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No incidents today, nothing exploded in her chemistry lab, she aced the two tests she had, and the school counselor couldn’t schedule her this week.   Laney is cautiously pleased; she even smiles while weaving artfully though the halls towards the exit at the end of this Thursday.  Almost survived one week!

When the wheel on the cart a part of boys are maneuvering snaps right off and rolls down the tiled floor, Laney’s fixated on the spinning motion of the metallic object passing by so close to her and fails to hear the startled screams.

Her plated shoes certainly save her from broken bones when the video equipment comes crashing down, but the powers that be didn’t design one’s foot to bend at that particular angle…

Laney’s sharp cry is lost amidst shrieks from others in the crowd.   She jerks back and withdraws from the cheering faces so quickly that the horrified student aides don’t realize she’d been there at all.   She shakily leans against a wall to catch her breath and wait for the pain to subside and permit her to think clearly again – well, as clearly as she’s able in this place.

Only…it isn't a wall.

"Let me take a look."  John says, maneuvering her to a bench to sit down.  He gently lifts her ankle and looks at it.  "Soft tissue damage, no breaks."  he says softly.  "I'm guessing you wear these boots for the ankle support and the steel toe.  Good thing too."  he looks up and smiles, "It'll be sore but it's not too bad.  I can go get some ice if you want to take your boot off?"

"Alright. Yes, been wearing these type of things for years.  Dad said after...Um...Alright."  It's only after she is seated and obediently unlacing her shoe that the dazed Laney registers just who is speaking.

"Oh! I'm a full time project, aren't I?  Sorry about this.  Ice...yeah."  She twists her head to look up at John and smile.

John walks off to the cafeteria and comes back with some ice in plastic bags with paper towels and puts it on Laney's ankle.  "We'll leave this for a while and then warm it up some."

“Thanks, John.  I guess I should bother you further and ask for a ride home in a little bit.   I was cutting my time close to catch my bus...It’s okay if you can’t.   I don’t want to be more trouble.   I can call Jean and get her to pick me up in about an hour and a half.     Jean’s gonna love this.   That was sarcasm, by the way.  I don’t do it very well.  I’ve been able to avoid anything crippling since I moved to Oak Park.  It’s always strange how light I feel when I take these shoes off, like I’d float away.  You really are good at helping people.  Do you...um...like it, or is it just something you get forced into like today with me?  Are either of your parents a doctor?”   

Her nervous whispering ceases when pressure is applied to her injury.  She bows her head and studies the pattern of her heavy skirt; the wrinkles in the fabric do fascinating things to the grey plaid.

"I can walk home with you, and thanks.  My folks aren't doctors, it's just something I've always wanted to do.  Something I'd have to work for.  Something that's not expected of me."  He holds the ice on for a few minutes, then sets it down and wraps her ankle in his hands, the heat helping with the ache.

"That's an...interesting thing to say.  Not expected.  Most kids rebel against parents by getting piercings or tattoos or...painting graffiti."  She smiles wistfully for a memory before continuing in her low voice, "You said they know...Are they um...special, too?  I mean have powers and...What do they do?  I mean for a living...Sorry.  I'm being nosy, huh?  I just never met anyone like you.  Your hands are very warm.  How do you do that?"

"It's ok.  My folks are just normal parents.  My dad retired from the NSA.  He worked in paranormal operations as an analyst.  My mom ran an organic food co-op.  She couldn't grow anything, but she could manage so they let her run the place.  My dad is related to the Danvers bloodline."  John looks up.  "The girls in the Danvers line all inherit the same powers that Super Girl had.  I'm the first boy to ever get them."  He looks at her ankle again, and she realizes he's looking inside her.  He moves it gently, testing the range of motion.  "Little swelling, but not too much.  You should be able to walk."  He says, throwing the ice away and sitting next to her on the bench.  I'm just naturally warmer than other people.  My heart rate is high, and I burn a lot of calories."

OOC: In this universe the NSA handles all Paranormal Operations for the USA.  They run the government super team (Eagle Force) and the training program for that team (Omega Squad).  They also fight Ultra-Terrorists (Viper, Megacide, Genocide, etc.) and their Strike Operations Teams help state and local law enforcement by deploying troops to help out when they have paranormal threats and no local super heroes to handle it.

"High metabolism...That's cool - er hot.  Whatever."   She flashes a quick grin.   "I owe you many calories, then."

"I guess that's both and advantage and not.  Having parents who don't share your powers, I mean.  No one to ask...Unless your dad has sisters?  Jean's my dad's sister. I'm very fortunate to be part of a large and close family.  On his side, anyway.  My mom's...well, we don't talk to them anymore.  Nobody with powers, though.  Not that anyone said.  Oh, sure, sure, there're the stories from my mom's side of the family in Massachusetts, but that was a few hundred years ago.  How did you learn to do...what you can do?  Trial and error?  Your dad's contacts?"

"Mostly trial and error.  Some things took practice to get right, like my speed.  And some stuff still needs work."  John smiles, "So your moms side of the family were witches?  You mentioned Massachusetts and a a few hundred years ago.  That sounds like it might be interesting.  Worth looking into maybe."

"Some things like flying?"  Laney cups a hand over her lips, smothering a giggle.  It was nothing malicious, merely a girlish delight at the prospect of being airborne.   She stares down at her bared foot, reluctant to move.

"Not much to research there.  Nan was the - my mom's mom - was the only one from her side of the family who bothered with us, and that was only after Andy was born.  One of my brothers.  She um...She was a witch with a 'b' if you know what I mean, liked telling horrible stories that usually ended in the protagonist dying.  Didn't like me at all.  See..."   She pauses, trying to compose her thoughts.

"See mom married dad without her dad's permission, and seven months later I was born.  You can figure out how well that went over, my mom's family being an older, more traditional type.

"Are you an only child?  You said girls inherited powers...Do you have sisters?"

"Only child.  My folks tried for years.  Mom used to call me her miracle baby.  She had a hard time during the pregnancy, and I was born a little sickly.  They didn't think I'd survive, but I did."  John looks at her foot, "You wanna try walking on it?"

"So you did.  You look very fine, not sickly at all."

She answers his question by pushing herself to the edge of the bench and easing her weight onto her feet.  Her lips press thin and her eyes close briefly.  It wasn't as bad as she expected, and she sits back and looks around for her shoe.

"I'll live.  I should pay more attention to where I'm going, speaking of sickly.  Stupid more like.  Hey, at least it's my left.   I should ask, since I have you here, when you want me to pick you up Saturday.  I mean, if you still want to go...with me...Saturday."

"Whenever.  It's at noon Greg said?  We could, whenever is good for you.  Is good.  Saturday."

"I hadn't thought about it. Procrastinating." Slowly standing to wobble by the bench and cinch her coat closed, Laney names a time that should have them arriving 22 minutes prior to noon from John's home.  Of course, she doesn't know where that is, and asks after the fact.

"...unless you want to do lunch first.  It'll be a long day."

She keeps testing her foot, shifting her weight on and off it, delaying.

"Um...John?  May I ask you something?  Something else...before I forget and lose what I...um...Your parents...Do they want you to become...you know...a hero, work for the NSA, too?  Were you trained to do that sort of thing?  I mean...how do you...say 'no' to that kind of expectation?  to that responsibility?"

John gives her his address and helps her get her things together.  "Lunch would be ok."  As they make their way towards the door, which he gets for her, he answers her last question.  "My folks have never said they expect me to be a hero.  My mom would probably want me to stop, since I've been doing just that since I was about eight or nine.  My dad just tells me he wants me to do what I think it right.  I know I'm not required to be one, but I have all these abilities.  It seems like I should help people with them.  Sometimes I just don't think I'll be able to keep it up.  I worry a lot about not being there for my friends, or even for total strangers."

"Since you were eight?  I think when I was that age, my biggest worry was how to talk my parents into letting me stay outside later in the summertime.  There's only so much one person can do, John, but...you're right to keep practicing, until you know your limits, until you know what you can and can't do.  Then...then you'll know when to let others help.  May be less stressful then, less worry.   I don't know.  I think...I'm too accustomed to accepting things.  Bad things.  Sounds like you're doing the opposite.  Funny."

Her heavy shoes were a boon before, now a detriment when she limps towards the exit.

"Thanks.  I'll take you out, then. To lunch, I mean.  I owe you a lot, and it'll be fun.  I think.  Um...I'll call you Saturday morning and we'll figure out where.  Anywhere you'd like, alright?"

"Well, you've been a home body and I don't go out much.  I'll ask some people to recommend someplace.  Maybe near the theater, so it'll be easier."  Once they've moved a way from the school some he stops.  "You want me to help you."  he nods towards her boot.  "Save you walking all the way home on it."

"Yes, a homebody...something like that.   Wherever you'd like to go is fine."

With a relieved sigh, Laney nods in answer to his offer, murmuring, "Thanks, John.  I'm sorry I'm so much trouble.  You've been great."

"No problem."  he says, lifting her into his arms.  "Hang on."  With a blur of motion they're on their way, and it's only a few seconds later before they're stopping just a few doors down from Laney's house.  John sets her down.  "Here you go, I'll see you at school tomorrow then."

"Yes, tomorrow."  With that, she turned and waddled home. 



Laney didn't even have to lie to her aunt about her injury or how she arrived safely home.  So concerned the older woman was that she filled in the blanks between Laney's strategically cryptic statements with natural assumptions. 

This was normal, after all, for the lucky one.