My NaNo progress for days six through fourteen. I was kind of in a daze for three days and didn't write anything, and then I sort of scribbled a few hundred here and there for another two or three. No real writing until yesterday and the day before.

"Hey, isn't this just like what your mom said on the day she announced her resignation from the League? 'This is something that's been growing within me for a long time now, and I can feel the strings being tugged and I know that I am meant for a higher battle.'"

Arch Cherie smiled at her sadly. “I’ll keep you updated. You’ll be the first to know when we find Long Shot.”

“What makes you think you’ll find him before I do?”

“So you’re going to look for him?” Arch Cherie was surprised.

“Of course I am, Arch Cherie. He was my mentor. Just because I don’t like the League doesn’t mean I’m going to just let him disappear into the world without a fight. He deserves better than that. We all do.”

#

“What happened?”

“We lost. Flexion showed up and distracted us while Feline Fatale managed to get away with the jewels.”

They were currently staking out a museum where Maverick was expecting Flexion to strike. He wasn’t going to get the best of her again.

“No, I meant on your date.”

“Oh, that. Well, it happened.”

Correction—Maverick was staking out the museum. Maree was studying for her calculus test.

“Liz! Seriously, you’ve got to give me all of the details. You never get to go on dates anymore, and I’m dying to find out what happened.”

She turned back to Maree. “Exactly, which is why I will be keeping all of those details to myself.”

She turned back to the view before her. She was pretty pleased with her choice of location. She had managed to find a building that was tall enough that it offered her an unblocked view of the museum’s roof as well as its prime entrance locations. When Flexion arrived, she’d be ready for him.

“So tell me what you want, what you really, really want…”

Maree’s head popped up and she looked incredulously at her vigilante friend.

“You left your cell phone on?!”

“What? I’m expecting a call!” Maverick answered her phone. “This is Liz.” She made a face at Maree as she mocked her.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” The familiar voice made her smile.

“Thomas! Oh, no…not at all.”

“Well if you’re busy I can just call you back later.”

“Oh no…it’s no big. I’m just staking out a museum.”

Maree copied her in an annoyingly frustrating voice. “I’m JUST staking out a museum!”

Maverick shot a dangerous look back at Maree.

“Shut up! No Thomas—not you. I’m just talking to a little nobody who insisted she come with me.”

She turned back towards the museum… “So what are you doing right now? It seems kind of loud wherever you are.”

…just as the sound of the museum’s alarm came rushing at her in a screaming shock.

“Oh, I’m actually visiting a museum. Small world, isn’t it?”

She spoke quickly. “Actually I’ve got to go Thomas. Bye!”

She tossed her phone at Maree. “Hold this. I’ll be back.”

She took a running start and leaped off the edge of the roof.

“Be careful, Liz!”

#

The obsidian skinned villain slipped by a small gathering of terrified museum goers. One of the best parts of the initial attack was always the fearful reverence he was granted before the big shot hero guys showed up. It made him positively electric.

He laughed—a full bodied chortle. It was an eerie sight for the terrified citizens cowering before him. The completely jet black bodied shape shifter had no mouth, and the only thing even close to being human about him, besides his current form, were his eyes, and even they glowed inhumanly.

He was going to pull this off, and all because that stupid little hero child had been naïve enough to assume that he would enter the museum as he was now. He wasn’t one of those unlucky mutant freaks who were bound to only one form—he could just as easily blend in with the hoi polloi as he could at the Legion’s headquarters.

“Flexion!”

Ah, so she had found him.

He turned to her; in a manner that he was sure was unnervingly slow. As she came into his view, he was comforted to see that she was alone—and anxious. There was no better way to have a hero during a fight than already riled up when they arrived.

Behind his black veneer he smiled.

This was too easy; these hero types were always so predictable.

“Ah…Maverick.”

She jerked a bit at that. Oh geez…was she really trying to shrink away from him? Way too easy.

“So tell me, little hero-ette. Where are your little friends, hmmm…? Off saving the world without you?”

Ah, so he had hit a nerve. She was much too easy to read.

She raised an arm, a ball of energy cupped within her palm. Ah, so she was actually capable of attempting to attack him. Well, he’d certainly have to do something about that, wouldn’t he?

“Uh uh uh…” he said, wagging a finger at her. “Better watch that little blast of yours. We wouldn’t want to damage any museum artifacts, now would we?”

She faltered. He was getting to her.

He pushed on.

“More importantly, we certainly wouldn’t want to hurt any innocent victims, now would we?”

She lowered her hand.

He was positively grinning at this point. Oh, if only she could see the smirk on his face!

That little deadly ball of energy in her hand dispersed, and he took his opportunity.

#

She was thrown against the wall so unexpectedly that she barely had time to react and twist her body so that she didn’t strike it head first.

#

Maree leaned precariously over the edge of the roof to look down. Police cars and news reporters were slowly gathering.

Where was Maverick?

She moved away from her perch and quickly gathered her things.

If something was happening, she was going to be there for Liz, regardless of what state she was in when she emerged from the building across the street.

#

Maverick reared up, an energy ball within her palm. She threw it with all of her might towards the villain.

#

Flexion cackled again as he dodged her pathetic attempt at attacking him.

Outside, he could hear police cars fast approaching. He needed to disappear.

“Well, this has been fun my dear. But I really must be leaving. Farewell.”

#
She jumped at him, but his body dissolved as she hit it and the villain slithered away.

Somewhere, in the background of her mind, she could hear the S.W.A.T. team entering the museum.

#

Maree pushed past the police line, impatiently ignoring their yells for her to get back.

The hostages were being released.

She saw Thomas emerge from the building and head towards the chief of police.

#

“Excuse me, ma’am.”

She did her best to ignore him. She had work to do and it didn’t leave her time to talk to reporters.

“Carter! Report!”

It had been hard work, becoming the first female police chief in the city. It was even harder work garnering the respect of her fellow officers as a woman in a man’s world. She could only imagine how difficult it must be for Maverick, trying to set herself apart in a world that was more comfortable with the idea of a super man than a wonder woman. Now, she was determined to do everything she could to help the heroine out.

“Chief Saunders, if I could just get a word…”

Honestly, she hated reporter types. They were always way too tenacious for their own good. This was highly problematic when she was trying to get a job done and they were hanging on to her every action.

She snapped towards the pointy looking kid.

“What do you want?”

“Stephen Thomas Noel, University Unified Press. I was hoping I could have a word with you, chief.”

She sighed. This again.

This particular reporter seemed to always be around when Maverick was. Wherever the heroine went, he followed like some kind of perverted puppy dog. She couldn’t stand him.

“Thomas!”

His head whipped around.

Chief Saunders caught sight of a red haired girl fighting her way through the crowd towards them.

Good, maybe his girlfriend would distract him while she attempted to salvage an already bad situation.

“Carter. I thought I asked you for a report.”

“Uh, right. Uh…yes.”

This new recruit was a head ache right now and a disaster waiting to happen. He was way too antsy and he had a tendency to hero worship the city’s famed heroine.

He began to stammer his way through facts that the chief already knew and she quickly shoved her way past him, not wanting to hear the familiarly dismal figures.

Something was nagging her at the back of her mind. Sandra had begged her not to go in to work this morning. Her girlfriend was convinced that she was psychic and insisted that she had a vision the previous night. ‘Please don’t go in to work today, Amanda,’ she had pleaded. But the police woman didn’t believe in supernatural forces, and had shrugged her off. She’d take something tangible, like a mutated megalomaniac, any day to translucent talk of prophecies and spirits.

#

He saw her; she knew it. Maree pushed through the crowd. She was determined to get to him.

"Thomas!" She shouted, but all of the surrounding commotion ensured he had a valid excuse for ignoring her.

"Thomas!"

She reached out for him.

#

Damn girl was persistent. He could see how she had won Maverick's friendship and trust.

Still, he had bigger fish to fry, and the fact that she had just latched on to him was preventing him from successfully completing his plans. He turned to her.

"What do you want?" he snarled.

#

Maree's hand jerked abruptly away from his arm.

This wasn't right. Where was the charming guy who had enamored Liz? He had somehow been replaced by this growling monster...and he had just slipped away from her.

She had to find him; something just wasn't right.

#

Chief Saunders almost missed it. There, in that hidden corner, was that sneaky reporter kid.

What was his name again?

And there was his little girlfriend, chasing after him from a distance.

What were they up to?

#

"Thomas?"

He turned suddenly. Maree noted that he was kneeling over a sack of some kind. As she moved closer, she took notice of what was in it.

Bones.

And these weren't the regular sort of bones, either. There was no way that they could have been simply plucked out of a supermarket chicken or dug out of a corpse's grave.

They were dinosaur bones.

In fact, they were very much like the dinosaur bones that Flexion had supposedly just stolen from the museum several feet away.

"Thomas...how did you get those?"

He grinned, but it was lacking the usual human warmth that one such smile usually held. It was a dead smile--there was no doubt about that.

And something was very, very wrong. She didn't need to be a super genius in order to figure out what was going on.

"You're Flexion," she breathed.

"Bingo."

His arm shot out. It was long--too long. His hard hand grasped at her throat, and with one flex of it, snapped her neck.

#

Chief Saunders couldn't believe her eyes. Before her, in the alley, that pesky reproter had just transformed from a mere annoyance into one of the world's deadliest super villains.

She raised her gun. There was no time to call for back up.

#

Chapter Five: How to Break Hearts and Damage Spirits: A Guide to Being a True Villain

The best way for a villain to get rid of his or her arch nemesis is to:
a) Tie him or her above a tank of sharks with friggin laser beams on their heads
b) Send him or her to the edge of the known universe
c) Encase him or her within stone
d) Send him or her into an alternate universe where heroes do not exist

#

Bzzt! Bzzzt! Bzzzzzt!

"Raggh!"

She groaned and rolled over, pulling her pillow with her over her head, as if that could somehow block out that awful buzzing vibrato. Liz had been asleep for less than one hour, and it was already close to five o'clock in the morning. After she had emerged from the museum, sore and despondent, she had been greeted with equal, if not more, pandemonium outside as there had been within. Flexion had managed to get away with the bones, but not before he had killed the chief of police, a good friend of hers when it came to fighting crime and needing support from the general public, and Maree.

Maree.

The loss stung at her in ways she had never known. Out of all of the things and people she had injured and lost ever since she first dawned her mask, this one hurt the most. It wasn't any choice she had made; she felt that it was a deliberate attack against her. How he had known of their connection, she would never know, but this was now just another addition to her long list of lamentations, and it made the greatest imapct.

Bzzt! Bzzzt! Bzzzzzzt!

She rolled ungracefully out of her bed and fumbled in the curtain-induced darkness until she found her phone and pulled the battery out of it. She fell down, grateful for the silence that now greeted her.

She hadn't even been granted the chance to mourn Maree at all before being swept up by the police officers and press there. There had been way too many interviews and too much paper work and all of it had made her head spin. Person after person, until all of their faces blurred together had asked her the same questions, over and over again, until finally she had had enough. She had refused to say another word, and left--immediately heading home and crashing in her darkened room without so much trouble as to even change.

Now, feeling her battered body, she regretted it.

But there would be time for that later. Now, she just needed to sleep. She reached over and groped the top of her bed until her hand came in contact with her comforter, and she tugged the thing over her, not even bothering to climb up off of the floor before once again passing out.

#

"You didn't even bother to change?"

The loud and unwelcome voice rang out, piercing into her stupor and accompanied by the unwanted glare of the early morning light.

She was hung over. She had to be. Her head was pounding and her entire body ached and she had not felt this bad since she had last been hung over. It had to all be just an alcohol induced hallucination. She was hung over.

"And honestly, how do you go about living in this absolute pig sty?"

She cracked an eye open and took a painful glance around her room. So what if it was a bit messy? She had been busy saving the world. Surely that entitled her to some sort of maid service or something like that.

"Honestly, how do you live in this dump?"

"What are you doing here?"

Liz raised her head and caught sight of Fiona, picking her way delicately through the mess on Liz's desk. She was carefully costumed in muted shades of charcoal. In fact, she looked so well put together that Liz almost missed her puffy red eyes, a tell tale sign that she had probably been crying the entire time she had been getting dressed--and then some.

"What do you think? I've been trying to call you for hours. What's wrong with your phone?"

Liz squinted at her, not quite believing what she was seeing and hearing.

"Wha?"

Fiona rolled her eyes. "Look, Maree was a friend of mine. Just because I hate you, doesn't mean that I wanted her dead."

Liz struggled up off of her floor. She was beginning to wake up now. "Gee, thanks."

Fiona flashed her one of infamous smiles. "No problem. Now get up."

Liz finished sitting up and stared at Fiona as she made her way around the other girl's room, carefully picking apart and examining the past four years of her life.

"Why?"

“Just do it.”

When it became apparent that Liz wasn’t going to move without any sort of a more in depth answer, Fiona rolled her eyes. “Look, I’ll tell you on the way. We’re kind of pressed for time though, so could you please hurry it up already?”

“Fine, I’m going. Happy, Princess Fiona?”

Fiona preened. “Very.”

“Where are we going?”

Fiona made the way to Liz’s closet and pulled out some clothes. “I’ll tell you on the way.” She tossed the clothes at Liz. “Now put these on.”

#

It was nothing like Liz would have ever chosen for herself. A pseudo-Asiatic black trench coat kind of thing with some sort of embroidered pattern on it was draped around her shoulders and for the life of her, she could not figure out where it had come from. It wasn’t that she didn’t like it—she just couldn’t ever recall actually purchasing it ever at any point in her life. She was pretty positive it wasn’t a gift, either. Well, she could sort of understand why she had originally bought the thing. It felt like a protective blanket had been thrown over her. Or, perhaps it was because she was riding in a car, something she had not bothered to do all too much since she had discovered her amazing ability to fly. There was something strangely soothing about being in a casing of metal. She was beginning to see the appeal of all of those giant robot shows from Japan.

She glanced out of the corner of her eye at Fiona. They had been driving for the past fifteen minutes or so, and alreday Liz could tell that they were headed towards Fiona’s apartment so lovingly furnished for her by the ever so beloved “Daddy.”

Liz still couldn’t figure out what this was about. The last time she had spoken to Fiona, they had been on the same terms they had been for years: argumentative and tolerable of each other only when Maree demanded it.

Ah, and there was that unfamiliar twisting stab wound. Maree. That was the name of the drink that was the sole cause of her imagined hang over this morning. How she had forgotten in those few precious moments when she had awoken, she did not know, but somehow she had and now she fiercely regretted ever having had remembered it.

“Stay here.”

Hadn’t she said those very words to Maree when she left her on the roof top before facing Flexion—her murderer—in the museum? What had they been talking about before? She couldn’t even remember. She couldn’t remember much of anything of what should have been few and precious and cherished last moments.

Fiona glanced over at her.

“Oh god. You are not going to cry, are you? You better not get anything on my interior, I just had it redone.”

“You know, I know you hate me Fiona but I’m surprised that you can be so callous about this when I know how much you cared about Maree.”

“I’ve cried my tears, Maverick.” Fiona spat the word out, like it was a bad taste from childhood she wanted to forget. “But now’s the time to take action and you are this city’s hero and it needs you. Now. Not some simpering, crying sap who needs to be comforted. You’re the hero. You do the comforting. Now stop acting like a child and grow up. I need your head clear.”

“For what, Fiona? I’m not going to just help you pick out the most fashionable thing to wear at the funeral. I’ve got better things to do than sit around and gossip and giggle about boys and—oh god, Thomas!”

Fiona glanced over at Liz, with more confusion than irritation this time.

“Who?”

“Thomas! He’s this guy that I’m seeing and Maree and I were talking about him before I—“

“You mean this guy?”

Fiona reached behind the front seat and fumbled blindly for a bit, finally managing to grab hold of newspaper, which she tossed unceremoniously upon Liz’s lap before righting her car from its veered path.

Liz looked down suspiciously at the back of a newspaper.

“What’s this?”

“Turn it over.”

Liz managed to lift perhaps one corner of it before Fiona’s hand descended upon hers.

“Wait.” Fiona kept one eye glued on the road ahead, while attempting to watch Liz’s face in order to gauge the other girl’s reaction. “Look, I just want to let you know that I’m sure it wasn’t meant maliciously—okay? And if you want to vent and scream and bitch and rave and maybe try out a little voodoo and burn a few things, I’ve got plenty of practice and an open schedule today, okay?”

Liz waved off her hand and turned the paper over without looking down.

“Look, Fiona. Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.”

“Really?”

Liz looked down at the paper in her lap and gasped. The quick intake of breath seemed to separate herself from the other occupant in the car.

“What’s this?”

“He’s a reporter, Liz.”

“But—“

“He was probably just doing it all for the story. I’m sorry. Look—if it helps, I don’t think it was actually done with any intent to hurt you or anything like that. He was just looking for a story.”

On the paper in Liz’s lap, a special edition of Western State University’s University Unified Press, the top headline read: “JUST LIKE MS. AVERAGE JOE: A SPECIAL EXCLUSIVE WITH OUR CITY’S VIGILANTE HERO. ON A PRIVATE DATE WITH MAVERICK HERSELF WITH REPORTING BY STEPHEN THOMAS NOEL.”

“He was a reporter.”

“You didn’t know.”

“He’s a reporter.”

“You’re repeating yourself.”

“You knew.”

Liz turned to Fiona, irascibility on her face. “You knew, didn’t you? I bet Maree told you all about it and you told her to urge me on. So what now, Fi? Did you wake and dress me up just so you could ridicule me? Is he back at your house? When we get there are the two of you just going to sit there and mock me?”

"Of course not! I brought that because I thought you would want to know. I had no idea what was going, except that Maree said you were seeing someone!"

"So you did know!"

"Oh my god, Lizzie! Stop being so paranoid! What is wrong with you, anyways?"

"What is wrong with me? Hmmm... I don't know. Let me think about that. Maybe it might be because, oh I don't know...my best friend is DEAD and she was killed by my BOYFRIEND who turned out to be a nosy ass reporter set out on ruining my life!"

"What is wrong with you? You are not the only one who lost someone here, you know? Stop blaming me just because you, as always are incapable of judging people's character in any sort of fashion that just might save your hide later on in life! I'm here because I'm trying to help you and I’m sad because some idiot got my best friend killed by a super powered villain with mutant stretching abilities and this same person is now sitting in my care whining about how horrible her life is after I tried helping her! HELLO? Do you see anything wrong with this picture?” Fiona jerked the steering wheel of her car aggressively as she almost swerved off the road.

"Yeah...yeah, I guess I do," said Liz, suddenly quiet and sounding a good deal more reflective than she had a moment before.

"You! You...you do?"

Fiona turned somewhat towards Liz.

"Yeah. I do. We both cared about Maree. She was a good friend to both of us. Once upon a time WE were good friends to her too. But then we started fighting and treating her like some kind of middle man go between and now that she's gone we're feeling really guilty about it and thinking 'oh well I should have done this, this and this differently and now I'm never going to have the chance to fix these things again. I'm right, aren't I?"

Liz turned to face Fiona as they pulled into her driveway.

"Umm...yeah. I...guess you are."

Fiona parked the car and turned it off, staring somewhat blankly ahead.

"Uh..."

Liz turned away from her and stared dully ahead as well.

"So, what now?"

#

"Wow. I really love what you've done with the place."

"Your sarcasm is unneeded right now. I wasn't exactly expecting you over so suddenly you know."

"No, you weren’t. You weren't exactly expecting anyone over, were you'?"

"Okay, you can stop now. I'm sorry it's messy but at least it isn't as bad as that horrible pig sty you call a room."

They were sitting in Fiona’s kitchen. Liz was seated at Fiona's small table, clearly only meant for one. Well, at least they weren't in danger of being interrupted by any unwanted significant others. Liz was actually pleasantly surprised by Fiona's place. She hadn't been there--ever--and had been expecting it to be exactly like her room had been when she was still living with her parents, super trendy and very cute. It had been the perfect rich girl's room. But this apartment...it was so not Fiona, at least, the Fiona that Liz remembered, that it was a bit disconcerting. It certainly threw her off balance when they had walked in. It was very small and very practical. Everything in it had a purpose. Fiona's closet wasn't overflowing with expensive designer clothes and fancy name brand shoes were not sitting posed anywhere, just waiting for someone to take notice of the fact that Fiona always had the It things.

"So, how long have you been here?"

Fiona was making lunch. Another surprise--the spoiled brat could cook. And, from the smell of it, she could cook exceptionally well.

"Since graduation. I couldn't stand staying home, but my father insisted on paying for the place because he couldn't stand the thought of his little girl working. I didn't want to accept it, but it gave me the opportunity to concentrate completely on school without having to worry about paying for the bills, so I try not to mind it too much."

"You couldn't stand staying home? I would have thought you of all people would have wanted to stay home. I mean, how do you survive without a maid and a cook and a chauffeur and everything else you had when you were there?"

Fiona laughed. "Well, I have to admit, it was a bit of a culture shock when I moved out. It kind of blew my mind that the dishes didn't do themselves and that food didn't just automatically cook itself perfectly and, oh my gosh, you should have seen me trying to clean house the first few times! But now I'm really glad I did it. The situation at home was just too tense, you know."

Liz nodded a bit in a noncommittal way. She really didn't know. In fact, she had had no idea whatsoever that Fiona had wanted to get away from her parents and home life so much. It was an aching reminder of how much she had lost over such a short amount of time. It hurt to think about the way she, Fiona, and Maree and been so close. And now...

She silently mulled over what could have gone wrong while watching Fiona put the finishing touch on their delectable looking food. Things were so unexpected. She never would have anticipated the way she was living now years ago. She was positive of that much at least.

On the table, her cell phone started buzzing and vibrating.

Fiona turned towards her. "Who's calling you?"

Liz glanced down at the caller display. "It's Thomas."

Fiona wrinkled her nose. "That reporter? What does he want?"

"I don't know."

The cell phone stopped for a moment as Liz missed his call, and then resumed.

"Again?"

"Yeah."

Fiona set their plates down at the cramped table. "Don't answer it. You don't need to talk to him right now--or ever again. What do you want to drink?"

"Umm, what do you have?" Liz looked down beleaguered at her phone.

"Tea. Lemonade. Sparkling water. Soda. Take your pick."

"I'll have the sparkling water."

"'Kay." Fiona poured the clear peach flavored beverage into two glasses and returned to the table. Liz's cell phone continued to buzz.

She reached for it.

"Don't answer that!"

"Hello?"

Next to her Fiona rolled her eyes.

"Liz! I'm so glad you answered. This is Thomas--"

"I know who this is."

"Oh. Well, listen, I really wanted to talk to you--"

"I don't want to talk to you."

Fiona gave her a thumbs up paired with one of her infamous winning smiles.

"Please, just give me a few minutes of your time and I can--"

"I already gave you a few minutes of my time, Thomas." Her voice was deadpanned and her expression didn't change, but it was apparent to her former friend that she was agonized. "In fact, I gave you several hours of my time and look what came from it. I really don't think I can spare any more of it for you."

"But I can explain--"

"You can explain?! How about you explain to me how you ever thought it was okay to completely manipulate and use me just so that you could get ahead and make a career for yourself? How about you explain to me how, in any sort of world and culture, that that is okay?"

"Liz--"

"No! I don't want to talk to you about this!"

"Look, I know you're upset--"

"Upset? I'm more than just a little upset right now, Thomas. Or, excuse me, Stephen Thomas Noel!"

"I thought you knew! We've met before! How was I supposed to know that your memory was that bad!"

"You used me for your own selfish reasons."

"...not completely."

"Not completely?! It was all just business for you. I trusted you. I gave you something that I have given very few people in the last few years and you took it and abused it and then spat out and regurgitated it up for all of the rest of the world to see! How is that ever okay?!"

"It wasn't all business for me! Not towards the end! At first it was, but then I realized that here was this brilliant and funny and beautiful and caring individual and I wanted--genuinely wanted--to spend time with her. I would not have invited you out to dinner otherwise if I hadn't."

"I hardly believe that. You were using me!"

"I wasn't!"

"You just admitted you were!"

"Liz. I'm sorry, I really am. I don't know what else I can say to convince you otherwise. But I had to deliver something to the paper. It's in danger of getting shut down. I can't allow that to happen. It means too much to my school and the students there. We needed a big story. I gave it to them. I'm not going to apologize for doing something I believed was right. I'm sorry you've got a problem with that. Look--if you want to see me again, you can call me. Until then--"

"I want to see you again."

Across from her, Fiona rolled her eyes and threw her hands up in the air.

"But, I don't know if I can do this, Thomas. It's going to be really hard to trust you again and I don't know if I can handle the thought that at any moment, private details of my life that I have painstakingly tried to protect may end up public knowledge. That's hard to deal with. But I like you. I want to keep seeing you. I just cannot handle you going behind my back--"

"I didn't go behind your back! I thought you knew. I thought that it would be obvious why I wanted to meet with you in the first place. It's not going behind your back if--"

"Why are you still arguing about it?"

"Why are you? I thought that you said you wanted to see me!"

"I do! But there's more to seeing someone than just liking them and doing it when your me--"

"Oh, so now you're going to play the whole 'injured hero' card. 'Oh dear oh me. How horrible my life is that I have super powers and I'm making a difference.' You know, you hero-types are all alike after--"

"'You hero-types'?! What the hell do you mean by that Thomas? Really. Because I want to know. And I think I need to know how you feel about my job before we continue this--"

"Do you want to know how I feel about it? Okay how's this for-- No, I can't see him now. I'm busy. Can't you see that?"

"See what?"

"Not you Liz. I'm talking to someone else. Hold on."

"I thought you wanted to work this out!"

"Work what out? It's been worked!"

"No it hasn't!"

"Yes it--I told you I'm busy. Tell him--"

"THOMAS!"

"Shut up for one second Liz! I--"

The line went dead.

"Thomas?"

Fiona rolled her eyes. "What happened now? If he hung up on you, I will personally go up and find him and--"

"No, I think we got cut off."

"Why does it matter? You shouldn't have answered in the first place. You don't need to talk to him."

"Yes I do Fiona."