“… probably religious, considering the body language. But the big thing this artist was into was how people interpreted her art.”

Tink tried to look attentive even as her eyes were glassing over. While Warrick was describing the painting in terms of contrast and implied meaning; she only saw a conspicuously white room with a pale skinned, white haired woman in a midnight black dress kneeling bedside the white bed, praying. It was photorealistic, but it wasn’t particularly pretty and she didn’t see much in the way of meaning behind it.

Warrick was giving her the tour of the gallery to show off the exhibitions done by some of the senior art students. Having just gotten off work, he was still in his employee uniform while she wore a reasonably modest green dress that laced up in back.

Warrick noticed her boredom and cut himself off before he launched into further detail. “You don’t like it?”

Tink shrugged, “I don’t get it.” She said. “I mean the ‘religious imagery’ and the feelings in the colors… It’s a picture of a woman in a room.”

As the words left her mouth, she saw Warrick deflate a little. “Well, maybe I could show you some of Riley’s stuff. She mostly does abstracts—“

“That’s probably going to make it worse.” Tink tried to give him a reassuring smile but it didn’t seem to help his spirits. “I gave it a shot though. That counts for something right? I mean you gave chess and Mina Trevor books a shot and they weren’t your thing. Art isn’t mine.” She gestured around at the painting in the alcove that held the ‘woman in white room’ picture. “I think it’s pretty cool that you get this stuff; there’s more to you than I even expected—but I… don’t.”

As usual, a speech did more for Warrick’s thoughts than simple gestures. He thrived on exposition. He gave her a small smile in return. “You’re right. Hey, we still have plenty in common, right?”

“Plenty.” She got up and rewarded his positive mood with a kiss. “And I don’t mind you trying to expand my horizons. Before we started going out, I pretty much kept to myself except for extracurriculars to pad my college applications. Speaking of which…” She sighed, running a hand through her copper hair while looking around the gallery, “ I’d better scratch ‘Art Analysis’ off my class load this summer.”

It took a moment for Warrick to process what she’d just said. Words that had meaning individually to him had just been presented in a completely alien and abhorrent context. Class load? Summer? His vocalization was only slightly more articulate than his train of thought. “Wait. What? Classes… in the summer?”

“I told you; I’m taking college credit courses.”

“I thought you meant Advanced classes once we get back to school.”

“I’m taking those too; we’re in the same Advanced Chemistry class. But I’m also taking advantage of Dayspring’s credit courses for the summer session. They’re really cheap for locals and Dayspring is impressive enough that taking them should really win me points at Cambridge.”

That wasn’t much of a surprise, all told. Most of Tink’s high school and even the later part of her middle school career was centered on her goal of attending the Colleges at Cambridge University. She wanted to go where her most admired scholars throughout history had gone.

Warrick gave her the understanding smile she’d come to know well. “So, how many classes are you taking?”

“Not counting the art class I just dropped in my head? Five.” She held out her open palm, ticking down fingers as she listed them. “Two during the day all week, a Monday, Wednesday, Friday night class, a Tuesday-Thursday night class and Introduction to Biomechanics on the weekends.” A proud smile stamped itself on her face. It had taken some doing to get into that last class, what with the wannabe spark-jockeys clamoring to get into it.

“Oh.” Warrick’s smile faded as he did the math regarding Tink’s study time. “So… you’re not going to…”

Tink finally understood. She hadn’t considered the ramifications of her packed schedule on her newfound social life. She picked up on his train of thought instantly. “… not going to be free during most of your time off here.” she finished for him.

The pair stood a silent moment in the gallery alcove, contemplating the space between them, literally and metaphorically.

“We’ll think of something.” Tink finally said, “I mean my night classes let out at ten. Plenty of time to go out and do something, right?”

They never stayed out much later then midnight in the past. Partly because Tink hadn’t gotten around to discussing the damper her curfew put on her with her parents, and partly because Warrick never bought it up because it gave him an excuse to disappear and go on patrol as Alloy. Something would have to give.

“Right.” Warrick lied. “but still, I think we should make the most of it before your classes start. When do they start?”

“Next week.” Tink said guiltily.

Warrick swallowed. He wasn’t expecting that. “Next—Okay, so we need to do something this week. Something big and special; just the two of us.” As he spoke, he got excited over it without even knowing what he was proposing and it showed in his voice.

“You sound like you’ve got something in mind.” Tink smiled, caught up in her boyfriend’s exuberance.

Too far gone to allow himself to stop and think, Warrick grinned and nodded. “I sure do!” he lied again. Something clicked in his head. He really did have a place in mind and it had been on his mind since he and the others had gone to rescue Joy Duvall from Project Tome. “How about the beach?”

“That’s a great idea…” The fire in her eyes dimmed as suddenly as it had been ignited. Something had occurred to her. “But how do we get there? You don’t have a car and mine’s not going to be street legal or at least a few weeks more.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Warrick pulled out his cell phone in a flourish. “I’ve got connections.”

Alexis hunched over the kitchen table across from Laurel, pouring over the proposal for the school they were putting together to present to Vincent Liedecker. It had taken two weeks and the intervention of William Brant, but they finally had an appointment with the man himself the following week and they had no intention of failing.

“I’m not saying you’re not qualified.” Laurel was saying, “God knows that I know you’re very qualified, but it’s his building and probably his capital involved in this; he’s going to want to staff it with his own people. I don’t think he’ll really accept you as Director.”

“And if he’s got trustworthy, experienced people, I won’t have any objections.” Alexis countered, “But I kind of doubt he does; at least not the ‘experienced’ part. He may be a good businessman and big into charity, but there’s no reason to assume he knows anything about teaching.”

Laurel cracked a smile. “You may want to avoid saying that when we go into the meeting.” She shrugged to herself, “I’ll leave that part in, but what I’m saying is that you shouldn’t get your hopes up.”

“I won’t.” Alexis assured her.

“Evening, ladies.” Ian entered from the downstairs commons with an amused grin on his face. “I just got a phone call and you’re not going to believe what it was about.”

“Sister Ann Marie wants you to help out with something at St. Drausinus again?” Alexis asked.

“The wife and child you’ve hidden from us all these years finally caught up to you?” Laurel smirked as Alexis tossed a handful of scrap paper at her. “Seriously, what’s up?”

Ian took a seat between the two. “It seems that one of Freeland House’s sainted sons wants to borrow my car to take his girlfriend to the beach.”

“Really?” It was Laurel’s turn to look amused. “I seem to remember you doing the exact same thing at his age.” At the mention of that episode, Ian started fidgeting in his seat.

“Penny Peterson, wasn’t it?” Alexis asked, her Cheshire grin mirroring Laurel’s. “I remember you begging Laurel all week to lend you her car. I think at one point, you said something like—“

“But Penny might be the one!” Laurel imitated a young Ian badly and melodramatically.

“She better not be anymore.” Alexis threw a fake glare in Ian’s direction and his reaction sent both women into a fit of giggles.

After she recovered herself, Alexis got up and put an arm around him. “Aw, poor Ian. All these years and you’re still so easy to tease.” With a subtle movement, she pushed off him and was back to standing. “It is interesting though…”

Ian raised an eyebrow. “What’s interesting?”

“A teenaged boy, going on his first long distance date with a girl…” Alexis mused as she plucked an apple from the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter, absently polishing it with the hem of her shirt as she continued, “And out of three adults with cars to borrow, does he ask the one with the slick, silver SUV?” She inclined her head at Laurel, “Or the chick magnet convertible? Or the guy with the family man, workhorse sedan?” She punctuated this by crunching loudly into the apple.

“Maybe—“ Ian started.

“Alex is right.” Laurel smiled and leaned back in her seat. “And you know why, right, Ian?” When he couldn’t answer, she supplied the answer for him. “He looks up to you. He sees you as a mentor, like he did with the Whitecoat.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Ian scoffed. “He probably just figured you guys would need your cars; going to all these meetings and all, that’s all. Or maybe he wants to take some of his other friends along and needs the—“

“SUV.” Laurel pointed out.

“… room.” Ian finished lamely. “Okay, not that one. But the other one, most defiantly.”

“Why does that bug you so much?” Alexis asked, “I’d be flattered if one of the kids took to me like Warrick does with you or Cyn does with Laurel.”

“You said it yourself…” Ian said, keeping his gaze on the table. “The kid’s got parents, real ones. And a real mentor on top of it. It’s not my place to butt in.”

“That’s a pretty poor excuse.” Laurel’s tone was sympathetic. “We’ve been through a lot together; not just living together, but nearly dying together more times than is really healthy. It’s natural that we start behaving more like a family toward one another. We’re not a replacement family; just an extended one.”

There was no arguing with that, not at Ian didn’t want to try. “I still don’t think that’s the case here.”

Laurel rolled her eyes. “Be that as it may; if you don’t believe he’s looking up to you, maybe you can learn something from him.” Both Ian and Alexis looked at her askance. “Take your girlfriend on a vacation.”

“But we’ve got—“Alexis started, but was quickly shushed by a gesture from Laurel.

“But nothing. I’m pretty much a living computer. I think I can handle some paperwork by my lonesome. I’ll even look up a nice, out of the way beach for you to go to so you won’t be disturbed.”

Alexis looked forlornly past her apple to her laptop where the proposal sat, only partially written. Her eyes strayed from it to Ian’s hopeful eyes and finally to Laurel’s face. The expression she found there told her in no uncertain terms that the punishment for non-compliance would be one of Laurel’s patented Endless Lectures.

“What the hell?” She finally relented more cheerfully than she wanted to admit.

“That’s all they could talk about while Warrick was getting his things from the desk.” Juniper recounted earlier events as Cyn, Kay and Adel looked on. Lisa and JC were at the other end of the table, trying to decide which of them picked the movie they would be seeing later. The entire group (sans Warrick and Tink) had convened at the Dungeon to laze away the last few hours of daylight before getting on with whatever other activities they had planned for the night.

“Can you believe Tink’s never been to the beach before?” She sighed at her own memories of warm sand and bright sun. “Can you imagine never having gone to the beach as a kid?”

“I can.” Cyn shrugged, “And we didn’t even live that far from Nag’s Head.”

Juniper frowned. “You never got to go? Oh, that’s just horrible.”

“Not getting to go this time either.” Cyn rolled her eyes, “And what’s the point? We’ve got a pool at home. And a lake. We can have our own beach party at the lake shore. It’s not like we need Warrick and Tink there.”

“No one said we did.” Kay pointed out. “But the lake’s not the same as the beach; no salt air, no seagulls to harass, no hot guys in trunks and Speedos…”

“We could totally throw a party and invite some guys.” Cyn said.

“On such short notice?” Juniper asked.

“Well, no, but we could. We could do it next week!”

“No can do, Cyn.” Kay shook her head. “My mom’s going to be back in town and me and dad are spending as much time as possible with her next week. What we could do, see, is go to the beach this weekend. I mean, none of us have any plans, right?”

“I certainly don’t. And I’m sure, you don’t Cyn.” That earned Juniper a glare.

“How about you two?” Kay asked JC and Lisa who had finally started paying attention to the conversation.

“I think it’s a slick idea.” JC said, “I’m kind of surprised Warrick came up with it before I did, actually: We really need to do something out of town this summer, we didn’t get to do anything really last summer.”

“Yeah, count me in.” Lisa said. “Hey, Kay, how about we bring our instruments and see if we can convince some seaside café to let Snackrifice play?”

“Now that is a great idea!” Kay beamed.

“How about you, Adel?” Juniper asked as the others began jabbering among themselves and making plans.

“Can’t.” he said, giving her an apologetic look. “Babysitting.”

“Oh.” Juniper said sadly. Adel took turns with his older brother taking care of their twin younger brothers while their parents worked nights. “I understand. Maybe we can go to Ozzie’s when I get back.”

“Sure.” Adel nodded.

Back in the main conversation, Kay declared the consensus of the rest of the group. “It’s settled! And I know just the place we can go: my parents and I used to go there all the time when I was little.”

-- • --

Following the incident with Thunderhead, Laurel had asked General Pratt to arrange for the Descendants to acquire the neural stimulant chips used to protect the guards at the Braddock Island correctional facility from inmates with mentalist powers.

As it turned out, the chips were only one half of a regimen of mental training and conditioning. The other half was conducted by government employed mentalists and without it, the chips were useless. Luckily, Kareem was more than willing to assist in recreating the regimen, which doubled as a way of learning more about his own capabilities.

The day after collaborating with the others on taking their own beach trip, Cyn found herself having more trouble than usual blocking the scripted mental intrusions from Kareem.

“Is something wrong?” Kareem asked. They were sitting on cushions laid out on the floor of the upstairs commons. As was usual for the start of these sessions, Kareem had projected himself onto the physical plane to take advantage of the boost he gained in his abilities in that state. After only a month of sessions, he was able to remain physical for as long as four minutes. “Am I intruding in places I shouldn’t? I cannot always control what parts of a mind I touch.”

Cyn shifted from a kneeling position to a more comfortable cross-legged one. “You’re a bad liar, Kareem.” She continued trying to concentrate on the faint feelings and recognitions Kareem’s presence in her subconscious dredged up so she could concentrate on them and in turn lock Kareem away from them, as was the point of the training. “You know what I was thinking about.” Her tone wasn’t accusing; in fact it was more teasing than anything.

“The beach trip?” Kareem asked innocently. “It sounds like you will all have an enjoyable time. I’m to understand you’ll be standing in for Adel Miller as Snackrifice’s drummer? I should like to hear that.”

“If I was playing, you wouldn’t.” Cyn smirked. “But Kay’s going to be my Cyrano for that. I’m just space filler at the drums.”

“Still, I think it’s exciting. Why haven’t you told Warrick at least where you’re going? I think he’d like to see the show.” He was very careful not to include Tink in his statement.

“Oh no.” Cyn put up her hands and at the same time displayed incredibly mental acuity in pushing Kareem’s mind away. “We’re not doing that. I don’t want to know where he and copper top are going and I don’t want him to know where we’re going. It’s better this way.”

“I’m not sure I follow.” Kareem admitted, resuming his mental assault. “How could your best friend not knowing where you are be better?”

Physically flinching under the force of the renewed mental assault, Cyn knitted her brows and set to work trying to close off the mental breeches that were being opened. “Not him, me. I know myself and if I knew where they’d be, I wouldn’t be able to resist dropping by. And you know Warrick, he wouldn’t object and he’d let me totally ruin his date.”

“You wouldn’t—“ Kareem began.

“Oh yeah, I would.” Cyn confirmed. “I don’t think I’d mean to, but I would. Just like back when Liz asked him to the LoA concert.” She put out a hand to steady herself as a wave of dizziness hit her. The combination of having a largely distributed nervous system as well as incredibly fine control of her cells on both a conscious and unconscious level proved to be problematic when she trained with Kareem. Consciously trying to isolate areas of her mind often caused her body to physically isolate the cells where that area currently resided, resulting in dizzy spells until the problem corrected itself.

She waved Kareem off as he moved to help her and sat up. “Anyway, I’m not going to let myself do that again. If Warrick likes Christina Carlyle, it’s not my place to interfere. I’m his friend and I’ll stand by him. Even if it means, you know… not standing by him.” She smiled one of her patented mischievous smiles. “Frankly, it’s the only way I’ll learn. And this way, maybe I’ll meet a hot guy at the beach to take my mind off him.”

“I know you’re resisting, Cyn, but I don’t feel as much jealousy as you’re proscribing to yourself.” Kareem said.

“I’ve had time to think about it.” She shrugged. “Anyway, speaking of jealous, what about you?”

The mental intrusion faltered. “Me?”

“As in how Melissa’s been going out with Terry pretty much every other night since the start of summer? Don’t tell me that doesn’t bother you.”

“I could not tell you otherwise, Cyn.” Said Kareem, resuming the attack with slightly less intensity. “I am happy for Melissa. She is finally adjusting to the consequences of her being suspended.”

“I know I’m not.” Cyn said playfully to avoid pointing out Kareem’s own circumstances. “I’d be nineteen and allowed to buy beer if it wasn’t for Tome’s monkeying with us.”

“I was under the impression…”

“I know. I can’t. But I’d still be able to buy it, and it’s the principle of the thing.” Cyn shrugged. “Anyway, I wouldn’t bet too much on Melissa getting over anything. I guess you haven’t had a chance to learn anything about him, but Terry is Captain Retro; if it’s from the fifties or sixties, he’s into it. It’s as close to dating someone from back before she was put in stasis without raiding grad schools.”

“I think you should give her more credit than that.” Kareem’s projected form began to fade, though he didn’t allow that to interrupt his mental attack.

“Maybe, but mostly I think she’s using him to ditch the rest of us.” Cyn gave a dismissive wave at an imaginary Melissa, “To hell with her though. I’m going to thoroughly enjoy this weekend and she’s not going to bring me down.”

Fresh salt air blew in from the sea as Warrick stood on the beach, looking out over the waves. It was a nice spot, without far fewer tourists than one might expect but still hardly a hidden and private getaway spot.

“So,” Tink said airily “Here we are.” Warrick turned to look at her as she reclined under their beach umbrella, sporting a black bikini.

“Yup.” Warrick sat down on the blanket beside her. “Here we are.” He rummaged through the bag they’d bought and came up with a bottle of sunscreen. Pretending to read the instructions on the label, he cast a side long glance at Tink. Obvious and clichéd thoughts swam in his head. “Uh… do you think you need me to—“ The rest of his words were drowned out by the roar of the ocean increasing in volume to unreal levels.

They both looked toward the sea. The tide was coming in. Only it was coming in ahead of a massive swell of water that rose like a large hillock, pushing swimmers and wakeboarders aside. Soon, the water parted from the domed back of the creature it concealed.

A great crab, as big as a supermarket and easily four stories tall rose up on spindly legs. Its claws waved, throwing salt spray in clouds ahead of it as it waded ashore.

“Holy shit!” Exclaimed Warrick, the sunscreen forgotten.

“What is that thing?” Tink asked, craning her head to see the gargantuan crustacean fully.

“I don’t think we’ve got time to find out.” Warrick got to his feet and offered her his hand to help her up. Beachgoers were taking to their heels before the behemoth crab. “You’ve got to get out of here.”

“Me?” Tink said as Warrick pulled her to her feet. “What about you?”

“I’ll be right behind you.” he lied. Someone had to deal with the monster and make sure it didn’t hurt anyone.

“Oh no.” Tink said firmly. “I’m not leaving without you. I couldn’t stand it if you got hurt trying to look macho protecting me.”

“This isn’t about looking macho.” Warrick’s agitation showed in his voice. “This is for your own…” he trailed off as a shadow fell over the both of them. He looked up in time to see the claw swing down and bat him aside, sending him tumbling across the sand.

Spitting out grit, he came up to a knee in time to see the claw snatch Tink around the waist with unnatural care and nimbleness and lift her into the air. “No!” He shouted. All concern for the consequences of his actions fled before a single overwhelming need: he had to save her.

The act of will that drove his powers became instinct, reflex. The sleeves of his shirt shredded as Isp and Osp uncoiled from the orihalcite circlets her wore on his arms. They didn’t need to be told what needed to be done. Isp formed into a harpoon and projected itself into the more lightly armored joint where the two halves of the monstrous claw met and swung Warrick airborne. At the same time, Osp split down its center and lashed up between the pincers. Two opposite flanges powered outward to drive the claw open.

The maneuver worked and Tink fell free, falling directly into Warrick’s waiting arms. A quick tentacle-enabled swing later and they were on the ground.

“Get down!” Warrick ordered. This was one of those situations where it was perfectly acceptable not to be polite, he decided.

“Wha—how did—“ Tink managed before stumbling to her knees.

“Later.” Warrick said, his voice strained. His powers were in overdrive. The monster had singled Tink out specifically and just freeing her wouldn’t stop it. The sand boiled around him, flowing upward to form steel armor around him. This shouldn’t be working. A voice in his head muttered. A sword exploded from the sand before him, hilt first so he could draw it effortlessly.

Why aren’t the boys saying anything? Isp? Osp? The tentacles didn’t answer his mental prompting. The sand forged steel filled his hands as Alloy hefted the sword overhead. The crab raised its claw to smash him.

“Secret Art of the Divinity School: Shooting Star No Jutsu!” What the hell? What did I just—Before he could figure out what he was doing, Alloy leapt to meet the rapidly descending claw. I can’t jump like this. And why can’t I sense this sword? Or my armor… or any metal? The general wrongness of everything around him came crashing into the forefront of his mind even as his sword carved clearly through the offending claw.

He was suddenly flying freely through the air, arcing gracefully toward the head of the monster. The sword fell again, bisecting the creature’s face. There was a screaming sound; appropriately enough, like a crab being steamed, and then the entire thing dissolved into black smoke.

So weird… Warrick thought, watching the plume of smoke dissipate. He seriously needed to figure out what was going on. Maybe if he called Laurel she could figure something out… The sound of someone clearing their throat made him turn around.

Tink was standing there. At some point in the confusion, she had found time to put on jeans, though she still wore the bikini top. She was looking at him like he was from another planet. “Y-you…”

Warrick sighed. “Yeah. I’m Alloy. I know it’s pretty shocking, and maybe you think I should have told you, but you’ve got to understand… look if we go back to Freeland House—“ He reached out to put a hand on her shoulder but she pulled away.

“No.” She said, more defiant than he’d ever seen her. “No, I’m not going anywhere with you. This…” She gestured between the two of them. “This is over.”

Breath caught in Warrick’s throat. “No, please. Tink, wait.”

“No!” She shouted. “I’m not going to stand by and watch you get yourself killed or worse. I’m not going to just grin and bear it because you need to break a date to save the city. It’s over, Warrick, Alloy, whichever you are.” Tears formed in her eyes, but they weren’t normal tears, they were liquid silver. As she backed up, the metal spread out, forming a second skin. In the space of a breath, she was completely ensconced. “All things considered,” She said, gesturing to her suddenly mercurial skin. “It probably wouldn’t have worked out anyway.”

“Gah!” Warrick’s eyes snapped open. It didn’t help matters that the first things he saw upon waking were the liquid metal forms of Isp and Osp watching him with apparent concern. A moment of utter panic gripped him before a pair of voices managed to cut through the fog. “Yes, I know I was dreaming.” He groaned in response to the tentacles.

He hauled himself up to sitting against the headboard and got his bearings by casting around the room with his metal sense. “Yeah, you guys would like her better all metal…y.” More silent jabbering from Isp. “No, there are no ‘nice metal girls’. No, I can’t make one.” The full ramifications of that last suggestion shocked him to full wakefulness. “No, just no. Even if I could, it’d be like a sister to you guys, who would be like a… Okay, I’m not talking about this with you guys anymore. You liked Tink until two minutes ago.”

His clock said it was a quarter to six, but there was no way he’d be able to get to sleep again after that nightmare, so he got up and went to his computer. The tentacles continued to mentally pester him. “No, you guys can’t meet her yet. Why? Because it’d give away the whole secret ID thing, don’t you think? Everyone knows Alloy was metal tentacles—Because you guys don’t need codenames, that’s why.”

Letting loose a long yawn, he logged onto his Deathgate account, selected his level forty Champion of Valor, Rock Steelfist, from the Character Bay, and set about hunting wyverns to collect the skins needed to earn his first tier stronghold.

“It’s not like this is the weirdest dream I’ve had.” He said to no one in particular. Isp and Osp were too distracted watching the action on the computer screen to continue badgering him, or listen to him at all for that matter. “Remember the one I keep having where I’m fighting giant robots with the electric guy, the flying chick with the shield and the psychotic little girl with claws? This dream was tame by comparison, right?”

On screen, a wyvern writhed under the effects of his Blazing Glory attack, too blinded to dodge the killing blow from Rock’s Hammer of Justice. With a final shriek and a death rattle, the creature’s ruin was smote upon the mountainside. Enamored with the graphics, the twins were in no condition to reassure him.

I said RIGHT? Warrick telegraphed the thought directly too them. Isp turned toward him and undulated in what was most certainly a shrug. “You guys are so helpful.” He sighed. “But hey, I’ve got nothing to worry about, right? Tink wouldn’t act like that. And it’s not like she’s going to find out… not yet at least. Going out for less than half a year isn’t enough to justify putting myself and Alloy on the line. Plus, there aren't really giant crabs like that.”

Isp shrugged again and split into five finger like segments, each of which began hitting keys on the keyboard. A browser window opened in the upper right hand corner of the game window and quickly went to the Factopia.know website. A few more keystrokes brought up the page for Mutants_(phenomena). Osp got in on the act and worked the mouse to scroll down to an image of a six foot spider that had been killed in Atlanta by the prelate Rapscallion.

For a moment, Warrick sat and stared. He knew the article and had read it front and back in case any laboratory bred mutants attacked Mayfield. Back in the game, Rock turtled behind his shield to block attacks from a trio of wyverns he’d blundered into thanks to Warrick being distracted.

Shaking his head, he banished the Factopia page with a keystroke and set about introducing the monsters to the Hammer of Justice. “Seriously guys,” He settled back into the game. “Stop trying to freak me out. Today’s going to go off without a hitch. Nothing’s going to mess up this day.” Building his own confidence, he scoffed. “There’s not even any mention of crabs on that page.”

-- • --

This time it was real. Or at least Warrick really and truly hoped so. He didn’t recall nodding off but he probably wouldn’t remember if he did. It certainly felt real; none of those nagging thoughts were popping up like last time and Tink was remaining firmly flesh and blood.

Speaking of which, he found himself thinking as he pulled into an empty space overlooking the boardwalk and the beach beyond, he didn’t think he’d ever be so thankful to see a woman not in a bikini. Tink wore a red, sleeveless halter that looked more at home in a gym than a beach, and while she did have on a bikini bottom, it was mostly concealed by a gauzy, black wrap around that was arranged to expose one thigh. Part of him mourned the lack of the black bikini (literally) of his dreams, but the vast majority of his mind thought she was still beautiful, no matter what she wasn’t not wearing. A tiny minority quibbled over the double negative and completely missed the point.

“So, Dawson Bay,” Tink was looking excitedly out over the water. “It’s beautiful; so different than going to one of the lakes.” Her look became puzzled as she continued surveying the area. “But why aren’t there more people here? Granted, I’ve never been, but aren’t beaches in the summer usually a lot more crowded?”

“That’s the beauty of this place;” Warrick explained, picking up the brochure he’d downloaded from the bay’s website. Immediately, the ‘active ink’ technology imbedded therein came to life, displaying a fuzzy doppelganger to the view they were getting at the moment, along with the legend: ‘Dawson Bay: Come Start a Tradition’. “Its only been around for two years. No one’s heard about it.”

The bay was the former site of a naval yard and testing ground, long since removed to an artificial island several miles off the coast, or so said the pamphlet. Warrick let Tink take the high tech advertisement and thumb through using the navigation along the bottom.

“So what do we do first?” Warrick asked as they got out of the car. Tink was still reviewing the bay’s many supposed attractions as she slung her bag over one shoulder.

“I don’t know. A lot of this stuff costs and you’re still saving for your car…” The redhead said, still engrossed in what she was seeing.

“This is like our last big date before your classes eat you.” Warrick shrugged, “I’m willing to put up some cash for that.”

“But I’m not willing to let you.” she smiled back.

Warrick playfully raised an eyebrow. “And what if I want to do something that costs? Are you going to stop me then?”

Tink hid the brochure behind her back as proof against him peeking despite the fact that he’d certainly already been through it front to back. “Okay, what do you want to do?”

“You pick.” Warrick said in his best sly voice.

“That’s not going to work, bucko.” Tink laughed, “No tricking me into making you waste your car money.”

Warrick stuck his tongue out at her. “Fine. Paragliding.”

Tink gave him a disbelieving look. “Seriously? I wouldn’t have taken you as a guy that likes heights.”

“Like ‘em? I love ‘em.” Warrick recalled many happy days reaching the very tops of both New York and Mayfield. “It’s a New York thing, you can’t live around all those skyscrapers and skywalks without loving it. You’d go nuts.”

“I can’t say I’m really on board with trusting a boat to let us fly, but what the hell; let’s do it. And in the meantime…” She reached into her bag and produced what looked like an antique cellular phone; an eight by four inch brick, with its circuitry in the outside.

“What’s that?” He’d learned never to assume anything when it came to the things Tink cobbled together in her basement. His metal sense picked up several highly magnetic materials in addition to the circuitry, which made him all the more curious.

“A metal detector—my own special design of course.” Tink grinned. “After all, this place used to be a naval base, right?” Warrick snorted in spite of himself. A packrat was a packrat, no matter where you took her. Tink seemed to read his mind, “I promise I’ll only take an hour, tops. I swear.”

“It’s no problem with me.” Warrick shrugged. We’ve got hours of fun in the sun. And the moon. Your dad did say we only had to be back by one after all.”

Tink’s eyes flicked up at the sun, which wouldn’t be at its apogee for a while yet. “Right… the sun…” Her hand darted into her bag. “First thing’s first then; this Irish lass doesn’t want to burn up into haggis.”

A chill ran up Warrick’s spine and came face to face with a twinge of teenage excitement. It didn’t even know what hit it. A lifetime of movies and TV had trained him well and he knew exactly what was coming next. The question was how to approach it. She would, of course ask him to rub some on her back and he had to be careful not to make too big a deal of it. Still, it was kind of an intimate moment and…

Tink uncapped the lotion bottle, reached back—and spritzed a fine mist of sunblock on her own back, before going on to do the same to the rest of her exposed skin. If one could listen very closely, they could probably have heard the tragic derailing of Warrick’s train of thought.

Oblivious to Warrick’s inner turmoil, Tink offered the bottle to him. “Want some? This stuff is way easier to put on than the other.”

“Y-yeah, thanks.” Warrick said, accepting the container. The label read ‘SpraeBlock – No Hassle Sun Screen’. He wondered what TV shows the people at SpraeBlock had been watching while he was applying the thin spray to himself. The bottle disappeared back into Tink’s bag and she led the way down the incline to the boardwalk.

“So we know what each of us wants to do,” Tink turned to face him at the bottom of the ramp, fingers interlaced behind her head, “And plenty of time to do it! What do you want to do first?”

A sound roused Ian from a deep, comfortable sleep. Even before he opened his eyes, he could tell that he wasn’t in his room, as he could feel the sun on his face. His room at Freeland House was arranged in such a way that the sun never reached that far.

Opening his eyes, the view of a fancy looking chandelier told him that this was indeed not his beautiful house. But upon turning his head to the side, he did see his beautiful girlfriend. She was sitting at a table, hunched over her computer. The sound of her typing had been the noise that awakened him.

Now he remembered; they had gone out to dinner the night before and on a lark, he’d suggested they get a jump on their private weekend. Surprisingly, Alexis had agreed. Ian smiled to himself, praising his persuasiveness. It had been a good night.

Alexis wasn’t so engrossed in whatever she was doing to miss him staring at her. “Good morning, handsome.”

“It’s really still morning? We were up pretty late last night.” Ian grinned sleepily.

“It’s before noon at least; half gone eleven.” Alexis laughed musically. The vacation was doing the trick already, he saw. Of course, there was the matter of what she was doing on the computer…

“There’s an eleven in the morning now?” He joked, swinging his legs out of bed.

“Also a ten.” Alexis replied.

“You’ve been up since then?”

“I didn’t want to wake you.”

“So what’re you working on?” Ian asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

Alexis glanced nervously at the computer. “Yeah, well…”

“Alexis…” Ian chided, getting up with all the grace of a newborn colt. “You promised both me and Laurel you wouldn’t do any work this weekend.” He put his arms around her from behind and planted a light kiss on her cheek. “Come on, you know Laurel will be able to sort all of this out; she’s never promised something she can’t deliver. Meanwhile, you and I have waves and sand calling our names.”

Saving her work, Alexis reluctantly closed the computer and took Ian’s arms in her own. “When did you get so persuasive?”

“I’ve always been persuasive.” Ian joked, “You’re usually just hard headed.”

“I just can’t stop thinking about everything. Do you think the kids will be okay?”

With a sigh, Ian disengaged from their embrace. “Positive.” He said sullenly. “Warrick’s on his big date with Tina, Melissa is doing some film festival thing with that chunky boy she’s been hanging out with, and Jun and Cyn are doing the beach thing with the usual suspects. Any danger they’ll get into this weekend will be teenaged danger, not superhero danger.”

Alexis grabbed his arm and draped it over her shoulder. “You’re probably right. I just don’t like us all being so separated like this.”

Ian snorted and hugged her. “Honey, all things considered, it’s probably a very good thing that they’re apart right now. Trust me.”

She craned her neck to smile at him upside down. “I trust you. And I promise to lighten up, okay?”

“Okay.” Ian planted an inverted kiss on her forehead. “So, how do we start the day? I’m thinking drop a little money at the casino, then some sun and surf? I saw a board rental place when we were driving in last night.”

That made Alexis scoff. “Like you’re going to surf. Remember senior trip in Miami?”

“Things are different now.” Ian sniffed, “For example, I know how to swim. And I don’t have to impress you anymore. At least I hope not.”

“You were doing that to impress me?” Alexis gave him a disbelieving look. “You almost got yourself killed!”

“But I did get mouth to mouth from a hot lifeguard.”

Alexis cracked a grin and playfully swatted him in the arm. “She used a resuscitation machine.”

“The kiss of life is the kiss of life.”

“Cool, a penny arcade with vintage 2050’s games.” Tink’s eyes flitted from machine to machine as she and Warrick stepped out of the sun and into the retro gaming den’s gaudy sea of flashing lights.

“I don’t get why they still call them ‘penny arcades’ when they cost two bucks even back then.” Warrick mused, eyeing an original Alien Puncher Virtual cabinet in the corner. “Holy crap, Alien Puncher!”

“Alien Puncher?” Tink found herself suddenly being dragged toward it.

“It’s the great granddaddy of free motion capture games.” Warrick said, entranced. “Before that, you had to buy and wear a fully capture suit to play one of these things. But not Alien Puncher.”

“I don’t see the big deal.” Tink frowned, “There’s more involved MC games at the Dungeon and… well it looks kind of cheesy.”

Warrick produced a fist full of tokens from his pockets. “I played it once at a con in Jersey; it’s the most fun thing you can ever play. It’s like Deathgate and Overpowered III had a baby and that baby was born playing electric guitar and wearing a Viking helmet.”

“I’m going to give it a try…” Tink said slowly, “but you are the guy that spent fifty dollars playing a ballroom dancing machine.”

“Hey, that was just for the dance!” Warrick protested. “I mean to learn to dance!”

“Still, fifty bucks.” Tink teased.

Warrick stepped up onto the scanner platform. “Seriously, my explaining it doesn’t do it justice. Just check it out.” He put a few tokens into the slot and it suddenly hummed to life.

The air around them wavered as the extremely primitive holography powered up, producing a star field and a gigantic flying saucer which they seemed to be panning toward.

“In twenty-seventy, aliens came.” An all too serious voice declared as the two teens passed by the saucer to find Earth beyond it, surrounded by saucers.

“Kind of dated.” Tink snarked.

“They were the Brutonians: an ancient race of warriors who scour the Universe for the best fighters. Their declaration was simple: Only the strong will be allowed to live. And the strongest should rule. Earth’s scientists realized that there was one hope: defeat the Brutonian leaders in hand to hand combat, rule the Brutonians and declare Earth free. You –“The voice cut oddly for a single word, “TWO—have been chosen. Go forth, confront the aliens and punch them!”

“That was so chees— whoa!” Tink threw herself down as a big, blue fist came at her from the right.

“Combat one!” The announcer’s voice said, “Fight!”

“I think the recording is out of synch.” Warrick offered, dodging another blow from the digital Brutonian and offering Tink a hand up.

She looked past him with a death glare aimed at the holographic monster. “You bastard.” She snarled, lashing out with a kick to the thing’s knee. A split second later, the Brutonian recoiled as if struck and hobbled backward.

“Uh… yeah!” Warrick said, rounding on the thing. “You bastard!” He delivered an uppercut that dazed the thing and looked over into Tink’s smiling face. They nodded to one another and delivered their next blows simultaneously to the alien’s chest, sending it reeling. When it reached the edge of the hologram, it gave a delayed scream before dissolving into nothingness.

“Combat one! Clear!” the announcer said after several seconds of silence. “Loading combat two. Please wait.”

“Okay, I’ll admit that was pretty cool.” Tink said.

“That was just level one.” Warrick grinned, putting up his dukes for the next assault.

“I still don’t get why they call ‘em penny arcades. Who uses pennies?”

Warrick froze in place. He knew that voice, but there was no way he could be here. No one knew where he and Tink were going; he’d made sure of that and for some reason, Cyn had made doubly sure…

“Aren’t we supposed to be looking for sunscreen?” Another very familiar voice asked.

“Warrick,” Tink said, oblivious to what was going on outside the game, “I think it’s about to start.”

“Hey, is that a—no way, is that you, Kaine?”

Crap.

Warrick wasn’t surprised at all that the moment was punctuated by a big, blue fist streaking toward his face.

-- • --

“Player 1: Defeated!” The announcer’s voice declared seconds after the Brutonian’s fist connected with Warrick, causing the entire hologram to flash red for a moment.

Tink took a swing to avenge him, but the level 2 AI was significantly more responsive and the hologram dodged. As she over extended herself, it brought its fist down on the back of her neck, bringing about another red flash.

“Player 2: Defeated! Insert coins to continue.” A ten second countdown appeared in red above the head of the Brutonian, which was doing a ridiculous victory dance.

“That was actually kind of fun up until we got beaten by a cabbage patching monster.” Tink observed. It was then that she caught sight of what had distracted Warrick. JC and Lisa were standing near the steps leading up onto the platform. JC was shirtless with a set of dark green trunks that were too long for him.

Lisa, the only girl she knew taller than she, was showing off that she was also more curvaceous with a white bikini with a print of tiny, black stars. “What are you guys doing here?” Tink tried to put a pleasant turn in her voice, but it still came out as an indictment.

“That’s a very good question.” Warrick directed a stern look at JC, who had earlier offered to make it a double date so they could wing man for one another.

JC, at least, caught the look and held up his hands defensively. “This is not on purpose, okay? If you remember, we specifically asked you where you were going to make sure this didn’t happen.”

“I was all for that.” Warrick nodded, “But Cyn wouldn’t let us.”

“Wonder why that was?” Lisa muttered with a sly smile and an apologetic look in Tink’s direction. Neither JC nor Warrick caught it and continued on in their own vein.

“There’s like a million beaches at Virginia Beach, what are the chances, really that you guys would just happen to pick the same one we picked?” Warrick asked.

“I don’t know, Cyn said she used a random quintuplet… thing or something?” JC was at a loss; he hadn’t been in on any planning, just eager to pay his gas money for a day of sun, fun and Lisa in a bathing suit.

One of Warrick’s eyebrows shot up with recognition and Tink put two and two together. “Wait, was it Quintillion?”

“Was what Quintillion?” JC blinked.

“The web search Cyn used to find this place.” Tink explained.

“Possibly…”

Tink looked over at Warrick. “Is that how you found this place?”

“I was a little pickier than just randomizing it.” Warrick defended.

“But you still used the randomizer button, right?”

His sideways glance to JC for help that wasn’t forthcoming said it all, but Tink trained a look on him that brought the whole situation bubbling to the surface. “I don’t know anything about picking a place for a vacation,” Warrick admitted, “My mom or my dad always did those kinds of things. And mostly that was doing touristy crap in whatever city dad was recording in.” He stepped to the edge of the platform and took a seat on it. Tink stood beside him. “So, I put in ‘Virginia Beach, boardwalk’, and ‘low traffic’ and picked the first place I found that didn’t have one star or a five digit price tag.”

Tink shook her head and tried to keep from laughing.

“What?” Warrick and JC echoed, looking up at her. JC continued, “So what if they used the same search engine? It’s random!”

“Guys, Quintillion’s randomizer isn’t actually random; it’s weighted by search data. Anyone that put in the same general search would get the same results.” Tink’s grin faltered when no one else seemed to think it was so funny. “I read about it in May’s Datastream Monthly.”

“Huh.” JC frowned. “Anyway, none of it’s my fault either way, so there we go.”

Lisa gave Tink a sympathetic glance and took JC by the arm. “Come on, let’s leave these two alone. We can try some of this stuff out later. We’re supposed to be getting sunscreen anyway.” She practically dragged JC away.

Tink bit her lip and looked down at Warrick, who was slowly getting to his feet. She made a decision. “Uh, you guys say you need sunscreen?” She called after them.

Surprised, Lisa was slow to turn around. “Uh, yeah? Yeah! Well, see, Cyn brought some, but then she used it all on herself, so… yeah. We were hurrying because Juniper just plopped herself down on the sand and started sunning with no protection whatsoever and she’s pretty fair skinned, so she’ll cook like a steak.” She punctuated the flood of words with a nervous giggle. She knew that she and JC showing up had gone completely against the purpose of Tink and Warrick’s day together and the fact that Tink hadn’t taken the easy out had thrown her into a very awkward position.

“You can use mine.” Said Tink, reaching into her bag. “I bought a lot because—yeah, the cook like a steak thing.” She came down off the platform and offered it to JC, who was closer.

He glanced at it. “SpraeBlock, spray on… Wait. What? Spray on sunscreen?” He gave Tink a look as if she were from another planet. “What is—“

“Hey, it that a Wizzzard Hat XTRM machine?” Warrick moved with a quickness he rarely showed to interpose himself between JC and Tink. “Sorry, ladies, but this warrants some serious investigation. Doesn’t it JC?”

“Wha?” JC met Warrick’s gaze and immediately knew not to argue. “Yeah, totally. Um… geek stuff. We’ll be doing that. Over there at the video machine… game.” He said dumbly as Warrick hustled him off.

Tink watched them go with clear confusion. “What was that about? Warrick hates the Wizzzard Hat series. He’s got a whole list of jokes making fun of it bookmarked on his computer.”

“Saving JC from making a huge ass out of himself.” Lisa rolled her eyes. “You got the knight errant; I got the comic sidekick.” A satisfied grin crossed her face. “I’d never trade though.”

“I’m not following.” Tink said, “How was JC making and ass of himself this time? What was wrong with the sunscreen? Does he have a problem with the company or something? I mean it’s made in Brazil, but I thought that kind of thing—“

“It’s way dumber than that.” Lisa shook her head. “Our boys over there grew up on TV and movies; you know the kind of stuff.”

“I’m starting to. I didn’t watch that much TV before…”

“Yeah, but you get the idea. Anyway, TV tells them that there are two important things that come with going to the beach with their girlfriend; getting to see her in a swimsuit—“

“Some of us don’t have the figure for it.” Tink said haughtily, looking down at her own outfit.

Lisa snorted, “As if I do. But JC doesn’t seem to mind. Anyway, the other thing is ‘getting to put sunscreen on their girlfriend’s back.”

Tink looked back at her in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right? What’s so special about touching my back? He’s touched my back before.”

“I don’t get it either.” Lisa shrugged, “Maybe it has something to do with the oil or something. But it doesn’t hurt anything, makes them happy and hey, you don’t have to do it yourself. The weird thing though is that in most of the shows they watch, bad things tend to happen to guys putting lotion on a girl’s back. On the last Malady Place beach episode, Renee manifest her body of flame while Tony was trying to do it.”

“My god, how did I not know that?” Tink muttered. “How else am I screwing up?”

Across the room, Warrick and JC reached the Wizzzard Hat XTRM console. “So why are we over here?” JC had the bottle of SpraeBlock still in hand, “And what the hell is this?!”

“That’s why we’re over here.” Warrick said, calmly, putting coins into the machine. “Look, I know, and you know, but Tink doesn’t know and I don’t want her to feel bad about it, okay?”

“How can she not know about that?” JC asked, gesturing with the offending bottle. “I mean how can you grow up in America and not know this stuff? It’s like the basic rules of the beach!”

“Yeah, but Tink wasn’t exactly swimming in pop culture before she met me, okay? She spent most of her time in her basement building stuff and going to demonstrations to figure out how to build other stuff.”

“Isn’t that like half of what the two of you do now?”

“Yeah, but we do it together, man. That’s the point. And I don’t think it’s really fair to yell at her for not watching the right shows.” Warrick said with a warning glance. He mashed buttons at random and tried to drown out the goofy sound effects that were only part of the abysmal gaming experience that was Wizzzard Hat XTRM.

“Still.” JC shrugged, looking sadly at the bottle of sunscreen. “Tough break, man. This must be what dating an Amish girl must be like.”

On screen, there was a sound like a car crash, followed by a cat yowling. “Ho Ho Ho, guess you failed again apprentice.” An elderly sounding voice said from the console. “Try again if you think you can do better.”

“So are we clear now?” Warrick asked.

“Hey, I’m not going to do anything to hurt her; even if you two weren’t going out, Tink’s a pretty cool kid. So we’re clear. And we’ll get the hell out of your way.”

“Would you?” Warrick smiled weakly, “I mean no offence, but…”

“Oh, I know. If Cyn and Kay hadn’t done all the work on this trip, you’d better believe I’d ditch them to spend some time with Lisa, especially since they’ll be playing at the café at the end of the boardwalk tonight before the fireworks contest thing and I’m going to be a lonely, lonely man.” JC shook his head.

“I feel you, man. Tink’s taking all these classes and things this summer and she’s not going to be around much.”

“Dating was probably so much easier before women’s lib.” JC shook his head. “Just find a handy girl in a tower, toss her on the back of your horse and ride off into the sunset.”

“I don’t think it ever actually happened like that.” Warrick puzzled.

“Well it should have.” JC shrugged. “Anyway, better get back to the girls before they start to think we’re talking about them—“

“Which we were.”

“Not the point! Anyway, I’ll get us out of your hair.” The two returned to their girlfriends with mocking chatter about the Wizzzard Hat line on their lips.

Lisa winked surreptitiously to Tink. “If you guys hate the franchise so much, why did you waste you money on it?” She asked JC “Isn’t that paying them to make more?”

“It’s parody value.” Warrick rushed to his friend’s defense.

“Yeah, some things are so bad; you have to make fun of them even if it costs.” JC chimed in. “And this was that bad. I mean XTRMX was bad, but at least it had graphics.” He pretended to stretch while at the same time dropping an arm around Lisa’s shoulders. “Anyway, we’d hate to leave you guys with no sun protection,” He tossed the bottle to Warrick who deftly caught it, “So I think we’ll go and buy some of our own. Take care now.”

Lisa smiled and let JC maneuver her out of the arcade. “Oh, by the way;” She tossed over her shoulder, “Cyn, Juniper and Kay are down by the surf shops if you want to say ‘hi’.”

“Thanks!” Tink shouted after her, thankful to know exactly where not to go.

Warrick rubbed the back of his neck and offered Tink an awkward smile. “Sorry about that. Seriously, I had no idea.”

“I know.” Tink leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Besides, they’re your friends. And a friend of yours is never a problem of mine.”

Two friends that would be problems came instantly to mind. Warrick unconsciously scratched the wrapped metal decoration that became Osp’s orihalcite body when summoned. “Well, I hope after all these months, they’re your friends too.” He managed.

Tink smiled shyly. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” She noticed him fiddling with the armband. “Why did you wear those anyway? Won’t they rust when you get in the water?”

Considering the properties of orihalcite he’d been able to glean with his metal sense, it was more realistic to worry about his skin rusting, but he couldn’t very well explain to Tink about how he came to be in possession of a super rare alloy that even military scientists couldn’t explain the manufacture of.

“They’re stainless steel.” He lied, hoping that Tink’s own knowledge of chemistry wouldn’t foul up his lie. “Lucky thing too. I’m pretty attached to them.”

“Did someone important give them to you?”

It was an honest question and on one level, it made Warrick happy to know she cared enough to ask. On another, it made him feel like he was under interrogation as it sent flashes of Manriki’s deadly chains speeding toward his face. The mere memory was enough to trigger a burst of power that silently warped all the change in his pocket.

“Yeah, they’ve got some pretty strong memories attached to them.” He envisioned Isp and Osp to ensure to himself that it wasn’t a lie. “But I’ll put them in you bag if we go in the water. How about we try out your metal detector now? I bet I can find more with it than you.”

Tink grinned and led the way out of the arcade. “You’re on!”

-- • --

Juniper sighed contentedly. Even without Adel, she was in heaven; hot weather, hot sand, and hot sun bouncing off her reflector into her face. It was as if she’d never really been truly warm before in her life and she was reveling in it.

She contemplated just staying there all day, but the tantalizing scent wafting from the burger stand not far from their spot made her realize that at some point, she’d have to get up to eat. Her hand quested out to find her drink. It was warm. That was one of the few things that shouldn’t be so.

Reluctantly, she dropped the reflector and opened her eyes. Directly ahead of her, the volleyball game was still going on. Kay and Cyn had lured a pair of guys, possibly seniors or college age from the looks of them, into a game for a ‘friendly wager’ and were in the process of hustling them for souvenir money.

No one else was looking her way, so she picked up her drink and blew on it. A thin layer of ice formed from the condensation on the plastic cup and the drink instantly cooled. Now armed with a properly chilled drink, she took in the game.

Before long, worry started to creep into her mind. Cyn was definitely making liberal use of her abilities; stretching just a bit more than she should have been able to, throwing her center of gravity around at will, drastically increasing the strength in her serving arm…

Juniper wondered if she only noticed because she knew Cyn so well, or if she was really being so obvious. She prayed Kay didn’t notice, but she was fairly certain neither of the guys did thanks to Cyn’s low necked, black and gold one piece with random slashes cut across the belly and ribs and Kay’s ‘Christmas in July’ themed red hair and fluorescent green tankini.

She briefly considered her own suit; a backless, green and white one piece with a heart-shaped cutout over her belly button. It was cute in the adorable sense; nowhere near as flattering or revealing as those of her friends. Not that she cared. After all, she wasn’t there to scam on boys like Cyn or Kay. She was just there to enjoy her time there and soak up every bit of warmth she possibly could. With a contented sigh, she sank back onto her beach chair and closed her eyes.

“We’re back!” Lisa’s voice announced at that precise moment. Juniper’s eyes fluttered open again in time to see a bottle of sunscreen being thrust toward her. “Jun, you can’t sit out in the sun unprotected like this, you’ll burn or go all leathery or something.”

“But it feels so nice.” Juniper languidly took the proffered bottle. She squeezed some of the cream out on her hand. It was unpleasantly cool. Unaware of her discomfort, Lisa flopped down in the chair beside her.

“You won’t believe who we saw.” JC’s voice followed the sound of the cooler opening behind her.

“Jennifer Kinney?” Juniper guessed, naming the actress that portrayed Winter Capshaw on Malady Place.

JC and Lisa blinked at each other in confusion for a second. “Uh… no.” JC took the seat on the other side of Lisa.

“Oh.” Juniper deflated a little from her preemptive excitement and started to rub the sunscreen on her arms.

“Warrick and Tink are here.” Lisa said before she could guess again.

Juniper made a noise somewhere between a whimper and a sneeze and glanced over to where Cyn was spiking the volleyball. “They are?” she cleared her throat and tried again in a normal, calmer tone. “They are? But how? None of us knew where they were going. Cyn made sure of it.”

“Apparently, that was a mistake.” Lisa sighed and followed Juniper’s gaze to where the game was ending. “She’s not going to be happy when we tell her.”

“Do we have to tell her?”

“Oh hell yes.” JC intoned. “I don’t get why she wanted to make sure we didn’t go to the same place they went, but hell if I want to be around if she finds out, then finds out we didn’t tell her.”

“Then you get to tell her.” Juniper said quickly. “I’m not it.”

At the volleyball net, Kay and Cyn’s opponents ducked under the net to congratulate the victors.

“Damn, you’re really good.” One of the two, a tall, broad shouldered redhead named Sam said to Cyn.

“Correction;” Cyn said, grinning broadly and throwing an arm over Kay’s shoulder. “We’re really good. I can’t spike ‘em without my partner in crime setting them up.”

“So what; are you two on your school’s team or something?” The other, a shorter, dark skinned, slightly overweight brunette named Maxwell asked, taking his wallet form his back pocket.

“Something like that.” Cyn shrugged, holding out a hand for payment.

“Damn, I knew we were getting hustled.” Maxwell groaned, slapping four ten dollar bills into Cyn’s hand. “What school are you guys from anyway?”

Cyn and Kay glanced at one another. “School?” They chorused.

“Yeah.” Maxwell continued, “I mean, we’re not technically in school yet, but I’m going to Ohio State this fall and this guy…” he elbowed Sam in the side, “Mr. Smart Guy here got into MIT.”

Kay mouthed the phrase ‘college guys’ to Cyn, who nodded slowly. “Yeah… our school…” She was worn out from playing, addled by raging teenage hormones and hungry on a truly intense level from abusing her powers; all of which conspired to rob her of all creativity. She tried to fake a college name, but only came up with one name. “We’re freshmen at uh… Dayspring.”

Maxwell mouthed the phrase ‘college girls’ to Sam, who nodded slowly. “That’s cool. So are you in-state?”

“My friend is.” Cyn said, presenting Kay like a prize. “Me? I just got here.”

Sam nodded a bit more. “So, me and my friend were wondering… are you two doing anything tonight?”

“Absolutely noth—“Cyn grunted as Kay’s elbow found her side.

“Absolutely, we do!” Kay interrupted. She held up a hand upon seeing the boys’ disappointment. “But not like that. See, we’re playing at the Café on the Dunes tonight. They’re having a big bonfire out on the sand and everything. You guys should come.”

“That sounds good.” Maxwell nodded. Then his expression took on a confused air. “Who’s this guy?” Cyn and Kay turned to see JC sauntering toward them, casting dirty looks backward at Lisa and Juniper who were waving to him.

“Sam, Max; JC.” Cyn introduced them as JC reached them. “JC isn’t one of our boyfriends, if that’s what you’re thinking. He belongs to the girl in white that’s pointing and laughing.” She indicated Lisa.

“Hey.” Sam, Max and JC exchanged head tilts.

There was a long interval of silence. Cyn glared at JC. “And here’s the part where JC tells us why he’s interrupting the flirting.” She growled.

“Hey, blame Flower Child and my girlfriend.” JC shrugged. “they railroaded me into telling you.”

Cyn cast her glare up to her other friends. “This better be good…”

“Warrick and Tink are here.”

Cyn cast about in confusion, looking for the couple in question. “What? Where?”

“Not here here.” JC shook his head. Here as in Dawson Bay. This general ‘here’, not this specific ‘here’.”

Cyn’s anger turned to horror. “How can that even be? I made sure of it—“ She turned to Kay. “Didn’t I make sure.”

“You made sure.” Kay assured her.

“I don’t know,” JC shrugged again. “Something about internet searches not being random or something. Tink figured it out, ask her.”

The look Cyn gave JC could have cut a car in half. “I will not ask Tink, because I will not see Tink. I’m leaving them alone. That was the whole point. I could be the good friend and let them be alone for once!”

“Uh… we should be going.” Maxwell said, grabbing Sam by the shoulder, “Come on, little buddy.”

“See you guys at the Café?” Sam asked, resisting the pull to smile at Kay.

“Totally. You’ll know us when you see us.” Kay replied, “We’re Snackrifice.”

“Great.” Sam said, finally following Maxwell.

“God damn it!” Cyn fumed, kicking sand. “I am tired, I am hungry, and the guy I was hitting on now thinks I’m a stalker or something.” She pointed at JC. “I’m officially blaming you. Bring me five burgers or feel my wrath.”

JC looked indignant. “hey, now wait a minute, I didn’t—“

“Wrath!”

“Fine.” JC huffed, turning to walk back up the beach, “You’re lucky Juniper said she was going to treat everyone to lunch, or I’d be pissed right now.”

“So…” Kay sidled up beside the still irate Cyn. “What do we do now?”

Cyn closed her eyes and breathed. “I’ll tell ya, Kay: I’m going to snarf those burgers, then we’re going over there;” She pointed to where a group of people their age, including a number of attractive young men, were grilling, “And we’re hustling another game of volleyball.”

“You’re not going to go nuts over this Tink and Warrick thing?”

“Kay; my friend, I’m a little sad and a lot hungry right now.” Cyn said philosophically. “But I’m getting free food, lots of shirtless guys and we’ve made almost two hundred bucks in the past two hours through the gratuitous abuse of my secret powers. I’m going to be just fine.”

Alexis smiled and took another sip of wine. They were far enough out that the only thing of the shore she could make out was a huge bonfire going on the beach and the faint lights of the boardwalk.

“So? Good vacation so far?” Ian asked, folding the remnants of their candle lit, shipboard meal into the basket it had been produced from. Renting the boat and having the meal catered had been a perfect synergy of his sensibilities and Laurel’s resources.

“Very.” Alexis agreed. “I have to say, I’m glad we did this.”

“You know I am.” Ian held out his hand, palm up and began tracing intricate patterns in the air with his fingertips. The wine in Alexis’s glass boiled to life, rising and forming up into the shape of a rose blossom inside the glass.

She laughed and watched it in awe. “My, you’re just full of surprises this weekend, aren’t you?”

“I try.” Ian said, trying to sound casual despite the concentration required to keep the rose formed. “Hell, I even picked the place using a random web search.”

Alexis got a devilish look on her face; a look Ian remembered from their days at the Academy, which generally meant that some sort of trouble was to follow. “I guess it’s my turn, eh?” She lunged at him, capturing his lips with hers.

The rose collapsed almost instantly.

“I’m afraid I still don’t understand.” A gaunt, bespectacled man was saying. He stood before a large, round desk, at which sat an elderly black man.

“You don’t really have too, Jerry.” The old man said, smoothing his simple, but immaculate suit. “Put it up to me being eccentric if you want. Put it up to me being fickle. But that’s what I want done. Have I ever steered you wrong before?”

He hadn’t. He knew it, Jerry knew it. No matter how strange their arrangement was, Jerry had to admit that everything that his business partner told him to do turned out to be the perfect choice. It was like having a friend with a Midas touch.

But recently, Jerry had wondered if being even richer than he was now was worth being a powerless figurehead in the company everyone thought he masterminded. Carrying out the orders of a man that insisted on not having any public connection to the company was less and less appealing.

“I’m only telling this for your own good, Jerry; and for the good of our customers. Sure, it was novel, but the way it is now is just false advertising, isn’t it?”

“But you suggested it in the first place!” Jerry argued.

“And now I’m changing my mind. Let’s not forget that I designed the Quintillion search algorithm; the fastest and fastest updating search routine on the new internet infrastructure. And just about every other piece of hardware and software we make. I know what I’m doing. Have some faith.”

Jerry frowned, but relented. His business partner was always right after all. “Okay; change the randomizer to a totally random seed system. Got it.” He sighed, “Any other minor code changes that will require us taking the entire network offline while we’re at it?”

“No, Jerry. Just go home and get some sleep before you do any more work. You seem stressed. By the way, there’s a gift for your wife in your office; you forgot her birthday again.”

Jerry’s eyes widened in panic. “Oh my god, I did!” Any concerns about his relationship with his business partner dissolved before the memory of the numerous other times he’d been helped that way. “Thank you so much, George, I’d be divorced ten times over if it wasn’t for you!” He hurried for the door. “And don’t worry; I’ll put in the work order on that search fix before I leave tonight!”

George smiled at the closing door. “Only five times over, Jerry.” He mused, “But it won’t ever come to pass if I can help it.” He swiveled his seat to look out the window. A tacky little snow globe featuring a surfing penguin sat on the sill, proclaiming to be from Dawson Bay, VA Beach.

Picking up the snow globe, he shook it. Jerry wasn’t the only one in need of some stress relief, George reminded himself. Everyone deserved a beach episode every once and a while. He was just happy that he could help.

End Issue #28