Nigh Invulnerable Pt. 03

Author's note:

See part 1 for blurb. Also, if you haven't already read parts 1-2, I strongly recommend doing so before proceeding.

All sensuality (on page or otherwise) takes place between characters who are eighteen or older.

***

Copyright © 2023 Jake Lazarus

All rights reserved.

This book, or any portion thereof, may not be reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of the author (except for the use of brief quotations in a review).

This is a work of fiction.

Names, characters, businesses, products, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

***

Nineteen

"This is almost certainly one of the worst ideas I've ever had," Felix grumbled to no one in particular as he made his way slowly toward New Jersey. His plan had seemed so simple, so straightforward, when he had laid it all out to Quinn days before. He just had to hop overboard in the early morning gloom while their cruise ship was still a few dozen kilometers offshore and swim to New Jersey. The strain had not concerned him, nor particularly had his relative inability to swim. He would take a float and just kick until he touched American soil. No customs; no border patrol; no fuss. Once ashore, he could hire a ride to take him to Quinn's apartment where he could collect his luggage.

The one thing that he forgot to factor in was the fact that, even with his enhanced body (which inoculated him from things which would prevent normal humans from accomplishing his mission like hypothermia, fatigue, hunger, thirst, poisoning from long exposure to the polluted river), he still had to deal with the catastrophic boredom of doing nothing but swimming for over eight hours. He had plenty of time to try to think of an analog to his situation. He was utterly alone with no humans in sight. Marathon runners and cyclists were obviously out, since they typically had dozens of fellow competitors clustered around them. Even solo hikers or climbers tended to be surrounded by beautiful scenery. He had nothing but the slowly brightening overcast sky for company.

Felix's only consolation was that he could spend the time reliving his remarkable evening with Quinn. He had made the observation in her presence, much to her disbelief, but he knew without question that he had never had a better friend. The fact that the evening they had shared before he had jumped ship in the dead of the night comfortably eclipsed any intimate experience that he could remember only heightened the connection he felt with her.

His biggest concern was not his growing feelings for her, it was the stark changes he had seen from her over their admittedly brief time together. In the course of two weeks, she had gone from frosty, to begrudgingly helpful, to enthusiastically supportive, to awkwardly pensive, to effusively friendly, to lustily companionable. The whipsawing was something he was ill prepared to deal with, especially considering he had never had a relationship that lasted beyond a few months. Ironically, he felt as though she was in a similar situation even though she had just gotten out of a two-year relationship. Neither of them had ever had a relationship progress to the stage of true partnership, to say nothing of something so loftily esoteric as love.

Felix gradually became aware of the light around him and realized that he had missed the first fringes of dawn and jumped straight to sunrise behind the oppressive cloud cover. He paused in his endless swimming to glance around him and realized that, not only could he finally see the distant shore, it was no longer even remotely far removed. He could in fact clearly make out a handful of people out for a morning stroll. He paused to consider exactly where he should come to shore, recognizing that his entire plan would be for naught if some enterprising citizen was moved to pick up the phone and contact the authorities about the hulking man who mysteriously emerged from the early morning surf. He aimed south and resolved to wait a few hundred meters offshore until he spotted an opening.

An hour later, Felix climbed wearily from the modest surf and hurried toward the deserted lifeguard stand to dispose of the evidence of his illegal landing. He managed to tear the heavy-duty cover from the life ring and shred it, allowing him to distribute the pieces amongst a half-dozen trash cans. He then sought out a public restroom and changed into an outfit he had carried in a plastic pouch which had also held his phone and money. He disposed of the shorts he had worn for his swim and left the comfort station feeling nearly human except for the dim awareness that he had burned somewhere north of ten thousand calories since he had last eaten.

He sought out a restaurant and exchanged a paltry amount of money for what was, according to the helpful menu posted behind the cashier, a week's worth of calories in his prior life. He only managed to eat half of what he had purchased, the quality of the food turning his stomach almost immediately. He ultimately took what remained with him when he departed and passed it over to a panhandler on the street corner in exchange for directions to the bus terminal.

***

Felix took his time making his way to Quinn's apartment, being sensitive to how it might look for him to be loitering nearby while he awaited her arrival. He instead proceeded with haste to her adopted hometown of Wilmington in the neighboring state of Delaware so that he could spend a few hours looking for accommodations. He still had a significant amount of the prize money remaining, even after the week-long cruise across the north Atlantic, but he knew that continuing to live in hotels would exhaust his nest egg uncomfortably quickly. He spent a few hours riding on various buses, making notes on his phone of properties which looked promising. His target was something decidedly lower than middle class, since he needed to find a landlord who was willing to rent on a cash-only basis and would not take issue with his lack of identification.

He finally knocked on Quinn's door after seven that evening with several sacks of groceries held easily in one hand. It took her several moments to answer the door, which he would have dismissed without a second thought were it not for the nervous expression on her face. It was as though she had reverted to her mindset from before she had undertaken to teach him baseball in the eighteen hours since they had parted.

Felix's subconscious pointed out that she had just endured a full day of travel, not to mention that it was likely she had been in contact with her ex-boyfriend since landing. He smiled warmly at her and held up the bags he carried as he said, "I figured you wouldn't have had time to shop, so I brought a couple of days' worth of food."

Her smile managed to break through the worry still written plainly on her face and she said, "Thank you. That was very thoughtful. Please, come in."

"Of course," he replied easily as he stepped into the sparsely furnished apartment.

He took a moment to look around what was, to his 2261 mind, an enormous living space. Especially for a single person. There were two bedrooms, the smaller of which had obviously been repurposed as an office, along with a large kitchen and an absolutely enormous living room which was at least thirty square meters. Seated on a large carpeted structure which vaguely resembled a medieval castle was the largest presumably domestic cat Felix had ever seen. He walked over and examined it closely, although the imposing creature could apparently not be bothered to allow Felix's presence to dissuade him from cleaning his undercarriage.

His examination was interrupted when Quinn said, "What had you planned on making with all this?" from her spot in the kitchen where she was unloading the groceries.

He headed in her direction, pausing at the kitchen's entryway before he shrugged and said, "I'm not sure. The food I ate before enlisting was all prepackaged. You have literally never met anyone worse at cooking than me. I just tried to get some... how do you say... staples."

She sorted through the pile briefly before snickering and saying, "In a way, you could call this a master-class-level psychology experiment."

"How do you mean?"

"You've got nothing but meat and vegetables."

He quirked an eyebrow at her and said, "You're suggesting I missed something? I considered getting some bread, but you said during the cruise you were trying to cut back."

"That's true... and I swear I'm not trying to make fun of you... but in the future, you should consider things like spices, fat and maybe some of the healthier grains like rice." He opened his mouth to offer to return to the store, but she cut him off with a look and said, "It's fine. I've got all that here. Why don't we see what we can put together." He started to take a seat, but she added, "Get over here. You've got to learn something about cooking, or you'll end up poisoning yourself the first time you try it on your own."

***

"What the shit!" Felix exclaimed. "Three errors on one play!"

"Welcome to minor league baseball," Quinn interjected with a chuckle. "Speaking of which, these games are pretty popular for families. So maybe watch the language?"

"Sorry," he whispered fiercely before turning in the direction of a family comprised of three children and a middle-aged male and repeating his apology.

After an enjoyable cooking lesson and meal, Quinn had suggested they catch a game for the local team. It had been a confusing first few innings for Felix, the entirety of whose previous exposure to baseball had been the highest-level professionals. It had genuinely not occurred to him until he watched a lanky seventeen-year-old launch his bat into right field swinging at a pitch in the dirt that the sport was even remotely challenging.

"You know," Quinn spoke up after the end of the inning, "this kind of game isn't really about the game. It's more about the experience of being at the ballpark. You know... have a beer and a dog and just relax for a few hours."

"That makes sense. Almost like it's a pastime as opposed to something you're meant to have a panic attack about."

"Exactly," she agreed excitedly.

They sat in silence through another inning filled with laughable play and preposterous antics by those whose job it was to provide stadium entertainment. But as the silence stretched between them, he could not help the sense he was getting that he was missing something critical. Things came to a head an inning later when the visiting team exploded for six runs, pushing the lead to double digits, and many in the crowd started to pack up.

Felix became aware of something amiss, a feeling not unlike a sensation he had experienced a lifetime ago on a star dozens of light-years from earth where he had, in the midst of running across a seemingly deserted street in a decidedly alien city, ducked suddenly without knowing why just before an energy beam sliced through the air above him. He had managed to eliminate the sniper before the creature had gotten off a second shot without ever knowing why he had evaded in the first place. This time, however, it was not a three-limbed alien which gave him pause, it was the beautiful yet self-doubting woman at his side. A not insignificant amount of trepidation washed over him as he turned to face her. This sense of unease only worsened when he spotted her worried expression.

"What's wrong?" he asked before looking around anxiously.

She was silent for several moments before finally saying, "Nothing."

He sighed and said, "I realize I've only known you a few weeks, but we passed the point where I'd buy that weak of an evasion before we even got to the bar on the first day we spent together."

She grinned crookedly at him and said, "I suppose so." She was quiet for a few long moments before adding, "I spoke to my boyfriend today."

"Ex-boyfriend," Felix interjected before worriedly adding, "Unless you took him back."

"No. Nothing like that. It's just that I realized he and I dated for over two years." She shook her head dejectedly and repeated, "Two years. That's a long time to be with someone and have it not work out. Especially at my age."

"You're younger than I am," he said gently. "And you look incredible today, Quinn. It's almost as if you're glowing. Save for the sour expression."

"I know. And I'm sorry about that."

"You have nothing to apologize for."

"Would you stop interrupting?" she snapped.

"Sorry," he replied reflexively before smiling self-consciously and miming zipping his lips closed.

"You're a really fantastic guy Felix. And I really like spending time with you. And last night was incredible. Please never think it was anything other than the greatest night of my life."

"But?" he interrupted again, albeit cautiously.

"Like I said," she answered with a shrug. "I just got out of a two-year relationship. Two years where I was never sure if we were headed toward the alter, or just wasting our time. And it took him trying to bully and belittle me, in public, over something as inconsequential as going to a nude beach for me to realize it was the latter. How could I have been so blind?"

"It was as you said before, sometimes it isn't about what we want. It's about what we allow ourselves to believe we're meant to have, regardless of whether or not we're happy. But you are allowed to be happy, Quinn. And, what's more, you deserve to be happy."

She smiled shyly and said, "Thank you. But so do you. And I can't ask you to wait around until I figure out what I want."

He shrugged and said, "I don't mind in the least. Even at your most inconsistent, you're the best friend I've ever had."

"Same here," she replied softly. "We're two peas in a pod, aren't we?" He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. She accepted his affection and snuggled close to him before murmuring, "I mean it Felix. I've got a lot of shit to figure out."

"And I'll be there for you every step of the way."

"I know you will. Just as I'll always be there for you. But, as your friend, I can't ask you to forsake all others. You're an amazing guy, not to mention being a fucking Greek god. It would be an affront to nature to keep that monster in your pants on the bench while I sort out my shit."

"You're suggesting an open relationship?"

She sighed before saying, "I'm suggesting no relationship, beyond the best of friends. Oh, I might experience a moment of weakness here and there. And, if you happen to be between stunningly beautiful women at the time, I might ask you to take pity on your old pal Quinn and fuck me six ways from Sunday on a random Tuesday night. But you could absolutely tell me to forget it and it wouldn't impact our friendship in the slightest."

"I'd never turn you down."

"I know," she grumped. "And I appreciate that. Plus, not that it's even remotely analogous, but the same thing goes in the opposite direction. Just please don't shut yourself off from any other... opportunities... just because you're waiting for me to come around. Maybe we'll give dating a try someday, but in the meantime, I look forward, as your friend, to hearing about the O-faces of Wilmington's most beautiful bachelorettes."

"You're ridiculous," he retorted dismissively.

She fixed him with a steady glare and said, "I'm also serious. On top of the aforementioned craziness, I checked my email on the way home and I'm in for an absolute clusterfuck at work for at least the next few weeks. Get out there and experience a bit of modern American life. Stick that magnificent cock in a couple, or a couple dozen, beautiful chicks. Just wrap it up or you'll find out the hard way just how horrible our medical care is in this country." He shook his head wearily, prompting her to add, "Promise me, Felix."

"But," he started.

"We're not leaving here until you agree with me," she said firmly. "I'm not ready to be someone's girlfriend again so soon, or even someone's friend with benefits. I'm not even sure how good of friend I'll be. Just promise me you won't make me feel even more guilty by secretly refusing this profoundly reasonable request."

He studied her intently for any sign of self-sacrifice. It would have hardly surprised him considering all he had learned about her. She was, more than anything else, a person who would sacrifice anything to avoid being a burden. However, the more he stared at her soulful eyes, the more he realized that, while there was likely an element of that maddening selflessness in her words, her primary motivation was something deeper. He very much wanted a relationship with her, but he could no more attempt to force that on her than he could return to the future from whence he came.

At length, he dropped his head in defeat and said, "Fine. But we're still watching games every Sunday night, even if I have to kick your door in."

She grinned brightly and said, "Deal."

Twenty

"I don't understand what the problem is," Felix groaned in frustration.

"The fuckin' thing don't fit, is da problem," the surly delivery driver snapped. "This here couch is damn near ten feet long."

"How long is a foot?" Felix asked in confusion.

"Where you from?" the driver asked suspiciously.

"Eastern Europe," Felix replied in the manner Quinn had suggested.

"Whatever. Point is, it won't fit in the elevator."

"What about the stairs?"

"You expect us to carry that fuckin' thing up five flights of stairs?"

"I expect you to deliver it... as I paid for."

The driver indicated where the couch sat on the tile of the building's tiny lobby and said, "It's been delivered. Union rules say we don't have to do more than five stairs."

"You're joking," Felix complained.

"Nope," he replied, popping the 'p'. "You want we should load it back on the truck or leave it here."

Felix groaned in frustration before looking around helplessly at the stairs. He hurried over and peered through the window in the external door which led to the stairwell before returning and lifting the end of the couch to test the weight. He then carefully moved to the couch's center-point and hefted it onto his shoulder.

"Jesus," the driver breathed as Felix headed toward the stairs.

For his part, Felix ignored the troublesome driver and began the laborious process of climbing forty-five stairs carrying a couch that weighed in excess of forty kilograms. His progress was brought to a halt when he reached the top of the first flight of stairs and realized the couch would not make the cramped turn to the next flight. He tried several different methods of making the turn, including attempting to stand the couch on its end, but it was to no avail. Eventually, he rested the troublesome piece of furniture against the railing to investigate other possibilities.

At length, he carried the couch back down the stairs to the lobby and plopped down on it to ponder. As he sat, he noticed a utility closet and hopped up to peek inside. He initially saw little of value, but then his gaze fell upon a coil of heavy-duty rope. He snatched it from the shelf and uncoiled it to discover that it was at least thirty meters long. He re-coiled it and looped it over his arm before he hefted the couch again and took it outside to lower it down next to the base of the stairs. He then jogged up the stairs to the top level and tied the end of the rope from the railing before dropping the remainder over the side. Another trip down the stairs allowed him to tie the end of the rope around one end of the couch before he once again made the climb. Upon reaching the top, he untied his trusty rope and began hauling the couch up the side of the building as he leaned awkwardly over the railing. There was a touchy moment as the couch reached the top, but Felix managed to transition from pulling the rope to dragging the couch and hauled it safely over the railing. From there, it was reasonably straightforward to carry the couch down the hall and into his tiny apartment.

He looked around the space and was reminded of what he had called home in his past. And, he realized with a grin, also the future. It had been called a studio in the advertisement, although Felix could spot no signs of recording equipment. It had allowed him to go forward with the strategy of purchasing just three pieces of furniture: a bed, a coffee table and a couch. The haul, which he had found at a second-hand store Quinn recommended, had cost him less than the delivery fee. The bed held a mattress purchased on the internet which was noisily inflating after being extracted from a suspiciously small box. All told, he had only used fifteen hundred dollars to furnish the apartment, plus another five grand for the three months' rent his landlord had demanded when he informed her that he had lost his identification.

It did not take long sitting on his new couch to feel the first hints of boredom creeping in, not surprising considering he had, quite literally, nothing to do. He stood quickly and stalked into the kitchen, even though he knew he would find nothing to eat since he had yet to go shopping. As he stood staring into the empty pantry, he realized it had been four days since he had last eaten. And, while the meal Quinn had prepared from the groceries that he had purchased had been both delicious and filling, it was also uncomfortably far in the past. Without a second thought, Felix scooped up his effects and left the apartment.

He was still studying his phone to determine the optimal heading to travel to the closest grocery store when the lift arrived at the bottom floor. He started to step out but was interrupted by a warm contralto voice which seemed to come from everywhere at once.

"Well... if it isn't 5-C."

Felix looked up to find his landlord leaning against the still open door to the utility closet. His face fell and he said, "I'm so sorry I borrowed the rope without asking. I'll go back up and get it right now."

She dismissed his anxiety with a wave and said, "Don't worry about it. I can always get more rope."

He shook his head and said, "No. I swear I'll return it. In fact, it might have become damaged while I was using it. I'll get more while I'm out."

"I said to forget it."

"Then... why are you waiting for me?"

She quirked an eyebrow at him and said, "What makes you think I was waiting for you?"

"Um... you were standing in the closet I thoughtlessly left open, and you identified my unit number when I emerged from the lift?"

"Perhaps I'm just being friendly," she offered playfully.

"I see," he answered after a pregnant pause. He then glanced toward the door before adding, "In any case... I need to do some shopping."

"I meant what I said... Felix, was it?" He nodded, prompting her to add, "Don't worry about the rope. That was left over from a tenant who, shall we say, moved out hastily."

"I see. Well, I still need some groceries so..."

She pushed off the doorway and walked up to him before saying, "Do you mind if I join you? I also need to pick up a few things." He shrugged helplessly, his mind racing with the anxiety that her behavior was in some way related to his lack of papers. She said, "Excellent. My car's this way."

She led him to a luxurious-looking vehicle in the complex's rear parking lot. As they drove toward the store, he took a moment to study her. She was a mature woman, likely in her early forties, with a swarthy complexion and a notably slender frame. Human females all possessed the ability, to a greater or lesser degree, to exude sultriness regardless of their inherent physical attributes. It had escaped his notice on their first meeting when she had distractedly walked him through the apartment, but he now saw that his landlord possessed this ability in spades. Her makeup had been applied with an artist's touch and her outfit perfectly suited her lithe body. Her long black hair was similarly expertly styled. The longer he studied her, the more he felt his loins stirring at the thought of being so close to her.

She pulled him from his reverie by saying, "I have to know how you did it."

"Did what?"

"Pulled that couch up the side of the building like it weighed no more than a dozen kilograms."

"Oh," he replied sheepishly. "You saw that?"

"I did indeed," she replied somberly. "I also saw the deliverymen struggle to get it off the truck, and there were two of them."

"Yeah, I guess so."

After several moments of silence, she said, "You're really not going to tell me how you did it?"

He shrugged helplessly and said, "What do you want me to say? I couldn't think of a better way to get it up."

She grinned triumphantly and said, "I like a man who will stop at nothing to get it up."

He frowned and lapsed into silence for the remainder of the ride, focusing instead on the growing cacophony in his mind caused by the combination of her nearness and her undeniable sex appeal. It was a sensation that he had, mostly, managed to tamp down during the week plus he had spent in Quinn's company. This had been made easier thanks in large part to the fact that they had mostly kept to themselves on the cruise, not to mention that he would sooner offer a Chalawanian a blowjob than make her uncomfortable with an unwelcomed advance. But now that he was several days removed from being in Quinn's presence, their communication having devolved to only texting as she worked fourteen-hour days to make up for her vacation extending an additional week, he was starting to feel that gnawing hunger which had nearly overwhelmed him at Xavier and Jiang's chalet. A hunger which no food could satisfy. And her not-so-subtle innuendos were doing nothing to tamp down his lust.

Without conscious thought, almost as though his loins had effected a bloodless coup of his higher brain functions, he murmured, "And I like a woman who knows what she wants," in a voice an octave below his normal speaking voice.

She turned to face him briefly, a look of primal lust momentarily taking over her features, before turning back to the road and saying, "Good answer. But perhaps we should go shopping first in any case since we're already here."

He nodded and said, "I am at your disposal."

"I'm going to hold you to that."

Their shopping trip was an exercise in patience and teasing. She had set the tone quickly when, as they perused the produce section, she had swiped a cucumber from a display and began stroking it lasciviously.

"Not that I'm particularly obsessed with size," she murmured as she placed the phallically shaped vegetable in his basket. "But if you're much bigger than that, anal will, unfortunately, be off the table. As much as I enjoy a... thorough... experience, I have no wish to spend the next week being constantly reminded of my lack of restraint."

He shrugged and said, "That's up to you."

"Are you being gentlemanly, or are you suggesting you don't have any fantasies related to the holiest of holies?"

"No reason it can't be both," he retorted playfully. "Where I come from, that type of intimacy isn't frequently practiced. Thus, I have no strong feeling one way or the other. In any case, I would have thought that another place on a woman's body would be far more accurately referred to as holy."

"How very feminist of you," she quipped. "You needn't placate me, sir. I have already made my availability, and willingness, perfectly clear."

"I wasn't," he replied simply. "I merely spoke the truth as I see it."

"Indeed?" was her only reply, but her skeptical gaze told him plenty.

By the time they reached the butcher's section, she had rallied somewhat. She slowed and pulled a vacuum-packed pork loin from the case. She studied it intently for several moments before her gaze began hopping between the meat in her hands and the front of Felix's shorts.

She said, "I can't help but notice that you neither confirmed nor denied my earlier query about your size."

He glanced down at the item she held and quirked an eyebrow before saying, "To be fair, you did not actually pose a question. You merely said that you were unwilling to have anal sex due to my size."

Her eyes widened slightly, and she hissed, "You must be joking."

He chuckled and said, "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

She dropped the meat back into the case and said, "I think the groceries can wait... um..."

"Felix," he provided with a smile.

"Isabella," she replied sultrily as she stuck out her hand. No sooner had his hand met hers than she was tugging him in the direction of the parking lot.

Twenty-One

"Do you have any last words?" Isabella asked playfully as they rode the lift up to his apartment.

Felix grinned down at her and said, "Are you suggesting that you're a succubus and I have cause to fear for my soul?"

"No," she chuckled. "But I do look forward to seeing you beg for mercy."

He quirked an eyebrow at her and said, "You remind me of someone I met a few weeks ago on a beach in Denmark. She issued a similar warning."

"And how did that go for her?"

He shrugged and said, "She seemed quite satisfied with my efforts. So much so that she hardly minded the fact that she failed miserably in her stated goal."

She regarded him with a hungry gaze and murmured, "Challenge accepted."

The lift dinged upon reaching his floor and she proceeded him down the hallway as though every word she had spoken over the preceding thirty minutes had been a figment of his imagination. Upon reaching his door, she turned and said snippily, "I don't have all day, Mr. Dvoryanin."

He immediately saw through her ruse intended for any curious onlookers. As he unlocked his door, he whispered, "Nice performance."

"One must keep up appearances."

He grinned and bent down to her ear to murmur, "Do you really think my neighbors will remain convinced you're just here to show me around when you're screaming my name in rapturous bliss in a few minutes?"

He flipped the door closed with a bang. When he pulled back, he saw that her hooded gaze had turned positively feral. She pushed hard against his chest. He relaxed his muscles to allow her to slam him against the wall next to the door. She dropped to her knees without preamble. His shorts soon followed, and a needy moan escaped her lips when his cock, unencumbered by underwear, sprang toward her. She held it reverently in both hands, stroking him slowly as she licked her lips.

She glanced up at him teasingly and said, "You misled me, sir."

"How do you figure?"

"That pork loin was decidedly larger."

He snickered and said, "If I was that big, you wouldn't let me near any part of your anatomy."

"Fair enough," she murmured as she leaned forward and wrapped her lips around his pulsing knob.

He groaned in pleasure as she lewdly coated him with saliva from his balls to his navel, and especially on every throbbing centimeter of his turgid manhood. He reached down to free her hair from the stylish clip which had held it in place, allowing it to flow over her shoulders. She responded by energetically fucking him with her mouth as she tugged gently on his balls.

He gave in to the pleasure she was giving him, thrusting gently to heighten the pleasure she was lavishing on him with her mouth. The room soon filled with loud glucking as she tried, and partially succeeded, in deep throating him. She pulled back and took a deep breath before hurriedly shucking her shirt.

He quirked an eyebrow at her, to which she coquettishly replied, "It would be unbecoming for someone of my stature to have a blouse covered in semen." His eyebrow rose even higher, prompting her to add, "Or saliva."

"I was more wondering why you didn't take off the rest."

"I hold it as a matter of personal pride that I never disrobe before my partner." He responded by yanking the shirt over his head. Neither missed the sound of ripping fabric. She moaned wantonly and whispered, "Oh, my," as she reached back to unclasp her bra. Her small breasts showed no hint of tan lines and featured prominent nipples surrounded by dark areola.

He tugged her to her feet and led her over to the couch. He once again allowed her to manhandle him, pushing him down on the couch before she sank to the ground between his knees to resume pleasuring him with her mouth. He held her hair and watched in awe as she took him deeper than he thought possible. The room was soon filled with the wet sounds of her masterful blowjob.

She pulled off him once again, gasping for air as she rose up to envelope his cock in her modest breasts. She tit-fucked him energetically. The sensation of her body worshipping him paled in comparison to the sight of her lasciviously sticking her tongue out so her pre-cum laden saliva could flow down between her breasts to provide additional lubrication.

He moaned in ecstasy and whispered, "You're incredible."

She smiled wickedly and said, "And I'm not even naked yet."

"That's easily rectified," he grunted as he lifted her easily and spun her around.

He snapped the fabric of her thong encircling her waist easily and tossed aside the ruined garment. She started to complain, but her protest turned into a contented sigh as he buried his face between her toned ass cheeks and tongued her puckered star. She bent at the waist, giving him greater access to pleasure her as she leaned on his coffee table.

"Those were my favorite panties," she stammered.

He made no response other than pushing down on the small of her back and thrusting his tongue into her dripping sex. He continued pleasuring her for several moments but soon felt her hand wrap around his shaft and begin to stroke him.

"I know how you can make it up to me," she murmured as she gripped him tightly.

He rose in a smooth motion, licking along the crack of her ass and up her spine until his engorged manhood stood poised at her entrance. Her grip, which had never wavered despite the spasm of pleasure which had consumed her body in response to his tongue, notched his tip into her opening.

"Please," she begged urgently.

He entered her slowly, cautious of hurting her regardless of how obvious she had made her desire.

"Bog, you feel good," he groaned as he bottomed out with several centimeters still exposed.

He pulled her upper body against his chest and began slowly thrusting into her slick heat. His hands explored her body as she reached over her shoulder to pull him in for their first kiss. Her tongue invaded his mouth hungrily, dueling his own for dominance as their passion heightened with dizzying speed. His fingers found her clit, causing her to break the kiss and moan his name in bliss.

"I told you," he murmured in her ear.

"Bastard," she retorted playfully as she turned to face him, pulling him from her intimate embrace.

He grunted at the loss and bent to scoop her up, his hands beneath her ass. She yelped as he manhandled her, but her moans soon filled the room once more as he maneuvered her gently until he was able to slide back into her velvety channel. He bounced her on his cock rather than thrusting into her, his grip on her well-formed ass never wavering.

"Fuck, that feels good," she hissed.

She gave herself over to him completely, thrashing in his arms as he fucked her. He looked down, watching in wonder as his cock disappeared repeatedly into her hairless pussy. She truly was a beautiful woman. Mature in years; but brimming with a youthful confidence that he found devastatingly alluring.

Their skin was soon dripping with sweat as he nearly dropped her after a particularly energetic swivel of her hips. He dropped onto the couch behind him rather than risk her safety. She quickly took over, riding his cock as she moaned loudly. He leaned forward and pulled one of her nipples between his lips, sucking eagerly.

After several minutes, she whispered, "Are you close?"

He shook his head and replied, "We've barely gotten started."

"How?" she whimpered.

"You think I'm ready for this to end?"

"Well... no..."

"Good," he growled before reaching beneath her thighs and lifting her up to sit on his face.

She yelped at the movement, but quickly sighed in contentment at the feeling of his tongue teasing her clit as she wrapped her legs around his head. She rode his face confidently, gazing down at him adoringly as she ground her sex against his lips. As her pleasure rose, she gradually fell further back until she was laying across his chest and awkwardly trying to get to his cock, which was nestled in her hair. He winked at her playfully and stood without interrupting the pleasure he was giving her.

She shrieked in surprise and said, "What are you doing?"

He made no reply other than carrying her to the bed and laying her down, his tongue never ceasing its relentless efforts on her clit.

"Oh my God," she groaned. "I want you to fuck me."

He slid two fingers into her core, but otherwise ignored her and continued his attention on her clit.

"That..." she hissed. "Fuck! That feels amazing. But you know that isn't what I meant."

He switched one of the fingers from her dripping pussy to her puckered star, slowly plunging it into her ass.

"Yes!" she moaned, followed moments later by saying, "I mean no."

He gazed along her body to find her glaring at him in mock outrage.

"You know what I meant, Felix. Put that incredible cock back inside me. I don't even care where, but I need you in me. Now!"

"As you wish," he whispered as he rose up above her.

She took advantage of his movement to roll over and rise up on all fours. He briefly dipped his head and licked with tantalizing slowness from her clit to her asshole, earning a grunt somehow filled with both praise and protest. He stood once more and gripped her ass affectionately as he impaled her with his manhood.

"Holy shit! That feels fucking incredible."

"You took the words right out of my mouth," he groaned as he sped up his thrusts.

The sound of skin slapping together was soon drowned out by their moans of pleasure. Within moments, the force of their lovemaking pushed Isabella down into the bed. Felix followed her, holding himself just above her sweat-slicked back as he fucked her with mindless abandon. He felt her inner walls begin to squeeze along his shaft, pleading him for his seed as she neared release.

He pulled out, eliciting a whimper of protest from her, before he gently rolled her over and sank back into her depths again. He kissed her briefly before saying, "I want to look in your eyes when you cum for me."

"My God," she stammered just before her release consumed her.

He slowed his thrusting, moving just enough to prolong her pleasure as she silently thrashed beneath him. He dipped his head to suck on one of her tempting nipples as her inner walls rippled along his length. He moved his kisses up her chest and along her neck, arriving at her lips just as her orgasm began to recede.

"It's too much," she hissed when she regained the power of speech.

He pulled out and moved around to lay beside her, his fingertips gently tracing along her nipple as she tried to regain her breath. She gasped at his touch and whispered, "Bastard."

"My apologies," he replied as he withdrew his fingers. "But, in my defense, you do have amazing breasts."

"Speaking of amazing," she murmured as she rolled to face him and got to her knees.

Without preamble she turned and took his glistening cock into her mouth, obviously at least as interested in lapping up her own liquid pleasure as she was in offering him physical gratification.

He tugged her hips toward his mouth, intent on tasting her once more, but she said, "Oh, no you don't," and crawled forward to straddle him.

She lined him up with her entrance and sank back on him with a loud sigh. He reached out and kneaded her ass as she sped up the movement of her hips, content to let her dictate the pace. She slowly moved toward him, like the sun's shadow from a sundial moving across a terrace, transitioning from leaning backward; to bouncing jubilantly on his cock; to laying across his chest and moaning loudly as he thrust into her.

At length, she rolled to the side seeking reprieve. But he rolled with her and continued his thrusts. She spread her legs and reached down to fondle his balls while he groped her bouncing breast.

"Fuck, Felix," she gasped. "How long can you keep this up?"

"As long as is necessary," he hissed.

She looked back at him and said, "Fine. You win."

He stilled his hips and said, "This wasn't meant to be a competition."

"I know," she said warmly. "I just meant that you just comfortably eclipsed every sexual experience I've ever had. You're got the championship belt. Congradu-fucking-lations."

"You're pretty fantastic yourself."

"Thanks," she replied sleepily before adding, "Now, if I swear on all that's sacred and holy that you're the best I have ever had, or will ever have, and assure you that I'll need medical attention if this keeps up much longer, will you please cum for me?"

He smiled and said, "Of course. In fact, if you're uncomfortable, we needn't keep..."

"Oh, no," she reprimanded him. "Not on your life am I going to miss this orgasm." She disengaged and pushed him onto his back before climbing astride him and taking him back into her slick heat. She smiled warmly down at him and added, "Christ, you feel fucking fantastic."

"So do you," he murmured as he began thrusting up into her.

"Cum for me, handsome," she whispered.

He gazed up at her in wonder, noting how much more beautiful she was covered in sweat, with her hair disheveled and makeup in tatters. He gripped her hips and sped up his thrusts, no longer trying to hold his release at bay.

"I want you to cum inside me," she whispered before lathing his ear with her tongue.

As though in response to a subliminal command, his loins exploded and he erupted deep in her womb with a roar which shook the windows. Each thrust of his hips was accompanied by another geyser of his seed into her silken channel, and he could soon feel their combined pleasure flowing along his length and pooling at his groin. She rose up above him, riding him eagerly and milking every drop from him.

With a chattering sigh, Felix sank back on the bed and felt the tension flee his body. He watched in rapt fascination as Isabella slid along his belly toward him to claim his lips hungrily. Their kiss was brief but filled with passion. She then swung her leg over to kneel beside him and began hungrily slurping up their combined release slicked along his groin and belly. Unconsciousness claimed him while she was still busily lapping up her pearlescent treat.

Twenty-Two

"Excuse me?" a soft alto voice called out to a bewildered Felix.

He spun around quickly, his expression not unlike what could be expected from someone who just realized the camera had captured them adjusting themselves while at a sporting event and put it on the jumbotron. His gaze landed upon a curvy woman with frizzy hair and thick glasses who was looking at him suspiciously. He looked around briefly to confirm that she had unquestionably spoken to him as no one else was standing nearby.

"Yes?" he asked haltingly.

"Forgive me for interrupting," she said somewhat softer, "but you looked lost."

He grinned sheepishly and said, "Forgive me. It's just so green."

She glanced around for a moment before shrugging and saying, "I suppose it is. I take it you're not a student?"

"Not as such, but I was hoping to make use of the library."

"It's for students and faculty only."

He frowned before an idea occurred to him and he said, "How about visiting faculty?"

She gave him a thorough once-over, her eyes lingering somewhat on his chest and midsection before rising back to meet his gaze. The inspection caused him to bemoan his inability to dress his new body as it seemed like shirts which fit fine in the dressing room were suddenly near the point of bursting the moment a female gave him more than a passing glance.

At length, she said, "You're a professor?"

"After a fashion," he evaded. "I'm something of a refugee, but I used to teach math and statistics."

"I know this might sound super insensitive, but where are you from? I'm usually pretty good with accents, but I can't place yours."

"From a town you've likely never heard of in the region you call Siberia."

"My goodness," she breathed. "You always hear stories, but I thought they were apocryphal. They really send people there?"

"Yup," he replied, once again stretching the truth nearly to the breaking point. He glanced over his shoulder at the ancient-looking library and added, "I was hoping to do a bit of research in hopes of finding out if I've got any shot at catching on with a university in America."

She looked around furtively before saying, "You're really not supposed to go in, but I suppose I could let you in just this once."

"I genuinely appreciate it..."

"Yasmine," she supplied shyly.

He smiled and said, "Felix," as he extended his hand.

She shook his hand daintily, and a blush spread across her cheeks at his touch. She looked away shyly and led him toward the library, giving him a chance to appreciate her feminine shapeliness. He suspected she selected clothing, a skirt which reached her ankles and an oversized sweater which stood in stark opposition to the warm summer day, in hopes of hiding her curves, but his eyes could not miss the swish of her backside or the way her breasts filled out the voluminous sweater. He had known women before enlisting who dressed as she did, either for religious reasons or because they felt their profession implied the need to downplay their gender. He found himself frowning at her retreating form despite knowing nothing beyond her name, and immediately realized that he was making assumptions. This epiphany did not, however, do anything to diminish the urge he felt to make her smile.

He caught up with her as she reached the door and held it open for her. She regarded him dubiously for a moment before proceeding him through the entryway and past the imposing desk manned by a squad of students and librarians. She led him straight to a section containing what he suspected were textbooks and then turned to watch him suspiciously. Fortunately, he had given some thought to what he would do should he succeed in gaining entry to the building, although his intent in doing so had been based on the possibility that he might have scant few minutes before he was ejected. As he considered his situation, he decided that such an outcome was still far from unlikely. He scanned across the books before snatching one from the shelf which dealt with astronomy and flipped rapidly through the book to the appendix before his face fell in defeat.

"What is it?" Yasmine asked with genuine concern.

"They already solved the three-body problem," Felix groaned in frustration.

"Well... I mean... sort of?" she allowed. "There are still several unknowns in the field. Including, obviously, instances of significantly unequal mass and initial velocity."

"But the CNS strategy is the key to everything," he replied despondently before snapping the book closed and replacing it.

He then dragged his finger along the more traditional mathematical texts before pulling one on applied computational mathematics and quickly flipping to a chapter on prime number theory. It took even less time in this instance for him to realize his failure.

"Fuck," he whispered. "They've already published the treatise on bounded gaps between primes."

"Of course," she agreed in confusion. "That happened over a decade ago."

"Well, that's just great," he hissed as he slammed the book back onto the shelf. Yasmine took a wary step back, prompting Felix to add, "I'm sorry. I know this must seem fairly..."

"Insane?" she asked with a nervous giggle.

"That's as good a word as any."

She glanced in the direction of the door and said, "I think maybe you should..."

He took a step toward her before coming to an embarrassed halt as he spotted the widening of her eyes. He looked at her pleadingly and said, "You're right. I can absolutely understand why my behavior looks so strange. It's just... in my country, information was not so readily available. We were led to believe that the discoveries I mentioned were triumphs which would have humiliated the liberal democracies had they been widely publicized. So... after I escaped, I thought perhaps they would be unknown, and I could find my way into a university's mathematics department in return for sharing what I knew."

"Is the weather in Siberia really as bad as they say?"

He winced internally as he smiled and said, "You would genuinely not believe me if I told you," at the memory of the sweltering Siberian summers of the future.

She returned his friendly expression and said, "I've got to get going or I'll miss my chance to get something to eat."

"Let me buy your lunch then," Felix quickly offered. She looked away shyly as a blush spread across her features. He sensed her anxiety building and hastened to add, "In exchange for taking up so much of your time. Please... I insist."

She refused to meet his gaze, but finally nodded slightly before heading toward the entrance without waiting for him to follow. He sighed wearily and hurried after her, his commitment to finding a way to bring a smile to her lips stronger than ever.

***

"This is where you eat lunch?" Felix asked dismissively upon being brought up short in front of a vending machine.

Yasmine shrugged and said, "What of it? It's quick and it's cheap."

Felix shuddered at the thought of the nauseating pre-packaged meals which he had been forced to live on for the majority of his pre-enlistment life and said, "When's your next class?"

She glanced at the clock on the wall and said, "Ninety-three minutes, but I've got to grade a bunch of quizzes first."

He quirked an eyebrow and said, "What do you teach?"

"Applied mathematics."

"What a fascinating coincidence. Tell you what, if you let me buy you something decent to eat, I'll grade your quizzes for you."

"Why on earth would I agree to that? I don't even know you. Not to mention the fact that you're losing out on both ends of the deal."

"Hardly. I get to make your day marginally better. Plus, I get to spend a few hours with a beautiful woman." She snorted before a look of horror crossed her face and she covered her mouth self-consciously. He grinned and said, "I knew it."

"Knew what?" she asked warily from behind her hand.

"I knew you had a beautiful smile."

She sighed and said, "Did one of my colleagues put you up to this?"

"Put me up to what?"

"Talking to me. Pretending to be nice to me." She paused for a moment before adding, "I'm not falling for the 'convince me to send you nudes so you can email them to all of my students' gag again, if that's what you're after."

His expression darkened and he said, "No! Of course not. Who could do such a thing?"

She looked away and whispered, "Plenty of guys."

"Show me," he growled softly.

She took a step back fearfully and said, "I will not show you the nudes they sent..."

"I meant," he interrupted with quiet intensity, "show me the person, or persons, responsible."

"Why?"

"So that I might convince them of the error of their ways."

"What," she began before her voice faltered. She took a deep breath before continuing, "What would you do?"

"That depends on what amends they're willing to make. But I suspect that the prospect of having their testicles slowly crushed until they burst will prove quite convincing."

"Why would you do that? You'd get thrown in prison forever. You don't even know me."

"Because you helped me," he replied simply. "And because no one, especially not a beautiful woman, deserves to be the subject of that sort of abuse. Insecure men are capable of terrible things and must occasionally be shown that there are worse things in life than feeling insignificant."

"Like being tortured until they apologize?" she offered.

"I would expect far more than an apology," he answered easily. "Their resignation would be required, obviously, as would an affidavit outlining their sins. And if the torture aspect turns your stomach, I could always make it quicker."

"But that's insane," she hissed fiercely. "Why would you, as near as makes no difference, permanently cripple them? And don't give me that crap about quote, unquote, beautiful women. My eyes work just fine, sir. As does my mirror."

He shook his head sadly and said, "I'm more curious about why you were so convinced I was malignant from the outset."

"As I said, I have eyes."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She sighed, glancing around furtively before answering. "You look like a freaking linebacker, Felix. Except not the boys we have on our crappy team. I'm talking about a professional linebacker who makes millions of dollars a year hurting people. Plus, there's obviously the hot and cold running... companionship... on tap twenty-four, seven..."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he huffed.

She glared at him and said, "When's the last time someone turned you down for sex?"

"That's hardly a fair question."

"Ha!" she declared triumphantly.

"I wasn't admitting defeat," he grumbled. "Merely pointing out that I haven't been turned down because I didn't ask."

"Does that mean you've constantly got women throwing themselves at you," she began, clearly warming up to the debate. "Or that you're a rapist."

"Certainly not the latter!"

"So, women throw themselves at you wherever you go," she snapped. She gave him a thorough inspection, starting at his toes and lingering longer than made him comfortable on the area between his thighs and his neck. When her gaze finally returned to his, she sighed and added, "Regardless, I have no intention of joining their ranks. So, you can just drop it."

He groaned and said, "How did we end up talking about sex? I just want to take you to lunch."

"Ha! I knew you weren't interested in me."

"Is there any way we could pretend we're just two reasonably rational human beings in search of sustenance? I swear on my eyes I have nothing nefarious in mind. Just food and, I hope, a bit of pleasant company."

She stared at him for forty-seven long seconds before finally saying, "Fine," and walking quickly toward the building's exit.

Twenty-Three

"What is this place?" Yasmine asked quietly as Felix ushered her through the door to a small diner located just off campus.

"I believe your people call it a restaurant," he replied with a wink.

"You know what I meant."

"Actually, I really don't. Is there something wrong?"

"It's basically deserted," she hissed, her eyes flitting around furtively at the mostly empty tables.

"Perhaps that's because it's the middle of the afternoon," he offered. He then gestured to a mural on the wall showing a fantasy world made up entirely of breakfast confections and added, "Or maybe we're just fortunate enough to have missed their busy time. In any case, I suspect we'll be able to get you something that is made to order. As opposed to quote, unquote, food which was prepared months ago."

"Fine," she huffed before glancing around again and saying, "How do we know where to..."

"Feel free to seat yourselves," a man's voice wrecked by decades of smoking called out from the direction of the kitchen. "I'll be out in a minute."

Felix waved Yasmine toward a table close to the door. She took a seat after an obvious pause as she waited for him to take the initiative. He sat across from her and perused the menu. He would have preferred to look at his companion, but he could tell that she was already nearing her breaking point with respect to receiving his undivided attention. Similar to how he yearned to humiliate and cripple those responsible for shaming her to her students, he also desired a few minutes alone with those responsible for raising her. Not necessarily out of a wish to hurt them, unless his investigation into how she had acquired such painful shyness revealed malignancy on their part.

The waiter, if one could apply such a label to someone who was also obviously the cook, appeared at their table and grunted, "What do you want?"

"Oh," Yasmine yelped. "I'll have a BLT. And iced tea."

The waiter turned to Felix, who suppressed his desire to order five-figures worth of calories out of fear that it would further turn off his companion. He put away his menu and said, "The same."

She gave him a withering look and said, "Don't patronize me."

"What?" he complained loudly.

"You must eat, like, four whole chickens a day to support that physique. You can't possibly be content with a paltry sandwich and fries."

He shrugged and said, "I have a very resilient metabolism. In any case, I find that I can't get enough fresh vegetables since coming to your country. Where I come from, everything is pre-packaged." Felix noticed belatedly that the surly cook-slash-waiter had declined to wait for the conclusion of the conversation, having instead returned to the relative solitude of the kitchen, so he gestured in that direction and added, "It appears to be a moot point in any case."

"Fine," she huffed. "You're the one who's going to be hungry in an hour." He merely smiled in response, content to wait her out rather than allow a faux pas on his part to reinforce the idea, in her head, that he had an ulterior motive. At length, she said, "What is it?"

"Pardon?"

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I like looking at you."

"But... why?"

"Because I don't want to miss a smile."

She managed to hide her blush with a frown and said, "I can't accept that. Men who look like you don't give women who look like me a second look unless you've got an ulterior motive. I appreciate the offer of lunch, but I think I'll pay for my own meal."

He sighed and said, "I didn't always look like this." He gestured toward their waiter and said, "Until quite recently, I rather resembled our surly chef."

"Congratulations, but that hardly makes things any better."

"How so?"

"If you have the discipline required to completely remake your body in a short time span, you're even less likely to be interested in me."

Felix's grim determination to keep his origin secret evaporated in the face of Yasmine's devastating self-doubt. He looked around briefly before whispering, "I enlisted five of my months ago. At that time, I underwent a Conditioning process which fundamentally altered my physiology."

"What does that mean, five of 'your months'?"

"This Conditioning was in preparation for fighting for an alien race which was, at least in theory, an ally of humanity. It took place in the spring of the year 2261. Three weeks ago, I was in a hopeless battle less than a light year from Vega and I attempted to ram the enemy flagship. My theory is that the resulting explosion sent me both back in time and back to Earth."

"Oh," she enthused sarcastically. "Sure. Obviously."

"I couldn't be more serious."

"I don't suppose you're prepared to offer any proof to support your claim?"

He gestured to the flatware on the table and said, "You could slice my arm open to demonstrate how quickly I heal now."

She shuddered and said, "No, thank you."

"I know it's preposterous. All available math and science in this time says that at least three things I told you are impossible. I have no idea how they were done, it was all alien tech. Humanity is little more than..."

His words trailed off at the realization of a disturbance around them. He looked up to find the restaurant's patrons flocking toward a television hanging above the counter. On the screen was shaking coverage of what appeared to be a battle taking place in an urban environment.

Suddenly, Yasmine gasped, "Oh my God, that's in Wilmington."

"What?" Felix hissed worriedly. "Are you sure?"

"Of course. That's just a few blocks west of here in the banking district."

As he watched, an armored combatant ran up to a vehicle and tore the door open before diving inside. He emerged seconds later holding a toddler and began running heavily up the street with his newly acquired human shield. Without conscious thought, Felix's feet took him quickly in the direction of the door.

His movement was interrupted when Yasmine yelped, "What are you doing?"

"Oh," he replied distractedly before dropping a few bills on the table and hurrying through the door, heedless of her loud shout pleading with him to stop.

Upon arriving outside, he dashed unerringly west without even stopping to question the fact that he had evidently developed an internal compass. He raced along the street, opting for the lane meant for vehicles rather than worrying about shoving pedestrians out of the way. A dim part of his consciousness noted the fact that he was passing vehicles traveling the speed limit, but his senses were entirely focused on the coming battle.

He could hear the gunshots long before he could see anything beyond the beginnings of a barricade the authorities were anxiously trying to erect. A wide-eyed policewoman saw him coming and held her hand up to bring him to a halt. Felix had no intention of sacrificing his momentum, however, so he leapt over both her and her car as he scanned the area for threats.

He moved another block past dozens of fleeing bystanders before he saw a combatant in the guise of a terrified looking officer wearing ineffective-looking body armor. Felix paused a few meters from him, glancing in the direction of heavy automatic weapons fire without spotting anyone further.

His attention was snapped violently back to the hapless officer when an explosion rang out from just over his left shoulder. He turned to find the aforementioned lawman looking at him in fear, his pistol pointed at Felix's head. With a leap, Felix was on the officer and had disarmed him.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Felix whispered fiercely as he relieved the officer of his spare mags.

The officer pointed at him in undisguised terror and said, "How?"

Felix glanced down to where the officer was pointing and saw a rapidly healing hole in his left shoulder caused by the officer's shot. He waved it away and said, "How many hostiles? And where are they?"

The officer pointed shakily to the north before lapsing into a catatonic fugue as he slumped against the cruiser. Felix spared a moment to look before racing across another block in the indicated direction. An extended burst of shots rang out, causing him to slide to a halt behind a bus stop. He took a moment to study the weapon in his hand before coming to the uncomfortable realization that he had no idea how it worked beyond the obvious 'point and shoot' functionality.

Another half block of movement toward the front was accompanied by shots from multiple angles, but it finally brought Felix close enough to survey the battlefield. Within seconds, he spotted the kidnapper he had seen on the vid-cast and raced in that direction at maximum speed. Too late, his quarry noticed the hulking figure in cargo shorts and a bloody t-shirt speeding toward him at nearly fifty kilometers per hour. The gunman turned his weapon on Felix and began firing wildly. Felix's arm snapped up with lightning quickness, but the pistol remained silent. For want of a better strategy, he whipped the pistol at the gunman's head, catching him in the temple and rendering him instantly unconscious. He skidded to a stop and plucked the toddler from the villain's arms before the latter hit the ground. He also took a moment to scoop up his pistol in hopes of figuring out how it worked.

Felix took a moment to look around, shielding the child's body with his own as the cacophony of gunshots intensified. He could feel the occasional round striking him in the back and shoulder and he knew it was only a matter of time before a lucky bullet either hit the child or hit him in a place which would take him out. For want of a better option, he bent over and yanked a manhole cover from the street. He spun it around and jammed his thumb into one of the holes, holding it in front of the upper half of his body as he once again raced across the street.

He slid to a stop in a fashion which would have made a center fielder jealous next to a police cruiser. He quickly found a worrying array of gun barrels pointing in his direction. In response, he dropped his shield and held the toddler out like a peace offering. After an insultingly long pause, one of the officers lowered his weapon and reached out to scoop up the erstwhile hostage.

Felix nodded his thanks and said, "How many are left?"

"Uh," the officer stammered. "Five. We think."

Felix scanned the battlefield and spotted three of the combatants before turning back to the officers and saying, "Looks like a stalemate." The officers frowned their agreement, prompting Felix to sigh and add, "Would you like my assistance?"

After a long silent conference performed entirely with looks and shrugs, the officer holding the child said, "What are you going to do?"

Felix looked around the group and said, "I don't suppose any of you have a fully charged pulse rifle?" They looked at him in confusion, to which he responded with a confident grin and added, "Then perhaps one of you could show me how to work this thing?" as he pulled the pistol from his waistband.

They looked at him warily before the eldest of them held out his hand. Felix handed over the weapon before the officer thumbed a button above the trigger guard to eject the magazine as he said, "Remember to rack the slide after you reload. The safety is on the opposite side of the handle from the mag release."

He handed the pistol back to Felix, who practiced reloading a few times before thumbing off the safety and saying, "Thanks. Any other advice?"

The officer shook his head sadly and said, "Don't get killed."

"I'll try," Felix grunted as he got to his knees. He glanced at the radio clipped to the man's epaulet and added, "Think maybe you can get your comrades to treat me as an ally?"

The man nodded and began speaking into his mic as Felix hefted the manhole cover and raced toward the fray, his makeshift shield held just below his eyeline as he waited for his first target to come into view.

It was a short wait. The three combatants he had spotted had not failed to notice his conference with the police and began firing the instant he left cover. He responded by leaping up and over a bullet riddled car, taking the closest enemy out with a pair of bullets to center mass. Upon landing, he scrambled to the cover the now stunned assailant had been using and incapacitated him with a well-placed blow to the temple. He gave the weapon his fallen foe had carried a longing look, but quickly realized he was even more clueless as to the rifle's use than he had been about the pistol's. He took the opportunity to change magazines as he reassessed the situation.

Two of the remaining combatants seemed to be inside a building roughly fifty meters from his position and, judging by what he could hear in the scant moments where no one was shooting, they were not alone. He knew that, assuming the assailants were willing to kill their hostages, a traditional frontal attack would certainly lead to a bloodbath. Felix gave brief thought to attempting a flanking maneuver and entering the building from the rear, but immediately discarded it due to his fear of becoming hopelessly lost in the urban maze of buildings. His eyes next went to the cars scattered haphazardly around the street and the beginnings of a plan began to form. He poked his head up to survey the vehicles closest to him, sending a few rounds in each of the nearest assailants' directions to keep them distracted.

The next time Felix emerged it was not to fire ineffectively with the short-ranged weapon. It was instead to rush toward the largest of the nearby vehicles, an enormous thing with seating for eight. The roar of its engine filled the canyon between the buildings as he turned over the ignition with the helpfully abandoned keys. While it would be an accurate statement to say he had never driven an internal combustion vehicle, he was confident in his observations from countless ride-shares being sufficient. He dropped the SUV into gear and floored the throttle.

Bullets noisily riddled the vehicle's exterior as he raced toward the building where the hostages were being held. By the time he was able to see the building's interior, he was traveling at nearly eighty kilometers per hour. Moments before slamming into the wall of windows, Felix yanked the handle to the door and rolled free. The crunch of metal and concrete filled the urban landscape as the SUV went through the building's windows as though they were tissue paper and slammed unceremoniously into the counter beyond.

Felix was up instantly, the blood pouring from the shredded skin along his shoulder and back forgotten as he raced after the SUV. He had managed to lose his shield upon exiting the vehicle, but his trusty pistol was still held firmly. He sent two shots toward each of the hostage takers as he raced through the ruined window. He knew it would do little more than stun them, thanks to their body armor, but his primary concern was the hostages. Felix raced toward the first assailant, relieving him of both his hostage and his life, thanks in large part to the fact that the latter could only fire helplessly into Felix's chest while the former crushed his windpipe with a hammer fist to his throat.

Ducking behind a well-placed counter to catch his breath, Felix scanned around for anything he could use as another shield. He knew the damage he was taking was adding up. It only took a glance at his chest to show that the latest wounds he had taken were not healing as quickly and the amount of blood he was losing was, to put it mildly, worrying. He recognized that he had to end things quickly.

Recognizing humanity's inherent bias toward two-dimensional thinking, he coiled his legs beneath him and leapt straight up into the air. He landed five shots on the second assailant, all but one hitting the annoyingly effective body armor. But Felix's fourth shot caught the spot between the attacker's helmet and chest plate. The villain screamed in pain and fell to the ground as Felix crashed back to earth. The erstwhile gunman crawled toward Felix, arriving just as the former managed to extract a wicked looking device from his satchel.

"Don't come closer or I'll..." the assailant gurgled, blood streaming from the bottom of his helmet. But his words turned into a scream when Felix reached out and crushed both the man's wrist and the device he held.

As Felix felt the comforting embrace of unconsciousness surrounding him, he could hear the hostages' shouts of relief as the police stormed into the building.

Twenty-Four

"Ok, Mister Dvořák..." the police detective grunted as he flipped absentmindedly through his messy notebook.

"Dvoryanin," Felix corrected reflexively.

"Whatever. Let's just talk through this one more time."

"Why?" Felix protested. "We've done that three times already." He gestured to the recorder on the hospital tray between them and added, "Just listen to that if you need to hear it again."

"I'm just having difficulty understanding how..."

"Me too," Felix interrupted. "I can't understand how six men in battle-worthy body armor could be allowed to just waltz into a bank in broad daylight and take nearly two dozen hostages."

He doubted the deflection would have the desired effect, but he was desperate at this point to do anything possible to avoid talking about the one thing he could not explain. He had been verbally sparring with the detective for the last hour while he sat helplessly in a hospital bed. The only silver lining was that, prior to the detective's arrival, he had successfully convinced the hospital to feed him. The food had been severely lacking in taste but had provided a small portion of the calories his body desperately needed to begin the healing process. He still felt like he had fallen down a black-diamond ski slope in the middle of summer, hitting every rock and tree as he descended, but his wounds had at least closed up and he was no longer losing blood.

"That's being handled by another department," the detective snapped. "My concern is the fact that you killed four men..."

"Two," Felix muttered, almost to himself.

"Four," the detective corrected firmly. "Both those guys you hit in the head died."

"Pity."

"Meaning you're glad they're dead."

Felix glared at the detective and said, "They chose violence, sir. Not me. That first man, if you can call him such, was using a baby as a shield. Surely you can't make the case that he deserved any less than death."

"It's not my place to say."

"Bullshit. You're a citizen, aren't you? Do you want to live in a country where such barbarism is forgiven."

"Speaking of which. We're having difficulty with your ID. Where did you say you were from?"

"Lots of places," he groaned as he fell back in the bed.

"Such as?"

"Why is it that I'm getting the impression you'd have preferred those assholes had killed their hostages and escaped rather than you guys having to deal with the humiliation of someone doing your job for you?"

The detective opened his mouth to retort but was cut off when the door to the hospital room opened and a large man in a suit stepped inside. He scanned the room quickly before glaring at the cop and saying, "Just what do you think you're doing?"

"Questioning the suspect," the detective barked in reply. "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm Mr. Dvoryanin's lawyer."

"What?" Felix and the detective said in unison.

The lawyer's steady gaze had never left the detective. He said, "I really must insist you give us some privacy."

After a delay of not less than twenty seconds, the detective sighed and got shakily to his feet. He yanked his pants back into place beneath his rotund belly and said, "Fine. You've got ten minutes."

"I assume he was Mirandized," the lawyer inquired as the detective's hand reached the doorknob.

"Of course not. He's not in custody."

"Good to know nothing he may or may not have said is admissible," the lawyer said triumphantly. "I'll let you know when we're ready to depart."

As the door slammed closed, Felix opened his mouth to question the newcomer, but the latter held a single finger aloft and said, "Not a blessed word." The confusion on Felix's face only deepened, prompting the interloper to add, "My name is Greg Sheehan and I've been hired to represent you. While anything you say to me is technically protected, I would not put it above our faithful protectors to use anything you might say in an effort to, shall we say, guide their investigation. So, we'll instead start with what you've already told them."

"Just the truth," Felix huffed. "I genuinely don't understand why they're bothering questioning me at all. It's not as if there are a lack of witnesses."

"Because that's what detectives do. Now... this may seem indelicate, but what is your current condition?"

"Why would that be an inappropriate question?"

Greg shrugged and said, "It is not often one encounters a miracle. The footage I saw on TV shows you being shot multiple times, yet you appear no worse off than when I mow the lawn on a hot day."

"Then how can you be certain I was shot?" Felix hedged. "Maybe they missed."

"Do you honestly think the local news is going to pass up a chance to use their most favorite phrase in the world?" He dropped his voice an octave and adopted a stern expression. "The following footage contains graphic violence... viewer discretion is advised." He set his briefcase down and took a seat before adding, "I saw you take at least four rounds in the shoulder and two in the chest. I'm not saying you should definitely be explaining yourself to Saint Peter, but I fail to understand how you're not, at a minimum, in surgery."

"Just lucky, I guess."

Greg shrugged and said, "Fair enough. I'm neither your priest nor your judge. I do, however, have reason to believe you're a, shall we say, informal guest in our fair republic. Which, I suspect, is the only thing you genuinely have to fear from the men in blue outside your door. Even in the most backwards jurisdiction, your behavior today is legally protected on several fronts."

"So, what do we do about the other issue?"

"That remains to be seen. I asked about your condition in the hopes that you are in fact in as good of health as you appear to be. Meaning we could walk out of this place before the gentleman who was interrogating you figures out that your presence in this country is sufficiently legally dubious for him to hold you."

Felix flipped the sheet off and stood up before tearing the leads from his arms.

Greg said, "Sweet Jesus, son. Put some clothes on," as he scooped up his briefcase.

Felix glanced down at his nakedness before looking apologetically at the lawyer and saying, "Any suggestions?"

"Here," Greg snapped, pulling a plastic bag from his briefcase. "I took the liberty."

Felix pulled a pair of workout shorts and a tank top from the bag and put them on as Greg muttered, "Not hard to figure what she sees in you."

"What was that?" Felix asked as he finished dressing.

Greg opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by a sharp knock on the door followed quickly by the aforementioned aperture opening and the detective poking his head inside.

"Excuse me, detective," Greg snapped angrily. "Do I need to have a conversation with your chief about the meaning of protected counsel?"

"Keep your panties on, counselor," the detective drawled. "I got a lady out here who says she's the suspect's..." A glare from the lawyer which could have melted iron caused the detective to blanche and stammer, "I mean patient's..."

"Better," Greg muttered.

"Sister," the detective finished breathlessly. "Since the patient doesn't show up in any of our searches, we have no way to corroborate her bona fides."

"That word of the day calendar is really paying off."

"Does he want to see her, or don't he?"

Greg glanced toward Felix, who started to shake his head in the negative before a sense of hope drifted over him at the thought that it might be Quinn. Dropping her work responsibilities and trying to bluff her way into his hospital room seemed right up her alley, although he could not guess whether she would be more apt to congratulate or berate him.

Felix nodded eagerly at Greg, who turned to the detective and said, "Send her in."

Felix was busily straightening up the room, mostly in an attempt to hide the obviously bloodstained sheets, when the door opened. He thus missed his guest's entry. The greeting which had been on his lips when he turned to greet her vanished. Several moments of confused, and frankly awkward, staring ensued only to be broken by the lawyer reaching out his hand to the newcomer and saying, "Greg Sheehan. Attorney at law."

"Yasmine Akbar," came the demur reply.

"I thought his name was Dvořák," the detective snapped accusingly. "And what's with her skin being so much darker? In fact, yous two don't look nothing alike."

"Dvoryanin," Felix snapped. "And I was adopted, you small-minded idiot."

"Why I outta," the detective growled as he pushed back into the hospital room.

"Stop!" Greg barked. "Unless you want to spend the next month checking parking meters. This is my client, and you will respect his rights. What's more, I don't care if he says the queen's corpse is his sister. If he says she stays... then here she remains until one or both of them say otherwise. You will leave this room at once, and not return without my permission. Am I clear?"

The detective took several moments to reply, and it seemed likely that Greg's steely glare was the only thing that finally moved him to speak. "Have it your way, Mr. Sheehan."

When the door closed again, Felix looked at Yasmine and hissed, "What are you doing here?"

She merely frowned in reply, prompting Greg to posit, "I take it, then, that the young lady is not your sister?"

"We met this morning," Felix provided. "I was trying, and mostly failing, to treat her to a pleasant lunch when I saw reports of the attack downtown."

"And you just jumped in the car and headed toward the sounds of gunfire?"

"Not as such," Felix hedged.

"He ran," Yasmine offered quietly.

"Indeed," Greg allowed. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised considering your other... talents."

"How?" Yasmine began softly.

Greg shook his head and said, "Not here." He then turned to Felix and said, "As I mentioned previously, I intend to walk you out of here. It's up to you whether we allow your lovely sister to tag along. Please keep in mind, however, that anything you tell her not in my presence is not protected."

"Fine by me," Felix said with a smile before turning to Yasmine and adding, "How about it? Are you up for a little more adventure?" He glanced at the clock on the wall and winced. "I assume you missed your afternoon class?"

"Classes were cancelled due to the proximity of the shooter."

"Shooters," Felix corrected.

"Not anymore, it would seem."

"Indeed," Felix allowed. "So?"

Yasmine paused for a long moment before blurting out, "Why not?" as though in a rush to speak before she could think better of it.

Felix turned to Greg and nodded before saying, "What's next?"

"Just follow my lead and try not to say anything. God willing, you'll be in the proverbial undisclosed location in no time. And no matter what, don't kill anyone else. Especially me."

"What?" Felix huffed.

"I said quiet," Greg snapped before opening the door and hurrying through as Felix and Yasmine rushed to catch up.

Twenty-Five

The departure from the hospital was not without its difficulties but, using a combination of guile and audacity, Greg managed to extract them within a matter of minutes. He led Felix and Yasmine to the largest car the former had ever seen, which was waiting by the curb in from of the hospital. It whisked away as soon as the group were comfortably ensconced in the rear, with Felix and Yasmine seated together and Greg in a rearward facing seat in front of them. Felix was dimly aware that they were headed generally northwest, but little else was evident as the buildings turned into a blur once they merged onto the dual carriageway.

Felix turned to Yasmine and said, "I'm sorry."

"For vanishing from our lunch date... I meant lunch... with barely a word of apology?" she asked haltingly.

"Well, yes. For that as well. But also, for how I behaved when you arrived in the room a bit ago."

"You were expecting your girlfriend?"

He shook his head sadly and said, "No girlfriend. But when that cop said my sister was visiting, I assumed it could only be a friend of mine. I meant what I said earlier today. I am new to this country and know next to no one here. The people in this car represent a significant percentage of the people I know within ten thousand kilometers."

"How lonely for you," she gushed softly.

"I'm not complaining," Felix replied warmly. "This life is better in every way compared to the one I left behind." He reached out to take her hand, causing her to startle at the contact. He pulled his hand back regretfully and said, "We can take you wherever you wish to go. I genuinely appreciate that you came to check on me, but..."

She reached out to take his hand again and said, "I'm sorry. You didn't scare me, Felix. Ever. I was just so worried about you."

"Thank you," he said softly. He waited a few long beats before adding, "Where can we drop you?"

"As I said," she replied softly. "Classes were cancelled. I have nothing on my calendar until Monday. But if you're looking to get rid of me then..."

"No," he snapped, louder than he intended. He squeezed her hand gently, aiming for reassuring more than crushing her bones into a fine powder, and added, "Never. I just couldn't bear the thought of you feeling indebted to me when all I've done is monopolize your time and bully you into having lunch with me. A lunch, I might add, that I literally ran away from at max speed."

"You didn't bully me. And, as sad as it sounds, that was the most enjoyable lunch I've had in weeks."

He smiled and said, "I'm glad. We shall have to do it again sometime. And, this time, I promise not to scamper off like a meercat who got spooked by some thunder."

"To be fair," she offered with a shrug. "Watching you run is very impressive. Even if you were running away."

"Were you looking at my backside?"

"No!" she replied both too quickly and too loudly.

Felix laughed out loud before saying, "I'll keep that in mind." He turned to Greg and said, "Where are we going?"

"I already told you," Greg replied snippily.

"Have it your way," Felix conceded as he sank back into the seat.

Greg glanced in Yasmine's direction and said, "There are a few things we need to discuss of a somewhat sensitive nature."

Felix waved his hand and said, "I've got nothing to hide."

"Fair enough. Aside from the fact that you're an illegal immigrant, is there anything else I should know? Any other crimes you've committed?"

Thoughts of the hundreds of sentients he had killed in battle flashed through his mind, not to mention the possibility that his ramming of the Chalawanian flagship had killed tens of thousands more. "Not in this solar system."

"Whatever. I think we can get you a reasonably convincing green card, but if it turns out you're some Romanian gangster, that won't do you a hell of a lot of good."

"Definitely not a gangster in any jurisdiction. Just a soldier who found a unique way of escaping from the horrors of war."

Greg nodded knowingly and said, "I see. Well, as I said, we'll see what we can do. As for you, we appear to have arrived at the aforementioned undisclosed location."

He gestured to a sprawling house situated on a piece of property large enough that Felix had difficulty spotting any other dwellings. The limousine came to a stop before the structure moments later, prompting Felix to open his door and climb out. He handed Yasmine out, who smiled her thanks, before he turned to address Greg. The question died on his lips, however, as the door closed in advance of the car pulling away.

"Thanks," Felix grunted to the departing vehicle. He looked to Yasmine and said, "What do you think?"

She shrugged and said, "It's either go inside or summon a ride-share."

"What's the worst thing that could happen?" Felix agreed.

"Apparently not getting shot," she countered. "At least not for you."

They climbed the steps of the house. After a brief pause, Felix rapped his knuckles firmly on the sturdy door.

"It's open," a speaker next to the door crackled.

Felix twisted the knob and preceded Yasmine inside. He was at once aware that it was the largest single-family home he had ever entered. Several rooms adjoined the grand hall, none of which appeared particularly functional to his eyes which saw a space sufficient for dozens of multi-generational families. He continued down the hall, peering into each room but failing to find any inhabitants. A study; a living room; a dining room; a kitchen; a sparsely furnished guest room. All were barren. An investigation of an unfurnished basement also failed to turn up any sign of fellow sentients.

They started to climb the stairs to the second floor with Felix feeling a mixture of wariness and irritation. Logic dictated that it was highly unlikely they had been brought to an empty house in the middle of nowhere with no explanation. Greg had certainly implied that Felix was being brought to whomever had hired him. Hence, at least in Felix's mind, the entire exercise of being made to search the house was nothing more than a game. He stopped halfway up the stairs, determined to thwart whatever designs his mysterious benefactor had invented.

Yasmine looked at him questioningly and said, "What is it?"

"I'm tired of playing games." He gestured down the grand staircase toward the kitchen and said, "And I'm hungry. Shall we?"

She nodded and said, "I'm not surprised, considering your lunch is likely still sitting where you left it."

They returned to the kitchen, once again finding evidence that he was not alone in the guise of a fully stocked pantry and fridge. He began assembling the makings of a pair of sandwiches, the latter of which even the gods would have balked at consuming (his stomach making no bones about informing him that he was tens of thousands of calories in the red at present). The final products looked preposterous in comparison, with one being a fairly typical BLT while the other was as tall as it was wide, piled high with an array of meats, cheeses and vegetables.

Yasmine nodded her thanks but eyed his sandwich suspiciously and said, "I knew that you were just trying to placate me."

"Pardon?"

"I told you earlier today..." she shook her head before adding, "My goodness, was that only this afternoon? It seems like months. In any case, I knew you were just ordering the same thing I did to humor me."

He frowned and said, "I do like BLT's. But I must admit that you're correct on one thing. It takes a fair number of calories to satisfy me. Especially on days like today."

"You don't have to defend stress eating to me," she replied grumpily. She then glanced down toward her midsection and said, "Obviously."

He started to correct her, gutted that she considered herself to be anything other than beautiful, but he was cut off when a warm contralto voice spoke from the kitchen entrance, "There you are."

He turned to find a stunningly gorgeous woman with long black hair and a playful expression on her vaguely familiar seeming face. She was wearing a form-fitting pencil skirt and white blouse which did a spectacular job of showcasing her mouthwatering hourglass figure. The buttons of her top did not extend above her sternum, giving him a marvelous view of her cleavage. She strutted toward him and plucked a stray piece of cheese from his plate. She ate it slowly, her lips closing around the rich treat with tantalizing patience.

He tamped down the voice in the back of his head which was eagerly demanding his attention and lifted his sandwich before saying, "I hope you don't mind."

"Why would I mind?" she replied sultrily.

Felix looked at Yasmine and shrugged helplessly and was gutted to watch her features shut down completely. She set her sandwich down without taking a bite and seemed to fold in on herself. He rounded the kitchen's expansive island and sidled up beside her. After a moment's hesitation, he wrapped an arm around her gently and was somewhat relieved to note that she did not pull away from him. She did not, however, relax even an iota.

After several awkward seconds, he looked to their host and said, "I assume I have you to thank for the gentleman who brought us here."

"Indeed," she answered briefly.

Her eyes twinkled teasingly, and he could no longer ignore the sense that she was toying with him. At length, he sighed and said, "I've kind of had a hell of a day. And, while I appreciate what you did for me, I'm in no mood for games."

"What makes you think I'm playing a game?"

"The fact that you answer every question with a question, or with an unhelpful one-word answer."

"You really don't know what's going on here, do you?"

"As I said, I've had quite a day. My enjoyable lunch with a beautiful woman was rudely interrupted. I got shot Bog knows how many times and then I got interrogated for over an hour. All for the unforgivable sin of stopping men who see nothing wrong with using innocent children as a shield. It's no wonder this country ate itself and plunged the world into darkness." He paused for a long moment, his frustration and exhaustion battling with his unshakable curiosity. After several long moments, an uncomfortable thought occurred to him. He regarded her intently and added, "Are we enemies?"

She laughed out loud and said, "I should think not, considering the last time we spoke, you were inside me."

Felix gawked at her openly, his mind racing. At length he managed to whisper a single word. "Isabella?"

"You look..." Felix began before he once again lost the power of speech.

"Go on," Isabella prompted, the playful expression on her face growing ever brighter.

"Good?"

Her mischievous expression faltered for the briefest of moments before she taunted, "Only good?"

He frowned and said, "I'm really sorry. I'm typically not this guy, but..."

"You've had a hell of a day?" she guessed.

"Yeah. Please don't read anything into it, but I desperately need some rest."

"Top of the stairs. Third door on the right."

He smiled wearily and looked to Yasmine, who said, "I'm honestly stunned you're still able to stand, after the day you've had." She waved toward the stairs and added, "Go on."

Felix's eyes danced between the women. "You'll still be here when I get up?"

"Count on it," Isabella replied with a small smile at once with Yasmine softly replying, "Of course."

Twenty-Six

When Felix awoke, there was the merest hint of early morning's light shining in through the windows. He laid still for several moments as he absorbed his surroundings. He was alone in the room in which he found himself, but he could immediately sense two other people in the house. It took him several moments to find a lamp by touch, only barely avoiding knocking the unnecessarily delicate item to the floor. The illumination informed him that he was in a luxurious, and quite large, bedroom. The individual charged with decorating the room clearly had a fascination with murdering animals as the walls were festooned with the heads, and in some cases, full bodies of a wide array of mammals, birds and fishes.

His amused examination of the room came to a rapid halt when he realized that the clothes he dimly remembered leaving on the foot of the bed were missing. An anxious examination of the room turned up no sign of them. He did, however, locate a note penned messily and left upon the bathroom counter.

'You will find clothes in the closet and food in the kitchen

Meet us in the study when you are ready'

The note was unsigned, but Felix had little difficulty remembering the impossible scene from before he had begged Isabella's indulgence and sought the refuge of sleep. He tried to keep his mind from spiraling with all the impossible possibilities while he saw to his ablutions, and it was not without difficulty that he succeeded.

"What is Bog's name is going on?" he asked his reflection in the mirror. The doppelganger had no answers, except to help Felix realize he was in desperate need of a shower. His wounds from the previous day had healed, but he was still, as near as makes no difference, caked in blood and grime.

He hurried his way through a shower, recognizing quickly that an extended examination of the last twenty-four hours would only lead to more questions. His memory, and his imagination, held a contrary opinion and his mind's eye was quickly filled with the sight of Isabella's impossibly spectacular body. That it was her was undeniable. He placed her voice immediately once his mind got out of the way with its stubborn insistence about just how preposterous her transformation had been. He had nearly as quickly recognized her sultrily playful demeanor. Everything was familiar, save for the fact that she had gone from mature and slender while still being undeniably attractive to stunningly gorgeous with vid-cast star impossible looks. His manhood swelled at the memory of her newfound body in the form-fitting black dress she had worn.

Felix looked down at the offending appendage angrily and grumbled, "What's wrong with you?"

His subconscious answered by replacing the vision of Isabella with that of Yasmine. His manhood swelled to a painful degree as he recalled her voluptuous curves and her all too infrequent smiles. His mind filled with the tantalizingly alluring woman he knew he would find beneath her shy exterior and her self-deprecating nature. Her shy disposition reminded him greatly of Quinn, as both seemed to be wired to always see to others before sparing a thought for themselves.

His thoughts started to devolve, visions of all three women flipping through his subconscious in rapid succession until they were little more than a blur. He growled in frustration and snapped the water of the shower off. He dried himself quickly and went in search of clothing. The note had spoken truthfully, but it still took him some time to find clothing thanks to the room having four closets (including the two in the bathroom). Unlike the clothing Greg had offered him the previous day, the jeans and button-down shirt Felix found in the closet fit him brilliantly, as did the briefs he found in a nearby drawer. He located shoes which also mysteriously fit, his unease at having been properly measured without his knowledge taking a backseat to the comfort of being able to properly clothe himself. He was brimming with both questions and lust, the latter due to the undeniable sense that he could actually smell both Yasmine and Isabella's presence elsewhere in the house.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, Felix's ears picked up the soft murmur of voices in the study. He took a step in that direction before his nose informed him of a mélange of heavenly smells coming from the direction of the kitchen. He wasted several long seconds stuck between two competing objectives before he gave in and headed in the direction of the kitchen. There he found a spread of pastries and fruit along with a pot of hot coffee and a note directing him to the oven where the bacon, sausage and potatoes which had drawn his attention in the first place were being kept warm.

He spent five deliriously enjoyable minutes gorging himself on just north of five-thousand calories of high cholesterol goodness before he burped softly and poured himself a large cup of coffee.

He found the women, as his inexplicable senses told him he would, in the study. Even more baffling than the certainty he had had about their location was the fact that they were laughing together as he entered. He came to a stop and regarded them suspiciously for several moments before his presence was noticed.

"Welcome back to the realm of the living," Isabella said warmly.

"How are you feeling?" Yasmine added more softly.

"Like I could take on a whole squad of Chalawanians by myself," he retorted.

"A what?" Isabella asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"Nothing," Felix deflected as he took a seat opposite where they shared a couch. "How long was I out?"

Yasmine glanced at the ornate clock above the fireplace and said, "About sixteen hours."

"Cripes," he groaned. "I'm so sorry."

"Whatever for?" Isabella retorted playfully. "I suspect either of us would have been out for far longer had we run a halfway across midtown followed by getting shot at least ten times. To say nothing of foiling the robbery."

"Is that what that was?" he asked grimly. "I assumed it was yet another terrorist plot based on their armament and disregard for civilians."

"Nope," she replied, popping the 'p' for effect. "Just some assholes who decided that other peoples' lives meant less to them than the prospect of avoiding real work."

"Was anyone killed?" Felix asked reverently. "Other than the criminals?"

"Two people," Yasmine reported softly. "Both bank employees."

"Fuck," he breathed. "I was too late,"

"Hardly," Isabella retorted. "It's undeniable that you saved ten times that number, including the baby. The coverage of you crushing that asshole's skull while simultaneously deftly plucking that kid from his arms is on all the channels. And I mean all of them."

"Oh great," he groaned. "So much for staying under the radar."

"If you're worried about your, shall we say, unapproved presence in this country; don't be. The gentleman who brought you here assures me it's a non-issue. And even if the scheme he has in mind falls through, I've got a few contacts in the local media who would love to run a story about how the government is trying to deport the hero of the Wilmington Shootout. Long story short, you've got nothing to worry about."

He sighed in relief, but that feeling was quickly replaced by a sense of foreboding as he regarded the staggeringly beautiful woman before him. He took another breath before saying, "Which brings us to you."

"What about me?" she retorted, her trademark playfulness back in full force.

He glanced at Yasmine and said, "What have you told her?"

"Only that you began renting an apartment in one of my buildings a few weeks ago. And that, save for a very memorable afternoon we shared together shortly after you moved in, I've had no complaints about you."

He bit back the retort about her most definitely not voicing any complaints before she had departed his apartment, instead murmuring, "You have my most sincere apologies."

She laughed throatily and said, "I wasn't suggesting I found your performance to be anything less than exemplary, my dear man. I meant every word I said to you that memorable afternoon." She turned to Yasmine and added, "I know you said you two just met, but if you ever have a chance to partake; I can't recommend taking our blushing hero here for a spin highly enough. I promise you won't regret it."

"Then who..." Felix began.

"Was complaining?" she finished. "Your neighbors, of course. You must admit, neither of us was very quiet. Especially me. 5-E, an aggravatingly nosy widow, demanded I evict you. She was rather put out when I informed her that would be impossible since I was the one making all the noise. Perhaps she'll finally move out."

Felix felt the awkwardness spiking and felt as though he could feel Yasmine looking around for the exit. He turned to her and said, "I'm really sorry about all this."

"Why?" she replied bitterly. "It's no business of mine who you... enjoy a loud afternoon with."

Isabella reached over and took Yasmine's hand, prompting the latter to tense up. The former said, "It was one day. Weeks ago. It was sex, not a relationship. Spectacularly incredible, life-alteringly fantastic sex, but he owes me no loyalty."

The awkwardness bloomed between the trio, like a virus replicating itself, until Felix could no longer remain silent. "The histories, at least the more honest ones, made mention of the incredible things made possible through plastic surgery during this time period. But I never imagined such a thing could be even remotely possible. Truly, Isabella, you look incredible. I almost didn't recognize you. Although, I must admit that I'm somewhat surprised. You were beautiful before this change. I'm somewhat afraid to ask what led you to seek out such a startling transformation."

"Remarkable," she replied slowly.

"Did you say histories?" Yasmine added softly.

Isabella continued doggedly, "You truly don't know what's happening, do you?"

"Did he say histories?" Yasmine interjected more forcefully.

"I have sought the council of countless doctors in the last ten days," Isabella said pointedly. "Even a plastic surgeon. But I assure you that I have had no surgery."

"Then what happened?" Felix asked in amazement.

"I was hoping you could tell me."

"Wait," Yasmine snapped in irritation. "He said histories. What's going on here?"

"Yes, Felix," Isabella said slowly as she turned to face him. "What, exactly, is going on?"

"Histories," he replied absentmindedly toward the ceiling. He then turned to regard them and started speaking quite softly. "Specifically, one called, 'The Decadent Democracies: The Fall of the West' and another called, 'Bread and Circuses: How the United States Voted Itself Out of Existence'. Both were published during the early phases of the rise of the Chinese Confederacy, sometime in the late twenty-second century and several decades before my birth." He looked to Yasmine and said, "What I said about being a teacher was true. I had an unremarkable life as a math teacher who had the unfortunate tendency to tell the truth in a society where everyone lied. I was... convinced... to enlist in an interplanetary war and was subjected to a fundamental change to my physiology which was alien in origin. That is the genesis of the body you see before you. The war was... not what those back home had been led to believe. It was the worst kind of hell with appalling casualty rates. About six weeks ago, by my internal reckoning, I was in a hopeless battle in the vicinity of Vega. I programmed my ship to ram the enemy flagship. I can only surmise that the craft's FTL and time-travel capacity combined with the terrific amount of energy released when I struck the shields of my target and sent me to this time and place."

"I'm so sorry," Yasmine gushed.

"Why are you apologizing to me?" he gasped. "I just told you I lied to you essentially non-stop since we met." He turned to Isabella and added, "Both of you."

"Because of you were in such dire circumstances that you felt you had no choice but to take your own life," Yasmine continued, undeterred.

"It wasn't as though I was suicidal," Felix deflected. "There was just no chance of survival, so I decided to take as many of those bastards with me as possible. When you get right down to it, it was more bloodthirsty than anything else."

"Bullshit," Isabella snapped. "When its kill or be killed, you're not a murderer if you refuse to give up and die."

"Regardless," Yasmine interjected. "I feel terrible that you were put in that situation in the first place."

"Think nothing of it," Felix said lightly. "It led me here and, even despite today's tragedy, my life is better in every way since I arrived in this time. Thanks in large part to people like yourselves."

Yasmine smiled shyly before obviously changing the subject and saying, "I still don't understand this transformation you're talking about."

Isabella gestured with her chin to the hallway and said, "There's a portrait hanging in the hall of my extended family from our last reunion earlier this summer. I am in the second row, in the middle."

Yasmine glanced between them several times before standing and walking into the hall. Felix and Isabella followed and waited while Yasmine scanned the two dozen faces in the portrait.

At length, her eyes widened as she spotted the slender mature woman at the center of the portrait who looked not unlike Isabella's more genetically gifted niece. She whispered, "Impossible."

"And yet here we stand. Two weeks ago, I looked like that. To Felix's point, I considered myself to be a reasonably attractive thirty-nine-year-old woman, but not someone men would go out of their way to pursue."

"I beg to differ," Felix murmured.

"In any case," Isabella huffed. "That was then." She gestured to her exquisitely flawless body with breasts two cup sizes larger than the picture, flawlessly tanned skin and the kind of lustrous hair even the highest-end salons could only occasionally manage. To say nothing of the fact that she looked to be a decade younger. She struck a pose and said, "And this is now." She looked at Felix and added, "You're the only thing which has changed. Hell, I hadn't had sex with anyone in the three months before I slept with you. So, not to sound ungrateful or anything, but what did you do to me?"

"No one?" Yasmine asked, her head whipping in Isabella's direction.

"What can I say?" Isabella replied with a shrug. "Things didn't end well with the last man who reminded me of the reason I don't do relationships. No one had significantly sparked my interest until Captain Big Cock over there."

Yasmine's gaze drifted for the briefest of moments at Felix's midsection, causing the latter to groan and glare at Isabella. This prompted her to laugh at her companion's discomfiture and say, "What? You've got a giant dick." She turned to Yasmine and said, "I can show you some stretches I recommend."

"I am not having sex with him."

"Why on earth not? He's clearly into you."

"If we could get back to the point at hand," Yasmine hissed. "You said you hadn't been with anyone in a few months." Her gaze whipped around to Felix. "And you said you'd been subjected to some kind of change to your body."

"Indeed. The Cygnians, our purported allies, developed it and provided it to Earth-Gov for the Star Trooper program. In addition to the changes you've already noticed, it also made it so I can go truly shocking durations without eating, drinking or sleeping. It was decided that it was cheaper and more efficient to remake us into super soldiers as opposed to the time and expense of proper training."

"How was the change accomplished?" Yasmine asked excitedly. "As in, what did they do to you?"

Felix shuddered and said, "It was horrific. I'll spare you the gory details but they, for want of a better term, stabbed me in the brain stem and, I assume, injected something which caused this change to take place over the course of a few weeks."

A silence descended for several long moments before Yasmine cleared her throat and said, "At the risk of seeming indelicate, did you use protection?"

Twenty-Seven

"Any sign of her?" Yasmine asked from her position in the backseat of one of Isabella's luxurious sedans.

"Nothing," Felix grumped as he blinked hard, resting his eyes after a long stint of focusing on the office building before them.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Isabella asked carefully from the driver's seat.

Felix turned to glare at her and said, "We will find her."

"I wasn't questioning whether we should find her," Isabella retorted defensively. "Only if you think it's likely she's here. We've been in this parking lot for two hours and Yasmine and I have both done a walk-through and there's no sign of her."

"But how would you know?" Felix asked defeatedly. "You've only got a pic you managed to pull off of social media but there's no telling if, or how much, she may have changed."

"That's a software development shop for an online gambling company," Isabella replied confidently. "I can state conclusively that there are no unusually attractive women in that building."

"At least now that you've come back," Yasmine muttered almost inaudibly.

"But what if it had a different effect on her? What if she's completely unrecognizable?"

The occupants of the car fell silent as Felix resumed scanning the building with his enhanced vision. It had been twenty-seven hours since Yasmine's startling revelation. Isabella had long since passed the point where she was willing to accept, or even tolerate, Felix's repeated apologies for what he had done to her. For the first dozen or so, she had assumed he was being facetious. But, as his pleas for forgiveness persisted, she eventually came to see just how gutted he was about his part in her transformation.

"It's irrelevant if you like the change," he had argued heatedly. "It will have unintended consequences. And that is entirely my doing."

"But you didn't know," she had retorted pleadingly, and to little effect.

One thought had cycled endlessly through his subconscious ever since Yasmine had discovered the cause of Isabella's change: Ursula had warned him and, in his self-centered grief, he had ignored her. Also, he had mused angrily to himself, it was not as though he could claim he had forgotten her bitter final missive. Each word was carved into his memory, like a scar on his brain.

'And before you bring up the changes...

I could have gotten all this without your help...'

Only the dim recognition that he was acting like a colossal asshole had pulled him back from the brink of shouting in rage and demolishing everything within arm's reach. As the red mist had faded, one all-consuming thought had invaded his consciousness: 'I must find Quinn'. Yet countless phone calls and texts, and a dozen visits to both her apartment and office, had yielded zero results.

"I think we need a new plan," Yasmine said tentatively.

Felix had just begun to feel the cold fist of despair wrapping its icy fingers around his consciousness, yet he was uncertain whether to welcome the interruption, or defend himself against it. But when he saw the nervous expression on Yasmine's face, he could not help but retreat. His features softened and he said, "I agree. I think I've bothered you lovely ladies quite enough. Isabella, would you be so kind as to drop Yasmine at home?"

"What are you going to do?" Isabella asked accusingly.

"I'll think of something," Felix replied moodily as he reached for the door.

Just as his hand reached the handle, he heard the click of the locks and Isabella said, "Oh, no you don't. I don't know about Yasmine, but I'm in this for the long haul. Not only am I terribly curious about what, if any, change occurred with Quinn, I genuinely want to help you. Face it, Felix; you're kind of a babe in the woods when it comes to the twenty-first century."

"Then let's at least let Yasmine get back to her life. I've taken up far too much of her time as it is."

"I will leave if you wish it," Yasmine said softly from the backseat, "but I'd much prefer to stay and help you."

"Why?"

"Because it is the right thing to do. You ran into the fire, Felix. To save countless people you'll never meet."

"That's a bit of an exaggeration," he deflected. "It wasn't like I was in real danger."

"Bullshit," she snapped. "You said yesterday that you had no idea your healing factor was sufficient to, as near as makes no difference, make you immune to being shot. Multiple times, I might add. You also still don't know what would happen if you got shot in the head or the heart. You're... a hero."

He lapsed into silence rather than continuing to argue. In truth, he greatly valued both the contributions and the companionship of both women. As his despair began to swell within him once again, he spotted a corpulent man in his late forties hurrying from Quinn's office building wearing a sports team's jersey. He spun to look at the women with a wild gleam in his eyes.

"What is it?" Isabella asked worriedly.

"I know where she might be!" he declared excitedly.

***

Felix cautiously approached a lone figure seated in the back row of the bleachers along the left field line. Much of the crowd had yet to arrive for the match-up between two of the worst teams in the league (or they had made other plans for the evening). As he looked around, Felix realized it was entirely possible there were more people on the field and working concessions than there were in the stands.

His target was a figure of indeterminate age or gender, dressed in unseasonably warm clothing and busily tapping away on a laptop. As he approached, he saw the figure's head move and he heard a decidedly feminine sigh.

"Why couldn't you leave well enough alone," Quinn grumbled. "Doesn't the fact that I dodged all your calls and texts make it pretty fucking clear I don't want to talk to, or especially see, you?"

Felix sat on the same row, but a comfortable distance away; ostensibly staring at the field crew prepping the diamond. Many possible replies flitted through his head like moths around a bare light bulb late at night. At length, he went with the one that was both the most succinct and the most sincere. "I'm so sorry Quinn. I had no idea this would happen."

"Seriously?" she growled. "This wasn't some kind of fucked up gift to the plain girl who had finally accepted the fact that she would have to, as they say, age gracefully?"

"No," he moaned. "Never. I swear to Bog, I didn't know."

Several uncomfortable moments passed before Quinn spoke again. "Swear to me, Felix..."

"I swear on my life, I had no idea. I would never do that to you, Quinn. To anyone."

"How many?" she asked after a lengthy pause.

"Pardon?"

She growled and said, "Don't play coy with me. Obviously, you bumped uglies with at least one other person. Otherwise, you wouldn't have started blowing my phone up yesterday."

"One," he replied quietly. "Her name is Isabella and she's waiting outside."

"I see," Quinn said slowly. "So, you're with her now?"

"No," Felix said quickly before adding, "I mean yes. It's complicated. There's also Yasmine, who I haven't..."

"Irreversibly transformed without even a hint of warning or bothering to check for consent?" Quinn grumbled.

Felix sighed and looked out to the field for several long moments before saying, "I don't know what else to say. I feel terrible about this."

Quinn groaned before saying, "Damn it, Felix. Why couldn't you have been an asshole about this?"

"Um... what?"

"You turned me into a freak. I want nothing more than to hate you. But it's really fucking hard when you're beating yourself up like this."

"Freak?" he whispered.

"Someone who everyone points and stares at, whispering about them behind their back while being outwardly terrified of actually interacting with me in person? Seems a pretty accurate term. I had to start looking for a new job, which is the suck. But I won't continue to subject myself to this kind of treatment. Some jackass even put a webcam on top of the shelf above my desk to try to look down my shirt."

"Give me a name and an address," Felix rumbled.

"You've done quite enough already, sir," she snapped. After a lengthy pause, she added, "Not that anyone can figure out who did it anyway. It was hooked into the Wi-Fi, rather than up to a workstation. And it was broadcasting to a video sharing site. Literally anyone could have done it."

"I don't know how many times I can say I'm sorry."

After another long sigh, she said, "I know. And I believe you."

She turned to regard him, and he gasped at the face that looked back at him. He realized that, over the course of the preceding double dozen hours, he had built up an image in his head of Quinn's expected change. But the reality of her transformation still managed to catch him off guard. Where Isabella had transformed from a slender, good-looking, mature woman into a sultry sexpot that caused every human who harbored even a passing attraction to women that gazed upon her to doubt everything about their lives, the face that looked back at him from Quinn's hood was something fundamentally different.

She had become the physical embodiment of the girl next door. Her light brown hair was now bleach blonde and her warm brown eyes were now startlingly green. Her face was somewhat more rounded with less pronounced cheekbones but a more prominent chin. But, as Felix regarded her, those changes paled in comparison to her deeply tanned skin. Quinn had always shown a tendency to avoid the sun at all costs, always slathering on sunblock when she went outside and, as often as not, adding several layers of clothing on for added protection. She now looked like someone more at home to dodging hordes of admirers on the beaches of southern California than in an endless row of cubicles.

He felt both his upbringing and his heart pleading with him to declare just how beautiful she was, but the look in her eyes told him at once that this was the last thing she wanted to hear. Instead, he said, "It's good to see you."

She frowned, her remade face managing to retain its almost unimaginable beauty, and said, "You too."

"I really am sorry, Quinn. If I had known..."

"I know," she grumped. "So... now what?"

"I don't know. I've kind of been running on nothing but adrenaline and desperation for the last few days. I found out about the, um, transformation... right after the shootout."

"I saw the news," she whispered. "I can't believe you're all right."

"Same here," he sighed. "At least some good came from the fucking Conditioning."

She looked at him for a long minute before saying, "How long since you ate?"

He shook his head distractedly and said, "That doesn't matter. All that matters is that I somehow make amends to you. To both of you."

"What about that girl you said you fucked six ways from Sunday the night before we met?"

"Jiang? I thought about her as well, but I don't have the foggiest idea how to find her. Neither her, nor her companion, ever gave me a last name. And the house they were staying at was a rental. She could be anywhere." He turned to regard her intently and added, "Her, I can't do anything for. But Isabella, and especially you, perhaps I can. And I swear to you that I will."

"Why quote, unquote, especially me?" she asked quietly.

"Isabella is a nice person to be around. She has a zest for life which is all too rare. And Yasmine is a remarkably good person. No matter how frequently I try to encourage her to return to her life, she stays on. They're both very good people and I genuinely hope you like them." He reached out to take her hand before adding, "But you are one of the best friends I've ever had. And the night we shared is an experience I'll remember until I really do travel to Valhalla. And beyond, if I have anything to do with it. I like them, but I truly care about you, Quinn. Please, come back to the house with us and let me try to make this right."

Twenty-Eight

"Seriously?" Felix muttered quietly. "A boy and his parents lost in the big city and stumbling into a dark alley? Is this kid looking to write his own origin story?"

Felix moved across the roof of the building upon which he stood vigil to keep the family in view. He doubted any harm would come to them, but he maintained a close watch out of an abundance of caution.

Moments later, his worst fears were realized as he spotted two shadowy figures detached themselves from the wall and slink after the unsuspecting trio. The family seemed to sense something amiss and made a quick turn in hopes of evading their pursuers. This took them from Felix's sight, so he took a few quick steps to build up some speed and hopped over the narrow alley to the roof of the next building.

Hurrying across, he skidded to a halt in time to hear a growled, "Hey mister... gimme yer wallet."

"Dumb bastards," Felix sighed before unceremoniously stepping off the roof of the four-story building.

He rolled when he hit, trying to redirect some of the energy of his crash into forward momentum. He had tried, a few weeks prior, the infamous superhero landing. Even with his enhanced healing, he had limped for several hours with what he suspected was a thoroughly shattered kneecap and several shredded ligaments. As he skidded to a stop and rose to his full height, he regarded the would-be muggers. They turned slowly to face him in terror while the family watched in rapt fascination.

Felix fiercely whispered, "I thought I made myself quite clear about this type of behavior."

"We ain't afraid of you," the taller mugger spat as he produced a gun.

"I have to warn you," Felix began reasonably in advance of surging forward with the speed of a scalded greyhound to snatch the pistol from the man's hand, breaking most of the man's fingers in the process of disarming him. "Guns are dangerous," he concluded wearily. He then turned to the man's accomplice and added, "Care for an encore?"

The man dropped his gun at once and sank to his knees in defeat.

Felix turned to the family and hooked his thumb to the north. "The main road is that way. Maybe avoid the alleys in the future unless you're quite sure you know where you're going."

"You're him!" the young man exclaimed. "Fenrir! The Invulnerable!"

His mother fiercely shushed him, but Felix merely shrugged and said, "Good evening." After the family staggered away, he turned back to the would-be muggers and said, "What did I tell you? All of you? No more preying on the weak." They merely glared at him in response, prompting him to add, "Do I have to kill you? What if I just broke all of your fingers in such a way that you'd need help opening your precious energy drinks for the rest of your days."

"You win," the man with the ruined hand grunted. "We'll clear out."

"See that you do," Felix spat before stomping out of the alley.

He headed south, but without a clear destination in mind. When his increasingly frequent, and progressively longer, sojourns into the city had begun shortly after he had located Quinn, he had accepted Isabella's offer of a vehicle to travel in each direction. But, after a close call involving a hoodlum following him back to her estate, he had increasingly sought to create a layer of separation between his friends and his mission. He justified, somewhat lamely in his opinion, his trips into the city as his 'training': opportunities to do some good for the citizens of lower income areas while honing his skills and learning how to use the 'gifts' (if indeed the changes to his body as a result of the Conditioning could be called that) bestowed upon him. Over the course of five weeks, he had foiled dozens of crimes and instilled something between a healthy respect and a legitimate fear in the minds of the local criminal population.

The impact of his activities was immediately recognizable. The local news had figured out the relationship between the hostage rescue and the dramatic fall off in petty crime, having even gone to the lengths of assigning him a moniker. The effort had been minimal on their part, the legions of either intentionally or inadvertently hobbled criminals being all too willing to point the finger in the direction of the mysterious seemingly bulletproof man who spoke with a strange accent. He ignored them for the most part, staying in the shadows during his training and spending the dwindling remainder of his time holed up in Isabella's villa.

The reason for his tendency to spend more time away from the house was at once simplistic and maddening. Both Quinn and Isabella claimed they harbored him no ill will for their transformations. The two had even become quite friendly, with the latter hiring the former to build her an app to help manage her veritable empire of low-to-middle-income apartment buildings. But no matter how frequently they told him his apologies were unnecessary, or how often his logical mind pointed out that he had no rational basis for his guilt, he could not bring himself to stop feeling the burden of what he had imposed upon them. Each time he looked upon their undeniably beautiful bodies, he was reminded of his sin. He knew staying away was both childish and reductive, but try as he might, he could not force himself to do otherwise.

His travels throughout the crumbling low-income housing yielded few results for the remainder of the evening. He found it necessary to startle a few would-be predators, but the sound of his voice sent them scampering for cover before he had a chance to engage them. As the first hint of sunlight rose above the eastern horizon, he faced a decision between spending another day wandering aimlessly through the city's business district or returning to Isabella's house in hopes of getting some sleep without running into either of the women he had irreversibly transformed without their permission. He ultimately opted for the latter and made for the nearest bus stop as he pulled his hood over his head despite the warm weather.

Six buses and a train later, he exited the mass transit station to find a luxurious, but not ostentatious, car waiting at the curb. He climbed into the back and sank into the seat in hopes of getting some rest during the hour-long journey, but an unexpected voice interrupted his efforts before the car even pulled out into traffic.

"What are you doing, Felix?"

He yanked his hood off and whipped his head around to find Yasmine seated next to him. He barked, "What are you doing here?"

"I asked you first," she replied softly.

He deflated at once and gave his stock answer. "Training."

"For what?"

"For whatever's next. Terrorist attack... natural disaster... international incident."

"What about if a portal opens in the sky and disgorges thousands of aliens hellbent on world domination?"

"That too," he replied without irony.

"Are you serious, right now?" she asked, somewhat more animatedly. "That was some bullshit from a dumb superhero movie."

"Isn't that all I'm good for now?" he replied glumly.

"It will be if that's all you allow yourself to be, you dumb jerk."

"What else is there? I beat up people weaker than me and I inflict irreparable damage on those I care about. Come to think of it, I come much closer to the classic definition of a villain rather than a hero."

"That's such bull!" she snapped angrily.

He glared at her judgmentally and said, "Ok, Madame Scientist. Defend your hypothesis."

"I'm not a scientist," she whispered shyly. "As you well know."

"Whatever," he deflected. "You and I both know the difference between someone with advanced degrees in both applied and theoretical mathematics and someone with a degree in physics is, at most, a handful of classes. You're as well versed in the scientific method as any of your coworkers."

She was silent for several moments before she whispered, "Malice."

"Pardon," he asked, somewhat taken aback.

"You have not, and do not, act with malice. A malefactor does. You could, in fact, form a fairly convincing hypothesis that malice is the fundamental attribute of a villain. And what happened to Quinn and Isabella is in no way evil. Isabella couldn't be happier that she's basically the physical embodiment of sex appeal now."

"You didn't see Quinn's face when I found her. She was devastated by what I did to her."

"No," Yasmine corrected gently. "She was upset, but more at herself than at you."

"How do you figure?"

"She knows you, Felix. Hell, neither of you can deny the fact that you're each other's best friend. She was angry at herself that she initially succumbed to the urge to be mad at you over what happened. She always knew you could never have done that to her intentionally."

"That wasn't self-loathing I saw in her eyes. It was white-hot anger, pure and simple."

"Yeah," Yasmine agreed. "But not at you. I know your life before you came back in time was pretty vanilla..."

"To put it mildly," he interjected glumly.

"I merely meant you've never lived as an adult with a woman, or even had a long-term relationship with one."

"What's your point?"

She smiled wearily and said, "At some point, you'll have to learn the profoundly, fundamentally, important distinction between a woman who is upset, and one who is angry with you. I know she mentioned the camera she found in her office. That had just happened and, when she went to her boss to lodge a complaint, the miserable bastard couldn't bring himself to look her in the eyes."

"Do you think he was the one responsible?" Felix growled.

"I find it unlikely," she replied quickly. "I merely meant he spoke only to her breasts."

"I still think I should crush his testicles."

"You've really got to get over this obsession with maiming people, Felix. It's bound to make people talk."

"You three insisted I not kill anyone," he replied weakly.

"What's wrong with just, I don't know, knocking someone out? It always works in the movies."

"Broken jaws. Concussions. Shattered orbital sockets."

"I get it. My point is, Quinn was upset because the change forced her to reckon with certain realities. With the benefit of hindsight, she can freely admit that her former employers treated her like garbage. What's more, the people she's spoken to since she left made it all too clear just how unwilling that company would have ever been to give her the promotion she had earned. But, as with so many of us, she had been all too content to continue to accept an unhappy situation rather than risk the uncertainty of doing what she knew in her heart to be right. She is immeasurably happier now than she was then. And not just because Isabella is a much better boss. She gets to spend time with friends the likes of which she never had before she met you. At least... she did until you decided you were better off alone.

"It's true. Her appearance did change. As did... other things. But it's all for the better. Can you even imagine what it is like for a modern American woman to suddenly be granted reprieve from all the insecurities and unhappiness our culture heaps upon us? Quinn and Isabella are gorgeous. I know you didn't set out to do this to them, but you've got to dispense with the fiction that you somehow visited an evil upon them."

He was silent for several long moments before finally saying, "I just don't know."

"Do you trust her?"

"I trust all of you," he replied sincerely.

"Then believe her when she tells you, repeatedly, that she does not blame you for this change."

Felix's head sank to his chest before he sighed and said, "Very well." He then turned to his beautiful but perpetually shy companion and said, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Telling me I was being a fool. I'm unsure what I did to deserve having you as a friend, but I'm glad I did it."

A small smile flitted across her face, and she said, "Just promise you'll stop avoiding me."

He gaped at her and said, "I haven't been avoiding you."

"You've been avoiding all of us, Felix. Quinn and Isabella because you feel like you wronged them. And me because..."

"What?" he asked softly as he gazed into her warm brown eyes.

"It's almost as if you think you'll do to me what you did to them if you so much as touch me. I think our hypothesis about this being sexually transmitted is pretty ironclad at this point, considering the number of people you've beaten the crap out of. And none of them transformed."

He reached out to take her hand and said, "I'm sorry, Yasmine. Truly. It was never my intention to make you feel less than the incredible, remarkable, beautiful woman you are." She shrugged shyly, but she did not pull her hand away. He continued, "How can I make it up to you?"

A wisp of a smile flitted across her features as she said, "Well... there is the small matter of the lunch we never got to finish."