Chapter 1: When a tattoed guy meets a cornered snake

Kris and Paul collide and an amnesiac finds a temporary home.

“The Kattegat Institution of Research and Technology has confirmed that yesterday’s earthquake was a result of an experiment taking place there. The Institute stated that it was an underground explosion that caused the earthquake. They have yet to reveal if it was a radiological experiment like the ones they are renowned for. In other news, the Institute claims it is not responsible for the discolored sky. The orange has yet to fade, however it is just affecting clouds in the Kattegat area. Scientists have yet to explain the color as well.” The news reporter paused before pushing the attention to another reporter.

            A woman and a waitress sat at a bar in a diner, facing the TV hidden in a corner; the rest of the diner was empty. The waitress muted the television with a bulky remote before resting an elbow on the bar. “So, what do you think of the news, Kris?”

            Kris ran a hand through her hair. “I think it’s bad, Molly. Strange things have been happening since the earthquake.”

            “Don’t I know it,” Molly replied. “Today, two guys came in trying to rob the place, and one ends up catching himself on fire.”

            The restaurant had a few tables and booths that were old, but well-kept; the hip-high wood paneling and dark green paint was also untouched. “This place doesn’t look burnt.”

            “Nope, that’s the strange thing.” Molly leaned towards Kris and whispered, “The man caught on fire with no matches or nothin’, and the fire stuck to him.”

            Kris snuggled further in her flannel. “Weird,” Kris said.

            A knock on the door caused Kris to jump. Beyond the door was a small man, neatly dressed in a short-sleeved collared shirt; he had tattoos on his wrists. “Are you open?” The man asked through the glass.

            Molly stood up. “Yes,” She answered, hurrying to the door. “We’ve just been having a slow day.”

            She opened it. Paul stepped in to be warmly greeted with, “What can I get for you, dear?”

            “A handsome man,” He replied, his voice pleasant due to its Mexican accent. He laughed, continuing, “I don’t know. What do you recommend?”

            The man walked over to Kris and sat down at the bar beside her. Molly moved behind the counter while slipping on her apron. “Their burgers are the best,” Kris mentioned.

            “Well, I’ll have a burger then,” The man said before smiling at Kris. “Hello, I’m Paul.”

            Molly disappeared into the kitchen, turning on the grill and getting to work. “Hi,” Kris responded, hesitantly smiling back. “I’m Kristen.”

            “Hello, Kristen,” Paul repeated. “I hope you don’t mind me rambling on, but the craziest thing happened to me yesterday.”

            “No, go ahead,” Kris said, nodding once.

            “Yesterday, after the earthquake,” Paul started. “I tried to close my curtain because that nasty orange sky was making me feel sick, and my tattoo,” He pointed at his wrist tattoo, an intricate ivy vine. “Suddenly jumped off my skin, real as life, and broke my window.”

            Kris’s wide-eyed expression grew as he told his story. This guy could actually relate to what she experienced. “No kidding.”

            Paul pulled out his phone and flipped to a picture. He showed her his broken window; it looked like a baby punched through it. “No kidding.”

            Kris checked on Molly with a glance above the counter into the kitchen; Molly was preoccupied, pressing a burger patty on the grill. Kris whispered, “I had something like that happen to me.”

            A shiver ran up his spine as he leaned in. “You can tell me.”

            “Yesterday,” Kris started, focusing on the lacquer counter. “I was out on the street, Conger Street, when the earthquake happened. The scary thing was that I was unconscious before the earthquake. I woke up, then the earthquake happened. After it stopped, I crawled to an alley because I felt dizzy. When I stood up, I started floating up. Like, no joke, I had to grab a fire escape, or else, who knows what could have happened.”

            Paul was awed. He smiled, clarifying, “You flew?”

            Kris met his admiring gaze with narrowed eyes and a raised eyebrow. “Yeah.”

            “What was it like?” Paul gushed. “I’ve always wanted to fly.”

            Kris wrapped her arms around her stomach. “Scary…You know the feeling when you ride a roller coaster and there is a huge drop? That stomach lurching feeling is what I felt flying.”

            “What about you, cool tattoo guy?” Kris pressed, turning the tables. “What did it feel like to have a vine spring out of your arm?”

            Paul stretched and took time to think it over. “It didn’t hurt; it felt like a natural extension of my arm. And it retreated into a tattoo easy enough.”

            Paul rubbed his chin, a mischievous smile forming. “I wonder if this makes us superheroes,” Paul commented.

            “Superheroes?” Kris repeated with disbelief.

            Paul turned to the television. It played an ad for some TV drama that would come on later in the evening. “Yeah, superheroes. We can use our powers to fight crime.”

            Kris snorted. “For that to work, we’d actually have to be able to use our powers.”

            Paul accepted that as a challenge and slid off his stool. He stood, facing the center of the room, and punched at the air. He kept punching, alternating right and left. Kris laughed briefly. “What are you doing?”

            “I’m trying to summon my vines,” Paul said seriously, punching repetitively. “Come on! Vines come out!”

            Kris was laughing until a vine did shoot out of Paul’s right arm. “Holy s**t,” Kris muttered, falling off her barstool.

            Paul was surprised as her. He held his arm out away from his person. The vine swayed, thickening as a multitude of thinner vines twinned together. “Madre de dios,” Paul said. “I did it.”

            He laughed triumphantly. “Ah, I did it!”

            He faced a table. “Okay, vine, I guess I have to talk to you to get you to do things. So, vine, grab the salt shaker.”

            The vine grew out towards the table and wrapped around the saltshaker. “Good job, vine. Now give it to Kristen.”

            Kris held up her hands. “Oh no, you don’t have to,” Kris said, backing up.

            The vine still swung around to hand Kris the saltshaker. Kris took it from the vine. “Thanks, vine,” She said awkwardly.

            Paul smiled. “Alright, vine; now go back to a tattoo.”

            The vine dipped and shrunk, fading back in to the tattoo. Paul sat back down at the counter. “It worked,” Paul said, his hands trembling with excitement. “Now you should try.”

            Kris shook her head, putting the saltshaker on the counter. She ran a hand through her hair. “No, no… I shouldn’t. I’d rather not dent the ceiling or something.”

            Molly walked out of the kitchen with a plate. “Kris?” Molly said. “What’cha doin’? Come sit down. Don’t be rude.”

            Molly set the plate down in front of Paul, steam leaking out from under the top bun. Paul thanked her. Moving closer, Kris sat down beside Paul. “Sorry, coz,” Kris mumbled.

            Paul dug in, taking a large bite out of the burger. “Oh, you two are related?” Paul asked, his mouth full. “You two don’t look alike.”

            Kris had long dark brown hair and a narrow face, while Molly had a round face with a blonde pixie cut. Kris put all her attention on Paul. “Our mothers are sisters in law,” Kris said. “So, technically, we aren’t related.”

            “But, two girls stuck in a big city like Kattegat,” Molly interjected. “Family sticks together, even if we are only family by law.”

            Paul finished his burger, swallowing before saying, “That’s so sweet.”

            Paul changed subjects, assessing Kris before saying, “You know, we should finish our conversation sometime.”

            His lower, “serious” tone didn’t faze her. “I don’t think we should.”

            Molly confusedly watched at the two spar, her head moving to the other at each comeback. “Oh, come on,” Paul said with a charming smile. “Don’t you want to know?”

            Kris crossed her arms. “No, I don’t want to know. I’d rather pretend that it never happened.”

            Paul pushed his plate away, standing up. “If you never know, then you won’t be able to control it.”

            “Damn,” Kris said with a hint of venom. “I guess you win the argument, but I’m not going to do it, I’m not going to ‘find out.’”

            Something clicked for Molly. “I’m sorry, Paul, dear,” Molly said, coming around the counter and placing a hand on Paul’s arm. “Kris isn’t interested in men, so if that’s what you want, you best leave.”

            There was a pause when Paul and Kris’s eyes met before both burst out laughing. Kris clutched her side. “Molly, it isn’t like that,” Kris responded.

            Paul agreed, “I am not interested in Kristen, nor will I ever be.”

            “Not that you aren’t an attractive and interesting person,” Paul added.

            “No, it’s fine,” Kris replied, getting a napkin.

            She reached over and took a pen out of Molly’s apron. Kris wrote something down on the napkin and handed it to Paul. “Here’s my address,” Kris said resignedly. “You can come by, and we can talk about this later, okay?”

            Her sudden change in mood startled Molly. “Are you leaving, Kris?”

            “Yeah, Molly,” Kris answered, walking to the door. “If you want to catch up with me after you close, I’ll be at the bar.”

            “Sure, Kris; I’ll see you there.”

            Kris left the restaurant. Molly and Paul stood silently until she was out of sight. “What did you say to her?” Molly asked Paul, slightly upset.

            “I don’t know,” Paul said, shaking his head. “But, I guess it was personal.”

+++++

            Kris sat in a bar. The bar was nice enough; it had a wood and leather design, and a couple of televisions playing sports games. Kris was nestled in a corner booth, drinking water. She picked at her nails, wasting time and thinking over Paul’s proposal. Could she actually be a superhero? Sure, she had powers, but that didn’t make her a hero.

            Since yesterday her nail polish changed from black to pale yellow. Usually, she bit her nails, so the paint would chip, and the nails would end up looking disgusting. However, over the past twenty-four hours, her nails had grown smooth and sharp. Grew filed to a point. She worried if this was going to be another power, like flying.

            Kris sighed, moving her attention to television. A basketball game was on, the Kattegat Vikings versus some other team that Kris didn’t recognize. Kris didn’t care, looking back at her nails. Suddenly, a man slid into the booth beside her. Kris gave him a once over. He was a pretty guy, if she was in to that. Muscular and tall with a hint of stubble, with an overconfident sneer plastered on his face.

            The man set an elbow on the table, resting his head on that hand, and got closer to Kris. “Hey, pretty lady,” The man said with a raspy voice. “What are you doin’ in a s****y bar like this?”

            Kris glared at the man. “Wondering why a s****y guy is trying my patience.”

            The man laughed like Kris said the funniest thing. “How about I buy you a drink? That would warm you up,” He said before faking sympathy. “You must’ve had a tough day.”

            “Don’t bother,” Kris said, moving away from him. “I’m underage.”

            “That’s never stopped Frank from serving… If you’re uncomfortable with alcohol, I can get you a soda.”

            Kris ran a hand through her hair. “I’m not uncomfortable with alcohol,” Kris responded. “I’m uncomfortable because of you.”

            The man’s smile grew. He backed off a little. “That’s alright, little lady. I have that effect on women. It takes a few minutes for them to be charmed.”

            Kris almost gagged. Thinking quickly, she put on a smile. “I’d like that soda now,” She said softly, batting her eyes.

            The man thought he had won her over. “I’ll be right back,” He said, sliding out of the booth.

            Kris watched him go. While he was busy talking to Frank, Kris snuck out of the booth and the bar. Once outside the bar, she jogged down the street, keeping an eye out for Molly or the man from the bar. She stopped at the corner, waiting for the flashing red walk sign to change.

            “Hey!” Someone grabbed Kris’s arm from behind.

            She whirled around, startled by the man from the bar. His face reddened as he tightened his grip on her arm. “Let go,” Kris said, trying to evoke calmness in the face of fear.

            “No, dear,” The man growled. “I bought you a drink, so why don’t you come back to the bar and drink it.”

            Kris struggled in his grip, but his hand was immovable. She grasped his arm with her free hand, sinking her nails into the flesh. “I’d rather not,” She hissed, pressing her nails further in.

            The man let go with a shout. The light had changed, and she turned, sprinting across the street. The man grumbled but let her be. Glancing at his arm, he saw two puncture wounds from Kris’s nail; blood seeped out of the wound. He glared at her retreating form before heading back to the bar. “That b***h.”

+++++

            Paul walked away from Molly’s restaurant, going in the opposite direction Kris had went. He checked the napkin again, Sterling Cates Room 313, Tauri Boulevard. Maybe he would visit her later, certainly not tonight, but perhaps sometime this week.

            Focused more on his note than his feet, Paul bumped into another person. “Oh, perdóname,” He said without thinking.

            Looking at whom he ran into, Paul realized he must have stumbled upon a mentally ill person. The woman with long blonde hair swayed, holding the hem of a shirt that had not been cleaned for a couple days. Her eyes were directed at the ground by his feet. “Está bien,” The woman mumbled.

            Surprised that the woman spoke Spanish, he put a hand on her arm. She didn’t even react. “Are you okay, miss?” Paul asked lightly.

            “Sure,” The woman answered, looking into his eyes. “Do you know me?”

            Paul shook his head. “No, should I?”

            The woman stared at the ground and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

            Paul smiled, trying to reassure her. “How long have you been out on the streets?”

            “I don’t know… All I remember is the earthquake and a woman… She was talking to me just like you are now.”

            “What happened to her?”

            The woman’s brow creased. “I scared her somehow, and she ran away.”

            Paul recoiled as the woman’s appearance began to change. Her hair shortened, her skin darkened, and she shrank. “I think she was scared because I looked like her,” The woman commented when the transformation was complete.

            She became an exact copy of himself. He visibly swallowed and commented, “I think I can understand how she felt.”

            The woman slowly glanced at her hands, which were now his hands. “Oh, I guess I did it again,” The woman said, her voice had changed; it wasn’t exactly his, but it certainly was more masculine. “Discúlpeme.”

            This woman, or maybe man, was similar to Kris and him; this person had a power. With a power like this, he couldn’t be left on the streets; the cops would catch him or something. “No, it’s okay,” Paul responded, his tone becoming hopeful. “In fact, do you want a place to stay?”

            “With you?” The doppelganger said with a weak laugh. “No offense, but I’m not one to trust strangers.”

            “You said it yourself, you may know me,” Paul replied. “You must have amnesia, maybe from the earthquake. You don’t know who you are.”

            The man contemplated it. “Where do you live?”

            Paul scratched the back of his head. “Pretty far away,” He admitted. “But I have a friend who lives pretty close by; we could go see if she is home.”

             The man nodded. “Sure, why not? It’s either this or another night sleeping on a bus bench.”

            Paul smiled and turned around, wrapping a protective arm around the other man. They started walking in the direction Paul came from, moving past the restaurant. “I’m glad that you see reason. It’ll be okay, I promise. We’ll figure out this weird thing you keep doing, and when you get it under control, we can maybe visit a hospital to address your lack of memory.”

            The twin smiled. “I like your optimism.”

            “Why, thank you, me-”

            He hadn’t asked the stranger if he knew his name. “You wouldn’t, by any chance, remember your name?” Paul asked politely as possible.

            The doppelganger shook his head. “No, but, you can call me Q. I remember that is my favorite letter.”

            Paul laughed, and Q joined in. “Out of all the things you could remember,” Paul trailed off.

            Q shrugged helplessly. “That’s just how my mind works.”

+++++

            Knock knock. Kris sat in her living room space, legs crisscross, holding a mug of tea. Comfortably sunken in to a plush, beat-up couch, her eyes fixated on a movie on her tiny flat screen television ten feet away. She even wore pajama shorts, determined to relax and lose herself in the movie. Kris ignored the knocking, hoping that it was just a neighbor who wanted something, but not badly enough to stick around for long.

            Knock knock. “Damn,” Kris muttered, struggling to get off the couch.

            Kris paused the movie before she took her time walking to the kitchen to set her mug on the counter. Kris moved to the door, pausing to grab her red flannel from the back of a chair and put it on to cover her ratty, grey tank top. Kris approached the door and looked through the peephole to see Paul. She groaned in frustration and opened the door, complaining, “When I gave you my address, I didn’t think you would come over today.”

            Through the open door, there were two Pauls. One of the Pauls stepped in, dipping his head. “I wasn’t planning on it, but extenuating circumstances have made it a necessity.”

            Kris moved aside as both Pauls came into her apartment. Both Pauls matched perfectly, right down to their clothes. One of the Pauls silently walked over and sat on her couch, while the other stood in the middle of the room, straddling the living area and the dining area. Kris went to the one that was standing, “So, what’s up with the twin?”

            Paul uneasily shifted his weight from one hip to the other as he delayed answering. “I need you to do me a favor,” He said urgently.

            Kris rolled her eyes, thoroughly exasperated with him. “What?”

            “I need you to keep Q at your place for a little while.”

            Kris turned her body purposefully to look at the other Paul. He was swinging his legs, tensely sitting upright on the frameless couch. Her eyebrows pressed together. “I assume he is Q.”

            “Actually, he doesn’t even know who he is, or if he is a he,” Paul rambled, leaning over to look at Q. “Here, we’ll show you.”

            “Q? Can you come over here?”

             Q got up and walked over. Paul placed a hand on each of Kris’s shoulders, moving her so she was directly in front of Q. Her head turned to keep her eyes on Paul; bewildered, she asked, “What are you…?”

            Paul backed up, looking between the two of them. The pair made eye contact. Nothing happened. “Maybe you should touch Q,” Paul suggested.

            “What?” Kris said, turning back to him.

            “Just do it,” Paul insisted. “Please.”

            Kris sighed, facing Q, and placed a hand on Q’s forearm. “Q, you should start talking to her,” Paul goaded.

            “Alright,” Q said, his eyes piercing Kris. “Hi, I’m Q, but that isn’t my real name. I forgot my real name, along with most of my other memories.”

            When Kris’s eyes widened, Q knew he, or she, was doing it. A stretching sensation hurt her bones as she burst up to become eye level with Kris. Q went so far as to run a hand through her new long, brown hair before saying, “I think I’m a shape shifter.”

            Kris removed her hand. “Really?” She said sarcastically.

            Q wrapped the flannel tight around her body, holding it in place with crossed arms. She smiled goofily.  Kris turned to Paul, pointing at Q halfheartedly. “Is this why Q needs to stay here? Because she can’t control her power?”

            “That and she is an amnesiac who was living on the streets until I bumped into her.”

            Kris nodded like that made sense. “Why can’t you keep her at your home?” Kris asked testily, her brow crinkling.

            “Because I live uptown in a two-bedroom apartment with my little sister. I don’t have room for her.”

            “And you assume I do?”

            Paul looked around in an exaggerated fashion. The barren space emphasized his response. “Why, yes, I do.”

            Kris smiled bitterly. “Well, a month ago, I wouldn’t have room for her, so, we’re fortunate that I got dumped just so you could dump an amnesiac with me.”

            Q frowned sympathetically. “Why did he break up with you?”

            Kris nearly forgot that Q was there. “She broke up with me,” Kris clarified. “For a variety of reasons, including the fact that I am a sarcastic b***h.”

            “But that’s what makes you so funny,” Q replied, smiling. “I like sarcasm.”

            “Great,” Kris responded dryly.

            Q’s smile grew, revealing Kris’s sharp teeth. Kris leaned in, grabbing Q’s face. “Holy s**t, do my teeth look like that?” She asked.

            “Yeah.”

            Kris let Q go and asked Paul, “Since when?”

            “Since I first saw you,” Paul said. “What? Do you not look in mirrors?”

            “I try not to.”

            “But that is weird,” Kris added, staring at Q.

            Q retreated into her flannel, her eyes dropping to the floor. “We can talk about this later,” Paul decided. “The important thing is will you keep Q?”

            Kris thought it over, a scowl crossing her face temporarily. “Sure.”

            Q let out a sigh of relief. “Great,” Paul responded, smiling and bringing his hands together. “Is there anything else we need to discuss before I go home?”

            Kris shook her head, and Q followed suit. “I see we’re good to go,” Paul continued. “Then, I’ll go.”

            Kris walked Paul to the door, opening the door for him. “Good bye Paul,” Kris said briskly.

            “Good bye Kristen,” Paul responded, before calling to Q, “Bye Q.”

            “Bye,” Q chirped.

            Paul left, and Kris closed the door, returning to the living room to find Q sitting on the couch. “Do you want some food?” Kris asked awkwardly.

            Q nodded. “Yeah, but can I also use your bathroom?”

            “Sure, it’s down the hall, first door on the left. Do you want to take a shower?”

            “That sounds great,” Q responded earnestly.

            “I’ll get you a towel and a change of clothes. Then, we can talk about food.”

            Kris walked with Q down the narrow hall. Q opened the door to the bathroom as Kris disappeared into a room, pulling off her flannel. The bathroom was small yet had space for a bathtub. Q fiddled with the knobs, managing to turn the shower on. She took off her tank top and shorts. Q stopped in front of the sink, taking herself in; she wondered what she actually looked like, maybe it was similar to this. Or maybe, she was a man before she forgot.

            Kris walked in, carrying a towel, and jumped when she saw half-dressed Q. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Kris said, looking away.

            Q laughed was punctuated by the running water. “Why? This is your body,” Q replied, placing her hands on her pale hips.

            Kris blushed. Eyes directed away from Q, Kris leaned over and handed her the towel. “Yeah,” Kris said awkwardly. “That reminds me. Do you know how you transform? Can you control it?”

            Q ran a hand through her hair, clutching the towel to her body. “No, it just happens,” She answered softly. “Maybe I will be able to control it, with practice.”

            “Hmm, well, you’ll have plenty of time to practice,” Kris commented. “Sorry, I’m distracting you. Go ahead take your shower. We can talk about this later.”

            Kris left the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Q shed Kris’s remaining clothes and stepped under the water.

+++++

            Q sat across from Kris at her small dining table. She was eating some leftover Chinese takeout that had been in Kris’s fridge. It was either this or eggs, since Kris doesn’t keep a lot of food in the house. “So, what powers do you have?” Q asked, swallowing some sweet and sour chicken.

            Kris ran a hand through her hand. “Um, my powers aren’t…” Kris started. “Set in stone, that is to say, I haven’t really tried my powers, since…”

            “Orange Day?”

            Kris chuckled once. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

            Q shrugged with a helpless smile. She forked another piece of chicken and put it in her mouth. Kris eventually answered, “I flew.”

            Q looked up, her eyes sparkling. “You can fly?!”

            “Yeah, I guess, but I haven’t done it since… Orange day.”

            Q leaned on both her elbows, putting her hands together under her chin. “Don’t you want to try? To fly again?”

            Kris grimaced, quickly replying, “Not really.”

            “Why not?”

            Kris shook her head and shrugged. “Oh, come off it,” Q commented. “You must know why you don’t want to try.”

            Kris sighed. “Because I don’t want to fly. I don’t want to have that power… Because if I have a power, then Paul will want me to be a superhero. I don’t want to be a superhero.”

            “Then tell Paul no.”

            Kris snorted derisively. “Yeah, that worked so well last time,” Kris snarked, gesturing to Q.

            Q smirked, rather self-aware and grateful that she did succumb last time. “Seriously, Paul can’t make you be a hero.”

            Kris laughed suddenly. “I just realized,” Kris said, a chuckle interrupting her speech. “We’re talking crazy… Self-indulgent, antagonistic, superfluous, and downright idiotic. Heroes? Just because something happened to us, doesn’t mean we should go out and fight crime. What we should be doing is trying to figure out how we got the powers in the first place.”

            “What about ‘with great power comes great responsibility’?”

            Kris crossed her arms, jerking her head. “Bullshit,” Kris answered stubbornly. “Just because I have a power, doesn’t mean I have to save your a*s, get your own powers.”

            Q dramatically put a hand over her heart. “That’s so cold.”

            “I shouldn’t be responsible for the world’s safety. I didn’t ask for this.”

            “Then again, I think this is all pointless, because the world doesn’t need us. The world doesn’t need heroes,” She continued.

            “Why do I have a feeling that the world is going to prove you wrong?”

            “Because book and movie tropes suggest that anything the realist character has doubts about must come to pass,” Kris droned.

            “No,” Q said in an almost chastising tone. “I think a mixed bag of people would have gotten powers. Like Paul is clearly a good guy, and would want to be a superhero, but you are neutral and couldn’t care less. However, other people… we don’t know. Not everyone is as nice as Paul.”

            Kris recalled Molly’s interesting story. “My cousin mentioned how somebody tried to rob her workplace. He ended up catching himself on fire, without matches.”

            “There’s a situation that would require a hero.”

            “No,” Kris said as if Q was stupid. “That situation would require a cop… and firefighters.”

            A smile twitched on Q’s face as her brow became more furrowed; she was entertained and frustrated at where this conversation was heading. “What if cops get hurt trying to fight a powered-up criminal?”

            “What if I get hurt trying to fight a ‘powered-up criminal’?”

            Q looked at her plate. Her sudden silence made Kris uncomfortable. Getting up, Q took her plate to the kitchen. “What was the point of this conversation again?”

            “You asked about my powers and said that I don’t have to be a hero,” Kris replied, turning to watch her go.

            “Right, thought so,” Q muttered. “That’s the point of it.”

            Kris stood up and followed her into the kitchen. Q put the plate in the sink, while Kris leaned on a counter. “Do you want to go to bed?”

            “With you?” Q joked. “No, you’d have to buy me dinner first.”

            Kris laughed dryly. “Ha, ha, funny. I see you have a sense of humor.”

            Q smiled. “Okay, I am being serious here. Where do I get to sleep?”

            Kris turned around, walking away while saying, “I have a spare bedroom.”

            Kris led Q to the door across from the bathroom. Kris stood outside while Q opened the door and went in. It was empty, except for a made bed. “Whose room was this?” Q asked lightly, moving to sit on the bed.

            Kris rested against the door frame. “It was Molly’s before she got her own apartment. Back when Alex lived here, we used this room for storage. When she left, she took everything with her, so now I have this big, empty room.”

            Q was silent for a moment, uneasily staring at her hands. Her aura had a different tension than the last time and Kris was fine waiting out the silence. Q started to wring her hands. “I never did thank you… For letting me stay here.”

            Kris smiled slightly, running a hand through her hair. “It’s no problem, really. Maybe having you here will get me out of the funk I’ve been having.”

            They were quiet again, until Q said, “Good night Kris.”

            “Good night Q,” Kris replied before shutting off the lights and leaving.

+++++

            A little girl crossed her arms and scowled at her brother from the center of their living space. “You’re late,” She said as he walked in the apartment.

            Paul stopped in the doorway and looked down at her. “And you’re still awake Espe, mi querida,” He answered chidingly. “So, it is fair that we are both upset.”

            Espe didn’t move, her glare becoming sharper. “Where were you?”

            Amused, Paul smiled. “I was helping out a stranger, Espe,” He answered, ruffling the girl’s hair.

            Paul walked past the girl, setting his keys and wallet in a dish by the door. Taking off his shoes, Paul glanced at Espe. “Well? Are you just going to stand there? Go to bed; I’ll tuck you in.”

            Espe skulked down the hallway to her room. Paul followed her, turning on the lights to her room as she got into bed. Paul went and sat at the end of the bed. “What did you really do?”

            “Alright,” Paul said as if he was giving in to her. “I was walking down the street after having dinner at a restaurant when I bumped into a nice lady. It turns out that she was looking for a friend that I knew, so I took her to our mutual friend’s apartment. Then I walked home.”

            The little girl had a frown on her face after the explanation was over. “That doesn’t sound like it would take too long.”

            “Yeah, but it was all downtown. If I took the bus, I would have been here a half hour sooner.”

            Espe finally nodded, accepting her brother’s tale. Paul patted her foot to get her attention. “So, what did you do today?”

            Espe’s eyes lit up. “Today in class, we were studying environments, so we went on a trip to the park.”

            “What park? We could go there again sometime.”

            “Aspen Spring Park, in downtown,” Espe answered, bouncing in place under her covers. “They had a bunch of trails through a forest, but they also had a playground made of fallen trees and boulders!”

            “That sounds fun… You must be tired from all that.”

            Espe yawned at the opportune time. “Yeah, but I wasn’t going to sleep until you get home.”

            “I’m home now,” Paul said, standing up and moving to kiss Espe on the forehead. “So, you can sleep in peace.”

            She yawned again. “Buenas noches, Paulo.”

            Paul walked to the door, switching off the light. “Buenas noches, Espe,” He whispered back.