Damn Good Times

[Tess Abrahams]

Redención House was unbearably crowded.

Granted, that was pretty much status quo for the halfway home that saw a regular flow of visitors in addition to it’s more permanent residents. With all the activity that double-digit occupancy brought there was always a baseline of busy energy about. But never before had that energy been transformed into such a stifling force, drawing the walls in closer and snuffing out what little air the summer heat hadn’t already quenched from the modest rooms. Perched on the edge of the couch, Tess felt the bumbling press of it itch against her skin and she squirmed, tucked her feet up underneath her body and then pulled them out again just as quickly. She cleared her throat and contemplated kicking the coffee table. Probably not a good idea.

On the muted TV screen, channel listings scrolled by slow as molasses reduction rolling uphill. There was nothing on, daytime television sucked. Which begged the question: why was anyone still watching?

“So.” Tess said brightly. “What’s going on today?”

[Aimee Connors]

"Nothing," said Aimee glumly, settling the TV on Ellen and holding onto the remote so no one else could change it. "Nothiiiiing." She curled up on the other couch, all the throw pillows bundled around her for maximum comfort.

On the screen Ellen was interviewing some actor, but Aimee could barely summon enough interest to pay attention. She looked sideways at Tess, and smiled crookedly. "What are you up to?"

[Ronnie Bluth]

Leaning back against the wall with a basketball passing back and forth between his hands in fast, nimble rhythm, Ronnie rolled his eyes at Aimee's choice of viewing entertainment and let his head fall back against the plaster with a thunk.

"Seriously, can't you put a game on or something?" the teenager groused, impatience bleeding into his tone. He glanced at the stairwell which remained stubbornly empty.

"Me'n Scott are heading down to the park," he said. Ball never wavering in it's left-right orbit, Ronnie raised his voice and directed his next words to the ceiling. "As soon as he stops primping and gets his ass down here!"

[Tess Abrahams]

How to do this subtly.

"I'm... going to this..." Tess went with a likely suspect. "PETA thing. We're going to picket in front of In-N-Outs all afternoon."

Ignoring the muffled groan that drifted over at that pronouncement, she offered Aimee an ambitious smile. The girl had been noticeably less animated ever since she'd lost her job - a completely understandable (though mildly frustrating under the present circumstances) response.

"You know, it's a really nice day out, Aimee," Tess said casually. "Maybe you should get some sun, go with the guys and shoot hoops. Vitamin D is essential to good health."

[Anna Fernandez]

"Come on, Jamie!" Anna paused on the stairs, looking into the family room as she beckoned upstairs to the girl. "I wan' to get to the mall before -" She paused. "Aimee, do you want to come?"

"No... I'm just going to watch some TV. Read a book." The seventeen year old didn't even look up, her head nestled on her arm as she laid on the couch.

"Okay." Anna turned to look back up just as Jamie flew downstairs, feet thundering like an elephant. "We will be back after dinner." Clothes shopping and dinner at the food court was a treat that Jamie needed after her recent nightmare.

Of course, Anna needed new clothes too, and was currently growing out of all her regular clothes. She jingled her keys, and they headed to the door.

[Aimee Connors]

"Bye Anna."

After a few moments filled with commercials and Ronnie jiggling the basketball around annoyingly, Aimee shifted and looked at Tess. "I don't do so well in the sun. Have you seen me with a tan? Exactly."

She propped herself up on one elbow. "Maybe I could go with you..?"

[Alex Kaine]

"So I really think it's something we should think about. Every mutant has their own perspective. It's not even like we're one whole new species, there are dozens, maybe even hundreds of new human species in the making, psychics, speedsters, shifters, pyrokinetics, and we need a society that can accommodate all those talents. Y'know, not just so we can survive, but so we can flourish."

Alex liked to walk while he talked, especially when the topic was some nuanced facet of mutant activism. It was really considerate of Aidan, then, to keep moving as Alex lectured him on the latest intellectual burden to occupy his mind. In the garden, through the cramped spaces of the garage, around the fence - Alex navigated the obstacles by muscle memory, because all his cognitive faculties were otherwise engaged.

"I think we should write one. The House. As a mutant community. What do you think?"

[Aidan Fox]

Aidan was on the point of giving up. He'd weeded the front row of tomatoes, cleared away some loose tools in the garage, and inspected the picket fence for God-knew what, and Alex had been an ever-present commentary through the whole exercise. The kid had his heart in the right place, but he had a way of taking single-mindedness to previously uncharted territory.

And Aidan had just realized he'd been asked a question, and he'd lost the last few sentences of context. "Uh... write one what?"

[Alex Kaine]

Alex only lost his momentum for a moment. "A mutant bill of rights," he said. "A document that lays the foundation for the ethical government of mutants. Of course, ideally, that's government of mutants by mutants, but there needs to be some guidelines for mundane governments, too."

Aidan had turned toward the kitchen, and Alex followed his trail like a terrier. "What do you think of this for Article One: All mutants have the right to practice and perfect their genetic gifts."

[Aidan Fox]

Aidan stepped inside and filled a glass of water from the sink. Drinking it gave him some time to reorient his thoughts to the conversation instead of to what he'd much rather be doing right now.

"It's a bit open-ended, isn't it?" he said. "What if you have someone with the ability to feed on the life energy of other human beings?"

[Alex Kaine]

"I'm not saying you don't have limits, I mean - everyone has to respect everyone else's rights," Alex said. "But that's the point, considering our rights as mutants... okay, your hypothetical energy vampire. It's his responsibility to find an expression of his power that can be a benefit to society. You know that, you're all over this kind of stuff."

[Aidan Fox]

Aidan set the glass down. "What are you doing later today?"

[Alex Kaine]

Alex's train of thought found the bridge was out, and it took him a moment to switch tracks. "Nothing, really. Got some reading to do. Why, you want to do something?"

[Aidan Fox]

Yes, actually...

Aidan threw a glance down the hall into the living room and caught Tess's eyes. There was a look of quiet desperation there that he could identify with deeply.

"I was just thinking," he said in a quiet voice. "Aimee's been really down ever since she lost her job. Maybe you and her could do something. Take her out to lunch, see a movie."

[Alex Kaine]

Alex studied Aidan's face for any clues that he might be missing something.

"You... you do know I'm dating Lana, right?" he said.

[Aidan Fox]

"I'm not talking about a date, just... as friends. She looks up to you, you identify with each other." Aidan shrugged and looked in Tess's direction again. "You know, sometimes you just need the personal attention of someone who cares about you. That's all."

He dug into his pocket and pulled out a twenty.

[Alex Kaine]

Alex put up a hand. "Oh no, dude, you don't have to--"

[Aidan Fox]

"Just think of it as a favor," Aidan said, and then he decided to take the guilt tack. "You know, I think Anna would really appreciate it."

He gave Alex the most earnest look he knew.

[Alex Kaine]

Alex hesitantly took the bill and then slipped it into his pocket. "Uh... okay, sure."

Then he headed down the hallway into the family room where Tess, Aimee, and Ronnie were gathered in various states of restlessness and lethargy. "Hey, guys. What's going on?"

[Tess Abrahams]

For a moment the cringing guilt was so strong that Tess almost caved. How hard could it be to find an animal rights display on the fly in a city as vocally charged as Los Angeles?

No, no. Focus.

"Well, the thing is," Tess started, trying to ignore the way Aimee's smile started to droop. "We'll be out in the sun, too. And these things can get really obnoxious and serious. Honestly, Aimee, hanging out with a bunch of angry vegan advocates is the last thing you need right now. What about - "

And there was Alex, beautiful Alex whose entrance was like a brown-paper package tied up with string. Aidan trailed just behind and Tess gave him a half-glance because any more than that and the jig would be up, poker face smashed to smithereens.

Tess brought her hands together in an enthusiastic clap. "Well, Ronnie and Scott are off to get some fresh air and I'm doing one of my things and Aimee here is open for suggestions. What about you, Alex?"

[Alex Kaine]

Alex had the very surreal feeling of walking into a scripted event. Something about the quiet, steady insistence from Aidan and the somewhat manic enthusiasm from Tess made him wonder if he should be inspecting Ronnie for a camera or if he should be focusing on remembering his lines.

"Well, I'm, uh... pretty much free?"

[Aimee Connors]

Aimee sighed, silently agreeing with Tess' assessment of the PETA thing. She reallycdidn't want to hang out with a bunch of vegan crazies, but she wouldnt mind spending time with Tess. Maybe talk to her about girl stuff.

Jen was at work, and never had the right perspective when it came to things Aimee wanted to talk about. She flicked to another channel, tired of Ellen's antics, and burrowed her small body further into the nest of pillows.

[Ronnie Bluth]

"Ronnie and Scott are trying to get some fresh air," Ronnie corrected darkly, glowering at the ceiling. "SCOTT!"

[Scott Green]

As if on cue, Scott rounded the corner in a pale blue Hurley tee and checkered board shorts, his hair masterfully gelled to look as though he didn't own a comb and had just rolled out of bed after a hard night on the town. The teenager's chromatophoric skin shifted as he stepped into the brightness of the family room, reflecting the pale green walls.

"Dude," he snorted at Ronnie, gesturing to his face. "You can't rush perfection."

Ronnie rolled his eyes but the demonstration was lost on Scott, who seemed to notice all at once that there was a congregation in the den, an air of stilted activity clinging to the corners. "Hey sweet, are you guys coming too?"

[Tess Abrahams]

"No!"

It came out louder than she'd intended. Aware that the boys were now staring in somewhat alarmed curiosity, Tess shook her head and took a slow, calming breath. Namaste, namaste, namaste. "Uh, no. We're not. You guys go on ahead though, the courts are probably filling up."

Or maybe they weren't. Tess really didn't have any idea about the population flow on basketball courts in rural California neighborhoods during the summer months. And frankly, she didn't care.

Two down, two to go. Everything was so close. "So Aimee, Alex. Neither of you have plans. You're both free. At the same time."

[Alex Kaine]

This was... this was his cue, right? What was he supposed to say again?

"Uh... yeah. I guess we are."

Alex looked fecklessly at Aimee, hoping she could make some sense of this.

[Aimee Connors]

Aimee looked at Alex over the back of the couch as Ronnie and Scott slammed the front door on their way out, already trash talking as they jogged away from the house. "Uh, okay."

She shifted on the sofa, sitting a little more upright. "Am I missing something here?"

[Alex Kaine]

Alex slid his eyes from Aimee to Tess. The older girl was practically sending him telepathic signals.

"Well," he said, "apparently Aidan and Tess are trying to get us out of the house for unspecified reasons. Maybe they're painting it or something. I dunno. So, Aidan gave me twenty bucks. Want to go get lunch and rent some movies?"

From down the hall came the light smack of a hand hitting a forehead.

[Tess Abrahams]

"What? That is not even... this is friendly concern, here... Alex," Tess crossed her arms over her chest and dismissed his implication with a huff.

Tips of her ears flushing in a guily tell, the woman turned to Aimee with dignity, brow lofted in a way that clearly said, well?

[Aimee Connors]

They were all staring at her, and Aimee flushed, a darker purple creeping across her cheeks. "What!? I don't need my hand held - I'm not going to go jump off a bridge or something. I didn't even like my job."

She sighed. "Fine, lets go have lunch, Alex. Going out and being stared at some will be great for my self esteem." Aimee slowly got off the couch and started down the hall to find a pair of shoes in the understairs closet.

[Alex Kaine]

Alex stood back against the wall as Aimee scuffled on by. Then he gave Tess a sideways look that said, Really?

"Okay, so..." He shoved his hands into his pockets and felt for his wallet and cell phone there. "I guess we're going out. Have fun, um. Painting."

Alex headed back to hook up with Aimee. Moments later, the back door swung shut, leaving Aidan and Tess alone in the house.

[Aidan Fox]

Aidan stepped into the living room, feeling like he was wading knee-deep in thick, miry awkwardness.

"Well, that, um... that honestly could have been worse."

[Tess Abrahams]

As soon as the echoing door slam sounded, Tess let out a groan and collapsed sideways on the couch, burrowing into a pile of faded floral pillows. Her face flushed now with the giddy thrill of suburban espionage and she took a few deep breaths, inhaling thick air that smelled of dust and dryer sheets and stale Doritos.

Minutes passed with nothing but the familiar sounds of the House settling around them, rushing pipes and the tackatackatacka of blinds rattling in the breeze, and no one came back for forgotten sunglasses or iPods or granola bars or whatever it was that simply couldn't wait a few hours.

Aidan's voice drew her from the burrow of cusions and Tess sat up, hands pressed against her cheeks.

"I can't believe you bribed him," she grinned. "It's like we're in The Godfather."

[Aidan Fox]

Aidan slipped between the easy chair and the sofa. "Not a bribe, just a little something to cover lunch and... I don't know, a couple tickets at the dollar theater..."

He sat down next to Tess, and the overstuffed cushions sighed under his weight. "Okay. It was a bribe. But what the heck. It was worth it."

Aidan leaned in and kissed her before she could make another move.

[Tess Abrahams]

Tess laughed against his mouth, heart giving a resounding thump, and chased his kiss with another as her fingers carded through his hair.

"Oh," she managed with a smirk, shifting so that they were pressed together without having to twist, faces lingering millimeters apart. Aidan's breath danced across her cheek. "Definitely worth it."

[Aidan Fox]

Aidan reciprocated with a hand through Tess's dark hair, and he twisted in his seat to pull her into a closer embrace when--

"Ow! Dammit, sorry..."

He rubbed gingerly at the distressingly deep wound at the bottom of his ribcage and winced. "No, no, I'm fine, I just have to be careful how I stretch."

[Tess Abrahams]

The space between Tess's eyebrows creased softly and she brushed aside Aidan's protests, rucking his shirt up to reveal a neat patch of bandage, gauze stained with a rusty dampness. Around it's edges, where the medical tape didn't cover, his skin was a patchwork of purple and dark blue bruising.

With gentle fingers, Tess pulled back on the bandage to check on the wreckage beneath. It made her breath catch, still. "You and your stupid hero complex..."

[Aidan Fox]

Aidan's mouth flickered as she probed the edges of the bandage. "It's not that bad, really. I had a very good surgeon."

He took a deep breath, and his lean abdomen rose and fell under Tess's touch. Really, having her hands there wasn't an altogether bad thing. If anything, considering what they'd gone through recently, that simple bridge of contact was even more personal than a kiss. Funny how forty-eight hours could change your perspective on a person.

Actually, if he had to be honest with himself, those feelings had been planted weeks ago. It had just taken the right circumstances to bring them to the surface.

[Tess Abrahams]

48 Hours Previously...


For the bargain price of $50 at the local office supply store, one could get five hundred black and white 8 1/2 x 11 copies printed. And - provided that one was interested, of course - if there was only one employee on duty and it was nearing afternoon break time and that employee was a smoker jonesing for a nicotine hit and really not interested in listening to some broad go on and on about public action, that price got dropped to $40 and labeled as a bulk discount.

Slap.

With a cheery smile out of place in the morning hours, Tess leaned over Aidan's shoulder and smothered the newspaper article he was engrossed in with a bolded flier, pinning it to the table.

LOS SANTOS NEIGHBORHOOD WATCH MEET & GREET!

All residents welcome! Crime prevention awareness evening at the Palm Street Community Center - refreshments provided!

Together we can make a difference!

Below the large print the date and time - set for the following Friday evening - was centered and surrounded by a border of cheery smiley faces that Tess thought added a little welcoming touch.

"You're invited," she sing-songed, dropping a thick stack of identical sheets on the other end of the table and waltzing to the coffee pot. "There'll be donuts, too."

[Aidan Fox]

Aidan peeled the sheet off his newspaper and studied it with wrinkle-browed scrutiny. It shouted at him with all the unsubtle enthusiasm that only comic sans and clip art can convey.

"Uh... looks great," he said, and then he glanced over to the small tower of fliers on the other end of the table. "You planning on dropping these out of a plane?"

[Tess Abrahams]

"Don't be ridiculous," Tess snorted as she poured a mugful of java. "That's a PR stunt used by corporate giants to make a statement, not send a message."

Because there was a great deal of ground to cover and time was ticking away, she decided against her usual bowl of oatmeal and instead veered back to the table to grab a banana from the fruit bowl at it's center. "To make a personal impact, you have to talk to people face-to-face. I'm canvassing the neighborhood."

[Aidan Fox]

Aidan frowned. "I don't think there are this many houses in the neighborhood," he said. "Where were you planning on taking these?"

[Tess Abrahams]

"Crenshaw, Pico-Union, West Adams," Tess shrugged, peeling back bright banana skin. "Pretty much everywhere within the census borders."

[Aidan Fox]

Aidan set the flyer flat on the table. "West Adams. You're planning on walking door-to-door in West Adams."

He searched her face for any sign of a joke. It'd be in poor taste, sure, but anything would be better than -

Shit, she was serious.

"Tess, do you know anything about that part of town?"

[Tess Abrahams]

There was a pause while Tess parsed the question, considering Aidan more than the query itself. His body language screamed a level of incredulity that was a bit much, to be frank.

"Uh, it was founded in the late 1800s and has a great historic district," she said slowly, taking a bite of fruit. She chewed the soft, mealy flesh casually and washed it down with a swallow of coffee. "Though the residential area is pretty sad. Google says there's been a six percent increase in violent crime since '07 alone - ought to be a lot of receptive ears."

[Aidan Fox]

"A lot of receptive ears," Aidan repeated. He stood up out of his seat and took a few steps around the kitchen table, hands on hips.

"Tess, remember when I took you looking for jobs, and I rushed through that one factory district with all the broken windows and the guys in wife beaters? That's West Adams. It's Barrio Boneyard central. And the places the Bones stay away from? They're controlled by the Three Elevens. It is not a place to be walking around, especially not if you're passing out crime prevention flyers. You might as well wear a sandwich board that says 'please shoot me now.'"

[Tess Abrahams]

Tess's face twisted as she watched him pace. "That's a little dramatic, don't you think?"

In fact she did remember the buckling streets now, dry and dusty and sad in a way that smacked of years of desperation and neglect. And Aidan's protest had a certain amount of validity to it, sure - but he was overreacting.

"It's mid-morning, Aidan, and it's not like I'll be shouting through a bullhorn," Tess said. She took another bite of banana and set it down, started to tri-fold a stack of fliers so they'd fit in her messenger bag without getting crumpled. "Seriously, it'll be okay. I've been doing this since I was still in a stroller."

[Aidan Fox]

"Okay, it's midmorning," Aidan conceded. "What time will it be when you get to West Adams? I mean, it's not like the other neighborhoods are the safest places in the world, either."

[Tess Abrahams]

"Which is exactly why I'm doing this. Thank - excuse me," Tess moved past Aidan to drop her banana peel in the trash. "Thank you for making my point. The neighborhoods aren't safe."

There was a stiff snap of paper as she waved a flier in the air.

[Aidan Fox]

Aidan folded his arms. "You haven't answered my question. What time will it be when you get to West Adams?"

[Tess Abrahams]

"Oh my God. I don't know, probably around four? I don't have a detailed timetable. Next time I'll be better prepared, Big Ben."

Clearly annoyed, Tess shook her head. "The point is, it's not going to be dark out. There'll probably be kids outside."

[Aidan Fox]

"Yeah, kids like we saw, who grow up idolizing the murderers who control the neighborhood. Listen, Tess..."

He sighed to let off some steam pressure. Getting petulant would only make her less inclined to listen.

"I respect what you're doing, I really do. And I know you don't want to compromise. But I know these streets, and some of them are dangerous all times of the day, especially if you're a young woman walking alone."

[Tess Abrahams]

That irked a bit on her feminist ideals but mostly because Tess had to admit that there was more truth to it than she liked.

"Noted," she nodded and her face softened a bit. "Aidan, I appreciate the concern. But I can take care of myself."

Before he could take that as a dismissal, she reached into her back pocket and yanked out a pocket-sized Mace dispenser. "And I'm not unarmed."

[Aidan Fox]

Aidan kept his arms crossed. He could think of a hundred situations where that can of mace would be as effective as a bottle of perfume. But Tess was an idealist, not an idiot, and she certainly wasn't a child. So why did he feel such a personal responsibility for her safety?

At last he let his hands drop down to his pockets with a sigh. "Well, it's... it's better than nothing. Would you do me a favor? When you get to West Adams, could you give me a call? I'd just feel more comfortable knowing where you are, and what your plans are."

He laughed suddenly. "Sorry, I must be spending too much time around Anna. I sound like a mother hen."

[Tess Abrahams]

Tess arched a brow. "I was going to go with 1950s domestic tyrant but hen works, too."

Aidan's worry was a little perplexing. Of course, they all looked out for one another in the House and as adults, naturally maintained a more direct interest in the whereabouts and well-being of the kids. But there were natural limits and this felt like...

Felt like what? Tess shook off the odd feeling. They'd been spending a lot of time together lately, had become better friends because of it. That was all this was.

"Yes, I will call you," Tess pulled her phone out and checked the battery, then thumbed the keys rapidly. "Look - I'm even setting a reminder. Call... Aidan... let know... not dead..."

[Aidan Fox]

He had to admit he probably deserved that.

Aidan shouted down the part of him that still wanted to protest, partly because he didn't want to start a fight that wouldn't accomplish anything, and partly because he'd have a hard time explaining his intimate knowledge of the gang traffic in Los Santos and the surrounding neighborhoods.

"Thanks. That's all I'm asking, really."

No, it wasn't, it was a compromise, and the way Aidan was drumming his fingers on a chair back probably made that painfully clear, but he knew a losing battle when he saw one. "I need to get to the garage in an hour, but you need a hand with anything?"

[Tess Abrahams]

"You can pin one of these on the board at work," Tess slipped a flier from the stack and slid it across the table. "Preferably over that 'purely professional' Hot Import Nights sign."

That was a bit of a cheap shot considering the poster in question was curled and faded, it's advertised date preceded Aidan's employment by a good two years. Still, it was the sort of blatant sexual objectification that grated on her nerves like nails on a chalkboard and the one time she'd stopped by the garage - to relay a message from Anna - her eyes had zeroed in on it, homing beacons of offended disgust that had been further insulted when the man behind the desk laughed off her offer to take it down for him. At least Aidan couldn't possibly have an objection to camouflaging such a gratuitous display.

With a good thwack of leaflets in her messenger bag, hunger abated and middle ground reached, Tess prepared to leave. She ruffled Aidan's hair playfully as she passed and grinned.

"Don't worry, buddy," Tess said, backing out of the kitchen. "It'll be a walk in the park."


* * *

"Nobody's home!"

"It sounds like someone is..."

The door eased open a few scant centimeters to reveal fiery, suspicious eyes. "Don' want what you're selling, geura."

"Oh, well, I'm not selling anything. My name is Tess and I'm a volunteer in the area - "

"Not interested."

"I don't blame you, I haven't said anything interesting yet but - oh no, wait wait wait...."

The door closed with enough force to unsettle the crucifix hanging crookedly at it's center and Tess sighed, lowering the invitation that she'd thrust out in a desperate attempt to slow down what was becoming the standard response from householders of all varieties. It didn't matter what she said when the door was opened - if it was opened at all because most were content to either pretend they hadn't heard (even though she could hear them and had seen the curtains twitch) or yell through the two inches of particle board to vamos before they called la policia on her for trespassing.

Which wasn't actually a valid threat. Without posted signs stating that solicitation wasn't welcome and that it was private property, legislature dictated that there wasn't anything they could do except ask her to leave... but try explaining that to the stay-at-home mom whose soap you'd just interrupted.

With a dispirited sigh and an even heavier feeling of discouragement, Tess schlepped back down the buckled concrete walkway of the pastel single-level. Her bag was nearly as heavy as it had been when she'd left the house hours ago but now there was no excited eagerness to buoy it as she surveyed the street that stretched out before her. The farther she'd gotten from their little neighborhood, the less reception she'd received. It didn't make sense. These were the pockets of community who would benefit most from a combined opposition effort toward the gang problems. Why weren't they jumping at the chance to be a part of it?

Volunteering is often a thankless effort that yields rich rewards. How many times had her mother repeated that? And yet, despite a couple of positive responses around noon, all Tess had earned was a sweaty face and a sour reality check.

Battling back the sense of uselessness with a beleaguered determination, she trudged on. Maybe it was time for a shift, a new block. Sometimes that did the trick, changing the scenery and starting fresh on a blank slate. From her bag, Tess tugged out a folded street map and surveyed it as she walked, hand absently straying to her pocket to silence her buzzing phone.

Call Aidan, let know not dead.

[Aidan Fox]

The garage at Angelinos Tire and Auto was a cacophony at the best of times, when the overdriven speakers of the old stereo in the corner had to compete with air compressors, power ratchets, and whining lift motors. It was the sort of noise that solidified the air and wrapped you up like a blanket, comforting in an odd sort of way that made you lose track of time as you labored through the same repetitive tasks day in and day out. Loosen lugnuts, pull down the wheel, inspect, repeat three times, rotate, replace, fasten. Next car. Even when the work required a little more conscious thought, the sound made up a wall that reflected your thoughts inward, focused you on what you were holding in your gritty hands, kept you locked in on the task. When you knew your work inside and out, only your hands had to do any thinking.

Aidan was halfway through disassembling the work of yet another amateur mechanic who'd bought the biggest turbocharger he could afford and inflicted it on a poor, unassuming Honda Civic that had only ever wanted to be a commuter car. Two scorched composite seals had already crumbled in his fingers as he removed them, and the acrid smell rolling off the engine block was decidedly unhealthy.

"'Might need some adjustment,' my ass," Aidan grumbled as he wiped his greasy hands on the rag tucked into his pocket. He looked over his shoulder and yelled, "Hey, Marco - it's like I thought, the turbo's too big. He's lucky if he just fried some piston rings."

The master mechanic on duty threw him a look and shook his head. "Damn stupid kid. Okay, I'll talk to the owner and get you the work order."

"I can get started on it, but you tell him this job isn't getting done today," Aidan said. "It's already..." He glanced at the clock on the back wall and adjusted for the seven minutes it always seemed to lose. "...four thirty."

"You're working until seven, aren't you?" Marco said. "If he can wait, you can get it done."

"Not if I need to rebuild the whole engine - damn it."

Marco had already disappeared to the front counter. Aidan sighed and started building his mental case against another night of forced overtime, and as he glanced over the clock again, he wondered why it made him think he was forgetting something.

Tess!

He reached into his shirt pocket to pull out his cell phone - he'd tucked it here instead of the loose hip pocket of his coveralls so he'd know he'd feel it. He hadn't missed any calls. Of course, it was possible she was running late and had decided she'd wait until she actually got to West Adams. He was considering punching up her number anyway when the phone came alive in his hand.

It wasn't Tess's number.

Aidan ducked out the back door of the garage to the concrete pad reserved for smoke breaks. "Hey. This is Fox."

Jose Marano's reedy voice greeted him from the other end. "Hey, vato, wanted to let you know we're go for Operation Bonebreaker."

Aidan had to reorient his mind from engine components to gang machinations - that was the one where La Raza orchestrated a hit-and-run in the no-man's land between the Tres Onces and the Barrio Boneyard to weaken the uneasy truce between the two of them. Start a turf war between the Elevens and the Bones, and the Elevens might have to pull the last of their assets out of Los Santos. "Okay, fine," he said. "When do you want to do it?"

"Right now. Chingates are out in force in West Adams, lotta gasoline just waiting for a match."

Oh, hell. Aidan felt the whole garage drop away beneath his feet, leaving him in a freefall. "What do you mean, now? It's still daylight!"

"What does that have to do with anything? Onces don't care when they pull their shit. Don't worry, vato, we got it covered, this is just FYI."

"Call it off," Aidan said. "Just... just for a few hours, okay? Marano, I've got a friend in West Adams right now, I need to get her out."

"Look, I'm sorry, man, your friend gonna have to watch out for herself. Slim and Shadow are already movin'. Gotta go."

"Marano--" The line had already gone dead. "Shit."

Aidan punched in Tess's number and listened while the phone rang, then sent him to voicemail. He canceled and dialed again.

"Shit!"

He rushed back into the garage just as Marco walked in with a fresh work order in hand. "All right, Aidan--"

"Look, Marco, I'm sorry, but something just came up," Aidan said. "Family emergency. I have to go right now."

He didn't even bother to wait for Marco's indignant tirade. He rushed through the garage and into the employee lot where he'd parked his Harley, knocked back the kickstand, and raced out of the parking lot into the streets of Los Santos.

[Tess Abrahams]

Go lightly from the ledge, babe. Go lightly on the ground...

There wasn't a single situation in life that couldn't be improved by a little 1960s folk music. While she'd forgotten her iPod - Aimee had borrowed it to use on a run; apparently The Matrix soundtrack was an incredible motivator - the last few years had seen leaps and bounds made in the cell phone department. Verizon had a legion of entry-level models that had astonishing musical capabilities, even on the most basic of their nationwide calling plans.

While the nasal tones of Bob Dylan banjoed through a pair of earbuds attached to her phone, Tess glanced between the map in her hands and the crumbling block around her, frowning. She wasn't the best instinctive navigator but growing up in rural Oregon had provided plenty of opportunities for following plotted courses, many of the wild wooded trails off her family's property unmarked except for diagrams in the state hiking guidebook. City streets should have been simple by comparison.

Yet somehow she had managed to break away from the run of residential properties and into what appeared to be the back end of a row of industrial lots, abandoned warehouses and small banks of office buildings, many of their windows broken in jagged relief, lining the pavement. They were caged in by sagging lengths of chain link fence, a wall of ponch-bellied barrier held up by exhausted support poles that bent toward the ground in beleaguered defeat, as though they were preparing to surrender entirely to the fading neighborhood.

As dismal as the sight was, what caught her attention was the cluster of defiant homeboys nestled against the edge of an old construction supply dealer. There were at least six out in the open air, leaning against a low-riding, long stretch of rusted maroon car and perched on a long-forgotten concrete culvert that was settled in a crop of overgrown yellowed grass. A steady thumping bassline growled through the open windows of the car, a song that was obviously popular by the way it made the men - boys - bob their heads and laugh, jostling each other in a casual and easy way. But as lighthearted as they were with one another, it was clear that they weren't simply chilling for kicks. There was too much of a sharpness to them; they were scouting.

Tess swore under her breath and yanked the buds from her ears. She was more than halfway down the street and it was empty, save for the gangbangers. Maybe she could turn around now and -

One of them, tall and with broad shoulders that angled back in challenge even while the rest of him reposed against the hood, nudged a slim-hipped cholo wearing low-slung pants and a bandana tied around his forehead with his elbow. He jerked his head at Tess.

Crap. Crap. Ignore them. She'd just keep walking and ignore them. The end of the block wasn't -

A shrill whistle pierced the air, leering and drawn out.

"You lost, guera?" the skinny one called. "Come here, I'll show you aroun'!" He grinned, made an obscene gesture with his hips that drew a rousing laugh from his companions.

Tess kept walking and pulled her phone from her pocket. They said you should do that, right? If you felt like you were maybe getting into a sticky situation? Call someone or pretend to call someone, let the other party know that you're not unaccounted for, that you'll be missed and that people are aware of your position. And oh crap, it was already quarter-of-five.

"Hey! Don' play like that, I know you can hear me!"

She scrolled through to Aidan's number and hit send, aware that the group of gangbangers was approaching as a collective pack, their voices high with a kind of excitement that made her stomach clench. The messenger bag on her shoulder felt like it weighed a million tonnes.

And then the ringing stopped and clicked over to Aidan's voicemail. As his bored voice sounded out a perfunctory recording, Tess picked up the pace and tried to keep her voice level. She sensed, rather than witnessed, the gang members behind her shift their trajectory, angling across the street so they could intercept her.

"Aidan, it's Tess. I'm... oh shoot... uh, I'm on Addison right now? Anyway I think you... were maybe a little more right than I gave you credit for. If you could please, please call me. Um -"

"Who's on the phone, chica? Your boyfriend?"

"Man, she ain't got no boyfrien', she trollin' down our streets."


"So if you could do that. That would - "

Tess was interrupted by a cheery computerized female voice instructing her that if she were satisfied with her message, she could hang up at any time. If she wished to rerecord, she could press 2. Thank you for calling.

Tess's mouth went dry and her grip on the slim cell tightened.

[Aidan Fox]

Addison. It very much made a difference whether you were east or west of La Hoya Avenue. To the East was a scattering of low-income housing, convenience stores, and an elementary school. To the West was a depressed commercial district that was right on the firing line between the 3-11s and the Bones. Aidan didn't give it a second thought when he saw the street sign looming - he angled into the left turning lane and sped down Addison's western leg.

There wasn't much traffic this way, and all the traffic he saw merited watching. He caught suspicious glares from the tinted-windows of a gray Chevy Impala as he hurtled past, and more from the storefront windows of an old, disused laundromat across the way. There was no way to move stealthily on a Harley traveling fifty miles per hour over urban streets.

He slowed down marginally when he spotted a cluster of activity on the sidewalk near a sprawling parking lot. It looked like a half-dozen or so gangbangers wearing the black-and-white colors of the Boneyard harassing a young woman like a pack of dogs surrounding a fresh cut of meat. Aidan's V-twin snarled as he overtook the posse and skidded to a halt in front of them.

His eyes found Tess's, which were wide and tight with fear. "Tess, get on," he ordered.

He didn't even spare a glance for the Bones - he probably didn't cut that imposing a figure in his nametagged garage coveralls - but he doubted they'd give up their quarry without some kind of resistance.

[Tess Abrahams]

The throaty rumble of an engine splitting the air had never sounded so blessedly heroic. Frozen up until then in the solid knowledge that she was in very real danger of becoming a routine incident on the 6 o'clock news, Tess felt her muscles loosen to a trembling point. She wasn't alone now; everything would be okay.

"Ay, Mami, who's your friend?" Chuckled one of the loping bangers, sizing Aidan up. There was a slow shift in intent amongst the group, their predatory amusement hardening into a rippling disquiet. Unsettling as the change was, it happened with such a fluid collectivism that it was almost like watching a National Geographic special on group hunting in the wild: a beautiful danger.

The tall one who had initiated everything - clearly the alpha of this small crew - slid a slow gaze along the Harley's body and smiled. There was no friendliness in it.

"Relax, hombre," he said to Aidan. His teeth gleamed. "We were jus' being neighborly." One of his hands snaked forward and he brushed Tess's waist, fingers playing along the border of her jeans. The woman skittered backward amidst a chorus of shadowy laughs. "We own this barrio, wanna be polite."

Tess kept backing up toward the bike, afraid that any sudden movements would loose the coiled spring of tension. The Bones were widening out now, spreading shoulder-to-shoulder in a curved wall as they advanced.

"What's your rush, mamacita, don't you like us?"

"Puta gotta get back to her alcahuete, isn't that right, ese?"

"Screw you," Tess spluttered, anger overriding her terror. She was nearly to Aidan and she reached into her pocket, pulled out the pocket Mace and clutched it at her side where it was visible as she clumsily stumbled the last few steps. Her heart was pounding like a drum as she climbed onto the back of the bike, eyes never leaving the pack, and though she tried she couldn't quite conceal the trembling in her hands as she looped them around Aidan's waist.

[Aidan Fox]

Aidan didn't relax a single muscle. His waist was rigid under Tess's arms, and he started to glide away from the gaggle of bangers the moment he felt her weight settle on the Harley's tail.

"Whatever happens," he said, "hold on tight."

He wasn't leaving anything to chance. He twisted the throttle, and the bike surged forward, chased by the hooting laughter of the Bones. And that was when everyone heard it - a staccato popping noise echoing somewhere in the adjacent blocks, followed by raised voices, screams of alarm and shouts of outrage. Tires squealed, and then there was a sharper, more distinct crack crack crack report, this one nearer, much too near, and coming closer.

[Tess Abrahams]

Tess pressed her cheek to Aidan's back as the Harley shot off, felt the hard draw of tension ridged in the space between his shoulderblades like a swelling tide while the street stretched into a blur below. His coveralls were sun-warmed and smelled of engine oil and a deep, sharp scent that she couldn't identify but that called up mental images of hard work and industrialized progress. The combination would always now be associated with a dizzy sense of relief. If he'd come just a few minutes later...

But now wasn't the time for supposed projections. Tess gripped Aidan tightly, no idea of where exactly they were heading. Out of the commercial district was the only direction that really mattered. Maybe he could swing back to the residential strip and be persuaded to stay while she finished off covering the territory? She couldn't very well let an encounter with the very people she was campaigning against scare her off, that would send a terrible message.

But the notion didn't get a chance to settle because at that moment a burgundy Monte Carlo screamed around the corner, it's back end sweeping a wide arc across the street before shuddering into the lane. It was accompanied by that strange air-splitting burst of sound; for a moment Tess thought the car had blown a tire in during it's throttling efforts, it would serve them right.

Only the Chevy kept on coming like it had something hot on it's heels and with no list to either side. There was an arm poised from one of the open windows, a dangerous glint of steel clutched in hand.

"Oh my God!" Tess gasped. And even before it fully registered that that was a freaking gun, she screamed and instinctively jerked back.

[Aidan Fox]

The violent reaction was enough to send the Harley wobbling, and Aidan fought the handlebars to keep the bike's trajectory steady as the burgundy Monte Carlo barreled down on them. Tres Once, Bone, or La Raza, it didn't matter - he and Tess were just one more fleeing target.

"Lean right!" Aidan roared, and he jerked the bike hard toward a looming alleyway. His knees nearly kissed the street, and the drive wheel skidded and slipped over the slick pavement until he found traction and rocketed into the gap between two concrete office towers.

The Harley's brakes shrieked as they ground to halt in the shadowy alley. Behind them they could hear the roar of the Monte Carlo's engine and the pop of the passenger's hand gun, answered by a sprinkling of fire from the Bones they'd just left behind. But that was just one skirmish out of a dozen. The neighborhood had become a warzone in a matter of seconds, and the air was full of chattering gunfire.

"What the hell were you doing on Addison?" Aidan demanded, fear and anger and desperation all mixed together.

[Tess Abrahams]

"I got turned around," Tess snapped defensively, heart in her throat. They were suddenly smack dab in the middle of a hot point and every ricocheting chorus of fire made her flinch.

A spray of cement shards exploded at the mouth of the alley as a bullet glanced off the edge of the building, far too close for comfort. A hoarse shout was cut off by a volley of cracks and the soundtrack played on at a terrifying pitch. They weren't going to be able to take cover here for long.

"Look, you can be irritated later," Tess yelled. "Right now we have to get out of here!"

[Aidan Fox]

"I'm working on it."

Aidan kneaded the rubber of the handgrips. He wasn't looking toward the splinters of concrete where a few stray bullets had fallen short - those shooters didn't have the angle on them. Instead, he was looking up, as if the brick high-rises to either side weren't there, and with each crack of gunfire he locked his eyes on the origin.

"Ashlyn," he muttered, and then another report sent him craning over his right shoulder. "Thirty-fourth and Cline."

Somewhere behind him, an engine screamed, followed by the wobbling squeal of skidding tires. "Clayton. You're heading toward Clayton. It's open behind us. Let's go!"

He locked the front brake and pumped the throttle, sending up a shriek of rubber and a cloud of smoke, and he kicked hard against the pavement to swing the Harley's spinning rear tire around.

"Keep your head down and hold on to me."

Aidan released the brake, and the drive wheel bit, launching the bike forward and back out the alley the way they came, straight across all four lanes of Addison, and into the nest of alleys and accessways honeycombing the opposite block.

[Tess Abrahams]

Knifing through the narrow urban veins seemed like an impossible task even as it was happening. Littered with the debris of rundown and forgotten businesses, the weaving alleys were like levels of a racing arcade game in which avoiding the physical obstacles was just crucial to survival as outwitting your fellow drivers. Aidan flew along as though it were a wide-open airfield and there were nothing ahead but the long, even line of the horizon with the sun burning out upon it in a magnificent haze. As they whipped past a crumbling stack of pallets, tires spraying through a stagnant puddle of oil and gutter runoff, Tess had a horrifying vision of bursting clear of the hail of gunfire only to go out in a mighty explosion when the Harley was sent flipping through the air by carelessly abandoned steel cable.

That very probably only happened in summer blockbusters. But Tess's grip on Aidan's waist was a vice, her arms numb with tension. If they did go airborne, she wasn't keen on taking a swan dive.

Just let us get out of here, just let us get out of here, the woman chanted inwardly, pleading with whatever force was out there. Please just let us get out of here...

They were approaching the end of a long stretch of back street, the shaft of light growing ever closer and Tess held her breath until they cut through, free of the maze walls and on an open street. The relief was shortlived - as the bike burst into the open air, a peripheral flash of chrome caught the sun's glare.

"Aidan look out!" Tess shouted into the wind as the car screamed toward them.

[Aidan Fox]

The road met the alley at an angle, and they were in very real danger of meeting the side of a Mercedes Benz. Aidan jerked into the oncoming lane, sacrificing speed for stability, which meant he was stuck side-by-side between a lane full of parked vehicles and the two-ton monster. Guns were superfluous when one turn of the wheel could squash the Harley into sheet metal and twisted pipes.

Aidan watched the driver carefully, trying to read his intentions, and it was several seconds before he realized how closely he was being watched, too. He didn't know the driver, but in the passenger seat was Julio, the Tres Once lieutenant who'd been in charge of Los Santos until recently.

Julio raised his cell phone to his tattered right ear and said something - a single sentence. And then the Mercedes braked and turned down a side street, falling behind.

"Shit," Aidan said. "I think we're in trouble."

[Tess Abrahams]

"You think?" Tess replied incredulously, voice raised to sound over the squealing of distant tires and echoing cracks in the air. She flicked a glance back at the corner where the sleek Mercedes had suddenly disappeared. "Who were those guys?"

[Aidan Fox]

"Tres Onces," Aidan shouted back. "Somebody high up, judging from the car. What worries me is who he was calling--"

There was a hissing sound from overhead, and Aidan craned his head up to see a trail of inky black smoke arcing over them from a rooftop. The smoke lanced down from the sky and struck the pavement in front of them, expanding in a billowing cloud.

"Damn it--"

Aidan tried to swerve around it, but the bike went straight through, and the engine choked and sputtered to a stop. They were coasting, and what was more, they were running straight into a dead end.

Aidan squeezed the brakes and pumped at the choke and starter switch, but the Harley only coughed anemically as, behind them, the smoke solidified into a tall, dark man in a black duster, walking toward them with a predatory lean.

[Tess Abrahams]

What the hell was -

Tess twisted to look back at the rolling pitch of cloud and her eyes grew wide as it shifted thickly, cycloning into a ghostly figure. It was like staring into the wall of an approaching tidal wave: the smoke man stalked forward with deliberate, shifting steps borrowed straight out of the old west but twice as menacing. It was a gait alive with such a calm intent that even Eastwood would have flinched. A cold shiver ran down the woman`s spine; whoever (whatever?) he was, he didn`t seem keen on introducing himself all civil-like.

Still the bike coughed and with their backs up against a hard place and a rock approaching, Tess cast her eyes about desperately.

"In there!" She slapped a hand against Aidan`s shoulder to get his attention and pointed beyond them to the right. A sagging factory building sat undisturbed, adorned with a faded sign only just legible reading Ballard Sheet Metal Works, Inc. The doors had once been chained tightly shut but someone had long since taken bolt-cutters to the thick links. They were held now by a single coil, hinged open like a broken jaw. If they could get inside and somehow use the chain to winch it closed again... well, it wouldn`t buy them much time, maybe, but at least they would be less like sitting ducks.

[Aidan Fox]

Aidan followed the line of Tess's frantic gesture with a mix of disbelief and aggravation. He knew from experience the broken-down factory wall wouldn't hold out the Smoke Man any more than a screen door--

And then he realized it didn't have to.

"Perfect. Come on!"

He moved with an urgency that didn't stop for questions, dragging Tess along with him at a dead run across what used to be VIP parking and up to the foundry doors. Aidan tugged on one handle sharply, enough to buy perhaps ten inches of clearance.

"Go on first, you're narrower than me."

[Tess Abrahams]

Ten inches was a lot of room for a body capable of compressing into a space the size of a flat-rate postage box. Tess wasted no time, she tore off her messenger bag and shoved it into the building. Resisting the instinct to check their six she slipped her head and shoulders through the ample gap, the rest of her sidestepping in after. <br /> <br /> Turning in the musty factory air, Tess reached out with the intention of bracing the door for Aidan. "Okay, come on," she urged, locking eyes with him through the doors, "give me your--"

[Aidan Fox]

As soon as she was clear, Aidan kicked the doors shut with a resonant crash. Then he braced them with one foot as he ran a white-hot burning hand down the seam, fusing them together.

[Tess Abrahams]

The shock of the reinforced metal slamming together caught her by surprise and Tess jerked back, half-expecting the impact to be followed by the doors being knocked off their hinges by the charging stranger. Because Aidan wouldn't trick her like that. He wouldn't shut her in here to take him on alone. And that hollow warping groan issuing from outside wasn't him welding the metal together to make sure it happened, the stupid bastard.

"Aidan!" Tess shouted, slamming against the broad plane of the doors. They rattled but didn't give and she beat upon them with her fists, furious and frustrated and with the sharp well of terror rising under her tongue. "Aidan, don't you dare... damn it!"

The factory had been designed during the eighties when industrial business was supposed to be truly dismal so that the unions had something to bitch about and workers came in and put their noses to the grindstone, tried to lose themselves in work just so that the comforts of home seemed luxurious by comparison. Consequently it was a dank place and probably had been even at the height of it's success, rows of pressbrakes shrouded in shadows where the light shining in from the narrow strips of filthy plated windows didn't reach.

Tess kicked at the doors one last time and then bolted across the dusty floor, feet sliding on old newspaper probably left by squatters. There was a window that faced the street and by climbing on top of an old temper mill below it, she was able to reach it. At first all Tess could see was a hazy blur. The hem of her shirt made a passable cloth and came away from the glass caked in grime but having done it's job: there was Aidan and there, bearing down with that straightforward purpose, was the Smoke Man.

[Aidan Fox]

Aidan stalked toward the stranger with a purpose to match, flexing his hands at his sides. Surreptitiously, he glanced at his surroundings. The cul-de-sac was mostly asphalt and concrete, not a lot of flammables to fuel his powers. And he didn't know what fueled the Smoke Man.

"Your contract," Aidan said. "It's for me, right? You don't need to go after anyone else."

The stranger only smiled and kept walking.

"Fine," Aidan said, "if that's how you want to play it. It's only fair to warn you. I'm not holding back this time."

Without a word, the Smoke Man lunged forward and burst into a billowing tide of black vapor. Aidan focused his power inward and combusted all the grease stained into his uniform - that was enough to shoot a column of blue flame in front of him and part the flood of smoke like a rock splitting a river. Then Aidan ran for his motorcycle.

The two jets of smoke spiraled aimlessly until they found each other and merged again, and the man partially materialized like a Stephen King nightmare on the wings of the toxic cloud, speeding toward Aidan to intercept him before he could start the Harley again. But Aidan wasn't interested in escaping.

Aidan tore off the gas cap and reached into the tank with a curling tongue of flame. The gasoline inside caught immediately, a white-hot sun of incandescence, which Aidan pulled out into the shimmering air and shaped between his hands as the Smoke Man hurtled toward him.

With a full-body motion like a judo throw, Aidan hurled burning orb, which bloomed into a massive azure fireball, and out of the edges of the rolling heat, winding like Chinese dragons, were dozens of vipers, cobras, and rattlesnakes rendered in flame. They reared up in a flourish of fangs and coils and then converged on the Smoke Man with a jet-engine roar.

The fireball dissolved into a swirl of greasy gasoline smoke, brown, not black. The Smoke Man was nowhere to be seen.

Aidan waited. The air still rang with gunfire between the Onces and the Bones, and the cul-de-sac was rank with the smell of burnt fuel, but all else was quiet. And then something sprinkled on the shoulders of his coveralls - tiny flecks of coal-black ash - and he heard a dry, rasping, slithering sound behind him.

Aidan turned to see swirling ropes of ash flowing together into a pile, which heaped up into the form of a man and stepped toward him.

"You've got to be kidding me!"

The Smoke Man hardened out of the ash, still trailing wisps of black dust caught on the beams of the dying sun, and drew his long, gleaming knife. Aidan backpedaled before him, sprouting a blade of sapphire flame from his own hand.

[Tess Abrahams]

It was a bit like watching a silent film. Aidan's mouth moved and his face was a dead mask of determined sincerity that screamed testimony to the writhing tension but from her vantage point in the old metal works manufacture, Tess couldn't make out what had passed between her friend and the sinister black figure.

She watched with mounting anxiety as the fray unfolded, wishing she could tear her eyes away because she didn't want to see it all go terribly wrong but unable to break free of the tractor-like hypnotism of the colliding storm of powers. Aidan's coiling flames were awe-inspiring, the sort of raw unleashing of ability that delved deep into the muscles of onlookers, transcending the visual realm because they were too vivid to be comprehended by sight alone.

Tess didn't realize she was holding her breath until the writhing ball of serpentine blue blaze engulfed the Smoke Man and stamped the air with oily residue. The swaying sensation that she'd thought was simply panic subsided as her lungs drew a deep gulp of relieved air. Aidan was there, alive.

"I'm going to kill him," Tess muttered, forehead falling against the grimy windowpane. "I am going to kill him until he is dead."

There had to be another way out of here. If not practical efficiency then at least the fire code demanded that much. Tess raised up, preparing to go scour the rear of the building for an exit. She didn't even make it an inch.

It wasn't over.

Aidan had already seen the reanimated predator and was retreating but Tess slapped her palms against the glass desperately anyway, shouting. "Aidan!"

Goddamn it. With a strangled curse, Tess vaulted from the high machinery and landed in a low crouch, feet barely brushing against the ground before she was tearing for the back of the factory, heart pounding and mind racing.

[Aidan Fox]

Through the rows of dingy factory windows, Aidan and the Smoke Man were a pair of dancing blurs, accented by flashes of blue phosphor and jets of black mist, chaotic and garish against the retreating shadows of the evening. As Tess ducked around a massive sheet roller, a black cloud burst against the factory wall, followed by a snapping whip of flame that caused several windowpanes to explode like fireworks. The battle raged on, a clash of two unstoppable forces, until the back wall of the factory intervened and cut off Tess's view entirely, just as she spied the outline of a long-defunct exit sign over a rusted door.

And then there was a roar like a passing train, or of a bomb in the old grainy video footage of nuclear tests, and a wash of blue light cascaded through the windows like a nearby lightning strike throwing the entire factory into sharp relief. Then the alley outside fell quiet.

Until a body bumped heavily against the door.

[Tess Abrahams]

The duel mounted at a fever pitch, escalating with vicious snaps of sound that reverberated in the air and drowned out the surrounding chorus of urban violence. Showers of glass cascaded into the bowels of the factory and rained down upon neglected machinery in hungrily glinting swarms, their collective tinkling harsh and discordant against steel and it was like the worst approximation of a gale force storm that could be born of one-on-one combat, absent of cheap manufactured weaponry and thus driven to new and harrowing heights.

The heavy thunk that punctuated the noise of the battle outside bore a finality to it that made Tess's blood run cold as her feet burned across the concrete floor at top speed. It wasn't a pause, it was a period - a full stop that dragged smothering silence with it. She wanted desperately to entertain the notion that the Smoke Man lay on the other side of the rear exit, somehow forced into a solid corporeal reality by the sheer intensity of the combat. But a cruel, logical whisper in her ear wouldn't allow it; the impact had been far too dense to issue forth from mere ash.

As she reached the back, it occurred to Tess that if this was a trap she was literally running right into it. The thought didn't even make a dent in her determined rush. There were chains threaded through the hinged-bar doors here, too, but they were rusted and looked as tired and ill-treated as the rest of the place. She needed something to attack with - there, a length of riveted copper rod, some internal mechanical organ. Tess hefted it in her hands and raised it above her head, bringing it down on the chains like she were impaling a disgraced warrior. There was a mighty rattle and then she brought it down again, and then again. Finally the links cracked and with one last hammer they broke apart, snapping as a spinal cord.

Tess still gripped the rod in her hand as she pressed open the door with her shoulder, something on the other side of it offering resistance. She squeezed through and when her frame was clear the door snapped shut, Aidan pressed up against it. The Smoke Man was nowhere to be seen but the air smelled of ozone and carbon, the clearing-away scent of a dissipating thunderstorm.

"Are you okay?!" Tess was almost shouting, edges of her voice starting to fray. The pipe clattered to the ground and she braced her palms on either side of Aidan's face because she needed to see his eyes and because she couldn't stand the way her hands were suddenly shaking. "Where did he go? Shit, shit. Look at me, are you hurt?"

[Aidan Fox]

Aidan's breathing was rapid and deep, like an athlete that had just finished a race, and his face was pale. All around them, the alley and the two junked cars sitting in it were coated in a crust of white ash, and against the far brick wall two dumpsters that had been crammed full of cardboard and paper products smoldered with muttering flames.

"He's gone," Aidan said between gasps for air. "I don't think he's coming back soon."

He tried to straighten up, only to seize partway with a grunt and a twisted mask of pain. His right hand was balled into a fist and pressed hard against his uniform just under the left side of his ribcage, where a dark stain slowly crept through the fabric.

"He got me with his knife."

[Tess Abrahams]

A stilted beat passed.

"Let me see," Tess said lowly. Her hands dropped from AIdan`s face to the zipper of his coveralls. The teeth snicked as the cloth unfurled to reveal the undershirt beneath, white cotton marred with sweat and oil and now, blossoming deep and dark, blood. Aidan`s fist was pulled away and Tess caught a glimpse of an ugly, ragged-edged gaping hole before he sucked in a breath and blood bubbled forth in a sick well.

"This is what happens when you`re not a team player." Tess said. She pressed her hand against the slippery flow and applied pressure, heart racing now for a new reason entirely. "It`s... it`s not so bad. You`re going to be okay, we`re gonna call an ambulance and... and you`re going to be just fine."

[Aidan Fox]

"I think there are a lot of emergency calls coming out of this neighborhood right now."

With a gritting effort, he managed to get on his feet in spite of Tess's protests, swaying only just a little. "It's not that deep. As long as I keep it under pressure, it'll be fine. We need to get out of here before--"

A revving engine a few streets over grabbed his attention, and he shot a haunted glance down the alleyway, but whoever it was wasn't coming for them. Yet.

[Tess Abrahams]

"How far do you think you`re going to get like this?" Tess countered fiercely. Aidan was far too pale to pull off the amount of stoicism he was going for. "Damn it Aidan, you need to go to the hospital, soon."

[Aidan Fox]

"I'm not too crazy about getting myself registered, okay?" Aidan gritted back. "Look, there's... there's an emergency clinic on Pierce Street, that's only a few blocks away. I can get there."

The rate of gunfire had abated, but there was a reason for that - sirens howled in the distance, and they were converging on West Adams, but they weren't ambulances. All things being equal, Aidan preferred to avoid their attention, too.

"Come on, let's get moving. All we have to do is--"

He heard the engine again - this one wasn't accompanied by a siren, and it was echoing all the way down the cul-de-sac. He heard it skip out of the big pothole he'd swerved around on the way in.

"Back into the factory! Come on!"

[Tess Abrahams]

The mean growl bounced behind them as they ducked through the rear doors. Aidan`s earlier precautions ensured that there was only one entrance point which offered an advantage - but unfortunately, with the Harley outside and the wreckage of the surrounding lot adding to the welded advertisement, it wasn`t hard to discern where they`d gone.

Tess had an arm around Aidan`s back, providing leverage so she could maintain pressure on his stabwound as they skittered across the factory floor. Her hands were covered in his blood and it dripped with every new movement, leaving a dusty trail of marks behind them. He was right - the hospital wasn`t an option, not for them, not when it came with a slew of caveats.

"You won`t make it to Pierce," she ground out as she tugged him toward a looming mechanical skeleton, a shield from which they would still be able to keep a line of sight on the exit. "Not now."

Beneath the wail of sirens and drawing closer was the sound of gravel crunching underfoot.

Tess pulled Aidan down until he was sitting with his back against rusted metal and lifted his shirt, mouth suddenly dry. "Do you trust me?"

[Aidan Fox]

Now that the adrenalin high was fading, Aidan felt muzzy and light-headed, which he recognized as the first tremors of shock. Funny what a few inches of sharp steel under your ribs could do.

"What, you packed some pressure bandages? Needle and thread?"

[Tess Abrahams]

"Something like that. Hold still, okay? You're gonna be fine."

As she said it Tess realized it was true. It was true because it needed to be true, because this wasn't how it was going to end. Not in some shitty, abandoned steel mill that reeked of dead hope and broken surrender. Not with Aidan making half-aware cracks that weren't really funny at all given the context.

With the saturated cotton out of the way, Tess could see now the spluttering mouth of the wound and she lay both her palms over it and closed her eyes, notrils flaring as she took a deep breath. It was there, a rushing symphony of thrumming life right beneath her fingertips and this time she didn't try and hold it back. The sensation rushed over Tess as a tidepool and a coastline, a swirling eddy of awareness that frothed and foamed higher with each passing second. Aidan's heart beat over hers, a heavy bassline, and his lungs were her lungs and she could taste the iron-sharp tang in his mouth and feel the chill whispering across his skin as intimately as though they were one and the same.

With a slow breath she opened her eyes in the rushing mass and it was to a cellular storm, tiny glowing motes that clung in humming congregations and together formed a dim outline of a human male. This was Aidan, laid bare in a way that no hospital could ever replicate, the bone-deep all of him.

Concentrating, Tess sifted through the dusty particles, ignoring the way they sang against her skin. There... a gaping black hole vacuuming up the surrounding blueprint where there should have been a buzzing cloud. Shaking she grabbed hold of the edges. It was like grasping a stiff breeze and for a moment the tug threatened to carry her away but then Tess pulled back, felt her footing regain inch by desperate inch until she was upright again and then she began to knit together the chaotic whirlpool in earnest.

Years passed, or so it seemed, before she drew away from the pulsing incarnation with a roaring sound between her ears. As her hands dropped from Aidan's chest - the bleeding slowed to a slow trickle - Tess heaved once and then drew a sharp breath.

The woman swayed for a moment, panting, and then opened her eyes. "Oink... was eas-easier."

[Aidan Fox]

It was a difficult feeling to put into words. You had to describe the feelings around the feeling to make any sense of it. Shock. Fear. Nakedness.

And trust. There was trust. But that was a decision, not a feeling.

Aidan felt the factory recede, and all the distances beyond arm's reach faded away. He didn't know how much of that was Tess and how much was his own blood loss. But Tess was there, undoubtedly. He felt her all around him, in his skin and in his bones, and he felt the sympathetic vibrations between them, like a buzzing in his very cells, and he understood the fear, the reflex to reject the foreign entity, to break off the connection while the boundary between them was blurred.

He was open to her, more open than he'd ever been to another human being - after years of guarding every word and action, now he was completely disarmed. And in an odd sort of way, it was a relief.

Aidan didn't know how much time had passed when the humming faded and the factory walls slowly shifted back into focus. But he knew Tess had been there the whole time, and she was still there, shaking, her brown eyes unsteady with exhaustion, and just when it looked as though she might tip over, he reached up and braced her shoulder, and then he realized his strength had returned.

"Tess," he whispered. And then he found all other words deserting him.

[Tess Abrahams]

His absence was a sharp contrast, the leeching recession of a flash flood that left everything hobbled and undone in it`s wake. Tess shivered and rested her forehead against Aidan`s, feeling the fading echo of his heartbeat ripple in the scant space between them.

"Don`t ever do that again," Tess breathed. Her throat was aching, the nearness of his accident registering with a swift kick.

Aidan. You fool, you could have...

When she kissed him it was a frantic, hungry thing, a confirmation that he was here and alive. Tess pulled away, blinking back bright tears. "Never again, Aidan Fox, you got that?"

[Aidan Fox]

It came as an epiphany, the discovery of something so familiar you felt you should have recognized it all along, and yet here it was, new and fresh and fragile and triumphant. Then Aidan's hand was in her hair, and he was pulling her close to him again to see if he could discover it again.

When they parted, both were breathing deeply, and the air was full of each other. "I'll do my best," he said, earnestly.

A parade of sirens wailed in the cul-de-sac outside, and there was a scramble of frantic feet and a muffled shout of "Police! Freeze!"

Aidan combed his fingers lightly through Tess's hair as a cop went to work on the back door where they'd forced their way in. "I think," he said, "we'd better pick this up later."

[Tess Abrahams]

48 Hours Later

With a gentle touch, Tess replaced the gauze over the healing knife wound, careful not to press the tape too firmly against Aidan`s bruised chest. Her hands slid down his exposed stomach and his muscles twitched at the soft brush of fingertips over skin. Slipping beneath the waistline of his broken-in jeans, Tess coyly tugged Aidan closer.

"It doesn`t look like it`s getting infected at least," she said, pulling him along as she got off the couch. A mixture of fond exasperation and coy delight swept over her features. "But we should probably change the bandage and then..."

It felt so natural to embrace him now, an instinctive slotting together that wasn`t shy or afraid. Tess kissed a line along his jaw, whispering in his ear despite the quiet emptiness of the house, "As your attending physician, I have to insist you get off your feet for awhile."

[Aidan Fox]

Aidan looped an arm around the narrow part of her waist, drawing her close against him. "Well, who am I to argue with medical science?"

With an impudent grin she pulled away and tugged on his arm toward the stairs to make those new discoveries all over again.