"What in the ever loving hell was that?"

Jesse felt Steve's question as much as hearing it. Her melted body draped over his chest, pooled on either side of him. He gently cradled handfuls of her; by the sensation they parts she would normally smack him for touching. At the moment any contact, any sensation, proved she still lived rather than being in some nightmarish hell.

"A scream." She spoke without thinking, but her voice sounded the same as it ever did. A little breathier than usual, but nothing to complain about for a girl who'd just melted into a puddle of ooze.

Steve, bless him, took in her condition without blinking. "Duh. I meant who was screaming, and why did we all go nuts?"

Something in Steve's tone got through to the old Army Sergeant. He blinked, then pulled himself up out of his ready stance. He scowled at Steve, but speculation in his eyes told her he'd begun to see why they let the firefighter hang around. "Not sure. Whoever he is, he's upset, though. At a guess I'd say someone just lost a buddy."

"Not a girlfriend or wife?"

He turned his gaze to Jesse and blinked. "That's... that's disconcerting, ma'am."

"Call me Jesse. You have no idea how weird it is from inside." She ought to at least push herself upright, but the scream had knocked the wind out of her, and moment by moment she felt worse, not better, as she rested.

"Do you know how to stop it?"

"I'm... I don't know. I'm trying, but it's so exhausting." She tried again, but she only managed to shift herself around against Steve's palms.

"Did someone get the name of that bus?" Drew muttered, pushing herself upright with one smooth motion. In that instant, Jesse hated her friend. Every male head in the room swiveled to track Drew's motion as she swept the hair from her face and shook her head, releasing a cloud of sheetrock dust. After that she noticed everyone staring at her and frantically patted herself down.

"Oh geez. Did I mess up my clothes? Am I cut? Why are you staring like that?" She finished her search, glancing at her hands surreptitiously after running her hands over her thighs, inside and out. "Okay, what the heck's going on, guys. Did you all decide to freak me out while I was unconscious?"

The Sergeant recovered first. "No, ma'am. Just a little distracted."

"What the hell is going on with everyone lately, anyhow?"

Charlie's voice echoed from the gas-masked figure on the floor, "how do we know that's really Drew? Maybe it's a spy sent to replace her, or a really lousy doppelganger, or some kind of alien robot from the future."

Drew tossed her hands up in the air, letting out a frustrated growl. Steve's hands twitched where they supported bits of Jesse, much to her annoyance. "I'm me! Why would someone try to imitate me?"

"That's exactly what an alien robot from the future would say, and how would I know why you want to gain our trust and betray us, hmm?"

She slumped, her whole posture becoming one of languid grace. "Charlie, are you off your meds?"

Charlie gradually shifted away from her, never turning his face away. "Insulting me doesn't prove you're really Drew."

"Charlie, you saw me the day of the Rain of Fire. I don't know what happened, but you saw it happen."

"I wasn't looking directly at you."

She rolled her eyes, even that small motion an incitement to lust. "What do I have to do to prove I'm me?"

Charlie stopped, tensing as if ready to spring at Drew. "Tell me something only Drew would know, that she would never tell anyone else."

She glared at him, and just for a moment Jesse wondered if Charlie might be right. Then she heaved a sigh, lowered her gaze to the ground in front of her feet, and started muttering. "I'm gonna make you pay for this, Charlie Morgan. That time two years ago at the Halloween party, when I got a little drunk celebrating my last promotion. You told everyone I tripped and fell and ralphed on you. That's why you said you poured soda on yourself, to wash it off before it stained. You were washing off lipstick from where I knocked you down and tried to neck with you."

Charlie hunched in on himself, trash bags rustling. "Uh. Yeah. You're Drew. I gotta go." He disappeared.

"What the hell? I wasn't really going to hurt him, he knows..."

Angela interrupted with a childish singsong, "he thinks you're pretty, he wants to date you, and make some babies."

"Cut it out, Ange."

Angela's face contorted into a mask of rage. "I... can't..." A moment later she smiled and started singing again. "Drew and Charlie, sitting in a tree. K, I, S, S, I, N, G. First comes love, then comes marriage, then come babies in a baby carriage."

"Seriously, Ange. Stop teasing me. It's really starting to piss me off."

Sergeant Jack interrupted. "Girl, I don't think she's teasing."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't hold with the 'she asked for it' defense. Think guys who use it ought to be strung up. But damn if you're not a walking incitement to riot. I'm three times your age if I'm a day or I'd be looking to see if I had a chance."

Drew glanced down at her clothes one more time. "What are you talking about, Sergeant Maliss? I'm wearing jeans and a blouse and a sport jacket. Hell, it's not even one of those fake women's ones, I bought it on clearance at a men's suit store."

"Call me Jack, ma'am. Been a long time since I was in the service. Anyway, it's not... I mean... Aw, hell, this is why I never got married, can't explain this kinda thing right."

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Angela interrupted again, anger staining her non-falsetto voice. "You haven't looked in a mirror since the event, have you?"

Drew looked away, combed her hair again with her fingers. "No. Haven't really had time to fix the one in my bathroom." She glanced down at her blouse again, tugged at the buttons to straighten them. Jesse could tell they weren't under any strain, but the moment Drew stopped tugging at it the cloth naturally fell so it looked like the shirt might pop open at any moment. "I mean, okay, my bras don't really fit any more, but I've been too busy to pick up new ones."

"I don't think it would matter if you did." Angela closed her eyes, took several deep breaths. With each one her muscles relaxed a little. "Since the evening on the roof, we've each been displaying a number of unusual abilities. They seem to become more extreme during periods of extreme stress. Mr. Maliss..."

"All of you, just call me Jack."

She smiled at him. It looked forced, but he smiled back. "Jack weighs just under a metric ton, I can't pierce his skin with a hypodermic, and he can fly."

"Doc, I think you might have eaten some bad chocolate."

Steve sounded like he had to force words out past someone strangling him. "Holy shit, guys. Look at his feet."

Jesse flopped her head around so she could see. Jack's feet hovered a good half inch above the floor. The Sergeant looked down and blinked, looking nonplussed for the first time since Jesse had met him. "Well now. I have no idea how I’m doing that."

Jesse couldn't help herself, "Yeah, if you figure it out let me know. I'm worried I'm going to run down the drain if I pass out."

"As I was saying. Charlie appears to manipulate the normal flow of time. Steve heals wounds quicker than I'd believe if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, and based on the ear and nose plugs he's still wearing, his senses have become painfully acute. Jesse's doing... whatever melting thing she's doing, and she's become incredibly strong. My own strength seems to coincide with bouts of complete idiocy..."

"Nah." Jesse couldn't un-flop her head, but she felt Steve doing something underneath her.

"What do you mean?"

He heaved a sigh, and fabric ripped. A moment later Jesse swayed through the air, tumbling into the sack he'd fashioned from the remains of his designer shirt. She still couldn't move well, but with her weight fully supported she didn't think she'd run down a drain if she passed out.

"Aw... thanks, Steve."

He shrugged, bouncing her hammock. "Don't mention it. Anyway, you're not getting stupid, just... naïve."

"I fail to see the difference. And," she stopped, taking a few deep breaths, "I hate it. I can't stand being stupid."

"You're not. You don't... smell dumb. You smell like a little kid." He turned to Drew. "Hey, have you gained some kind of super power to hold your breath?"

Drew quirked an eyebrow at him, pulled out her phone to check the time, and took a deep breath. After about a minute, during which she never glanced up from her phone and neither guy looked away from her chest, she exhaled. "I think my wind's better, but I still feel like I need to breathe."

"Yeah, I know. Just wanted to get the pervy image of hot little kid Angie out of my head. Thanks. That ought to do it."

"Steve, if Ange is right I can beat the living shit out of you and there won't be any evidence five minutes later."

"Uh. Yeah. Sorry."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, but before she could say anything Angela interrupted again. "That brings us back to you. You're not only more athletic, which given your former level of training easily puts you at the level of a professional athlete, possibly Olympic level, you are also... disturbingly attractive."

"The hell? Being pretty isn't a superpower."

"I didn't say you are pretty. I said you are attractive. Gentlemen, if Drew asked you to take your pants off right now, would you?"

"I'm half naked already, and if a helicopter blade didn't kill me, what's the worst she can do?"

"I'll rip them off."

"Ooh, rough stuff. They'll grow back."

Angela cut off the argument before it could get started, "Jack, what about you?"

He shifted, clearly uncomfortable with the question. Jesse smiled; gentlemen were hard to find. "Well, doc, I don't know that I'd do that, but I'd certainly be hard pressed to say no if she asked me to go for a little walk with just the two of us."

"Exactly. I'm straight. So is Jesse. Jesse, Drew wants you, right now. What do you do?"

Sparkles danced in front of Jesse's eyes as she strained to push herself back into her regular shape. Her body morphed and twisted, but nothing went the way she wanted. In a few moments, she collapsed back into Steve's impromptu satchel, panting.

"Don't do that to me, gosh darnit!"

"As noted, Jesse is straight. So am I. If you were to tell me you wanted me right now, I think I could talk myself out of it. If you'd done so ten minutes ago when I was stupid..."

"Naïve."

"Fine, Steve, naïve. If you'd have told me then, I wouldn't have clothes on now. It goes beyond just being physically pretty, too." She stood up, walked over to Drew, and said, "Hold still a second."

Working with a few odds and ends she found on the break room counter, Angela combed out Drew's hair, straightened her clothes, and touched up her makeup. When she finished, she waved at the others in the room, inviting comment.

"Ma'am, if you were running for office, you'd have my vote in a second. That's a little scary."

"Yeah, Drew. You're crazy hot, even in that grab bag thrift store outfit."

"Gee, thanks, Steve."

Angela shoved both hands into Drew's hair and shook them vigorously. The hair band she'd used to tie Drew's hair back fell halfway out, and the rest of her hair stuck out at odd angles.

"Whoa, action heroine, straight from central casting."

"Yeah."

Drew shook her head in disbelief. Angela grabbed the lapels of her coat and, before she could react, tore one of them halfway off.

"Ange! This was new!"

"I'll buy you another one," under her breath she muttered, "one that actually matches your pants." In a more normal tone she continued. "Guys?"

"Gah. I'm getting chivalry impulses to find who attacked you and beat them up so you'll do me on the floor."

Jack turned halfway, hands on hips. "Son, I don't think you know the meaning of the word 'chivalry'."

"Hot, though, isn't she?"

"Oh, yeah." The words slipped out of Jack's mouth, and his face went beet red. "Sorry, ma'am."

"You guys are faking this."

Angela reached out, covered Drew's face with one hand, and scrubbed messily back and forth. Jesse sighed in relief, without the makeup Drew's looks should be...

Angela took her hand away, and Steve's growl rumbled through the satchel. "Angie?"

"Yes, Steve?"

"If you take one step closer to the sink, I'm gonna have to hurt you."

"Why?"

"'Cause if you dump water on her, she's gonna kill me a lot for jumping on her, and then soldier boy is gonna throw me out the window."

"Do you get my point yet, Drew?"

"Yeah, even if I believed you, what kind of use is being hot?"

Angela stared, mouth open, for a full ten count before she spoke again. Jesse had to give her credit, she didn't swear. She'd obviously reached the end of her patience, though.

"Look around, Drew. Steve can't walk around without earplugs. Jack can't stand on a floor unless it's been reinforced. Jesse is being carted around in a sack, and I'm only useful when I'm an idiot."

"Ingénue."

Angela half turned toward Steve, her eyes going wide again. "I didn't know you knew that word."

"Yeah, I'm full of surprises."

Drew threw her hands up in the air. "I still don't believe you guys. If I were that good looking, someone would have said something by now!"

"No, Drew, they wouldn't. No one wants to be the one to get shot down by a goddess." Seeing Drew about to argue, she spun her around to face the shattered mirror next to the sink. "Just look at yourself."

Drew looked, but only shattered fragments of mirror clung to the frame. After a minute of twisting this way and that, she shook her head.

"I'm just not seeing it."

Angela hung her head. "God, I wish I had a full length mirror."

A high pitched shriek filled the room, car keys running across glass. The air rippled as reality around Angela twisted. A moment later, a mirror appeared in the air beside her, tiny from distance yet growing every second. It rushed forward without moving until it stood leaning against the nearest wall.

Drew cocked one perfect eyebrow at the doctor. "Yeah, I think someone's slightly less useless than advertised."

Reality still wobbled, and it took Jesse a moment to figure out why. "Guys?"

Steve looked down into her sack. "Yeah, Jesse?"

"I think I'm about to..."

Jesse's world faded to gray.