*N Sync. Night is always Black before Dawn.
Title: Night is always Black before Dawn.
Fandom: Popslash.
Characters: Chris Kirkpatrick / Joey Fatone
Prompt: 018. Black
Word Count: 3,430
Summary: When you have superheroes in your world, sooner or later you also get other things.
Author's Notes: What? You thought I forgot? Nope. Still doing this. Sorry for the delay, but Chris just decided to stop cooperating after he read the synopsis. It took Joey and JC to convince him to stop his one man strike. Dedicated with a lot of love to joshysleo, to milosflaca and with a big hug to otherdeb because she's cool.
* * *
Before the discoball incident, Chris loved parties. If he wasn’t organizing one, he was looking for one to be invited to. It was in his nature. He hated to be alone, and partying until the crack of dawn was a good excuse not to be alone.
After the incident, parties weren’t that much fun anymore. In part, it was because he couldn’t just let his mind wander. He had to stay focused on what he was doing, or his body would change shape on its own. And since alcohol didn’t numb his senses anymore, he could drink all he wanted and not feel even a buzz. It was boring as hell. Not only that but, whenever JC, Joey or Lance were around, Chris couldn’t stop feeling that he had been somehow become their designed driver. He was the one who had to invent an excuse for them to leave, to keep their so-called secret identities secret.
On those days, Chris hated his friends. It only lasted for a moment, because in truth he did loved them, but it didn’t change the fact that he still felt as if his life had been ruined by JC’s lack of interior design taste, and Joey’s unearthly love for comic books.
So he avoided parties where he knew the others would be. Which in turn led to him avoiding them completely, because Chris certainly didn’t want to go another round of “JC should stop using his powers altogether before he causes someone brain damage”.
But he couldn’t completely avoid Justin.
Despite all the changes that JC had caused in Justin, Justin was still Chris’s friend. Sure, now on occasion, the kid acted as if they hadn’t been friends for the last six years. On occasion, Justin even acted as if *N Sync didn’t matter at all, but Chris knew that was JC’s fault, not Justin’s. The worst part was when Justin seemed to forget that Chris was his friend, forgot to call, forgot everything.
Which was why, usually, Chris wasn’t Chris when he was partying with Justin. He had been everyone he could think of that Justin could be interested on talking too, just to keep him safe from future Miss Poisoners. But for some reason, the attacks had stopped.
There had been no shootings, no hostage situations, not even a lame attempt at faking a car accident. In the seven months that followed *N Sync’s final reunion for the Grammy, it seemed as Mr. E. had forgotten all about his vendetta against Justin.
Chris surely hoped so. While he had no problem following Justin around, he was sure he would enjoy it more if Justin wasn’t in danger all the time.
* * *
The screen flickered to show the guests at Justin Timberlake’s solo album launch party and Brad risked a glance at his boss.
Brad wasn’t a bad man. He cared about his family, about the baby that his wife was expecting, about his neighbour and his neighbor’s cat, even if he was allergic. But to keep paying his bills, he had some very unsavoury jobs that included sometimes, killing other people. He felt bad about it, and always repented, but when it was either them or him, Brad didn’t see much choice.
Which was why he had ended up working for Mr. E. No one could tell it if they saw Mr. E outside, in his other ‘day’ job, but the truth was that Brad’s boss was a very cunning man, who would one day control half the crime in the United States. He already had the money to do so, if he wanted, even if no one would believe it.
The one thing that stood between Mr. E and his empire was that sometimes, Mr. E got the strangest obsessions in his head. Like the one that had been the number one priority of Brad for the last two years, namely, the head of one Justin Randall Timberlake.
“We still could take him now,” Brad dared to say out loud. He wasn’t the second in command yet, but he was on his way. “Take a couple of men, grab him at the exit. He would be out of your hair before tomorrow.”
“No, it is fine,” Mr. E smiled, as Timberlake threw his arm around one of his former bandmates. Fitzpatrick or something. “Timberlake is no longer a threat. We can move to more rewarding targets.”
Joe frowned, looking back at his boss. They had lost some friends in the multiple attempts against the pop singer’s life. Brad had almost been captured by those damn superheroes that had appeared out of nowhere to defend Timberlake.
“Sir, with all due respect, I thought Timberlake had to be terminated,” Brad said, waiting. Mr. E. had a terrible temper at times.
“He’s been taken care of in a different way,” Mr. E. said, smiling. Before Brad could ask exactly what he meant, his boss’s cell phone rang. The tune was, not surprisingly, ‘I’m a slave for you’. The boss was a big Britney Spears fan. “Yes. Yes, I am watching. He is alone. There’s nothing to worry about now.”
* * *
Life moved on, despite Chris’s best wishes that it wouldn’t. His own life got to be routine. He followied Justin around the country, every day with a different face. The fact that there hadn’t been any new attempts didn’t change that Chris still felt a need to keep an alert eye.
If anything, he was a lot more discreet than JC, Joey and Lance.
Superguy, Lightning and Flame were practically permanent fixtures on the late night news. The one consolation for Chris was that, without *N Sync touring, there was no reason for the press to connect them to the trio of ‘superheroes’.
They stopped robberies, a couple of hostage situations, and Joey had actually saved a plane from crashing, comic-book style. Even Chris had to admit that one had looked cool. Their costumes had improved too, and while Chris was thankful that no underwear over tights were included (In fact, there were no tights included), they no longer looked as if they were wearing old *N Sync stage costumes.
Superguy, obviously forgetting things like trademarks and taking advantage of the fact that no one knew who he was so no one could sue him, was now wearing form-fitting blue jeans, black construction boots, a black t-shirt with the Superman shield printed backwards, and a half-face mask, similar to the one Captain America was drawn with, only without the “A.” (Years later, DC would take a small, petty revenge by modelling Superboy’s new uniform after Superguy’s uniform.)
Lightning looked like a rogue electric company employee, wearing an insulated orange coverall similar to those used by the electric company workers, with a gas mask covering his face. The one thing everyone had been able to see was that Lightning was, maybe, blonde. When he fought, he took off the orange jacket, revealing a black tanktop with a blue lightning streak sprayed on it (Chris knew that Joey had done that, insisting that every superhero needed a shield).
For all that the public knew, Flame could very well be naked, as the constant lightshow that accompanied him made it impossible to see more than his silhouette. The truth was that Flame wore a very bright coverall, that shone with light and, of course, that only amplified his own sparks. Chris had seen the suit without the extra lights, and knew that there were even different colored spots on the jacket. Underneath, JC wore a simple white t-shirt, which also reflected the light, so even if someone was unlucky enough to manage to tear the suit, there would be no stopping of the light show.
The problem, in Chris’s opinion, was that even if JC’s light show still worked on the people at the scene of the Terrific Trio’s superheroic rescues (And, honestly, Terrific Trio? sounded very lame), the press still managed to remember enough to make very good reports. They were calling attention to themselves, and Chris was sure that that was the last thing they wanted to do.
The last time he had tried to bring that up with Joey, they had argued, badly.
“You could join us, you know? It wouldn’t be the same as when we perform, but we would be a team,” Joey had said at one point, after telling Chris about Briahna’s latest mishap with her mother’s makeup and the wall of her nursery. “We could be like the Fantastic Four.”
“Someone needs to keep an eye on Justin,” Chris answered, trying to keep his voice even. “And I still think you guys are doing something eminently stupid.”
“Chris, there have been no attacks on Justin in months! He’s perfectly safe with Lonnie. And we are getting better, far more careful now.”
“I’m not talking about the masks, Joey, although those were a good idea,” Chris admitted. “I’m talking about everything. We don’t know what caused us to have powers, we don’t really understand how they work, and I still think that JC is one step away from giving someone an accidental lobotomy!”
“You know?” Joey half growled, sounding annoyed. “For someone who claims to hate our powers so much, you use them a lot more than we do.”
“I don’t do that,” Chris mumbled quickly, as he forced his fist to turn back to it’s normal size. Every time he got mad, his body bulked, Hulk-style.
“Chris, I can see you from here.” Joey sounded a bit calmer. “And I recognize your heart beat even if you’re looking like Paris Hilton at Justin’s parties. When was the last time you looked like you?”
“When was the last time JC wasn’t surrounded by sparks?” Chris countered. No matter what Joey said, he wasn’t abusing his powers. Not like they were.
“Chris, come on! That’s not fair of you. We’re helping people!” Joey insisted. “It’s not as if we’re doing it just for ourselves!”
“So what? You think I enjoy being a different girl every time Justin decides to throw a party?!” Chris yelled, feeling insulted. “You think I like the fact that our best friend seems to have forgotten that we’re friends?”
“It was an accident! JC didn’t mean for that to happen!” Joey yelled, sounding quite angry.
“Well, if he wasn’t such a fan of brainwashing people, itwouldn’t have happened!” Chris answered. He was so angry that he just hung up on Joey.
And yes, he admitted that he changed shape a lot, even when it wasn’t necessary. It had become as automatic as breathing, and it took a lot of concentration not to do it in public. Chris was aware of that, and that was the real reason why he seldom went as himself to Justin’s parties. When he was someone else, his concentration didn’t slip.
Besides, although he hadn’t told the others, his powers had evolved too. It had been startling, when he had been rapping his fingers against his dinning room table, and his whole arm turned into wood. After that, Chris made some experiments, which led him to realize that now he could not only change to look like other people, animals and objects, he now could take on their properties. If he wanted to be as invulnerable as Joey, he only needed to turn into living steel.
What worried him about was that it was far too easy to do. He could forget not to use his powers for a moment, and not realize he had done so until his head touched the ceiling or something similar happened. Sex with anyone was almost out of the question, unless he wasn’t himself, and that only helped to make Chris feel as if he was using his partners, so for the last six months or so he had been completely celibate.
But what really bothered Chris was that, despite all his misgivings, now he couldn’t imagine living without his powers.
* * *
“As has become their habit, the Terrific Trio left the scene immediately after handing the thieves to the authorities. This marks the fifth appearance of these strange superheroes in the city of Minneapolis and local…”
The voice on the tv died out as the man in black pressed the mute button. On the screen, the image of the three superheroes stopping the bank robbery was still frozen. It had been a year and a half since they had appeared, and he still hadn’t figured out any way to discover their identities. It was starting to worry him.
“Do you want us to do something about this, boss?” the woman standing next to him asked. She was a tall woman with chiseled features. Not attractive in a conventional, feminine way, but still commanding enough to make heads turn. If she smiled at you, you would melt. If she frowned at you, you would be scared to death. That alone made her a great second in command, not taking into account her other talents. “I can summon the special forces.”
“It might be necessary, dear Vanessa,” the man said, shaking his head. “It is a pity, though. Usually we can deal with this unpleasantness without revealing ourselves.”
“We can be discreet, sir,” Vanessa assured him, her eyes turning completely dark. “You just need to give the order.”
“Has Mr. E. called again?” It was a distraction, but a welcome one. The business of having mercenaries for hire paid a lot better than his ‘honest’ work, and it didn’t have as many unexpected side effects.
“No, sir. Since our unexpected friends stopped the squad he hired, Mr. E. hasn’t called again,” Vanessa still sounded professional and calm, but the man in black knew she was angry. She always got mad when something interrupted business.
“Then that settles it, dear Vanessa,” the man in black said, shaking his head. He wasn’t particularly happy regarding the new events. “We have to deal with them. Any suggestion for the strike team?”
* * *
It had all started as a routine hit. A bank robbery in San Diego had escalated to a hostage situation, leaving the SWAT team unable to get in without risking the hostages, so Superguy, Lightning and Flame had come to the rescue. Hostage situations were when Flame’s powers were most useful since even when his sparks were totally useless against being taped, he still could dazzle the kidnappers into oblivion. In those cases, Lightning and Superguy were mostly back up.
They went in, as always, Superguy in front, Flame’s lights right behind to confuse everyone. It was a good plan; it was their usual plan and it had never failed.
However, as soon as they got in things went sour. The very second that Flame entered the room, darkness enveloped him. It wasn’t natural darkness, to Flame it felt as if someone had poured a vat of Nickelodeon goop on top of him, and it was so black that he couldn’t even see the sparks in front of his eyes. It was as if he had gone completely blind.
Superguy noticed immediately that something was wrong with Flame, and he tried to stop Lightning from entering. However, something hit him hard, and he found himself in pain, flying backwards out of the room and towards the farthest wall in the building, before he could figure out what was going on.
Hostages and guards were tied up in the far corner, but instead of a group of armed robbers, the only other people in the room were two women, dressed in black coveralls. One of them was pointing towards the black blob where Flame was captured. The other was smiling at Lightning, looking threatening.
“I apologize for the lack of finesse,” the woman said, calmly. “We only want to talk, and we’ll free these civilians after you agree to our deal.”
“Who are you?” Lightning asked, trying to formulate a plan. It was the first time they encountered someone else with powers; after all this time they thought they were the only ones in the world.
“I’m #1, she’s #2,” the woman said. “That’s all you need to know. My boss isn’t happy about you and your friends, so consider this a cease and desist letter. Either you join us, or you stop.”
“Your boss? Who is your boss?” Lightning was starting to get worried about Flame and Superguy, and he was wondering if he could electrify the two strange women and then look for the others. At the same time, it was obvious to him that the women were quite at ease with their powers, and it was his one chance to maybe get more information about superpowered people. “So, if you’re not looking for a fight, why did you attack us?”
“Two and three took care of your friends because we knew they aren’t easy to talk to,” she said, sounding just like Pearlman’s business lawyers back in 1999. She was trying to bully Lightning. “We can take armies down if we want to, but I am hoping it won’t be necessary. Not if you join us.”
“You staged a bank robbery to call our attention… that pretty much tells me that we don’t want anything to do with you or your boss,” Lightning had gathered all the energy he could from the building, and he was ready to electrocute the smirking woman when something hit him on the back, sending him to the floor.
“Sorry, dude,” Superguy said, helping Lightning to get on his feet. “Didn’t see you there.”
“I’m fine,” Lightning answered, looking at the woman who was getting up next to #1. “I take you didn’t pull your punches on Miss Three.”
“That’s her name?” Superguy frowned. “I didn’t ask her. I mean, I didn’t want to hit her, but she packs a punch.”
A burst of wind came from #1’s hands, making Lightning lose his footing, but thankfully, Superguy was behind him to keep him anchored to the floor.
“Cool, so we’ve got Powergirl, Storm and Umbra,” Superguy laughed in Lighting’s ear. “I know how we can beat them.”
“Please tell me that you are not doing strategy out of comic books again.” Lighting smiled. “What do I do?”
“Zap the darkness girl, I’ll take care of Windy.” Superguy took a deep breath before blowing with all his might, just as Lightning released his energy against #2. It wasn’t enough to render her unconscious, but it broke her concentration enough so the dark blob surrounding Flame abated. Lightning ran to his friend, who seemed in shock.
“So… cold…” Flame was stuttering, his eyes closed. The lights around his body were spinning wildly, like panicked bees, around them.
“You three are quite resourceful,” A fourth female voice said behind them. “Pity we won’t get to use that imagination.”
Before Superguy or Lightning could turn around to see the newcomer, a bright white light blinded them all.
* * *
Chris had been watching the latest Terrific Trio adventure on television when the bank blew up, but he hadn’t been too worried about it. He was sure that Lance or Joey would call him soon enough, telling him how they had escaped the latest death trap. Joey would probably do a comic book analogy, and Lance would try again to convince him to join them in their crime-fighting escapades.
But when seven hours passed and there was no sign of his friends, he started worrying. When nine hours had passed, he was so panicked, that he was walking in circles, changing shapes with every step, talking to himself as he walked. One step, he was Justin, saying that it wasn’t nothing to be worried about. Next step, he was Lance, trying to come up with theories of why they hadn’t called him. Next he took on Joey’s voice, calming himself and explaining how heroes always came up on top. Finally, he was JC, and Chris looked at the mirror, using his own voice, swearing that if JC was fine, then he would forget the silly fights, the stupid discussions, and beg for JC’s forgiveness.
It took 24 hours before he had news from his friends, and when he did, Chris couldn’t believe it.
They came to his door, looking beaten, tired, and as if they hadn’t eaten in weeks. JC was practically in a coma.
“What happened?” he asked to Joey, just as Lance carried JC inside.
“Our powers,” Joey murmured. His voice sounded raspy, as if he hadn’t had a drink in two or three days. “They’re gone…”
To be continued…
Fandom: Popslash.
Characters: Chris Kirkpatrick / Joey Fatone
Prompt: 018. Black
Word Count: 3,430
Summary: When you have superheroes in your world, sooner or later you also get other things.
Author's Notes: What? You thought I forgot? Nope. Still doing this. Sorry for the delay, but Chris just decided to stop cooperating after he read the synopsis. It took Joey and JC to convince him to stop his one man strike. Dedicated with a lot of love to joshysleo, to milosflaca and with a big hug to otherdeb because she's cool.
* * *
Before the discoball incident, Chris loved parties. If he wasn’t organizing one, he was looking for one to be invited to. It was in his nature. He hated to be alone, and partying until the crack of dawn was a good excuse not to be alone.
After the incident, parties weren’t that much fun anymore. In part, it was because he couldn’t just let his mind wander. He had to stay focused on what he was doing, or his body would change shape on its own. And since alcohol didn’t numb his senses anymore, he could drink all he wanted and not feel even a buzz. It was boring as hell. Not only that but, whenever JC, Joey or Lance were around, Chris couldn’t stop feeling that he had been somehow become their designed driver. He was the one who had to invent an excuse for them to leave, to keep their so-called secret identities secret.
On those days, Chris hated his friends. It only lasted for a moment, because in truth he did loved them, but it didn’t change the fact that he still felt as if his life had been ruined by JC’s lack of interior design taste, and Joey’s unearthly love for comic books.
So he avoided parties where he knew the others would be. Which in turn led to him avoiding them completely, because Chris certainly didn’t want to go another round of “JC should stop using his powers altogether before he causes someone brain damage”.
But he couldn’t completely avoid Justin.
Despite all the changes that JC had caused in Justin, Justin was still Chris’s friend. Sure, now on occasion, the kid acted as if they hadn’t been friends for the last six years. On occasion, Justin even acted as if *N Sync didn’t matter at all, but Chris knew that was JC’s fault, not Justin’s. The worst part was when Justin seemed to forget that Chris was his friend, forgot to call, forgot everything.
Which was why, usually, Chris wasn’t Chris when he was partying with Justin. He had been everyone he could think of that Justin could be interested on talking too, just to keep him safe from future Miss Poisoners. But for some reason, the attacks had stopped.
There had been no shootings, no hostage situations, not even a lame attempt at faking a car accident. In the seven months that followed *N Sync’s final reunion for the Grammy, it seemed as Mr. E. had forgotten all about his vendetta against Justin.
Chris surely hoped so. While he had no problem following Justin around, he was sure he would enjoy it more if Justin wasn’t in danger all the time.
* * *
The screen flickered to show the guests at Justin Timberlake’s solo album launch party and Brad risked a glance at his boss.
Brad wasn’t a bad man. He cared about his family, about the baby that his wife was expecting, about his neighbour and his neighbor’s cat, even if he was allergic. But to keep paying his bills, he had some very unsavoury jobs that included sometimes, killing other people. He felt bad about it, and always repented, but when it was either them or him, Brad didn’t see much choice.
Which was why he had ended up working for Mr. E. No one could tell it if they saw Mr. E outside, in his other ‘day’ job, but the truth was that Brad’s boss was a very cunning man, who would one day control half the crime in the United States. He already had the money to do so, if he wanted, even if no one would believe it.
The one thing that stood between Mr. E and his empire was that sometimes, Mr. E got the strangest obsessions in his head. Like the one that had been the number one priority of Brad for the last two years, namely, the head of one Justin Randall Timberlake.
“We still could take him now,” Brad dared to say out loud. He wasn’t the second in command yet, but he was on his way. “Take a couple of men, grab him at the exit. He would be out of your hair before tomorrow.”
“No, it is fine,” Mr. E smiled, as Timberlake threw his arm around one of his former bandmates. Fitzpatrick or something. “Timberlake is no longer a threat. We can move to more rewarding targets.”
Joe frowned, looking back at his boss. They had lost some friends in the multiple attempts against the pop singer’s life. Brad had almost been captured by those damn superheroes that had appeared out of nowhere to defend Timberlake.
“Sir, with all due respect, I thought Timberlake had to be terminated,” Brad said, waiting. Mr. E. had a terrible temper at times.
“He’s been taken care of in a different way,” Mr. E. said, smiling. Before Brad could ask exactly what he meant, his boss’s cell phone rang. The tune was, not surprisingly, ‘I’m a slave for you’. The boss was a big Britney Spears fan. “Yes. Yes, I am watching. He is alone. There’s nothing to worry about now.”
* * *
Life moved on, despite Chris’s best wishes that it wouldn’t. His own life got to be routine. He followied Justin around the country, every day with a different face. The fact that there hadn’t been any new attempts didn’t change that Chris still felt a need to keep an alert eye.
If anything, he was a lot more discreet than JC, Joey and Lance.
Superguy, Lightning and Flame were practically permanent fixtures on the late night news. The one consolation for Chris was that, without *N Sync touring, there was no reason for the press to connect them to the trio of ‘superheroes’.
They stopped robberies, a couple of hostage situations, and Joey had actually saved a plane from crashing, comic-book style. Even Chris had to admit that one had looked cool. Their costumes had improved too, and while Chris was thankful that no underwear over tights were included (In fact, there were no tights included), they no longer looked as if they were wearing old *N Sync stage costumes.
Superguy, obviously forgetting things like trademarks and taking advantage of the fact that no one knew who he was so no one could sue him, was now wearing form-fitting blue jeans, black construction boots, a black t-shirt with the Superman shield printed backwards, and a half-face mask, similar to the one Captain America was drawn with, only without the “A.” (Years later, DC would take a small, petty revenge by modelling Superboy’s new uniform after Superguy’s uniform.)
Lightning looked like a rogue electric company employee, wearing an insulated orange coverall similar to those used by the electric company workers, with a gas mask covering his face. The one thing everyone had been able to see was that Lightning was, maybe, blonde. When he fought, he took off the orange jacket, revealing a black tanktop with a blue lightning streak sprayed on it (Chris knew that Joey had done that, insisting that every superhero needed a shield).
For all that the public knew, Flame could very well be naked, as the constant lightshow that accompanied him made it impossible to see more than his silhouette. The truth was that Flame wore a very bright coverall, that shone with light and, of course, that only amplified his own sparks. Chris had seen the suit without the extra lights, and knew that there were even different colored spots on the jacket. Underneath, JC wore a simple white t-shirt, which also reflected the light, so even if someone was unlucky enough to manage to tear the suit, there would be no stopping of the light show.
The problem, in Chris’s opinion, was that even if JC’s light show still worked on the people at the scene of the Terrific Trio’s superheroic rescues (And, honestly, Terrific Trio? sounded very lame), the press still managed to remember enough to make very good reports. They were calling attention to themselves, and Chris was sure that that was the last thing they wanted to do.
The last time he had tried to bring that up with Joey, they had argued, badly.
“You could join us, you know? It wouldn’t be the same as when we perform, but we would be a team,” Joey had said at one point, after telling Chris about Briahna’s latest mishap with her mother’s makeup and the wall of her nursery. “We could be like the Fantastic Four.”
“Someone needs to keep an eye on Justin,” Chris answered, trying to keep his voice even. “And I still think you guys are doing something eminently stupid.”
“Chris, there have been no attacks on Justin in months! He’s perfectly safe with Lonnie. And we are getting better, far more careful now.”
“I’m not talking about the masks, Joey, although those were a good idea,” Chris admitted. “I’m talking about everything. We don’t know what caused us to have powers, we don’t really understand how they work, and I still think that JC is one step away from giving someone an accidental lobotomy!”
“You know?” Joey half growled, sounding annoyed. “For someone who claims to hate our powers so much, you use them a lot more than we do.”
“I don’t do that,” Chris mumbled quickly, as he forced his fist to turn back to it’s normal size. Every time he got mad, his body bulked, Hulk-style.
“Chris, I can see you from here.” Joey sounded a bit calmer. “And I recognize your heart beat even if you’re looking like Paris Hilton at Justin’s parties. When was the last time you looked like you?”
“When was the last time JC wasn’t surrounded by sparks?” Chris countered. No matter what Joey said, he wasn’t abusing his powers. Not like they were.
“Chris, come on! That’s not fair of you. We’re helping people!” Joey insisted. “It’s not as if we’re doing it just for ourselves!”
“So what? You think I enjoy being a different girl every time Justin decides to throw a party?!” Chris yelled, feeling insulted. “You think I like the fact that our best friend seems to have forgotten that we’re friends?”
“It was an accident! JC didn’t mean for that to happen!” Joey yelled, sounding quite angry.
“Well, if he wasn’t such a fan of brainwashing people, itwouldn’t have happened!” Chris answered. He was so angry that he just hung up on Joey.
And yes, he admitted that he changed shape a lot, even when it wasn’t necessary. It had become as automatic as breathing, and it took a lot of concentration not to do it in public. Chris was aware of that, and that was the real reason why he seldom went as himself to Justin’s parties. When he was someone else, his concentration didn’t slip.
Besides, although he hadn’t told the others, his powers had evolved too. It had been startling, when he had been rapping his fingers against his dinning room table, and his whole arm turned into wood. After that, Chris made some experiments, which led him to realize that now he could not only change to look like other people, animals and objects, he now could take on their properties. If he wanted to be as invulnerable as Joey, he only needed to turn into living steel.
What worried him about was that it was far too easy to do. He could forget not to use his powers for a moment, and not realize he had done so until his head touched the ceiling or something similar happened. Sex with anyone was almost out of the question, unless he wasn’t himself, and that only helped to make Chris feel as if he was using his partners, so for the last six months or so he had been completely celibate.
But what really bothered Chris was that, despite all his misgivings, now he couldn’t imagine living without his powers.
* * *
“As has become their habit, the Terrific Trio left the scene immediately after handing the thieves to the authorities. This marks the fifth appearance of these strange superheroes in the city of Minneapolis and local…”
The voice on the tv died out as the man in black pressed the mute button. On the screen, the image of the three superheroes stopping the bank robbery was still frozen. It had been a year and a half since they had appeared, and he still hadn’t figured out any way to discover their identities. It was starting to worry him.
“Do you want us to do something about this, boss?” the woman standing next to him asked. She was a tall woman with chiseled features. Not attractive in a conventional, feminine way, but still commanding enough to make heads turn. If she smiled at you, you would melt. If she frowned at you, you would be scared to death. That alone made her a great second in command, not taking into account her other talents. “I can summon the special forces.”
“It might be necessary, dear Vanessa,” the man said, shaking his head. “It is a pity, though. Usually we can deal with this unpleasantness without revealing ourselves.”
“We can be discreet, sir,” Vanessa assured him, her eyes turning completely dark. “You just need to give the order.”
“Has Mr. E. called again?” It was a distraction, but a welcome one. The business of having mercenaries for hire paid a lot better than his ‘honest’ work, and it didn’t have as many unexpected side effects.
“No, sir. Since our unexpected friends stopped the squad he hired, Mr. E. hasn’t called again,” Vanessa still sounded professional and calm, but the man in black knew she was angry. She always got mad when something interrupted business.
“Then that settles it, dear Vanessa,” the man in black said, shaking his head. He wasn’t particularly happy regarding the new events. “We have to deal with them. Any suggestion for the strike team?”
* * *
It had all started as a routine hit. A bank robbery in San Diego had escalated to a hostage situation, leaving the SWAT team unable to get in without risking the hostages, so Superguy, Lightning and Flame had come to the rescue. Hostage situations were when Flame’s powers were most useful since even when his sparks were totally useless against being taped, he still could dazzle the kidnappers into oblivion. In those cases, Lightning and Superguy were mostly back up.
They went in, as always, Superguy in front, Flame’s lights right behind to confuse everyone. It was a good plan; it was their usual plan and it had never failed.
However, as soon as they got in things went sour. The very second that Flame entered the room, darkness enveloped him. It wasn’t natural darkness, to Flame it felt as if someone had poured a vat of Nickelodeon goop on top of him, and it was so black that he couldn’t even see the sparks in front of his eyes. It was as if he had gone completely blind.
Superguy noticed immediately that something was wrong with Flame, and he tried to stop Lightning from entering. However, something hit him hard, and he found himself in pain, flying backwards out of the room and towards the farthest wall in the building, before he could figure out what was going on.
Hostages and guards were tied up in the far corner, but instead of a group of armed robbers, the only other people in the room were two women, dressed in black coveralls. One of them was pointing towards the black blob where Flame was captured. The other was smiling at Lightning, looking threatening.
“I apologize for the lack of finesse,” the woman said, calmly. “We only want to talk, and we’ll free these civilians after you agree to our deal.”
“Who are you?” Lightning asked, trying to formulate a plan. It was the first time they encountered someone else with powers; after all this time they thought they were the only ones in the world.
“I’m #1, she’s #2,” the woman said. “That’s all you need to know. My boss isn’t happy about you and your friends, so consider this a cease and desist letter. Either you join us, or you stop.”
“Your boss? Who is your boss?” Lightning was starting to get worried about Flame and Superguy, and he was wondering if he could electrify the two strange women and then look for the others. At the same time, it was obvious to him that the women were quite at ease with their powers, and it was his one chance to maybe get more information about superpowered people. “So, if you’re not looking for a fight, why did you attack us?”
“Two and three took care of your friends because we knew they aren’t easy to talk to,” she said, sounding just like Pearlman’s business lawyers back in 1999. She was trying to bully Lightning. “We can take armies down if we want to, but I am hoping it won’t be necessary. Not if you join us.”
“You staged a bank robbery to call our attention… that pretty much tells me that we don’t want anything to do with you or your boss,” Lightning had gathered all the energy he could from the building, and he was ready to electrocute the smirking woman when something hit him on the back, sending him to the floor.
“Sorry, dude,” Superguy said, helping Lightning to get on his feet. “Didn’t see you there.”
“I’m fine,” Lightning answered, looking at the woman who was getting up next to #1. “I take you didn’t pull your punches on Miss Three.”
“That’s her name?” Superguy frowned. “I didn’t ask her. I mean, I didn’t want to hit her, but she packs a punch.”
A burst of wind came from #1’s hands, making Lightning lose his footing, but thankfully, Superguy was behind him to keep him anchored to the floor.
“Cool, so we’ve got Powergirl, Storm and Umbra,” Superguy laughed in Lighting’s ear. “I know how we can beat them.”
“Please tell me that you are not doing strategy out of comic books again.” Lighting smiled. “What do I do?”
“Zap the darkness girl, I’ll take care of Windy.” Superguy took a deep breath before blowing with all his might, just as Lightning released his energy against #2. It wasn’t enough to render her unconscious, but it broke her concentration enough so the dark blob surrounding Flame abated. Lightning ran to his friend, who seemed in shock.
“So… cold…” Flame was stuttering, his eyes closed. The lights around his body were spinning wildly, like panicked bees, around them.
“You three are quite resourceful,” A fourth female voice said behind them. “Pity we won’t get to use that imagination.”
Before Superguy or Lightning could turn around to see the newcomer, a bright white light blinded them all.
* * *
Chris had been watching the latest Terrific Trio adventure on television when the bank blew up, but he hadn’t been too worried about it. He was sure that Lance or Joey would call him soon enough, telling him how they had escaped the latest death trap. Joey would probably do a comic book analogy, and Lance would try again to convince him to join them in their crime-fighting escapades.
But when seven hours passed and there was no sign of his friends, he started worrying. When nine hours had passed, he was so panicked, that he was walking in circles, changing shapes with every step, talking to himself as he walked. One step, he was Justin, saying that it wasn’t nothing to be worried about. Next step, he was Lance, trying to come up with theories of why they hadn’t called him. Next he took on Joey’s voice, calming himself and explaining how heroes always came up on top. Finally, he was JC, and Chris looked at the mirror, using his own voice, swearing that if JC was fine, then he would forget the silly fights, the stupid discussions, and beg for JC’s forgiveness.
It took 24 hours before he had news from his friends, and when he did, Chris couldn’t believe it.
They came to his door, looking beaten, tired, and as if they hadn’t eaten in weeks. JC was practically in a coma.
“What happened?” he asked to Joey, just as Lance carried JC inside.
“Our powers,” Joey murmured. His voice sounded raspy, as if he hadn’t had a drink in two or three days. “They’re gone…”
To be continued…