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Zebediah Slade
For the first few months after we’d started seeing each other, I had barely been aware that Anne actually knew anyone outside of her work. I mean, I knew she had family— she’d related a couple stories to me— but I’d never seen any of them and, from what she’d told me, they all lived way up north in places like Chicago, Detroit, and Toledo. She didn’t see them often, on account of the distance, and most of her contact with them was through social media, a communications form that I’d never become comfortable with.
I was marginally more aware of her friends, but even they seemed remarkably ephemeral. She’d mentioned Alessia, I vaguely remembered, but in the context of the woman being her doctor. Other people she knew seemed, mostly, to be in the context of her job; she knew Sergeant Rodriguez and Captain Jefferson, for instance, as she’d worked dispatch with the police department before going into the private sector, and had maintained cordial relations with both of them since her retirement. From what I understood, she had similar friendly-but-not-close acquaintances in several branches of military service, including grunts and ground-pounders, squids, and, especially, marines.
In any case, I tried to avoid preconceptions about the people I was about to meet. I tried, and I was utterly unsuccessful.
In my defense, there really wasn’t any reason to connect my Anne’s Alessia with the woman who’d been in the news so often over the past year, and it wasn’t like I was running a background check on her prior to our date. I had a not-too unreasonable expectation of meeting a woman in her middle-years, probably petite and a little on the plump side, as most women doctors tend to be for some reason.
We met Alessia and James at the Easy Street Restaurant and Brewery, and I realized just how mistaken I’d been. Alessia stood a few inches taller than her date even before she put on heels; in addition, she had the sort of physique I associated with hardcore athletes and crossfit enthusiasts, making her shoulders considerably wider than the slender man who accompanied her.
I felt my tongue go dry and I was, unexpectedly, at a complete loss for words. Fortunately, James came to my rescue.
“You must be Zed,” he said, reaching out to take me by the hand, “it’s good to meet you at last. I’m James, and this is Alessia. We’ve heard so much about you.”
I blinked. The ginger boy certainly didn’t lack for confidence… “Uh, yeah. Likewise,” I managed after a very brief pause, “the good ta meet ya, part, I mean. I don’t think I know near as much about either of you-all.”
James grinned. “Well, that’s a nice switch, then; usually, everyone knows all about us and we’re the ones left playing catch-up.”
His accent, smooth and slightly upper-crust, triggered an association. “Wait a minute… are you Dr. Harkness?”
“The very same,” he admitted, dipping his chin in acknowledgement.
I looked back at the woman again. “And that’d make you Dr. Troisi, am I right?”
She smiled and nodded, and I almost forgot what I was saying. To describe her as mesmerizing would be selling her short.
Anne stepped in before I could say something truly idiotic. “Hey, guys, why don’t we move this to a table?” she suggested, and we followed her to a booth near the dance floor.
The noise level was beginning to pick up, and my audio dampeners kicked in to step down the background noise, but I began to wonder how everyone else was going to manage to hear each other.
A mouse of a girl stopped by our table to ask what we wanted. James smiled at her, apparently setting her at ease, and ordered wings. When she asked what we wanted to drink, Anne and James both ordered beers, a weissbier for Anne while James got something in the stout family, and Alessia and I both ordered soft drinks.
*****
James Harkness
I did not lack for much growing up; my parents, being distantly related to the queen, had position, wealth, and power, and were not at all opposed to using their advantages and influence to benefit their only son. Despite being of only average height and a somewhat less than intimidating physique, I never felt that I lacked the tools and disposition to assert myself in virtually any situation. So it was that I, at a little under six feet and surrounded by specimens who all appeared to be in the prime of health, could maintain my smug composure: after all, one of those specimens, and arguably the most beautiful woman in the world, had consented to be my Valentine…
I grinned as the band took the stage and hauled on Alessia’s arm, pulling her to her feet and dragging her to the small open space that’d been cleared for a makeshift dance floor. The opener was nothing special— some cover band that called themselves Shaman’s Tears and added some nice tribal touches to popular eighties and nineties hairband ballades— but Friendly Fire, who was playing and donating their share of the proceeds to cancer research, was easily among the best bands in the city.
We danced until I was spent; Alessia worked up a pretty decent sweat, swinging me around her, but I was pretty sure she could have gone another hour, no problem. As the band segued into a slower, softer number, Alessia gave me the lead and leaned in close.
“What do you think of ‘em?” she asked, pointing her chin towards our companions.
“They seem cute enough,” I allowed, “although I think they’ve got the height differential exactly backwards.”
“Huh?”
It must have been a long couple days, I reflected; I watched as comprehension dawned and Alessia grinned, then gave me a playful slug on the arm.
“Dork,” she said.
I rubbed where she’d hit me and grinned. I’d seen her split a heavy bag with her punches, but she never left so much as a red mark on me when we were playing.
“Seriously, though; I don’t know the fellow very well; I’ve read about him in the press and his affect seems to match his published persona. Assuming that’s true, I suspect Anne could do much worse.”
“She’s been pretty much a shut-in for as long as I’ve known her; she deserves a little fun.”
*****
Anne Friedland
I watched as Alessia spun James around the floor; they seemed enviably at ease with the reversal of traditional gender roles, which was probably a good thing since Alessia had to have a good fifty or more pounds of skeletal muscle than the lanky anthropologist.
I could understand what she saw in him, though. I’d read some of his findings and seen the testimony from a variety of top-notch minds and it was pretty clear the man was every bit as gifted as advertised. His charm and social grace had to be a combination of natural talent, good upbringing, and constant practice; it was something both Zed and I struggled with, for a variety of reasons.
“Anne, there’s a disturbance outside the Red Deuce in Poussin Row; reports are still garbled, but it sounds like the Hallmark Hero may be making an appearance. Should I…?”
I gave a subtle shake of my head, first left, then right, then back to center. Zed might wonder what it was about, but he was far too much of a gentleman to actually say anything; Minnie, on the other hand, would have no doubt, given the sensitivity of the GPS tracking in my microbud coupled with the omnipresent surveillance.
“Understood. Local authorities appear to be en route, in any case.”
I was prepared to excuse myself so that I could sneak off to the ladies’ room and attempt a little more direct control, but then I noticed Zed’s head was also lowered and he seemed to be subvocalizing.
I raised my eyebrows.
He coughed politely. “Sorry; got a dust-up down the way. Oskar and Donny are lookin’ into it.”
“Subdermal throat mic?” I asked.
He nodded. “And a cybernetic aural enhancement. I can pick up radio signals, among other things.”
I blinked, somewhat nonplussed. “Any signals?”
He shook his head. “Naw. They’d have to be on the right freq for me to pick ‘em out of the air. Your conversations are still private.”
“I’m… not so great at keeping secrets, am I?”
“You have a tell,” he admitted, “but I doubt most people would notice it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugged. “I figured you’d tell me when you felt like it; we’ve got time and you seem like the type that could get skittish if you get spooked.”
I chewed that over a little.
“Yeah,” I decided, “that’s fair.”
“So… I ain’t pushing, but…”
I smiled. “Maybe someday, but not yet. It’s not my secret— it’s not only my secret— to tell.”
He leaned back in his chair. “I can live with that.”
I cleared my throat. “So… the downtown dust-up; do you have to deal with it?”
“Not this time; sounds like Donny and Oskar have it well in hand. I’ma leave them to it.”
*****
Alessia Troisi
I had to hand it to James; he spotted that Anne and Zed needed a little space even before I did. Either that, or he really just wanted to cut a rug with me; I’m not entirely certain.
In any case, I noticed the increased radio activity and saw both Anne and Zed responding to their separate conversations. I considered listening in, but decided that I was having enough fun with my own date that I didn’t need to be nosy.
I smiled at James as we finished our mandatory slow dance, then he led me back toward our table.
Our timid waitress had managed to get to our table while we were dancing, and a huge plate of wings along with various dipping sauces had been neatly arranged for us to enjoy; if my palette had been a little less sensitive, I might have risen to the occasion, but, as it was, I contented myself with chewing on some celery while the male contingent did valiant combat with Anne for the title of most anaesthetized taste buds.
As James sat down, Anne caught my eye.
“‘Scuse us a second, guys,” I chirped, “I need to find the bathroom. Coming, Anne?”
Anne smiled at her date and I led her into the restroom; fortunately, the club owners apparently cared about how this room reflected on the rest of their establishment. The tile was clean, the stainless steel fixtures were in good repair, and the various bodily odors were sufficiently masked so as to not be nauseating to me or any naturally scented humans in the room.
“Okay, so… spill, sweetheart, what’s the what?”
“Um… I like him a lot…”
“And?”
“And I think I wanna tell him about, well, you know…”
I rolled my eyes. “And what’s stopping you?”
“Well, he’s a cop.”
I waited.
“What we do isn’t totally legal, you know.”
I laughed. “I’m pretty sure that Minnie can make what you do legal enough for any court, if it comes to that, and I wouldn’t worry too much about me.”
“Wait— you know about Minnie?”
“You’re getting off-subject, Anne. The point is, you don’t need to hold back on my account.”
“Okay, okay,” she said, “I’ll think about it. What about you and James?”
It was my turn to look surprised, I guess. “What about us?”
“How long do you plan on keeping him in the dark? He’s not dumb, you know.”
I smiled. “No, he’s not. Honestly, I think it’s more of a little game between us, and we’re both enjoying the chase.”
She laughed. “Who’s chasing whom?”
“...I’ll have to get back to you on that.”
*****
James Harkness
“Everything okay with Anne?”
We were on our way back to my flat; Alessia had stretched out her long, long legs and was leaning back in her seat, making it singularly difficult for me to focus on driving, especially as I had to keep reminding myself to drive on the wrong side of the bloody road.
She sighed, nearly making me drive into oncoming traffic. “I think so… at least, it will be.”
“Uh-huh. Wanna talk about it?”
She didn’t say anything for a little while and I didn’t press her. Sometimes when Alessia was chewing things over, I just had to give her time to work them out.
“James,” she said at length, “I…”
“You’ve been keeping a secret, and, for one reason or another, you haven’t felt comfortable telling me.”
“Um… yeah.”
“I figured as much. It’s not stopped me before now, right?”
We pulled up to a stoplight and I glanced over at her. The corner of her mouth was tilted and the streetlights through the window made her half-smile slightly ghostly.
“I suppose not. Still, it’s a big one and…”
“You’re scared,” I realized. I don’t think I’d ever seen her scared before.
She nodded.
“You don’t have to tell me, you know.”
“You’d figure it out, eventually. You’re pretty smart.”
I chuckled. “Thanks for noticing.”
“And, anyways, it’s not fair to keep it a secret. Not if we’re serious.” She took a deep breath. “James, there’s something I need to tell you about…”

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************

Well... this one went sideways on me!

Not a traditional plot structure, and I still have a couple misgivings about what this bodes for the future, but...

Zed, Network, Tyche, and James Harkness are the creation and property of and can only be used with permission.

They are currently exploring the mysteries of superheroes, vigilantes, and romance in the or

In case you somehow missed it, Part 01 can be found here:

Also, in case it was somehow unclear, the pictures for this story do not directly relate to the story except in the manner that cover art for novels relates to the words inside, which is to say, "tenuously."

Description

Zebediah Slade
For the first few months after we’d started seeing each other, I had barely been aware that Anne actually knew anyone outside of her work. I mean, I knew she had family— she’d related a couple stories to me— but I’d never seen any of them and, from what she’d told me, they all lived way up north in places like Chicago, Detroit, and Toledo. She didn’t see them often, on account of the distance, and most of her contact with them was through social media, a communications form that I’d never become comfortable with.
I was marginally more aware of her friends, but even they seemed remarkably ephemeral. She’d mentioned Alessia, I vaguely remembered, but in the context of the woman being her doctor. Other people she knew seemed, mostly, to be in the context of her job; she knew Sergeant Rodriguez and Captain Jefferson, for instance, as she’d worked dispatch with the police department before going into the private sector, and had maintained cordial relations with both of them since her retirement. From what I understood, she had similar friendly-but-not-close acquaintances in several branches of military service, including grunts and ground-pounders, squids, and, especially, marines.
In any case, I tried to avoid preconceptions about the people I was about to meet. I tried, and I was utterly unsuccessful.
In my defense, there really wasn’t any reason to connect my Anne’s Alessia with the woman who’d been in the news so often over the past year, and it wasn’t like I was running a background check on her prior to our date. I had a not-too unreasonable expectation of meeting a woman in her middle-years, probably petite and a little on the plump side, as most women doctors tend to be for some reason.
We met Alessia and James at the Easy Street Restaurant and Brewery, and I realized just how mistaken I’d been. Alessia stood a few inches taller than her date even before she put on heels; in addition, she had the sort of physique I associated with hardcore athletes and crossfit enthusiasts, making her shoulders considerably wider than the slender man who accompanied her.
I felt my tongue go dry and I was, unexpectedly, at a complete loss for words. Fortunately, James came to my rescue.
“You must be Zed,” he said, reaching out to take me by the hand, “it’s good to meet you at last. I’m James, and this is Alessia. We’ve heard so much about you.”
I blinked. The ginger boy certainly didn’t lack for confidence… “Uh, yeah. Likewise,” I managed after a very brief pause, “the good ta meet ya, part, I mean. I don’t think I know near as much about either of you-all.”
James grinned. “Well, that’s a nice switch, then; usually, everyone knows all about us and we’re the ones left playing catch-up.”
His accent, smooth and slightly upper-crust, triggered an association. “Wait a minute… are you Dr. Harkness?”
“The very same,” he admitted, dipping his chin in acknowledgement.
I looked back at the woman again. “And that’d make you Dr. Troisi, am I right?”
She smiled and nodded, and I almost forgot what I was saying. To describe her as mesmerizing would be selling her short.
Anne stepped in before I could say something truly idiotic. “Hey, guys, why don’t we move this to a table?” she suggested, and we followed her to a booth near the dance floor.
The noise level was beginning to pick up, and my audio dampeners kicked in to step down the background noise, but I began to wonder how everyone else was going to manage to hear each other.
A mouse of a girl stopped by our table to ask what we wanted. James smiled at her, apparently setting her at ease, and ordered wings. When she asked what we wanted to drink, Anne and James both ordered beers, a weissbier for Anne while James got something in the stout family, and Alessia and I both ordered soft drinks.
*****
James Harkness
I did not lack for much growing up; my parents, being distantly related to the queen, had position, wealth, and power, and were not at all opposed to using their advantages and influence to benefit their only son. Despite being of only average height and a somewhat less than intimidating physique, I never felt that I lacked the tools and disposition to assert myself in virtually any situation. So it was that I, at a little under six feet and surrounded by specimens who all appeared to be in the prime of health, could maintain my smug composure: after all, one of those specimens, and arguably the most beautiful woman in the world, had consented to be my Valentine…
I grinned as the band took the stage and hauled on Alessia’s arm, pulling her to her feet and dragging her to the small open space that’d been cleared for a makeshift dance floor. The opener was nothing special— some cover band that called themselves Shaman’s Tears and added some nice tribal touches to popular eighties and nineties hairband ballades— but Friendly Fire, who was playing and donating their share of the proceeds to cancer research, was easily among the best bands in the city.
We danced until I was spent; Alessia worked up a pretty decent sweat, swinging me around her, but I was pretty sure she could have gone another hour, no problem. As the band segued into a slower, softer number, Alessia gave me the lead and leaned in close.
“What do you think of ‘em?” she asked, pointing her chin towards our companions.
“They seem cute enough,” I allowed, “although I think they’ve got the height differential exactly backwards.”
“Huh?”
It must have been a long couple days, I reflected; I watched as comprehension dawned and Alessia grinned, then gave me a playful slug on the arm.
“Dork,” she said.
I rubbed where she’d hit me and grinned. I’d seen her split a heavy bag with her punches, but she never left so much as a red mark on me when we were playing.
“Seriously, though; I don’t know the fellow very well; I’ve read about him in the press and his affect seems to match his published persona. Assuming that’s true, I suspect Anne could do much worse.”
“She’s been pretty much a shut-in for as long as I’ve known her; she deserves a little fun.”
*****
Anne Friedland
I watched as Alessia spun James around the floor; they seemed enviably at ease with the reversal of traditional gender roles, which was probably a good thing since Alessia had to have a good fifty or more pounds of skeletal muscle than the lanky anthropologist.
I could understand what she saw in him, though. I’d read some of his findings and seen the testimony from a variety of top-notch minds and it was pretty clear the man was every bit as gifted as advertised. His charm and social grace had to be a combination of natural talent, good upbringing, and constant practice; it was something both Zed and I struggled with, for a variety of reasons.
“Anne, there’s a disturbance outside the Red Deuce in Poussin Row; reports are still garbled, but it sounds like the Hallmark Hero may be making an appearance. Should I…?”
I gave a subtle shake of my head, first left, then right, then back to center. Zed might wonder what it was about, but he was far too much of a gentleman to actually say anything; Minnie, on the other hand, would have no doubt, given the sensitivity of the GPS tracking in my microbud coupled with the omnipresent surveillance.
“Understood. Local authorities appear to be en route, in any case.”
I was prepared to excuse myself so that I could sneak off to the ladies’ room and attempt a little more direct control, but then I noticed Zed’s head was also lowered and he seemed to be subvocalizing.
I raised my eyebrows.
He coughed politely. “Sorry; got a dust-up down the way. Oskar and Donny are lookin’ into it.”
“Subdermal throat mic?” I asked.
He nodded. “And a cybernetic aural enhancement. I can pick up radio signals, among other things.”
I blinked, somewhat nonplussed. “Any signals?”
He shook his head. “Naw. They’d have to be on the right freq for me to pick ‘em out of the air. Your conversations are still private.”
“I’m… not so great at keeping secrets, am I?”
“You have a tell,” he admitted, “but I doubt most people would notice it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugged. “I figured you’d tell me when you felt like it; we’ve got time and you seem like the type that could get skittish if you get spooked.”
I chewed that over a little.
“Yeah,” I decided, “that’s fair.”
“So… I ain’t pushing, but…”
I smiled. “Maybe someday, but not yet. It’s not my secret— it’s not only my secret— to tell.”
He leaned back in his chair. “I can live with that.”
I cleared my throat. “So… the downtown dust-up; do you have to deal with it?”
“Not this time; sounds like Donny and Oskar have it well in hand. I’ma leave them to it.”
*****
Alessia Troisi
I had to hand it to James; he spotted that Anne and Zed needed a little space even before I did. Either that, or he really just wanted to cut a rug with me; I’m not entirely certain.
In any case, I noticed the increased radio activity and saw both Anne and Zed responding to their separate conversations. I considered listening in, but decided that I was having enough fun with my own date that I didn’t need to be nosy.
I smiled at James as we finished our mandatory slow dance, then he led me back toward our table.
Our timid waitress had managed to get to our table while we were dancing, and a huge plate of wings along with various dipping sauces had been neatly arranged for us to enjoy; if my palette had been a little less sensitive, I might have risen to the occasion, but, as it was, I contented myself with chewing on some celery while the male contingent did valiant combat with Anne for the title of most anaesthetized taste buds.
As James sat down, Anne caught my eye.
“‘Scuse us a second, guys,” I chirped, “I need to find the bathroom. Coming, Anne?”
Anne smiled at her date and I led her into the restroom; fortunately, the club owners apparently cared about how this room reflected on the rest of their establishment. The tile was clean, the stainless steel fixtures were in good repair, and the various bodily odors were sufficiently masked so as to not be nauseating to me or any naturally scented humans in the room.
“Okay, so… spill, sweetheart, what’s the what?”
“Um… I like him a lot…”
“And?”
“And I think I wanna tell him about, well, you know…”
I rolled my eyes. “And what’s stopping you?”
“Well, he’s a cop.”
I waited.
“What we do isn’t totally legal, you know.”
I laughed. “I’m pretty sure that Minnie can make what you do legal enough for any court, if it comes to that, and I wouldn’t worry too much about me.”
“Wait— you know about Minnie?”
“You’re getting off-subject, Anne. The point is, you don’t need to hold back on my account.”
“Okay, okay,” she said, “I’ll think about it. What about you and James?”
It was my turn to look surprised, I guess. “What about us?”
“How long do you plan on keeping him in the dark? He’s not dumb, you know.”
I smiled. “No, he’s not. Honestly, I think it’s more of a little game between us, and we’re both enjoying the chase.”
She laughed. “Who’s chasing whom?”
“...I’ll have to get back to you on that.”
*****
James Harkness
“Everything okay with Anne?”
We were on our way back to my flat; Alessia had stretched out her long, long legs and was leaning back in her seat, making it singularly difficult for me to focus on driving, especially as I had to keep reminding myself to drive on the wrong side of the bloody road.
She sighed, nearly making me drive into oncoming traffic. “I think so… at least, it will be.”
“Uh-huh. Wanna talk about it?”
She didn’t say anything for a little while and I didn’t press her. Sometimes when Alessia was chewing things over, I just had to give her time to work them out.
“James,” she said at length, “I…”
“You’ve been keeping a secret, and, for one reason or another, you haven’t felt comfortable telling me.”
“Um… yeah.”
“I figured as much. It’s not stopped me before now, right?”
We pulled up to a stoplight and I glanced over at her. The corner of her mouth was tilted and the streetlights through the window made her half-smile slightly ghostly.
“I suppose not. Still, it’s a big one and…”
“You’re scared,” I realized. I don’t think I’d ever seen her scared before.
She nodded.
“You don’t have to tell me, you know.”
“You’d figure it out, eventually. You’re pretty smart.”
I chuckled. “Thanks for noticing.”
“And, anyways, it’s not fair to keep it a secret. Not if we’re serious.” She took a deep breath. “James, there’s something I need to tell you about…”

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************

Well... this one went sideways on me!

Not a traditional plot structure, and I still have a couple misgivings about what this bodes for the future, but...

Zed, Network, Tyche, and James Harkness are the creation and property of and can only be used with permission.

They are currently exploring the mysteries of superheroes, vigilantes, and romance in the or

In case you somehow missed it, Part 01 can be found here:

Also, in case it was somehow unclear, the pictures for this story do not directly relate to the story except in the manner that cover art for novels relates to the words inside, which is to say, "tenuously."