Leah's cell phone rang just as she stepped into the shower. She ignored it. Whoever was calling would just have to wait. Instead she concentrated on showering away the slime in her hair and clinging to her skin everywhere that her cloak, leather skirt or boots hadn't covered her. The fabric of her leggings and tank top wasn't thick enough to prevent that vile goo from soaking through to her skin.

(Jesus Christ,) Leah thought. (Snot Man. Who the fuck would voluntarily call himself Snot Man?)

For that matter, who would voluntarily grapple with the asshole? Iron Maiden, that's who. Paladin might have been a better choice—getting this disgusting goo all over his armor had to be less disgusting than getting it on your skin, right? But he'd been busy dealing with Firebug, stopping him from burning down the neighborhood. Lotus and Shimmer wouldn't have done any better than Leah had, even if they hadn't been fighting Kamikaze.

(Now that, at least, was a good name,) Leah thought as she scrubbed at her skin with a steel brush. Kamikaze meant 'Divine Wind' in Japanese. Kamikaze wasn't, despite the common association of the term with suicidal Japanese pilots, suicidal. He was a weather controller. Between his winds and Firebug's flame throwers, they might well have created a huge firestorm.

“Dammit,” Leah muttered, dropping the loofah she'd been using. The slime had dried into a tacky substance that adhered like super glue.

She grabbed a long-handled steel bristle brush she kept in her shower stall for just such emergencies. Fortunately she could use the steel brush to scrub away this shit. God help anyone with normal skin who got this crap all over them. It took a good long while to scrub the stuff away, especially to get it out of her hair. By the time Leah had turned off the water and begun toweling off her phone was ringing again.

Leah drifted free of the floor and over to the bedside table. It was Rachel calling. Leah picked up the phone and flipped it open. “Hello, Rachel.”

“Leah, hey! How's it going?”

“Swell,” Leah said sourly.

“Yeah,” Rachel said. “Snot Man? Really?”

“Christ,” Leah said. “It's on the news already?”

“Complete with some really, uh, charming pictures. You're on the front page of What Would Tyler Durden Do. There's... a bunch of pictures.“

Leah covered her face with her hand for a moment. What Would Tyler Durden Do was a juvenile website devoted to posting photos of starlets and super heroines in order to drool over them, especially over nude shots, costume mishaps and the like—or to mock them for their many (and often imaginary) failings. Or both. “How bad is it?” she asked Rachel.

“Uh...” Rachel said, and Leah's heart sank. “You know how you told me Wild Lotus suggested that you wear the skirt when you guys were just starting out? So you had a little more coverage than just the tights? In case of awkward photographs?”

“...yes,” Leah said. (Oh god....)

“You should really thank her,” Rachel said. “Sincerely.”

“I will,” Leah said. “I'll buy her drinks tonight.”

“Oh?” Rachel said. “Are you going out?”

“Yeah, Lotus is taking us to a jazz club she knows. 'Us' being me and Shimmer.” Leah glanced at the clock. “Speaking of which, I need to get a move on. Scrubbing that shit off my skin took a lot longer than I thought it would.”

“Fine,” Rachel said in a mock pout. “I know when I'm being given the bum's rush.”

Leah smiled. “I promise to call you later and we'll talk.”

“Sure,” Rachel said, and Leah could hear the smile in her voice too. “You say that now. You just want to get rid of me. I see how it is. The handwriting's on the wall! Oh yes, I understand--”

“Goodbye, Rachel,” Leah said, and hung up as Rachel continued her tirade.

Leah finished drying off, then started primping for her night out. She decided on a short, strapless teal dress and a darker wrap around her shoulders, which she could discard—or wear—depending on just how daring she felt like being. A pair of matching shoes, a silver necklace and a purse finished the look. A little make-up and...voila!

Leah left her room and went looking for Amrita.

It had taken considerably less time for Wild Lotus to resume life as Amrita Singh, showering off and zipping into the "little black dress" she kept at HQ for just such occasions. With her talents, she could have 'ported home for whatever she wanted, and almost as easily, but it just made sense to keep a minimal wardrobe there for the odd moments when transporting herself through plants wasn't an option. A silk scarf painted in emerald and black, a tiny silver chain belt and other bits of jewelry, enough cosmetics to look "civilized," as her father termed it, and she was ready to find Anna and Leah and head to San Francisco for an evening of jazz, Amaretto Sours, and the company of the two women in this world who were her friends no matter which identity she was wearing.

She'd slipped over to Anna's rooms and was chatting companionably with her when Leah arrived.

Anna had felt a bit under dressed in her bluejeans and black sequined top, but she shrugged it off as she pulled on her high heeled black boots. As she spoke lightly with Amrita she ran a brush through her long dark brown hair until it fell into some semblance of order.

"So..what do you do at a jazz club? Can't say as I've ever been to one before." She put on some dark brown lipstick and stuck it in her pocket.

"Listen to the music, maybe sit in on a set if you're inclined," Amrita said, admiring the chocolaty richness of Anna's hair in the light. "Have a few of whatever makes you happy." She grinned a little. "Dance? Talk? Flirt? Have fun? It's not any different than any other club, I suppose."

"Good." Anna seemed relieved. "I was hoping it wasn't all formal and classy, these boots are too big to fit in my mouth."

"Don't forget 'fight the guys off with a stick,'" Leah added. "Three good looking gals like us? It can't go any other way."

Anna laughed at that. "Now, that, sounds like my kind of bar.

"I'm looking forward to drinking a few Cosmopolitans, eating some good food, listening to the music. Maybe dancing with some good looking guys. Maybe more. We'll have to see."

Amrita nodded, and turned to examine her behind in the mirror, as every woman has ever done since mirrors were invented. "Well, we won't find out by hanging out here." She grinned at them both in the mirror. "I propose we exit through the front lobby, ladies. I think it's likely our male teammates are still in the vicinity and we should let them drool over what they're missing, yes?"

A big wide grin stole upon Anna's face at the mention of their male comrades.

"You got that right," Leah said. "That grinding sound you're about to hear will be the guys grinding their teeth in envy of the guys we'll meet at the club.

Leah was really looking forward to this outing, and had been ever since Amrita had proposed it a few days ago. Just going out together to listen to music and have fun had sounded like a great idea. It had been a long week. When she wasn't practicing with her team mates, Leah had been working hard on her latest novel. She hadn't seen the outside of the Guardians' combat simulator or her home office until the scrap today.

Dressing up to the nines and getting some ego-boo from (ideally) hot guys at the jazz club sounded even better after her encounter with Snot Man. "Come on," Leah said, floating toward the stairs that led down to the main level--flying was never going to get old--"let's go show 'em what they're missing tonight."

Anna held open the door to her room as the other two filed out in front of her. "It'll be all we can do to keep Sniper from wanting to join us. Although something tells me that he'd be about as comfortable in a jazz club as whore in church."

Amrita laughed aloud at that and clapped her hands. It was a simile she'd never heard before. "Oh that is good. I'll have to remember it. `A whore in church'," she giggled, leading the way to the elevator and punching for the lobby. "If you want to take him another time, let me know -- I will be happy to provide transportation, but you provide the camera. I want pictures!"

"I wouldn't mind taking him out." Anna smiled a sultry smile. "He's hawt."

Leah smiled at Anna's enthusiasm. She shrugged delicately. "He's not bad looking, but he's not really my type I guess." She glanced sidelong at Amrita. "And we know Amrita's type, don't we?"

"The type that will take a girl out to dance on the fifty-yard line at Invesco Field," she agreed dreamily, then laughed again. "But! My dream date is working this evening, or so he says. And I have had precious little girl-time of late. So while the cat is away..."

Their entrance into the lobby was gratifying -- Dr. Murray and Avi Gross both did double-takes, and there was a low whistle of appreciation from where Lou Jenkins sat, monitoring the displays behind the desk. Amrita threw a playful wink ad Jim Murray. By the time he'd gotten the courage to ask her out she'd already begun dating Jack pretty steadily, but it never hurt to let a man know his interest was appreciated.

As the trio of Greek Sirens slipped elegantly through the lobby on their way out, another door opened and shut again. As if conjured like a djin by the mention of his name alone, Ivan Chekhov (smartly dressed in a black on black suit) strode purposefully across the foyer.

His attention fixed on the final folding and straightening of his tie, he nearly missed the candied vixens. When he did finally glance up, his step barely faltered. He smirked without a hint of irony and gave a curt nod as he passed. "Ladies," he greeted them simply.

Amrita nodded politely, her "nice girl" smile firmly in place. Ivan Chekhov's ever-present smirk irritated her in ways she couldn't easily understand or explain, so she tended to avoid him when possible and simply stay quiet around him when it was not.

"Sniper." Anna smiled at him as she gave him a quick once over. "You're looking good. Where are you off to?"

He grinned. "Drinking. Dancing. Riding. Who knows? Ze night is young, nyet?"

Ivan made it to the door first and held it open for the women. He seemed almost distracted, smiling roguishly again as they passed. He gave them each a glance. Leah, Amrita, and...

Anna? Did he notice her before? Perhaps not. He looked again, not concerned about staring. His eyes swept down and up again.

"Nice jeans," he said finally. His eyes matched his smirk. She couldn't tell if he was kidding. But he was still looking.

Anna laughed lightly as she passed. "Nah. They're just jeans. It's all about my nice ass."

There was a pause where a faintly audible whir and click noise was heard. Sniper's head slowly shook with immeasurable satisfaction.

"Iz so true..."

Leah laughed. "Words to live by if I ever heard some. 'It's all about your nice ass." She smiled and nodded to Ivan, acknowledging him for holding the door. "Thank you, sir," she said. "You are a scholar and a gentleman."

"Neither," he replied matter-of-factly. Then, as if a perfect explanation: "Russian."

Leah paused to study him for a moment, a smile turning up one side of her mouth. "Duly noted," she said.

He paused before heading to the motor pool for his bike. "You ladies are going somevere... eh, specific, dah?"

"We're off to a jazz club, yes. A place Amrita is familiar with, I've never been. But any chance to hear some good music, drink, dance and who knows what else? Gotta take it."

"Jazz?" He repeated, somehow simultaneously a question and not. He slipped on a pair of dark, expensive sunglasses.

Anna gave him a lazy smile as she regarded him. Wondering why he was wearing sunglasses at night.

"San Francisco, here we come," Amrita agreed, smiling in genuine delight at the mention of the words. "I sometimes envy Shimmer and Iron Maiden their ability to fly, but I must confess -- instant transport to almost anywhere on the planet is not a trade I'd lightly make!"

"Nor would I," came a modulated male voice from across the room. Paladin's armored form walked his purposeful walk over to the trio of well-dressed women. "Strictly from a team perspective, it's tactically unsound."

The tall woman's eyes glinted mischievously at that, but she bit back the good-humored retort that wanted to escape. She knew Paladin did, in fact, think about something other than the Guardians sometimes, but he'd never betray that in front of the team and wouldn't appreciate her doing so, either.

"Whew!" Leah said, miming wiping her brow. "Glad to hear it. I wouldn't trade flying for love or money. Teleporting is nice, but it ain't flying."

His helmet's face mask hid his eyes but it was obvious that he had given them the once over on his way towards them. Armor being what it is, there were no outward signs, high or low, of either approval or disapproval.

When he spoke, it was to Wild Lotus and genial, yet professional. "Expecting a late evening?"

"No," Amrita said, smiling impishly. "Nor do I expect an early one. I wouldn't wait up, though. I haven't had my fingers on the ivories in a very long time. I've been known to close down Savanna on a night when the music is hot, and the Amaretto Sours are cold."

"You keep mentioning these Amaretto Sours," Leah said to Amrita. "I think I'll have to try one."

Paladin's easy laugh sounded almost menacing through the modulator. "You three have a good time," he said, "but remember, we've got a combat training session tomorrow at nine AM sharp."

Walking away, he added, "And no mercy for the hung over."

Anna laughed at Paladin's last remark, knowing she'd be reminded of that harshly in the morning.

"No mercy for the hung over?" Leah stage-whispered to Amrita and Anna. "That would imply that he's been merciful to the non-hung over, and I'm not seeing it." She turned to look in Paladin's direction, speaking normally now. "He's a slave driver. A slave driver, I tells ya!"

Amrita laughed with the rest of them, but forebore answering to get them all out the door. She had her suspicions about why the man chose to stay inside that armor rather than interacting with his teammates as a normal human being, but kept them to herself. Neither he nor Singularity Man could continue to withhold themselves from them indefinitely without negative effects to the team as a whole -- but that was a discussion for another time. For now, the aspens just outside had already turned golden, reflecting the outdoor lights with their brilliance. She reached out for Leah's hand, then Anna's, excitement sparkling in her green eyes.

"San Francisco, here we come!" With that, she took two steps backward toward the largest aspen tree in the courtyard, not needing her own eyes to know exactly where it was. It seemed to those watching that the tree simply embraced her with itself -- and slowly, because she felt like playing and knew the effect was creepy to watch if one wasn't used to it. To Amrita, entering the World Root, as she'd come to call it, felt a lot like coming home. To Anna and Leah, who now had a bit more exposure to the phenomenon, it was a moment of the cool green coniferous forest, the steaming pulse of the tropical jungle, rose gardens and peat bogs and brambles and cotton, the center of Gaia consciousness and the were traveling through it for just that heartbeat of a moment....

And then they were in the backyard of Amrita's San Francisco house. She'd sent a text message to her father earlier, asking him to stop by and turn on the lights for her, especially the string of outdoor lights she used for indirect illumination. It was a tiny yard, as most city spaces were, but it was adequate for her needs -- and private, which was the biggest one.

"Well here we are," she said, unnecessarily. "Shall we call for a cab? Or fly?"

"Really, 'Rita," Leah said. "You know me better than that. I'd always rather fly. But sadly, I suspect that three babes like us descending from the heavens might be a bit...conspicuous. A cab would be a bit more discreet."

"You got it." She reached for her phone and flipped it open, thumb hitting speed dial 6 without having to look. Indijit's cell phone was ringing in her ear as she slotted a sly glance at Anna. "Have you ever been in Frisco before?"

"Nope. I'm a Chicago girl...never really left the state much before moving to Denver. New York City a few times but that's about it."

"Stick with us," Leah said, "and you'll see a lot of San Francisco before you're through. We're both Frisco girls. There's plenty to see and do in this city and with Amrita around, living in Denver is no excuse not to see it early and often."

Their tall friend laughed. "Actually, I was thinking of her reaction when the cab starts up Divisadero -- oh, hello!" And with that, she switched to Hindustani and arranged for their cab.

Leah, Amrita and Anna stood and chattered until the cab arrived. Once they were seated, the cab took off. It was...an experience.

Leah hadn't been a good passenger since she learned to drive. As a child she could spend hours in the car reading, never looking up. Once she was a driver, she couldn't not watch the road--whether she was driving or not. She hadn't gotten any better since she'd discovered she could fly.

If anything she was worse. Leah Wright took a lot of phantom cabs to explain how she got from place to place in San Francisco--or in Denver these days. So, sitting in the back of the cab peering intently over the driver's shoulder as the cab careened through traffic, it was all Leah could do not to be a backseat driver. Or to crush the armrest whenever she tensed up--even knowing she would be unhurt if they did have an accident.

"Are we there yet?" she asked.

"Savanna's in the Mission District," Amrita said. In contrast to the other two, she was perfectly relaxed. "Not an upscale, ritzy part of town but that's always where you find the best jazz -- where people learn how to improvise just to survive."

The red awning on the front simply said "Savanna" in an art-deco kind of white lettering. The place wasn't packed but there were plenty of people inside, some dining, some at the bar, most listening to the group of musicians onstage. The sign at the door said "Thursday Night Jam" and it was pretty obvious that everyone was already having a good time.

Once inside, they found a 1930's speakeasy decor, low light, polished hardwoods, jazz LP's on the walls, warm ambiance. The hostess seated them at a table between the bar and the stage, left them menus and place settings, took their drink orders, told them a server would be with them shortly, then smiled and left. The musicians were working their way through a version of "Lush Life" that wasn't terribly inspired, but at least allowed them to talk.

"Who is hungry?" Amrita asked. "The food is a kind of West African-Creole kind of fusion cuisine -- really good."

Anna's stomach rumbled at the mere mention of food, she was from a robust Italian family, and her appetite was always high on her list of priorities. Second was her grueling work outs to burn the calories from her overzealous appetite. "African Creole? What the hell is that?!"

She grabbed up the menu and stared at it for a few moments, her face creased in dismay at the menu selections. Finally though, a smile broke out on her face. "Savanna Burger and Fries. That'll do me." She grinned and looked at the men at the bar, "...and then one of those should do me just fine as well."

"No appetizers?" Leah asked. She decided on the Assiette Savanna plate--a selection of several appetizers that sounded worth trying. Puffed pastries with beef and herb filling; plantains with salsa and chicken wings with sweet and spicy sauce. What's not to like? Then she looked at Anna. "Only one?"

Leah had been looking around, studying the decor. It was a very nice place, lots of atmosphere. The music was nice, though not amazing. She looked at Amrita. "You know, I knew of this place when I was living here--but I never got around to coming down.

"What can I say?" she said, "I'm not the jazz fan some people are. Now, did I hear you right? Did you mention playing tonight?"

"I did," the tall Indian woman agreed, directing her friends' attention over to the bar. The trio of beauties was attracting quite a bit of speculative attention already. "And unless I miss my guess, you both will have much to occupy you while I do."

Anna's blue eyes twinkled with an unreal quality as she grinned at Amrita.

Leah looked at Amrita with amazement. "Will wonders never cease? I can't believe I've known you all this time and didn't know you played!" They'd been friends before the Chimera virus had changed their lives forever, but not nearly as close as they'd become afterward. Not surprisingly, the changes wrought in their bodies by the virus and learning to master their new abilities--to say nothing of joining the Guardians--had occupied a great deal of their time.

Clearly they still had things to learn about one another. "I'm looking forward to hearing you play," Leah said.

Impulsively, Amrita reached over to cover Leah's hand with her own, just for a moment. "I had really only started playing again in the last year or so, my friend. And have felt a little shy about it -- I realize not everyone likes jazz.." She squeezed Leah's hand, then claimed her water glass, for in truth, she was a little nervous about playing in public, still. "I just hope you enjoy it."

"I'm sure I will," Leah said. "Well, as long as it's not--" she made air quotes with her fingers "--'Hateful Free Form Jazz'." At Amrita's blank look Leah said, "Kids in the Hall routine? No? Never mind....I'm looking forward to it."

She looked toward the bar at Amrita's direction. Sure enough, several men there were eying the three of them--some more subtly than others. Leah studied them each in turn, before turning her attention back to Amrita and Anna. "Any bets of which of them--if any--will have nerve to approach us?"

Anna followed Leah's gaze to the bar for a longer look this time. "I don't know. Unless a man is wearing boots, I can't read their mind. ...well...I could." She smiled devilishly, "...but I wouldn't."

Large green eyes turned onto the team mentalist, sparkling and speculative. "Boots? All right, I'll bite -- what do boots have to do with it?"

Leah raised her hand. "Seconded. You can't read a man's mind unless he's wearing boots? Or won't? Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, over?"

"Ah...shit. I dunno. It's hard to explain." She smiled sheepishly and shrugged her shoulders. "It's just a stereotype I guess. It just seems to me, that a man in a nice pair of worn cowboy boots, thinks he's heaven sent to talk up a pretty lady. And it doesn't matter how pretty. Throw a hotty in front of him and he'll be chatting her up in two seconds flat. ...and it totally works...at least it does it for me."

Amrita met Leah's glance, then both women conspicuously leaned over to look down at the footwear of the men along the bar. "I'll have to remember that," Amrita said thoughtfully, remembering Jack's recent predilection for cowboy boots....

"Cowboy boots," Leah said thoughtfully. "That's not a variable I've been paying attention to, I have to admit." But maybe there was something to it. She'd have to start watching for it.

Two of the men at the bar were in cowboy boots. One of them noticed the scrutiny. He glanced down at his boots and then back at the three of them with an amused expression. He lifted one foot and turned his foot to one side and then the other to show off his boot. Lowering his foot again he picked up his drink and turned to look at the three of them of again for a moment.

Leah shared looks with Amrita and Anna. They all laughed. "Okay, point made," Leah said under her breath. "I think we can expect first contact in five...four...three...."

"Hello there," he said with a charming smile. His eyes danced among theirs as he made his approach, never committing to any one more than the others. He turned to Leah and smoothly said with a slight nod of introduction, "Lawrence," then to Amrita, "Bourne," and then to Anna, "the third."

Once again addressing himself to all three at once, he said, "The three of you sitting there uncomfortably studying my footwear remind me of the witches in Macbeth, but of course much more charming and with far better teeth."

Anna gave him an easy smile, she could honestly say it was the first time she'd been compared to a witch. Macbeth was a bit too much for her own tastes but she had to give him credit for pulling it off.

The smooth operator paused to gauge their sense of humor and then added, "Tell me, what brings you to this neck of the woods? You're certainly not locals."

"Au contraire, born and raised here," Amrita quipped, easily directing attention to her friends."So was Leah, but Anna is our guest from Chicago."

Anna nodded when Amrita introduced her. It was already obvious from the way she was dressed in blue jeans that she was the odd man out. "Yeah. Amrita thought it was a sin that I'd never been to a good jazz club. ...so she insisted on bringing us to the best." She glanced down at his boots again and tried to keep a grin off of her face, quite pleased that he was proving her point so nicely.

"I see you noticed us looking at your boots," Leah said. "The question is, was that what prompted you to walk over here or would you have introduced yourself anyway?"

"You see, Anna here," Leah nodded at Anna, "was just telling us her theory of cowboy boots. Specifically that men who wear cowboy boots are the most likely to approach a woman and chat her up. But since you saw us looking at them, that might have changed your reaction. So tell us, what made you walk over here. And remember, this is for Posterity, so--be honest."

Anna nearly groaned as Leah outed her theory. She half covered her face with one of her slender hands, but it did nothing to hide the color that crept into her cheeks.

Lawrence chuckled once at Leah, pointed knowingly at her and said, "I've seen that movie, Buttercup."

Leah didn't say anything but recognizing her quote from The Princess Bride won him some points with her. He'd seen it and remembered it well enough to catch her reference to it.

Turning to Anna, he explained, "I would have come over to talk to you anyway. I'm a social creature by nature and I enjoy meeting new people. But I'm also of the opinion that, since I'm given the choice, I much prefer meeting people who are at least as physically attractive as I hope their conversation will be."

Anna quirked an eyebrow at Leah, as if to say I told you so.. "Of course you would have." The blue eyed beauty grinned at him. "Would you like to join us for a bit?"

He took a drink from the bartender which he must have ordered previously. It looked like a whiskey, neat. He took a sip and then regarded the three of them with a smile that was still charming, but now had a sardonic element to it. "Somehow I don't think that will be an issue with you three," he guessed while accepting the invitation by moving a seat into a position where he could face all three of them and then sitting.

Their waitress returned then with their drinks as well. An Amaretto Sour for Amrita, a Cosmopolitan for Leah and a long island for Anna. "Would you like some more time to look at the menu, or are you ready to order?" she asked.

"Bring us a platter of Assiette Savanna for at least four, I think, Amrita nodded. "We'll order dinner later. And this," she added, handing the woman a folded slip of paper between two long, elegant fingers, "to the stage, if you would please."

"Wait!" Anna said a bit too urgently to the waitress. "I don't know what she just ordered. But I'll take some of those Savanna fries...please."

The waitress smiled and bounced toward the kitchen by way of the stage, the little trio on stage having moved into a cover of Sweet Georgia Brown.

"Any requests?" Amrita asked them, smiling in nervous excitement. "I'm likely to forget every song I know the instant I sit down at the keyboard."

Leah laid a hand on Amrita's to convey her support. "I'm afraid I don't know many jazz songs by name and none come to mind immediately. I'm more of a swing and big band girl myself. So unless you know Zoot Suit Riot or something like, you're on your own. But I'm sure you'll do fine."

Leah smirked a little. "Besides, I know you perform well under pressure--so don't worry. You'll be great."

"Yeah." Anna agreed her voice full of confidence. "You'll do great. I couldn't name a jazz song if my life depended on it. ...and somehow I don't think I'll be able to two-step to it either."

"Probably not," Leah said. She turned toward their guest. "So tell me, Laurence Bourne the Third," she said, "what do you do when you're not schmoozing with young ladies in jazz clubs?"

"Wish that I was," came the quick, witty response. "Seriously though, I'm into the family business: import/export. I can't stand a desk job, so I travel a lot and seek out opportunities. So when I'm not schmoozing pretty ladies such as yourself, I'm schmoozing foreign government officials, cross-border banking representatives, factory owners, and so on. Mainly I schmooze."

He shrugged, smiling. "It's what I'm good at, and I believe in going with your strengths. And what about you lovely ladies?"

He certainly was confident of his schmoozing abilities. And perhaps rightly so. There was thin line between confident and overbearing and he hadn't strayed across it--not so far. Leah smiled.

"I write," she said. "Fiction by preference, but technical writing pays the bills." Or at least the checks for her Guardians salary were payable to Leah Wright for billable hours as a technical writer. They came from a number of different companies. It allowed her to 'work from home' so she had a source of income the IRS wouldn't question and was free to function as a Guardian whenever she was needed.

"Really?" Lawrence said. "Would I have read anything of yours?"

"I don't know," Leah said. "Do you read science fiction magazines? Amazing Tales? F&SF? Asimov's?"

l>Lawrence looked thoughtful for a moment. "No," he said, after a moment. "I did watch Star Wars once. Does that count?" he asked with a wink.

Leah smiled again. "Then probably not."

"You're missing out," Amrita assured him. "Our friend can spin quite a story. And I now have autographed copies of all of them. My children will adore me for it, one day -- assuming I ever have any."

Lawrence matched Leah's smile with one of his own. "I'll keep an eye out the next time I find myself in a bookstore, or a library," he said with a tone that conveyed the sense that neither was a regular occurence for him. Then he looked at Amrita and Anna. "And what about you?"

Amrita had been about to answer, but the group on the stage wrapped up their set just then and her attention was suddenly quite distracted. She sipped her drink and watched the stage manager read through the lists, obviously nervous and excited.

"Okay, fifteen minute break, folks. Then we'll be hearing from... Ed Saunders on bass.... Tyler McGee on... tenor sax. And...." He flipped over a page, stared at it as if he wasn't sure of the name. "Aaaammmmreeta? Amreeta Singh? On piano."

Their tall Indian friend laughed nervously. "They always butcher my name," she confided.

Anna gave Amrita a wink before turning her sparkling blue eyes towards Lawrence. "I'm currently between jobs. I was a narcotics detective with the Chicago Police Department." She watched him for his reaction as she took a long draw from her her drink. She was enjoying how deftly he engaged them all in conversation, and it made her wonder what was going on in his mind.

"Really?" Lawrence replied, enjoying those eyes very much, and letting his own communicate the fact during a slight hesitation as he took a sip of his own drink. "Well, I've used narcotics in Chicago, so that's something we have in common," he joked smoothly.

Anna laughed at that, assuming it was nothing more than a joke. "Watch out eeLBee." She stretched his initials out as she reigned herself back in. "All that business about imports and exports, might get the wrong kind of person into your business with jokes like that."

He considered asking her why she stopped detective work, but that might lead somewhere uncomfortable and that wasn't on his agenda for this evening. Instead he followed up with, "Please, tell me more."

"It was a whole lotta hard. ...but I gotta kick a whole lotta ass and carry a gun, not to mention the doughnuts." Anna grinned and shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, but the light in her eyes dulled. "...so it could of been worse."

Leah listened attentively. That was more than she'd known about Anna's reasons for leaving the Chicago PD. For all the hard training they'd done together, and the work as Guardians, she really didn't know Anna all that well--not like she knew Amrita. She'd hoped to get to know Anna better tonight, and now that Laurence Bourne III was here, it looked like she would.

"I still think you should consider going back to school," Amrita told Anna, stepping in to deflect conversation away from a topic she knew would only bring the ex-cop down. "There's nothing like being on a campus full of cute young guys -- maybe in cowboy boots -- to make you think about the future." Rather than a past you cannot change, she thought, but didn't add.

Anna was quick to laugh at that, the familiar light reigniting in her eyes. "I don't know about that. While the cowboy boots hold promise...I'm not a big fan of school or young guys for that matter." She picked up her drink and leaned back in her chair, swirling the straw for a moment before taking another long draw.

Leah sipped her Cosmopolitan and leaned back in her chair. "I loved school," she said. "Especially as a kid. Now that I'm on my own, you couldn't pay me to go back to school." She paused and thought for a moment. "Okay, you could pay me--but you'd have to pay me a lot.

"Young men aren't so bad, though."

Lawrence smiled at the right moments and nodded at the right moments as he listened to these lovely young women. He sipped his drink and waited to see which would engage him in conversation, which would tell him something about who he might best try to work into a more private conversation.

A pause in the conversation threatened to grow uncomfortably long. They were rescued by the arrival of their waitress with the platters of appetizers, as well as small plates for each of them. Leah and the others busied themselves taking a few things to try. "You go first, 'Rita," Leah said. "You've only got a few minutes before you have to wow us all with your music."

When everyone had taken what they wanted, Leah looked at Laurence. "Import/Export, eh? And what exactly do you import and export?"

Anna reached over quickly and touched LB on the arm, her eyes wide with feigned alarm. "You don't have to answer that!" She grinned at him playfully as she finished off the rest of her drink, and dug into her Savanna Fries, with a bit more enthusiasm than a lady should. "Ranyrun warnt shome?"

"Aww, c'mon," Leah said with a laugh, "Inquiring minds want to know!" She reached over and snagged a couple of fries. "Sure, I'll try a couple," she said. She popped them in her mouth and ate them.

"Hey, those are pretty good," Leah added. Then she carefully picked up a pastry, filled with beef and herb stuffing. "So, Laurence, what about it?" she asked, then took a bite.

The tall and handsome man shrugged lightly and answered, "We're mainly speculative, so the contents of our shipments are always evolving. Instead of establishing relationships with a few large and regular suppliers, we go with the flow. If someone has a particularly hot commodity, or a particularly strong demand for a commodity, we work to satisfy the opportunity and then move on when it cools. It's riskier, and it forces you to have your fingers on the global pulse, but the margins are much larger if you're good at it."

Anna smiled at his response, the smile turned into a grin when she caught Leah's eye, and considered how vague and circumspect his answer was. She almost wondered if he had any idea what he actually did import and export, not that she really cared.

He took a sip and then added, to Anna, "It all comes down to finding something attractive and having the nerve to take a chance."

Anna nodded and tried to make her sparkling eyes look serious. "I see. Definitely not something that everyone finds easy to do. ...but I can admire that quality."

"And I admire your admiration," Lawrence reflected in a semi-joke. "The travel alone makes it worth the hours spent staying informed. It's less a job for me, really. I don't think you can enjoy something as much as I enjoy my work and still call it a job."

"Dharma," Amrita agreed simply, popping a plaintain in her mouth. She really was never hungry anymore, but sharing good food with friends was always enjoyable. She was about to add more to the conversation, but a tall black man with a set of beautiful dreadlocks (down to his hips!) approached their table.

"Geshunteit," Lawrence replied.

"You Amreeta?" He asked softly, by way of introduction.

"Yes, I'm Amrita," she said, turning her brilliant smile on the new arrival.

Apparently he heard the correction. "Amrita. Right. Ty McGee, on sax." He held out his hand. "Nice to meet you. Ed and me have jammed here before, but bein' as you're fresh and all, we wondered if we could talk to you for a few minutes before the set?" He gestured with his head over toward a middle-aged white guy, who smiled and waved a little when Amrita nodded.

"Of course, I'd like that," she smiled, then turned to her friends -- old and new -- so excited she was almost glowing. "Excuse me, I may not be back 'til the set is over. Enjoy!"

It was always fun to watch people's reactions when Amrita stood up around them for the first time. Her growth had finally topped out at 6'2" barefooted; the heels she wore pushed it closer to 6'4". Tyler's reaction was classic -- his eyes followed hers and just kept going up and up and up -- along with his eyebrows. She was at least half a foot taller than he, a fact he took with a certain amount of equanimity.

"Damn," he said softly. "What did your parents feed you, girl?"

"It's all Ayurveda," she promised him, sober expression belied by the twinkle in her eyes. "Shall we?"

"Break a leg," Lawrence offered.

"Thanks!"

Ty looked leaned back to look at Amrita's legs as she walked away. "Tha's a lot of leg to break, my man."

Leah leaned toward Anna, to stage whisper, "I think Amrita has a fan." In a more normal voice, she added, "And why not, with legs like those?"

Anna's mood was steadily on the rise from her downed drink, and she laughed heartily at the musician's comment. Amrita was simply stunning and she knew the crowd would be in for a treat. The waitress had seen her playing with her straw and quickly came over to see if she wanted another drink. "Another of the same, please. ...and a hamburger." ...then as an afterthought, "no pickles."

"I'd like another Cosmopolitan as well, please," Leah said. She hadn't finished her drink just yet, but she expected she'd need another by the time the waitress got back with one. She was methodically trying the appetizers, and they were uniformly good though she especially liked the meat and herb pastries. She caught Anna's eye and gestured at the appetizers. "Sure you don't want to try some of these?"

"Um...ok" Anna reached out with a slender finger and slowly started turning the plate to give the array a good looking over. Finally she picked up something and popped it into her mouth.

"Mmmm...not bad." Anna's eyes met Leah's for a moment, a hint of an unasked question in them. At the same time she pushed out softly with her mind and brushed it liglty against her friends, as she silently asked for permission to establish a link with her.

Leah paused momentarily with a plantain in hand. She felt Anna softly knock, knock, knocking. She took a bite of the plantain as she nodded very subtly. ('While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door...') Leah thought to herself--or possibly to Anna. (What's up?)

Anna's smile broadened for no apparent reason as Leah's mind opened to her. ('Actually, you already answered my question. Just wanted to make sure you weren't into him before I called dibs. He's totally got potential. ...but then again, Sniper was beginning to look damn good to me.') Her head tilted slightly at her own thought and she almost laughed.

(Sniper?) Leah thought. (Really?) Leah considered him for a moment. He wasn't bad looking, really. If you liked 'em tall, slavic and thoroughly Russian, anyhow--which wasn't really her type. She met Anna's eyes again and smiled. (Girl, you've got to get out more. Sounds like tonight's little adventure came none too soon!)

Leah's gaze slid over to Laurence for a moment, then back to Anna. (But to answer your question, he's all yours.)

(Well, I won't be that presumptuous. He has a bit more class than my usual... However, it might keep Sniper safe for a while longer.) The exchange only lasted a few moments, but Leah could tell that the link was still there if she wanted to use it. And she also knew that she could drop it with a mere thought if she wanted to.

Lawrence finished his drink and gestured to the bartender for another. Turning to Anna, he asked, "Do you know anything about jazz music?"

Anna had opened her mouth to speak at the same time as Lawrence, but she recovered quickly enough to hear his question. "Not even...a....little bit." She drew out her first words and rushed her last words in a quirky manner. "I was a breath or two away from being disowned...so...here I am. How about you? Are you a regular here, or just passing through on business?"

"A little of both, actually," he explained. "I find myself in these part for business maybe four or five times a year. The music here's good, so I try to stop by when I can."

He noted her attention to the tapas tray and thought it was probably time to see what was what. "You know, if you're hungry, you're in the right town. There's a great little restaurant just a block from here I think you'll like. We could go for a walk and check out the menu. What do you say?"

(Lawrence Bourne the Third, heaven sent in cowboy boots. What's a girl to do?) Anna sent the thought over the link to her friend, her mood tonight was decidedly more playful than her norm, and Leah could tell that it was more of a joke than a question.

(Take him for a test drive, of course,) Leah thought at Anna. (Find out if he's a Dream Date...or a Dud.)

Anna's lively eyes never left Lawrence's once he enganged her in conversation, by asking her about her familiarity with Jazz. She had an easy way about her and he could tell that she was into him. "I'd like that. ...but...I have to let Amrita pop my jazz cherry first." She winked at him playfully as she said that.

"I'd be up for a walk and some dessert though, after she plays a bit." The waitress interrupted them for a moment as she delivered the next round of drinks.

"I'm shocked," Leah said as she accepted her drink. "Shocked! I tells ya--to discover that you have any cherry left unpopped, young lady," Leah said with a grin. "It's a sad day indeed to learn that my idol has feet of clay."

Laughter bubbled out of Anna at that comment. "I know. I know. I do have some civilized cultural cherries, yet to be popped. For example! "I've never been outside of the continental United States." She shrugged her shoulders cutely. "I'm aware of my short comings. You should be as well. I am, however, sorry to disappoint you." She sent her a quick air kiss, before picking up her drink and taking another leisurely sip.

Sounds of laughter and some better known jazz riffs erupted and sizzled from the stage from time to time as Amrita and her new friends used that shorthand all musicians know to cut through differences in background, education, training, and preferences to get to the heart of what mattered to them -- the love of the music. For Amrita there was more than a little bittersweetness to it, coming to grips with her late husband's absence (Ed Saunders' talents on bass likely would have had a lot to live up to, if she had been anyone else) and bringing her joy of the music to the night untainted with memories of a loss that couldn't be rectified.

Then she thought of Jack, grinned happily, and suggested their opener. A few more chord progressions, which drew some approving applause from the crowd who'd grown up playing "Name That Jazz Tune" all their lives and could be irritatingly smug about it. An older gentleman stepped up to the stage briefly, causing Amrita to jump up to embrace the man warmly, glowing with pleasure. She nodded, shook her head, then nodded again as the older fellow spoke, then colored a bit when he stroked a stray lock of hair back from her face. He said something else, she laughed again, and then he went back to his table and the three musicians left on the stage nodded to one another and eased the afterdinner crowd at Savanna into their first song.

(Right click and open in new window/tab to hear Better Than Anything. It's a song with lots of verses, singers generally pick the three or four they like best and sort of go with it. This version is the best one I could find on YouTube, but rather than singing scat, Amrita will just riff on the piano cuz, well, she's really just not that cool.) (Yet.) (Shut up and play, wench -- and oh yeah, please other participants, feel free to insert stuff in wherever. I'm not trying to hog the file, just trying to participate meaningfully under the circumstances.)

Better than sailing at midnight
better than diving for pearls
better than skiing at aspen
better than feeding the squirrels
better than finding a horseshoe
betther than losing your head
better than anything thought of
better than anything said

better than singing right out loud
or being spotted in a crowd
better than anything 'cept being in love

It was quite a different Amrita that metamorphosed there on the stage, even to Anna, who'd only known her post-virus. To Leah, who'd known her in both lives, the transformation was marked. This was no shy, retiring wallflower, nor the modest, quiet, student of botany at DU she'd become -- this woman was confident and charismatic, her sweet soprano voice fluid and elegant, easily heard over the music and talk in the bar. Amrita shone from an inner light that dimmed the floor lights around edge of the stage -- happy in her music, happy in her life, and as she delivered that last line, obviously happily in love.

Leah leaned back in her chair and sipped at her Cosmo while she listened--and watched. The changes the Chimera virus had wrought in Amrita were amazing. It hadn't changed Leah outwardly, and hadn't affected her personality--at least, not that she could tell. But Amrita had changed mentally, emotionally, physically, even spiritually it seemed. She'd...well, to say that she had blossomed might sound frivolous, just a cute reference to her new powers. But it really was the only proper word for it.

They moved through the next several verses with both Ty and Ed getting a chance to shine, then back to Amrita on the piano for the closer.

Better than elephants dancing
Better than clowns on parade
Better than peanuts and popcorn
Better than pink lemonade
Better than rides on the midway
Better than seals blowing horns
Better than men shot through cannons
Better than fresh ears of corn

Ah, better than balancing on a wire
Or watching tigers jump through fire
Better than anything except being in love

Better than driving 'round the park
Or watching fireflies after the dark
Better than anything except being in love

The applause was more enthusiastic than anything they'd heard for the last group, with Amrita and crew nodding their appreciation and trading remarks not really able to be heard more than five feet away from the stage. color=purple>Leah applauded as enthusiastically as anyone. She beamed at Amrita when she glanced their way and waved and gave her a thumbs up. She recognized musical skill when she heard it even if, sad to say, jazz was never going to be a favorite genre of hers.

Lawrence was clapping, too. "They're very good," he said.

"Yes, they are," Leah agreed. (Especially Amrita,) she thought. She was looking forward to hearing what else Amrita and her fellow musicians would play.

Another Cosmopolitan appeared in front of Leah, beside the one she'd barely started. She looked up, surprised, to see the waitress standing at her side. "I didn't--" Leah said.

The waitress interrupted her. "It's from the bearded gentleman in the dark suit, there," she said, inclining her head to indicate a table occupied by three men. They all wore expensive looking dark suits, but one was tall, slender, with a narrow face, aquiline nose and a neat goatee. (Oh my god,) Leah thought, aware that Anna could 'hear' her, (It's Hans Gruber!)

Anna swung her head around to look at the table, but her gaze didn't linger long. There was enough to keep her busy right there. (Yummy that. Do you mind keeping the link up if I scram for a bit?)

Not really Hans Gruber, of course. Nor even Alan Rickman. But there was a definite resemblance, and there were few men easier on the eye in Leah's opinion. She raised the drink and nodded her thanks. He raised his own drink, a short tumbler with what looked like whiskey in it, and returned her greeting.

(Not at all,) Leah thought at Anna while she gazed at the man. Then she looked away, focusing on Anna. (Don't do anything I wouldn't do,) she added. (But if you do, I'll want to hear all about it later.) She paused for a moment. (Actually, I'll want to hear all about it either way....)

After the first set was done and just as she was finishing her second drink, Anna looked over at Lawrence with an inviting smile. "You still want to take that walk?"

Lawrence smiled and reached into his pocket to withdraw a wad of large bills. He ripped off a couple of hundreds and tossed them on the bar with a nod at the bartender who was busy down the way.

Anna twinkling blue eyes widened a bit at the tip, but she did her best to not seem too impressed.

"Let's go," he replied, gesturing for her to lead the way.

"Don't let Amrita think I wasn't enjoying the show. I'll catch up to you two later. Don't leave the city without me." Anna chuckled a bit at the thought of losing her ride back to Denver. (Don't leave the city without me.), she reiterated for good measure over her link.

With that she stood, the drinks had been strong, but her ability to hold her liquor was notorious among her friends. Leah could tell that the evening had done much to lift Anna's spirits and that she appreciated the long time friends, embracing her into their circle. ...even if she was bailing on them.

Leah sat sipping her drink and nibbling on the appetizer platter while Amrita and company played two more songs. Toward the end of the second piece the guy who'd sent her a drink stood up and walked over. He was tall and slender and dark haired and aristocratic looking. A closer look proved that the resemblance to Alan Rickman wasn't in Leah's imagination.

"Thanks for the drink," Leah said as he reached her table.

He nodded. "You're quite welcome," he said. Leah was a little surprised--foolishly so, she realized--to hear a perfectly normal American accent come out of his mouth. "I'm Greg Barrett, by the way," he added.

"Leah Wright," Leah replied.

They chatted for a couple of minutes about the music and the food. Greg was a regular here, it turned out. Leah pointed out Amrita up on stage, proud of her friend's unexpected musical talents. Leah was just about to invite Greg to sit when he glanced back over at his table. "Friends?" Leah asked.

"Clients, actually," Greg said. "I should get back to them. I would invite you to join us, but...." he shrugged ruefully.

"And I'd be tempted to take you up on it," Leah said, "but I'm holding down the fort for Amrita and Anna."

"I understand," Greg said. "Perhaps another time. Do you live in the city?"

Leah shook her head. "No, I'm afraid not. We're visiting from Denver--and heading back early tomorrow morning." It was too bad, too. "We'll probably be back, though," she said hopefully.

Greg took the hint. He put his drink down, produced a business card, wrote something on the card and offered it to Leah. "Next time you're back in San Francisco, please--call me. I'd love to buy you dinner."

Leah took the card. "I will. It was nice to meet you, Greg." After he'd returned to his table, Leah looked at the card. Hassebrock Hurley Barrett & Irving, Attorneys at Law. He'd written in another phone number. Leah glanced toward him, smiled, and put the card in her purse.

OOC: Write. Write! The Power of Elvis compels you!