Silhouette and I stood apart from each other in silence, while Miguel sat behind his desk with a confused look on his face.

“It’s not just magical detection, is it?” The darkly dressed hero eventually said. “I’ve never had anyone spot me as easily as you can.”

[Maybe I have a superpower the League isn’t telling me about. Were you here specifically to spy on me, or do you generally spend your early mornings creeping about?]

The yellow light of his singular eye on his mask flickered to signal his amusement. “I try to show up when important things happen. You wouldn’t believe what people think they can get away with if they don’t believe anyone is watching.”

I wasn’t sure if he was trying to insinuate that he had watched us steal the mech and crystals, or was just being vaguely annoying. Unfortunately, I was way too tired for games—and only a few steps away from trying to put a metal ball through his torso.

[Likewise, I’m sure those who think they are undetectable actually leave a lot of traces around.]

He observed me for a few seconds, before shrugging. “After watching your first trial, I was invested in seeing you succeed. Judging by the good spirits, it looks like things went your way.”

[A habit that existence is unable to quit as of late.]

“Well, I hope that your lucky streak continues, friend.” He moved to walk past me, toward the elevator. “Perhaps I’ll see you out on the streets one day. Friendly competition isn’t the worst thing—once you’re set up, maybe we can even spar.”

I narrowed my eyes as he went behind me, his footsteps silent, but I could still feel him keep moving away.

[Perhaps I could even sing you a song.]

Spinning on my heels, I turned and left the building without looking back. Sometimes you needed to shake the vending machine to see what fell out. Out into the darkness, I was almost immediately enveloped in a series of hugs.

My friends and family.

Before I could really crunch through these thoughts and feelings like heavy boots through snow, my life became a slideshow. Exhaustion hit me like a sledgehammer. Saying goodbye, getting in the van, driving home, making it into the house, and then I was in bed.

I’d earned us a few days' reprieve, of which the group were super thankful of. I knew how to negotiate, and so did the League. We were too out of energy to argue the terms, really. With how loyal and close we had all become, I knew I just needed to show that I was fighting for their best interests and they’d agree to the contract. Between that and the pay bump, they had few reservations about signing up, despite all that we had been through.

There were celebrations to be had, I was sure, but other than hastily discarding our clothes so that we could dirty up the bed with immediate rest, Roxy and I didn’t even share any words.

Even with how I felt I could sleep for weeks, I still found my eyes opening while the sun was in the early stages of the day. It was unfair. Maddening.

I was also partially confused as to why Clara was standing beside the bed, her hands on her hips.

[Why are you here?]

“You were promised to me today, Gunquake. We have much to get through.” She brushed her dungarees down and raised an eyebrow. “Your state of undress is convenient, although I would like it if you went and washed up first.”

I groaned and turned my head to look at Roxy. The super had her eyes barely open, but they burned with ferocity.

“Do whatever she says,” she murmured. “Wake me up again and I’ll kill you both.”

That was good enough motivation for me to exit the bed, despite feeling like a dried log. I rubbed at my head as I followed the techie out of the room and closed the door behind me very gently. Turning back to Clara, I could see now that she looked almost exhausted as I felt, even though she was brimming with some energized mania.

[Did you even sleep last night?]

“No. I found something to busy myself with, Gunquake. It just so happened to take up until now for me to feel confident enough to proposition you.”

My eyes drifted to the open bathroom. A long soak sounded delightful, no matter the cost. I might fall back asleep in a bath, however, so a shower might have to do.

[Could you at least clue me in on what you’re intending on doing with me?]

She smiled. “Of course, Gunquake.” Clara raised her hand and placed it on my bare chest. “But I’m sure you can take a good guess.”

I could see that look in her cybernetic eyes. The apprehension and excitement in taking over while the super was out cold. Our new partnership as hero and sidekick. The evolution of her role beyond what the League knew.

[You wish to perform invasive and extensive surgery on me in an attempt to increase my power.]

The techie bit her lip. “You know me too well, Gunquake. Although, you make it sound so salacious.” She removed her hand and stepped away. “Get cleaned up and I’ll tell you exactly what I want to do to you. You’ll need to provide consent.”

[I won’t keep you waiting long.]

And then I was alone and showering down. The whole superhero thing hadn’t really sunk in yet. Gunquake. Part of the Natural Disasters. B-Rank super group with the side job of doing dirty work for the League. Even though it was a beginning, it also felt like an end. Having to deal with Boss and kill contracts felt like years ago. Another life.

I cleaned and dried myself off. Put on some compression shorts and flexed at the mirror. I hadn’t taken that much damage at the pyramid, but being up for almost a full day with all the stress and long driving had me just tired, through the fibers of my existence. I tried to imagine myself with a cybernetic arm instead of a shotgun. Manifesting.

Next stop was the kitchen, where a chilled canister clicked into place and made me feel… relaxed. Still aching, but better. I considered making Roxy breakfast in bed, but wasn’t sure how long she’d need before murder was off the table. Perhaps I should see how Clara wanted to mutilate me first.

Off through the garden, across the cool grass, then the warm gravel between it and the workshop, and I was there at the doorway. The techie was already in an apron with a mask over her face, as if I had agreed already. She could tell that’s exactly what I was thinking.

“Do not allow my eagerness to dictate your response, Gunquake.” She sat on a stool and patted the medical bed for me to sit.

[I figured that we both knew I was so tired that I would probably consent to anything at this point.]

“True.” She tilted her head. “And while that does give me some ideas, I’d rather not try anything we would all regret.”

[Not keen to join Roxy in going public?]

I could see her face wrinkle up behind the mask. “No, Gunquake. No matter how our relationship develops, I do not wish to be your girlfriend - nor would I want my personal matters forefront in the public eye.”

[I’m going to regret becoming a celebrity, aren’t I?]

“I guarantee it, Gunquake. Shall we revert back to the matter at hand, before our exhaustion leads us further astray?”

The question of whether a tired techie was the best hand for performing surgery disappeared once I realized how away from the point we were getting.

[What’s the procedure, doc?]

“I ran the crystals through the scanner last night.” She gestured over to the side counter where a couple of them lay. “Good news is there’s nothing corrupting or overly toxic about them. Fascinating, really. So I started breaking them apart, and you’d never guess, but they retain their arcane energy storage capability, even when the structure has been split.”

[You want to put something inside of me, don’t you?]

Clara hesitated slightly before rolling her eyes. “I said to keep on task, Gunquake. I found that I could reduce the crystals down to a powder and they still retained charge, albeit not as powerful as the whole. Magic is amazing, isn’t it? Now I want to infuse you with it.”

[I see. You’ve really come around to liking magic just like that?]

“It’s like technology in some regards,” she looked up at the ceiling and cupped her chin in thought. “If we can figure out in what way you are granted the magic spells you possess, we should be able to then reverse-engineer the process to give you new magical abilities.”

Although a far departure from her usual view on these things, Clara being able to cultivate my magic alongside my tech sounded like the best of both worlds. Perhaps Belle could get involved to guide the process.

“You’re thinking too loudly, Gunquake,” she then said, looking back at me. “I’ve already sent a message to Belle to work with us on this project. I’ve also sent one to Ren for assistance in the growth of our compound, and the Captain has some old contacts that we might pry from him now that Snake is in jail.”

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

My mind briefly drifted to the prison break that was reported yesterday, before concern had me frown at the energetic techie.

[Just how much caffeine have you had?]

“Ah.” She shrugged and stood to arrange some tools on the metal tray. “I may have accidentally inhaled some of the powdered crystal during the process. While it has some energizing benefits and would be a nice mix into your canisters, as we have a finite amount of them, I didn’t want to take the plunge just yet.”

[So you’re going to add that to my bloodstream?]

“No. Into your synapse connectors. I will also draw a syringe of it so that I can test for nanotech or what you might actually have in there.” She placed her hand on my leg. “I will need to put you under, take your mask off, and cut open some of your chest. The results might not be as we expect, or worth the effort. Although you are my guinea pig, I wouldn’t propose this unless I believed in the process and myself.”

[It has to be right now?]

Clara nodded eagerly. “Flow state. I need to join all the dots before sleep wipes the board clean.”

[Alright, I consent. At least I’ll get some sleep from it.]

“That’s the spirit, Gunquake. Plus, if you die, then I’ll have a few hours to run before Roxy wakes up.” She picked the scalpel up from the tray. “Nope, I don’t need this yet.” She put it back down.

I was too tired to be worried, even if she didn't seem exactly herself. She had earned enough trust in my short time with her that I didn’t fear what she had planned. I shifted around on the bed and laid down.

Clara appeared over me, now holding a syringe. “Despite my earlier statement, I have a love for you that is disjointed from regular romantic notion. I trust you and feel safe around you. That is enough for me, Gunquake. I am also sticking you with this anesthesia as I tell you this to avoid furthering this conversation because I don't have all my faculties at present.”

I went to respond, but true to her word—the empty syringe appeared in her hand and I couldn’t quite get the words to reach my vocalizer. I blinked slowly three times, the techie vanishing from my view to leave me with the plain ceiling, and that was it.

My eyes then opened again, as if only a few seconds had passed, but I could tell it had been a few hours by the change in sunlight coming through the window. There was a slight ache in my chest and my muscles felt sluggish, but otherwise, I seemed to be living and fully functional. There was also a weight on my legs.

I leaned my head up to look down, and saw Clara sitting on the chair, her head resting on my knee as she slept. No doubt after completing the procedure, the exhaustion finally caught up with her. With a sigh, I pushed myself up slowly, and then over the course of five painful minutes, I moved away without waking her up.

Another task made ten times more awkward by having a gun-arm. I managed to lift her up over my left shoulder, my arm a seat. With my legs still shaky, I only almost dropped her onto the ground or through the garden furniture twice before making it into the house.

Catching my breath in the lobby, I turned us both to see Roxy standing in the kitchen, spoon in hand. It looked like she’d had some more sleep and gotten her own shower and now had an eyebrow raised. I realized this was probably an odd look for the pair of us.

“Not even going to guess,” the super said, gesturing with her eyes. “Take the gremlin up to bed before you drop her.”

Too awkward to ask for assistance, I did just that. The stairs were complicated and almost killed us both, but I survived and made it to Clara’s room. A few cautious steps over to the bed, and I laid her down gently before pulling the covers up to her neck.

“Leaving me fully clothed?” she murmured, eyes closed. “How disappointing.” Her brief smile faded away as she sunk back into a proper sleep.

I rolled my eyes and made my way downstairs. Roxy was now digging through ice cream, and had gotten a new canister out for me.

[It was just surgery. She had been up all night and fell asleep while I was out cold.]

The super nodded and wiggled the spoon at me. “I know. You don’t have to reassure me. The list is one thing, but I actually talk to her about this kinda shit, you know.”

Ignoring the fact that the list might actually be real, I raised my eyebrow.

[She did say she loved me, in a non-romantic way.]

“Of course, dumbass. You stoke her passion for tech and invention. More than just her science project, you care and want the best for her—and you follow through. If she wanted a partner, you’d be perfect for her.”

[I guess I can see why the League assumed she was the one I was dating.]

Roxy shrugged and put her tub and spoon down. “If anything, I’m the lucky one because I get to have you, and Clara’s needs are met as well.” She stepped over to me and put her arms around my waist.

[She is really content enough like this?]

Her burning eyes looked into mine. She still looked tired, and I assumed I probably did, too. “She said there might be some benefit to you two boning to bring your symbiosis closer during dire times, but it’s not on her agenda at present.”

[Oh. I see.]

“Also, you’re lucky, because if it was anyone but Clara sniffing around, I’d break their heads clean off.” Roxy leaned forward and kissed my re-breather. “And speaking of getting lucky, someone deserves a bubble bath. Then if you help me put clean bedding on, we’ll get it dirty again.”

[You had me at bubbles.]

“Dumbass.” She smiled and pulled me in for a hug. “We have a lot of celebrating to do. I’m inviting the gang over later this afternoon for food and booze. You got us the rest of the week off, so they’ve got some ass kissing to do.”

[Natural Disasters.]

Maybe a little too on the nose, but sometimes being overt with it was for the best. Another kiss on my temple, and Roxy led me up to the bathroom.

----------------------------------------

A light breeze ran through the garden as the pair of us moved back and forth on the garden swing. The super was nursing the first cocktail of the day, while we enjoyed the peace of being alone. Both still tired, but the bath had done us good.

So far, the surgery didn’t seem to have any effect. I felt no different. If it wasn’t for the stitched line down my chest, I might have assumed Clara didn’t do anything at all.

“How does it feel being a hero now?”

I turned my eyes to Roxy, radiant as ever.

[It's clearly a hit with women, and I haven’t had to lift a finger yet.]

She rolled her eyes.

[There’s an odd feeling to it. As if… there is a catch we aren’t seeing yet. Despite sending the signed contracts off, it doesn’t feel like an end of a chapter.]

“It’s the start of one, though, huh? You’ve gotten everything you wanted.”

Looking at her, it was hard to argue that point. Everything I had wished for, and then strived toward, planned for… I had gotten it. I put my arm around her and she rested her head against my shoulder. It would be a mistake to assume that today’s win would be without the pendulum swinging back to something dire soon enough, but we’d enjoy it while we could.

We looked over to the side, surprised to see the techie emerge from the house so soon. It didn’t look like she had changed, but had added a baseball cap which she wore tipped low to shield her eyes, shadowing most of her face.

She stood near the swing, hands in her pockets. “How are you feeling, Gunquake?”

[As normal as can be, despite the circumstances.]

“Good, good.” She nodded. “About what I said earlier…”

[It’s fine, I forgot everything due to the anesthesia.]

She continued nodding, but a smile emerged from her shadowed face. “Shame. Thanks for bedding me, Gunquake. I’m going to go get a drink.”

We watched as she turned and took herself back into the house.

Roxy sighed and shook her head. “I’m not even sure for whose benefit the flirting is for anymore. Would have been nice to tell you if whatever she did worked or not.”

[I have no doubt that it did. We’ll probably need Belle to test, however.]

“The others will be here in an hour. Could I twist your arm into making us food?” She pressed her nose against my neck, running it up behind my ear.

[It would be a pleasure. I’ll need to go grocery shopping sometime to pick up the right things to cook you something special.]

She kissed the side of my head before stopping the swing and standing up. “When we’re public, we can do a lot more than that. I’m saving my date night ticket for when we can really go out together.” Roxy raised an eyebrow toward the house. “Can’t believe the gremlin wasted her designated time with you performing surgery. She really is a dork.”

I stood up and joined her in making our way to the kitchen. The wounds across her face and arms had already healed up—to the point at which they were only noticeable in certain lighting. Quicker regeneration than she was used to, we both knew. My aura putting in the work even if I didn’t realize it. Her ego had recovered as well, and while we hadn’t discussed or processed our fights from last night, her normal attitude had returned.

Clara was already slumped over on the counter, a cup full of some clear spirits in her hand.

“You can go back to bed, hun,” Roxy said. “I’d rather you not be a miserable drunk for our celebrations.” She stepped over and pulled the hat from the techie’s head.

For eyes that couldn’t cry, they were the saddest looking orbs of green and gray I’d ever seen.

“I just wish they could see me now,” she managed, before falling into Roxy’s hug.

Part of me wanted to tell her that her family would be proud of her, but it wasn’t really my place. They would be, of course—she had become not only a proficient technician, branching out to even things outside the scope the League would usually allow. Now she was also a sidekick to a superhero.

Roxy talked her into having a bath, and they’d pick a nice outfit out together for the garden party. As they walked past, I couldn’t help but feel like an imposter.

Ridiculous, at this stage. I’d earned my place as their friend and found family—I knew this. There was just a gap there that I couldn’t fill. Her parents were never coming back, and that was a wound that would live within her. Something I couldn’t heal or really relate to. They were all I had.

I sighed and walked over to the fridge. If anything, it just made me angrier at the circumstances that led to her parents dying. The League was partially to blame; I was sure. The villain Red Dust destroying some of the suburbs in his fight against Angel would have been partly allowed by them, even if not outwardly arranged.

Maybe there was some irony or hypocrisy in wanting vengeance over these two people I had never met, yet I had slain through plenty of people who, no doubt, had families of their own. I was… no hero.

I didn’t realize I had just been staring into the fridge until Roxy came back into the room.

“Bless her,” she said. “Being a sidekick really means a lot to her. She’s over the moon, but sometimes heartache doesn’t care about that.” The super lifted up the cup and sniffed the liquid within. “Also, this is just water. Dork.”

After I didn’t respond, she stepped over and put her hands on my shoulders, giving me a brief massage. “Alright, big guy. Open up.”

[Am I a fraud?]

She pressed her head against my back, and I felt the warmth of her sigh through my t-shirt. “Not you as well. A fraud about what, Dubs?”

I turned from the cold illumination of all the food awaiting selection, and looked her in the tired but concerned eyes.

[They said it themselves. Heroes don’t kill. Most of my life has been murder.]

“Motherfucker,” she said, pulling me closer. “You’ve watched me pull people literally apart. Am I not a hero?”

[No, you are.]

“Then shut it. Don’t let the fancy title blind you, Dubs.” She placed a finger on my re-breather as if she was shushing me. “You know what you are. What we are. Our real goals. Nod if you understand.”

[Are you… hitting on me again?]

She smiled and rolled her eyes. “C’mon, Dubs. They said your crimes are all wiped clean, so that means you have to do new ones. We’ll be superheroes, and we’ll be a kill-squad, but we truly only work for ourselves, right?”

[To eventually break free of all this, do away with the League from having a say over us.]

“There we go. That’s my cybernetic beefcake.” Roxy shot me a wink. “Now, what are you going to feed the rest of your squadmates?”

I had to admit she had a way with words. As much as she had awkwardly become part of my life, she had learned which buttons to press. Usually, whatever ones encouraged me to be a tool of destruction. In some ways, were the same in that regard. The League of Heroes had just restrained her behind some break in case of emergency glass. Now that I had set her free with my recklessness, we had become quite the dangerous duo.

Any intention of telling her what I planned to cook didn’t even make it out of my vocalizer, as we turned to the sound from upstairs.

The light padding of wet feet rushed down the stairs, as Clara practically slid into the kitchen doorway. Towel barely wrapped around her and still dripping from the partially complete bath, she looked wide awake now.

“What the fuck, Clara?” Roxy asked. “You okay?”

“Gunquake,” she gasped. “The drive has completed the decryption process.”