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Interlude Thirty: Paul Drake

Paul Drake hummed to himself as he brewed the tea.

He’d told Andrew to sleep in today. Anne was at school - she’d protested, of course, but supervillain battles couldn’t be allowed to get in the way of her education.

Plus, not going to school the day after the Belessar-Agni conflict would be a major red flag.

He stepped out onto the porch. The lawn needed mowing - he could do that. With a normal lawnmower, assuming Andrew hadn’t cannibalized the parts for another futuristic device of some sort.

The boy needed to get his armory out of the basement.

He sipped at his tea, reflecting on the young man who’d walked into their lives. Smart, superpowered, and dedicated. Almost an ideal son.

Hilary had wanted a second child, a long time ago. They’d talked about it. Planned for a little brother for Anne.

Then the attack happened.

Since then, he’d put his all into raising the daughter they had.

“You’d have been proud, Hilary,” he whispered.

The midday breeze rippled through his hair. He took in the sounds of the neighbourhood. Leaves rustling. Birds chirping. The creak of the gate.

He looked up. A young Asian woman stood at the gate, looking back at him.

“Can I help you?”

She smiled. “Perhaps. I wonder if you could tell me who lives here?”

“I do. Paul Drake. Do I know you?”

“Maybe. May I come in?”

“Sure. But a name wouldn’t go amiss.”

“Call me Nina.”

“Well, Nina, welcome to my home.” Paul led the way to the drawing room and gestured for her to sit. “Can I get you anything?”

“I wonder if this is saama or daana.”

“Excuse me?”

A shadow passed across Nina’s eyes. “Do you speak Sanskrit?”

“I know a few words. My late wife spoke it better. Did you know Hilary?”

“I’m afraid not. You’re a widower?”

“Yes. So, if I may ask again, Miss Nina - how can I help you?”

“You can drop the act.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I know who you are.”

Paul furrowed his brows. “So does everyone on the street. Paul Drake, former construction worker and former treasurer - oh, you’re here about the CWA.”

“What?”

“Construction Workers’ Association? I’m guessing you’re here about the dues or benefits. I’m no longer the treasurer so I can’t help directly – were you a member?”

“I’ve never heard of the Construction Workers Association.”

“Oh.” Paul scratched his head. “Well, if you’re not here about Hilary or the CWA, then what are you here for?”

An expression of bewilderment passed over her face. “You’re not him, are you? He’s not that good an actor. Where is he?”

“Where is who?”

“Don’t lie to me.” She held out her hand.

A tiny spark of flame flickered to life amidst her palm.

Paul sipped his tea. “I see.”

“I know you’re protecting Belessar,” the woman said. “Tell me where he is.”

A teacup, Paul thought, could be a very effective tool. So he kept sipping.

A crash sounded above.

Agni whirled.

Andrew stood on the stairs, in pyjamas. In one hand was a jet black javelin, and in the other - Paul hadn’t quite seen a knife like that one, but he had no doubt it was deadly.

Agni looked flummoxed. “You?”

“Back off,” Andrew growled.

“You’re a kid!”

“Ahem,” Paul interrupted. “Andrew, I believe you have a visitor. Miss Agni? Can I call you Agni?”

The ultra stared at him. “What?”

“If you’re going to call on my son, at least give him time to get dressed. In the meantime, can I offer you a cup of tea?”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Nina - Agni - stared back at him. “Sure. Why not.”

“Excellent. Andrew, clothes please. Miss Agni - black or cream? Sugar?”

“Two sugars, please.”

“Paul….” Andrew’s voice carried a cautious undertone.

“Upstairs, young man, and you call me Dad as long as you’re under this roof.”

“Uh…”

“Go on, boy. Don’t make a lady stand around gawking at your underwear. Did we teach you nothing?”

“Dad. She’s…”

“Agni, I know. And a visitor in our house. Atithi devo bhava, as Hilary would have said.”

“You do speak Sanskrit,” commented Agni.

“I picked up a few words here and there. My mother-in-law was the real scholar, actually.” Paul walked over to the kitchen. “I’ll make two cups.”

“Won’t Andrew drink with us?” asked Agni curiously.

“He still prefers chocolate milk.”

A snort.

He glanced towards the drawing room. The supervillainess was chuckling to herself, and Andrew …. Andrew was blushing.

Good. She laughs, we live.

“Get dressed, Andrew,” he called.

The sound of feet padding upstairs was a relief.

Agni wandered into the kitchen. “Sorry, Mr. Drake.”

“No apologies necessary. I’m rather flattered, you know.”

“Flattered?”

“Evidently you thought this old man was athletic enough to dance around Brahampton Stadium for half a day.”

Agni chuckled. “Well, Mr. Drake, you’re not that old.”

“I’m hurt. I thought well-bred Indian kids were supposed to respect their aunties and uncles.”

“You definitely had Indians in the family.”

“My late wife’s mother was called Sangeeta.”

“Ah. Was she from India?”

“No, she was from California. Her father, though, was Indian.”

“What was his name?”

“We actually don’t know. Sangeeta spent a lot of time trying to find her father - Hilary’s grandfather. It seems he lived in the States for a few years but left for India before she was born, and never returned. Tea’s ready.”

Agni watched him pour. “I like my tea really hot.”

“I’m afraid this poor grill only goes up to a certain temperature. You’re welcome to heat yours a bit further, but I suggest you give these leaves a try. They’re Makaibari.”

The woman’s eyes went up. “Genuine Makaibari? I haven’t had those in years.”

“The flavour is just as good as it’s ever been.” He handed her a cup. “Shall we head back to the drawing room?”

Andrew came downstairs in nanofibre weave armor.

Paul raised an eyebrow. “A bit overdressed today?”

“Dad…”

“Let’s put the weapons aside, shall we? This isn’t Game of Thrones.”

Agni watched the interplay, clearly fascinated.

“So. Nina, or Agni?” Paul asked.

“I think we can dispense with the pretenses. I’m Agni. He’s Belessar. And you’re … Nanocloud?”

Paul chuckled. “Nanocloud is someone else, I’m afraid. I’m just plain old Paul Drake.”

“I see.”

“So, Agni, what brings you to our home?”

The young woman put down her tea. “I have been …. misled…. before, in certain matters. I wished to ensure that I was not being misled again.”

“And how were you misled, if I may ask?”

“It was suggested to me that Belessar was taking advantage of some of the women he rescued. Women who were not yet of the age of consent.” Agni’s gaze flickered towards Andrew. “How old are you?”

“Andrew turned eighteen in December. And now he has to deal with being wrongly accused of … child molestation, was it?” Paul stared into Agni’s eyes. “Perhaps you can explain why you levelled such an accusation at my son.”

The supervillain flinched. “I was misinformed.”

“A proper investigation should have preceded the accusation.”

“I didn’t accuse him publicly.”

“You didn’t accuse him, you just tried to kill him. For a crime he did not commit, based on allegations from those who have every reason to want him stopped.”

“Your son has mind control powers.”

“My son has mind injury powers, not mind control. He can’t change the way you think, he can only give you the equivalent of a stroke. I’d rate it as one of his lesser powers.”

“Lesser, eh?”

“He carries around laser weapons as a habit, after all.”

“He can certainly control minds. I had to use a mindshield to protect myself.”

“Again, he has never mind-controlled anyone. Not even the aliens he’s fought - and his ability is most useful against them, not against humans. Mindstrike - which is what we call it - breaks a target’s concentration and gives them a tiny cerebral stroke.”

Agni shook her head. “Any ability that influences a person’s thinking can be used to take away their free will.”

“I’d point out that if Andrew wanted to force someone to do something, he doesn’t need mind control. He has heavy lasers.”

“Not for sex.”

Paul rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t normally say this in front of my children, madam, but you miss a fundamental point.”

“What’s that?”

“Andrew’s just turned eighteen. He lives with his father. Where exactly would he bring a girl back home?”

A look of bewilderment passed over Agni’s face. “Are you serious?”

“He still drinks chocolate milk. He’s home every night. He definitely doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

“... Dad,” Andrew interrupted, “I’m not sure we want to make that assertion….”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“... no.”

“And why not?”

“Where is there time?”

“That girl Gemma fancied you.”

“Gemma Kincaid? How did you know about her…”

“Anne told me.”

“I really didn’t have time for Gemma. Or anyone. We’ve got our hands full here, I still have to figure out the London thing…” Andrew trailed off.

Agni was watching, fascinated. “You’re right,” she said. “He definitely doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

“And how do you know that?” snapped Andrew.

“I’m old enough to know what a virgin looks like.” Agni had a pitying grin. “So… you’re the great Belessar. A teenager who’s still in school.”

“I graduated in December…”

“I think we’ve established Andrew’s not the type to take advantage of vulnerable people,” Paul added. “Unless there are some other questions you’d like to ask.”

“I’m good. I’ll leave you be.”

“Not so fast.”

“Oh?” The supervillainess had a dangerous note in her tone.

“There is the matter of restitution.”

“Restitution?”

“You tried to kill my son.” Paul lifted a finger. “Three times.” Two fingers. “With no warning. For no crime of his own. Because you didn’t do your research.” Five fingers.

“I’ve already apologized.”

“An apology is what you give when you break a window. Attempted murder requires a bit more.”

“And what exactly are you proposing?”

“You tried to kill him three times. Save his life three times, and you’ll be even.”

Silence prevailed.

Finally, Agni cocked her head. “Are you a professional negotiator, by any chance?”

“I was treasurer of the Construction Workers’ Association. I did mention that.”

“A union leader. Fine. Your terms are acceptable.”

“Excellent. Care for some more tea? I can make you another cup of Makaibari.”

“Thank you, but no. I must be going now.”

“After one last thing. In our family, a deal is concluded with sweets. Andrew - get the gulab jamuns from the fridge.”

“You have gulab jamun - sure, why not.”

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

As Agni walked out of the gate, Andrew turned to him.

“That was… amazing.”

“You learn a few lessons in construction,” replied Paul. “One of them is negotiation. Come on, let’s go inside.”

“What was with the chocolate milk, though? You know I drink tea.”

“It helped her to think of you as a kid, didn’t it? And I was guessing she doesn’t kill children.”

“She didn’t see me as a child,” muttered Andrew.

Paul raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Observe throw up some interesting data, did it?”

“Not interesting, just… embarrassing.”

“Do tell.”

Andrew blushed. “When I came downstairs, I got a notification.”

“And what did this notification say?”

“Test of Attractiveness passed.”

Do not laugh at the boy, do not laugh at the boy, do not laugh at the boy…. “Anything else?”

“Yeah. Agni finds you too cute to kill.”

“Let’s take our blessings where we find them, then. Do ensure that you treat her with proper respect?”

“Got it.”

“And Andrew? I think you can keep calling me Dad from now on.”