Legendary

Alfred was joking about Damian's tea. He was actually highly critical of his tea and only Alfred was allowed to brew it for him, and only herbal tea or oolong at that. He had a choice collection of Yixing clay pots, beautifully seasoned from centuries of use for his white and green teas, and an iron pot and all the other trimmings for when he wanted to perform a tea ceremony. It was all very pointless to me; the fanciest I get with my coffee is a French press. But Damian is a connoisseur.

After a little more conversation, Alan reappeared, looking a little dazed by his encounter with Aslyn, and he and Alfred packed up and left. "What happened with Nico?" I asked her. She'd been very into him.

She sighed. "Oh, Nico. He's gone so much; bodyguarding pays really well. I don't want to make an ultimatum, the job or me, so... We see each other occasionally when he's in the city, but that's about it."

"Sorry to hear that," I said.

"Yeah." She gathered herself up. "Well, I want to upgrade my desk tools, so I'm going to go shopping. Martha's working on a building-wide grand opening celebration, so she'll be here awhile. You need to talk to Martha; she said before lunch that she might have a line on a property that will be our first official office-wide dream teamup." We hunted up Margaret; she'd found a promising site but needed to do more research and promised a report when she was done. Some of the company were doing a little more work while they were in the office, but others, including myself, were taking advantage of the weekend. I went through the building floor by floor, seeing that we weren't the only businesses moving in. The freight elevator was in heavy use as well as the lift, with people bringing in boxes and bags of their stuff along with furniture movers. I liked seeing my building bustling with purpose.

Damian was out sailing with some of his friends and had taken Eira, so I went home and, after checking at the mansion to be sure that there were no visitors, took the opportunity to go flying during the day. Normally, I flew before going to bed or getting up early to fly through the fog. I'd kind of slacked off, just flying because it was fun, but after the Joker, I'd been adding discipline, doing drills before flying for the fun of it. I came upon Alfred in the orchard, cleaning up after a storm had damaged some branches of a few of the fruit trees. I took the clippers and followed his instructions, clearing up the highest points. It was kind of fun, and it was work to hover, which was good for me. I landed to give Alfred back the tool and he smoothed the feathers at the edge of one of my wings gently. "Your wings are quite beautiful, Miss Alex. I imagine you're glad to still have them."

"I am," I said, nodding. "I still feel kind of like a freak with them, but I like them, overall." I brought them down and hooked the top claws under my chin so that they formed a barrier against the cold breeze that had sprung up. "I like that link with Valhalla. I'm quite relieved to know that when it's time, I'll go back, but I won't have to worry about the end of the world anymore."

"You know you're returning?" he asked with interest. Poor guy had to depend on his jacket for warmth. Wings are better.

"Unless I disgrace myself with cowardice, yes. One of the Norn who invented the Valkyries told me so on one of my visits."

"Master Damian is unlikely to arrive there.""

"Well, it essentially takes a splashy heroic action, and Damian's more subtle than that. But it isn't impossible, he's certainly brave enough." I pondered. "But it's looking to be much less separation that I first thought."

"May I ask why you think that?" Alfred asked after a moment.

"Can you keep a secret?" I asked after deliberating a moment of my own. "Of course you can, sorry. It's just that I haven't really said anything about this to a human person." I flipped my hand in apology. It was under the wings, so he couldn't see it, though. "When I was dying after that last action with the fire giants" he winced "it was if I could see the whole of creation, including all these afterlives. Some of which are not good, not good at all. But I saw into Hades. There are several different ways in. So if Damian goes back there, I can go visiting. I can travel through space and time on my own, sort of my own TARDIS, even without the valkyrie abilities. I even saw the Celtic afterlife where you had been, so I could come see you too."

His eyes opened wide and his mouth actually dropped open. "That's astonishing," he said after a pause. "Do you know how you came to have that ability?"

I shook my head. "No, but I'm blaming it on my mutations. It's actually how I met Uncle Steve. We'd run into each other on the battlefield, I'd kill him, he was irritating. It wasn't a big deal because after the battle, everybody was returned to 'life' as we knew it. But one time he was baiting me, I was really irritated, and when I killed him, he disappeared. It was weird, and I did the same thing to Frigga after she came looking for him. She didn't like my answer, that I didn't know what had happened, and wounded me." I decided not to fill in the details. "Turned out that I'd accidentally sent them to Helheim, which is where most of the people in the Norse afterlife end up. She wasn't pleased about it, but that was what led Odin to offer to make me a valkyrie. It's hard work, though, the more mass that has to be moved ramps up the effort."

"You do have the most interesting experiences of anyone I have ever met, Miss Alex," he said finally. I helped him carry equipment and the trimmed branches back to the outbuildings. "If you weren't so kind, you'd be dangerous."

"Damian's not like his dad, he doesn't like the bad girls," I joked. "Keeps me on the straight and narrow." Alfred snorted in amusement.

I dropped my branch when I saw Alan at the outbuilding, though. His eyes were huge when he saw the wings, and I didn't know what to do with them; I settled for holding them close on my back.

"I thought that all your lot's wings went away," Alan said after a short, charged silence. Alfred looked between us; he had a calm expression but I could tell he was tense.

"I'm the only one who still has them. Is that a problem for you?"

"No, I shouldn't think so. I saw that movie, same as everyone. I know what we owe you," he said thoughtfully.

"Even if he had an issue, Miss Alex, he did sign the non-disclosure agreement," Alfred said, reminding me. "In times when anti-mutant sentiment is high, it could be dangerous for others to know of her ability," he said to Alan.

"May I see them, Miss Alex?" Alan asked, and I extended them fully. "Pretty. Is the feather in your offices from your wings?"

"Yes, I saved it from my last molt." He smiled.

"Some members of the Justice League were here a few weeks ago," he said. "Hawkgirl's feathers aren't nearly as nice. They're just white. Of course, they're made from Nth metal, not organic."

"Ours all started out white, but after that first molt, most of us changed colors, from white through gray to black."'

"Why not colors?" Alan asked, sounding genuinely curious.

"I think it's because they take their inspiration from swans' feathers, and they're available in a very narrow range of colors. That reminds me. If you see any free-range swans around waddling with a purpose, don't approach them but call me immediately. They may be an emissary from Asgard, and if they are, they're mean little bastards. One of them broke my finger when it bit me." I scowled. Alan started to laugh, then stopped when he saw I was serious. "It's a weird world out there, Alan."

"As you say, Miss Alex," he agreed, and picked up the branch I dropped. I handed my tools to Alfred as Alan went inside the building, then pulled myself up onto the roof, beat my wings, and hopped off.

"I shall see you at home, Miss Alex," Alfred said to me. "Enjoy your flight."

And I did.

The next day I took Damian and Eira in to see the building. Mom was there again, and she treated us to coffee, giving her barista some practice. "It's great to know the owner," Damian said blissfully, sipping his chai, which was a black tea, steamed milk, and a special house blend of spices. I went straight for the mocha, extra shot of espresso.

"The more time I spend here, the more I like it, dear," Mom said to me. "It's so elegant, yet friendly."

"That is exactly what I was going for," I said with satisfaction. I agreed to send out a survey to the other businesses in the building to see if there would be support for having a coffee cart coming through the building twice daily. "Well, I'll have Martha do it. Our occupancy is at about 90%, so we'll get a really good idea about excitement for door to door coffee service," I said complacently. Then Damian told us how the sailing went. Poor Eira hadn't enjoyed it at all; she was strictly a land lubber like me. Damian had been worried when she got seasick, and she felt bad about impacting his fun. And she hadn't like the salt spray in her fur.

"You like mud and smelly things, but you draw the line at salt water?" I said to her incredulously, and she gave the canine equivalent of a shrug. She thought that she'd prefer to spend her day, now that it was getting chilly again, snug at home, romping through the leaves that Alan and Alfred raked up with Charlie or sacked out in front of the library fireplace, also with Charlie. And the cats. "Oh, god," I said, rolling my eyes.

"What?" my mom asked.

"She wants another cat," I told my husband, rolling my eyes. "A large one, with long fur for warmth. She's as bad as you are, darling."

Damian laughed and scratched behind her ears. "She's got good taste." Then Mom was called away for a problem with the inventory, and we went upstairs in the sumptuous lift. Up at the office, Damian looked around approvingly at the luxurious reception area and I gave him the tour of the floor, ending in my office. Eira trotted over to her new dog bed and flopped down, twisting and rolling to make a little wallow.

"This is stunning, Sweet pea," Damian said, putting his arms around me as we looked out at the Dagny's park. "I've been hearing really good buzz about the building around town. Some people think you're crazy to have sunk money into the building like you did, others point to the employment of so many craftspeople and the creation of an iconic building as positives. And you've only got one space unleased, which is unusual."

"Parents!" Martha said from the doorway. She came over after petting Eira.

"Did you get Uncle J's email, Mom?"

"Haven't checked it, honey. What's up?"

"Well, his clinic was going to do a health fair for low-income or unemployed people before it starts to get really cold, nip problems in the bud, but there were problems getting permits; nearby businesses had objections. But your park is private property." She told me the dates, and I rubbed my face and agreed.

"I'll have to ask whether they might like balloons and some refreshments," Damian said.

"I already asked, Pop," Martha said. "I'll get a balloon arch for the entrance--it's great that the balloons are biodegradable these days--some healthy snacks, get in a face painter for the kids. Make it kind of fun."

"What's kind of fun?" Serena popped her head in. "Hey, Damian. What do you think of our new place?"

"I think I want the name of your designer," he said. "I work in a dump in comparison." We laughed and Martha explained the health fair.

"Oh, that's good," Serena said. "Maybe we could get some news coverage, draw attention to the clinic and also the good works of Valkyrie. And if you've got the nicer side of health care covered, I'll kick in water bottles for the patients, I'm sure I could get some branded with the clinic name and Valkyrie. They've still got that enormous encampment in Central Park and they have to carry water to their tents."

"I'm so glad Aunt Becca got out of there," I said.

"Well, it's the last one in the city, so that's good news," Damian said.

"So this is where the party is," Aslyn said, coming in with Dagny. She listened as we talked about the health fair, and nodded. "Send an email to the tenants when it's firmed up," she told Martha. "Let them know what's going on and also that their employees can attend if they want."

"It's too bad that they didn't do it when the gardens were in bloom," Dagny said. "It's so much prettier. Doesn't really make maximum impact. But if this works out well, maybe we could make it an annual event."

"I like that idea," Aslyn said. "Because, frankly, we could have an image problem. We've got this ultra-posh building, and we don't want to look like a bunch of rich bitches."

"The commission I made on my first project was more than I'd ever earned in my entire first life," Dagny said thoughtfully. "It wouldn't hurt us to start a fund for good works in the company. Maybe 1% of our commissions. That would add up pretty fast."

"But I don't make any profits," Aslyn said, biting her lip.

"You could kick in an amount from your paycheck, then," Dagny said. "We could all structure it the way it makes sense for each individual. There are going to be months where we're not billing as much, or months where there's a bounty. Some of us might prefer to make regular contributions. But it should be a voluntary thing. We might want to just try it out, anyway; since we can start buying into the partnership next year, and we might want to structure things a little differently then."

"I like it," Aslyn said. "Margaret and Karen will too. Karen was talking about us maybe doing a Habitat for Humanity build."

"Carol was talking to her about that," I nodded. "She keeps offcuts and scraps from her jobs that could be used there. Let's bring this up at the next partners meeting."

"Will the staff be able to join in?" Martha asked.

Serena patted her shoulder. "Absolutely. The more the merrier."

"We should get t-shirts if we do the Habitat build," Aslyn said.

"There's a new place down by Uncle Steve's new shop that does custom embroidery and t-shirt printing," I contributed.

"Ooh, we should get dress shirts or polos or something with the company logo, just for every day," Dagny said. Talking among themselves, they filed out. I looked at my husband and laughed.

Martha poked her head back in. "Copy for the grand opening of the building is on your desk, Mom. The sooner you approve it, the sooner we can start publicizing it." She turned around as I nodded, then turned back. "Is Aslyn serious about us getting a butler? On the one hand, I'm spoiled and it would be nice to have a part time butler, but on the other, do we really need one?"

"She's serious," I said with a sigh. "And it would be nice to have somebody wrangling set ups for parties and receptions, but somebody in the office probably could do that."

"Sounds like a job for the PR professional," Damian said, smirking. Martha rolled her eyes at her dad.

"Right. We can also put the butler in charge of the flowers for the office. We're still going with fresh flowers for the reception area, aren't we, with individuals taking care of their own offices? Dagny's providing plants to keep the air good," she muttered, and walked off, still talking to herself. Damian examined my new office as I quickly approved the copy for the grand opening--it was exactly what we'd agreed to-- and we dropped it off in her office on her way out. I heard her talking to Aslyn about the requirements for a butler and how they'd frame it for publicity by calling the individual our majordomo and making it sound charmingly eccentric rather than spoiled. We tiptoed away. It was the weekend, after all--and what was everybody doing here, anyway?

We ran some errands and got home mid-afternoon. Just before dinner, I got a call from Bucky.

"Well, I finally had a conversation with our mutual acquaintance," he said.

"That took longer than I expected," I admitted.

"Well, he wasn't conscious the first couple times I dropped in."

"Did he have any interesting news?" I asked.

"He said that he was aware that someone is looking for me, but he didn't have a name for me," Bucky said, sounding disgusted. "It was mostly a lure to draw you to him."

"Darn it," I said. "I was hoping for answers."

"Well, I gave him some information, free of charge. I reminded him that you felt constrained by the approach of the police, but if you saw him again, all bets were off, and he hadn't seen everything you can do. I think he took the hint. I also told him that all bets were off if anything happened to your husband, and that your wrath would make what happened look like a schoolyard fight. So there's that," he offered, and I smiled.

"Don't suppose he's feeling better after your visit," I remarked.

"Well, if he isn't, there aren't any marks on him," Bucky observed grimly. "He's got an overactive imagination, everybody knows that. He made a libelous remark about our relationship and I told him that I wouldn't have him slandering you like that. I don't think he'll do it again."

"What did Bucky have to say?" Damian asked after I hung up.

"The Joker doesn't know who's after him, just that somebody is," I said with disgust. "He also apparently said that my relationship with my uncle is incestuous."

Damian sat up suddenly, his eyes glaring. "What hospital is he in again?"

"Relax, darling, Bucky made sure there aren't any marks on him." He sat back slowly.

"I'll start asking around to see if I can find out any more information about Bucky's stalker," he volunteered, and I accepted that.

The next day there was a report on the morning show that the Joker's sanity had taken a turn for the worse, gibbering in fear of a black-clad man, according to the police. "It's just laying the ground for an insanity plea," one of the anchors said in disgust. "He's being held in a secure room. He's got nothing to be afraid of. Well, aside from Alex Barnes, but she's not on any of the security footage."

I smiled as the other anchor moved on to reporting traffic snarls. The Joker had ample reason to fear the things that went bump in the night. Which was mostly me, I did better in at least low-light conditions.

But he should fear the surveillance of the things you never saw coming even more.