Jessica sat on the couch, staring at the old grandfather clock in the corner of the living room. It was nearly one o’clock in the morning. Not that she minded. Blaze had always been a night person, and Jessica had spent many nights waiting up for him. She still had the fear that one day he wouldn’t come home. Then again, any woman in a relationship with a cop probably did the same thing.

But as the key turned in the lock, Jessica realized that she could push the fear aside for another night. Blaze walked through the door, carrying a huge shopping bag.

“What’s all that?” Jessica asked.

“Present for the lady,” Blaze replied, placing it on the table. “Man, I need a shower!” he declared, catching a whiff of himself. “Seeya in twenty, babe.” With that, he walked up the stairs.

Peering into the bag, Jessica pulled out some of its contents. There was a case of mineral water, a bag of fruit, and a bunch of roses. Jessica sniffed the roses, remembering how Blaze used to tease her about being a health nut. After he realized that was what kept her figure so slim, he stopped.

Jessica made her way upstairs with the roses, already hearing the running water. “Mona called!” she yelled as she went past the bathroom.

“Got it!” Blaze yelled back.

Jessica laughed a bit, realizing how they must’ve sounded to the neighbors. She walked into the bedroom, looking for vase to put the flowers in. As she neared the bed, the door closed. Thinking it was the wind, she continued her search.

The black-gloved hand clapped over her mouth, rendering her silent. “I would advise you not to scream,” whispered the deep voice in her ear.

Jessica’s eyes widened in fright.

“I won’t harm you, if you tell me what I want to know.”

She nodded slowly.

“Your boyfriend has a partner. He is called Goth, correct?”

She nodded again.

“Good. Tell your husband that Damien paid you a visit, yes?”

Jessica quickly nodded.

“Good girl,” Damien said with a smile. “I will go now,” he told her, letting her go.

Jessica backed away from him, the fear still in her eyes. As he saw her face for the first time, Damien smiled. “Well, in a moment,” he said walking towards her.

She gasped and moved away, until he’d backed her against the wall. “What do you want from me?” she asked weakly. She could still hear the shower running.

“Only your kiss,” Damien whispered.

She blinked, not sure that she’d heard him right. Before she could ask, he pulled her to him and gently kissed her.

Jessica’s initial reaction was to push him away, but she found his lips relaxing and surprisingly sweet. Before long, she was kissing him back, almost hungrily, unable to control herself.

However, Damien suddenly broke the kiss. “Not so innocent now, are you?” he asked, his red eyes shining.

Jessica blushed slightly and turned away. That’s when they both heard the shower cut off.

“I’ll be back,” Damien said, walking quickly to the open window. He paused on the sill a moment, just enough time to blow her a kiss. Then he disappeared into the night.

A few seconds later, Blaze walked into the room. Jessica ran to him and threw her arms around him. “There was a man!” she gasped.

“Whoa, slow down!” Blaze said. “Where?”

“Here!” she almost whispered, glancing around nervously. “His name was Damien! He wanted me to tell you he came!” Jessica was already near tears.

Blaze hugged her tightly, kissing her neck.

“I was so frightened!” she said, sobbing on his shoulder. But even as he rocked her gently in his arms, Jessica could only anticipate the day when Damien would return.

He stared up at the club’s sign, which he knew would be flashing neon red and green in a few minutes. But that didn’t really matter to Larry anymore. He just wanted to get inside. As he lifted himself from the ground, he winced in pain and touched his shoulder. The wound had been heavily taped, but he supposed anyone shot twenty times with Teflon-coated bullets was lucky to be alive. If he hadn’t been in armored form at the time, they were certain to find his corpse out on the street somewhere.

Larry sighed and slumped against the wall, watching the beginnings of Club Olympus’s night crowd file into the building. Earl, head of Olympus security, stood at the entrance, a walkie-talkie tucked into his pocket. Larry happened to luck up, and by chance, spotted his ticket inside. He ran to the man in the overcoat, reaching him just as he passed Earl.

“Hold on, Larry,” Earl said, clapping a hand on his arm.

The man in the overcoat glanced back at them.

“You owe me, man!” Larry shouted at him.

The man sighed and said, “Let him in, Earl. He’s with me.”

Earl blinked. “You sure, Goth?”

Goth nodded. “I do owe him one.”

Earl let go, and Larry ran after Goth. “Hey, you owe me twenty! One for each time Damien shot me!”

“Just morph and follow me. Goddess sees you like this and its curtains for both of us.”

Larry nodded and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he had to look down to see Goth’s face, something no one else ever had to do. It was just an aspect of Larry’s power. Not only was his entire body now made of stone, but he doubled in height and tripled in weight, almost. He had to duck his head as he followed Goth into the club.

The pair made their way to the bar, where Goth ordered his usual Long Island Iced Tea. Larry, being in stone form, didn’t get anything. Everything ended up tasting like dirt to him, anyway. He stood beside Goth’s barstool, not needing a chair (he’d break it, and your legs don’t get tired when they’re made of stone).

Goddess approached them a few minutes later. “What is he doing here?!” she hissed, glaring at Goth.

“Relax, G,” the man replied. “I owed him one.”

“Make sure it’s only one,” she added, knowing that Larry was ogling her at that very moment.

Suddenly, Larry spoke. “Hey, would you mind--”

“Yes, I would,” Goddess snapped.

“Oooh, feisty!” Larry teased.

Goddess glared at Goth again.

He shrugged. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll drink twice as much tea as I usually do.”

She only sighed and walked away.

“Is she always like that?” Larry asked.

“Only when you’re around,” Goth replied. He ordered a drink from the bartender.

“So how’s the bodyguard gig going?” Larry wanted to know.

Goth closed his eyes. “Fine. She’s not so bad. I probably should get going though. Somebody might try to kill her.”

Larry frowned. “You always have to get going early when I come in with you!” he whined.

“What kind of bodyguard would I be if my client got killed the first day?” Goth asked, finishing his tea.

Larry only mumbled and followed him out of the club.