashes in that clichéd way, "just a little bit?" She sat uncomfortably close. "You gave permission, after all." She waved her hands and laughed. "Okay, okay. I'll stop."

I tried to keep my cool and kept on asking questions. "How 'bout the hair? Is the colored hair part of the change?"

"Not all the time. A lot of us look pretty normal. We can't really control how we end up looking. Sometimes we get weird-colored hair and other things. Sucks a bit. Look at me." She gestured at her tattoo.

"You're kidding right? You're gorgeous. In fact, all of you are."

"Awww!" they all said, even Ray. They all moved their chairs closer. That panicked me a bit.

"So..." I said nervously. Uh, oh. This is starting to feel very familiar.

"So..." Dani giggled. Being an empath, I'm sure she knew what I was feeling at the moment, and was deliberately teasing me.

"So," Heather said, echoing Dani and looking all cute n sexy. Grrr... "How long since your change?"

"And what kinda powers did you end up with?" Dani interrupted.

"Well, I'm not completely done changing. So maybe that's why I don't have any powers yet." I looked down at my almost-empty plate. I was feeling a little depressed. After everything I've gone through, I couldn't believe it was all inevitable after all. That I'll eventually turn out to be a girl regardless... It's not fair. I was glad I wasn't freaking out too much, but I suspect that's coz it hasn't hit me yet. And I'm probably a little distracted by... my surroundings... These girls are real cute.

When I looked up, all of them were looking at me incredulously.

"What?"

"What do you mean you're not completely done?" Ray said.

"Eh?"

"What do you mean you're not completely done!"

"I mean I am not completely done. That I'm, you know..." They were all looking at me with wide eyes. "... that I still have my..." They were still looking. "... my original, ummm, equipment? You know?"

Ray grabbed me by the arm and pulled me through a cabin door. I ended up in an examination room.

"The change happens in less than twelve hours," Ray said. "So the fact that you 'aren't done yet' is impossible. The only thing I can think of is that Dani goofed and you aren't one of us. So. Loose the clothes."

"Huh?"

"I need to give you an examination and find out what's wrong or what's different. So lose the clothes!"

Given that he was a mile taller than me and a thousand tons heavier, I undressed real quickly.

After a quick round of CAT scans, x-ray, EKG, EEG, and a jillion blood tests, I found myself standing in the middle of the room in a flimsy hospital robe with the ties in the back undone.

Ray was pressing a stethoscope all over my back and asking me to cough.

"Is this really necessary?" I asked as a little bead of nervous sweat ran down my back. "Wouldn't the x-ray and scans tell you..."

Ray harrumphed, embarrassed. "It's best to be sure." This is getting familiar again.

The girls barged in and both of us jumped.

"What!" both of us said a little guiltily?

"What's the verdict?" Vee asked.

"Ummm... I don't know yet, Vee," Ray said. "I need to wait for the scans..."

"Tadah!" Sheri of the purple hair said, and pulled several x-ray plates and computer printouts from behind her back.

"The computers just finished spitting out the results," Dani said, by way of explanation.

"Gimme that!" he said, and grabbed them from Sheri. He went to a table against the wall, sat down and started poring over them, leaving my back exposed to the others.

In the ensuing silence, I started feeling nervous, prickly little goose bumps popping up on my exposed back and tushy as I felt four pairs of eyes staring at me. I wanted to turn around and find out what they were doing, but was scared to.

"What's happening?" I asked.

"Nothing," Dani whispered huskily, almost in my ear, and I screamed. How'd she get so close?

They all broke out in giggles.

Dani, Heather and Vee moved around and stood in front of me. I know that look.

"Do I have something on my face?"

"No, honey," Heather said. "Nothing at all."

"Y'know, Danny," Vee said. "You're pretty cute."

I started to back up. "Gee, thanks." My backside bumped into Sheri's hands. "Yike!"

"Sorry, Danny," she said. I shivered when Sheri "inadvertently" caressed my butt.

"You're shivering. You must be cold. Here let me close up your gown." I felt her get the ties of my hospital gown and knot them loosely as Heather touched my cheeks with the tips of her fingers. I was ready to jump out of my skin in embarrassment and a substantial amount of fear.

"Dammit, girls!" Ray said, "Stop teasing her! Heather, back off. And Vee - get out of her head."

"Awww!" Heather said, and Sheri said, "we were just playin'."

"I just wanted to - " Vee said.

"Reading minds without permission's against the rules, Vee. You know that."

"Oh, all right," Vee pouted.

As soon as they all moved away, I sat on a stool and backed up against the wall. Extremely aware of my underwear-less condition, I kept my thighs together.

We had a bit of awkward chit-chat as we waited for Ray to finish reading the medical exam results. Sheri brought me my clothes but I didn't want to put them back on in front of them so I endured being cold. I held my clothes balled up in front of me and smiled at them nervously, waiting.

The girls were eyeing me like four dogs circling a juicy steak. Cute dogs, to be sure, but...

Eventually, Ray rescued us. "Okay, I'm done," Ray said. "There is a bit of a problem here. Let's go back to the table. Danny, we'll leave you alone so you can get dressed." He gestured for everyone to leave the room, and as soon as I was alone, I started getting back into my clothes.

When we were all back in the conference area, Ray started explaining.

"I can't tell for certain if she... ummm, I mean he, is one of us. Many of the markers are there but aren't exactly the same... Vee, Sheri, what've you found out?"

"Is it okay, Danny?"

I shrugged. "I guess."

Vee took my hands in hers and looked deep into my eyes in a very uncomfortable way. I felt a kind of tingling in the base of my spine. So this is how mind reading was. Don't understand what the big deal is... except for the actual reading of minds that is....

But after a minute or two, Vee groaned and dropped my hands. "Dammit! Ray, it's not working!"

"Is she like blocking you or something?"

"That or I'm too distracted! All I can get are surface thoughts."

"Let's try again later. Sheri, your turn."

"I need something of hers."

Ray got up and left the room for a moment and came back with my backpack.

"Danny, is it okay for Sheri to go through your stuff?" I shrugged again. "Here, Sheri, use this."

As Sheri started taking stuff out of my backpack, Ray turned back to us.

"Sheri's gonna take a while so, in the meantime..." He brought out my examination results.

"From a gross physical examination, I guess you might say Danny is, in street terms, a she-male." The girls all looked at me with raised eyebrows. "But based out of the full-body scans and blood work, Danny is actually more female than male, except for the, ummm, dangly parts."

Sheesh! Ray's an incredible doctor-mimic, but he needs to work on his mimicking and improve his bedside manner.

"Do you know about all of this, Danny?"

Guess it's my turn. So I told them about me and everything I've gone through, except about Batch Fourteen and everything else that I was supposed to keep secret. It was kind of a relief to be able to unload, and although I'm sure they just wanted to hear the details of my, umm condition, I ended telling them about a whole lot more. Like my constant fears and insecurities, about my friends, my twin sister and the fact she's named Danielle (which interested Dani a lot), the adventures that we have had and about the complications that my condition added to our little escapades.

I told them about my near-breakdown when I finally noticed my breasts, the hormone anomalies discovered by the doctors, the twice-a-month shrink sessions, my band and our twice-a-week gigs at Mario's, my freaky voice (they laughed their heads off when I did my Bimbo Betty and Brad Pits voices), and so many other things. I guess no one can really blame me for opening up to strangers - it was the first time I was able to open up to people other than my friends. I suppose this is the way for a lot of people forced to keep secrets. Besides, they might be able to shed some light on my condition.

In any case, it was near midnight when we wrapped up. Ray said that he needed to run more tests so I promised to meet up with them tomorrow after school. Four hours earlier I was about to run away. I can't believe I'm promising to return to my captors voluntarily.

Vee and the girls drove me home in the Black Widow at about one in the morning (not that late, but late enough to make mom n dad go into a hissy fit when I got home) gabbing all the way. Turns out we weren't too far from town, and with me giving directions, we made lots better time. On the drive home, they shared their own little stories about having to cope with being girls now when they were guys less than a year before. Selecting what to wear, how to behave, relating to others et cetera. But most importantly, learning to live with it. It's like the transsexual version of girl talk. Anyway, I got hugs all around before they dropped me off at my house and zoomed away.

Now, how do I get past my folks?

Waitaminnit... where's my guitar and backpack? Oh, darn...

   
Chapter 4:    Dee

Actually, it was a good thing that I forgot my backpack and guitar. That way, I was able to tell my folks that I got mugged and was at the police station the whole time filing a report and waiting for the cops to get my stuff back. So instead of getting yelled at, my mom gave me a hug and got me a piece of cake.

At school the following day, I was flipping through a newly-bought steno pad to tide me over until I get my stuff back. I told the guys the cover story so I got made fun of. I knew I shouldn't have left them in Burger King last week without a ride.

At the end of the day, I stood by my car, waiting. I told everyone that they should go on ahead and told Danielle that I would be going home late since I had to go back to the police and see if they got my stuff back. So that means, as long as I was home at around eleven I was fine.

I was in a bit of hot water with Nikki, though. Everyone was going to a welcome-back-to-school dinner for Nikki at the mall but I had to beg off. Nikki said it was okay, but I could read between the lines. Dammit!

Dani, Heather and Vee showed up soon after the gang took off. They explained that Sheri and Ray were doing some research. No van this time so we took my car. They had parked their plane relatively near and I didn't have too much trouble finding the spot. I parked on the grassy part next to the Black Widow (a name that didn't really suit the van - I mean who would name a step van The Black Widow). I saw their plane in the daylight and it looked even larger.

When we got out and I walked around the van's front, I saw the rad custom Ford F150 Raptor with a cab-van cover parked beside it, and Sheri was sitting on its hood with her arms wrapped around my guitar.

"Hey, Tattoo Girl," I said, and waved to her.

"Hey, Rockergirl," she fired back, and walked up to me.

"Excuse me, that's Rocker Grrrrl, thank you very much!" I said, and we both giggled. Seems she's been doing some readings on my guitar. Wonder what else she knows. Well, I didn't mind. Much.

"What's with the truck?" I asked.

"We needed more room inside," she said. "Also, we all decided last night. From now on, we're gonna start calling you 'Dee.' To avoid confusion. How does that sound?" She put her arm around my shoulders and we walked to the plane together.

I shrugged. I guess that was okay.

The girls and I sat at the conference area, like last night, and I asked if they found anything new. We went through a new pile of printouts and x-ray plates, and after quoting me really long science-sounding terms, they said that they weren't any closer to any conclusions than last night.

"Ray's on the phone with Kris," Dani explained, "you know - the girl who went back to the Center? She's actually our boss. As soon as he comes back, he can explain it a lot better than we did." Their boss? That girl must be eighteen only, twenty tops. And she's their boss.

They were, however, able to give me lots of information about my intersexed condition. Unfortunately, they didn't tell me anything that Dr. Roberts, my own doctor, already told me a long time ago, although they missed the whole pheromone thing.

They did, however, find out a lot of stuff about my band, courtesy of Sheri, I'm sure, and they were all excited and wanted me to tell them all about it. Heather even searched the net and managed to download a bootleg copy of the Jubilee concert, which they all watched last night.

"So," Dani said, "tell us all about how it is to be a girl rock star." They all giggled. Hmmm. For a bunch of girls that used to be guys, they weren't acting very dude-like.

"Tell us about being a girl DJ on the radio, too?" Sheri said, smiling gleefully and wagging her eyebrows.

"What?" the others said simultaneously.

"What're you talking about?" "Dee's a DJ, too?" "You're kidding!" "Ooh!"

I had to shake my head to clear out the high decibels bouncing around in my skull. I'm starting to doubt if they were ever dudes.

Thank god Ray took that moment to come in.

"Hey, Danny," he said.

"We're callin' her Dee!" Dani said.

"All right. 'Dee.' Okay?"

"Deeeee!" they all cooed.

Ray waved them down. "Settle down, people. Dee," (the name's growing on me. I guess. Not!) "I just got off the phone with Kris. And she said, given we've already wasted all this time and money on this mission, she wants us to be thorough and cover all bases, and come to a determination about you, so that all of the effort doesn't go to waste."

I sighed. "More tests, huh? What is it this time? Sucking out my bone marrow? Sample of my eyeball fluid? Teeth extraction?"

Ray laughed. "No, Dee. We're going to do something called 'appreciative Inquiry.' It's a problem-solving technique in business where you solve problems by looking at what's going right. I think such an approach might work, even in this situation."

"Eh?"

"We're gonna start looking for what is right instead of what is wrong. For starters - since all of us have all of these powers, we then check if you have any kind of power. And if we find any, then we know you're one of us."

In my mind, I imagined me working on some kind of high-tech test equipment, and in the end I'd end up with some cool kind of power, like the power to throw fireballs, the power of invisibility, or the power to stretch like a rubber band, but hopefully NOT the power to look like a gravel pit. That'd be fantastic! (Heheh. Fantastic... Get it?)

"So that's why we parked the Devastator outside so we'd have room for the test equipment."

"Eh?"

"That's what we call the souped up Ford SUV."

The Devastator? "Who the heck makes up the lame-ass names for your cars, anyway?"

"Them," Ray said, and pointed to the girls, who immediately looked away and started whistling nonchalantly.

"Anyway...” he gestured to the equipment laid out on the side where the Ford used to be. In its place was what looked like the exercise equipment in the gym my mom goes to. Talk about disappointing. Where's the high-tech stuff?

"We'll start putting you through some exercises, and find out what powers you have. We only have 'til eleven PM or so, so we better get crackin'."

"My mom sez I have the power to drive her crazy. Does that help?"

"Mom?" Dani said. "Your mom's still alive?"

"Ummm, yeah?"

"Dammit!" Ray said. He pulled out his cellphone. "Call Kris," he said, and his phone made the connection.

After a while, the other party picked up. "Yeah, Ray," she said via Ray's cell's speakerphone. We could just glimpse her on the phone's little screen. She was wearing a military-looking green blazer.

"Her mother's still alive, Kris."

This was met with silence. "Okay, I'm pulling the plug on this whole thing."

"Kris, wait!" Dani said, and walked closer to Ray to speak into the phone.

"Dani, he hasn't had a full physical change, his mom's still alive. What else do we need?"

"Wait," I said. What about my mom?"

Ray patted me on the shoulder. "All of the mothers who drank the tainted water died during childbirth."

I looked at Ray in realization. I put my hand on Ray's shoulder in sympathy. Ray put his hand over mine, and gave me a sad, melancholy smile and a shrug.

"All that may be true, Kris," Dani said, "but I still had my premonition. I saw her in action as part of the team. She's going to be one of us. I saw it."

"Dani, everything points to a mistake. He can't be one of us."

Dani huffed in frustration. "My premonitions have a one hundred percent batting average, Kris. Not one single mistake in over fifty missions."

"You're killing me, Dani. You really are."

"I'm sorry, Kris..."

We heard her sigh. "Okay. I've made my decision. Is Ray around?"

"Right here, Kris," Ray responded.

"Ray, I want you to find out what Dee really is. Do all the tests you need to do, but do it fast so I can pull you out of there. And if it turns out he isn't what we expected, then I'm gonna ask Rita to fly out ASAP."

"Who's Rita," I asked.

Ray made a patting-down gesture at me. "Got it, Kris. Anything else?"

"Just hurry up. I... miss you."

The girls all went, "oooh..."

"I miss you, too."

"Oooh!"

After he hung up, he turned to the girls. "You guys..."

All of the girls burst out laughing.

   
Chapter 5:    Gym Clothes

With the equipment that they had on the plane, they couldn't really do much to test me. The first bunch of tests they did on me was to test for esper and kinesic abilities, administered by Dani and Vee. I thought nothing was really being accomplished because all that I was being asked to do was to sit down and concentrate on things, like to try and read Vee's thoughts, or to try and guess what Dani's feeling while she had her back to me.

All it really accomplished was to get Vee irritated at Dani, and vice versa, as they argued techniques on how to test me. I did a whole bunch of other things but suffice it to say, I didn't show one iota of talent, extrasensory, paranormal or otherwise. By that time, Ray had to step in and break Dani and Vee up since they were almost at each other's throats. I suppose it was sort of like how you feel when someone's messing up something and you're just itching to take over coz you think you can do better.

Anyway, after I was through doing my disappointing mind tests (and after Dani and Vee were done almost choking each other), we moved on to the physical tests. Sheri came in wearing a workout outfit which was basically an exercise tanktop, a pair of shiny lycra pants and white sneakers, in shades of white and baby blue. Wow.

"Close your mouth, dearie," Sheri told me. I obediently closed my mouth.

Heather gave me a small pile of clothes.

"Put those on," she said. I went to the other room and the clothes turned out to be exercise clothes - a bright pastel green exercise racerback bra, bright green stretch tights, bright white bobby-socks and white sneakers. There was a bit of a problem "down there" but with a mind reader in the house, it wasn't too big a problem. Vee snuck her hand through the door holding a pair of white short-shorts, which I wore over the tights.

There was also a wooly white towel and a terrycloth sweatband in the pile. I put the sweatband on and the towel around my neck, and stepped back into the exercise area. Dani and Heather gave me wolf whistles, their argument from before seemingly forgotten.

Sheri attached some electrodes on my forehead and upper chest, gestured for me to get on the treadmill as she got on a duplicate treadmill herself. Apparently she was gonna shadow me. She told me to keep pace with her and we started to jog.

We started slowly, but gradually built up speed. At last, all my jogging with Danielle would finally pay off. Both our speeds were displayed on a big screen in front of us, allowing us to monitor our performance. After a few minutes, we were doing a respectable five miles per hour, which we kept up for about ten minutes. I started to get bored and looked at Sheri. When I finally caught her eye, I smiled evilly and picked up the pace.

Sheri took this as a challenge, and matched my pace. She smiled at me nonchalantly as if to say, "this is so boring, I don't know if I can keep myself from falling asleep."

I raised my eyebrow at that and speeded up some more. Pretty soon, it was like we were in some race. Jogging gave way to running, and after a while, we were hitting fifteen miles per hour, which was, I found out later, a verrry good pace. Sheri was pretty tall, maybe 5'9", legs a mile long, and extreeemely buff (rawr...), and so she was able to keep up the pace very easily. But after a while, I noticed that she was starting to lose steam. I wanted to give her another evil grin before picking up my pace, but I couldn't spare the energy nor afford to lose my concentration. I forced myself to try and channel Lance Armstrong or something and speeded up some more.

"Lance Armstrong is a bicycle rider, Dee," Vee said. In my head, I pictured myself sticking my tongue out at her, and that broke Vee up as well as Dani.

I pushed myself to my absolute limit and my readout said 18MPH. I tried vainly to push it higher, but after struggling for maybe fifteen minutes, I admitted to myself that I couldn't anymore and reluctantly slowed down.

"Do it gradually, Dee" Dani said, "otherwise, your legs are gonna cramp."

Through the sweat-drenched locks of hair obscuring my vision, I nodded. I desperately wanted to stop but with Dani's continuous admonition, I slowed down gradually instead.

Ray helped me off the treadmill and had me sit down on the floor. Heather and Vee double-teamed me and massaged my aching calf and thigh muscles to prevent any cramping while Dani gave me a drink of water.

When I started to recover, I looked around and couldn't find Sheri. "Where's Sheri?" I asked. After which, I heard a groan coming from the other side of the treadmills. Seems Sheri had already given up about fifteen minutes ago, and was sprawled out on the floor trying to get her intestines back inside herself.

After maybe an hour, after Sheri and I had a chance to recover and for all of us to have some dinner, I continued my testing. Sheri begged off though, and said she'll just monitor me this time.

Next up were strength tests. After putting on a kidney belt, I started working on some weight equipment. After a lot of reps on the machines, we found out that I could dead lift about three hundred KGs, and weight lift thirty KGs. Not the best stats, but pretty good, Ray said, especially for someone as small as me.

I was then asked to do some vertical standing jumps. I was averaging between three and four feet before we decided to quit for the night. I haven't really tried jumping like this before. I wonder if I did good.

Ray asked me what kind of health regimen I had. I told him that my sister and I did a regular jog around our neighborhood every Saturday. He just looked at me. "And that's it?" he said, incredulously. I nodded. He asked if I was on any medication and I told him the only things I take were the vitamin supplements my doctor prescribed. I quoted him the medicines and the dosages, which he dutifully wrote down.

I asked Dani for a glass of water and another towel as I had already completely drenched the one I had. And I had already gone through two.

"You sure do sweat a lot," she said, and gave me a fresh towel.

"I know," I said. "Pretty gross, huh? Sorry 'bout that."

"I think it's pretty sexy," Heather giggled and pulled me into an embrace, unmindful of my sweaty condition. Ray frowned a bit, and looked a little puzzled at Heather's reaction.

Dani stared daggers at Heather, and then said "Aaahhh!" when she saw the time. "Girls, it's almost eleven! We gotta bring Dee back home."

Ray looked at her in irritation, but eventually he nodded. "Okay," he sighed. "I'll call Kris. Again. Wish me luck." He sighed again. "You guys bring her home. Dee, you have to come back tomorrow. Is that okay?"

I shrugged. "I guess."

"Don't forget your stuff again."

We trooped out of the test area and out to the cars. Dani, Vee and Heather rode with me, and Sheri drove the Black Widow.

Twenty minutes later, I drove up our driveway. Everyone got out and we gave each other hugs. They then got in the van and drove away.

I turned to our house and trudged to our front door. As I looked up, I saw my sister, Danielle, standing in the doorway, clearly pissed.

"Where have you been and who are those girls?" she said.

"Ummm..."

"I asked you a question!"

"Ummm, I was at the police station? I was waiting for them to get my stuff?" I held up my guitar and backpack.

"Okay... Well, how about those girls?"

"Ummm, they were there at the police station to get their van. We sort of struck up a conversation and they decided to wait with me until I got my stuff back?"

"Well... okay..."

I grinned. Yes!! We both went in the house. And as the door was swinging closed, Danielle asked me another question.

"And what's with the leotards?"

Dammit! I knew I forgot something!

"Ummm... they're not leotards?..."

Slam!

   
Chapter 6:    Double D's

During lunchtime the following day, I went to the flower shop at the mall. I bailed on the welcome-back-to-school-Nikki thing yesterday so I got a peace offering of a half-dozen roses. I'm sure Nikki would get a kick out of toting around flowers from class to class, with her friends making a big deal about it.

I stepped out of the mall and was almost run over when I was about to get into my car.

"Watch it you!" I screamed. But when I looked up, I saw it was Ray at the wheel of the Black Widow.

"Ray!"

"Dee! Get over here!"

"What's the rush? Where're you goin'?"

"There's an emergency downtown. We need you."

"For what?"

"Just get in, will you? I'll explain on the way." He leaned to the side and slid the passenger door open.

Over the past days, I've started to trust these people. For them to say they need me... I decided to throw caution to the wind and jumped in.

"Strap in," Ray said and peeled out of the mall driveway just as I was buckling my seatbelt.

"So," I said. "Explanation?"

Well,” Ray said, as cool as a cucumber even as he drove like a maniac. He was probably channeling some speed-demon racecar driver with his mimic-powers. He was wearing a jumpsuit that looked like a cross between a SWAT uniform and an Indy 500 pit crew uniform.

As we bounced around from his driving, he tried to explain.

"I'm sure you figured out," he said, "we came here coz of Dani. Her vision was how we found you. That she saw you with her inner eye, and that it told us that you might be one of us. Actually, almost all of our recruitment missions are based on Dani's visions, and the visions of other people like her." Ray paused for a moment as he concentrated on maneuvering around some parked cars.

"Anyway, she just had another one of those, ummm, 'premonitions' this morning. Something that was gonna be happening in your little town today, and that we're gonna be needed. She said it was connected with the original vision that brought us here, and that we were gonna need you."

"What exactly's gonna happen?"

"No one really knows. Dani's premonitions sometimes aren't really exact or clear with all the details. All we know is that there's gonna be something happening, and that you'll be part of it."

Ray said that they told Kris this morning. She was dispatching some people but they will definitely be too late getting here. So it was up to us.

The thing, whatever it will be, will be going down on or near the town plaza, so the girls were walking around out there keeping their eyes and ears open for anything weird. Heather and Sheri were both wearing wigs while Vee used some makeup on her distinct birthmark so they were able to criss-cross the plaza at will, as well as go in and out of the surrounding side streets, without attracting undue attention.

Ray pulled the van up near the town hall, parking it under a convenient tree for a bit of camouflage. It was fairly far away from the plaza, but Ray sez its procedure, since the Black Widow will be acting as field HQ.

"This is the Black Widow," Ray said into a mic on the dash, "we're in position. How're you guys doing?"

"Black Widow, this is Heather. Nothing to report."

"Same here, Black Widow," Sheri said.

"Dani? Vee? Anything to report?"

"Sorry, Black Widow," Vee said. "I am picking up jack."

"Black Widow, I'm picking up something." It was Dani.

Ray and I looked at each other.

"What have you got, Dani?"

"I'm getting a big chunk of nervousness and agitation, coming somewhere in the direction of the office buildings north of the plaza. It's too faint, though. I'll try to get closer."

"Keep safe, Dani."

"Thanks, Black Widow. I'll call if I get anything. Vee, you keep track of me, 'kay?"

"I got your back, Dani."

"Thanks, Vee."

"Okay, everyone. Black Widow going on silent. Chime in if you get anything."

Ray turned to me. "Ok, hon," he said. "Time to suit you up."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

He indicated his attire.

"What for?"

"Better safe than sorry."

I didn't understand but I still went with him to the back compartment. Ray brought down a pile of clothes from an overhead bin. He looked me up and down first, and then pulled out two sets of clothes.

The first one was like a set of SWAT overalls, just like his. I took off my clothes except for my socks, boxers and sports bra. (I've been wearing sports bras for a while now, ever since I started getting boobs. Aside from making things more comfortable, the bras helped flatten them out a bit and stop people from guessing. I usually keep my bras camouflaged underneath my baggy shirts. So far no one in school has guessed.) Once undressed, I put on the overalls.

After I did, Ray couldn't stop giggling at the baggy fit. "Doesn't do anything for you, dearie," he said. I looked into a full-length mirror tacked to the wall, and I had to agree. Ray's laughter was infectious, even though he sounded a bit effeminate. But then, he used to be a girl.

"Sorry, hon," Ray said, "but that's the smallest size we have. All we have left that might fit you is this."

He held up what looked like a leather catsuit.

"You have got to be kidding," I said.

"Hon, it's this or none at all."

"Why do I have to wear any uniform at all?"

Ray picked up the overalls and brought it and the catsuit to me.

"See this material?" he pointed out the cloth of both uniforms. "This is a special kind of material that is very flexible but will not yield at the speeds of most bullets, and nothing short of a needle will penetrate it. It's the best bulletproof material around. Way better than a kevlar vest. So whatever we will encounter, I think wearing one of these would really help keep you alive."

"Okay. You sold me."

"Also..." he went to a locker bolted to the wall. He brought out what looked to me like a high-tech gun. I don't really like guns.

"This is our version of a taser." He cracked it open and it split like how I saw shotguns did. He then picked up what looked like a semi-transparent gold disk about four inches across filled with lots of sparkly bits. "This is its ammo. This disk is filled with little pellets that are smaller than matchstick heads. Each match-head, upon contact with any object, will stick to that object. If it hits flesh, or makes electrical contact with flesh, it will release about eighteen watts of pulsed electric power, at point-five joules per pulse at about three mA average current. It will do so until it burns out, which takes about five seconds. That's long enough to cause neuromuscular incapacitation. Just like a regular taser."

"How many match-heads per disk?"

"A little over a hundred per disk."

"Wow, cool. So that's like a hundred rounds? What if the match-head sticks to something else other than skin?"

"It releases its power all at once, with the explosive power of about twenty grains of gunpowder. That's about a third the explosive power of a forty-five caliber bullet's gunpowder."

"That doesn't sound too deadly."

"Well, no, but imagine hitting something with this in a continuous stream."

"Ahhh."

"Course, it takes a lot of juice to power this. And each match-head only retains its power for a short time. They have to be continuously recharged." He reached into the locker and took out a pouch with a belt. He took out what looked like less than one-half of a pink donut (like someone took a big bite out of one) inside a soft, puffy, semi-transparent silicon pouch.

"This is a power charger. When the gun's switched on, It charges its ammo via wireless induction charging, just like the old Treo cellphone chargers. Just make sure you have your taser partnered with one of these, and so long as you're within five feet of it, your taser will always be charged."

He then proceeded to give me a crash course in how to use the gun - loading it, targeting, locking the safety, et cetera.

"Y'know," I said, "this is all very impressive. But why give me a weapon, or how about just give me a regular gun?"

"Well, you need some way to protect yourself, and, legally, we're all underage, so we can't carry regular firearms, only non-lethal weapons."

"Oh."

"Okay," Ray said. "Let's see you in the suit."

I took the suit and the accompanying boots. I was about to put the suit on, but Ray stopped me.

"You know, given how that's built, I don't think you can wear it over your underwear. Hold on."

He went to another locker and handed me a pair of silky men's black thong briefs.

"Use these. They're size twenty-six so they should fit you. Just don't ask where I got them from."

I looked at the girly-guy piece of underwear with a less than happy look.

"Turn around," I said.

Grinning widely, Ray turned his back to me and started whistling nonchalantly.

I took my socks and boxers off, pulled on the thongs, adjusted my junk in its pouch and stepped into the suit. It was a little small but they stretch. Which was good if you have to... hide things... By now, I had the knack of... minimizing my... profile down there.

Though it was extremely tight, the catsuit's material was very slick on the inside, like nylon, and it had a lot of stretch to them. Clearly not leather at all. I didn't have any difficulty sliding them on. Also, when I looked at the crotch, there weren't any telltale bumps. Thank god. I was starting to worry that dressing like a girl too often is starting to become this easy now.

When I got it up to my torso, I paused, thought it over, and decided to take off my bra. After I took them off, I slid my arms through the catsuit's sleeves and they slid on easily. I adjusted my boobies in the suit and then zipped it up with the big zipper that ran from the crotch to the collar. I pulled the zip up to chest level, pulled my hair out of the collar, adjusted my boobies again. So who needs pushup bras?

I turned to Ray and cleared my throat. "Okay, Ray," I said.

Ray turned around and whistled. "Good god, Dee," he said.

I blushed like a tomato. "Shut up," I said and sat down on a nearby stool to pull on the boots. Dammit, they had at least a three-inch heel. I stood up but, oddly enough, despite the heels, the boots felt comfortable. At least with the boots on, I felt lots taller. A few pluses with the minuses.

"Special orthopedic boots," Ray grinned. "Take out that scrunchie and use this." He handed me a wide toothed comb. I shook my hair out and started combing it out.

When I was done, I turned to Ray for his opinion. "Good god, Dee..." he said.

"You already said that," I laughed.

Ray brought out a couple of juice boxes as well as a small box the size of a shoebox, and we sat in front and waited We sipped our juice and Ray took out what looked like clip-on earrings from the shoebox. Apparently, they were voice-activated two-way radios. He showed me the controls and told me to clip em on and try 'em out.

"Black Widow to Dani," I said, pressing a button on the thing a bit self-consciously, "what's your status."

"Dani to Black Widow. Hey, is that you, Dee?" I heard her giggle. Her voice could be heard very well, like I had a small speaker on me.

"None other. What's happening?"

"Well, there's definitely something fishy happening. I'm near the bank, and I can feel a whole lot of people radiating a lot of nervous energy. I'll try and get closer."

"Okay. Be careful. Out."

I sipped my juice and turned my taser gun over and over. I practiced aiming, breaking it open and loading and unloading its disk.

Ray brought out something else from the box. It looked like a kind of fold-out rifle. Essentially, the rifle part was just a mount for a copper-colored mini-bandoleer of some big-assed bullets. The "bullets" were actually incendiary mini-rockets you fired individually via a little button connected to the bandoleer itself. Ray said It wasn't really an offensive weapon but the advantage of it was that it had greater range than the taser gun. I declined.

From time to time, Ray leaned over to speak into the mic in the dash to check with the girls, and after maybe fifteen minutes of nervous waiting and two juice boxes later, the radio crackled on.

"Black Widow, come in. This is Vee. I'm starting to pick up something. It's a bunch of kids. One of em's clearly a transformee. They're on the way to the bank! They're gonna rob it!"

Ray thumbed the mic. "Okay, gang. This is it, I guess. Converge on Vee's and Dani's position. I'm comin' over. Wait for me." He pulled out something from the glove compartment and put it on his head. It was a black wig.

I grinned. He glared at me. "Not. One. Word."

He took a gray trench coat from a hook on the wall, put it on, and then got one of the tasers from the locker as well as a charger and a couple of disks and put them in the coat's pockets.

"Guys," Vee said over the radio, "they're in the bank. They're casing the joint now."

Hearing that, Ray rushed to the rear of the van. "Stay here unless we call you, okay?" he said to me. He slid the back door up and jumped down. I closed it and went to the front again. I watched Ray nonchalantly walk into the lunchtime crowd and walk leisurely towards the direction of the bank.

"Black Widow to team," I said to my earrings. "Ray just left and is walking towards you. He's wearing a trench coat and a black wig."

"Copy that, Black Widow," Dani responded. I wondered where my earring radio's speaker was. It didn't sound like it was coming from my ear.

I saw a pair of binoculars on the dash and used it to track Ray's progress. The bank was quite a ways from the van so he took about ten minutes to get to Dani who, by then, was with the rest of the girls. They talked for a bit and then they went into the bank as a group. At which point, I lost sight of them.

After maybe three minutes, the bank's alarm went off - I could hear it even this far away - and the glass doors in front of the bank exploded outward. Through the binoculars, I saw a couple of the bank robber kids pull down the bank's steel shutters, and as they rolled them down, a couple more explosions rocked the inside of the bank.

"Black Widow to team," I yelled. "what was that? Are you guys okay? Ray!"

"Vee's down," Dani whispered. Oh, no! "She's alive but she's unconscious. Concussion from being thrown by the explosion."

"Where're the others?"

"Ray and Vee are near the front. I'm here with Heather and Sheri in the middle of the floor, with most of the bank customers. The bank robbers are with the bank manager towards the back. I suppose that's where the bank vault is."

"Have you identified the changee?" Ray said.

"Hard to miss. She's about seven feet tall, buffed out like a bodybuilder, with solid red eyes and very, verrry long blond hair."

"Wow!" I couldn't stop my reaction.

"There's Sheri's amazon for you," Dani said. "What do we do now?"

"Well," Ray said, "we need to open the doors and then get the people out. Only then can we start bringing her down."

"Can we even bring her down?" Dani asked.

"Why," I asked. "What can Amazon Girl do, anyway?"

"She seems to be able to make things explode just by looking at them. Other than that, I don't know."

"What is she doing now?"

"Ummm, she is apparently making out with one of her guys..."

"What! In the middle of a bank robbery?"

"Okay, enough!" Ray said. "Dee, bring the Black Widow. Find a way to get those storm shutters open. Once you do, we'll have to find a way to get the people out."

"Okay,” I said. "Lemme go get ready."

"Hurry up."

I was super-nervous, but what could I do. I clicked the taser I've been playing with closed and went to the weapons locker. I got out another taser, loaded another disk. I rooted around and found a couple of holsters, strapped them onto my thighs and holstered the guns.

I wanted more ammo so I looked for an ammo belt or something. I found one and clipped on about ten of the disks to it. I put it on but with the ten disks, I couldn't really cinch the belt tight coz I had too many of the disks on it. I had to settle for it hanging loosely around my hips.

I got out a couple of the induction charger thingies and linked each of them to the guns (it was like partnering a phone to a Bluetooth headset). I looked down at my suit. No pockets... So I put the chargers in the only convenient place.

After putting them under, and to the sides of my boobies, I adjusted the catsuit's front until I felt comfortable. Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I had to giggle. It looked like I had a pair of double D's. I struck a pose and giggled again. The chargers pushed both of them together giving me one hell of a cleavage. Eat your heart out, Angelina Jolie.

Then I thought of the people in the bank. Gotta stop all of this screwing around and book.

I went back up front. I put the shoebox of stuff on the floor so I could sit in the driver's seat. Hmmm... I decided to take a peek in the box. I pulled out the rocket-thing, but my outfit strictly didn't have any room for it. I detached the copper bandoleer. It wasn't a bandoleer really, but more an ammo belt, except that it only had eight of those rocket jobbies. No place to put it. Hmmm.

I detached the belt from the launcher. Hey... I wrapped it around my wrist instead. Hey, neat. I was even able to tuck the trigger cable under the rockets, with the trigger pad right under my forearm. I rummaged around and got another one. I rigged it to my other wrist just like the first one. Cool. Bracelets... ginormous bracelets.

I started the van. "Black Widow is rolling," I said.

"Okay, Black Widow," Ray said. "Move it."

I moved the driver's seat a bit forward and screeched out of the parking space. I wasn't as good as Ray but I think I wasn't too bad. I screamed around the plaza's elliptical road and slammed to a stop right in front of the bank in less than a minute.

I slid the driver side door open. and jumped down. I had this urge to go, "Tadahhh!" and to pose like Superman from the comic books, but I lacked the cape. Plus the boobies just didn't make it.

"Move aside, folks," I said, in my best sexy-but-authoritative voice, sorta a cross between my friend Joanne and my scary sixth-grade math teacher, and made my way to the front of the bank.

I touched the radio. "The Black Widow is here," I said in a ridiculously officious tone. "What's your status?" Heheh. Cool.

"Same as before, since you last called thirty seconds ago, Black Widow. Duh."

"Ummm, yeah... Heheh." Better turn down the volume so I'm the only one that can hear.

I looked at the storm doors. "Okay, you guys, back up in there. I'm gonna blast the doors open. Be ready."

I looked the doors over. There were some padlock holes at the bottom so they probably lock that way on the inside as well.

Okay, here goes. I pointed the rockets on my left wrist at the approximate area of the padlock holes, placed my hand on the trigger button and fired off a rocket.

Whoosh, kaboom!

"Cool!" I wanted to say, but that would be totally out of character. I grabbed the bottom of one of the doors and heaved. Putting my back to it, I was able to heave the door upward despite the bent railings. When I had it up as high as I could, I yelled. "Ray! It's open!"

Ray came out carrying Vee. I ran to the van and slid the back door up. Ray climbed in with Vee, and set her down inside the van. I ran back to the bank. A couple of the bank robbers were peeking out. I raised one of the guns and fired a stream of taser bullets. The ones that hit the wall exploded in little firecracker bursts but the ones that hit them made them shake like epileptics and fall down.

Two down.

I stepped through the rubble and another one of the bank robbers ran towards me with what looked like a chair leg, yelling like a crazy man. When he was close enough I reached up and wrenched the chair leg from his hand and spun around to kick him in his behind. He sprawled on the floor face down. Thank god my sister gave me some pointers on self defense.

I looked around and brought up the other taser as well.

"Anyone else around?" I yelled. I saw a couple more in the upper gallery. I fired both tasers but they were too far away. They fired at me with their own guns so I ran for cover as quick as I could.

As I hid behind a metal shelf, I heard a voice.

"Dee," Sheri called. "You okay? did you get hit?"

"I'm okay, Sheri," I answered. Now you better take cover."

"Dee, stop acting like some friggin' superhero, and get outa here!"

I ignored that and stepped from behind the shelf.

Before the two guys on the balcony could aim properly, I lifted my arm and fired a couple of rockets right below where they were standing. Shhh-boom!

The part of the balcony that they were standing on collapsed and they fell. I ran to them as quick as I could. While they shook off the fall, I slugged them both full in the face. Owww! I didn't know hitting someone hurt that bad. I pulled them away from the rubble and leaned them against the wall. I then ran to Sheri, Heather and Dani.

"Anyone else around?" I asked them.

"There's no one else except the ones in the vault," Dani said.

"Are you sure?"

"Ummm, duh? Who are you talking to?"

I smiled sheepishly. "Right. Now's our chance. The front's open. You guys start bringing the people out. I'll stand guard here."

"We'll stand guard," Heather corrected.

"Heather..."

"Now's not the time to argue, okay?" She brought out her own taser gun.

I reluctantly nodded, and Dani and Sheri started shepherding the people out.

"So, who's the hot redhead in the superhero outfit" a man in a suit toting a briefcase asked Sheri.

"Is that the Black Widow you guys have been talking to?" another man said.

"Will you two quit embarrassing yourselves and shut up?" One of the women said.

When everyone was out, Dani came back.

"Everyone's out now, 'Black Widow,'" Dani said, but spoiled the effect when she giggled. "You look real sexy, Dee," she said.

"I'll say," Heather said. "Dee, you are absolutely gorgeous." She pointed at my boobies. "Is that just you or is there someone else in there?"

"Ah, shut up." I looked around. "But now what do we do?"

"Well, we'll know in a bit," Dani said.

"What do you mean?"

"She's coming."

"Yes, I am," we heard a sultry, sexy voice say.

We saw her come out from a door, presumably the one leading to the bank's vault. What I had in my mind didn't do her justice. At maybe seven feet tall (and that's excluding the heels) she had to duck to clear the doorway. She was a real big girl in other ways, too - muscles up the kazoo, but still extremely feminine. She had immense breasts, bigger than my... enhanced ones... proportionally speaking, I mean. She had the face of an angel, maybe a sex-crazed angel, but an angel nevertheless. Her eyes were sexily turned up at the corners and were red-tinged. she had long, wavy platinum-blonde hair. And I do mean long - it was actually dragging on the floor. She was wearing a tiny, pure-white monokini as well as red skyscraper stiletto heels which must be at least six inches. Good god!

Half a dozene guys came out the door, too, all of them carrying canvas bags as well as machine guns. The bags were obviously filled with money.

"Sooo," she said, even as she caressed the butts of the two half-naked guys that had their arms wrapped around her, "you must be the famous Black Widow I keep hearing about."

Keep hearing about? I turned to Dani. "Anything?"

"I'm not getting anything," she said, "except she's real horny. And I mean real horny. Like, off the scale nympho-level horny."

"You think?" I asked sarcastically.

Dani glared at me.

"Can you get any readings at all?" Heather said.

Dani squinted in concentration. "She's definitely one of us. She changed about a week ago. Used to be a fat kid named Horace. Now she calls herself Marilyn. She has slightly heightened hearing, an extremely heightened sex drive, a kind of sexual aura that allows her to control people, and an ability to project high-pitched sounds in bursts that can be explosive."

"You know," 'Marilyn' said, almost purring, "I could really go for someone like you."

I couldn't help my eyebrow from climbing upwards.

"So why don't you come over here?"

I could feel something in my head. A sort of tingling. Like the kind I feel when Vee is reading me. But other than that, no other effect. Sexual aura my ass.

"That the best you can do, Blondie?"

The amazon girl frowned. "Get 'em, boys!"

All six of the guys, plus Marilyn's boy-toys sprang into action. I pulled up both tasers, and Heather and I fired at the floor less than a foot in front of them, making them stop dead in their tracks. The little explosions sounded like firecrackers. Soon the air was full of smoke and the electric smell of ozone.

"Not one more inch," I said.

"What are you waiting for!" amazon girl screeched. "I said get them!"

After that momentary hesitation, they leaped forward again, forcing Heather and me to fire at them directly. But even though they started shaking in neuromuscular shock, they didn't stop coming. Each one required at least five shots. After which, they laid on the ground out cold, totally not moving, aside from the odd twitch or groan.

Heather and I looked at each other and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Aaah!" we heard a scream, and amazon girl literally fell on us like a ton. I scrambled back up but I noticed that Heather wasn't. Both Dani and Sheri were knocked out, and Heather was knocked back by an open slap.

Amazon girl was starting to get up as well. I backpedaled and made sure she noticed me. I walked a bit away and she started following. Thank god I was able to lure her away from Dani, Heather and Sheri. I started running away, and amazon girl lumbered after me.

When I fetched against the wall, I knew I had nowhere else to go. Amazon girl slammed into me like a pile of bricks. She lifted me, pinned me against the wall, and started pawing me. I was so short, or she was so tall, my feet weren't touching the ground. I couldn't believe how strong she was.

She was in heat or something, 'cause she started kissing me. After a few seconds of mauling my lips, she started shaking. Oh no, just like Betsy. In moments, she got weak, let go and fell to the floor in a faint. Yup. Betsy all over again. Times ten.

I looked up and saw the balcony that ran around the inside of the building. Crouching low, I jumped as high as I could, just like in the tests. I got my arms on the balcony. Looking down, I saw amazon girl coming around. Weakly, she started to reach for my legs. I kicked her hands away, swung my legs sideways and hooked one of them on the concrete balcony. Using that one leg, I lifted myself onto the concrete. I stood up and looked below. Amazon girl was so tall, all she needed to do was to just reach up and grab onto one of the metal brackets. As she started lifting herself onto the balcony, I stomped on her fingers. She yowled in pain.

I walked backwards keeping my arm pointed at her. I was reluctant to use the rockets since I was liable to kill her, but I had no other choice - seemed I lost my tasers.

Amazon girl finally pulled herself up. She started walking towards me, and I walked backwards slowly.

"Come here, gorgeous," she said. "How 'bout some more of that?"

All I could think to do was to walk backwards more slowly and stall, and maybe the guys could come up with something in time to rescue me.

Eventually, I got to the part of the balcony that I collapsed with my rockets. I crouched and leaped the ten-foot gap like my life depended on it. I landed on the other side a little wobbly but managed to stay on my feet.

Amazon girl smirked at my jump. Clearly, she thought she could do better. She got to the edge and, as she was jumping, little round balls of light popped up in between us and exploded in multicolored rainbow hues of light. Blinded, she lost her balance. Stilettos are real sexy but aren't that good for running and jumping, especially if you have a photokinetic friend around making little balls of exploding light. Amazon girl fell through the gap. Thanks, Heather, I said in my mind.

I looked down and amazon girl was sprawled on the ground shaking her head. I jumped down and ran to her. I slugged her right in the face but it was like hitting the wall. I kept on slugging her but it had minimal effect. And my hand was starting to feel like it was full of broken glass.

I walked backwards, giving me room. I glanced at the two I bank robber dudes I knocked out earlier and was glad to note they were well away. I held my arm up again and fired several rounds into the concrete balcony. Shh-boom! Kaboom!

A bunch of broken concrete blocks and other debris rained down on amazon girl, and I think that did the trick - she was finally out cold.

I cradled my severely bruised hand, and breathed a sigh of relief. I looked around and the damage wasn't too bad. The front doors and the balcony will need more than a coat of paint though. Who ever thought all of this derring-do was fun?

"Dee!"

Dani, Heather and Sheri cannoned into my arms, almost bowling me over.

"Baby, you did good!" Sheri said, and gave me a kiss.

Heather was standing to the side smiling smugly.

"Hey, Heather," I said. "Thanks for the assist. You're an angel."

Heather grinned and whistled nonchalantly, a little halo of white light floating just above her head. We all laughed.

"Why aren't you guys in suits?" I said. "it's so unfair. I have to wear this frickin' suit while all you guys are in street clothes."

"Who says we aren't wearing suits?" Sheri said.

"Dee," Heather said, "the suits are supposed to be worn under your regular clothes." They all laughed. Sheri unbuttoned her shirt and I could see she was wearing the catsuit underneath.

"Who told you that you couldn't wear your own clothes on top?" Dani asked.

After I looked nonplussed for a few moments, they all broke down laughing.

"Hey!" we heard someone yell.

We turned around and saw Kris standing with Ray and a bunch of other people by the bank doors, all of them dressed in the SWAT uniform Ray was wearing, except for Kris herself - she was wearing a green military officer uniform, every inch the efficient military leader. A pretty redhead stood beside her.

"Oh, thank goodness," Sheri said sarcastically. "The cavalry's arrived. We're saved."

   
Chapter 7:    Assessment

We went to them arm in arm, with wide grins and a happy skip in our step. When we got near enough, we heard Kris talking to the redhead.

"Okay, Rita," Kris was saying to her, "we have thirteen civilians that you need to work on. Ray, you go help her, okay?"

Ray nodded and started walking into the bank lobby, with the redhead in tow.

Ray gave me a hug as they passed. "Great work, gorgeous," he said. The redhead, Rita I think her name was, gave me a wink.

"So, Mizz Fairchild," Kris said.

"That's Mr. Fairchild," I said.

She pointedly looked at my getup. "Well, whatever's fine," I said lamely.

"Mizz Fairchild," she said again, "there are a lot of things that I would have done differently, and I am sure my people would not have made as much of a mess, but all in all, very impressive. I'll expect a report."

"Take the compliment, Dee," Dani staged-whispered. "That's a very big compliment coming from for Kris. She's a pretty uptight girl, if you haven't noticed."

"Shut it, Dani," Kris said, smiling.

A cute native-american girl came in.

"Mom," the girl said.

"Liz, how's Vee?"

"I left her in the van. She's totally all right now. She's sleeping it off." She turned to me. "Sooo... you are the famous Danny Fairchild." She looked me up and down. "Nice."

"Danny Fairchild, this is my, ummm, daughter, Elizabeth," Kris introduced us. Eh? Daughter?

"Nice to meet you." I said. She was about reach out to shake my hand but noticed that I was cradling it gingerly.

"You've hurt your hand!" she said. "Here, lemme."

"It's okay, Dee," Sheri said. "She can help fix your hand."

Liz held my hand in both of hers and a pleasantly warm feeling enveloped it. When she let go, I didn't feel any pain anymore.

"Hey, cool!" I shook my hand and it was as if there wasn't anything wrong with it.

"That's what I do," she said, giggling. A little cat slinked over and started wrapping herself around Liz's leg.

"What's Miss Bonsai doing here," Dani said.

"With you gone," Kris said, "and Liz and I leaving, she refused to be left alone."

"Are you talking about the cat?" I said.

"Yes," Liz said. "She's very possessive when it comes to her humans."

I crouched down. "Hey cat," I said. The cat looked up at me for a second and then jumped into my arms. I stood up and turned to Kris.

The cat flicked her tail in my nose a few times making me sneeze. I handed her to Liz, but she jumped back to me.

"You know," Liz said, "this is the first time for me to see her take to anyone."

"I'm flattered and all, but..."

"Oh, she's just a cat," Liz said. "Be a sport. She'll get tired of you soon enough."

We went to the bank manager's office where we briefed Kris. Kris wanted to hear all the details and we went through everything. Each of us took turns speaking, but when it was my turn, Kris wanted to get even more details. I think I talked more than all the others combined. By the time we finished, it was already past six PM. Kris finally wrapped everything up when my stomach's grumbling couldn't be ignored anymore. Kris turned to Ray.

"Ray," she said. "I need your assessment."

"What can I tell you, Kris," Ray said. "Everything worked. We got our transformee, we foiled a robbery and we got a new commando-in-training." He gave me a wink.

"The assessment I am asking for, Ray," Kris said with long-suffering patience, "is the original one I've been asking for - the one about Dee. The reason we came here in the first place."

"Oh." Ray said.

Kris looked at Ray for a moment and clicked her radio. "Call Rita McFadden," she said into the radio. "I may need her in a moment."

"Kris, we don't need Rita..."

"Ray, you know it's necessary. Actually, it might not be necessary. Depending on your report."

"Kris, I know you'd like me to say that we've found another one. But in all honesty... I don't know."

Kris frowned.

"And I know you think we're wasting time and resources, but we owe it to Dee to find out for sure, at least, one way or another."

She looked at each of us in turn. And then she looked directly at me, looking at me like she was studying me. And then she smiled. "I don't think that. I think our time here was worth it." She turned back to Ray.

"All right, Ray," she said. "You have one more day. Do your best. But this is definitely the last day. One way or the other, you will come to a conclusion."

Just then, Rita, the new redheaded girl came in. "You called me?" she said.

"Great timing, Rita," Kris said. "Ray, Rita will be staying with you until you can get back to me with an answer." Kris looked at Rita.

Rita shrugged. "If you say so, Ma'am," she said.

Kris turned to me. "I hope you can stand one more day of poking and prodding, Dee," she smiled apologetically. "But I promise you it'll be the last. Okay?"

"Okay. Ummm, so we're done here?"

"Almost. We do need to do a bit of cleaning up around here, though."

"Okay. Guess it's too late to go back to school now, huh?"

Kris nodded. "We'll help with some kind of cover story. Ray?"

"On it, boss. Let's go, Dee."

Turns out everyone but Ray was staying to help with the cleanup. After saying my goodbyes, I handed Bonsai the cat to the new girl, Liz, and Ray and I walked out of the bank. As soon as I was outside, everyone broke out in applause. All the rubberneckers and everyone else out in the plaza were looking at me, clapping and cheering.

A bit puzzled, I nevertheless waved back, and the cheering got louder.

A girl I recognized as one of the people that were trapped in the bank screamed. "It's the Black Widow!" she said, and the people behind the barricades surged forward. The commandos from The Center, who were masquerading as riot police, had a hard time keeping them back. Ray and I made our way to the van.

Ray laughed. "You're a hero, Dee."

Before climbing back in, I turned and waved again. The cheering rose in volume. We slowly pulled out, with me still waving to the crowd, and left the plaza.

Once we were away and we were sure no one else was following, Ray pointed to the back of the van.

"So, you sexy thang," Ray said, "time to change, don't you think?"

I unbuckled and wearily went to the back of the van.

"Just change back to your clothes and leave everything. I'll take care of cleaning up."

I peeled off the suit, and all I could say was, thank god it was dark blue, otherwise the sweat stains would have been extremely embarrassing. I took out the two chargers and put them on the foldable gurney along with the suit (It was probably the one Vee laid on when Ray brought her into the van. Wonder where she was.). The chargers were pretty wet with my sweat so I used the sheets to wipe them down. I also used a bunch of paper towels to wipe myself everywhere I could reach. Boy, do I need a shower.

"Ummm, Ray?" I said, "about the underwear..."

"You can keep em," he said. "I don't want em back anymore."

So I just kept them on and proceeded to get back into my sports bra, socks, jeans, white tank and loose shirt.

I sat on the floor, put on my sneaks, and went back up front.

"You forgot this," Ray said, and handed me my scrunchie. Oh, yeah. I put it back on in my usual guy's ponytail.

Half an hour later, after going through a very circuitous route to avoid being seen, we eventually ended up back in front of the mall. He parked the van right behind my car.

"So," he said. "See you back at the lake tomorrow?"

"Okay." I sighed.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

In my mind, I thought of everything that had happened to me ever since I met Ray and his friends. I can't believe that was only five days ago. And everything that happened, especially everything that happened today - it was like a dream.

I looked back at Ray. These people could easily become friends, or rather, were already friends. But they were all surrounded in mystery. How could anyone possibly believe the things that they told me, but then again, everything supported their story. But still... It would be good if all of this ends soon.

"Ummm, I was just thinking that I'll still need that alibi to tell the school on Monday," I lied.

"How 'bout this," he said. "I'll have someone call your folks and your principal first thing tomorrow. They'll be told you were trapped downtown because of the traffic that foiled robbery at the bank caused, and then you were questioned by the police all afternoon as an eyewitness, and that the police apologizes for detaining you. How's that sound?"

"Sounds good."

"I have a lot of practice making up cover stories," he said. "So we'll see you tomorrow then?"

"'Kay." I gave him a hug.

"Later, dude."

"Later, Dee. Oh, and don't forget these." He handed me the flowers I got for Nikki earlier this afternoon.

I waved goodbye as he pulled away, got into my own car, and drove to Nikki's. I was so bad at making up stories, I'm sure the guys will see right through me. I hoped that I can keep Ray's cover story straight in my head.

   
Chapter 8:    Picnic

After I finished my early Saturday morning radio program, I went over to Mongo's for our usual band practice, with my guitars and other band stuff. But since I had to be at the lake again tonight, I had to beg off from our gig at Mario's later. I told Janet but she didn't like that one bit. I said I had to do something I couldn't get out of. Eventually, she and the band agreed, even though I was being vague about what that something was. So during band practice, we picked songs that the band could play without me. When they left for Mario's, I went to the lake instead.

I wasn't a hundred percent sure exactly where they had their plane parked, but I was sure I could find it. After I turned a bend I saw the Devastator and the Black Widow parked in the same field as before. Everyone was sitting around on a blanket laid out on the grass. They were having a picnic. For me? Well, gee.

I parked right beside the Black Widow and got out. Vee, Dani, Heather and Sheri jumped up and ran towards me. Ray and the new girl, Rita walked more sedately.

Heather and Dani hugged me around the neck and I almost fell. Sheri and Vee looked on, leaning against my car, and giggled.

As Sheri leaned back, she put her hand on the hood of my car.

"Sheri," Vee said. Sheri closed her eyes and stood like a girl in a trance.

"Sheri!" I exclaimed. "What's wrong?"

I was about to put a hand on her shoulder, when Vee stopped me.

"Don't, Dee," she said.

"Vee, what's wrong with Sheri?"

"Nothing's wrong, Dee. Sheri's just... doing her thing."

Dani and Heather pulled me away. "She'll be all right, Dee," Heather said. It's that object reading thing.

I looked back at Sheri, motionless, with both hands on the car, and Vee standing beside her. I let myself be dragged away.

The rest of us tried to enjoy the picnic. The spread that Ray and everyone had laid out was excellent. No alcoholic drinks, though, not even beer. As the boss's main squeeze, Ray had to play things pretty straight. And serving alcohol to minors was definitely a no-no.

Everything was great, but despite which, though, I wasn't enjoying the picnic as much as I could. I kept on sneaking looks at Sheri and Dee over by my car. They weren't moving much. Hope they're okay.

Rita, the new girl, was looking at me incredulously.

"For such a little fella, ya shore do eat a lot," Rita said in a very strong Texas twang.

Dani giggled. "That's Dee for you," she said.

"Where do you put it all?" Rita said.

"Dee's a very special person," Heather said. "And I guess that's part of her specialness." The girls, with the exception of Rita, giggled at that.

"Tell me!" Rita said.

Dani looked to Ray.

"Go ahead," Ray said. "Kris gave her clearance."

And then everyone started telling Rita about me, and especially what happened in the bank yesterday.

Rita listened spellbound, at moments giggling like a loon, and in others staring at me wide-eyed.

It was a slow but wonderful afternoon. Although we were mostly talking about me, the talk wasn't too heavy, and was very pleasant. We watched the sun set down, red and orange lights reflecting on the surface of the lake. And as the air become cooler, we felt a mild, crisp breeze ruffle our hair, and made the hot chocolate that Dani poured out of a thermos taste real good.

I had this feeling that we were all waiting on Sheri and Vee, and that we were just passing the time until they were done with whatever they were doing. At least there weren't any tests.

I didn't mind.

I got the low-down on Marilyn, our sexy amazon girl. She was definitely a changee. She was a boy named Horace that went missing about a week ago. In a way, his going missing was a good thing because no cover story had to be made up. His change affected him mentally, and he started fancied himself as some super-powered amazon after his change, and with his, or rather 'her' powers, she started collecting a harem from all the boys in his school that used to bully him. She now has a full-time psychiatrist assigned to her, and hopefully she'll be fixed up soon.

Dani's reading was also right on the money - her hearing was indeed slightly heightened, like we expected, but so were her other primary senses, but not by much. That accounted for her being able to overhear us, and for her being such a nympho. Other than that, she was pretty normal except for her ultrasonic voice that can shatter things explosively, which was what she used to blast the bank doors and vault. The people from the Center now had her on sedatives and were keeping her throat numbed until they can figure out what to do with her. As for her sex overdrive mind control thing, the fact that I was able to fight it gave them a clue on how it worked and how to manage it. There was no danger of any orgies happening at the Center.

I commented on her super strength but Ray explained that she actually wasn't all that strong. Her strength was actually normal - any ordinary human girl that was that big to begin with, and spent all her time doing weight training, could easily have matched, even surpass her. She was just a muscular, seven-foot tall girl with strength proportionate to her size.

"Actually, she's only a Level One changee," Ray said, "not even close to a Level Two. She just looks scary."

"Oh, I don't know about that," I said. "I thought she looked pretty sexy, actually."

"Speaking about sexy," Heather said, "didja see the pictures that's floating in the internet now? About that sexy Black Widow bounty hunter?" She grinned evilly.

"Ooooh!" Dani said, and giggled.

"Bounty hunter?" I said. "How'd I suddenly become a bounty hunter?"

"That's the internet for you," Ray said. "Besides, it's a great cover. And you looked different enough that we doubt anyone will connect you with this."

I knew all about that - I've lived with Danny the singer and Nighthawk the DJ long enough to know that that was super-possible.

The Center had impounded all of the bank's security video and covered up the whole robbery, making it appear like a regular bank robbery that was foiled by the timely arrival of SWAT. They said Rita helped a lot in covering things up, but Ray didn't give any details of her involvement. Also, no mention of the Black Widow was made to the press, but Ray said that an urban legend was sure to grow around the whole incident now, especially if pictures of her keep on popping up on the net. That was kinda neat, actually.

"Hey."

Sheri and Vee were standing right beside me. I stood up quickly.

"Sheri!" I exclaimed. "You okay?"

Sheri turned to me and gave me a hug. That surprised me, but I hugged her back. She started crying. I didn't understand why. "I'm sorry," she whispered to me.

Vee walked to Ray, and they had a long, whispered talk. They started walking to the parked plane.

I turned back to Sheri. "Why are you sorry? What happened?"

We sat down. "I saw a lot of things," Sheri said.

"When you touched my car, huh? Well, I think I've told you guys most of the high points already."

"Hardly," she smiled again.

"Well, I didn't think I could tell everyone everything."

"True," she laughed.

Everyone was looking at us. All of them looked sad, or rather more melancholy. Dani looked at Rita angrily.

"Hey, I just follow orders, okay?" Rita said to Dani. "If y'all need someone to blame, blame Colonel Harris. Or maybe Kris."

To break everyone out of the mood, I asked them about life at the Center, and although they didn't tell me any details like where the Center really was, or what they did there, they did talk about life as a changee. I could identify with them so easily, the problems that they go through, or having to relate to others when they were now members of the opposite sex. I guess I envied them a bit, 'cause they could be so open about it with each other, even though I knew they had a lot of other problems I would never have.

I also found out that Ray was Kris's boyfriend (well, it was so obvious, even to me) and Liz was sort of her daughter. No one could really explain that clearly, but I just let it go.

Ray came back with Vee in tow. Ray was carrying a box with a handle on top. It was covered in shiny black lacquer and roughly the size of a portable amp.

When they got near, Sheri and Dani started crying. Rita stood, somewhat reluctantly.

"I won't do it, Ray," Rita said. "I hate it, what I have to do. I know it's necessary, but Dee doesn't deserve it. Please don't make me."

Ray made a patting gesture. "Rita..."

"Please, Ray..."

Ray hugged her. "Be cool, Rita," Ray said. "You don't have to do anything."

"Thank god!" And Rita started sobbing. But it wasn't a sad thing. She was sobbing in relief.

Dani and the others crowded around Ray. Though I felt the mood lighten, I still couldn't figure it out.

"Sit down, guys," Ray said. "I have to tell you something."

When everyone settled down, Ray put down the lacquered box and sat down with us on the grass. He got himself a mug of hot chocolate and then turned to me.

"Dee, you've heard what all of us can do, right?"

I nodded. "Except for Rita."

"Well, Rita is an eraser - someone that erases memory. She's here just in case."

"In case of what?"

"You knew that Sheri is a token reader, right? An object reader?"

"Yes. When she touches objects, she can tell things about people."

"That's right. I asked her to do that with you, so that we can find out more about you. I guess she picked your car."

"So?"

"Anyway, after what she found out - we now know it's true. That you aren't really one of us. You're not a changee - what Sheri saw confirmed it. And all the tests you went though. It just reinforces it. You aren't a changee. Or rather, you are a changee. Just not a changee like us."

"Ummm..."

"Rita is supposed to erase your memory, if you turn out not to be a changee. And you'll forget all about the past week, all about the Center. All about us. So that the secret is safe."

I didn't know what to say. I finally understood what all the crying was about earlier. But...

"So... I'm about to lose my memory?"

"No."

Huh?

"I explained, and Kris agreed, that we don't need to." Everyone cheered. "in exchange for your solemn promise that you'll keep everything a secret. And that you will try and help, if we need it."

I nodded.

Ray pointed to the lacquered box. "That's some stuff you might need, just in case we call." He wagged his eyebrows.

"Like?"

"Like a couple of high-tech taser guns, several cartridges of taser ammo, chargers, a couple of mini-rocket launchers, some boots and a set of really fancy and sexy skintight bulletproof overalls." He wagged his eyebrows like Groucho Marx.

Yayyy!

"You like that, huh?"

I shrugged.

"You know we can tell if you're lying, right?"

I gave Ray a raspberry.

   
Chapter 9:    Epilogue     (an excerpt from Part Seven of the story, Danny)

***** Nikki *****

Danny has been disappearing after school a lot lately, ever since I got back from the flu. Danielle told me he's been coming home late these days, like around midnight or sometimes even later. I told Danielle I was worried that he'd found another girl. Danielle shook her head, and said that she would know if he did. I knew how close they were, and since I trusted her implicitly, that settled my mind a bit. I then had this thought.

"What if it isn't another girl?" I said. Danielle looked at me, a question evident in her eyes. "What if... Danielle, what if it was a guy?"

We looked at each other, thinking of the possibilities and the ramifications of Danny cheating on me with a guy...

"Nikki,..." Danielle began, and faltered. "Nikki, I don't know if that's even possible." Danielle shook her head like she was trying to shake away an image in her mind she didn't like.

"But one thing's sure," she said, looking me in the eye, "I would know if he was cheating on you, whether it's with a girl or a guy. Believe me, I'd know. And he's head over heels in love with you - don't you know that?"

I sighed. "I guess I'm just being paranoid."

Danielle touched my cheek in understanding, just like Danny would. Sometimes it's like they were the same person. "But, Danielle," I took her hand. "If it isn't that, then what's he up to?"

She looked out the living room window, with an expression of both worry and fear. "I don't know, Nikki, and I'm worried."

His bandmates were worried, too. Danny had said he couldn't join the band for their usual Saturday practice this afternoon, as well as the gig tonight. Janet was beside herself, but Danny told her he cleared it with Mario and he said Mario was fine with it. Janet tried to find out what he was up to but couldn't get anything out of him. In the end, Janet and the others had no choice, and they went ahead and played without him tonight. Danny suggested they get Fallon to fill in, but Janet angrily vetoed that.

Mel and the others were there. It wasn't the band's best gig, she said, but good enough that Mario wasn't too mad. Although she said there were a lot of disgruntled people at Mario's, pissed that they wouldn't see Danny. Actually, that's why I was here at Danielle's sleeping over tonight - I mean, what's the point of watching Unlimited Bandwidth if Danny wasn't there?

Everyone assumed it was because of Janet, but no one wanted to bring it up. I think Janet thought so, too, but she pretended like it was because of something else.

Anyway, long after the show, and everyone had gone home already, Danielle and I caught him sneaking in through their kitchen door.

"So where've you been!" I huffed, hands on my hips. "We were all worried sick!"

He looked down, chastised. "Ummm, just out. And did a few errands. The bank to, umm, pay my credit card bill." He did that sometimes when the station wasn't able to pay his company-issued credit card bill on time - He'd pay it himself so he could avoid the late payment charges.

He looked down at his shoes, scuffing the floor like a guilty little boy, making me smile at how cute she was, I mean 'he' was. I couldn't stay mad at him when he acted like that. "We'll talk about it later then," I said. "go to your room and get washed up. I'll come check on you in a bit."

Danny nodded and picked up a shiny black box that was by his feet, roughly two feet by two feet by one. It looked like a big, shiny, black ceramic bento box, but without any designs painted on it.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing," he said nervously. He tucked it under his arm and ran up to his room. I noticed a slight limp. Have to ask him about that later, too.

I turned and saw Danielle giggling.

I wasn't in the mood. "What're you laughing about, little miss smartypants?"

"You sounded just like our mom," Danielle said, and continued giggling.

I just had to giggle at that, too. "Yeah, I guess I did." I gestured up towards Danny's room. "Did you notice he was limping a bit? And what was that he was carrying?"

Danielle shrugged. "We can ask him later. And that thing's probably some computer thing, or maybe an amplifier for his guitar, or something like that. You know him and his toys."

"Yeah."

After maybe twenty minutes, we knocked on Danny's door, and found a freshly-showered Danny in socks, a freshly-laundered oxford shirt and what looked like Bermuda shorts. And no telltale limp. I looked around and found the box standing beside his candy-pink guitar propped up against the wall. Danielle was right, probably just an amplifier.

And, as was typical, Danny was able to charm me out of my misgivings and we never did get to talk about his disappearing act. He polished off the big bowl of popcorn I made in nothing flat. Typical. And since he started acting normally again, as well as in the following weeks, (no more unexplained nightly disappearances, I mean) everyone forgot about the whole thing.

Later, when Danielle left us to go to bed, she reminded Danny that Dad said to keep his door open. She giggled and winked at me, shaking a finger at the both of us.

I stuck my tongue out at her, trying not to giggle myself. When she left, having pointedly left Danny's door wide open, I snuggled with Danny on the bed, staying on top of the covers. It would have been too much of a temptation otherwise, and we were expecting Danny's folks to come home anytime soon.

As we lay there quietly watching TV and wrapped around each other, I couldn't help but wonder what Danny's disappearances were all about. He said it was just some stuff for school and the glee club, and I took that at face value, as we almost always did Danny's explanations. But I promised myself to look into it. But later - right now, I was enjoying myself too much.

     
     
     
  
To see Bobbie's blogposts, click this link:   http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c  
To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link:   http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot  
To see Bobbie's Family Girl Blogs, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/28818/family-girl-blogs
To see Bobbie's old Working Girl Blogs, click this link:   http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs