Legend

By midafternoon, the events of the past couple of days had caught up with me and I was beat. I kept falling asleep over the genetic analyses I was trying to finish. I was really interested, because I thought that I was beginning to see a pattern. In my small sample, I was starting to see what I thought what might be a marker for some superhuman abilities. I needed more samples, though. A lot more than the X-men could provide, and samples that tested at more places at the genome than most of the X-men samples did. I put that on the back burner, though.

And I was nervous about the whole Damian situation. What I was feeling for him was so deep and strong that it kind of frightened me, actually. I'd said I loved my previous boyfriends, but in comparison, that love felt like a meandering little creek compared to a roaring torrent. And things were going fast. While I was ok with each individual step, after a bit of acclimation, I was pushing so far past my comfort zone in so many areas of my life that it freaked me out. I'd been graduated with my last degree a little more than ten months, I was fighting through the nettles of my own ineptitude to keep my business going, finding my own place in the world, and finding my way through uncertain ground with Damian. Part of my concerns was that he had a very dangerous after-hours avocation. I didn't want him to stop, but I knew that going forward, I'd only see more of these incidents. And his enemies had become mine before. I'd never had what I would term a successful relationship before, they had both been short and even at the time I knew they wouldn't last. And I was serious about Damian. Deadly serious. One thing that I was glad for was that my apartment lease with the girls was for a year, so I wouldn't be facing the question of moving in with Damian for a good while. I wanted to go further, but I didn't want to go too fast. Or drag my feet. Ugh.

Nevertheless, I left promptly after my last client and walked quickly to the hotel, where I let myself in. He wasn't home yet, so I went into the living room with the bullseye windows and curled up in the window seat that overlooked Central Park. I was just nodding off when my phone buzzed. It was Damian, telling me that he'd gotten hung up on a conference call but was headed back with dinner. I hopped up and brushed my teeth, touched up my makeup and hair, then sent into the dining room and set the table for two. I greeted him with a gentle hug (an x-ray done today revealed two cracked ribs) and an enthusiastic kiss, which he returned with interest. Then he took my face in his hands and said, "I love you." He sighed. "I've been waiting all day to tell you that." His thumb brushed the top of my cheekbone. "You look tired, love."

"It's been an exciting couple of days," I admitted. "I love you too. But I'm starving." Laughing, he gave me the bag, and I smelled Chinese food. Delicious. We went right in to eat. My fortune cookie read "Accept your past without regret, handle your present with confidence, and face your future without fear," which we agreed was a good one. Damian's read, "All your fingers can't be of the same length," which made us laugh and try to ascribe meaning to it. Failing that, I insisted on cleaning up, and hunted him up shortly thereafter in the bedroom, where he was putting on a robe. There were still some bruises, even after the accelerator treatments, and I brushed the worst ones with my fingers, opining that perhaps the Robin suit should be tough rubber like the Batman suit, at least on the torso. He was very stoic about the ribs, though, and he promised to consider it. We decided to take a bath together to relax and fool around a bit. In bed, I got to be on top the whole time out of consideration for his ribs.

"Given how romantic he is, I thought it would be a bigger deal," Aslyn said the next day when we met for a coffee break. "He finally got to tell you he loves you. That's been kicking around for a good long time now."

I smiled. "It was perfect. It was just what is between us, which is enough."

"Plus it makes you uncomfortable when he buys you things because you can't reciprocate," she said, poking her coffee stirrer at me before discarding it.

"True." I looked around, but there was nobody near us. I didn't know why I thought it was private information, but I did. "I went on the Mikimoto site to find information on pearls because I don't know anything about them. And while I was there, I looked at the jewelry they're selling. They don't have any two-strand necklaces on their site, but based on the one strand ones they do show, my strand had to cost about $20 000. Tell me you wouldn't be uncomfortable."

"Shit," Aslyn said, leaning in and covering her mouth with her hand. "My folks have money, but my dad would never spend that on just a necklace."

"Well, there were earrings, too," I said, touching them. She laughed.

"Yeah, those single pearls added so much to the purchase price," she teased. "Speaking of guys, Margaret wants us to meet her boyfriend this Friday."

"Vanilla?" I said, surprised. She grinned.

"It's a new thing, just earlier this week," she allowed. "So I guess it must be love, because he seems pretty tame for her."

"I have no room to talk," I said. "Damian and I don't match up on paper either." We texted Margaret and got it all set up. We'd be meeting for cocktails.

"I forgot to tell you," Aslyn said, eyes twinkling. "I also have a date after the cocktails. I met her a couple weeks ago, this will be our third date."

"Ok, I'll stay at Damian's," I said, nudging her side. She laughed.

"I didn't know Aslyn was a lesbian," Damian said later as we were making our weekend plans.

"She's not," I said absently as I looked over the dress I was going to wear to the fundraiser to make sure there weren't any rips or stains. "She's bi. She's had about equal numbers of girlfriends and boyfriends."

"Huh. So tell me about this guy Margaret's seeing."

"Don't know that much about him, actually, she said once that he's pretty unadventurous, so either she's gotten him to try new things or she's ok with it. Be interesting to finally meet the guy."

He turned out to have a name--Thomas--and was blandly good looking with light blond hair and hazel eyes. He was expressionless as Margaret introduced Aslyn and me, but started smiling after we'd been chatting a little. He stuck with water for drinks, and Margaret, who would usually have two martinis during a happy hour, made one last for the two hours we were there. He seemed somewhat uptight and was just starting out on Wall Street. At the end of our get-together, I said, "It's nice to have met you." His smile didn't reach his eyes as he said goodbye and escorted Margaret to a taxi.

Aslyn and I were left abruptly at the curb. "What just happened?" I asked.

"I think he hates us," she said. "He didn't even say 'nice to meet you too,' which you always say even if you're lying. I just don't see the attraction unless it's the polar opposites thing."

"He must be different with Margaret," was all I could think of to say. We'd gotten done sooner than we'd expected, actually, so we went to have an ice cream before her date started. Aslyn got a text that her date was also ready early, so she was invited to ice cream with us. Ellen turned out to be gorgeous, slightly shorter than Aslyn, with Titian hair and blue eyes. They made a striking couple. She was also gregarious and fun, unlike Vanilla--whoops, Thomas. Had to break that habit before I used it around him. We enjoyed our ice cream, then I said goodnight and went to the hotel. Damian was out with his friends, so I turned on the TV and watched a hockey game off and on while reading. I texted Aslyn that I liked Ellen a lot, and felt better for one of my friends.

The next night was the fundraiser, and Damian took me for a couple's massage beforehand. It was lovely to be massaged by an expert. The pearls were the last thing I put on, and Damian fastened the clasp and kissed the nape of my neck. "So beautiful," he murmured. It was a dinner thing with cocktails before and dancing after, and he introduced me to a lot of people. His dad was there with a gorgeous woman, age-appropriate, who was sleek and sophisticated from her updo to the hem of her dress. "Selina Kyle," Bruce introduced me after patting his son's shoulder and kissing my cheek.

"Delightful," she purred, as we shook hands. She wore a lovely pearl collar with cats on the central plaque.

When we got home, Damian told me that Selina was also Catwoman, a revelation that left me stunned. "Dad likes the dark side," he said, shrugging. "They've been on and off for decades."

"Batman and Catwoman, though," I said, taking my necklace off and putting it in its case. "Jeeze. Can I keep this here?" I asked. "I don't feel it's really safe in the apartment and you've got a room safe."

"Of course," he said, taking the case and putting it inside the safe for me as I skinned out of the dress, putting on my new robe.

"Those are good colors for you," he said, as he returned to me and tugged at the sash.

"I think I'd quite like it if I ever got the opportunity to wear it," I said, laughing, as he tossed the sash on the back of the chair and slid his hands inside the robe over my skin.

"Try it some time when I'm not here," was his advice as I popped the shirt studs out of his tuxedo shirt and peeled it over his broad shoulders. He worked my panties over my hips as I unzipped his pants, but left the thigh-highs and my dress shoes on, his gaze heating as he looked at me before tossing me on the bed. He quickly shed the rest of his clothes before joining me.

On Sunday, we slept in, then went into Central Park for the afternoon, visiting the Carousel and the zoo and walking along the paths hand in hand. We had dinner, and he dropped me off at my apartment.

Time to face the music. Aslyn and Margaret were inside, chatting as they watched TV. I dropped my messenger bag inside the door to my room before coming back and sitting in the chair. "So what did you think of Thomas?" she asked us eagerly.

"He's cute," I said before Aslyn could. It was the kindest thing I could think to say about him, and only for a specific definition of 'cute' as 'not ugly.' Aslyn grimaced at me for saying it first. "He seems very into you," I added for good measure.

"Thanks," Margaret said, then looked at us closely. "You don't like him," she said, disappointed.

"We didn't have a lot of time to get to know him," I said.

Aslyn sighed. "Not really, and it seemed that the feeling was mutual."

"It takes awhile for him to warm up to new people," Margaret said. "So I can see why you would think so."

"I have specific concerns," Aslyn said. "I noticed that you only had one martini rather than the two you have with us."

"That was my choice," Margaret said. "His dad is an alcoholic, so he doesn't drink. I enjoy my martinis and I'm not willing to give them up, but it was my idea to cut back. He didn't ask me to do it."

"Ok, that's good. But look, Margaret, you know yourself that sometimes friends just don't get along with boyfriends. I think that's what's happening here. He never asked either Alex or me anything about ourselves, and while you've probably told him about us, there's always a few questions just to be polite. He didn't engage with us at all between the introductions and the farewells. Remember? Even you couldn't get him to talk to us."

"I know," she said, sighing. "He can be a dick, but he's always really good to me."

"As long as he doesn't get controlling," I said, and she nodded.

"He's pretty conservative," Margaret said. "When he asked how long the cocktails would last so he would know when to get our dinner reservation, I said that Aslyn had a date with Ellen. He doesn't really approve of anything but straight heterosexuality."

That put a silence over the group until I started to laugh. "You obviously haven't told him about your sex life before him," I said fondly, and she flushed.

"No," she said. "but have you told Damian anything about yours?"

"Just that I had a couple boyfriends, not that I tried a bunch of different aspects of sexuality," I acknowledged. "But I honestly don't think he'd care. Neither of us has asked about sex before we got together."

"Probably not," she said, and huffed out some air. "But Thomas does care. And I care for him. I don't think it will last over the long term, but when it's just us, he's terrific." She dropped her head back and addressed the ceiling. "He's not perfect, but honestly, I'd like to settle down with somebody. I'd like to find my own Damian," she said to me and nudged me with her foot.

"Don't settle, Margaret," I said peaceably. "Have fun with Thomas, however long that lasts. But you deserve more than 'good enough.' Damian has some nice friends who I'm sure would love to meet you if you decide to test the waters again."

"Well, enjoy yourself," Aslyn advised. "But there's no point in more cocktail hours with the four of us, I think." We nodded. Then Margaret smiled.

"So, tell us about Ellen," she said coaxingly.

"She seemed nice," I said to Aslyn, then showed them a pic I'd snapped at the ice cream shop. "Gorgeous, isn't she?" Margaret agreed, and we talked for a couple more hours. I felt better about Margaret afterward. Maybe I'd ask Damian to ID a couple of his single friends who might be a good match for her.

I went to sleep plotting dates for Margaret. And possibly Aslyn, if the thing with Ellen didn't work out. One thing that it made me realize is that I didn't have a lot of friends any more, which was a state I hadn't been in for years, since high school. In college I had tons of friends and acquaintances. I needed to expand my horizons.

I woke up, feeling stifled. It was still dark outside, too early for the alarm...then I noticed the smell of smoke in the air, thick and acrid. I went to flip on the bedside light, but it didn't work. I got up and moved to the door as I started to cough. The door caught on my messenger bag and I picked it up absently as I went into the living room. I could see light moving in the a between the curtains and hurried over. The windows of the building across the street were alive, reflecting the flames from our building. That woke me up and I ran to Margaret's room, pounding on the door before going over to Aslyn's door. "Get up!" I shouted. "The building's on fire!"

I opened their doors; the smoke wasn't as pronounced on this side of the apartment. I grabbed Margaret's wrist and pulled her along; Aslyn ran out of her room and met us at the door. The hall was thick with smoke and we pounded on doors on the way to the stairs. The smoke was terrible in the stairwell, as if it was being funneled up. It was crowded with panicked people, and we got separated. The railings got hot closer to the ground. I screamed as fire broke through the wall right next to me, and all of us panicked and ran. People fell; I helped some guy who'd been trampled get to his feet but I was too afraid to linger. The main floor was ablaze, but it was only a short dash to the door to the street and I focused on the door, hitting it with my shoulder because I was sure the metal and glass would be hot. And I noticed then that aside from the living sounds of the fire and the desperation of the people, there were no fire alarms going off. Somebody started beating on my back. At last I stumbled onto the street, coughing hard, sucking in the cold night air.

"Your hair is on fire!" somebody shouted hoarsely, and I stood and let them beat it out.

"Thanks," I managed to say, then moved into the street with the others, watching anxiously for Aslyn and Margaret. I saw people with their cell phones out, some calling, some taking video. I didn't see Aslyn until she was only a couple of feet in front of me. We clutched each other.

"Margaret?" I said, before choking on the smoke again.

She shook her head and we looked through the crowd for her, keeping tight hold on each other. "Some people are coming around the side of the building," she pointed out, coughing. Sirens approached as we looked, then the arrival of fire trucks pushed us to the opposite sidewalk. We watched, shaking with the cold now that we were pushed back from the flames, as firetrucks hooked up efficiently and quickly to hydrants and police cleared us back. Ambulances arrived, their sirens adding to the hellish chaos, and soon we were being assessed by the paramedics and given oxygen for smoke inhalation. I was treated for first- and second-degree burns from the stairwell. Then we were given blankets as a horrible crashing noise caught everybody's attention. The floors were collapsing.

Aslyn and I huddled together. I realized that I was clutching the strap of my messenger bag. I pulled out my phone and tried Margaret, not hoping for much, I couldn't remember her having her phone. It went to voicemail. We shivered together despite the blankets until we were rechecked by the paramedics and questioned by a police officer. We didn't have much to say about it. I told the officer how I'd tripped over my bag on the way out, that the lights hadn't worked and the smoke alarms hadn't functioned. At all. He didn't have any information about Margaret, and we were told to clear the area. We went to the edge of the activity and stood looking as others were treated and released from questioning. We stayed an hour. We didn't see Margaret, but maybe she'd been one of the ones taken away in an ambulance. I called Damian.

In half an hour, he'd picked us up and had us tucked into the suite. There were three bedrooms; when we found Margaret, there'd be room for her too. Damian showered with me, washing my hair and conditioning it, washing off the ash, careful not to wet my bandages. I was too shaky to do a good job of it myself. Then he dried me off, got me into my nightgown, and carried me to bed. I was still shaking, off and on, until I fell asleep. When I woke up, Damian hovered over me and insisted on making me breakfast. I called my office and left Doug a message, telling him I wouldn't be in today, then called my uncle, leaving him a brief message too. Then as Damian scrambled some eggs, I got some clothes and took them into Aslyn. She was just coming out of her bathroom, looking as traumatized as I felt. "Damian's making breakfast," I husked, and we clutched hands as we walked to the dining room. Damian came straight over to give her a hug, then seated us at the table, serving us soft breakfast foods that wouldn't hurt our throats.

"I'm going to go out for a few things for you," he told us. "Make a list, honey. Aslyn, I want you to stay here as long as you'd like." He got on the phone to tell his dad he was going to be late, and I made a list, including Aslyn's favorite toiletries and our clothing and shoe sizes. I'd been sleeping in socks, but Aslyn had been barefoot.

"Will you be ok by yourselves?" he asked, kneeling beside me and kissing my fingers. I nodded and smoothed his hair. "Ok, I'll be back as soon as I can, darling," he said, taking the list and hurrying out the door.

As the door clicked behind him, I tried Margaret's phone again and left a message, telling her where we were, that we were OK and to call me.

"She knows where you'd go," Aslyn croaked, and we looked at each other for a moment. I got my messenger bag and retrieved the card the police officer had given me. I was transferred twice before talking to a detective, telling him we were looking for our roommate. He took Margaret's name and had me email him a picture of her, telling me he'd check and call back.

We sat in silence until the phone rang.