Legend

I walked into the suite of my new business with mixed feelings: pride, terror, curiosity. I had a front desk although no receptionist just yet; Tony (it had been really hard to break the habit of calling him Mr Stark, but he insisted since we were in business together) was going to send down somebody, but he or she hadn't arrived yet. I enjoyed the promise of the enterprise, smelling the new paint on the walls. I'd wanted a mural instead of god-awful art like you usually find in offices. Tony'd been offended, challenging me to find crap art anywhere in the tower. I knew I couldn't--he had a great art collection throughout the skyscraper--but he did understand the desire for uniqueness. Uncle Bucky had surprised me one day, coming in with an old sketchbook. He flipped it open to show me several pages of the body in motion. There were both male and female figures, but they weren't playing sports, which would make it kind of cheesy, they just showed movement. It was an odd sketchbook; about half of the pages were gone.

"This was one of Stevie's books," he said casually. "When you said you wanted murals, I thought of them." The studies were transferred to the walls of the waiting room and the hallway, including the doors. They had a faint Art Deco flavor, which added to their appeal, I felt. In any case, it looked sensational and I had a little plaque done up to give credit where it was due, including Bucky for donating the source material. He was bashfully pleased to be included and gave me the whole sketchbook. He said I wouldn't be here forever and if I liked the look, I should be able to use it wherever I was.

I passed through to the back. I was going to be using the clinic for the foreseeable future for sample collection to be sent to Dr McCoy--Hank--it was hard to get used to calling older people by their first names. He'd be handling the genetic analysis. I already had anonymized data bases from the X-Men and the Avengers; small sample sizes, but I would be taking samples from each client I saw. I wanted to study trends, see if there were observable links between placement of the mutations on the chromosomes and strength of the mutations as well as fine-tuning identification of what the mutations were by their locations. Any blood draws for additional information would also be handled upstairs for now. When the operation moved in the future, I would be handling sample collection. Because the threat of alien invasion from space was always a looming threat, municipalities had asked for people to take basic first aid and CPR; there were organized brigades for those who wanted to help more, and as someone who worked in physical therapy, I'd decided to use my anatomy and physiology classes and had studied in parallel to my masters degree. First I'd earned an EMT-B certification during my first year, and just a few weeks prior, I'd passed the state certification test to become a paramedic. It wasn't the classes that were especially difficult for me to get through, it was the hours of experience. Avenger Tower was always ground zero when the aliens attacked the city, and I'd much rather be doing rather than cowering in the emergency shelters. Wayne Enterprises--Medical was developing a blood analyzer that would enable us to take a drop from a client's fingertip, put it on a specially designed chip, and stick it into an instrument that could check for specific parameters that could indicate muscle damage or other problems affecting the client. By the time it was estimated to be ready, J would have graduated from med school and would be able to interpret them beyond a cursory comparison of numbers. We'd be able to give our clients fast, accurate results.

There was a short hallway; a bathroom, handicapped accessible, was behind the reception area, then a small dedicated custodial supply closet, then the big room. Since the staff for this side of the wall was just me, the testing area and exam room were rolled up into one space. I had an office off to the side. It was bigger than I felt I needed, but Tony had approved the extra space. He and Mr Wayne--damn, Bruce--had battled over who was going to provide the office tech. Tony had won, mostly because I needed his tech to interface with the tower systems. Bruce had taken over providing the equipment I needed for the work with clients, including extremely high-speed cameras that would allow me to analyze clients with superspeed, like Quicksilver, if he ever needed help. I was still waiting for equipment to arrive, but the treatment tables as well as the other furniture was set up. I went into my office and pounded out details until lunch, then I opened the door and went down a flight of stairs to the training room where I'd be helping Bucky. I had a pretty interesting setup. There was access to my office from inside the tower, of course, but there was also an external stairwell, well concealed, that street level heroes could use to access it. The Night Nurse was also moving into retirement, and Tony had agreed to discreetly provide emergency care to the population who were depending on her. He was using an extension of the protocols they used during the first Kree-Skrull invasion so that they could use their hero names rather than their legal names.

To my surprise, Hogun showed up with Sif for training. After I'd pounded on Volstagg, the Warriors Three had kept their distance from me. Natasha dropped by, and we did some barre work together, then I helped Kate to decide on a weightlifting routine that would increase her strength without going for a bulky look. It was a decent first day's work, which I ended with a full workout with my uncle. After dinner, I did some more paperwork, then went upstairs to bed.

The next day was very similar, as was the third, but on the fourth day, I had my first client. Colonel Rhodes came in, tapping on the door. I came out of my office to meet him in the training room. He was friendly, but the years of extra effort and pain imposed by his spinal injury had worn lines into his face and he had a slight but definite air of distance. I asked what I could do for him.

"Well, I'm having more and more trouble moving these days," he said. "Even with the best innovations Tony can come up with, I'm starting to lose ground with my mobility. I wondered if you could look at things with a fresh eye."

"Yes, of course," I said, and had him sit down on the treatment table and sign a consent so that I could look at the latest scans and tests they'd done upstairs in the clinic. The damage to the bone of the spine and the nerves in the spinal cord was plain to see. There were additional signs of arthritis, and the muscles were a little more atrophied than I'd expected. I thought back over what I'd learned in school and the news and trends I'd been following. "I can think of a couple of things right off the top of my head," I said. "Have you been evaluated for the new stem cell treatment? It's in Korea, but the results have been impressive." He'd heard about them, but wasn't sure about going so far for treatment. We talked about the exercise he was doing, and I had some thoughts about that, and I suggested that Tony redesign his exoskeleton. We went into the training room and we went through the exercises I thought would be most beneficial. He said that different muscles were being used, so that was something to consider. I said I'd research some other lines of inquiries I had--I needed to get out to Wayne Medical-- and we set him up with an appointment in a week.

Gradually, I started to get new clients. Mostly Avengers, but the street-level heroes started to show up, and Bruce came by for a nagging shoulder injury. Hank sent me a new kid from their school; his muscles were resilient like rubber, but he was having a hard time controlling them and movement was difficult. Normal ways of movement just weren't working, so we started work on alternatives.

I started taking part in social activities too; Aslyn was in cyber security at the tower, so we went out a lot after work and I started dating. I started running in to Damian in passing; he'd stayed at Harvard for his MBA and was now starting to learn his father's business, including Wayne Medical. He kind of choked on the costs of medical and medical technology development costs, but I encouraged him to buck up.

J was just starting med school and kept texting me gross stuff on the theory that my paramedic certification meant that I was happy with a lot of detail. No. Mom and Dad managed to sell their properties in Dimock and relocated in upper New York state, in a smaller town. Mom opened a coffee shop rather than a restaurant and Dad quit accounting and focused on his woodworking. I ordered a couple of chairs for the office and it was a proud day in my life when I paid for them. It meant a lot to me that I could pay for what I wanted, which was the best I could find.

New York has a lot of attractions, especially if you've achieved your majority. Margaret, one of my best friends from MIT, had moved here and was working for the city, and she joined Aslyn and me exploring the entertainment. Karen had done a year of college and had earned a place in Salt Lake City's ballet company in the corps, and Rill was working in Louisiana; she'd changed her major to geochemistry and was working for an oil company, so unfortunately they couldn't join us. But we decided nothing was off limits, and it was easy for me to defend us, so we went everywhere and sampled everything--the museums and other edifying places, plays and musicals, cultural festivals, window shopping, sporting events, nightclubs and bars, from the most rarified we could get into to dive bars. We hit the flip side, too; we went to burlesque shows, a couple of strip clubs to see what the fuss was all about, the erotic social club One Leg Up, a couple of sex clubs. We also went to places where everybody's clothes remained on--raves for the above college set, speakeasies, and Margaret, doing urban planning, always knew the most interesting, latest and/or hippest places to be. We went for the experiences, and I also kept an eye out for the enhanced-but-not-super set, discreetly introducing myself and passing them a business card . I had a spiel that I used to quickly acquaint people with my goals and offer an introduction to a growing community. New York was the best place to be if you wanted to be a street-level hero.

Then there started to be sort of a coalescing of the community that summer; word got around of all night diners where you could usually find other enhanced, then Red Heels (strength and agility, known for her costume's shoes) and Steel Hart (toughness and bursts of acceleration) went into business together and opened a bar for street-level heroes and other enhanced. Once you knew how to look, discerning another enhanced wasn't difficult. Normals who wandered in never stayed long and I don't think the supers even knew it existed. Since the age of the patrons skewed young, Red Eye was busiest after midnight through til dawn; it quit serving alcohol at the legal limit, then switched to non-alcoholic beverages and snacks from the kitchen. And it wasn't typical bar fare, it had actual nutritional value and was healthy; selections varied, but even the higher-calorie offerings for those with speedy metabolisms were good for you. I usually dropped by after saying good night to Margaret and Aslyn.

My business was starting to look healthy. In addition to the clients I got from the Avengers and X-Men, the enhanced were starting to trickle in. I took insurance and usually what happened was there was a visit to get to know the person, the problem, and what the enhancements were and how they were used, then a follow-up visit for improving an exercise routine. If I needed to put on my kinesiology hat for preventing and managing injury and chronic disease and helping to reach peak physical performance over a longer time span, I worked with the client on a sliding scale if the standard rates would be a problem. That didn't happen as often as I'd anticipated. What kept me the busiest was personal training with the Avengers. Uncle Bucky started making appointments for me. I was getting a reputation with the team, and almost everybody wanted to spar with me at least periodically, after which both Bucky and I could present suggestions for training and technique. Uncle Bucky would watch us spar, especially new recruits. Not everybody learned Systema; some went for martial arts, the strong men tended to stick with boxing, so it's always good to measure your skills against a different set. Kate and I were friendly; we'd go to lunch if we were both free, and I practiced archery with her once or twice a week. I was nowhere near as good as she was, but it was an opportunity to practice something I really enjoyed, and she seemed to enjoy the company too.

What needed to change was evident by the end of August. The street-level heroes were transitioning away from the Night Nurse, but they still didn't really want to go upstairs to the clinic. I found myself patching up the minor stuff when I was around, and sending only the serious stuff upstairs. Tony (he was finally learning to knock, you could see it everywhere, even in Emma's office) recognized the situation and carved out more space on my level for a non-emergency clinic. If I wasn't going to be around, I called upstairs and they sent a nurse down to man the little clinic. The street heroes who had pouches or pockets in their costumes usually carried currency, so we had a donation box set up. Those who didn't often stopped in a day or two later with a contribution. The little clinic wasn't self-sustaining, but about half of the operating costs were covered, which I thought was excellent. Emma did too; she'd helped to keep the Night Nurse afloat over the years.

This happy state of affairs lasted all fall. I said to Margaret and Aslyn over drinks after work one day, "It seems weird not be in classes."

Margaret nodded vigorously, and Aslyn laughed. "The transition is kind of weird. I only worked year round in high school, and that was still with class in the fall and spring. I'm not quite sure how to handle all the free time."

"We're managing to fill it pretty well," Margaret opined. And we were, too. Aside from our adventures together, we all dated a lot and had joined organizations, including our respective alumni clubs.

"Here's to being young, gorgeous, and hedonistic," Aslyn said, holding up her glass, and we all laughed and touched glasses.

I couldn't believe how fast Thanksgiving got here. J and the parents came to the city and we had Thanksgiving at Bucky and Emma's. J spent time with me at the business; was going to be joining me, after all, and we both wanted him to be involved from the ground up, even it if was just informational for the time being. We were both eagerly awaiting his graduation from med school.

I started watching the 'For Rent' ads; the tower was lovely, but it felt like a dorm, and I wanted to be able to put space between my work and personal lives. Housing had come down a lot after the Kree-Skrull invasions as people moved out, but it was still too high for a person just starting her own business. I envied Margaret and Aslyn their apartments, tiny though they were.

But first there was the holiday season to get through, and staying at the tower was no hardship then because it was pretty centrally located. It was the best time of year to shine at parties, and we all had great swirls of invitations.

It wasn't a great season for everybody, though; the city experienced a serial arsonist who specialized in apartments. The press was calling him or her the "S'mores" arsonist because a branch with a marshmallow impaled on it was found at each blaze. It was a crappy thing to do, especially around the holidays, but there was a Go Fund Me account set up for victims of the arsons and New Yorkers gave generously to help out, especially because Christmas presents for kids were usually destroyed.

I wasn't think about that just now, though. I was headed in a cab to the Yale Club for the Wayne Enterprises Christmas party; I'd scored an invite because of my work with their medical division. I didn't really want to go, all things considered, but I'd checked with Detective MacIver, and the Joker was still safely in Arkham Asylum, muttering inanely and drooling a lot, he said. He didn't get visitors or mail, and he didn't have access to the phone system or internet. So I got myself a dark red velvet party dress, tea length, with a full skirt, sweetheart neckline and off the shoulder sleeves. It was festive and showed off my shape but wasn't overtly sexy; this was for business, after all. I had black satin pumps with a crystal ornament and a lace shawl that was more to keep the snowflakes off my hair than for warmth; I'd spent a lot of time curling my hair festively. I gave my invitation to the doorman and walked in.