🚀 go-pugleaf

[Continued from Part One]

     Julie smiled to herself and examined a guy at the other side of
the bar.  "This is the life."
     "Oh, please."  Tina sighed and glared at someone grinning at her.
What this *is* is a waste of time.
     "That's because you're scaring off every cute guy who looks at
you, ex-boss."  Lee sighed.  "Can you at least step off to the side
and not scare them away from the rest of us?"
     "Why me?"
     Kim came back to the table with another glass, looking only a bit
happier than Tina.  "It's because we're sheep who get led the worst
places.  Isn't that obvious?"
     "Of course."  Tina looked down in her drink.  "So, we're supposed
to find someone good in this dark, filthy bar that hasn't ever had a
good band in its entire existence?"
     "Hm."  Lee looked over at Julie.  "I'm starting to get the
impression she's not happy."
     "Maybe.  Or she might just need to loosen up some."
     Lee nodded slowly.  "So we get her drunk and toss her off with
the first good looking guy who comes around?"
     "That might be overkill, but it's a step in the right direction."
     Tina blinked between the two and turned to Kim.  "Help?"
     "If you want to try running, I might be able to hold them off."
     Lee shook her head.  "Nah, we can take you."
     "Guys, guys..."  Kim sighed.  "Tina won't glare at anyone if you
don't encourage them?"
     "Mmm, what do you think?"  Lee looked at Julie.
     Julie shrugged.  "That's okay.  For now."
     Tina nodded a bit.  "All right.  I just don't like getting stared
at.  If I would've known we were coming *here*..."
     "You never would have come," Julie ended.  "And you'd end up
alone on yet another Friday night.  Come on, don't you want to get
*out*?"
     Kim smiled a bit.  "Well, some of the guys around the house are
pretty good..."  She blinked over at the suddenly blushing Tina.
"Something we should know?"
     "Not.. really."  Tina looked down at the table.
     "Suit yourself," Kim said.  "Dropping that line of conversation.
What next?"
     "Guy's looking at you.  4 o'clock."
     "Saw him, Julie.  No thank you."
     "Picky," Julie snorted.  "I'd take him."
     "He's right there.  Go for it."  Kim shrugged and took a gulp of
her drink as Lee took a glance at the man.
     "You know.. he looks a bit like Steven.  Something you're not
telling us about your sister's boyfriend, Julie?"
     "Lee?  My sister and Steven are insane.  They're always either
staring into each other's eyes or blushing and trying not to."
     "It's love," sighed Tina.  "They're lucky."
     Julie rolled her eyes.  "You're as bad as they are."
     "At least *I* don't go after every guy who so much as looks at me
after I've had a drop of alcohol."
     "Eep?" Kim muttered as she looked for an escape route.  "You
know, I think I *will* go talk to that guy."  At least then she could
sneak away.
     Lee grinned.  "Don't do anything Julie would do."
     "Oh, please.  I'm not the one who was running around in a
swimsuit trying to vamp Michael before he left!"
     "That.. is only because you wouldn't stand a chance, Julie."
Lee grinned and raised her glass to wait for the rejoinder.
     "Give these people an ounce of something to drink..." Kim
muttered as she stood up, ignoring Tina's low, plaintive
'Saaaaavvvveeeee meeeeeeee...'

                                 <*>

     The poor punching bag never stood a chance.  Of course, they
never do.  Unfair, really.  Someone should give the things fists of
their own to make things even.  Aaaaaaanyway, the punching bag was
being beaten up even worse than usual by Jamie.
     Jon was dead, and had been for four months now.  He was the whole
reason Jamie'd gotten into this whole superhero thing.  Jon had run
into Michael a few times before the Sentries formed, and they became
good friends.  Then when the team actually came to be, Jamie ended up
meeting several of the members and eventually being drawn into the
team itself.
     And what had it gotten them?  Jamie'd given up most of his plans
for college by becoming a superguy.  He'd been lucky to fit in as many
classes as he had in, between disasters big and small.  Jon threw his
life away to save the rest of the team while Jamie was lying
unconscious.  Heroes were a dime a dozen, couldn't someone else have
taken Jon's place?  What was the *point*?
     There wasn't one.  It was just a violent power trip by idiots who
wanted to rule or get vengeance for some slight, and the even worse
idiots who dressed up in tights to fight them.  And if they all
disappeared one day, the world wouldn't be any worse off.  New heroes
could take their place -- ones who weren't nearly as dangerous.
     So why did he stay?
     Jamie's punches sped up, battering the bag into submission.  In
his mind, the bag had a face he'd seen only once before.  A strong
face, slightly wide and with piercing ice blue eyes.  The hair was
white and the look he gave coldly stern.  Jamie's hands weren't his
own, but rather the huge metal hands of the Mammoth mech, battering
the person responsible for all of this into nothing.
     That was all that mattered.  Until then, he'd keep going.
Stopping a fire here, scaring a bank robber into messing his pants
there.  He'd keep doing nothing, in the grand scale of things.  Until
they found Barry Van Rice...

                                 <*>

     The S9000 (wow).  It's been described before, but never in the
detail that it truly deserves.  And frankly, we could not get to that
detail without doing a whole 2000 line episode describing every
exquisite curve of that fine vehicle, along with a few animations to
help fill in where imagination fails.
     It is a car that makes policemen waiting at speedtraps just sit
there in amazement as it goes by at twice the speed limit.  People
have to be either blind or completely insane to cut it off, and even
then it's difficult.  Even during the love bug season, when every
other car on the road is covered in thousands of tiny little squished
black bugs, the bugs up and clear a path for the S9000 before it can
hit them.  It's just that kind of car.
     The paint job...  Imagine the most vivid red you know.  Take
every red Porsche and Ferrari you have ever seen from right off the
line, and distill that color.  Concentrate it, burning out any little
flaws or non-uniformities in the color.  Then go into your dreams and
take the reds you dreamed of in childhood, perfect and unspoiled.  Mix
the two well, and you have found the smallest conception of the
S9000's color.
     And the color isn't just painted on, it's soaked into the metal.
Looking at the car, you would almost imagine that there is a whole
other world in there.  It reflects the world around it perfectly in
shades of red; the only change a dimming of excessive glare.  You
can almost see yourself falling through the slick protective covering
over the metal and into a whole other world.
     The interior was a pale tan that was soft and supple as a baby's
bottom, and a whole lot cleaner.  It stayed a constant temperature, no
matter how much the sun would beat down upon it.  The cushions were a
marvelous mixture of deeply soft and supporting, and seemed to adjust
to fit the body of each individual who would sit there.
     And we haven't even gotten into the air conditioning and heating,
or the stereo system that almost makes live performances seem boring
by comparison.  Then there are the displays, which could be changed
for individual preferences and would then slowly rearrange themselves
to adapt to that person's visual range and preferred spot to glance
at.  We are talking about a car that had a drivers' manual the size of
a large King novel, before it was lost.
     Needless to say, this car rocks on dates.

                                 <*>

     Silence.  Golden, peaceful, calm.  And also irritating as
hell(tm) at times.  Steven started running through things to say,
trying to find something that would not only end the silence, but also
not make him sound like an idiot.
     He wasn't having a good time of it.
     Okay, think.  They were walking out of the theatre.  Theatre.
Which meant they'd just seen a movie.  Hadn't they?  Steven checked
his memory.  Dark room, popcorn, Christie's hand in his...  Movie
screen, right.  An opening!
     "You liked the movie?"
     "Mm-hm."  Christie put her arm around Steven and leaned against
him as she walked.  It was so nice when he was quiet.
     Steven nodded, then checked that topic off of his mental list.
Movie.  What were they going to do after the movie?  Um...  Steven's
stomach growled, and he sighed a bit.  How was he supposed to think
when he was so hungry?  Hungry?  Oh, right.
     "What do you want for dinner?" Steven asked as he opened the door
to the S9000 for Christie.
     "We haven't had any fish since..."  Christie trailed off, turning
a bit white in memory of Robyn's turn to cook the week before.  It had
*supposedly* been fish sticks, but fish sticks weren't that color and
certainly didn't taste like those things Robyn served.
     "A month.  Last week didn't count."  Steven smiled at Christie,
finally having hit the point he had to reach in every single date they
had.  The point where something managed to distract him from Christie
just long enough to let him calm down and be himself.  "Red Lobster,
then?"
     "That sounds great."
     "Mm-hm."  Steven realized he was staring down at her, then walked
to the other side of the car and got in.  "How was your day?"
     "Eh."
     "That bad?"
     "Just another long, drawn out day of hours of running around to
catch two bank robbers and a flasher.  Almost enough to make me wish
for more crime."
     Steven chuckled.  "Same old.  S'kinda nice, though.  Almost makes
this whole line of work peaceful."
     "Hm."
     "And what's that for?"
     "Line of work.  Is that really what this is?"  Christie paused,
then looked at Steven.  "I mean, is this what you see us doing in
five, ten years?"
     "No comment?"  Steven smiled weakly, then pulled out of the
parking space.  "I dunno.  I mean... try two.  It's not like I have
many other skills.  The only thing I ever really wanted to do is run,
and I can't exactly make a career out of that doing that in many
ways."
     "Yeah..."  Christie laughed a bit.  "And I was brought up to be a
mercenary.  I can really see me getting a job as a secretary."
     "The boss'd take one look at you and start chasing you around the
office.  Then I'd have to hurt him, and you'd be out a job."
     "Cuuute.  Uh.. I looked at the course listings from a tech school
nearby.  I thought maybe it would spark something."
     "And?"
     "Nothing new, really.  Lots of nursing classes, but I don't think
that's for me.  I could be a mechanic."  Christie grinned.  "And there
were a few computer classes, but if I was interested in that, SARA
could give me *much* better lessons than any class."
     "So we suck and have gotten ourselves stuck in the nation's
number one high growth job, huh?"  Steven smiled a bit as he drove.
     "We are perfect, Steven.  It's just the rest of the world that's
messed up."
     "Well, one of us is perfect.  The other's just a silly fool who
got himself lucky."
     Christie rolled her eyes, grinning.  "What'm I going to have to
do to get you to accept that you're a great guy?"
     "Hm.  Brain surgery *might* do it.  Maybe."
     "I can find a mallet and try knocking some sense into you.
Or..."  Christie trailed off as Steven pulled into the parking lot of
the restaurant and found a space.  She waited for him to turn off the
car, then leaned over to Steven, tilting her head up for a long kiss.
     "..."
     Christie broke off the kiss and smiled.  "Feeling more confident
in yourself now?"
     "..."
     "Steven?"
     "..."
     "Not *again*..."

                                 <*>

     "Yo, guys!  Moooooviiiiies!"
     Chris flattened against the wall to avoid being hit by a swiftly
flying Julie.  "Watch it!"
     "Trying to, but the VCR's in the living room," she yelled back.
     "Oh, good grief."  Chris shook his head and stepped back into the
middle of the hallway, only to be crashed into by a slightly over five
foot ball of energy.
     "Where's the popcorn?" Julie yelled from the living room.
     "Um..."  Robyn looked up at Chris, who'd managed to keep his
balance.  That was better than Robyn had been able to do.  She was now
flat on her rear, with spilled popcorn all over her and the floor.
"It'll be another couple of minutes!"
     "Right!"  Julie yelled back.  Chris could hear her continue more
quietly from the living room, telling Jamie not to fast-forward past
the promos.  He smiled a bit and gave Robyn a hand up.
     "I'll help make more popcorn, I guess.  What's the movie?"
     "Beats me," Robyn grinned.  "Knowing Julie, something with lots
of monsters and guys wearing as little as possible."
     Chris rolled his eyes and continued to the kitchen.  "Joy.  You
fill the popper, I'll grab drinks."
     A chant began to come from the living room.  A chant ancient and
powerful.  A chant of...
     "Food!  Food!"
     "And hurry," added Robyn.
     "Riiight."
     The bowls of popcorn and drinks were prepared as quickly as
possible, and were carried by the two overloaded superguys into the
living room. Things were at full occupancy, it seemed.  Steven and
Christie were snuggled into a chair that was really only made for one
person, and were being ignored by the rest for fear of saccharine
poisoning.  Jamie was sprawled out on an ottoman, and Julie sat on the
back of the couch.  Below her sat Ben and Kim, talking quietly about
the day's sparring match.  David sat alone on a recliner towards the
corner, while Tina and Lee sat on the floor near the couch, discussing
the movie.
     Robyn shoved some magazines around on the coffee table and took
up her normal seat on it with the popcorn, ignoring grumbles to pass
along the bowls.  Chris set the glasses and two liter bottles down
next to Robyn and poured himself some Dew, then grabbed a throw pillow
and lay down on the floor.
     "Life's good?" asked Robyn.  She was answered by various yeahs
and mmms, and even a "Die, hell(tm)spawn" that no one could figure out
the source of.
     "Good seat, food that I'll never get out of my teeth..."  Julie
sighed happily.  "Life's good."
     "What's the movie about, anyway?" asked Jamie.  He leaned over to
snag a glass and pour himself a drink, then lay back again.  He wasn't
really acknowledging Chris being there, but he seemed calm enough for
once.
     "Mm, standard stuff.  Someone screws up your normal dangerous
science experiment, makes monster, we get blood and fun."  There was a
quiet knock on the door, but no one noticed.
     "Yuck," muttered Christie.
     "It's got cute guys, little sister."
     "But I'm already sitting next to one."  Christie smiled at
Steven, who grinned back happily as they both ignored the sounds of
gagging.
     The knocking came back a little louder, and was heard this time.
But the various people all stayed quiet, under the knowledge that
whoever pointed out "Hey, someone's knocking on the door" would be the
one who had to go get the door.
     "You... fool."  Lee rolled her eyes melodramatically, continuing
after the knocks stopped.  "You triggered another one of their
episodes."
     Julie shrugged.  "It's easier to steal their popcorn when they're
lost in each other's eyes."
     "She's got a point," grinned Robyn.  A small diecast helicopter
flew over Steven and Christie's bowl, then dropped a tow-line down to
free a piece from captivity and liberate it to the safety of Robyn's
mouth.
     *THUD*THUD*
     For a moment the only sound were the words "Coming soon to video"
from the television, as the assembled superguys tried to decide if
that knock was too loud to reasonably ignore.  Slowly, all heads
turned to look at Ben.
     "Okay..."  Ben scanned the crowd, looking for the person least
likely to throw something at him.  The perils of leadership were
indeed great.  "Chris, get the door."
     Chris looked down at the pillow under him, then reluctantly
decided that if he threw it he wouldn't get it back.  Sighing, he
stood up and made his way to the large double doors to the porch.
They swung open easily, revealing...
     "SCIENCE!!!"
     Chris tapped his ear a bit and looked at the person outside.  He
was an inch or so over six feet, with an olive complexion and short,
slightly curly black hair.  He wore jeans and a black t-shirt, with a
long blue-grey lab coat on over the shirt.  He looked Chris over, then
smiled.
     "You should really get the door more quickly.  You ruined a
running gag."
     "Um?"
     "Never mind."  The man lifted onto his tiptoes, getting a partial
view of the living room.  "Watching a movie?"
     "Er... yeah.  Just came on."  Chris briefly pondered slamming the
door into this guy's face, but decided to hold off a little longer.
Something about the man's manner just made it hard to avoid answering.
     "Great, I'm just in time.  I'd hate to force you all to rewind
just because I got here late."
     "Uh..."
     "So, I guess you're Chris?  Sis told me about you, nice to meet
you."
     Chris nodded.  "Sis?"
     "They took my picture off of the mantle, didn't they?  I told
Jamie that his fishing trophy looked terrible there, but does anyone
listen to me?"  The man grinned at Chris.  "Anyway, they're probably
wondering who you're talking to.  So can you get out of the doorway
and let me in?"
     "Um...  Why?"
     "Hm.  Monosyllable-itus.  You should have that looked at, it can
be fatal."
     "Riiiiight."
     "No, that's still one syllable.  Very long, but still just one.
Oh, almost forgot."  The man held his hand out.  "Hi, I'm Michael
Dasher, and this is my house.  More or less.  Now can I come in?"


IS MICHAEL BACK FOR GOOD?

WILL ROBYN ATTACK HER TUTOR IN A FIT OF ANGER?

WILL STEVEN AND CHRISTIE ACTUALLY HAVE A NORMAL DATE?

WILL TINA ACTUALLY HAVE A DATE, PERIOD?

WILL THE S9000 GET PINE TAR ON IT?
(aaaaaaaiiiiiiiiigggggghhhhhhh!!!!!!!  That's... horrible.)

WHAT'S NEXT FOR OUR BAND OF INTREPID SOMETHING-OR-OTHERS?

You'll find out as Sentries returns, only on SUPERGUY!!!