Things That Go Boom…

Slipping through the trash strewn alley, Cy moved from shadow to shadow, a ghost in the rain-misted night. She was literally born to do this, a living weapon crafted by masters at the art. Lithe and tall, she was dressed in a body suit of flowing blacks and greys, black hooded mask and toed tabilike shoes. Her eyes were blue, cold and hard betraying no emotion, only a fierce sense of purpose. In her wake, two over-eager gang boys lay cooling in crimson pools. They'd made the mistake of seeing her. Acing them had been too easy, she'd cut through the dough boys like paper. It wasn't even fun and over way to quick. Maybe if her brother had been with her she could taken more time. But Rock was hanging back, doing back.

Her objective was a small bar. A woman was supposed to die there tonight. Obsidian had contracted her death, and that made it priority that it not happen. Hours of industrious Net digging had uncovered the contract and the killer. He called himself Utility. A specielist in metahuman assassination. No one had ever seen him, if it was a he. Spotting the sign, Malone's, she descended some stairs leading beloe street level to a dank doorway. The door refused to open.

She looked the door over slowly and glanced into the street. She reached out and tugged on the bond with her twin. She made the hand signal for explosives, then moved to take Rock's spot on back while he performed one of his specialities.

Circe was surprised to find the mind on other side was mentally attuned, active at some crude level. Shit, Circe thought to herself, immediately looking at the briefcase. She put it on the ground and rapidly backed away, trying to find a rear exit to the bar.

Rock felt the mental tug of her sister, a faint mental caress that brought a smile to his face. This feel from her signalled action, of one sort or another.

Focusing a moment, Rock lashed out with a quick snap kick to the door, screaming a kiai. It buckled,the impact ringing like thunder in the confined space. The door hung from its frame, bent in, but still intact. Another should do it.

Circe saw the door buckle, the metal caving under some tremendous force. The Doll just stared, mindless as ever.

Damn. I should have known, Circe swore mentally. She backed off even more, seeking cover in case there would be a barrage of gunfire.

Rock balanced himself and kicked at the door again, wanting to send it flying forward into the room once it had broken free. Close in, he thought to Cy. Cy nodded slowly and moved to get into a better room-storming position.

The door exploded inward, flying off its hinges and taking most of the frame with it in a shower of cheap plascrete. Inside, the bar was empty but for two figures, a woman in a dark suit, looking over the scene with silver orb eyes and another woman, slightly taller, standing more to the rear.

Cy rolled into the room going left to make room for Rock. Her eyes scanned the room, assessing everything. Which way will Obsidian strike? The target, wet work operative named Circe. Tall, blonde, attractive, tattooed. There.

Across the room, Cy spotted her. The woman backed away, not fearfully, but cautious – a professional. Her eyes met Cy's, and there was a brief link. Their minds met, and fear flooded from the young assasin's mind. The cold terror of a trapped animal. She paled, then fought it down. This was nothing. A mind trick like Obsidian tried to break them with. A glance to her brother strengthened her resolve.

Fighter. Good for her, bad for me. Circe's eyes narrowed slightly, trying to evaluate what they were trying to do.

Rock reaches out to Cy. I'm here…let's go.

Cy nodded and moved to a flanking postion, noting all entrances to the place. A quick hand sign asking Rock about traps or explosives in the building itself.

The woman with the silver eyes smiled slightly. Rock moved into the room, taking a position up against the opposite wall, scanning the room and trying to evaluate any potential danger spots.

Cy read the woman's features quickly. They matched the hazy vid she had dug up on the Net. Circe.

Cy signaled her brother, 'target acquired'.

Rock gave the next signal…'proceed'.

Circe's gaze drifted between the two figures. One slim, relatively small, but lithe as an alley cat. The fighter. Muscles was much larger, rock hard body cleanly defined under urban cammos. A meta or borg and boosted out of his mind. They had matching ice blue eyes, cool and feral.

Shit. Warp, I sure could use that little trick of yours right now, Circe thought to herself.

Circe's mental sense told her more. There was connection,a link of some sort between them. It was simple almost crude byt there and strong. Both metas? Wonderful. Circe quickly ran through a list of people who were dissatisfied with her work, and who would have had the resources to hire the two. And why.

The Doll stepped to the door. Circe immediately cast her mind at the Doll again, looking for another routine. Some other thoughts which may have now surfaced as the first program was complete.

Reaching into the dolls simple mind Circe got one word. "Boom." Circe hit the floor behind the bar, going for the best cover she could get.

Cy shook off the debris, feeling for her brother and finding only the faintest of traces. She looked over the flaming ruins of the bar. Rock lay by the door, torn and bleeding. Making an anguished animal sound, she ran to him, patting out the flames. His meta body had taken the damage but was ravaged, burned and broken. She needed to get him away. His healing factor might save him, had to. She hefted him, grunting at the strain. The outer wall was nearly gone. Cy pulled her brother through the sputtering flames, tears, blood and sweating covering her face, making her snarl of effort all the more feral.

Circe felt herself coming to, her head pulsed. Her body felt like one huge bruise. Then a lead weight dropped on her, sending her back out again.

Jennifer was looking up at the ceiling, smoke drifted in her field of vision. Sitting up, she looked around. Warp lay nearby on a pile of rubble. Under that, she saw… a woman. Little more than a bit of blonde hair, face and hand. Crackling, flames. Jennifer crawled over to them, staying below the smoke, and nudged Warp. He came to groggily.

"Remind me never to do that again. C'mon, you gotta get up, there's someone buried under here." She shook her head, trying to clear it, then began digging the woman out.

Warp began frantically pull the rest of the rubble off of Circe. "Man, you must be some kind of jinx, Jenny. First you call Paragon on me, and then you make me miswarp and injure a friend." The woman was breathing, but out cold. Jennifer saw she was a blonde woman, tall and lithe. A fine, intricate vine tattoo ran over her face, disappearing into her hairline. The smoke was growing thicker, almost choking now.

"Please!" Her tone was scornful. "Unless you create an explosion and fire every time you miswarp, I didn't make you hurt her. This happened before we got here." She coughed on the increasing levels of smoke. "We've gotta get her and us out of here, now."

"Jenny stay close. Let's get out of here – and no funny moves this time, Jenny." Warp struggled to lift Circe but his muscles, his body felt leaden. The smoke burned his eyes, choked him… couldn't concentrate…

"Here, *cough* I'll get her legs…" Crouching low, Jen grabbed the unconscious woman just above the knees, attempting to help her brother.

Together they hefted the unconscious woman, trying to keep below the smoke. They were behind steel bar… now dented and fire-scorched. The room was a complete ruin, everything smashed and smouldering. The door had been blown out along with most of the wall. Path clear they started for it scrambling over rubble. They emerged in a stairwell leading up to the street, misting rain fell on them, a street light shining down on them. A little above them a lithe figure in urban cammos stood, supporting another, much larger man, dressed identically. Above them stood four figures… silhouetted in the light, one chuckling.

This has got to be the single worst fucking night I've had in the last decade, Jen snarled to herself. This is not good. They must be waiting for her. Her gaze flickered to the tattooed woman. "Set her down," she whispered to Warp, "unless you can get us all out of here… in a hurry."

The active one in the cammos arms snake out, making two quick motions. There was a pause then the chuckles grew into a gurgling scream as red mists in the air. The lead figure fell back, still screaming, pleading to God as he fumbled at his midsection.

Jen fell back into a defensive posture. Without backup… She glanced at her brother. Reliable backup, that is, I'm not about to get in the way of whatever that is. Still… Her light flickered briefly, and a fragile-looking shell appeared around her.

Warp looked over the figures, the big guy looked familiar. Rock? He fumbled for his needler as Circe moaned softly apparently coming to.

Circe tried to screw her eyes shut against the painful light and tried to focus on the face. When I find out who set me up, I am going to strip his fucking mind and make him wish his great grandmother had never been born. You've got some answering to do, Gideon.

Doug whispered to Circe, "It's okay, Mary, I'm here to protect you."

"D… Warp," Circe murmured groggily. "Get us out of here now. I was set up. A bomb." She turned her head away and closed her eyes. "And turn off that frigging light."

"That frigging light can't be turned off without me becoming a danger to both of you. One of the hazards of mutation." Jen continued to keep an eye on the two groups standing at the top of the stairs.

"As if I give a shit that you're a mutant," Circe muttered as she tried to sit up. "If you're not going to get me out of here, I'm going on my own." Above there was the sound of shouting and retreating foot steps. The punks hauling for a safer locale, no doubt.

What was that line…? Oh, yeah. "Bite me."

Jen moved up the steps, peeking over the edge of the stairwell to see what was going on.

Placing the larger figure against the wall, the other turned, revealing a bloodied, feral face. Her eyes went from Jennifer to behind her. Jennifer felt that odd rippling tingle she had when Warp, her brother, started using that power of his.

Jen backed away from the other's gaze. Slowly. What have I gotten myself into? Next time, Paragon, I'll listen when you tell me not to take any unnecessary risks… She risked a glance behind her. Warp was forming a portal, fading as she watched with the blonde.

You're not getting rid of me that easily, brother dear. She backed into the portal.

"Hide her well, Warp," Cy whispered. Then she turned, hefting her brother and heading for their van.

She knew she had to move. The scare she had put into the gang boys wouldn't last long. The van was near, parked to move and idling. The computer sentry would let no one access it. Rounding the edge of the alley, she saw them. Seven more of the boneheaded gang boys around the van, lounging and carrying big nasty guns. A smirk formed on Cy's face… but she did not have time. Signaling for a pick up, she backed out of sight. The van roared to life. A strangled scream was quickly cut off by a thud. Seconds later, the van pulled up for her. She hefted Rock inside, then climbed in. Soon they were on their way. Safe. Gently, carefully Cy cleaned Rock's wounds, treated them with the Comp's calm advice. Their bodies reacted oddly to speed heal drugs, Rock's in particular, so she didn't want to risk it.

She kissed him gently, then giving the computer directions, settled in beside him. Obsidian and just added to their outstanding bill.

Rock moaned quietly, shifting in his sleep, moving against her. Cy tried to relax and let the wave pass from her. It was hard to let o of the killing rush once it started, at times she truly did not want to. Were they just machines? The thought bothered her at times like this. Programmed with an urge to kill and little else… perhaps a bug in their programs called free will.

A few hours later, Cy awoke. She listened to the sounds around her and felt Rock's warmth beside her. He had woken a few times, but she sent him back to sleep. His wounds were healing.

She slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him, and walked naked to the computer terminal. She checked their messages left in a myriad of places by contacts, and others who worked towards Obsidian's downfall. The last had been hard to find and oh so carefully researched. Still, neither side fully trusted the other.

Trust. Cy turned the word over in her mind. There was only one person she trusted. Her gaze turned to her brother. He slept in his usual position when she wasn't beside him. Arms outstretched, flat on his back, legs spread. The blanket covered only his lower half; one muscled leg stuck out. His finely sculptured chest was rising and falling in a deep rhythm.

She smiled softly, the look softening her usual expression. She remembered their first discovery of their bodies. They had been around 11. Rock had been touching himself for some time. Cy remembered lying in her bed, listening to him, feeling a little of what he was feeling. She had sat up and openly watched him. Then, abruptly, they were touching, exploring.

Cy shifted back into the here and now, feeling arousal and need rush through her. She forced herself back to the computer, frowning over the last message. It was from a long time contact, one of hers, actually. One she had given them with her last breath. Cy acknowledged, then put away the seething anger that accompanied that thought.

So someone was looking for them. But that was all he knew. Someone besides Obsidian. She typed a return message. "How are the kids?" Pressing the send command, she sat back. He could answer in several ways each meaning a different thing. "Fine, how are yours?" meant "Let's meet." "Good. The youngest one got her first tooth," meant "Dangerous to look further at the moment." And "Great. Had to ground the oldest though, little scamp," meant "Still looking."

She sighed, again wondering what Warp had to do with it. And if he realized how deep he had stepped. She slipped back into bed after checking with the security program. She ran her hands over Rock's muscular chest, enjoy the feel of him beneath her fingers.

Rock stirred, eyes opening and meeting his sister's clear blue. No words were needed. She felt as he did, he as she did. Reaching up he stroked her cheek, the motion causing the slightest burst of pain. He ignored it. Large fingers traced the almost delicate line of her jaw, brushed her lips with utmost care. Hands that could crush bone like glass cupped her cheek softly and drew her close. They kissed. Cy tasted faint traces of blood on his lips.