With Sophia, it felt like she was going backwards. Like she had gotten the Tamer part down and was working towards learning who the girl was before she became a walking ball of fur and fury. Maybe it was the parahuman part of the equation or trauma of being all but disowned by her mother, but Sophia was just not opening up.

"I only do the avenging angel thing when it's important! I like being fluff and sunshine! I honestly don't get why you have to be so prickily all the time. Enjoy the good parts of life then mercilessly eradicate the things that threaten your happiness. Isn't that what everyone wants?"

"...Every time I think I'm about to write you off as a useless feather brain, you say something that involves 'merciless eradication' or 'complete annihilation' and I suddenly remember why I let you be the Alpha."

"First, you are so weird. Second, you don't let me be anything. I'm the Alpha because you like it when I push you down and Tame you."

Sophia smiled wickedly. "Oh, there is nothing 'tame' about you when you finally bare those teeth, Feathers."

Taylor blushed but remained resolute. "Am I going to have to... Press the issue?"

"Not with your baby brother sleeping down the hall you aren't." Emma interjected. "Also, shut up. Taylor, no one is going to force Sophia to do anything, much less join the Wards." Taylor sputtered in protest, but Emma powered through. "Sophia, stop pushing Taylor's buttons. I know that you know how Angels get when it comes to opinions on working outside the law. If you don't stop needling her, I'm going to ask Annette to help you with evasion training. Without your powers."

Sophia paled as she remembered the last time she had pushed Emma when she had made that threat. Sophia had scoffed at the idea of being scared of the paraplegic Archangel. Then came the millions of tiny beams of light. The painful, painful beams of light.

"Sorry, Emma."

"Sorry, Red."

"Damn straight. Now, let's get some dinner."

With the argument quelled, or more likely postponed, Emma got up and headed to the kitchen to begin the arduous task of making a meal for a carnivore and an herbivore.

* * *

"Do you think the girls are getting along?" Danny asked his wife.

"Are two girls in the same harem who are genetically predisposed to having vastly conflicting world views 'getting along'?" Annette asked back. Her husband paused for a moment.

"Ok, better question: Do you think they've set anything on fire?"

"I'm sure everything's fine. Now shut up and watch the previews."

Danny sighed and tried to give the trailer his attention but a million little things nagged him. He couldn't help it, he was a worrier by nature. True, they were fine on money, the settlement from the company who's truck hit Annette saw to that. And his lovely wife had pulled through with grace and perseverance. But there was so much about his life that he never could have imagined before it happened.

His daughter was in a harem, for God's sake. Would his son end up the same way? Emma was a metaphorical angel to his Taylor's literal variety but what were the chances that Nathaniel would find such a perfect match? And if you had told him 20 years ago that he would be all but adopting a troubled cat girl from the mean side of town...

"You've got that look." Annette said, throwing off his train of thought.

"No I don't." He instantly replied. "Which look?"

"The one where you think yourself in circles and wind up with a new ulcer."

"I'm not..." Danny sighed. "It's just, how did life get so crazy?" Annette smiled and kissed him deeply. When they broke the kiss, Annette replied.

"Does it matter? If it was Scion showing up or Sukebe's mercy or the first microbe in the primordial soup, life has always been strange and exciting. Always will be." She kissed him again. 19 years of marriage and she could still light that fire in him with a few words and a kiss.

His hand circled behind her neck to pull her closer. Her hand came down on his thigh and suddenly he was 21 again, making out with his girlfriend in the back of a dark theater. Annette seemed to feel the same as she levitated herself onto his lap from her chair.

Danny's hands roamed over his wife's impossibly perfect body. Full curves and well defined muscles despite more than a year paralyzed. His hands slipped under her blouse to grope her gravity defying breasts. She moaned appretatively against his mouth and pushed harder against him. She reached down to unzip his jeans and pulled his member out. She pushed aside her panties, lined herself up and slowly let herself down.

His breath was hot and heavy as he started bucking upwards, hitting all the spots that drove her wild. The build up was intense and fast. Years of experience allowed both to send the other over the edge like over eager teens.

Which turned out to be a lucky thing as a pimple faced teenager shone a flashlight on them a moment later.

"Um, excuse me, but, um, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to, y'know, leave. We, uh, don't allow... This."

* * *

"Alright, we'll go to Wal-Mart and pretend to shop for a couple hours then we go home and tell the kids that the movie was fine. They will never, ever know otherwise."

Renegade for Life

(Автор: Helpless Kitten)

Taylor Hebert hated her life. She hated the hard, stale bread and that people expected a pauper like her to be grateful for it. She hated the rich, snobby assholes in upper Valua. She hated the favoritism that the recruits from rich families got. She hated her sleaze ball Drill Sargent, Gladly and his revolting offers to lighten her workload in exchange for 'favors'.

But most of all, she hated Barnes and her cronies, Hess and Clements.

Taylor didn't know why the three had singled her out. She did her best to blend in, to not make waves. Taylor wanted to be an officer, after all, and you don't rise from grunt to commission by making enemies. So she kept her head down. She tried to wait it out till she could get assigned somewhere far away from the three bitches with a hate on for her. Needless to say, things are never that simple for Taylor.

Her current dilemma came when some of the other recruits invited her out for drinks. She was wary at first, but this group had never been party to the taunts or pranks or shoves, so she agreed. Her fears were soothed further when the handsome Lt. Fennick joined them. After all, the trio had never tried anything in the view of a superior officer. But some little fear niggled at her well honed survival senses.

After a couple rounds, she excused herself to answer natures call. When she returned, something in the mood had changed. Smiles were still present, conversations were held, but it was like everyone was waiting for something. It tweaked her, but she sat down anyways. Taylor grabbed her drink and put it to her lips when she noticed it. Ramses, who had been talking to Jameson, paused and stared slightly as she prepared to take a drink. She put her drink back down.

"Something the matter, Hebert?" Fennick asked politely.

"No sir," She replied, "Just... Feeling that last cup, you know? Think I might head back to the barracks..." Fennick smiled charmingly.

"Don't be such a party pooper, Hebert! At least finish your drink." Taylor shook her head.

"No thanks. I think I might be sick if I do." Fennick's eyes lost some of their joviality.

"Finish your drink Hebert." The room grew quiet.

"...Why do you want me to drink this so badly, sir?"

Fennick dropped all pretenses of merriment and raised his hand above his head. He snapped and everyone in the bar quickly began shuffling out. When the room was empty, save for Taylor and the 3 other recruits, Fennick spoke again.

"When an officer of Valua tells you to do something, Recruit," He spat her rank like a curse, "You do it." He stood. "When I say jump, you jump. When I say bow down, you put your damned head on the damned floor." He walked around the table to loom over Taylor.

"And when I say drink your damned beer, it is generally a good idea to drink it. It would have made this so much more pleasant for you. You would just drift off to sleep and wake up sore tomorrow." He leaned down to grab ahold of her chin.

"But we're past that now aren't we? Now you get to feel it as we take turns destroying your pussy and asshole. And, as befits nobility, I'm going to be the first to bend you over this table and-!"

Whatever he was going to say was cut off as Taylor rammed her palm into his chin. The sickening sound of teeth shearing through flesh filled the bar. A full inch of the Lieutenant's tongue hit the floor. He fell backwards in pain and shock, clawing at his mouth in panic. The recruits stared, dumbly at the sudden violence and Taylor took full advantage. She grabbed her glass and, remembering her fair share of bar brawls, shoved it into the closest man's face.

His screams of pain as clutched his glass filled eyes shook his companions out of their stupors and they moved to rush her. Taylor flipped the table to put distance between them and her. She could never take them two on one in a physical contest but she did have something she could do better than everyone else she had ever met. It was the reason the Armada had accepted her in the first place.

Taylor Hebert was almost unnaturally good at magic.

"Moons, give me strength!" She intoned. Neon particles began to cling to her opponents as the spell Drillnos did its work. Their movements slowed and lost force. Ramses attempted to smash her with his chair but she deftly dodged the weakened attack. The path of her dodge brought her in line with her two attackers, setting her up perfectly.

"Moons, give me strength!" She called out the universal chant again. This time, darkness seemed to coalesce at her extended finger before a powerful lance of lightning struck out, skewering both unarmored men. Electres was a spell that could blow holes in a marrocco's hardened shell. Human flesh just vaporized on contact, killing both of Taylor's weakened targets instantly.

Pausing for breath, Taylor surveyed her surroundings. Two men dead, a superior officer stupidly choking on his own blood, and a forth man blinded, curled into a ball and sobbing. 'Yes,' she thought to herself, 'It's time to leave.' She heard shouts coming from outside for the guards. 'Valua. It's time to leave Valua.' She amended.

* * *

Her plan was simple. Find a merchant vessel, stow away and get the hell out of Valua. Naturally, it was doomed to failure.

She did find a merchant vessel on the way out. A small black cruiser with Nasr markings. She stowed away with little issue. There are always unused cabinets and lockers large enough to hold a tall, skinny 17 year old fugitive. She even managed to convince herself that she was comfortable in the small, cramped space. The he ship she was on even passed through customs with relative ease. It seemed word of her murders hadn't spread this far up and then down the chain of command yet.

No, where her plan failed was a little more fundamental than that. She failed to ask one very important question. What would she do if the crew discovered her whilst in the middle of the open sky?

This is how Taylor ended up tied securely with her arms behind her back while the crew of The Undersider discussed what to do with her.

"I say we toss her overboard." The girl with harsh features said.

"Let's not be hasty, Rachel."The first mate, a freckled blonde cautioned. "She might have a use."

"Doing what? Sucking off the Captain? We have enough scrawny weaklings taking a cut." The volatile girl glared at the helmsman as he lazily flipped her the bird. She growled in annoyance.

"Maybe I want her to suck my dick?" The foppish helmsman rebutted, not even taking his eyes off the sky in front of him as he steered. "Moons know I'd never be able to put it in you without getting it bitten off and it would probably shrivel and die from smugness poisoning if I have Lisa a go." Both girls glared at him. He smiled wider. "Why not think about my needs for a change?"

"Because you spend enough time doing that yourself. You don't need help from us." Lisa's smirk came back. "Just from a therapist."

"Ouch!" The helmsman said. "I thought you didn't know pyrulen, cause that was a sick burn! Get me a sacres crystal before it scars!"

"Knock it off you three." Commanded the Captain, a lean, muscular, black man. He cut an imposing figure in his dark leather duster and matching pistol brace. Taylor briefly considered if having to warm his bed was such a steep price. "Look, Miss..." He looked at her expectantly.

"Hebert." She supplied.

"Hebert. Right. Now, I know lower Valua is a shit hole. Believe me I do. But you don't look stupid and you had to know we'd find you. What's waiting for you back there that's worse than an angry crew and a long drop?" Taylor grimaced. No helping it now, she supposed.

"Two, maybe three murder charges where 'They were trying to drug and rape me.' Is trumped by 'I'm poor and they're not.' Well, weren't, I suppose."

The crew stared. Taylor blushed and looked down. The first mate began laughing uproariously. Taylor blushed harder.

"See?" Lisa crowed. "This is why you always find out their story. Ha! Kills two men and leaves the third dying then unknowingly stows away on a pirate ship on a smuggling mission!"

"Lisa!" The Captain admonished.

"Sorry, sorry. I just can't help it! It's too perfect! Now I just have to seduce her and the trashy harlequin romance novel plot is complete!" She collapsed in a fit of giggles and Taylor debated wether she should throw her self over the ship's railing to escape the embarrassment. She decided not to. Barely.

The Captain rubbed his eyes in exasperation and sighed. He turned to address Taylor. "We're not going to turn you into Valua, but you will have to work for your passage. Do you have any useful skills or am I just going to have you on your knees-" Both blondes burst into gales of laughter. "Scrubbing the deck! Get you minds off sex for two seconds!"

Taylor considered her options for a moment and decided that full disclosure had worked so far, so she might as well.

"I'm primarily skilled with yellow magic. I know electri, electres, electrum, driln, and drillnos. I'm still working on electrulen. I'm familiar with Valuan tactics and procedures. I could mark up the current patrol routes on a map but don't expect those to stay the same for very long. I'm passable with the standard shock baton, but I prefer knives or pistols. Beyond that, the Armada doesn't offer shit for training beyond 'go hit that guy with your stick while shouting patriotic slogans.'"