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Alicia hurried down the hall, glad to be done with school for the day.

As she moved effortlessly through the milling crowd, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed Sammy's home number. She was pretty sure Sammy wouldn't be home yet. Pretty sure, she assured herself, fingers crossed.

A female voice that Alicia correctly identified as Sammy's mother answered.

Without pausing, Alicia said quickly, "Hello, Mrs. Jameson? This is Alicia, Sammy's friend. I was calling to ask if I could get Mr. Jack's address and phone number. I'm supposed to go with Sammy and some of the group over to his house soon and Mom wanted to have the info just in case, y'know?"

She held her breath.

"Sure, let me get it."  Sammy's mom sets the phone down and returns a few moments later with the information.  "Tell your mom I said hello."  is Kim's parting comment as they end the call.

Alicia scribbles it down on her math homework and thanks her before hanging up.

Once outside, she decides to forgo the bus and work off some energy with a run. She's long ago worked out a standard route that will take her from school to her home, leaving her mind free to work on other stuff. She cinches her school bag to her shoulders; it doesn't seat as well as her jump bag, but it will do.

She heads off, cutting across the street and into an alley. As she runs, automatically dodging garbage cans and leaping over fences, she ponders her situation.

She has to talk to this Jack person. He's already admitted to knowing who it was that trained her. On cue, her jumbled memories of that time flash across her consciousness; the constant bruising practice, accompanied by a berating voice barking out commands. She remembers this, but the names and faces are just out of reach.

She needs to know who that mysterious trainer was. She supposes that after a while, her memories will line up nice and organized, and everything will be clear, but she wants to know now. Besides, she deliberates to herself, maybe finding some of this stuff on her own will help the pieces fall into place that much sooner.

As she bounces off a dumpster to reach a fire-escape ladder, climbs up to the roof, and continues her run across the rooftops, she reaches a decision. The question is now whether to call ahead and ask Jack or just go over to his place and show up at his door. Either approach has its risks, and by the time she sees the building where her mom and her live, she's still wavering between the two options.

Alicia makes the leap across the last gap separating her from the building where she lives.  It's a gliding motion, and she lands on the roof in a roll that has her on her feet.  She's down the drain pipe and in her window with a practiced ease, and that's when the smell hits her.  It's food, and not what she's used to smelling from the kitchen.  There are two voices.  One is her mom's, and the other is Jack's.  He's talking to her about cooking.  She's laughing.  "No, you didn't?"

"He wasn't any too happy.  He got over it, he actually had a sense of humor.  Just most people never got to see it."

Alicia freezes for a second. Whu-duh-fuh?

Carefully, she puts her bag down on her bed and slips quietly to her closed door, her ears perked to catch the conversation in the next room.

Jack continues to talk more about food, and simple cooking techniques.

"I don't know what's keeping her.  She should be back by now."  Consuelo says.

"I'm in no rush."  Alicia hears the sizzle of food soften and the sound of a spoon scooping food onto a plate.  "Try that."

Alicia hears a fork tap a plate, and her mother express her pleasure at the taste, "How did you learn to do this?"

"I've had time to learn.  When I was a kid a boy never learned to cook.  My sisters all did, but the boys were supposed to get married and have a wife do the cooking."

Consuelo giggles, "And you never found a woman to cook for you?"

"Came close a few times.  Well, sort of.  Maybe someday."

"This is very good."  Alicia hears the fork hit the plate.  "Let me call her.  She might have decided to do something with Sammy or Rhys."

Crap! Is he here to see me? Is he making moves on my mom? What's going on?

Creeping back towards the window, she makes a small jump, thumping on the floor. She calls out as she walks towards her door, "I'm home, Mom!"

"Hi honey.  Mr. Jack came by."  She comes closer to Alicia's door.  "How was your day?  Are you hungry, Jack cooked."

Alicia steps out of her room, giving Consuelo a welcome home hug and kiss and Jack a curt nod.

"I heard. Smells good. The day was okay. Hello, Mr. Jack." She comes over and offers a hand to shake. Her face turned away from her mom, she gives Jack an inquiring look.

Jack looks at her hand, shrugs and shakes it.  "Most of the kids don't really shake my hand."  He gets a plate for her, "It's nothing special, just some stir fry."

Alicia frowns. Either Jack is really that obtuse, or he's playing coy. In any case, she can't do anything about it while her mom is there.

With sudden horror, she realizes that she's told Jack about her memory loss, but not that it's a secret from Consuelo.

With forced casualness, she remarks, "So, what's the occasion? What were you talking about before I got here?" She doesn't quite manage keeping her apprehension from creeping into her voice on the last question.

"Mr. Jack was telling me about cooking, and he told a funny story about a gift he gave to Douglas McArthur.  I'm not so sure I believe it though."  She smiles.

"Scout's honor."  Jack says, raising his hand.  "I thought I'd come by and see if you were ready for some serious training."  He gets himself a plate.  "You've got potential.  It just needs honed."

"Oh-kay, good. I mean, great, that's great." Alicia smiles sickly.

She felt like she was juggling chainsaws, which normally wouldn't be a concern, but these chainsaws were on fire and spitting bees.

Trying to focus she continued, "I was thinking about it, and I'd like to start as soon as I could. I mean, if that's all right." She turned to look at her mom, using the expression she usually saved for negotiations on gift-giving occasions.

"We can head over after we eat."

"Tonight?"  Consuelo asks, then she looks back to Alicia, "Homework?"

"I make sure they get it done.  I teach a lot of the gang that was at the party."  Jack says, eying Alicia with a grin.

"Gang?"

"You need to relax Consuelo.  To me it's just a figure of speech."

Consuelo takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly.  "I worry is all."

"Mo-om," Alicia says low, in exasperation. "It's cool, OK? Sammy and the guys all take part. Their parents don't mind."

She does eye Jack with a trace of concern. The timing is a bit too convenient. She wonders if Colin passed on anything to the older man.

Dinner is a slow form of torture. Although delicious, all Alicia can think of is getting it over quickly so that she can get Jack alone and grill him on what he knows.

Alicia watches as Jack casually gets Consuelo to tell him her life story.  He shares bits and pieces of his life, they all seem anecdotal though.  She manages to skate around the subject of Alicia's father, and Jack lets her.  He's not trying to put her on the spot.  After they eat Jack offers to wash up, and Consuelo insists he let her.  She gives Alicia a kiss and then waves as they leave through the front door at a walk.

They get out of the building and on the street before Jack speaks up, "Nice lady your mom.  And no I'm not hitting on her.  I just thought I'd stop.  The principal at the school asked me if I'd try to give you some place to burn off your aggressions."

At the mention of the principal, Alicia winces. "Um, I assume you didn't mention that part to Mom? I mean, c'mon, that guy was picking on some freshman. It wasn't my fault he was stupid enough to pull back from an armlock. It wasn't even broken."

She realizes she's starting to whine and shuts up.

"Look, never mind about Mom. You said you knew who trained me. I... well, I found out some more about my past and I need to know his name."

She tries to sound serious but barely manages to rise above petulance.

"Principal Landis knows you're not picking on people for no reason.  He's just hoping I can temper your responses.  and I wouldn't mention it to your mom, since he mentioned it to me specifically so he wouldn't have to involve her."  They walk a little further.  "Oh and I'm not telling you his name.  Mainly because I'm not convinced you wont go after him, which would end badly."

"But..." she begins to protest, but subsides, mainly because she knows he's half-right.

As they continue on, she tries to explain. "Colin did... whatever it is he does and helped me get some of my memories back. A lot of it is still mixed up in my head; I remember getting the training, but I can't get a fix on his name or face. I was hoping hearing it could help clear some of it up."

She bites her lip, unsure whether to reveal the next bit, but there is something in Jack that seems to evoke trust, even to her.

"I think he was part of some group. They needed me to do a job for them. That's why they trained me. I... stole something for them, then another one of them... messed my mind up so I couldn't tell anyone."

Just talking about it makes her voice tremble. She swallows as she tries to regain her composure.

Jack nods.  "He wont have told you his name anyway.  You will have called him Master.  And he'd have beaten that into you until your wise-ass comments stopped.  He's specialized at training people in a short time.  They would have needed a space to work, like a warehouse or something.  He has a few specialized techniques.  The guy that fried your brain is a special case.  He usually keeps a woman with him, be glad that's not you.  Imagine a sex toy, a living breathing sex toy.  Reprogrammed to follow his every command.  That's what she is."

Alicia's mind once again flashes to a hated pale face framed in blond hair.

"Does this sex toy generally know how to fight?" Her voice is flat.

"He has his partner teach her.  Then they."  Jack pauses.  If it were any of the other kids he might not have even thought to mention it.  "They share her.  I need to settle an old debt with them, which is another reason I wont let you go after them.  The last thing I need is to loose you in that."

Alicia is unshaken.

"Fine. Then teach me so that I can go with you when you go." She's not asking.

"No.  But I'll teach you."

Alicia walks on a few more steps, silent but obviously trying to control her anger.

Teeth clenched, she says, "Please."

"His powers only work on girls.  Loose an X chromosome and you can come along."

Alicia takes a few deep breaths, muttering cryptically to herself, "Strawberry jam, strawberry jam..."

Finally, she says aloud, "Fine, but if you come across some skinny blond bitch going by Angel, kick her face a few times for me."

A few more breaths, and her voice is back down to more reasonable levels.

In fact, her next words are couched in earnest appeal.

"I... never told Mom about what happened to me. Please don't tell her."

"Not my place to tell her, it's yours.  And the time will come, someday.  Just like someday she'll tell you about your father."

Alicia snorts with resigned disgust.

"Yeah, right. Like that will ever happen."

After a thoughtful pause, she turns to look at Jack speculatively.

"And I bet that if you just happen to have some insight on that subject, you'll keep mum for pretty much the same reason. Am I right?"

Jack smiles.  "Two way street kid."  they continue to the house, which is an impressive brownstone mansion on a bad street not far from the lake.  The house is more impressive inside, and then Jack slides open the doors to the gym.  Everything anyone that works out seriously could want or need is in the expansive room.  The center is an open space covered with mats.  "Stretch, I need to go get something."  he says, as he leaves her alone.

Alicia follows Jack into the house, looking appropriately impressed. Seeing the gym, though, elicits an involuntary "Woah," her eyes wide as saucers.

OOC: Crap. I forgot to mention that Alicia would've changed into her work togs and brought her jump bag. Can I assume she did, pretty please? ;)

She barely acknowledges Jack's suggestion. As soon as he's out of sight, Alicia shimmies off her bag and jacket and slips her shoes and socks off. Her feet sport the same claws as her hands, although she keeps them trimmed short to avoid ripping through her shoes.

Barefoot, she steps out on the mat to test its give. She does a couple of one-legged toe touches to get in the mood, then grins.

OOC: Just to give you an idea...
(http://cache.kotaku.com/assets/resources/2007/05/spinning_biel_kick.jpg)

"Stretch? Heh."

She sets off at a run and begins a floor exercise; somersaults, cartwheels, rolls, one after the other to the other end of the mat. But it doesn't end there.

For the next sixty seconds, she traverses every corner of the room, involves every apparatus there, the only rule being that at no point in time is she standing still.

Finally, she ends it at the same point she started, a sheen of sweat evident on her body, her breathing only slightly accelerated, a huge grin pasted on her face.

She can't help it. "Gawd, that felt good!"

OOC: I see no reason why not.

Jack comes back with a long wooden case.  He sets it down and opens it, revealing an exotic looking long bladed weapon.  "Take it, feel the weight.  Then just see if your body suggests any katas to you."

Alicia's eyes fix on the weapon, her body as still as a statue.

The knife is about two and a half feet in length, a foot-long elongated, slightly curved handle supporting a curved back blade,the whole forming a lazy S in shape. The blade, ends in a bottom-first chisel point with a small hook notched on the top.

OOC: Not exactly right, but it gives the general idea.

(http://i115.photobucket.com/albums/n295/NestorDRod/hellboy_sword_2.jpg)

Slowly, she bends down to pick it up. Not a word escapes her lips.

She moves back out on the mat as if in a trance, the blade spinning slowly in her hand like a drum majorette's baton. She stops and sinks into a stance, the weapon ready in her hand.

She explodes into action. The knife swirls through the air, slashing, cutting, disembowling imaginary opponents as she moves in a graceful dance. She sweeps the blade back (catch and sweep the leg), spins it to bring down the point to the ground (stab in the belly), somersaults over the knife and brings it horizontally across above her head (block the next attack). The dance continues.

She ends the kata in a ready position facing Jack, one foot back, the other cocked, the blade held over her head and arching down in front of her face, her other hand presented below, bent to form a mirror image of the weapon.

She blinks and stumbles back a bit. She drops the knife as if it was burning hot and stares at it.

"Wh-what the F**K was that?" she stammers.

"Muscle memory.  They tell soldiers, cops, firefighters that when the shit hits the fan to remember your training.  Sometimes the brain takes the body for a walk without asking.  This is the flip side of that."  Jack comes forward, holding out his hand for the sword.  "It's his favorite weapon in the whole world.  He teaches all of his students to use it."

Alicia rubs her arms as she thinks about it. "It felt... good."

She flushes when she realizes how that sounds. To cover her discomfiture, she straightens and says in a more businesslike manner, "That's what happened at school. When that boy took a swing at me, I didn't even think about it. I just..." She mimics her remembered actions; block, redirect, takedown and lock.

As she speaks, she absent-mindedly pokes a toe underneath the knife, flips it up to her waiting hand, and, with a fluorish, presents it hilt-first toward Jack.

"How did you end up with one of these?"

Jack takes the sword and puts it back in the box.  "It got stuck in my femur.  I broke his wrist so he let go."  He closes the box and sets it on a bench.  Sitting he slips his boots and socks off, then goes to the center of the mat.  "I'm sure a doctor could tell you why it felt good.  He'd prescribe some drug to change your brain chemistry, and you'd mostly okay."  He stands in a relaxed pose.  "But there's a better way.  Burn through it, with everything you have.  Until you can't fight anymore.  Then we can start to teach you all the things he skips over.  Like discipline, restraint, and purity of purpose."

Alicia takes her place across from him, eyeing him with a crooked smile. "Something tells me this way's gonna involve more bruising."

She acknowledges the words with a shrug. "S'cool with me. I have a lot that needs burnin'."

She gives him a formal bow, bending at the waist, before sinking into a corresponding stance. "Sensei." There is no mockery in her actions, no cockiness in her expression, no defiance or challenge. Just respect; an acknowledgment of student to teacher, of supplicant to counselor.

With a nod, she says, "Let's dance."

At Combat speed Jack and Alicia are a frightening thing to see in motion.  He's stronger than her, but she's faster.  He's letting her burn through the tangled knot inside her, not trying to hurt her.  He blocks, throws, duck, weaves, dodges.  His attacks are few, and almost always his open hand in the center of her chest to send her flying.  She always manages to land on her feet, but it's those little breaks that let her settle herself, take a breath, and move back into the fray.  Jack continues this dance until she's exhausted.  Barely able to stand, let alone move.  The tingle in her muscles a sign that she's pushed herself to the very edge of her endurance.  Finally, after one of her trips to the mat she doesn't want to get up.  She still tries though. 

"Like a tea kettle when it whistles.  It's the only time you feel absolutely right.  No one will ever be able to understand it that doesn't feel the same way."  He reaches a hand down to her.  At least this time he has the decency to be breathing hard form the exertion.  "You can't think of it like a dark side.  It's like having blue eyes, or red hair.  It's just part of what makes you you.  how you use it is what makes it good or bad.  A capacity for violence does not determine weather you are good or bad.  Violence, like diplomacy is a tool.  You determine weather you are good or bad by the actions you take in life.  A man who steals from the weak but never uses violence is still committing a crime.  A girl who uses measured violence to stop a bully is still promoting good.  Like I always tell Sylvia, the world wasn't in black and white when I was young either."  He gives her a bottle of water, and takes one for himself.

Alicia takes the bottle gratefully and wobbles over to a weight bench, flopping down in an almost ungraceful manner.

Panting, she counters, "You make it sound like it's something you can turn on and off, or decide when to use. It just comes on with me. Something happens, and bang! I react. There're times when I have to force myself not to strike out."

"Products of bad teaching.  That's what we're here to fix.  People are a mixture of genetics, training, and life experiences.  You've had training in the moves, the physical aspects, but not the mentality.  Your mind has been messed with, and so we need to get in there and sort things out.  Put your head back in control of your body."

Alicia nods thoughtfully. It sounds logical, but a point occurs to her.

"That doesn't sound like a quick solution, or even a guaranteed one. What do I do in the meantime? I'm already in dutch with the gang over my attitude. I'm not sure Mr. Landis's not already fed up with me and looking to get me kicked out."

"It's not fast.  But it will work, if you want it to.  It's easy to fly off half-cocked.  Some of the stuff I show you will seem stupid and pointless.  Most things like this only make sense in hindsight.  It takes commitment.  As for the others, they will only see what you show them.  It takes time to undo the bad impressions we leave on other people.  More time to undo them then to make them that's for sure."

Alicia acknowledges the lecture glumly. "Tell me about it. I've f**ked up plenty so far."

She sighs. "Some tips on that undoing thing would help." She winces and groans as she tries to sit up. "Although not if it involves any more fighting. Right now, a grandmother with arthritis could kick my ass."

"Now we learn to breath."  Jack takes her to the center of the floor.  He sits Indian style.  "As for undoing, all you can do is try to be the new and ever changing you.  When the urge for violence comes on you, try to find out where it's coming from.  Then think.  Thinking gives the body time to adjust it's chemistry.  If you get angry then chances are violence isn't what you need.  Violence should always be a decision.  Even if it's in the back of your mind, it's a decision.  If you move to violence without thought, you're a slave to your chemistry."

Jack spends the next hour teaching Alicia how to breath.  Then some Yoga to ease tension.

Alicia takes to breathing exercises easily. The yoga is even more fascinating, as her natural suppleness allows her to twist into shapes no normal human could contemplate without wincing in anticipated pain.

It's hard for her to clear her mind, though. Her brain is buzzing, as new concepts flit around and find niches where to seat themselves and form new outlooks and insights.

She dutifully follows Jack's lead, though, obeying his instructions and paying attention to his lessons.

Slowly, a realization blooms. So far in her life, she'd felt like a passenger in a car with no driver careening down a dark road, able to only hang on in fear. Now, she's been given the chance to grab the wheel. She still has no idea where she is, or where the road leads, but at least now she has a chance to control her destiny.

The thought warms her, in a way even she can't really comprehend.

When they're done, Jack has her get her stuff and walks her home.  "We can work as much as you like.  Kel, the last serious combatant the group had was here almost every day.  But, there is a price.  You have to keep up on your school work.  You don't have to be an 'A' student, but you have to pass your classes.  That will keep your mother off your back, and mine.  It's up to you how much time you want to commit to this."

Alicia grumbles, half-jokingly, "Great. There goes my naptime."

She walks a little further and asks, "So... you really broke his wrist?" She doesn't need to specify who "he" is.

"It seemed the best way to get him to let go of the sword.  Otherwise he would have just kept tugging on it until he broke my leg.  My screaming didn't seem to be working as a deterrent."

Alicia giggles in spite of herself. She gives Jack a guilty glance. "Sorry."

After some more distance is covered, Alicia asks softly, "Do you know something about my father?"

Jack shrugs.  "You'd be surprised at how many people with cat eyes and claws I've met."  He looks up at the night sky, "Hell, I'm surprised."  He shrugs again, "Anyway, I have some clues, and a bunch of people that look for things for me.  I guess they might be groupies if I were a rock star.  In the end though, it's just curiosity.  We will have whatever relationship we have regardless fo who your friends are, who your parents are, or who your enemies are."

Alicia nods, not quite understanding the words but recognizing their intent.

The next question comes unbidden from her mouth before she can think about it. "Do you have any kids?"

As soon as she says it, she flushes in embarrassment and hastens to add. "I'm sorry. Never mind."

"I've never gotten to be a dad.  I had a daughter, but she died before I ever got to meet her.  I know my granddaughter though, and her kids.  I spend some holiday's with them.  I try not to get too attached."  he shrugs again, "I might have more kids out there.  No one has ever told me though.  I guess they realize how much of a strange situation that would be."

Alicia has the sense not to draw out what she can see is an uncomfortable subject.

She tries to shift topics in as subtle a manner as she can manage.

"So, you said I can show up for sessions any time? Can I come by and just... work out?"

"I'm there most of the time, but call first."  He gives her his phone number.  "You can also just come by to talk, or stare in silence at the TV.  I watch a lot of movies."

She dutifully takes the number without revealing she'd already obtained it through other means.

"Thanks," she says.

She stops and looks at him. She repeats, "Thank you." It's obvious by the tone there's a lot more left unsaid.

Jack leaves her at the door to her apartment building, continuing on into the evening with a wave good-bye.