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Ch. 15.3 – Sara

Sara lounged on the recliner, looking around the now-empty living room. Relax. Relax, Sara. It’s going to be fine. We’ve got three Primes, an angel, and some of the greatest Majestics who’ve ever lived on this. She glanced towards the bedroom she shared with Alex. My knight. You know what we’re getting into, don’t you? The Weaver grinned. I’ll give you a little longer to brood. Then…

Her gaze shifted to watch Akira as the Anshin came into the living room. The smell of mint drifted in around him. “Is everything all right, my lady Weaver?”

“Sure. We’re just walking into an obvious trap after getting lucky more times than anyone has a right to.” Sara twitched her fingers in the air, gently directing the Weave. “We might make our own luck, but that only works for so long.”

“Mmm,” Akira averred. “What do you think of the plan?”

Sara looked up sharply. Akira’s expression remained calm and polite. Okay, I’ll play along. She straightened. “It’s probably the best plan we’re going to get,” Sara observed. “We know Travis is probably expecting us. Alex and Molly came up with a way to neutralize his home field advantage that’s better than anything I can imagine. Still, West is a clever bastard, and the Skeptic is probably as ready for Alex as he’ll ever be.”

Akira raised an eyebrow. “No concerns about the Vision bond?”

Sara indulged in a snort. “I’ve already been in every nook of Alex’s head, and it’s beautiful in there. As for the others, I’m a cynic. I expect I’ll learn things about them I won’t like. If not, I’ll be pleasantly surprised.” She flashed him a wry grin. “But that’s not why you wanted to talk to me alone, is it?”

“No,” Akira admitted, glancing away briefly. “Sara, do you know how you caused Alex to, well, become a Prime?”

The Weaver’s eyes widened. “I thought I just got really lucky, even for me,” she breathed. “There was a Blaze Prime – packet, blessing, whatever – available, and Alex was worthy.”

“He was worthy,” Akira agreed, “but there was no Prime Blessing available at the time.” Sara gasped. What? The Anshin shrugged. “I was not aware of this when we first met, but after your return to the Garden – Earth – I did some investigating.” Sara felt pinned by Akira’s gentle gaze. “Sara Taylor, you created a Prime Blessing, the first time that has happened since the Anshin-Daimani truce.”

Sara grasped for words, but was forced to settle for, “How?”

“The Majestic working responsible for the Prime Blessings was vast, epic, and wondrous, but ultimately, it was a working like any other. Logically, it can be recreated.” Akira hunched beside her. “I thought it best to reveal this to you privately.” Sara nodded mutely. After a few seconds, Akira straightened. “If you wish to talk further, I will be with Wonder Rose.”

“I think I’ll go find Alex, actually,” Sara whispered. Akira smiled, nodded, and left. Slowly, she stood, gathered what wits she could find, and went into their bedroom.

There, as she expected, Alex was sitting alone, hands clasped, looking out the window. He was back to regular T-shirt and jeans, close-cropped hair as wild as it could get at that length. “The penny for your thoughts,” she quipped, smiling as he squawked and jumped up, “would be dreadful indeed.”

“God help me, I’ve got you punning,” Alex groaned. “How bad is it?”

Sara shook her head and took his hand. “It’s fine. I’ll explain after you tell me why you’re trying to out-brood the goth.” In the morning, she decided.

Alex caressed her cheek. “Why do you love me?” he asked.

“Copycat,” Sara teased.

“I was thinking ‘turnabout,’ myself,” Alex retorted gently,

Surrendering with a laugh, Sara nodded, then kissed Alex gently on the nose. “Fair enough. I’ve got a list too, but entirely aside from the heroics, the kindness, the sex, and even the art – which we need to talk about, sunboy – it’s really simple.” She released his hand, wrapped her arms around his waist, and pressed her cheek against his shoulder. “We match.”

“That’s…kind of circular,” Alex replied hesitantly.

“You shine where the dark is cold and empty, and you’re shadow where the dark is who I am.” She caressed his back with one hand. “For the parts of me that need a beat, you’re metal and techno. The parts that need calm and gentle get Air on the G String.” Sara chuckled. “There are so many bad places I can go with that…”

“Isn’t that how you’re supposed to start?” Alex asked, fingers flowing through her hair. Sara clamped down on a shudder. “Giving your partner what they want?”

“You’re talking about the dating mask,” Sara explained. “Sure, you work at it, but not to get me into bed or for an arm trophy. We work at keeping what we have because it’s worth having.” She slid back, hug receding to hand holding. “My bits of poetry meant that we fit together. We match just enough, complement in all the right places.” She gave his arm a gentle tug, luring him away from the window. “All teasing aside, I even like the way you brood. If you didn’t, at least a little, what would I distract you from?”

Alex stopped, her pulling suddenly in vain. “This is serious, Sara.”

Her own grin vanished. “Exactly. Your comic book symbolism is an ideal, not a delusion. Alexander, ‘protector of men’ – regardless of gender identity, which I very much appreciate – you know that being the good guy doesn’t give you a win button. There’s depth and heart underneath that Captain Beacon T-shirt. It’s what makes you the good guy.” She tapped him on the chest and smiled again. “You’ve trusted me with the most precious part of yourself. What did you expect?”

Alex gave up and laughed. “What would I do without you?”

“Serve coffee and stare at empty word bubbles until your forehead bleeds,” Sara shot back. “Now throw me onto the bed already. What, do you need a road map?”

“Yes ma’am,” Alex conceded. Sara laughed, then squealed in surprise when she found herself floating through the air.

Written by Peter Flanagan

Peter Flanagan was born in the Bronx, New York, giving him the right to root for the Yankees while making less than six figures. After a long, largely pleasant interregnum in suburban Connecticut, he moved to the Inland Empire, California to be with his wonderful wife and muse, a stepson, and a crazed feline. An occasionally too-avid player of and writer for tabletop roleplaying games, his other passion is metaphysics, which informs most of his fiction.

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