Jenny’s mind came back to her just as I was ready to walk out the door. I had to change, of course, so it’s to black jeans and a white t-shirt for me. Mondays are usually laundry days so I don’t exactly have a lot of choices available. It didn’t take much to have her agree to watch the fort for me. She kept looking at me and blushing, but it didn’t help that every time I looked at her I was imagining her in the throes of a sleepy round of sexfun.

Some women in Midas actually are straight, and the looks she gave me looked quite like the times a quite evil but quite hetero woman would fall under one of my trances. It was very hard to resist the urge to offer Jenny a round two. Maybe when I get back she’ll ask on her own.

As for now, I’m finally driving Sylvia away from the badged supers building to the precinct where they’ll be keeping Dust. I have a feeling the forensic people working on Jesse’s latest headquarters will have their work cut out for them. Hopefully that potent glowing green drug of hers isn’t rigged up as a trap just waiting for someone to set it off. It would be yummy to watch, but not so yummy to experience.

For a normal person, anyway – I know I’d probably love it.

Feeling my hair fluttering in the wind as I break more traffic laws than Midas’s books have room for is such a refreshing thrill. Susan is getting such a great Christmas present this year. I think we’ll invite her into town and have a big get together at my place. Or we can go out to hers, and . . .

Damn. That’s still so many months away. Since when did I start responsibly planning out my life? I’ll blame Aurora for that one. I’m sure when I tell her she’ll just giggle.

When I pull up in front of the station a lead brick sinks where my stomach should be. Hopefully they contained Dust properly. They arrested her at least once before so they should know what they’re doing, but the more prepared I am the easier this’ll go. Maybe I should have brought my belt along, or at least my helmet. In a pinch it would make for a good bludgeoning instrument.

After all, that sprinkle shedding little bitch owes me an explanation. Hopefully I won’t need to explain too much to the officers. Taking her in behind their backs might not sit right with them. Not everyone thinks super issues should stay with supers. I just think it’s safer.

“Hey Silver Girl, er . . . Miss LaSilvas. How can I help you?” The officer is another I recognize, Officer McAlister, cute freckles and red hair more of the emerald isle than Nesatealia.

Luckily, I know from experience she’s not going to tell me to butt out. Not even being in uniform is pushing it, but so is dressing up as Patina until I can make another Silver Girl suit. Maybe I could get Jessica to make me a new one or . . . no. I think I’ll go professional this time, or just stay plain clothed for awhile. Detectives get to do it, why shouldn’t exceptional supers from time to time?

Taking the most confident, serious look I can is getting a lot easier. “I’d like to see Dust. I was intending on protecting her so the Dust Ring would be acquired by Jesse Colloten, and she abused my trust. Not about to go ‘bad cop’ on her, but I’d like to have a word, if that’s okay.”

“Of course, right this way.” I really shouldn’t be thinking this, but as Officer McAlister leads me away, I’m really wondering how long it took Nightshade to learn the dance.

I might just need a forty-eight step program.

Her cell is private, quite well isolated, and looks almost airtight. Air seems to be blowing into her cell, but there doesn’t seem to be a way out. Dust looks absolutely miserable, dressed in a standard issue orange jumpsuit. It should make me happy, or at least make me feel safe, but it doesn’t. It just makes a part of me feel sad and miss being able to feel like she and I shared something besides The Lady and two mind-twisting redheads.

“Hey there. How’s prison life?” Technically, she’s in a holding cell. It’s more like a jail, not a prison, but the phrase “how’s holding cell life?” just doesn’t feel appropriate. I almost wish I’d been able to sound mad instead of almost sad.

It’s the kind of cell where if you want to talk you have to pick up the phone, but only from the outside. She can hear me and be heard just fine . . . but she doesn’t even look towards me. She just sits in the middle of her cell. Her knees are pulled close to her chest with her arms wrapped around her legs. She looks so small and almost weak like this. Weak is never a word I would have used to describe Dust. Even when Yanta had her pinked she was strong, just not so smart.

Sighing, I sit down on the little chair in front of the window. I’m still angry with her. I’m so angry with her. Seeing someone looking like their spirit is crushed is not justice. It’s just sad. “Hope the hangover wasn’t too bad. Sorry about the sparks. Mind telling me why you had to go after my lover when I was out trying to protect your ass?”

If only it were surprising that in response she just turns further away. Of course she doesn’t want to talk. She never does. She could have just fucked you senseless and cuddle time is over. Too bad for her this isn’t her turf, so she doesn’t get to make that choice.

“I’ve got time to wait for you to talk. In case you haven’t really noticed yet, you don’t have anywhere to go either. And this? This right here? Would never have happened if you could just learn to keep your hands to yourself.” The anger in my voice is starting to rise, but it just takes the sad tone away and makes it more even. It shouldn’t be so upsetting that even now she won’t respond. What do I have to do to get someone from that time in my life to just talk to me?

A policeman I haven’t seen before walks just within my peripheral vision. It doesn’t even occur to me it might be important until, from the window, I see Dust’s cell door opening and the cop talking to her rings through the phone. “All right. You’re free to go.”

Dust doesn’t seem shocked at all as she stands and moves toward the door, but I sure the hell am.

“What?!” My hands turn into tight fists. Not long ago, she was one of the most persistent threats to Midas City. She was dusting women indiscriminately, and the only reason I protected her is because I thought Jesse would be able to do a better job. She has more impulse control than Dust seems to, so I’m sure that would have turned out true.

I turn and stare at McAlister, but she looks confused as I must. Under the confusion lurks a little hint of disappointment. It’s the kind of look that seems like she’s used to wearing it.

It’s not a feeling I like seeing. It would be one thing if they just needed proof of the Dust Ring, which they have in droves, but Olivia’s drunkenly muttered testimony should count for something! My hands shake and clench more tightly. I don’t want her hurt, but I want her to stop hurting people for at least a day, a week, a year!

Dust’s route takes her right past me. I’m sure it didn’t have to but she chose to make it happen. The cops talk in hushed tones, but all of my focus is on Dust. “You can’t fight city hall, but you can mind fuck it.”

McAlister sighs, the disappointed undertone crushing the confusion rather swiftly. “Sorry . . . Orders. All charges have been dropped.”

Quickly as I can I grasp her arm, her forearm, that sweet spot right underneath her shoulder where it is all too easy to get a nice firm grip. “You little damned . . . Fine . . . Fine.” I narrow my eyes and let go of her arm with a little bit of a shove. “But city hall and I don’t always see eye to eye. I think in the absolute least you owe me an explanation.”

“She was hot. You’re hot. I probably would have screwed you both in front of your child, and it would have been even hotter for it.” Her voice doesn’t sound especially proud of herself, but I wish her tone also sounded dishonest. Honesty like this just makes me want to spark her senseless and let the consequences be damned if I get cuffed for assaulting her in a police station. “I wanted her. I took her. I’m sorry. But? I would do it again.”

“How can you be happy, living like this?! I mean, yeah, sex is great. Frying minds can be a very enthralling hobby. Trust me, I know. Not everything I’ve done has been as good as I wish it was. We both did things at Chronos we’re not proud of, even if for you I’m sure that was mostly just the kneeling, but . . . aren’t there times you just feel sick of yourself, sick of it, sick of it all?” Even I don’t believe she feels any of that in the least, but I want to believe there’s more than just lust to a woman I could feel so much for. “Can you really not care about anyone but yourself that much . . .?”

Dust’s darkly made up lips twist into a crooked and very predatory grin. “I pretty much have a blast, Sarah. Hey, maybe we can catch a rave sometime, or do something at your place. Consensual.” Her grin grows just a little bit and she raises a thin eyebrow. “I’ll give you a number you can reach me at. Just remember the story about the scorpion.”

Seeing her feeling better doesn’t make me feel any better, but a part of me still hopes a part of her actually feels some remorse. There’s a little good in everyone, isn’t there? Dust pretended to care quite well with Yanuka’s help, I guess . . .

It doesn’t feel very good to be slapped in the face by a woman you used to give face even if you don’t really remember it too clearly. “I could never do what you do. Even when I was trying? I was never any good at it. If my alternate future self ever shows up again, I’ll have to hook the two of you up . . .And as for the number, well . . .” I smirk, feeling just the slightest need to give her a little reminder, holding up my hand to make my fingertips shine. “Maybe. If the scorpion can learn I’m prone to emotional outbursts, and can light her up like a Christmas tree.”

Dust holds up her pale hand, fingernails glittering black in the light, and snaps her fingers. The sound dives into me, dives into the dust between my legs, making that weight flare up again, but . . . Just barely, I can feel the light in my head, right between my eyes, pulsing, struggling, trying to grasp through at me, trying to tell me, maybe, that I don’t have to kneel . . . “Likewise, silver. Catch you later.”

The light gets a little brighter and I can feel sweat starting to shine over my body again as I strain to direct it towards the weight. It lessens, though it doesn’t relent, even as I feel more and more of my body clenching, straining, and then, with a feeling much like a release, but a small release, it stops pulling and . . .

“Not if I catch you first.” It felt good to be pulled down, but it feels better to know I don’t have to stay down. Slowly, I snap my own fingers, and then aim a fingertip towards where she disappeared through the exit door, and fire off just a single spark. Just a small enough one to make sure it’ll make it through the door, and she’ll feel it.

I don’t hear any sound if she makes one, but that by itself doesn’t really mean anything. After the spark all of the strain goes away and my body stops sweating. Maybe I really can resist being overcome by the many forces fighting for control of my mind. It would certainly be a useful talent.

When I used it the last time I didn’t feel absolutely exhausted and worn out afterward, but that time it did sort of come to me. This time it just let its presence be remembered so I could try reaching for it. When I think about it hard enough, I did feel pretty drained when I broke free of Yanta’s rod. With all of the adrenalin flowing through my body I might not have even noticed it when I broke free of my Tanda programming.

So, just to be on the safe side, for now I’ll assume using this new power of mine has a very good chance of rendering me exhausted. Passing out after resisting an attempt on my mind is not a good thing. Hopefully once I get the hang of it . . .

It wouldn’t be a good idea to try using it unless absolutely necessary. I’m not the only one good at tying knots. I might ask for Valerie to help me test it. Might want Olivia around in case she forgets I’m not her Sarah. If she grasped control just long enough to make me call her my Raine Drop then I really don’t think it would be a test anymore. Not that I can blame her.

Well, standing around here contemplating my abilities is just wasting moonlight, even if it’s not that dark outside. I still have at least another trip to make and . . . oh. I forgot what week it was. I might have three.

Forcing myself to smile I step a little closer to McAlister. “No hard feelings . . . I know it’s not your call. Know which hospital a certain mesmerizing entrepreneur is being treated? I’ve got just a little unfinished business with her, too. Nothing violent, nothing angry, just . . . she sort of interrupted our parting conversation by trying to jump out a window. I don’t like her getting to have the last word be the crashing sound of breaking glass.”

“Yeah, sure . . . They took her to the Midas Touch. She wasn’t doing so good, and if she dies it won’t do anyone any good. She’s in room 221. Need directions?” If her eyes were just a shade darker they’d be emerald and I would be filled with far too many bad thoughts talking with her. Nightshade was a bad influence.

“Nah, I know where it is. I’ve been there a couple of times, as a couple of different people . . . Keep up the good work officer! Even when – especially when – people don’t seem to appreciate it.” Wiggling my fingers I head back out and straddle Sylvia.

There’s definitely one good thing about her being sent to the Midas Touch: although I don’t think Gale will make her right as rain overnight, she’ll keep her alive. I’d hate my little stunt to be for nothing.

So much is.

The whole ride I just try to focus on the fact that Dust might be free, but I’ll be keeping an extra eye out for her. If city hall won’t deal with her then I will in my own way. Someone has to.

A couple of years ago The Midas Touch wasn’t really a place you would take someone if you really needed to make sure they stayed alive. Gale’s touch and more than a few good doctors, one with purple hair especially, were more than adept at healing, but, well, it wasn’t exactly up to date or well funded. I’ve been here since the donation The Domina made in Valerie’s name, but it just keeps growing. Being linked to the Project as one of the only things with immediately good ramifications drew quite a lot of attention.

Publicity is always a good thing for a good cause. I don’t think The Midas Touch will ever be hurting for funding again and they just may be the most up to date medical facility in Midas. Not many people know about Gale still, which is a good thing for her sake, but I still drop by when I really need to.

Getting past the media circus is a bitch, but they give me space as soon as I hold a spark up just past the tip of my finger. I only did it once, and it was actually an accident, but I have a little bit of a reputation for frying cameras of reporters that won’t give up trying to get an exclusive. I’d meant to just wing a spark past the camera man to make him go running, but he’d dodged in the wrong direction.

It does lower my chances of getting an extra gorgeous reporter begging for an interview, which I intend to give if they ever hound me when I’m not in a hurry, but the kind I would want to interview me would have to be a risk taker anyway. I’m not malicious, I just think saving lives is important.

Going in to see The Lady won’t save any lives or minds, but this isn’t my last stop.

I wave to the receptionist who she smiles back and nods. Not everyone knows about Silver Girl and The Lady, but you know what’s going on when a super shows up and a well known criminal is in your facility. Plus, I’ve met her a few times before. It never hurts to be polite.

A few yards from her door is swarming with police. I’m really glad I’m actually starting to become more popular, if only so they recognize me even when that doesn’t go both ways. “Hey, Silver Girl. Here to see Jesse? The chief thought you might, said that it would be all right, but . . . I’ll need to see some I.D..” The look on her face tells me she thinks a silver-skinned girl needing to flash I.D. is as funny to her as it is to me.

Besides, the only other silver-skinned girl I know would have the same card anyway. Maybe the expiration date on it would be a few years in the future, but maybe not. If it was her, The Lady wouldn’t be staying in the hospital.

I fish it out, glad I thought to pack it just in case, and she nods. “You’ll need to have an escort. Sorry. I know you’re one of the good ones, but it never hurts.”

Her look says I don’t want to say out loud that having your history and coming to see her is a bad idea but she avoids saying it out loud. I’m more than a little thankful. “Fine by me, I don’t plan on doing anything I wouldn’t want my mother to see.” Flashing a smile I nod to the officer she motions to and we step into the room.

It reminds me a lot of the room I stayed in, only this one looks a lot newer. She’s hooked up to a thousand different machines, well, more like five, but it doesn’t make her look in too good of shape. Her neck is bandaged up and there’s a mask over her mouth and nose. One of the shards must have gotten into her neck. There’s an IV hanging close by, and seeing her like this makes me feel about as good as seeing Dust curled up in the cell. At least with The Lady I know she’ll face justice, but if she hadn’t been an idiot she wouldn’t be hurt like this.

“You’ll only be able to stay for a few minutes. She lost a lot of blood, and she needs her rest. Keep it brief.” The doctor isn’t one I recognize, but I figure that’s a good thing. She’s probably new.

I nod and step a little closer to her, but not too close. There are a lot of people in the room just watching her. I don’t think she could move well enough right now to unplug herself from the machines keeping her steady, but you can’t be to be too sure.

“You’re welcome . . .” Just saying it, speaking to her like this when she looks so hurt, twists my stomach and my heart. I wish I could comfort her like she comforted me, begging me not to fall into those cracks. She’s too much like Dust, enough like her to be her mother if she didn’t look too young for it. Plus, she’s blonde.

She doesn’t speak, but she really can’t. She focuses her gaze on me tiredly as the machines beep away letting everyone know she’s alive. She’s never looked fragile to me before, but right now she looks so weak. The only part of her that looks like it can move is the one eye. Her other eye has bandages over it.

This shouldn’t be so heartbreaking. “You might not appreciate it, but I saved your life. It probably doesn’t feel like it right now, but . . . but you’re alive.” I have to bite my lip and just stare at her for a long time to resist saying ‘I told you so’ or ‘I won’t let someone who was so special to me die.’ Neither would make either of us feel any better. “And I wanted to say . . . well . . . get better soon. Because even if you tried to shoot me, and I know you didn’t try to miss . . . You were still important to me, once.”

Her eye slowly looks away from me and she still doesn’t respond. Not even a cold shrug, a glare, or anything. I can’t tell if she’s sad, angry, or just tired. I can barely tell she’s thinking at all, or if she even recognizes me through the drug haze but . . . it really seems like she does.

“I also just wanted to say that I never wanted to hurt you. I honestly didn’t know if I could save you from the fall, but I tried. Considering we met because you were trying to turn me into a useful slave, well . . . I think we both got something from it. You helped me heal when I thought I was broken. You believed in me. Even if you were killing people left and right, selling women and drugs . . . you made the world a little better, and even stopped yourself. I could never have done it without you. And you’re not getting out of prison this time, but maybe what I’ve done can teach you something, and well . . .” My throat feels tight, and it’s so hard to hold back a sniffle. “I hope your eye is okay.”

“I’m sorry miss, but she needs to rest.” The doctor taps me on the shoulder and I nod without turning to face her. Hopefully my words don’t make her recovery worse or send her into shock right after I leave. That wouldn’t be a good thing to have haunting me.

Smiling sadly I speak to the doctor while still looking at The Lady. “I don’t think I could say anything else anyway . . . Probably shouldn’t have come. She doesn’t seem too happy to see me . . .” Bittersweet smiles don’t smell sweet at all, but it feels nice to know this is the way things had to end. It’s not what I ever would have wished for, but it’s the only way things could have turned out right. “Take care of those cotton pink legs.”

As I walk out, at least I can be confident not even The Lady can worm her way out of this one.

The hall of cops clears for me to get through and waiting near the end is Gale. She waves as she walks up to me, smiling in her sweet wise-older-woman sort of way. That’s not to say she’s old, but just a look at that warm smile says she knows more than I could ever hope to. It also makes me glad there are things I know that she doesn’t.

Before I can even open my mouth, she sighs and leans close to push her fingertip along the cut Nightshade’s knife left on my shoulder. “First an arrow. Now what, a sword? I’m going to stop fixing up your arms eventually. Maybe I’ll just charge you for your arms. Face, legs, body . . . fine. Arms? Charge.”

Laughing, I give her a hug and smile when she returns it. I didn’t even know how tense I was until the laughter made me relax. “Thanks, Gale. I’ll tell Valerie that I ran into you. And before you ask, she still doesn’t feel comfortable coming back to work yet. She says that she just has a feeling that if she doesn’t wait she won’t be ready to leave Sylvia, but . . . I think she’s really just waiting for the other me.”

“Sounds like her. Let her know I gave her a hard time about it so she doesn’t think I’m worried about her. I’m just glad that other you left her with plenty of cash to support the two of them. We’ll be happy to have her back whenever she’s ready.” She pulls back and she’s tearing up just a little.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she’s okay. For now though . . . I have to make sure another friend is okay. She might have shot me in the shoulder, but she didn’t know she was shooting me.”