Hero Types

Chapter 17

There was another snow storm on Christmas Eve.
Dave and Zoe had left the week before, and Kit thought that her stress level had declined drastically during that period. Maybe that was just because school was out.
She'd been relaxing and enjoying her time off. Spending time with friends. Or, that was what she told Gran when she went out.
She was at Mickey's house a lot.
He'd said that all the scrap metal lying around his garage wasn't going to good use, and that if she ever felt like it she was more than welcome to stop by and make art. He also said that Fitz would really like it if she visited.
It had started out for the art, but then she started bringing her reading and she'd lie on the floor with the dog and read passages aloud while he worked on his cars, and he'd translate the Shakespearean texts for her. It turned out Mickey was actually some sort of literature geek, and he could recite whole passages by heart, which he did frequently. The book shelf in his bedroom was overflowing.
She started going over a lot.
She wasn't totally sure what drew her there. There was something about the garage and its eclectic chaos that just resonated with her. It was an art studio, in its own way, and she reveled in the peaceful, creative energy it contained. There would be the rugby game on mute and a scratchy blanket on her lap, Fitz's warm head under her arm, and Mickey's quiet giggles from under the hood of a car, and she really liked it.
There was a Christmas party that night, and she knew Bridget and everybody else was going, and that they'd purposely avoided letting her know about it. But the crazy thing was...she didn't mind all that much. She wasn't even sure she wanted to go to some stupid party. It seemed a little petty, whenever she thought about it.
Anyway, she was going to stay home and bake cookies with her grandmother. That seemed like a much better Christmas.
She got called in late that afternoon. She was sitting on the couch in her slippers, playing xbox, and her phone rang. She paused her game and answered it.
"We found him."
She sighed, gazing out the window. The snowflakes were huge and constant. "When do you need me?"
"Now would be good."
She pocketed her phone and looked at Gran, who pushed her glasses down the bridge of her nose.
"Was that duty calling?"
"Save some dough for me?"
She flipped the page of her magazine. "I'll have a bag in the fridge."
Kit hugged her around the neck, pulled a bra on under her short sleeved tee, and was off. She hopped down the stairs, taking them two at a time in some places.
It was chilly. She pulled her hood over her head and hunched her shoulders against the wind, which bit the tip of her nose. She squinted while snow bubbled on her eyelashes, shoving her hands deep in her pockets.
They'd been tracking the mad scientist for the last two weeks, and consequently hadn't had a mission in a while. It appeared that they might finally have found his actual location. His motives remained unknown.
Honk!
She jumped and moved to the side, looking wildly around. A car pulled up next to her and the window rolled down.
"Want a ride?"
She hurried around and hopped in, panting and red-faced. "You scared me!"
Mickey bent over laughing. "I'm so sorry. I was going to pick you up so you didn't have to walk. I told Lucas to tell you."
"I might have hung up on him."
"Well, no harm done. I've caught you anyway, haven't I?" He grinned and turned them around in an empty lot. "Excited for Christmas?"
"Yeah, I was just going to bake cookies with Gran."
"Sounds nice."
"Yeah." She watched him from the corner of her eye. She felt sad for him. He'd never mentioned his family, or a lot of friends for that matter. Most supers isolated themselves in order to conceal their true identities, but at least they had each other. He was more of a lone wolf, and he didn't really seem to have much of anyone.
She still hadn't worked up the courage to bring up his mechanical heart. Sometimes it occurred to her, but he'd be laughing or she'd be smiling, and it was too nice of a moment to ruin. She thought it probably wasn't a happy subject. This is really all just to keep me alive. She was immensely curious, but too afraid to ask.
He didn't have a CD in, but he whistled Christmas tunes all the way.
They pulled into the lot. Jersey and Lucas were waiting by their cars.
"Oh, good, you got her," Lucas said.
"I chased her down, yes." He elbowed her as they walked over, and she discreetly returned it.
"Kit," Jersey pressed a button and started his car, "you're with me."
"You and Jersey need to take this guy," Lucas said. "Mickey and I will handle the robots."
Mickey bounced on the balls of his feet, looking excited. "I need to get a better look at those things."
"We'll keep them distracted, you guys will drive around the back when we get there—you'll see what I'm talking about—and get him tied up. Any questions? Let's go."
Jersey was a slightly smoother driver, and that was a relief. The ride over had been rough, and the roads were bad enough as if was.
"How's your grandmother?" he asked.
"A lot better. Sometimes her speech is slower and stuff, but it wasn't too bad. She's getting better."
"You seem happier."
Kit was sure this was for a very different reason.
"It's been good."
"So, does Mickey just know where you live?"
"It's not like that," she snapped. "Please...stop."
Jersey nodded, but he smirked out the window the whole way there.
She frowned as they pulled into the empty lot. "Isn't this a college?"
"Yeah," he said, parking in two spaces, "but it's community."
They waited in the car while Jersey waited for Lucas to answer his phone. He nodded, muttered a few words in reply, and snapped his fingers at the school.
"We're going through the window."
Going through the window was actually a common piece of terminology in Kit's line of work. It sounded professional and sneaky, the absolute height of espionage. What it actually entailed was much less graceful in practice.
"Duck!"
Kit hurled the rock at the glass and threw herself behind a tree. Sandy flecks dusted her hair, and she felt a hot pain on her elbow. The bits crunched under Jersey's feet, and he motioned her over. They clambered through the opening. She wished she'd worn something more flexible than jeans.
Inside, the college looked normal for winter break. They were in a lounge, and the snack bar was locked up, the TVs were off, and the chairs were stacked in the corner. The floor smelled like Swiffer.
"Lucas says he's a professor," Jersey whispered. They crept quietly past the bathrooms, avoiding piles of glass.
"Wouldn't he be home?"
"Unless he's using the college facilities to build his robot army."
"Why?"
"'Cause it's cheap?"
"No," she said, stepping from behind a garbage can. "The robots?"
"Sell them, probably." He rubbed his fingers together. "Money."
They both froze.
"Did you—"
"Shh!" She tiptoed around him and put her back up against the wall. Holding her breath, she peered around the corner. A darkened hallway stretched out. She slipped around the bend. She saw Jersey's shadow creep past her.
There was light coming from one doorway. As she got closer, she saw the open glass roof and walls, slipping with snow. There was a nice view of the central greenery and the labs across the commons. The smell of coffee was strong, and she heard the trickling before she saw the man at the machine. He was short and gray-haired, and he wore a lab coat that was ripped in several places.
She ducked inside, an invisible Jersey following suite.
Kaboom!
All three of them turned at once. A plume of smoke erupted out of one of the lab buildings.
The man turned to them in alarm, and there was an intense moment of staring. Jersey appeared to his side.
"Howdy."
Kit crossed her arms.
"Fine!" The man threw up his hands, and Jersey tied them behind his back. "I submit!"
They lead him out to the car. Jersey unlocked the door with the keys in his pocket, and they set him in the backseat. Smoke still billowed from the side of the lab.
They drove over and parked beside Lucas's car. The snow was melted in a semicircle around the building. Kit hopped out and ran inside, coughing in the haze.
"Guys?"
A robot, one of its legs missing, crawled out of the dark. Jersey pulled out a pistol and shot it in the microchip.
A dark shape appeared. Kit held up her hands and squared herself, squinting. Two figures materialized, covering their faces with their hands and coughing. She lowered her hands.
"What happened?" Jersey asked.
"Apparently," Lucas said, wiping soot from his mustache, "some chemicals respond negatively to an electric charge."
Mickey raised his non-robotic hand. "I also hit the oil tank."
Lucas gave up trying to clean himself off. "Did you get him?"
Jersey pointed. "He's in the car."
"Great." He walked past them. "Now, let's get back before the cops show up."
She glanced at Mickey as they walked back. She laid her hand on his arm and withdrew it quickly. "Um...hey, are you okay?"
"Dandy," he replied. He coughed again. His arm was limp.
"No, your arm...."
"My arm's fine." He prodded it with his other hand. "Something got thrown, but," he shrugged, "I can fix it." A horn beeped, and he nudged her toward the car. "I'm fine."
She slid in beside Jersey, who gave her a sidelong glance. She looked away.
"Shut up."
"'Oh, Mickey,'" he gasped, hand to his forehead, "'allow me to tend to your wounds—'"
"Stop!"
"'—before we make sweet, sweet love all throughout the night—'"
"Jersey!" She pushed him and he pulled out of the driveway, cackling.
They followed Lucas's car back. The snow had only picked up over the past few hours, and it was a lengthy trip. Kit cranked the heat up all the way and cradled her knees to her chest.
It was past dinner when they pulled into the yard. Kit had called Gran on the way home, and she said not to worry but she was going to bed. The snow was coming down hard. It was hypnotic through the windshield.
Mardie and Howe were talking at the table when they walked in. Mardie immediately jumped up and hugged Kit, and Howe, Kit saw over her shoulder, bowed his head and slunk off to the corner.
"How're you doing, honey?" She stroked her hair and checked her over like Gran's stroke would have left a scar on her own body.
"I'm okay, I'm okay," she said, avoiding the fingers at her cheeks. "You?"
"Ups and downs," Mardie said. She pursed her lips. "Benji's got me busy, it's not so bad."
"Any word on...?"
"Not yet." Kit nodded, and Mardie patted her shoulder. "Don't let that bring you down. It's Christmas. Look at them."
Lucas and Jersey were already laughing in the corner, and the mood must have been up, because sometimes even Howe smiled. Mickey was in the doorway, and he caught Kit's eye and grinned. Her face felt warm. She went to retrieve the hot cocoa machine from the front desk.
"To another villain apprehended," Lucas toasted in his best Vortex voice. They echoed and steaming paper cups were knocked together. Mardie spilled hers and Howe reached across to help her while she laughed.
Lucas recounted the thrilling tail of their epic takedown of the robots, complete with theatrical pauses and spoken onomatopoeias for maximum effect. He told it ridiculously, and it was hard to not laugh.
There was laughter, and the snow was falling softly on the windows in the night. There was a warm glow about the room, with rosy cheeks and the strong smell of chocolate. Mardie was right: it was a nice night.
Kit finished her cup after a while and got up to throw it away. It was nice to see everyone smiling for once. She looked around the room and frowned.
They were locked in their own world, and so she snuck off down the hall without being noticed.
She found Mickey in the training room. He was bent over the table in the corner, a screwdriver in his mouth and a look of concentration on his face. He looked up when he heard her come in.
"Hey." She hovered near the doorway, and he removed the screwdriver from his mouth. "Everyone's in there, if you want to come in. We have hot chocolate."
He smiled. "I think I'll pass." He inserted the screwdriver into his arm and frowned, twisting. "Not anything against them, I just don't know if it would be appropriate. You get what I mean, don't you?"
"Yeah." She nodded. She hesitated for a moment. He'd gone back to repairing his arm. She pressed her lips together and turned away.
"Wait—"
She stopped.
"Could you, ah..." he rubbed the back of his head, shrugging, "give me a hand here?"
"Sure." She crossed around the table, and he handed her his screwdriver, chuckling softly.
"I just can't hold it in the right—"
"What do you need?"
He smiled and tapped the center of his forearm. "There, thanks."
She ducked under him and set the screwdriver in place. She wasn't great at building things that were supposed to be functional, but it was pretty obvious where it all went. She set her tongue between her lips and pushed the piece into place.
"Hullo," he said, grabbing her left elbow. "What's this?"
She twisted to look at it and shrugged. "Just a cut." She went back to work. He ran his thumb over the wound and she thought that his hand lingered there for quite a while before it slipped away. The screwdriver was too small for the screw and kept slipping out of place.
"Snow's still coming down hard," he said.
"Yeah," she said. She bent her head and twisted firmly, and felt the piece beginning to lock in place. She smiled. "Yeah, but I love snow on Christmas, you know?"
His hand had moved to her back. It rested gently on her waist, and sometimes there was pressure from his thumb. Maybe, she thought, he's just keeping his balance. She pretended not to notice.
She twisted the screw into place. "There you go."
"Great," he said, leaning forward. "And, um," he tapped his fingers on her side, thinking, "by my hand, if you could—"
"Yeah, sure." She bent forward and concentrated on the loose wire. Her heart seemed really loud, and her fingers had lost a lot of their coordination. She gulped. "That wire?"
"Yeah."
She lowered her head further and took a deep breath. His hand had migrated south and now it was staying there. Her hands shook. She tried to keep working, but it was hard to pretend that it wasn't happening.
And finally she turned around. He froze, and her trembling hand darted to her hair. "Um...what're you...doing?"
His emotions flashed in his eyes for the split second it took him to react. He stepped immediately back, shoulders slumping. "Oh, my—I've—" he rubbed his eyes and blushed at the wall. "I've totally misread this, haven't I?"
She couldn't find any words, so she continued to stare.
"Wow. Wow." He put his hands on his hips and stared at the floor. He exhaled deeply and met her eyes. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Kit. I'm so sorry. Jesus. I thought we were—" he laughed nervously and stared at the wall. "I thought we were flirting. I thought there was—oh, my god. I was wrong. I'm so sorry."
They stood silently. Laughter echoed down the hall, but Kit felt cold inside.
"I'm, ah," Mickey grabbed his winter coat off the table, avoiding her eyes, "I'm gonna...go. Yeah. Ah..." he gestured down the hall. His face was pink. "If you could tell Lucas, just to call me...."
He slipped around her and pulled on his coat. He stopped with one foot in the door and glanced back, cold air billowing in. "I—I'm sorry. Bye." The door shut, and the burst of cold was shut off.
Kit stood in the warmth, stunned. There was more laughter from down the hall, and there was some kind of mechanical grease on her hand. She was panting.
She felt like she'd just survived a far drop without breaking any bones, and now she was out of breath and trying to reorganize her thoughts and figure out what she was going to do next.
What was she going to do next?
And, more importantly, why had she freaked out? Why hadn't she said anything? Mickey was big and mechanical and warm and great. Jersey was right: she had a huge crush on him. Why hadn't she touched his butt?
What are you doing?!!!
She threw open the door and flew down the steps.
Mickey was reaching for his car door, and he turned and looked up. She skidded to a halt right in front of him.
"Wait—wait—" she panted, the snow catching in her mouth and burning her face. He stared at her, and his eyes reflected the lamps. His eyes were sparkly and kind and she thought they were pretty. "Mickey—"
She kissed him.
She stood a little on her toes and his arms locked around her. His nose and his breath mushed against her cheek. The hot chocolate was all she tasted. His kiss was tender and wet, and even if he was English his teeth weren't that bad. They weren't even made of metal.
They broke apart and stared at each other, and then he grinned and raised his eyebrows. She smiled, but now she was freezing. Her bare arms were on fire. They just looked at each other.
"Kit!" His voice cracked. She grinned and he continued to give her that wide-eyed look, though there was a smile still pulling at his lips. "That was not funny!"
"Mickey, that was so pervy—"
"I know!" He blushed fiercely and looked at their feet. "I know, I'm not—I panicked, a bit. I didn't know how else to...Kit, you're a tricky person to make a move on."
She laughed, shuddering. He pushed her hair behind her ear and frowned.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, I mean, I'm freezing—"
"Jesus, well, come here then." He pulled his coat open and zipped her up inside. She tucked her arms around his back. He did smell like soot from the explosion, but it wasn't much stronger than the engine grease. Blue light welled up out of his throat when she kissed him again, and through that cold, quiet place there was one very bright, very warm spot of light.
It snowed all the way through till Christmas morning.