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Belle of the Ball

Annual Number 2

Super Heroines Gone Wild, Central America!

By E. E. Nalley

Puerto Cortés, I would discover, was a blue collar kind of town whose primary business was the massive port where just about everything made or grown in Central America made its way to the US of A by ship. It didn’t have the glitzy flare that Acapulco had, or the touristy feel of the Bahamas, though being right on the Caribbean Sea made it spectacularly beautiful. A still unconscious Ginnevia and I arrived about two in the afternoon to the delight of the locals, no doubt aided by my skin tight costume.

Of course I was the only one there who spoke English.

After a farce of Mel Brooks proportions that practically included a rendition of the classic ‘Who’s on first’ one of the local boys ran to get his mom who evidently spoke some English. By the time she got there I had become Señorita Confederales, which given how things could have gone I guess I could live with. Mama brought a policeman with her and once we’d gotten straightened out that I wasn’t in his country illegally so much as I’d been kidnapped, things went a little smoother.

He put us up at a hotel off the beach, well I actually paid for it, while he did some phone calling on the hotel’s nickel. The staff of the hotel was much better schooled in the only language I spoke and they were only too happy to have some clothes brought over from a local boutique for us. They were happier to charge it to the room, of course, but I was able to get out of my fighting gear and into this obnoxiously loud floral print sun dress that I hoped wouldn’t be leaving its outline in sunburn.

Ginnevia must have really strained her teleport as she was still out of it by the time the policeman’s lieutenant arrived at the absolutely lovely bungalow the hotel had rented us. Once all that was sorted out there seemed to be nothing to do but wait for the boys to get here and go home.

Which would be something of a shame, considering I’m in this practically undiscovered stretch of the Caribbean that had all the beauty of a resort and none of the pesky tourists. This called for dramatic action.

I took Ginnevia into the bathtub and turned the shower on cold, full blast.

What she said in waking up I won’t repeat as it wouldn’t look at all nice in print, but once she was calm and dry again I filled her in on things. More importantly, she agreed that this was way too good an opportunity to pass up. So we did what any good super heroines stranded in paradise waiting for back up would have done.

We went shopping.

* * *

Now, as I have already detailed a shopping excursion or three in this narrative I won’t bog this down with the gory details. Suffice to say that the exchange rate between the US Dollar and the Honduran Lempira is extremely favorable and Ginnevia and I had entire new wardrobes to take home with us.

* * *

The boys arrived at dusk while Ginnevia and I were indulging ourselves at the pool of the hotel which was still quite warm thanks to the local heat and being so close to the equator. Ed started to say something snappy as he caught sight of me, but I was in the process of exiting the pool, water running down my oh so shapely form if I do say so myself, modesty only preserved by the briefest of string bikinis.

You know, I never thought I’d be pleased to report I can reduce a man to drooling. Go figure.

Both the boys were wearing their uniforms and I could feel the glower of Geoffrey through that macabre mask of his as I strolled up and closed Ed’s mouth for him. “I didn’t think you had any civilian clothing,” he started flatly in that ‘I’m the adult and you’re in trouble’ tone.

“And when we spoke last, that was true,” I replied all sugar and spice. “Time waits for no man and all that.”

“So…you went on a shopping trip in Dr. Destruction’s back yard?” he wanted to know.

“Oh, don’t be so stiff, Eagle,” I protested. “Everybody knows that the only reason Dr. D. has managed to hold onto his little fiefdom is that he doesn’t piss in his own back yard. We’re probably safer here than back home. Besides, how did ya’ll want me to spend the time waiting? Cowering a corner in fear of mah life?”

I could almost feel the smirk behind that mask of his. “I see your hand has already healed up.”

Leave it to the American Eagle to take the wind right out of my sails. “Ah suppose Ah owe you an apology for ya’ll getting sucked into this. You could have warned some of us though!” Geoffrey shook his head as he looked about and, seeing we had the veranda to ourselves took off his helmet.

“And risk further disruption of the time stream? Not likely.” He pressed a button on his gauntlet and his entire form became indistinct for a moment then he was dressed in a pair of cabana shorts and a Hawaiian shirt that was so loud I’m sure it was disturbing my dad’s TV time back in Canton. He caught me staring and chuckled. “Why should Cavalry be the only one with a quick change option? I took a closer look at Albert’s multi-dimensional gizmo and fiddled with it until I found a pocket dimension where I could store the working suit. I combined that with an energy to matter converter to generate new clothes or I could use the suit I keep in that dimension with the armor. I’d be happy to make you one.”

“Would you please?” I asked in my best ‘I’ve been good all year for Christmas’ voice.

At that point Cavalry finally got himself free from whatever depraved sexual fantasy I’d sent him into and walked over to hug me. “I was worried sick,” he finally managed.

“Nice to see you too,” I murmured into his chiseled chest.

“So,” started Geoffrey as he made himself at home in a chaise lounge. “I guess we have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Ah am sorry about infecting you, Geoffrey. Ah wouldn’t wish this on mah worst enemy.”

“Don’t be,” he chuckled. “My infection spurred a lot of good changes with how the government dealt with McKimpson. Because of me, every peace officer in the US was inoculated with McKimpson 2A which certainly had the added benefit of saving lives.”

Cavalry snorted. “It was probably Albert’s crowning glory.” I looked at him quizzically. “My dad the super villain is the patent holder for M2A. How do you think he got to be rich? After Bob McKimpson disappeared, Albert was the leading expert on the disease. You can guess why he was so obsessed with it.”

“The real question,” interjected Ginnevia from her floating lounge, “is what is he going to do with this new, perfected strain?”

“For now,” Geoffrey said after signaling to the bartender. “He seems content to submit to the rule of law for a change. We took him into custody without incident back at the vault.”

“Is he in jail?” I demanded, nearly dreading the answer.

“No,” groused Cavalry with more than a trace of bitterness in his voice. “We couldn’t charge him with stealing the Time Runner without admitting we still had it. Or that we’d lost it sometime back in 1985. He’s out on bail still.”

I shook my head a bit ruefully. “Ah guess there really is no justice.”

“You’re awfully young to be that cynical,” Geoffrey chided me as he broke open his beer and took a pull. “More to the point, just now Albert is the least of our concerns. Tell me what happened after you found yourself in Dr. Destruction’s lair.”

So I told him that story and I’ll admit I relished the look of surprise and genuine admiration on his face when I got to the part of how I’d effected my escape. When I’d gotten up to my arrival at Puerto Cortés he nodded and signaled I could stop. “I was afraid of this,” he muttered.

“What?” I demanded, more than a little worried.

“Destruction didn’t mean to keep you prisoner,” Geoffrey told me while catching the nod Ed offered of his opinion. “He wanted to see how you’d escape. That gave him an idea of what your powers were as well as how you use them.”

“Not to mention the built in IQ and problem solving tests,” groused Ginnevia.

“It can only mean he’s figured out where and when you come from,” finished Cavalry. “We took him by surprise at the Federal Reserve, both me for being completely unknown to him and you for displaying powers you shouldn’t have and not being pregnant. He must have been stewing on it for years. Since he snatched you out of whatever that gizmo they returned us was he knows about this weird little loop we’ve taken.”

“He generally arranges some kind of test of new heroes,” said Geoffrey. “The flashier the better and it’s served him pretty well so far. I suppose you can consider this your initiation. Welcome to the club.”

“Lucky me,” I groused as I sat down on the lounge next to Geoffrey’s. “Any other initiations I should be worried about?”

“Hazing is the least of your worries,” chuckled Geoffrey. “We should be on our guard though, so if you two have squeezed enough vacation into this rescue mission, we should be heading back.”

I pouted, and, I’ll admit it, I couldn’t help it. “What’s the rush? Couldn’t we head back tomorrow or something? Besides, who put you in charge? Ed is the president…” I trailed off in deference to his sly smile and sage nodding.

“Yes, Ed is the President. And I am Government Liaison. As per article twelve, section four of our charter, and I quote, ‘At any time when the President of this organization shall be under investigation for a violation of the articles in this charter, the Government Liaison shall serve as President Pro Tem until such time as the President be cleared of suspicion or step down, or be removed.’”

I angrily crossed my arms and, the suit being wet and me not being used to having to wear a top when swimming, I nearly yanked it off. As it was, all of them, the bartender included, got a royal eyeful. I think Geoffrey had to work to remember he was a married man. Once I was ‘contained’ again I demanded, “What investigation?”

“Breech of security in the trophy vault,” muttered Ginnevia who was evidently privy to some conversation back at HQ I had missed.

The American Eagle seemed very pleased with himself as he pulled on his beer in his loud shirt and grinned at me. Just f-ing perfect.

* * *

Seeing as the group had already paid for the bungalow for the night, Geoffrey, ever the practical one, agreed that we would spend the night and leave the next morning. He called over to the field where our jet (we have a jet?) was standing by and filled them in on the news.

Ed and I retired to the room we selected at the bungalow and I made myself at home in the hot tub the room was equipped with while Ed tried his hand at bar tending at the mini-bar. Did I mention I made sure to snag the nicest room of the bungalow? He brought over a pair of daiquiris and joined me in the tub, carefully so as not to over flow it.

“Now, I could get used to this kind of emergency rescue,” he announced as he got his tail settled and began to go through the rituals to get a cigar going.

“Beats the snot out of our usual fair,” I agreed with him around an appreciative sip of his mixology. “But, Ah have to wonder just how much hot water ya’ll are in. How much of what Geoffrey said was true?”

“All of it,” he admitted in his matter of fact tone. “The only reason I’m not in jail is I didn’t have a chance to act on my musings, I could only react to Sovereign trying his musings.” He took a pull off his cigar and blew a smoke ring. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it; I’ll probably lose a day’s pay at worst.”

I took another sip of his concoction and groused without real venom, “Meanwhile Geoffrey gets to yank mah chain a bit. That’s just perfect.” I would have said more but Ed’s pager began to beep. He carefully reached over and flipped it open, making sure it couldn’t get wet.

“Yes?” he asked in a nearly eager tone. I was almost ready to be offended. “I see. And you’re sure? There’s no room for doubt? I understand. Thank you.” He returned the device to the table and sighed, which the already strange conversation he’d had got me even more worked up.

“What was that all about?” I demanded.

“Long story,” he hedged as he reached out and pulled me into his lap. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”

“Water is not a lubricant,” I reminded him with a smile.

“I should be so lucky,” he said with a chuckle. He leaned forward slightly and kissed me with a tenderness that frankly surprised me. Being this close to him I knew he wasn’t exactly ready for action, but then for him, even after the proverbial cold shower he would still be intimidating wearing nothing but a smile. “This is going to seem all kinds of sudden,” he whispered as he withdrew. “But I can’t think of any other way to tell you how much you mean to me. So,” he said after a huge sigh, “Jennifer, will you marry me?”

I about dropped my drink into the hot tub. “What?”

“I know, I know, I just can’t help it. I can’t imagine you not being in my life, Jen. I want you there, always. And I want you to know I’ll always be there for you.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“More than I ever have been about anything,” he told me with such conviction I knew he meant it right down to his toes. It just seemed fantastically odd that here I was, naked with a man I had every intention of having sex with later on who was also my best friend who had just proposed marriage to me.

I suppose my natural sense of humor kicked in as a defense mechanism. “Are you trying to make an honest woman out of me, Mr. Filby?” He stared at me with that deer in the headlights expression that I’d come to associate with me stumbling into what ever he was trying to be discreet about. “What?” I demanded.

“Well, you see, Belle, the Time Cops dropped a little bomb on me during my debriefing. And I wasn’t sure if they were on the level, or not, so I had Geoffrey rig up a scanner when we arrived. He just checked the results and that was him on the phone.”

“What are you getting at, Ed?”

“Belle…Jennifer…you’re pregnant.”

I stared at him for a moment, my whole world swimming and swirling like a bad 70’s lava lamp. As my vision began to tunnel I found one ray of hope that I clung to when I told him, “This isn’t funny.”

I already knew what his answer was going to be by the expression on his long face as he looked me back in the eyes. My memory won’t supply the fact if I’ve ever described Cavalry’s eyes, but they’re magnificent and honest and always just a tad sad. “I’m not joking,” he whispered. I heard my drink fall into the water as the world slipped sideways.

Yes, Virginia, even super heroines faint.

* * *

“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Edward Filby!”

And that’s as simple of a thing that set me off. I was leaning on Ed’s arm as he led me into the ball room of the Marriott Marquis Hotel in down town. I was certain I’d never looked as beautiful as I did at that moment when something as simple as an introduction set my mental gears turning. I was in a ball room wearing a dress that seemed to have no end as Ed handed me off to my dad and suddenly I was dancing with my father.

Everyone was staring, friends, classmates, enemies, and strangers, here we are in the center of this parquet floored ball room and I was dancing with my father. But, before I could protest I was forced by the introduction to realize I wasn’t me any more. I’d spent my whole life being Jim Anderson, but I hadn’t been him for months.

Before I’d really gotten used to being Jennifer Anderson, suddenly I wasn’t her either. Now I wasn’t defined by me or what I did or didn’t do. Now I was just a wife and a mother. What goals or dreams I had didn’t matter any more.

I was Mrs. Edward Filby.

I didn’t even have my own name anymore.

Everything had been taken away from me. My gender, my future and now my very identity; I was a non-person; a part of someone else.

My feet stuck to the floor as everyone began to point and stare at me. Dad wasn’t strong enough to move me and nearly tripped when my superior strength snatched him to a halt. He looked down at me with a frown I normally associated with being in trouble and growled, “Mrs. Filby, you’re making a scene.”

“Dad…”

“Don’t you dad me! Now get with the program, Mrs. Filby!”

“Don’t call me that!” I shouted at him as I pushed him away. I was upset and I didn’t realize how hard I’d pushed him and he sailed into the buffet table sending the punchbowl flying and a shower of red, blood-like liquid all over the room. It was like the prom scene out of Carrie. I couldn’t take the shame of having destroyed my own wedding reception so I shot into the sky, minor details of ceilings and roofs not withstanding.

* * *

They say that dreams are the gateway to the subconscious, though I believe mine are something of a toll road. It’s bad enough to have had a little issue with sleep walking when I was younger, but now I evidently would have to find some way of dealing with sleep flying.

I awoke with a start about seventy feet in the air due mostly to a tropical breeze that whispered across my skin. It did so because the sheet that had been keeping breezes from my skin was now gently falling back to earth towards the hole I’d punched in the bungalow’s roof. I had vague recollections of being in a hot tub with Ed and being told that I was pregnant but those thoughts made me extremely queasy so I shied away from them.

My hand sought out my flat belly and some part of me tried to sense the new and distinct person that was growing inside of me.

The very thought of there being someone else sharing my body was disturbing and yet strangely compelling all at once. Obviously there was no way I could sense this new life as a quick bit of mental math told me my last period was only twenty seven days ago. If I was, in fact pregnant, I was less than a week so; or rather I was technically twenty years and a week.

A manic kind of laugh escaped me as my morose sense of humor brought up the fact that I should call the Guinness people about this new record length pregnancy… Geoffrey came soaring up from the front of the bungalow as I flirted with this delicate line between sanity and madness, his eyes intent on the horizon. “Who is it?” he snapped, looking for enemies as he reached conversational level. “Dr. Destruction? Did you get a good look?”

“It’s a little early to be picking names, don’t you think?” I managed around a giggle fit.

“Oh,” he murmured as he took me into his arms and folded those metal wings of his around us. I was about to protest him being so familiar when the cold of that metal uniform made me realize something truly terrifying.

I was flying in sight of everyone as naked as the day I was born.

“Easy, Belle, Easy,” Geoffrey soothed me before I could really get a world class panic on and probably hurt him trashing about. “It will be alright.”

“I’m naked,” I whimpered, “and I’m pregnant!”

He pulled what looked like a Pierre Cardin wrist watch from a pouch on his belt and put it around my wrist. His gauntlet pressed the button on the side and it felt like a trillion ants were crawling on and over every inch of my skin, then it was over. I looked down to find myself in my uniform right down to mom’s utility belt. Geoffrey pulled away slight and pressed his gauntlet causing his helmet to disappear to be replaced by a combination mask and ‘do rag which I took to be his ‘casual’ mask. “Happy mothers day,” he told me with a chuckle.

“Rub it in, why don’t you!” I shouted at him, thoughts of thanking him for his kindness and speed whisked from my head. “Ah ought to knock you flat you sarcastic son of a bitch!”

“Will that make you feel better?” he asked in a surprisingly even tone. “If so, by all means, beat me up.”

I’m honestly not sure what it was I was looking for from him; comfort, perhaps or at least sympathy at my plight. But his flippancy had me seeing red and before I knew what I was doing my hand had made a fist and I swung at him intending to have him choke on his own teeth. He ducked out of the way and locked up my arm behind my back the way I’d broken Tribsa’s arm yesterday. I squirmed and tried to reverse the hold he had on me but in the air I lacked the leverage to pull away and evidently his suit had some kind of strength augmentation that let him keep the hold.

“We feeling better, yet?” he hissed in my ear. “Nothing like a good brawl to place innocent lives in danger just so we can work out our feelings, right?”

“Are you trying to piss me off?” I yelled at him.

“I’m trying to get you to realize the way things are!” he countered as he suddenly released the hold and flipped me around to face him. “You are a rare and wonderful person, Jennifer, whom God has blessed with the greatest joy and responsibility this life has to offer.”

“Ah…” My voice closed up over whatever protest I was trying to offer as his words slowly penetrated the red, angry haze I perceived the world through.

“You are that brave girl who stood up for what was right even when you didn’t have any super powers and the bullets being shot at you could kill you.” He gently grabbed my shoulders and squeezed them to make me look him in the eye. “You are the hero who saved a mother and her children from a fiery death that a mad man carelessly caused and was content to leave them to. Not to mention a rookie cop who didn’t have the sense to help you save lives.”

He gave me his lopsided grin as he arrived at his point to hammer it home. “You, Jennifer Anderson, are my hero.”

Believe it or not, that actually got me tearing up. As I sniffed to keep my sinuses open, I couldn’t help but say, “Now Ah know you’re bullshitting me.”

Geoffrey held up his hand in a salute I hadn’t seen in years. “Scout’s honor.” His grin re-appeared before he finished, “And before you ask, yes I made Eagle Scout.”

“How am Ah supposed to deal with this?” I whispered; the enormity of what I was facing finally sinking in with all the finality of that bottom of the ninth 2 out strike three call.

“The way every parent does, one day at a time,” he assured me. “Jennifer, if you can face down the greatest and most terrible villain this world has to offer, how can parenthood frighten you?”

“Geoffrey,” I told him, hugging him for finally letting me see the Geoffrey Graham that all the other members talked about. That square deal giving, Joe Everyman who had kind of tripped into the superhero business and was dealing with it the best way he knew how. “Ah am so scared. Ah just barely have me figured out, how am Ah supposed to be responsible for someone else?”

“You love them,” he whispered back. “So long as you can do that, everything else takes care of itself.”

His pager started beeping, spoiling our little moment of détente but he kept his eyes on mine as he removed it and flicked it on. “Eagle.”

Ed’s voice drifted from the tinny speaker and that brought my eyes down to see him staring up at us through the hole in the ceiling I’d made. “I seem to have a new skylight,” he said with a chuckle. “You fly guys going to let us grounders in on the conversation or what?”

“I think that can be arranged,” Geoffrey told him with a chuckle. He flipped closed the communicator and asked me, “Ready to face the world?”

“Mah friends at least,” at told him a bit sheepishly. “About the roof…”

“Don’t worry about it,” he interrupted quickly. “It’ll come out of your check.”

What a pal.

* * *

There really wasn’t a whole lot more to say that night that my moment of catharsis with Geoffrey hadn’t covered. He and Ginnevia managed to collect all the pieces of the roof and then some gizmo he had put them back together like I hadn’t gone through it at 300mph.

Geoffrey let me know this was my one ‘freebie’ as far as mess cleaning went and we all retired out our rooms once again.

Ed and I made up for my panic attack in ways that didn’t require words, but I gave him probably the most important word I’d ever uttered in my entire life.

I told him, “Yes.”

He was so happy he did things to me that had me repeating it for several hours that night, but that’s between me and my future husband.

* * *

The next morning dawned bright and inexplicably beautiful for me to be coming to grips with my first full day of being ‘expecting’. My head was miles away as we rode back to the airport in the hotel’s van. Somehow I had to break the news to mom and dad, plan a wedding while I still didn’t look like a beached whale or have my and Ed’s child attend our marriage ceremony. That certainly wasn’t an appealing thought.

But then, neither was having to tell dad he was about to be a grandpa.

I waited by the van while the others saw to the final arrangements of getting our flight ready, content to watch over the suitcases full of clothes Ginnevia and I had bought. I started to get a cigar out, but then thoughts about what it might do to my unborn child had me second guessing myself so I decided against it.

As I was putting it back into my traveling case a gravelly voice behind me forced itself into my jumbled thoughts and sent a chill down my spine. “If you don’t want a last smoke, how about a blindfold?” I turned just in time to see a fist come into my peripheral vision that connected to my left cheek and sent me flying a good fifty feet before I skidded to a stop on the asphalt, ruining my new dress.

As I struggled up into a sitting position I heard him grunt as he picked up the van, “I told you this wasn’t over, carrot top!” My finger mashed the button to change me into my uniform just as the van slammed into me, knocking me further into the taxiway of the airport, much to the panic of the other travelers. With a single bound, Powerball had closed the distance between us and snatched the smoldering wreckage of the van off. “I don’t know what you did to turn Albert into such a pussy, Red, but you can bet it’s not going to work on me!”

Now, I like to think I’m a pretty even tempered person, all things considered. When I fly off the handle, I generally have a damned good reason. I had no idea how or even why Powerball had tracked us down to Honduras, but there was a part of me that knew this particular battle royal had been brewing since Powerballs’ abortive break out of Sovereign from the Cobb County ADC.

Quite honestly, getting to beat the tar out of someone was just what the doctor ordered at that time of my life. Yagimura-sensei had altered a number of his Hopkedo moves to take advantage of my new abilities, flight being chief among them. While still prone, I stuck out with my foot right into the spot where it would do the most damage; Powerball’s family jewels. As he doubled over in pain, I spun my flight into a cartwheel and kicked him solidly in his ugly head that had a visually interesting double cartwheel that left me in a standing position and him sprawled on the tarmac. “If you’re looking to get emasculated, Randy, ya’ll came to the right spot!” I sneered at him.

His eyes actually went red as he came up swinging, though he’d telegraphed his punch so badly I caught him mid-swing and we glared at each other for a moment. “It’s on, bitch,” he growled as he feinted with his right hand before landing a pretty solid kick to my thigh.

Now, despite what you may have picked up from our previous tussles, Powerball is actually a pretty dangerous fighter. What he lacks in finesse he makes up for in brute force and a jaw of granite. I used the force of his kick to my thigh to spin completely about and land a kick with everything I had to his throat.

That blow would have killed a normal man, and probably crippled most paranormals, but to Powerball it just knocked him back twenty feet or so into a baggage train that sent luggage flying in every direction. “Sugah, ya’ll ain’t seen me as a bitch yet, but you’re about to!” I shouted after him.

Before he could recover Cavalry came flying out of the terminal to land on his chest and began to rain blows that were probably well past justifiable force. He was shouting a stream of obscenities that were almost incoherent which probably boiled down to, “What are you thinking laying a hand on my wife?”

Randal managed to get to his feet, despite Ed’s best efforts and managed to get a handful of Cavalry’s uniform. “Stay out of this, pony boy!” he shouted. “This is between me and Red!” Then he threw my future husband back in the direction he’d come. As luck would have it, right into Ginnevia who could have put a stop to this little donnybrook with some mental chicanery.

This of course would have cost me my whipping boy so that suited me just fine.

I quickly reached down and dug my fingers into the tarmac, hoping to lift up a section and whip it, rug like, the way they do in the comic books to cost Powerball his feet again. I don’t know why I thought this would work, other than the fact I am, after all, a super heroine, but all I got for my efforts was a roughly square section of concrete.

Oh well.

Powerball charged me again so I swung my bat of concrete into his jaw of granite. Randal turned a complete summersault around my blow and landed flat on his back staring up at both me and the stars I’d caused him to see. “Had enough yet, tough guy?” I jeered at him.

He kicked both feet out and flipped back to his feet, using the momentum to strike me in the small of the back. “You wish!” he shouted after me as I sailed into the wing of a 727 I desperately hoped I wouldn’t have to pay for.

Pulling myself out of the mess I’d made of the airplane’s wing I realized there was too much equipment around that was extremely expensive. I had to move the battle to place where the innocent wouldn’t get caught up in our grudge match and the bill wouldn’t bankrupt me. “Catch me if you can, lard ass!” I hollered back at him and took off, angling away from both the airport and the city proper.

Powerball, as predictable as ever, took the bait and leapt after me.

We collided mid-air and I used the energy of our impact to speed up my own flight out to a pasture area where the only things that would be destroyed would be the trees and Randal’s face. Once I was sure of where he’d end up, I got a hold of him and threw him while screaming to a halt mid-air. The change in velocity was too much for him and he sailed into a thicket coming to a painful looking stop in an oak tree.

I followed up as quickly as possible with a flurry of punches that literally had him bouncing off one blow into the next. He finally recovered his wits enough to block one and scream, “I won’t be beaten by you!” as he landed a punch that sent me sailing. After I skidded to a stop in the dirt I struggled back to my feet and wiped the trail of blood from my split lip off my chin.

I had given better than I’d gotten as Randal had one eye swelling shut that would be a beauty of a black eye in a day or two and I’d probably broken his nose based on the blood flow. “You already have been,” I spat back. “Three times by mah count, sugah!”

He charged me, as I hoped he would, seeing as I was standing next to a fairly sizable boulder I intended to make use of. At the last moment he swung and I ducked, locking his arm up while tripping him as well. I rode him down to add my practically insignificant weight to the impact but, the damage as they say was done. Randal’s face was arrested by the boulder which split with a deafening thunder crack and Powerball had been grounded. When I rolled him over he was out cold, but breathing.

“The South has risen again,” I chuckled to myself as I fitted Randal with his suppression cuffs. I was a little saddened I didn’t have much of an audience to witness my triumph, but for once, the bad guy didn’t get away.

* * *

By the time I had gotten back with Powerball over my shoulder like a deer hunter hiking out of the wilderness with her prize, Geoffrey had managed to convince the local officials they didn’t need to call out the Army. Ed was back on his feet and helping to re-sort the luggage I had scattered from the baggage train, but there was no sign of Ginnevia.

While I hadn’t expected a standing ovation upon my return to the battle site, there was some scattered applause that the big lug was definitely the worse for wear and on his way to jail. The Eagle extracted himself from the gaggle of airport functionaries and made his way over, once more in his ‘do rag Dread Pirate Roberts mask. “What was that all about?” he asked once he got to conversational distance.

I shrugged to the distant sound of news hound photographers snapping pictures. “Beats me,” I told him. “Ah was wait’n for ya’ll to finish up inside, next thing Ah know there’s Powerball with a bee in his bonnet the size of Texas. Only conversation Ah got out of him while Ah was fixing his little red wagon was that it was personal from when Ah’d beaten him up back in the states.”

Geoffrey rubbed his chin in befuddlement. “You’re saying this was a machismo thing? That’s not like Randal. Even when he was free lancing he wasn’t the type to hold a grudge, and especially not when Sovereign was holding his leash.”

“Are we talking about the same Powerball?” I demanded. “Ever since Ah have been tussling with him, seems like it’s only gotten more personal.”

“I don’t think Randy has ever been beaten by a female before,” opined Ed as he joined the conversation from his hobby of baggage sorting. “And didn’t you tell me that Sovereign had said you’d hurt his pride being both a rookie and a chick while still cleaning his clock?”

“Where’s Mortagain?” I asked, making a point to look around for her and not seeing her. Ed jerked a thumb at the highly modified Lear Jet that was wearing the livery of the Stone Mountain Irregulars.

“On the plane,” he grunted, looking embarrassed. “I dislocated her shoulder when Powerball threw me into her.”

“Which wouldn’t have happened if you had kept your head and worked as a team,” scolded the Eagle. “This is exactly why in the law enforcement world couples are broken up at work.”

Ed crossed his rather sizable arms over his massive chest and scowled down at Geoffrey. “That issue has been settled, Liaison Officer,” he said in a tone that dared the older man to question his judgment.

“I’ll remember that the next time we get into a battle and you go cowboy and start thinking with the wrong head, Mr. President,” the Eagle glared back, nonplussed. “Today cost Mortagain a dislocated shoulder. What would you have done if she’d gotten seriously injured or even gotten somebody killed? Belle acted brilliantly, moving the fight away from a crowded area and still managing to apprehend the threat. All you have to show for today is an injured team mate and some PR damage control.”

The two men glared at each other before Geoffrey sighed noisily in disgust and stalked back to the jet, cursing under his breath. Knowing how much those words must have stung for Ed to hear I found I couldn’t help but agree with the Eagle, but I had the wisdom not to say so.

Whither that had been Geoffrey’s purpose or not, I really don’t know.

* * *

The plane ride back was rather muted, given what we had been through on the ground. Powerball woke up over the Gulf of Mexico, but was about as surly and uncommunicative as you might expect given the situation. He invoked the fifth and lawyer-ed up pretty much as soon as he came to. Frustrating, but understandable considered how often he’d been in trouble with the Law.

I spent the trip splitting my time cuddled up with Ed and taking care of Ginnevia. Geoffrey withdrew into his news/talk feeds and it was this decision that allowed me to learn of the incident that rather dramatically changed my life forever. I was just returning to my seat after fetching Ginnevia a drink that Geoffrey broke into a string of uncharacteristic profanity and sent whatever he was watching to the large screen that Ed and I were using to watch Kate and Leopold.

Before we could really raise a protest he waved us quiet and hissed, “You have to see this.”

The screen changed to a live news feed from some kind of press conference. Albert, of all people, was on the podium, wearing a pressed short sleeve shirt and a very handsome tie but no suit jacket. He was evidently in the middle of a speech to a very enthusiastic crowd. “…to you today as I will come to you every day,” he was saying, “ready to work on positive change in this country. My detractors will say that I am a menace because I suffer from Mckimpson Strain. They will say that because I have been granted mental powers I cannot be trusted within the halls of government. They will tell you that because I stood up for my rights under the Constitution of the United States I cannot be trusted to represent you.”

“Oh I don’t like where this is going,” whispered Ed as Geoffrey just scowled and stared at the screen.

Sovereign held up his left hand where a combination power inhibitor and wrist watch rode on his arm. “To them I say I wear short sleeves so that everyone can know the only influence I will wield in Washington is the will of my constituents.” The crowd broke out into thunderous applause and cheers. Once they had died down, Albert continued. “As some of you know, I am under indictment for standing up for my rights and what I believe in. To you I say that I will fight these false and unconstitutional charges with the same zeal I will fight for your rights should you choose to send me to Washington. That I will fight a government that is both out of touch with you the people it should be serving as it is drunk on its own power! I will fight those who would use the power of Eminent Domain to unlawfully take the homes you paid for in sweat and toil so that they can give that land to a developer to increase their tax revenue. I will fight those who would tell you what school your child can or cannot attend by pushing for a comprehensive school choice voucher plan that returns the power of the single greatest choice we make for our children where it belongs; to the mothers and fathers of our nation’s children.”

Once again the crowd broke into thunderous applause which brought out Albert’s dazzling smile once more. “Now, obviously I cannot tell you everything I stand for and against in one day, or even as many days as we have until the election. Fortunately, however, there is a document that I can refer you to that very eloquently spells out my positions. That document is called the Constitution of the United States of America. Our government has gotten into trouble and my friends any tech will tell you that when you get into trouble, it’s time to refer to the instructions. The Constitution is our instructions on how the government of this country should work and you can rest assured that I will follow both the letter and spirit of those instructions! Therefore, as change is something I have lived my entire life struggling for,” and here he cast a brilliant smile at his wife on the platform behind him.

“It is with humble gratitude and reverent thanks for the grace of God in the place of my birth that I announce to you my candidacy for the office of Representative of the 6^th District of Georgia to the House of Representatives of the Congress of the United States of America.”

To be honest, I don’t recall the rest of it as I couldn’t hear the screen over Randal’s nearly hysterical laughter.

* * *

Now, as you might imagine I rather thought that was the end of my little adventure in Honduras. I truly wish that were the case. I mean, after all, I’d been kidnapped, escaped, squeezed in a micro-vacation, finally understood everything that came part and parcel with my new gender, made friends with Geoffrey and still managed to fight for my life at an airport while learning my future father in law the super villain was running for congress!

Surely enough action for one issue, right?

No, of course not.

Now, in the United States, while there is no government department that oversees what you can or can’t publish (to my knowledge anyways) there is a certain level of decorum that they adhere to similar to the Standards and Practices departments that Bugs Bunny used to make fun of. You know the seven words you can’t say on TV and all that? There are many tabloids that push the edge of that particular envelope, but even they wouldn’t publish something, like oh, say photographs of a naked woman on the front cover.

I found out that that’s not necessarily the case in Central America.

When I got in to work the next day, still mentally trying to wrap my head around being pregnant and how to break the news to my folks, in addition to the news flash of my pending nuptials, I find that super heroes are generally the worst sort of pranksters. Upon reaching my locker in the ward room I’m rewarded with it being covered in the front pages of several Honduran newspapers, all with full color pictures of yours truly wearing only her birthday suit from my stint of sleep flying.

I didn’t need to read Spanish to figure out the racy and suggestive headlines, especially in the photos of after the Eagle had joined me.

It probably needn’t be said that nobody was handily in the ward room for me to vent my sudden embarrassment on. No they were all too smart for that. I could almost hear the calypso music and some over excited announcer talking about for $19.95 plus shipping and handling you too could ogle a super heroine’s tits!

Now, if I had been in the presence of the smug little SOBs that thought publishing these pictures was cute or amusing, doubtlessly I’d be looking a judge in the face with a long sheet of felony’s to account for. However, as I’m fond of pointing out, I’m a true Southerner, grace, geniality and a certain amount of charm are expected of me, even in the face of true adversity such as this. There were some things beyond the pale from someone who called herself Southern Belle.

Be that as it may, this was hitting so far below the belt that as far as I was concerned the Marquis of Queensbury rules had been abandoned sometime yesterday. As I carefully took the newspapers down I wondered over to the wardroom phone and made use of one of the business cards that was penned to the cork board next to it.

The phone rang in my ear for a bit before I was rewarded with the voice of a very handsome sounding young man. “You’ve reached the Law firm of Corvin, Fenson and Wolfe how may I direct your call?”

“Ah would like to ruin a handful of newspapers in a foreign country and destroy the lives of whoever was responsible for publishing some extremely embarrassing photographs of me.”

“That would be our libel department, one moment while I connect you.”

* * *

To be continued in Belle of the Ball, Year Three! New action! New Drama! Same Writer!