Chapter 3

This was SO cool! I was in a plush seventh floor room in a first class hotel in downtown San Jose, California, right in the heart of Silicon Valley. Actually it was really better than just a plush room; it was a plush luxury suite. And to make it even better, I shared it with Mom. This was my first time out with Mom on one of her 'business' trips.

Ted and Mark, Mom's coworkers and two of the top agents, were staying in the next suite. The mere fact that two of the aces were working together underlined not only the importance, but also the danger, of this case. Both of them knew of Mom's strength, though probably not the real reason behind it. Mom had introduced me as her daughter, in a way that made it clear to the two older men that (A) I was under Mom's protection, and (B) I had inherited certain traits from my mother, making Mom's protection somewhat superfluous. She had left it unsaid that my mother and Mom were actually not the same person.

Mom and I had gone shopping down in San Francisco earlier in the day, and now Mom was next door discussing strategy with Ted and Mark. This was SO cool! I was trying on all the new clothes that Mom had bought me and practicing walking in my new high heels; imagining the boys' reactions when I wear these to school, if I could ever work up the nerve to wear them. And could I sneak past Danny without him seeing me? He'd probably forget about his school and follow me all the way to the high school if he saw me like this. He had enough of a crush on me as it was.

The skirts were a little shorter and the necklines a little lower than what I was used to. And the heels! I definitely liked what they did to my legs, even if I was still having a little trouble walking in them. Mom came back through the adjoining door, did a quick double-take, whistled, smiled, and invited me next door for the remainder of the strategy session.

I followed Mom through the door into the other suite wearing one of my new short dresses, showing off both more leg and more cleavage than usual. I certainly enjoyed the reactions of the two men; I certainly didn't look like the same girl that had been with them on the flight from Denver the day before. I had been wearing my usual baggy clothes then, a Broncos sweat shirt and a pair of loose jeans.

They were both big, tough-looking, handsome men. If I hadn't been so used to seeing Steve nearly completely naked almost every day, I probably would have been very impressed. As it was, I certainly was not unimpressed. Especially with Mark, the younger of the two. The one with the great broad smile and with a twinkle in his eyes. Though he was still probably too old for me. Not that Ted was that bad looking either. Or that much older. But Mark was the better looking of the two. At least in my eyes.

Out of sheer habit I focused my tachyon vision at them and their clothes melted away before my eyes. Yes, I was definitely impressed with them. I was also a little embarrassed to see that they were also quite impressed with me. At least I hoped that they were impressed with me, not just with my new dress.

And I also hoped that it wasn't all because of Mom's presence. Though with Mom around, I could almost forgive the older men if they weren't too impressed with me. Almost.

Mom explained that she and Ted, as the two most experienced field agents, would be doing most of the field work the next day, while Mark would stay here at our hotel 'headquarters', staying in contact both with the office in Denver and the local law enforcement agencies. Just in case things heated up here, would I mind staying here with Mark? We would also serve as a reserve, just in case Mom and Ted ran into unexpected difficulties. As I was here unofficially, not being on the payroll, I was to avoid trouble as much as possible. But if trouble came looking for me, I would have to be ready to act. Naturally, I readily agreed. Cool! I'd actually be working on the case, even if it was strictly unofficial. By the time we all went downstairs for dinner they had filled me in on the salient points of this case.

After dinner we returned to our respective suites. Mom gave me a crash course on the various contingencies that she hoped that I wouldn't have to face. Then Mom made me go straight to bed, so that I would be fresh and rested in the morning. Not that she stayed up any later herself.

After an early breakfast, Mom and Ted left for their part of the case, leaving Mark and me behind. I was wearing one of my new blue one-piece dresses. I was still a little wobbly on my new heels, so I was wearing my old flats. I hoped that I wasn't going to get into any kind of a fight, but I decided I had better play it safe and wear shoes I was comfortable with. After all, if I couldn't walk then I couldn't very well fight.

I helped Mark set things up, and even moved some furniture around for him while he called both the Denver office and the local authorities, both the FBI and the San Jose police. He then ordered some sandwiches so that we would have them handy, we didn't know if and when any action might happen. We then sat down and made some small talk. He kept looking at me out of the corners of his twinkling eyes.

He finally asked "Are you really as strong as your mother? I saw you move the furniture, so I know that you're pretty strong. And strongly pretty, as well." He smiled at me in that oh so charming way that he had, his eyes twinkling. The kind of smile in which a girl could completely lose herself.

I answered, "I'm not exactly in her class (how true!) but I know that I'm very strong. I'm much stronger than any man I've ever faced." I didn't tell him that I've only faced the two Broncos, Steve and Kevin, and that I had had no trouble with either of them. "And thank you." I smiled back at him to let him know that I appreciated the compliment.

"Ted and I arm wrestled with your mother a few times. She had no trouble beating either of us. Even together, we were no match for her. Would you mind arm wrestling me?" His smile told me that he wouldn't be offended if I declined, but also that he hoped that I wouldn't.

Cool! Since my manifestation I hadn't really arm wrestled anybody besides Mom and Steve. I knew that I was going to have to be very gentle with him, to take it very easy on him so as not to hurt him. Still, I knew that I could show him enough of my strength to beat him, that I didn't have to hide all of my strength. "No, not all," I answered, getting up and walking across to the other side of the built-in bar. Sitting down on a barstool I pushed my sleeve up and put my elbow on the counter. "Any time you're ready," I invited.

He immediately accepted. He took off his suit and sat down across from me. He pushed up his sleeve and took my hand and started pushing immediately. Our arms didn't move at all. "You can start any time you're ready," I told him with a smile. He put his other hand on top of our locked hands and pushed again. Our arms still didn't move. "Are you ready now?" I asked, still smiling. "Or do you need a little more time?" I ran my free hand through my hair, throwing my ponytail back over my shoulder, and adjusted my collar. By this time he was standing up on his feet, putting all of his not inconsiderable weight into it. Our arms were still exactly where they had started. "You've got to be ready by now." I gently pushed him back an inch. He shifted his grip and strained harder. I pushed him down another inch. His breath was now coming in short gasps. Without taking the smile off of my face I smoothly pushed him down the rest of the way. He almost fell over as his arms hit the surface of the bar. I reached across with my free hand to steady him.

He collapsed back onto the barstool, looking totally exhausted. His hands began stroking and caressing the arm that had defeated him so easily and decisively. I looked over at him and saw a look of complete adoration on his face as he continued to caress my arm with his hands and with his twinkling eyes.

I wasn't quite sure just where this was going. But I didn't think that it was going to be too cool. I mean I liked the feeling and all that, but he was one of Mom's coworkers, and an older man. And we were working. Just as I started withdrawing my arm the phone rang. Mark was immediately all business as he ran over and picked it up before the second ring had died away. I had no trouble listening to both ends of the conversation. It wasn't worth the trouble. Ted simply reported that they had caught the first agent red-handed, with the stolen designs in his shoe. In his shoe, of all places! He had already been turned over to the San Jose police.

The rest of the morning passed rather uneventfully. Mark wasn't up for a rematch yet, so instead he got us some juice from the fridge. "We're in California so we may as well have some real California orange juice," he joked. As we drank our juice and snacked on the sandwiches, he told me about some of his experiences working with Mom.

"Your mother is a great doorknob! We never met a door that she couldn't open. Not as subtle as a locksmith, maybe, but certainly faster. And certainly much more dramatic. Once she ripped open a set of steel doors to a factory office. I had just been captured and was tied to a chair. Before the startled men could get their jaws to close, this vision in a halter and cut-offs had all of them on the floor and had collected all of their guns. Instead of untying me she just grabbed the rope and yanked."

Remembering what Mom had told me about some of her cases, I couldn't suppress my curiosity, I just had to ask. "Did you ever, uh, sleep with her?"

He looked shocked at my question, but continued, "Unfortunately, at least for me, no. We had one case, down in New Orleans, where we were posing as honeymooners. We were both kinda looking forward to it. Sadly," he said with a smile, "we nailed our target that afternoon, so we came home that evening, never even having checked into the honeymoon suite. She got married a year after that, so now I guess that I'll never get the chance." He looked a little wistful. I've seen that look before, the effect Mom has on men.

"Couldn't you two have, you know, after you came home?"

"No, that could have ruined our professional relationship. When we're on a case, if we were to act as a married couple, we would act as a married couple. But once off a case, we keep our relationships strictly professional. It's that way with all of the women in the department. Now that she's truly married, we haven't used her in a married rôle. And we've had cases where we mostly used her muscles to carry our suitcases for us," he laughed. "And I suppose your stepfather doesn't offer to carry in the groceries very often."

"No, just last week, he offered to carry in the groceries. The three of us had spent most of the day shopping, and we had quite a load in the back of his pickup. But he offered to carry in all of the groceries by himself."

"Really? What did the two of you carry in? Clothes?" he laughed, making his eyes twinkle even more.

"No. We just carried some stuff for our weight room. Just some little stuff. About half a ton worth of weights!" Now it was my turn to laugh as his jaw dropped.

After more juice, more sandwiches, and more stories, I excused myself to use the little girls' room while he called Denver again. I had just about finished my business in there when I heard a crash outside. Straining my ears I heard several new male voices out there.

Just then the door opened and a big goon with a gun and a loud shirt came in. He saw me and leered at me. "Well well, what have we here? Maybe we can have some fun before the boss gets here." With the gun in one hand, he grabbed my arm with his other hand and pulled me out of the bathroom and towards the main room. That gun in his hand scared me, I decided not to resist.

There were two other goons with guns in there. It looked like we had been invaded by a polka group or something; they were both also wearing loud shirts. One of them had just reported "target secured" before hanging up the phone. The other was standing over Mark's prone body, an overturned chair next to him. I shook off the hand on my arm, ran quickly over to Mark, and knelt by his side. At least he was still breathing and his heart sounded fine. There was a nasty lump on the back of his head. I guessed that he must have been pistol-whipped. I certainly hadn't heard any gunshots, and didn't see any traces of blood. I thought that he would be okay, though probably with a nasty headache, when he woke up.

What could I hope to do against the three of them? I knew that I was much stronger even than the three of them put together, but they all had guns. They could hurt me with those things, maybe even kill me. And they could definitely kill Mark.

I was kneeling there trying to think of what to do, what I could do without endangering Mark, when the goon with the phone took the situation out of my hands. He walked over to me and grabbed my ponytail, pulling me up to my feet and giving me the once over. I could tell that he liked what he saw. Ordering the others to tie up Mark's unconscious body, he used his gun to force me into the nearer of the bedrooms, amid calls from the others to "leave some for us." He kicked the door closed behind him. A grave tactical error, I thought. This way the others wouldn't be able to see what happened in here. Maybe I could take them out one at a time. I just hoped that I could take proper advantage of his error. If I got the opportunity to do something about it, that is.

Still keeping his gun pointed at me, he used his free hand to rip my dress off of me, all but tearing it in half. My new dress! The blue one! THAT got me really mad. Deep down I knew that I shouldn't be worrying over something as trivial as a dress when Mark was out cold in the other room, but somehow the torn dress got me going much more. How dare he! The jerk! Ripping off a girl's brand new dress! MY brand new dress!

Moving faster than he could imagine, I snatched his gun out of his hand. Before he could do anything more than just start opening his mouth in surprise, I jabbed him in the face with my other hand. I must have hit him harder than I had intended to, this was the first time that I had actually hit a man. I heard and felt his nose break as blood spurted out. Before he could even cry out, a second punch under his jaw lifted him completely off of his feet. He was out cold before he came crashing back down onto the bed. I quickly tore off the remnants of my dress, stripped him of his shirt and pants, leaving him in just his socks and briefs, and tied him up with his own belt, his wrists and ankles behind his back.

I went to the door and watched and listened. The clinking of ice on glass, the sloshing of liquids, and the laughter, all combined to tell me that the other two goons were making good use of the bar while they waited for their turns with me. I squinted as I looked through the wooden door; my vision confirmed what my hearing had told me. Looking around, I also saw Mark, lying on the floor by the door, all tied up.

I quickly opened the door and approached the two goons, dressed only in my bra and pantyhose. Their eyes widened as they stood up. Their guns had been placed carelessly at the other end of the bar. "Done so soon?" one of them asked with a laugh, starting to walk towards me.

"Yeah, it's your turns now," I smiled at them. Two quick steps and I had a head in each hand. Before they could react, I brought their heads together. There was a sickening crash as they hit. Lifting a limp body under each arm I carried them back to the bedroom, where I stripped and tied them up, just like the first one.

Collecting the three guns, I put them in the fridge behind the orange juice to get them out of sight. I then quickly went back to Mark's side. I easily tore the bonds off of his arms and legs, just like he had told me that Mom did, and carried him over to the couch, just as he started to come around.

Mark slowly regained consciousness. The first thing he felt was the throbbing of his head. The last thing he remembered was the two men entering the suite just as he had hung up the phone. One of them pointed a gun at him, while the other stepped up, reversed his gun, and brought it down on his head.

He must still be groggy. The only thing he could see was white. Concentrating, he recognized it as a bra. With someone in it. He shook his head to try to clear it. His eyes focused a little better. He saw a face above the bra. A very pretty face, with deep blue eyes. And golden hair around the face, thrown back over a shoulder.

His memory came flooding back. He suddenly knew who it was. And what had just happened. "Julie? Are you all right? What happened to you? What happened to 'em? There were two of 'em."

"Take it easy, Mark," Julie responded. "You've got a nasty bump on the head. And there were three of them. They're tied up in the bedroom."

"Tied up?" She did that? And three of them? And why was she only wearing a bra? What had happened to her dress? What had happened to her? "Three of 'em? You did that? What happened to you?" He knew it was improper, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from her bra. She quickly filled in the details. Almost as well as she filled that bra.

I held his hands as he shook his head to clear it. Then he recognized me, despite my state of dress. Or state of undress, rather. "Julie? Are you all right? What happened to you? What happened to 'em? There were two of 'em."

"Take it easy, Mark. You've got a nasty bump on the head. And there were three of them. They're all tied up in the bedroom."

"Tied up? Three of 'em? You did that? What happened to you?" He said the last with his eyes staring right between my barely covered breasts. His mind seemed to be back to normal. Normal for a man, that is.

I answered his questions in order. "Yes, yes, yes, and nothing. But someone's going to have to pay for that dress." I filled him in on all the details.

"You put the heaters on ice, huh?"

Say what? Did Mom forget to tell me about any secret codes that they used? "Huh? Say what?"

He laughed a little. "I guess you're too young. The guns in the fridge. Nice touch."

He tried to stand up, wanting to check on the goons. He winced and sat back down. He tried to stand again. He was still a little wobbly so I picked him up and carried him in my arms. He put his arms around my neck and smiled, "Under other circumstances I could be really enjoying this. A beautiful half-naked young woman carrying me into a bedroom." I fluttered my eyelashes and smiled down at the man in my arms. I figured it was all in fun, just some good-natured flirting. After all, I didn't think that he would try doing anything to me. Not after what Mom had told him. And not after the arm wrestling. And certainly not after what had just happened.

And if he did try something anyway, I thought that I could defend myself. If I could take out three armed men, then I should be able to protect myself from one man, even if he was my partner for the day. A work partner, that is, not the other kind of partner.

I deposited him gently on the bed. He sat up and looked at the three naked trussed-up bodies on the floor. "You got anything to use as gags? And to take care of the blood?" I pointed to the pile of clothes I had taken off of their bodies. "Good. I'll try to start on that. Julie, I hate to ask you this, but could you get dressed? I like the way you are, but you're making it hard to get my head to stop throbbing." I noticed that his head wasn't the only part of him that was throbbing. But a good girl isn't supposed to notice. And a good girl certainly doesn't peek through a man's slacks. I was flattered, though I knew it was improper.

I picked up the remnants of my new dress and went through the adjoining door. I put on one of my other new dresses, a red one, and came back. Mark still hadn't moved off the bed. "Here, let me." I used one of their loud shirts to mop up the blood. The blood stains probably made the shirt look better than it had before. I tore the legs off a pair of jeans to gag two of the goons. I ripped up another pair of jeans for the third gag.

I remembered back to what one of the goons had said. "One of them said that the boss was coming," I told Mark as I finished tying the third gag.

"What was that? When?"

"The one who found me in the bathroom said 'Maybe we can have some fun before the boss gets here.'"

He looked at the watch on his wrist. "Hmm, that could be real soon." He tried to stand up again, and collapsed back onto the bed, holding his head. "I'm afraid I'm not going to be much good in a fight. Do you think that you can handle it alone? Or should we call for some back-up?"

"How many of them, do you think?" I had no trouble taking are of these three, but they hadn't been expecting anything from me. At least not a fight. They probably had been expecting something else. "And armed?" And if someone started shooting....

"Well, if they reported that they had secured the place, they won't have to send in any muscle. I'd say the boss and one bodyguard. Two bodyguards max."

Two or three more shouldn't be a problem. As long as they didn't start shooting at me. "I think that I can handle that." I was really embarrassed that I had been caught with my pants down, both figuratively and literally. This wasn't a cool way to be remembered on my first case, even if it was all unofficial. I wanted to do something to make up for that. "Let me move the phone and radio in here for you. Then I'll just sit out there and wait for them." A thought occurred to me. "Hey! How did they know where we were? Mom and Ted!"

Just then the phone rang. I immediately ran out into the other room and brought the phone back for Mark. "Ted! Are you guys okay?" "We just had some company here." "No, we're okay, thanks to Julie." "Yeah, Julie took care of it." "Tell her she did fine, just fine." "You can't find the boss? We think that he's on his way here." "No, Julie can probably handle it. But you guys might want to go into the other room when you get back. I don't think that they know about the 'ladies'." "Okay, we'll be here." I was so excited and relieved that Mom was safe that I forgot to listen to the other end of the conversation.

"They should be back within an hour. And they're fine. But could you get the radio, just in case, before you leave me?" The last was accompanied by a smile. The twinkle was returning to his eyes. I figured that it was a good sign, that he was beginning to recover from the blow to his head.

I took the radio in to Mark and left the door slightly ajar so that he could keep watch on me. Or to keep on watching me. I did notice that he got his gun out and checked it. I hoped that he wouldn't need it.

I quickly straightened up the mess. I'd barely settled into the easy chair when the front door opened and two men walked in. I had no trouble deciding which was the boss and which was the bodyguard. They had closed the door and were halfway across the room before they noticed me sitting there. "Who the hell are you? Where's Bruiser?" the little man in the gray suit asked.

I slowly stood up, opening my hands to show that I was unarmed. But then, just because my hands were empty didn't mean that I was actually unarmed, as the three bound and gagged men in the bedroom would be able to tell you. "Bruiser left me here to wait for you. He and the boys will be joining you real soon." I started walking towards them.

The huge man, wearing another loud shirt, stepped forward. "It's okay, Hulk. I don't think she's any danger." The little man waved the big one back, smiling at me. "Are you, babe?"

Bruiser? Hulk? No imagination! And me, no danger? Definitely no imagination there. Though this name seemed a little closer to the mark. Bruiser certainly hadn't given me any bruises. Hulk was nearly seven feet tall and built to scale. And it didn't look like fat; he seemed quite well muscled. But if it was Terran muscles, I knew that it would be no match for my smaller but much stronger Velorian muscles.

I approached them, trying to smile as sexily as possible. When I got closer one lightning-quick jab took Hulk under his chin. He flew halfway across the room, bounced off of the high ceiling, barely missing the chandelier hanging from that ceiling, before falling onto the dining table. Darn! I had been trying to get him over the table onto the couch on the other side. Even if these were the bad guys, I didn't want to hurt them if I didn't have to. The table collapsed from the impact as the utensils and the remains of our sandwiches flew around the room. So much for our afternoon snack. Hulk didn't move. Neither did the little man.

No, I take that back. His jaw dropped and his eyes popped out. He then turned slowly to stare at Hulk and the remains of the table. He started to reach into his suit. "Oh no you don't!" One quick step and I was by his side, holding his wrist. Not tight enough to break anything, but tight enough to keep him from moving it any further into his suit. I reached my other hand into his suit and removed his gun from his holster. Releasing his wrist I took the gun in both hands. I twisted the barrel back on itself before putting the gun back into his holster. For some reason it didn't fit as well as it had before.

I picked him up by the front of his shirt, just like I'd seen in the movies. "I answered your questions. Now you're going to answer my questions." With that I carried him over to Hulk. I picked up Hulk with my other hand and carried the two of them into the bedroom. I tossed Hulk on the floor besides Bruiser and his buddies. "Mark, can you take care of him? Shorty and I have some talking to do."

"No! I'll talk now! Anything! Don't leave me alone with her!" The little man was begging of Mark. Cool! He really thought that I was going to hurt him. I guessed that I couldn't really blame him, after having seen what I had just done to Hulk. He was more scared of the unarmed girl holding him than he was of the man pointing a gun at him. Real cool!

"No, Julie, just tie them up like the others. We'll wait for the others to return."

Mom and Ted returned soon after that. Mark and Ted began to question the little man. Mom and I remained in the front room, filling each other in on what had happened. I also kept half an ear on the questioning going on in the bedroom. Every time the little man had trouble remembering something I'd walk by the door, running my hand through my hair. Cool! It's amazing what the sight of a girl can do for a man's memory. At least if it's the right girl. And if she's making sure that he could see the bicep on her arm flex as she fixed her hair.

When we had extracted the desired information, we called the San Jose police to come and collect our five prisoners. Mom and I went back to our suite to avoid having to answer any questions. Afterwards Mom examined Mark to make sure that he was okay after the knock on his head.

We then joined the two men downstairs in the restaurant for dinner, complete with some champagne to celebrate the successful conclusion of the case. Well, the three of them had champagne. Mom wouldn't let me have any, though. After all the work that I had done! Not even when Mark offered a toast to my part in the case. That was SO uncool! I had to make do with my orange juice.

After dinner we called Steve to let him know that everything was okay, and to let him know that we would be home tomorrow in time for dinner. I had to leave the room when Mom started getting all mushy. That was too embarrassing, hearing a grown woman talking like that. And I was a nice girl; I didn't eavesdrop.

When Mom finally came out of the bedroom, she made me call George. "But he's not my boyfriend, or anything like that!" I tried to tell her.

"Then is there somebody else you'd rather talk to?" she asked, smiling. She knew me better than that. Even if he wasn't my boyfriend, at least officially, he was the closest thing to it.

So just to get her off my case, I quit protesting and phoned him. First I shooed Mom out of my room so that I could have some privacy. Even though he wasn't 'officially' my boyfriend, he was a good friend. And he was definitely happy to hear my voice. I was happy to hear his voice, too. I told him that I was having fun out here in California while Mom was on her business trip. Of course I didn't tell him what I had done that day. At least not the whole story. I did tell him about the clothes shopping in San Francisco. Maybe I shouldn't have, he sounded awfully eager to see me in some of my new clothes. But at least he didn't say anything about trying to take them off of me. And I didn't say anything about the dress that I had lost, let alone anything about how I had lost it.

We left for home the next morning. Before going downstairs for breakfast though, Mark challenged me to a rematch at arm wrestling. This time, I waited one second after Mark started pushing, and then took him down smoothly and quickly. Naturally, Ted then had to try his hand, and arm, at it. I took him down the same way. I figured that this way both male egos would be bruised by the same amount. Of course, they then wanted to see Mom and me arm wrestle each other. Mom just took my hand and started leading me out the door towards the elevator and breakfast. The two men had no choice but to follow us downstairs to breakfast.

We had to pay for the damage to the furniture and to the room. Mom pocketed the bill, telling me that if I behaved myself, she would take it out of my first paycheck, when I would finally be officially working with her. Otherwise, she said that she might have to take it out of my allowance. That could wipe out my allowance for at least a year. That wouldn't be cool; I resolved to behave myself.

On the flight home I thought back on how I had gotten into this situation. This was SO cool! My first time out with Mom on one of her 'business' trips. And I hadn't been in her way. In fact I had actually helped out.

Before my manifestation I had often imagined myself as being James Bond. With the obvious differences, of course. Having incredible adventures like James. Saving the world. Rescuing the good guys from the bad guys.

Of course the good guys are all handsome men who are properly appreciative of my rescue. They reward me for the successful completion of my missions the same way James always gets rewarded at the end of his missions by the girls he rescues.

During one of our hot chocolate sessions Mom finally told me about her 'real' job. Well, about one of them anyway. "My title of 'research assistant' is just a cover. I'm actually a special field operative, for a secret government agency. The field agents sometimes like to have some muscle to back them up when they're in the field. And I'm sure that they don't mind the package the muscle comes in," she told me with a wink.

"Wow! Cool! My Mom is like James Bond!" I tried my best Scottish accent, going for my best Sean Connery impersonation, "My name is Bond. Joan Bond."

Mom laughed with me. "No, no, nothing like that. I don't get the fancy gadgets and gizmos that he gets."

"Yeah, I hadn't seen the Aston-Martin around here recently."

"I wish!" She laughed again. " I'm mostly a bodyguard. I just stay close to my man to keep him from getting hurt."

"Like how 'close'? In to the bedroom?" I winked at her. "You get to, uh, sleep with 'em? Just like Bond always gets the girl, you always get the guy?"

"Young lady! I'm a happily married woman," she scolded me. But she continued on. "A few times, before I married Steve. Sometimes we have to pose as a married couple, usually as honeymooners. Then we have to play our parts. And it can sometimes be quite, uh, enjoyable," she gave me a wink. She then went on to tell me some stories about some of her cases. But she wouldn't tell me anything about the 'honeymoon' parts of those cases.

Her job was much cooler than I had thought it was! She actually did the kind of cool stuff that I had only dreamed about doing. And she had said that she spent all day going through old files. Instead, she probably spent all night going through her men! But I couldn't get her to admit to it.

I went to sleep that night dreaming about the kinds of things I could do. Instead of a 'mere' Arion Beta, the good guys would be working with a Velorian. And they'd certainly be very appreciative of my help. And they'd certainly know how to let me know that.

As the school year came to a close I was up to nearly two hundred Terrans. I still couldn't fly yet. But I could now see through wooden doors and drywall. But I was a good girl and never peeked into Mom and Steve's bedroom. At least not while they were, well, working out in there.

Sometimes we helped Steve train by keeping him company while he ran. I used to think that he was holding himself back, letting Mom and me keep up with him. Little did I know that it was Mom who had been really holding herself back, letting Steve and me keep up with her. Of course, now it was both Mom and me holding back to let Steve keep up with the women in his family.

One morning he told us that he was thinking of driving up into the mountains where it was cooler, and also to run at altitude. Even more altitude than the usual mile high altitude of Denver. We quickly decided to make a family day out of it and Mom and I prepared a picnic lunch and we headed on up. We got to our favorite trail and found that we weren't the only people who were out to enjoy the fresh mountain air that morning. We started an easy jog up one of the lesser-used trails. At least it was an easy jog for Mom and me; of course it had to be to let Steve keep up without sprinting. Even a medium jog for us would have left an Olympic sprinter in our dust.

After about a mile, Mom stopped us. "Can you hear anybody else up here, Julie?" she asked me.

I could hear other joggers down below, but I could hear no one else on this trail and no one above us at all. "No, I think that we're alone on this trail."

"Then I think that we can pick up the pace a bit, don't you? I'd like to get up to that rockslide we found earlier. We ladies can work out with the boulders while Steve runs."

"Hey! What about me?" Steve managed to gasp out. "It took all I have to keep up with you two superwomen this far. If you pick up the pace any more, I won't be able to keep up."

"Oh, poor baby!" she smiled at him. "I guess that one of us superwomen will have to carry you. You can run to your heart's content once we get there." She turned to me. "You feel up to it, Julie?"

I replied by picking up Steve in my arms. "Lead on, Mom! Full speed ahead! I can keep up with you, even carrying this much weight. Steve, just put your arms around my neck and hold on. I won't drop you."

Mom took off up the trail. I followed, being careful not to jar Steve too much. We ran up the trail doing about thirty miles per hour, for about twenty minutes. For those of you without a calculator handy, that's maintaining a two-minute mile pace, uphill on a rough trail, for ten miles.

When we got to the area Mom walked up to a boulder. "This is the first boulder that we tried, a little over a ton." She squatted down and lifted it, pressing it over her head a few times before putting it back down.

Putting Steve down on his feet I walked over to the boulder. Getting a good grip on it I lifted it up over my head. Shifting my grip to find the balance point, I lowered my left arm, holding it up with just my right arm. I pressed it a few times one-handed.

"Show-off!" Mom called out. "Why don't you try a big one, Hot Shot?"

I couldn't let that jibe go. I set the boulder down and found a big one. I couldn't get a good grip on it, so I knocked off some pieces with my fingers, making myself a good grip. Straightening up, I lifted it up over my head. I tried to do it one-handed, but started losing my balance. I managed to knock it away from Mom and Steve. The boulder went bouncing about a hundred yards down the slope and across the clearing, shattering into a million smaller pieces as it went.

"Wow! I didn't think that you were THAT strong." Mom was definitely impressed.

Steve was well beyond impressed. Maybe flabbergasted would be a more appropriate term.

This was SO cool! Mom and I continued to work out with the boulders while Steve ran around the clearing, occasionally stopping to watch us while he caught his breath.

After the picnic lunch Steve took a nap while Mom and I took off our sweat suits and sunbathed. Then we decided to head down.

"The same arrangement as before?" I asked, walking towards Steve, preparing to pick him up to carry him back down the trail.

"Wait, Julie. I think that your mother should carry me this time. I want to see how my other superwoman rides."

"How your OTHER superwoman rides? Humph! As if you didn't already know, you big hunk!" Still, Mom walked over to him and picked him up, telling me, "Julie, take it easy going down. I'm not as strong and fast as you are, and I wouldn't want him to think that his OTHER superwoman dropped him on purpose."

I led the way, keeping about the same pace as we had on the way up, maybe just a bit slower. We were about a mile above where had started going up at speed, when I stopped to listen. "Mom, I hear somebody coming up this way."

Mom put Steve down. "I guess that we'll have to finish this the old-fashioned way. How about it, big boy? Have you ridden your OTHER superwoman enough? Think you can make it the rest of the way on your own two feet?"

"When are you going to let me get over that OTHER stuff? I only said that to distinguish between the two of you. And as for getting back down, I guess that I'll have to make it on my own, if I want to see EITHER of my superwomen again." With that he started jogging down the trail. I followed Mom as she put on a burst of speed, easily passing Steve as he sprinted to try to keep up, before slowing down to let him catch up.

We had only jogged for about a minute before a man and a woman came pedaling their mountain bikes up the trail. We stepped off the trail and waved as they continued up. In less than an hour we were back in Steve's pickup, driving back towards home.

During dinner Mom told us that she had to go to Silicon Valley on a case the next week.

"Mom! You promised! You said that I could go with you on your first case this summer."

"If this was an ordinary case, I'd have no trouble bringing you along. But this is potentially my most dangerous case in years. Industrial espionage. Those microchips can be more valuable, pound-for-pound, than pure heroin. The chip designs are even more valuable. Consequently, the traffickers could be more dangerous and vicious than drug dealers."

"Then just leave me at the hotel, if you think that I might get hurt." Thinking about what I had just said, I rolled up a sleeve and flexed my arm. Really flexed it, making my bicep almost as big as Mom's. "If it's that dangerous maybe I can protect you from getting hurt."

"Julie! I'll admit that you're much stronger and tougher than I am. You don't have to prove that to me. But you don't have any practical experience."

"How much experience did you have on YOUR first case?"

"That's different!" Mom almost yelled at me.

"Yeah, I only have the world's second strongest person as my coach. I suppose that you had a better one."

"Touché!" Until now, Steve had been purely a listener. "She's got you there, sweetheart."

Mom glared at him. "Whose side are you on, anyway?"

Steve held up his hands. "I'm just the referee. I just keep the score. And she definitely scored there, sweetheart."

"C'mon, Mom! If it looks too dangerous or if I get in your way, I can just stay at the hotel, or hang around a mall or something" I pleaded. "I'm certainly not going to get any experience if you leave me at home every time."

"Her instincts are quite good. Remember Kevin last week? She handled that situation quite, uh, discreetly. Even you admitted that she handled it well."

Kevin was a brash young Broncos cornerback. He had just finished a sterling rookie season after having been a high-round draft pick. He was a cute guy, in his own way, but he just wasn't my type. And besides, I was too young. A player shouldn't be dating a teammate's daughter.

We were at a party mostly of Broncos and their families. I had already checked out all of the players and now I had been mixing and talking with some of the other kids. It really was a bit difficult for me; none of the other players had kids close to my age. But some of the coaches did.

Kevin, after a few drinks, had cornered me in a hallway and began groping me and forcing me into one of the bedrooms. Maybe he didn't recognize me, he had only been with the team for a year and we had never formally met, and he probably thought that I was a groupie or something. I let him push me into the room. I wanted privacy, too, but not for the same reasons that he did. When he tried to grope for my breasts I grabbed his wrist and began to twist. He swung his other fist at me. I grabbed that wrist and began pushing him back. By the time his back hit the wall, he had a surprised look on his face. I wasn't anywhere near full exertion so my muscles hadn't grown to the dimensions they were capable of, but they were still quite noticeable in the sleeveless floral print dress that I had on.

I released his wrists and pinned him against the wall with one hand. He put both hands on my one arm and tried to break free. I held him pinned with one hand while I casually used my other hand to smooth out my hair and straighten up my dress. By this time his face had gone from surprise to fear. When I was sure that he was sure that he was outmatched, I tossed him onto the bed with the one hand and told him to not move until I came back.

I went downstairs and found Steve talking with some of the other players and their families. Leading him away from the others, I quietly and quickly explained the situation to him. He wanted to charge up there immediately, but I grabbed his arm and held him back. I reminded him that I had been in no physical danger, and that he should just talk to Kevin and 'explain' things to him.

When we got back, Kevin was still where I had left him. While I casually leaned against the door, Steve calmly explained to him that he shouldn't mess with underage girls, or unwilling women of any age. Especially his own daughter. Steve also explained that if he caused any more trouble AT ALL, there might be one underage girl Steve wouldn't be able to hold back, even though it might cost the Broncos a good cornerback.

Steve went over to Kevin's apartment the next day to have a long talk with him. Not as a parent this time, but as a team captain. When he came back he told us that he didn't expect any more trouble from Kevin in the future.

"Thank you, Mr. Impartial Referee!" Mom shot him a wicked look. "She's your stepdaughter! How can you put her in danger?"

"You think that I can protect her better than YOU can? She's her mother's daughter! I don't think that she'll be in any danger. And you did promise her this."

"Okay, I see I'm outvoted, not that we're running a democracy here. Julie, you can come along. But you'll have to do exactly as I say and stay out of trouble."

"I promise. I'll be a good little girl." I gave Mom my best 'good little girl' smile. I didn't think that I fooled her at all.

After dinner we watched some TV. At least I tried. Mom was sitting in Steve's lap. They had their hands all over each other, like a pair of teenagers in the school parking lot. Mom saw that I was trying not to look at them, and that nobody seemed interested in the TV anyway. She stood up and looked down at Steve. "I think it's time somebody was punished for that OTHER crap." Steve looked pained as she picked him up in her arms and started walking towards the stairs. Turning her head, she called out, "Good night, Julie."

"Good night, Mom. Good night, Steve."

"Good night, my young superwoman."

"Oh, so now I'm your OLD superwoman, eh? I guess I really have to punish you tonight."

"Oh no!" he cried out, but I could see that they were smiling at each other. I guessed that Mom's 'punishments' weren't too bad.

I went to sleep; imagining what it would be like to 'punish' a boy like Mom was doing to Steve. I could think of a few boys in school that might need some 'punishing'. Could I do it to more than one boy at a time? Maybe one boy in each arm and one boy between my legs? Hmm, that might be cool.

Would George like being 'punished'?

Naturally, when we got home from San Jose, Steve had to hear everything, down to every last detail. Mom suggested another jog. After changing clothes, we headed out of town. Nothing but miles and miles of open fields. Mom led the way; Steve and I jogged side by side. Occasionally Mom teased Steve by increasing the pace, forcing Steve to sprint to keep up. I matched Steve step for step, while telling him the story. A few times we had to stop so that this world-class athlete could get enough air to laugh.

"'...pretty strong. [pant] And strongly [pant] pretty, as well.' [pant pant] I may [pant] have to [pant] remember [pant] that one, [pant] for your [pant] mother. [pant pant]"

"'A beautiful [pant] half-naked [pant] young woman [pant] carrying [pant] me into [pant] a bedroom.' [pant pant] He really [pant] said that? [pant pant]"

I was beginning to think that I was going to have to carry Steve home when Mom finally took pity on the poor man and set a nice slow pace for home. When we got home Mom carried Steve in to the couch and began giving him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation to help him get his breath back. I went downstairs to get the hot tub ready. I made sure that I turned the heat down a notch for Steve; Mom and I liked it HOT. When I came back upstairs Steve apparently still hadn't gotten his breath back since Mom was still giving him first aid. I picked up the two of them, carried them downstairs, and dropped them both into the hot tub. She kept giving him first aid.

My first case had been a total success! And Mom had to admit that if I hadn't been there with Mark the story may have had a different ending. The biggest bummer for me was the dress I had lost.

But it was still SO cool! Me, working with Mom! Working with Ms. James Bond!

The next week Mom took me along with her to the office. Actually, to the gym at the office. Mom had me demonstrate some of my abilities for Mark and Ted. For this demonstration she had me wearing something a little more substantial than my workout bikini; I was wearing a Broncos tee shirt and a pair of running shorts.

She started me off by arm wrestling both Mark and Ted together. First, with Ted on my left and Mark on my right. Then with both of them against my right arm.

Following her instructions we both lifted and pressed their heaviest weights with one hand. We ran a couple of laps around the indoor track at better than thirty miles per hour. Standing under a basket, we took turns jumping straight up and slam-dunking a basketball.

It took me a couple of tries to get it done. It wasn't the jumping that I was having trouble with, I could easily have jumped up to the ceiling. It was the ball handling. I didn't want to pop the basketball by squeezing it too hard. My hands were much smaller than those of a seven foot tall man were, so I had to use both hands. The first couple of times I kept dropping the ball when I jumped. But I finally got the hang of it, as I learned to hang on to the ball as I jumped up.

But I couldn't do it with one hand. After a couple of tries Mom made me stop trying it.

She was careful to not have me show off all of my abilities; I didn't even work up a sweat during the half-hour demonstration. In fact, I thought both Mark and Ted worked up more of a sweat just from watching me. At least their pulse rates had sped up much more than mine. And, well, certain parts of them seemed to have gotten much more pumped up than my muscles. But I was a good girl and didn't look. At least not too much. After all, these guys were too old for me.

By the end of the summer I had gotten quite a bit stronger. My strength was up well over five hundred Terrans, about ten times Mom's strength. I could easily lift Steve's truck over my head. I could lift Mom's little car with one hand. Well, I could lift that much weight, but I couldn't balance something as big as a car. Mom wouldn't let me try to lift Steve's classic Porsche roadster, though. I could easily bend two-inch thick steel bars.

And I could fly! That was SO cool! Not very fast or far yet, and I couldn't carry a lot of weight yet, only a ton or so. Mom and I took a few midnight flights to an abandoned quarry for some workouts. Not that Mom weighs anywhere near a ton.

She had me working on my balance, using my flight powers to balance myself while I lifted heavy weights. This was SO cool! I could stand on one foot, holding a five hundred pound boulder in one hand with my arm completely outstretched, without losing my balance.

She then had me throw a hundred pound rock over my head with one hand and then catch it with my other hand. That took some practice. The quarry floor was littered with shattered sandstone fragments before I got the hang of it. Or should I say 'before I got a grip on it'? But I eventually got to the point where I could catch it with no more than a flex of my elbow while I balanced it.

Of course, that was after I had learned to control my flight. Mom really tried hard to help, but she only knew the theory. She could tell me what I had to do, but she couldn't show me how to do it. The best she could do was to tell me how my mother did it. The only way I could learn was through practice. She would drive me up into the mountains so that I could practice, away from other people. We certainly didn't want to have to explain the presence of a flying blonde girl to our neighbors.

She knew that I had to flex my muscles in order to generate the flying power. But which muscles to make me go in which direction? I tried just about everything, including flapping my arms like a bird. Boy, that didn't work very well. I must have looked really silly. My early flights were great examples of Brownian motion as I would just bounce around from boulder to tree to lake. I tried to get Steve to destroy the videotapes he took of me flapping and bouncing around. But Mom insisted that we keep them for our private records.

Mom and Steve certainly enjoyed watching them. And I had to admit; the early tapes were kind of funny. At least if I tried to forget that it was yours truly up there on the screen. I just tried to pretend that we were just watching a cartoon. There was this cute blonde chick, looking rather funny as she flapped her arms and went every which way, bouncing off of boulders or occasionally smashing them when she hit them too hard. Or else bouncing off of a tree and then splashing into a lake.

But I started getting the hang of it. I found that just by using my legs I could fly in any direction. And I got better at controlling myself. I could float up under a tree until the top of my head just brushed against the branches overhead. I could lower myself over a lake until just the bottoms of my feet were touching the water. I could then 'walk on water'. That was cool!

Quite a contrast from my earlier landings. I would just quit flying and let gravity bring me back down to the ground. Usually head first. It didn't hurt any, but it annoyed me. Steve took some more videos of me trying to land. Ugh! So clumsy. Definitely not graceful. Definitely not cool.

And when I did start coming down feet first, at first I was lucky if I didn't bury my legs up to my knees or even higher in the ground.

This was SO cool! I was the only person on Earth who could fly under her own power. Not fast enough to pace a jet liner or anything like that, but it's still SO cool!

Of course, once I started getting the hang of it, Mom didn't have to drive me anywhere in order for me to practice my flying. I spent a lot of nights flying around the open countryside and up in the mountains. The first few times, I ended up running and walking home; I couldn't recognize our house from the sky.

Mom also thought that I was bullet-proof now. Steve didn't have a gun, so we didn't have a good way to test it. Mom wouldn't let anybody shoot me, anyway. And I didn't think that I wanted anybody shooting me, guns still scared me. My body might be bullet-proof, but my mind definitely wasn't.

I knew that Mom herself wasn't quite bullet-proof, she had been shot a couple times on the job. She knew that bullets would hurt her. She wasn't hurt bad, and she healed real quickly, without leaving any scars. But a bullet or two in the heart, or in the head, and it would have been a different story.

Knives were certainly no problem. Neither were saws, nor were chisels. We didn't try any power tools, but we didn't think that they would do any more than hand tools would. Ordinary power tools couldn't compare with hand tools powered by Mom's hands, anyway.

But the physical aspects were only a part of the story. I was losing my shyness. I was becoming much more comfortable in my relationships with other people. I guessed that it was partly because I no longer had to be afraid of anybody, that nobody was going to force anything on me that I didn't want.

That's not to say that I became aggressive and assertive. Well, I guessed that I did assert myself on George just a bit. But it's not like I went around beating up people. But I wasn't afraid to join in on a discussion. Or to tell a boy who had been bothering me to go take a hike. Though sometimes I did have to resist the urge to give him a good start on his hike by tossing him for the first hundred yards or so.

I really did enjoy the new confidence that my abilities gave me. Even Steve told me that I didn't act at all like the shy thirteen-year old that I had been when we had first met.

Of course, I had to try really hard to not let out my new confidence too much in gym class. Though of course I added gym to the list of classes that I got A's in. But I was always careful to not be the best girl at any item.

Another Broncos season for Steve and another year of school for me. Now I was a junior. An upperclassman!

In my fantasies I continued to play football. Or maybe more like play with the football team. Effortlessly dominating them. I even wore pads and a helmet, so that when they him me or I hit them, it didn't hurt as much. So that it didn't hurt THEM as much, of course. It would definitely be less painful for them to hit my pads than it would be for them to hit ME.

I brushed blockers and tacklers away with merely the flick of a finger. I ran through them. I jumped over their heads. I stood still and had the whole team try to tackle me. I threw the ball the length of the field and hit the receiver right in the hands. Naturally his hands weren't of much use after that.

Of course, none of the boys were of much use to anybody after a practice session with me. Especially after THAT kind of practice. The kind of practice that I really wanted to do with them. Just lining up the whole team on the field and going through them, one right after another, seeing whether the sixty boys combined could match the stamina and endurance of one Velorian girl.

Outside of my fantasies I concentrated on reality. George has been my most regular study partners since we had been in honors math together our freshman year. This year we were again in honors math. He was also the closest thing I've had to a boyfriend thus far in high school.

I didn't have a great, well, social life in high school. At least until lately. Before my manifestation I was kind of, well, skinny. And shy. When my manifestation started I was spending so much time training and getting to know the 'new and improved' Julie that I didn't have much time for dating and such.

But I somehow seemed to have enough time for study sessions with George. And I don't mean anatomy or biology. We were both considered nerds, so I supposed that it was natural that we hung together a bit. And when I was a skinny girl, this skinny boy seemed so, well, unthreatening. And after my manifestation, well, there wasn't a boy who could threaten me. Certainly not physically, unless he was to pull a gun on me, or something like that. Even then, I probably would be quick enough to get it away from him.

After my manifestation, when my body started, well, developing, things started changing. Despite my usual baggy clothes some boys noticed and started asking me out. It always made him a bit uncomfortable when other boys would ask me out. It made him even more uncomfortable when I would accept, and that made me a bit uncomfortable. But I was enjoying all of the attention I was getting from the boys after having been ignored all of my life. I still couldn't bring myself to ask George out, at least not after that first time, and I was hoping that the 'competition' would steel his nerves enough to ask me out.

George and I weren't really dating, but it was hard not to go get some ice cream or something after studying together. After all we only lived a block apart, so we usually went home from school together. We even went to the movies a few times. But it wasn't really dating, just two friends hanging out together.

Mom asked if I thought that George was going to be the man in my life. "Don't you want somebody bigger, more athletic?"

"You mean a hunk, like Steve?" I smiled at her.

"Uh, well, maybe not 'exactly' like Steve," she winked at me. "I think that he's already spoken for."

"Yeah, I suppose that his wife might get mad if I tried to put some moves on him." After our laughter I continued, "I know that a lot of my girlfriends like boys with some muscle. Some of them have even told me that they think that Steve's dreamy, and ask me what it's like having a hunk like him around the house," I winked back. "But I don't think a boy's muscles are going to make any real difference to me, I've got enough for the both of us. I like to think that it's what's inside a boy that really matters, not how much muscle is on the outside."

"That's exactly why I married Steve," she told me with a big smile. "Steve's better on the inside than on the outside."

While I refilled our mugs she continued, "What about the boys? What do you think that they like about you?"

"Well, even with my usual clothes, I can't completely hide my body. And I certainly can't hide it in gym class, in the locker room. And some of the girls do gossip. And it's pretty obvious what the boys like."

"At least I've tried to rear you as a Terran, not as an Arion. I certainly can't bring you up properly as a Velorian. An Arion girl your age would be wearing something like your workout bikini when hanging out with her friends after school."

"No way! I wouldn't even wear that at the pool. It's only for you and Steve. And Steve's reaction is pretty obvious," I winked.

"Soon you'll think that it's too big. I haven't let you wear real short skirts or low necklines to school. Could you imagine the boys' reactions if I let you dress like that? You'll have enough trouble without, uh, advertising your charms. I've dressed rather conservatively myself, even before I hooked Steve."

"Yeah, I used to tell you to show off your figure a little more if you wanted to catch a man. Of course, with the clothes you wore, I didn't know just how good a figure you had. When I saw you in the gym that first night, I couldn't believe what a babe you are."

She smiled at the compliment. "Thank you. If I had dressed like you suggested, I would have had to fight off the entire Broncos. And probably half their wives as well, too!" Mom laughed and winked. "And consider the way we've been talking tonight. Can you imagine any of your girlfriends talking like this with their mothers?"

"Hah! Even the boys don't talk like that, even in the locker room."

"The locker room? Julie, you really should quit listening in on the boys' private conversations."

"Yeah, I know. But it's too much fun," I laughed.

"Let's just hope none of them ever hear us talking like this," she joined my laughter.

Even with my gold on, I was now quite a bit stronger than Mom was. For my seventeenth birthday Mom and Steve gave me another gold necklace, this one quite a bit heavier than the first one. I went through another adjustment phase, with the heavier one I was considerably weaker than Mom was, though still somewhat stronger than Steve was. Even though I knew that I was stronger than just about any Terran was, I felt so weak, I'd gotten so used to my 'normal' strength.

In February Steve arranged to borrow a friend's mountain cabin for a weekend. His friend only used it for fishing in the summer. In the winter there wouldn't be anybody else around for miles. It was a clear cold morning when we packed some food and other supplies in the back of Steve's pickup and headed up. Well, most of the way up. The side road up to the cabin hadn't been plowed since nobody goes there during the winter. At least not without wearing skis or snowshoes. Faced with a dirt road buried under four feet of snow, Steve stopped the truck just off of the main road.

Mom and Steve were looking at the map, looking for another route. "We may have to walk," he said.

"I guess the superwomen will have to carry everything," Mom said, winking at Steve with her last word.

"Um, I think I know a, uh, shortcut," I offered, smiling at them.

"Julie! You can't fly us up there. Not the truck." Mom knew that I wasn't that strong yet.

"No, I know I can't carry that, but I can carry YOU, both of you." I kept smiling.

"What about our stuff?" Steve asked.

"I'll just have to make two trips then."

"Well, what do you think, big boy? You want to risk the flight?"

"I don't see any other choice. It's either that or we turn around and go home and call it a wasted trip."

After a brief discussion the decision was made. Nobody wanted to waste the weekend.

Mom and I pushed the truck off of the road and under some trees. Well, I pushed, Mom guided. I walked up to them and put an arm around each waist. "Hold on tight," I told them, "Velorians don't come equipped with seat belts." I leaped up into the sky. For Steve's benefit I didn't go at full speed so that he could breathe. I flew just above the trees at about sixty miles per hour.

Five minutes later I landed on the cabin porch. It was a nice rustic cabin, like you would see on a calendar or something. While they went on inside to warm up I returned for the two boxes of food and clothing. Now that I didn't have to worry about anybody's breathing the round-trip took less than three minutes.

When I went inside Steve had just gotten the fireplace started. Mom and I put the food and clothing away. "Don't put too much wood on there yet, Steve. Julie and I have a little something planned. Julie, are you ready?"

"Sure thing, Mom!" We had discussed this last night as we had packed. We had packed a little something special for this trip, the kind of stuff not usually packed for a winter weekend in a mountain cabin.

"Okay. Steve, excuse us while we ladies change into something more appropriate. C'mon, Julie," she took my arm and led me into one of the bedrooms, carrying the small suitcase with our little something special.

A minute later we emerged, each of us was carrying a towel. We were wearing quite a bit less than a towel each. Steve's eyes popped out as he took in our bikinis. "Th-that's more appropriate?" he stammered out.

"Julie and I are going out for some fresh air and exercise. You want to come along?"

"Let me grab my parka. Unlike you two superwomen I don't think that I'd last very long out there dressed like that."

"You wouldn't look as good as us either, if you were dressed like that."

"I don't know, Mom. I'd kinda like to see him in a bikini sometime." Steve turned away so that I couldn't see him blush.

We went out onto the ice-covered lake while Steve stood under a tree to get out of the biting wind. Mom and I wrestled a bit on the ice, though it was more like rolling around in the snow. That was cool! Literally. Then we smashed and tore a hole in the ice. After giving Steve a wave we dove in. I could stay down almost forever; Mom had to go up for air every few minutes. We frolicked around, splashing each other with the icy water. We chased the trout at the bottom of the lake. After about half an hour Mom waved me over to her as she surfaced for air.

"I think that I've had about all I can take. I think that I'll go and make sure that Steve's warm enough," she told me with a wink. "Can you stay out here until you smell the coffee? And no peeking!"

"No problem. Have fun," I told her, returning her wink before going back under. I only peeked while Mom handed her towel to Steve to dry her off, and then carried him inside the cabin. I then rejoined the trout at the bottom of the lake. With what Mom had said, I didn't have to use much imagination to figure out what they were doing inside. But I kept my word and didn't peek.

When I smelled the coffee I dried off and went in. Mom and Steve definitely looked like they had warmed up a bit. And not just from the fire blazing in the fireplace, and not from the hot coffee either.

By morning the lake had frozen over again, eliminating all traces of our frolicking. After breakfast we hiked around the lake once. After lunch we packed up and I flew us back down to the truck. We made the rest of the trip home in the conventional Terran style, arriving home in plenty of time for dinner.

I also made my first TV appearance that February. Well, the first appearance of the 'New and Improved Julie'. Being a member of the Broncos family my face had appeared a few times on the local news and sports shows. ESPN had even come to our house once to do a segment on Steve; they had interviewed both Mom and me as well.

The three of us had gone into Denver for dinner that Friday evening. On the way back Steve had to take a detour, the police had the road blocked. Red lights were flashing everywhere. We could see police cars, fire trucks, and ambulances up ahead; it looked like an apartment building was on fire. We really didn't discuss my doing something about it; it wasn't like I could pick up a water tank and dump it on the fire or anything like that. Or blow out the fire with my 'super-breath' like "Superman" does in the movies.

But I couldn't help rubbernecking; I looked a little further, using my tachyon vision to look into the burning building.

That was when I saw it. "Oh my God! I see a baby in there!"

As Steve stopped the car Mom turned to me. "Do you think that you can get it out of there?"

I didn't know whether I had any Protector genes in me, but I couldn't leave that baby in there. Not if my growing Velorian powers could do anything about it. "I've got to try!" I took off my coat and got out. Fortunately we were alone; all of the spectators had gone up closer to get a better look. I leaped up into the sky and took a good look. The firefighters were working from the front; there was almost nobody in the parking lot behind the building. I flew in through a window, the glass shattering around me. The building was filled with smoke. I located the baby in a bedroom; all of the adjacent rooms were on fire. I smashed my way through a couple of walls. Now I was only one room away.

As I prepared to go though the final wall a section of the burning ceiling collapsed on me, knocking me down to the floor on my face. I quickly got up and brushed off the debris. I was unhurt, in fact the heat kind of felt good. This was SO cool, well, you know what I mean. I was lying in the middle of a fire and all it did was to warm me up.

But I wasn't here for a dry sauna; I had something more important to do. I got up and brushed my hair out of my eyes; the rubber band I used for my usual ponytail must have burned away when the ceiling collapsed on me. I went through that last wall and scooped up the baby from its crib. It was crying but seemed to be unhurt. There was no sign of its parents or a babysitter. I knew that I couldn't take it out the way I got in, I could survive the flames but it couldn't. There was only one thing that I could do.

I kicked open a window with a bare foot; I must have lost my shoes as well when the ceiling had collapsed on me. The glass fragments showered down onto the lawn below. I was up on the second floor. I saw the firefighters down below on the lawn; it didn't look like I was going to get out of here unseen. Holding the baby in my arms I jumped out of the window. Using just a bit of my flight powers I landed lightly on the lawn, my knees flexing to cushion the impact, and ran towards the nearest ambulance, ignoring the sharp glass fragments that would have cut an ordinary girl's feet to ribbons.

Paramedics and police immediately surrounded me. "Here, take care of him," I said, trying to hand the baby to the nearest paramedic. The baby didn't want to let go, it had its mouth firmly clamped on my nipple, suckling. Oh no, the collapsing ceiling and the flames had really done a number on my dress. My top was almost completely gone and my skirt was in tatters.

I managed to disengage the baby and handed it to the paramedic. A frantic woman rushed up, her eyes full of tears. She must be the baby's mother. I tried to cover myself up with the remains of my dress but couldn't, there was too much me and not enough material left. A TV camera shone its bright light in my eyes. Or maybe a little lower. Somebody shoved a microphone in my face.

"I gotta go!" I turned and ran down the street before I got trapped. Two of the policemen started to follow me. I picked up the pace, speeding up to about thirty miles per hour, quickly leaving them behind. I turned around a corner and immediately leaped up into the dark night sky.

I quickly found our car and landed beside it, going in and putting my coat back on. Mom and Steve looked a little surprised and concerned at my state of undress. "Are you okay, my little one?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. So's the baby," I told them. I didn't tell them that the baby was fine enough to try to get milk from the naked breast of a seventeen-year-old girl. I didn't think that they would think that it was too cool.

But they found that out soon enough anyway.

That night and the next, all of the local TV stations had the story of a young blonde girl that had heroically rescued a little baby from a burning apartment building. They all showed footage of her jumping down from a second floor window, the baby suckling at a bare breast, and the girl disappearing down the street with her long bare legs pumping and her long blonde hair and the soot-covered and tattered remains of her dark blue dress flying behind her, her bare feet seeming to have no trouble with the asphalt pavement.

Fortunately my face was covered with enough soot so that I wasn't recognized. And I looked quite a bit different with my hair loose, instead of in my usual ponytail. The cameramen hadn't seemed too interested in my face and hair anyway, preferring to focus their attentions, and their cameras, elsewhere. The TV stations hadn't seemed too interested in censoring out that part of the picture.

The next week I joined in on the speculations at school about who, or what, that mysterious blonde was. Even my friends hadn't recognized my soot-covered face. And most of the boys hadn't looked at that soot-covered face anyway. Even the girls hadn't recognized me with my hair out of my ponytail.

Apparently no one at all had recognized me. No reporters ever called for an interview. Camera crews never came to our house. And none of my friends even suspected. That was a great relief.

Fortunately nobody discovered my shoes in the ruined building. Or at least no one knew that they were my shoes. As a result I was spared from having to go through the Cinderella routine. I had been afraid that if anybody had found them, and known that they were mine, they would have wanted to go around the entire Denver area trying to fit them on any and all blonde women they could find. And somehow, I didn't that that person would be Prince Charming. I really didn't believe in fairy tales and Prince Charming anymore.

No, I didn't believe in fairy tales and Prince Charming. I just believed in Velorians and Arions.