Electra

Erin pursed her lips and fell silent, following his gaze over to the row of monitors. He obviously remembered as well as she did the last time she'd let her own fear get in the way of his pragmatism. Maybe he just had a much higher tolerance for risk than she did. In any case, the past wasn't anywhere she wanted to dwell right now. She took a deep breath, deliberately schooling her face into calmer lines. "So did it work?" she asked him. "You look... different."

In contrast to Trevor, Erin was bone white, her eyes huge as she watched yet another transformation overtake him. When her color came back, it came back all at once, along with her animation. "You idiot!" she shouted at him. "How could you do that? That was so... so stupid! You could've killed yourself just for some half-baked experiment! What was I supposed to do if you died?" Her voice broke at the last, so instead of continuing, she just glared at him, seeming unimpressed by his new patina.

Erin's mouth dropped open when Trevor said the part about stopping his heart, but before she could say anything, he'd flipped the switch and started anyway. "What the hell!" she demanded, half panicky, half-indignant as she scrambled to pull the Young Freedom communicator out of her pocket. "Trevor, stop! Can you hear me?" She could've shattered the machine into a million pieces in a second, but who knew what that would do to him? All she could do was watch and silently panic as her idiot genius of a boyfriend electrocuted himself for her.

"That might work," Erin said tentatively. She didn't really understand what exactly Trevor was suggesting, but she really hoped it was a good idea. They could really use a good idea or two, even if they were in service of something that still might be a really bad idea. And honestly, anything that could make Trevor tougher would be extremely reassuring to her in all sorts of situations, not just this. Much as she trusted his ability to plan, there was something to be said for being able to take a few punches. "Maybe you could, um, try it?"

"My control is usually really good," Erin told him, though there was doubt in her voice as they both looked at the crumpled bit of steel. "Even Mr. Archer admits how far I've come in the past year and a half. But at the same time, I don't want to risk it, and I don't know if that's my judgement or my paranoia talking." She ran her hand through her hair again, the firelight picking out the red colors in her now very disordered locks. "I was sort of thinking that maybe you had some kind of invention, but maybe that's just way too bizarre." Erin trailed off, blushing again.

Erin's brow furrowed at Trevor's unexpected levity. She scooted up to sit on the arm of the chair, tucking her legs underneath her. "It's not that," she protested, then stopped. "Well, that's part of it. It's not always... easy to untangle the present and the future from the past. But I'm serious about the hurting you thing. And not like hurting your feelings, either." She took the spoon from her cocoa and held it up, studied it for a moment, then crumpled it with her fingers as though it were made of paper. When she opened and tilted her hand, a small wadded ball of stainless steel rolled out and thunked onto the floor. "I always have to be mindful, or bad things could happen."

Erin took her mug but didn't drink from it, running her free hand through her hair, then using it to rub her face. "Yeah, that's fair," she decided. "I... I like what we've been doing. Really a lot, actually. And I know you're going slow for my sake, and I appreciate that, and I would like to do, um, more, and stuff, but I just... it feels like there's a lot at stake, you know?" She waved a hand helplessly, trying to marshal thoughts that refused to be organized. "I don't want to make a mistake, or hurt you, or feel bad about it later."

Erin followed him over, her hair making a tangled curtain to frame her face as she leaned down and kissed him. In a way, the small and distant part of Erin still capable of rational thought was relieved that she could do this at all. Whenever she'd thought about kissing and making out and, you know, more, she'd always wondered a little bit if she'd be able to turn off the fighting reflexes that made her guard her throat and her back, the part that reacted badly to things and people getting too close. So far that didn't seem to be a problem at all, though it was true she was still dressed all the way down to her tennis shoes. She didn't mind the feeling of Trevor getting very close one little bit. The errant rumination was enough, however, to remind her of a bigger worry, less easily dismissed. Even if her reflexes weren't telling her to fight, one wrong move at the wrong time, with her strength, could wind up really hurting Trevor. Her imagination could conjure up all sorts of scenarios, some more unlikely than others. Despite the fun she was having, opening the door to that one worry brought all the others crowding in, one on top of each other. She eased back, her face flushed and her breath coming quick, and returned to her own half of the chair. "Talking," she said again, her voice a little shaky.

I probably should've made one of these before now, but ah well. You know how social threads are. Anyway, Supercape, Dok is not in the sanctuary yet either. As best man, he will not enter until the processional, just like Derrick and Stesha.

Erin nodded. "We really should," she agreed wholeheartedly. It was a great idea, an extremely sensible idea. She still had so many reservations. But if they really talked, everything would stop, and who knew if it would get going again? So she kissed him again instead, and let things remain unspoken for now. It was just kissing, just cuddling and making out, everybody did that. That much at least was totally safe, and she really, really wanted to keep doing it.

Erin reached past him to set her mug down as well, a movement that coincidentally brought them much closer together, chest to chest and all but nose to nose. "No idea," she murmured back, tossing caution to the wind for the moment with an option to haul it back in later. Closing that last breath of space between them, she kissed him, very lightly at first, with her eyes drifting closed as the kiss grew deeper. He tasted like chocolate, she noted distantly. It was nice.

"It's a... it's a very nice chair," Erin managed, turning her head and angling her body to look at him. "Really comfortable, and big, and, yeah." Almost of its own volition, her free hand crept upward to cup his cheek, her fingertips brushing the edges of his dark and tousled hair. "Kinda thought you did it on purpose, though. It seems like a place this big would have a least one room with a fireplace and sofa." She grinned, though her eyes were a little wider than usual, her face a little more flushed.

Erin scooted over so they could both sit snuggled together in the chair, cradling her mug in both hands and watching the fire. "Yeah," she said contentedly, sipping her cocoa. "This is about perfect, I think." The setting was ideal, the scenario picturesque, and she would've been utterly comfortable except that being so close to Trevor in these circumstances was making her feel intensely uncomfortable in a way that was more exciting than unpleasant. Every inch of her skin that touched his felt more alive than the rest of her body, and she could feel her heart beginning to quicken the way it did when she was revving up for a fight. She took another sip of her cocoa and leaned back in the chair, trying to project nonchalance.

Miss Americana stared for just a moment before reacting, then nipped forward to corral the rogue head. "Looks like you have powers even you don't know about yet," she told him pleasantly, doing her best to catch hold of the head in a way that would neither expose her hands to the jets nor obscure the robot's senses. "Let's just wait a moment for your body to catch up to us," she suggested.

With wood this dry and a raised grate, Erin could've laid and started a fire in under a minute, even without matches. She'd had a lot of experience under more adverse conditions. This was Trevor's house, though, and most guys liked messing around with fireplaces and grills and things like that. She tucked herself into one side of one of the big comfy chairs to watch, sipping her cocoa and enjoying the quiet old-house noises as the mansion settled around them.

She chuckled, though the sound was a little breathless after the quick embrace. Having something else to think about did help drive off the melancholy, she had to admit. "No cereal," she told him firmly, making a face. "Those aren't even real marshmallows. They're like... fruit-flavored styrofoam peanut bites. And there'll be a date on the top or bottom that says when it's best before. After that, it's probably stale anyway, unless it hasn't been opened. If it's a sealed bag, a lot of times it'll be fine for ages after the code date. But it's still not good for cocoa." She ladled a bit of cocoa into a mug and tasted it, then nodded with satisfaction and divided out the rest. "Doesn't need marshmallows anyway. It's good."

Erin grinned at him. "You don't need to go very far for that. If it doesn't start with a C and end with "offee," I know it's not your drink of choice. But you'll like this. Cocoa and hot cider were the first things I ever learned to make on a stove. I even learned how to froth milk just for cocoa. Cause it was Seattle, you know, but I wasn't old enough for real coffee." Her smile faded a little, grew more wistful, but didn't go away. She dumped in another packet of cocoa for good measure. "I don't guess you have any marshmallows."

Erin looked up at the change in tone and caught Trevor's expression. "Oh," she said, curious at the sudden change, then steered wide to avoid the topic. She was the last person to push someone else on history they didn't want to talk about. "Must've been a long time ago, some of this stuff is really vintage. Still works fine, though." She dumped a couple of packets of cocoa powder into the milk, stirred. "How chocolatey do you like it?"

That got a snicker from Erin as she rummaged through the drawers for a stirring spoon. "Is it weird that hearing that kind of makes me feel better?" she asked rhetorically. Oddly enough, the utensils and silverware in the drawers were nearly organized, though they had the look of stuff that had been bought decades ago. A chemist and an engineer, she supposed, would be the type to respect tools even if they didn't know how to use them. "I mean, I've got all kinds of messed up weird issues, it's nice that you at least have bad habits." She found a wooden spoon and a hot pad with a pattern of geese on it in a cupboard and began to stir the milk, studying the directions on the cocoa. "Who set up the kitchen?" she asked Trevor. "I mean, it obviously wasn't you or your grandpa, right?"

"Oh, well then," Erin deadpanned, craning her head to get a good look at the house as they walked through it. Not just for tactical reasons, though that was a big part of it. It was a very impressive house! She had a hard time imagining growing up in a house like this, which seemed a little more like a museum to her, but then she'd grown up in a cookie-cutter suburb where none of the houses were older than her parents. The kitchen was a little different, brighter and warmer, as though it had seen the touch of a different hand in its design. It wasn't stocked very well though. Their search turned up a box of cocoa mix, but only a forlorn half-gone quart of milk that was past its sell-by date in the fridge. Further searching turned up a can of evaporated milk to serve as a substitute, and soon the cocoa was heating on the stove. Erin leaned against the counter and looked around. "So, lot of take-out for you guys?"

It wasn't like Erin purposely watched Trevor while he was changing shirts or anything, but it was hard not to at least notice when he stripped off his shirt practically right in front of her. And it was also impossible not to note the fact that the workouts were continuing to look really good on him, if she were going to be shallow enough to pay attention to that... Erin gave up and watched Trevor put on his shirt, then followed him into the house. "Closest kitchen?" she asked curiously. "How many kitchens do you have?" She slipped her hand into his as they walked, deciding to take his word for it that Travis would be making himself scarce.

"Ah." Erin scratched her ear, glad that it was getting dark, for all she knew Trevor could see the heat that rose in her cheeks anyway. "Well then, that works too. I make pretty good hot cocoa." It wasn't too long before they were back in North Bay and pulling into the lighted garage of the Hunter mansion. Leaving the car on the upper level for now, they cleaned up the last of the tools and detritus from the tune-up, and somewhat belatedly, Erin remembered to strip off the coverall she'd been wearing.

That drew a smile from Erin, even as she tugged the vent shut. "Sold," she told him, leaning back in her seat. "I hear it is supposed to get cold tonight. We could even see some more snow." It wasn't that Erin didn't appreciate having the dorm to live in, especially with graduation starting to loom larger and larger in her mind. As room and board went, Claremont was a really good situation to be in for a homeless indigent. But she couldn't deny that it got awfully monotonous and bland after awhile. An evening in front of a fireplace with hot cocoa sounded really good, even though none of it sounded exactly geared towards her keeping her cool. "Is your grandpa going to be around?" she asked.

Earth Prime Wander didn't enjoy being face to face with Dr. Atom, one reason she tended to avoid places like the Goodman Building whenever she could. But he could access this place freely too, of course, and she would deal with that. They had far bigger concerns right now. "There didn't seem to be anything in particular that provoked the rift," she volunteered. "We didn't see any villain there, no explosion, nothing like that. The plane was there, but it seemed like it was affected by the rift, not the other way around." Earth Paragons Wander pushed her sodden hair back from her face and tried her best to regain her professional mien. On the off-chance the world wasn't about to end, she wanted to make a good impression on one of the most influential members of the Freedom League. "We have two more still coming, sir," she reported. "Sage is on her way, escorted by Midnight, a vigilante who was helping us at the levee. She and Cobalt Templar can give the most detailed report about the interior of the rift, but Edge was the only one on scene when it actually appeared." She looked over to Mark and Corbin.

Erin flushed slightly, the color just visible in the fading light. "Um, no. Just thought I'd get a little air." She felt altogether too warm actually, despite the bracing bite of the wind. She was glad, not for the first time, that she didn't have tells like Trevor's occasional smokiness, or she might be surrounded by a perpetual cloud of confusion. "And, ah, you can hear the engine better with the window open, and the wheels and stuff," she improvised. "Are you cold?" she thought to ask only belatedly.