The Dark Mirror

Here we go, and I'm starting with a brief summary for people who haven't read 'Into The Inferno', 'The Flames Of Justice', and 'Bloodlines', and to save the people who have read them from sighing, shaking their heads, and going back to re-read them. It's been far, far too long since I started this story, and hopefully now, I can finish it. I'll be updating once a week, or so, or whenever the mood takes me, as before. I've been working on the FG stories now since almost day one of playing, and it's been a lot of fun putting him through absolute hell - I hope you guys have enjoyed reading about him as much as I've enjoyed writing about him.

What has come before:

Two years after the Rikti War, young Hitchinite Jason Temple-Tucker, recovering from heartache at losing the love of his life (and would be fiancé) Emily Campbell to a soldier on his way to fight in the war, entered the first Worldwide Lottery. By a fluke, he became the sole winner of the Lottery, and received a pay-out in excess of sixty billion pounds. After setting up a Foundation to help pay for living costs, medicines, and general Quality of Life for people who lost their loved ones and/or livelihood through the war, and entrusting it to a lawyer called Michael Anson, Tucker decided to go on holiday – his first one in several years. He brought his best friend, Sammy Edwards, along for the trip. Since Sammy had a fixation with Super-Heroes, Jason and Sammy went to Paragon City.

Once there, instead of finding peace and quiet, Jason and Sammy got involved in a conspiracy. It seemed as if two opposing factions were at a secret war with one another. The good side, led by a man named Jenson Infern, tried to recruit Jason into the organisation, which Jason refused. Before he could leave, however, they came under attack by the most feared soldier of the opposing faction, a man known only as The Corruptor. Corruptor killed Infern, and severely injured Jason – destroying his lower legs, eyes, and burning his whole body. Before Corruptor left, he called Jason by his nickname of ‘Jay’; a name which only Jasons’ closest friends had ever called him.

As Jason recuperated, he was inducted into the Order on his hospital bed by Mayor Samantha Hearten, and her assistant…Emily Campbell. He received new legs, which would give him the power of flight, as well as new electronic eyes, and skin grafts. He decided to take on the name ‘Fire Guardian’, to keep himself safe from reprisal. He later picked up a device which would serve him well over the years – a Power Belt. This seemingly ordinary device transmitted, when active, a highly protective forcefield, attuned specifically for Jason’s precise bodyshape, and displayed a series of different costumes.

After another encounter with Corruptor, Jason and Emily renewed their previous relationship, and considered moving in together. However, a phone call from Sammy left Jason suspecting his oldest friend of being his arch-rival. Emily went to meet with Sammy, and Jason followed secretly, from a distance. After a pitched battle, he discovered Sammy, sitting on a raised, throne-like chair, staring down at him…dead. Emily, who had been Corruptor the entire time, had killed Sammy after he had found out her dual identity. She wanted to escape with Jason, and start anew with him, but Sammy’s discovery put all that in jeopardy. She had been hired, it was discovered, by Michael Anson, who put the whole conspiracy in action. The two factions were a sham, put on to draw Jason in and kill him, so Anson could take full control of the Foundation and use it to his own ends – taking over Paragon City. Jason narrowly escaped with his life, and his death was faked so Anson would stop looking for him. He later took control of the Foundation anyway, and returned to his original home, where he had been a crime boss…Paragon City – after having Mayor Hearten killed, he ran for (and became) Mayor, not knowing that Tucker was out for revenge.

Assisted by the doctor who helped him recover from his original ordeal, Jason took over a disused Supergroup Base, and retrained himself. The doctor, Wilks, obtained a highly intelligent and powerful AI program to run the base and co-ordinate with Tucker – the program took on an avatar of Jasons’ dead friend, Sammy Edwards. Together with Wilks, the SAMI program, a reporter for the Paragon Times, and Wilks’ grand-daughter, a scrapper who went by the alias ‘Sarriss Groundwalker’, Tucker managed to re-unite with Emily, and later gunned down Mike Anson in cold blood.

Regaining his Foundation, Tucker married Emily Campbell, and then went about the process of dismantling the subverted and criminal projects that Anson had started, officially retiring from duties as Fire Guardian. However, an unknown individual took on those duties, assisted by the SAMI program. After a confrontation, Tucker followed the individual back to his old base, and discovered that the new Fire Guardian was, in fact, his son from the future, sent back to stop a scientist who was trying to start a new Rikti War – a war that had killed the future selves of Jason and Emily Tucker. Before Jason and his ‘son’, Sammy, could reach the scientist, he was killed by an unknown assassin. Upon their return to the base, where Sammy was being trained by his ‘father’, they discovered that Emily had been kidnapped…by a version of Jason Tucker from another dimension.

The two Tuckers agreed to meet with this other Jason Tucker, who called himself Temple (the first part of Jasons’ double-barrelled surname) and hear what he had to say.

Chapter One

August 19th, 2002

Jason stood in front of the bathroom mirror, and his reflection stared back at him. Although he tried to ignore the look of nervous anticipation on his face, his eyes kept drifting back to stare. He took a few deep breaths, to steady himself, and then stuck his tongue out at his own reflection.

“Okay, Tucker, you can do this.” He murmured to himself. “You’re a smart guy, you know what you want to do, and you’ve been planning this for months.” His hand slid down his side, and gently caressed the small box in his pocket. “You love her, and she loves you. No doubt, no surprises, no way this is turning sour. Tonight’s the night.” He wrapped his tie around his neck, and slowly began to tie it.

There was a knock at the door, and it swung open before Jason could turn. Glancing in the mirror, he saw the reflection of his girlfriend, Emily Campbell.
“Come on, Jay!” Emily laughed. “Would you hurry up? Moron’s going to be here any minute.”
Jason sighed. “I wish you wouldn’t keep calling Sammy that.”
“Jay…he’s a pervert with a Superhero fetish, and he’ll never amount to anything, because he’s copied test results from you since you were 12 years old.”
“So?” Tucker shrugged.
“So?” Emily blinked, disbelieving that her boyfriend could be that dense. “Jay, we don’t know how long the war’s going to last, or if we’ll win it. Shouldn’t you worry about yourself?”
“Just myself?” Jason grinned at her easily, trying to hide his nerves from her.
“Well….me, too.” She pressed herself up against him, and kissed him deeply, kicking the bathroom door closed. When she felt him respond, she pulled away quickly, and, before he could open his eyes, deftly tied his tie.
“Heey!” Jason frowned. “That was cheating.”
Emily smirked. “I have no idea how you ever got along without me.”
“I didn’t.”

There was a sound from the lower level of the house, as a voice shouted up, “Honey, I’m home. Put it back in your boxers, and tell Campbell to put her knockers away, willya? A brother’s coming up.”
Emily snorted. “A ‘brother’? He’s as black as snow.”
“Word.” Jason deadpanned. Emily turned back and shot a mock-glare at him.
“Oh, stop.”
The bathroom door flung wide open, and Sammy Edwards, Jason’s long-time best friend, stepped in.
“Waaaaaaaassssssssaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaap?”
“Oh, God…”
“WAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP?”
Emily slapped Jason in the chest, and tried not to smile. “Don’t encourage him. He only gets worse.”
“True dat, ho.”
She glared at Sammy. “I’m sorry…what did you just call me?”
“Uhm…a ‘dat’?”
“Riiiight.”

Emily checked the time, as Sammy and Jason studied each other’s clothes. “Damn, Jay-man, what’s with the smart look?”
“Oh, it’s….you know.”
“Ah, say no more. You’re under the thumb, gotcha.”
“I…I am not!”
“No, no, you’re right, you’re not….hey.” Sammy frowned. “How’d you get that mark?”
Jason turned to look in the mirror. “What mark?”
“That mark on your forehead.”
Jason stared at his forehead in the mirror.
“I don’t see any mark.”
“Dude, I’m telling you, there’s a big [censored] mark right there.”
“I don’t see it. What does it look like?”
“Emily’s [censored] thumbprint.”
Jason scowled. “Funny man.”
“You know you love it, baby. So…where’re we going, anyway? And why did you dress Jason up like your own [censored] Ken doll?”
“One, we’re going to the pub. It’s a charity night. Two…I think he looks smart.”
“He looks like a car interior from the 50’s.”

Jason frowned, and examined himself in the mirror again. Emily had ‘suggested’…well, okay, insisted, that he wear his black suit with a red shirt. Admittedly, he did like the look.
“I,” Emily was saying, “Happen to think he looks very sexy in red and black.”
Jason turned to her. “Really? I’ll have to remember that.”
“Dude, you look like that [censored] fish from our biology class in year 10. What was it called? A Blood Pirate? A Bloody Carrot?”
“It was a Blood Parrot. And what’s wrong with red on black?”
“Nothing, nothing. Hey, if you find out you get Superpowers, that should be your name.” Sammy turned to the exit, and held his hands over his head. “Blood Parrot….away!”

Jason sighed. It was going to be a long night.

They got into Jasons’ car, and Sammy leaned forwards from the backseat, pressing the ‘play’ button on the CD player.

‘Wassup, y’all
Remember me?
I’m the DJ who thinks
That he’s Slim Shady’

Emily quickly pressed the ‘Stop’ button before the rapper could get any further.
“Christ, I hate that guy.”
“Hey, woman!” Sammy’s voice took on a high pitched nasally whine. “What’chu doin’ to my tunes? I needs me some gangsta rap.”
“You need to get laid.”
Sammy smirked. “You offerin’, Campbell? Got tired of my boy Jay-Mac here, and you want a real man?”
Jason glared into his rear view mirror. “Sammy, you buckled up?”
“Pffft. [censored], I need me some movin’ room. Can’t keep me tied down, no, sir…”
“Okay.” Jason slammed his foot on the accelerator and snapped the clutch up, lurching the car forward with a wheel spin, and slamming Sammy back against his seat.
“Aaaaaahhhh!” Sammy yelled, and affected a terrible Jamaican accent. “Ya Bumbaclad, ya made my hair get messed oop.”
“You better not have left any grease in my car, Edwards.”

***

As they entered their long-time favourite haunt, The Jolly Roger (which caused Sammy no end of amusement. Other people would suggest going to the pub and having a drink – he, on the other hand, would say ‘Let’s get Rogered!’), they saw that the charity event was in full swing.
“Yo, Poofter!” Sammy grinned at Jason. “I’m gonna set me up with some BMWs. Want one?”
Jason wrinkled his nose. A ‘BMW’, or Baileys, Malibu, and Whiskey, was originally designed, so the story went, as an industrial strength paint thinner. It could put anyone on their back by even smelling it, and usually, Jason steered as far away from them as possible.
Tonight, however…
“Yeah, sure, hook me up.”
“Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaahhh!” Sammy crowed. “The Blood Parrot and his trusty partner, The Sex Machine, are going to splash out tonight!” He continued to talk to anyone and everyone on his way to the bar. “We’re gonna get us some drinks, we’re gonna smack us down some Rikti scum, and we’re gonna be on the P.U.Double L, pull. Boyeee!”
Jason turned his head away from his friend, once he saw Sammy had started to dry hump a supporting column.
“Why…exactly, do you put up with him?” Emily glanced sideways at her boyfriend.
“He’s….Sammy. He’s always been there for me.”
“Looks more like he’s there for that barmaid, right now.” Emily smirked, and Jason turned to see Sammy trying to chat up a member of the barstaff.
“It won’t work.”
“Oh?” Emily was genuinely curious.
“They had a date about seven months ago. Sammy got drunk, groped her, and threw up.”
“On his own shoes?” Emily grinned, remembering her first meeting with Jason.
“No. On her shoes.”
“Oh.”
“And dress.”
“Ouch.”
“And in her car.”
“Okay, Jay, I get it.”
“And her dog, when he tried to kiss her goodnight.”
Emily frowned. “Your best friend is truly a prince amongst men.”
“That’s why I keep him around. He makes me look perfect.”
Emily kisses Jason’s chin. “You make you look perfect. Now, I need to mingle.”
Jason nodded, and watched Emily head to some of her friends. Before he could find some people to talk to, however, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning, he saw the short stocky owner of the Jolly Roger, a man with whom he’d shared many drinks in the past, and yet knew only as ‘Flasherman’.
“JT!” Flash grinned.
“Hey, Flasher. Great turn out.”
Flash nodded, and looked around the packed pub. “Yeah, but it’s all for a good cause.” He paused. “Speaking of good causes, is tonight still the night?”
Jason blushed slightly. “Yeah…if she’ll have me.”
The other man laughed, and slapped Jason on the back. “If she doesn’t, she’s mental.” He gestured over to the slightly raised platform in the pub, which the pub-goers had nicknamed ‘The Stage’. “At least you’re not alone in being nervous, look.”
Jason looked over to where some soldiers were sitting. The charity night was pretty much for them, and they were drinking for free – which all of them seemed to enjoy except one. A sandy-haired guy, about the same age as Jason himself, was looking around nervously.
‘I know just how he feels.’ Jason mused to himself.

Sammy arrived with the drinks, and Flasherman made himself scarce, saying he had other people to attend to. Sammy handed Jason one of the BMWs, which he downed in one gulp.

Normally, Jason would take his time in drinking something as vile and as alcoholic as he found Sammy’s favourite drink to be, but he was shaking too much. The talk with Flash hadn’t calmed his nerves any, and he was worried that Emily would reject his proposal. He barely felt the slight shoulder barge of some guy, slightly older than him, and the gruff “S’cuse me, mate” in apology. Jason shivered, something he attributed that to his nerves, as well as the alcohol.
Sensing Jasons’ nervousness, Sammy took him by the shoulder, and dragged him outside. Jason reeled as the cool air, so different from the overheated pub, struck his body.
“Dude, what’s wrong?”
“What? Nothing.”
Sammy laughed. “You’re having second thoughts, aren’t you?”
Jason smiled faintly. “Is it that obvious?”
“Only to me, because I know you so well. And, of course, most of the pub.”
They stood outside in silence for several minutes – a rare feat for Sammy, but he knew what his best friend needed.

After a while, though, Sammy nodded towards the door. “You ready to do this thing?”
“What, now?” Jason blanched.
“Dude, might as well get it done and dusted. That way, if she says no, you’ll be able to drink yourself to oblivion.”
Jason stared at his friend. “You’re a good mate.”
“[censored], I’m the best.”
Jay laughed, and nodded. “Yeah, you are.” He sighed. “Well, let’s get this show on the road.” He walked towards the door, head held high, when his former tutor burst out of the doors.
“Mr Tucker!”
“Rasmussen? How’re the new students treating you?”
“Jason…” Rasmussen ignored him. “You can’t go back in there.”
“Why on earth not?”
Stepping past his former tutor, he strode into the Jolly Roger, to nearly absolute silence. The expressions on the faces of the regular patrons were ones of disgust, horror, or sympathy…and, oddly, the sympathetic ones were directed at him.
‘Strange,’, Jason thought to himself. ‘There was a lot more joking and shouting when I walked outside, I’m sure of it.’ In fact, a part of Jason’s brain noted clinically, the only noise was coming from the soldiers, who were cheering wildly. He turned to face them, and whatever heat was inside the pub seemed to freeze, chilling Jason to his core.
Emily…the woman he was going to propose to…was kissing that quiet soldier.

Jason felt his knees buckle, and Sammy, luckily, caught him and helped him outside. “C’mon, mate.” Sammy muttered. “We’ll walk.”

The short car drive became a 15 minute walk. To Jason, though, it felt like 15 seconds, and 15 hours, all at once. He didn’t want to go home. He wanted to be nowhere else.

***

I made Jason a cup of tea, and decided to upstairs to my bedroom. He just…collapsed on the sofa after I tried to set him down. I put the cup of tea into his hand, otherwise he might not notice it was there. I wanted to say something, but I know it’d just come out wrong.
Some people accuse me of thinking too little before I talk. I take that as a compliment, really. I mean, yeah, I put up a good show, and all – running my mouth, flirting with everyone and everything that moves. That’s what I do, after all.
I often think about going to Paragon City, to try and get myself some training as a Superhero, but I know what would happen. I’d be relegated to the comedy sidekick, like I am with Jason. That comment I made earlier, about how he should call himself ‘Blood Parrot’…yeah, okay, I was joking, and all, but sometimes I look at Jason, and I can see the guy he wants to be. The Superhero that’s inside him, waiting for a chance to get out, despite the fact he doesn’t have any powers. I’m his sidekick – the funny guy (alright, the funny and devastatingly handsome guy) who’s always by his side. That’s how it’s always been, since we were little kids. Partners in crime, through thick and thin, and seeing him like this…so unlike the Jason I know he is, just makes me want to go back to the Roger right now, and kill those soldiers. Yeah, they’re bigger, stronger, better trained than I am, and there are more of them.

So what? I’m Sammy [censored] Edwards.

Part of me wants to go downstairs and see how Jason is. I mean, really talk to him, get him to come out of his shell. Hell, I’ll even let him smack me around a few times, if it helps him.

I debate on the pros and cons for a bit, and I decide to go downstairs, and insult Emily to Jasons’ face. Yeah, he’ll hate it, but he needs to wise up. I never knew she had it in her, but…maaaan, my boy got played. Nobody deserves that to happen to them, least of all Jason Tucker. He’s a stand-up guy, through and through; if you ask him to do something, he’ll do everything in his power to make it happen. When my parents died, Jay was the one who demanded his parents take me in. He was the one who helped me when I was struggling with my coursework, and let me copy from him. Jay was the one who helped me get onto the college course we had recently completed, and made sure he found a place for us both to stay – and he never even asked me to pay my share of the rent. What had I done in return? The only nice thing I’d ever done for him was introduce him to Emily after we left Byregood, and look how that was turning out.

My hand was on the doorhandle when I heard another door open, and slam closed. Emily had come home. Just me and Jay? Don’t sweat it, I can handle a few pops to the face if Jay turns nasty. But there’s no way I’m facing down Emily. She might be tiny, but she’s a lot stronger, and faster, than she looks.

Damn black belts.

So…here I’ll sit, and listen to the fight that’s sure to [censored] off the neighbours.

***

I was barely aware of Emily screaming at me.
Well, that’s not true. It was the only thing I was aware of. The exact words, however, blended seamlessly into one droning noise. Usually I’d argue back, but I was too tired, and too upset by what she’d done.
…Ah. Now she was insulting my parents. Well, that’s certainly original.
I think I was in shock. Nothing she said, or did, fazed me. When she picked up the photo of us graduating college and threw it to the floor, stamping on it, I didn’t bat an eyelid. When she said that I had never satisfied her, I barely reacted.
When I had realised that she’d finished speaking, and was glaring at me, waiting for a retort, I let her wait. Just…looking up at her, never moving, never saying a word.
“You *******.”
I mentally shrugged it off, and stood up, putting my untouched mug of tea on the floor. Emily took a step back and got into some defensive posture, but I didn’t care.
I wasn’t going to hit a woman. Even if the woman had just broken my heart.
I reached into my pocket, and pulled out the velvet box which held the engagement ring I had bought for her, and threw it into her hands.

“Good-bye.”

The first words I had spoken, at all, since Rasmussen had warned me not to go back inside the pub. Without looking back, I walked up the stairs, and into our…my…bedroom.

I was rather proud of myself. It wasn’t until I heard the front door close, and faint footsteps heading away from the house we had shared, that I let myself cry.

I like Can't wait to read the rest.

I suggest putting more descriptions in your story : places, characters especially.
At the Jolly Roger, is the place full of people, what are sounds, voices around ? Why this place became their favorite haunt and not another one ?

Add flavor to your characters conversations by creating a setting around them, describe their posture and so on.

[ QUOTE ]
I suggest putting more descriptions in your story : places, characters especially.
At the Jolly Roger, is the place full of people, what are sounds, voices around ? Why this place became their favorite haunt and not another one ?

Add flavor to your characters conversations by creating a setting around them, describe their posture and so on.

[/ QUOTE ]

I'll try to bear that in mind, thank you. However, this is actually an alternative view on a chapter I wrote in a previous story. It'll be re-visited from another point of view in a later chapter as well, so hopefully the characterisation will be more to your liking.

Chapter Two

X

The man fell. He wasn’t aware of such mundane things like “distance”, or “time”. He only knew that he was falling.
Where did he come from?
When did he come from?
Who was he?

All questions which the man knew that he should know the answers to. Yet, questions which he would not be able to answer, were there anyone to ask him. However, there weren’t. Or, if there were, he was not aware of them. He only knew that he was falling.

He knew, in some dim, almost forgotten part of his mind, that he didn’t always fall. Some dark recess of his mind whispered to him of things such as hope, happiness, family…love. This small portion of his memory tried to speak out to him properly, to comfort him in his dark time, as it had done in the past. However, it was drowned out by the silence of the void. The emptiness that surrounded the man was so deafeningly still and silent that nothing else could be heard. If the man tried to scream, he would not have heard it. Maybe he was screaming now, but wasn’t aware that his mouth was open. He wasn’t even aware that he had a mouth. He knew nothing about himself, and barely knew that he existed.

He only knew that he was falling.

Seconds stretched into hours, and hours stretched into weeks. Weeks became decades, became millenia, became an eternity. An eternity where one man was alone, in a place where there was no light, no sound, no reason, no identity. Only the sensation of a dive from the top diving board, of a roller coaster in that teetering moment where gravity took you, and gave you a shove back down to earth.

The man, if he could even be called a man even more, knew of nothing else. He had no concept of “heaven” or “hell”, and couldn’t remember if he ever had. However, some part of him knew, with an absolute certainty, that this was Hell.

And he was trapped there, perhaps forever. Always falling.

Ooowoo, I like this one, nice imagery of this falling man. *wink* Staying on this channel.

Thanks, Pistol.

It feels wonderful to be writing again, and especially on this particular story, which has been in the works (as opposed to The Works) for months. However, with...certain things I had committed to, I didn't have the time to sit down and finish this story. Now, perhaps, I can. I know it's certainly nice to see that people have been waiting a while to read this - not even a third of the way through the story, yet, and over 100 logged viewers? I know I'm not all of them. Most, yes, but not all.

Since chapter two is so short, I'm going to post up the next chapter now, but you'll have longer to wait for the next one. At -least- until after DXP. Enjoy.

Chapter Three

G

“Hey, JT!” the uniform shouted at me. “Whaddya want for lunch?”
“Depends, where’re we ordering from?”
The Blue Suit shrugged at me. “Bianco’s, I think. I’m taking a rain check, though. Too greasy.”
I laughed. “You just don’t have the stomach for fine, rich Italian food. I’ll have the Farro al Nero di Seppia.”
The desk sergeant stared at me, and I had to bite back a sigh.
“Farro al Nero di Seppia?” I could see him shrug. “Farro with squid in its’ own ink?”
“Ohhh!” the sergeant nodded, then paused. “What? That’s disgusting!”
“No,” I retorted, “It’s their speciality, and it’s wonderful. It’s just like being in the Locanda dell'Arte in Cittá Sant'Angelo d’Abruzzo.”
The desk sergeant chuckled. “Well, I’m from Steel Canyon, Detective. I’m not some high-flying Jet Setter type like you.”
I shrugged it off, and went back to my work. The occasional jibe I received from my co-workers on the Force were usually good natured enough that I could shrug them off. I knew they appreciated my work, and the joking stopped as soon as I got onto a crime scene. They knew I meant business, and that my ratio for solving serious incidents were somewhere in the regions of 457 to 13. However, I played as hard as I worked, and they appreciated that even more.
However, something I didn’t appreciate was all the paper-work that was encumbent on being a police officer. Everyone had to do it, true, but the more crimes you solve, the more paperwork you have to present. I tried to keep it all on time and in order, but, no matter how hard you try, even in a theoretically “paperless” office, those little sheets always add up. Right now, for example, I was in the middle of a J3563-B/A form, otherwise known to myself and my co-workers as a “Firearm Discharge” form. I had been threatened at knife-point by a Hellion, who was off his face on some sort of drug (“On the date in question”, I had written, “The suspect, whose name I later learned to be Marcus Gratenie of such-and-such address, produced a large sharp instrument with a serrated blade and a rubber grip.”) I did what came naturally to me, and had my gun pointed in the guys face in just under a second (my fast-draw is well practiced). The guy turned and ran (or “did his best to elude detainment”) when I took careful aim and…

I became aware of my partner reading over my shoulder.
“JT, you can’t write ‘I blew a chunk of the moron’s calf off’.”
“Why not? It’s not like anyone reads these things.” I shrugged. “I might as well put ‘I aimed for the perps head, but I missed, and ended up taking out his right testicle.’”
My partner laughed, and came around to sit opposite me on my visitor‘s chair.
“Cute. You ordered from Bianco’s already?”
“Yeah, got the special again.”
She sighed. “How much longer are you going to eat that stuff? The ink stains your teeth, you know.”
I pulled out some Icey-Whitey smoker’s gum, and waved it at her. “I’m always prepared. Besides, I’m in good hands. The owner makes the meal herself.”
“That’s because nobody’s crazy enough to cut up a squid and leave the ink sacs intact, instead of doing the smart thing and cut them out. Melissa‘s nuts.”
“Be that as it may…” I shrugged. “What’s shaking, anyway?”
“Oh, nothing interesting. Robbery at a pawn shop, four muggings, some naked guy showed up wandering through Faultline, and a few speeding tickets.”
I heard something in her voice, and turned to look at her.
“Okay, Wilks, spill. What’s so interesting about the naked guy?”
Cara Wilks shrugged at me. “Naked guy!”
I had to grin. Cara wasn’t…well, the best looking girl in the world, but she had more humour and grace than anyone else I could think of. I know that it’s a stereotype to say that ‘ugly women have a nice personality’, but in Cara’s case, it was true. Although she wasn’t ‘ugly’, per se, but still…
“JT!” I felt a hand smack me on the side of the head. “Wake up, you’re drifting off. Did you hear a word I said?”
“Naked…guy?”
Cara frowned at me. “Never mind.”
The phone rang before I could follow up on the discussion, and Cara picked it up.
“Wilks…” She glanced at me. “Yeah, he’s right here.”
I picked up a pencil, and twirled it in my fingers, trying to ignore the furtive looks Wilks was giving me.
“You’re sure?” She frowned. “How is that…and he’s still there?” She sighed, and shook her head. “We’ll be right over. Thanks, grandpa.”
I looked up. “Your grandfather?”
“Yeah, he…”
“How is the mad professor?”
“JT…”
“Still cutting up bodies for his gruesome experiments?” Admittedly, my Peter Lorre impression was bad, but still…
“JASON!”
I stared. “Yes?”
“He was assigned to identify the naked man in Faultline.”
“Right?”
“There’s something odd about the identification. They did a DNA test, since the Unsub is unconscious, and…”
I put the pencil down, and frowned. “C’mon, Wilks, stop stringing me along. Who is it? Lord Lucan? Howard Hughes? No, wait, don’t tell me. It’s Marcus Cole!”
Wilks shook her head. “No…Jason, it’s you.”

*

The car alighted outside the hospital, and I jumped out, glaring at Cara from the passenger side. Wilks may be my partner, but she was the worst driver I’ve ever seen - and I never even bothered to pick up a US drivers licence, despite all the time I’ve been living in this country. Unapologetic, Cara shrugged off her seatbelt, and exited the door, turning a full circle to close it. Practiced, measured, and graceful - of course, inside, she was probably only slightly less un-nerved than I was.
We entered the hospital, and made a beeline for the lifts. There was a Uniform on the floor when we exited, and I flashed my badge.
“Tucker, Homicide.”
The uniformed policeman stared at me for a second. “Sorry, Detective. It’s just, I saw the guy they brought in, and geez…”
I stared back, not saying a word, until the guy, who was probably a rookie, quietened down and broke eye contact with me.
“I’ll take you to him.”
“Thanks.”

Wilks and myself followed the rookie to a small room, and knocked on the door.
“Detective Tucker’s here to see you, Doc.”
“Ah, good.” A voice came from the other side of the door. “Send him in, will you?”
I frowned, and opened the door, stepping into…well…insanity.
Doctor Wilks sat on a stool, overlooking the Unsub. Although, he wasn’t much of an Unidentified Subject anymore. Unconscious in the bed was…me.

*

Detective Jason Tucker stared at his doppelganger in shock for what seemed, to him, to be several minutes, before he was led over to a chair by his partner, and sat down on it heavily.
“Hey, JT.” Wilks whispered to him. “You okay?”
He stared blankly up at her. “That’s….that’s me.”
“I know.” She nodded.
Doctor Wilks approached them, and cleared his throat. “If I may intrude for a second?”
Tucker nodded at him gently. “Sure, Doc. Tell me it isn’t me?”
The elder man laughed quietly. “Well, as you know, Mr Tucker, I pulled the DNA records, and ran them through the database of Paragon citizens. On a genetic level, the man is you.”
Cara put her hand on her grandfather’s arm. “On a genetic level?”
“Yes, my dear. On a molecular level, there are differences, however.”
“Like a clone?”
“Not quite. There are no traces of the usual single-bit errors associated with the cloning process in this man. However, there are some unusual fluctuations which I can’t identify. Also…” Doctor Wilks trailed off, uncertain with how to proceed.
Tucker stared. “Also…what, Doc?”
“The mans’ eyes are artificial.”
“You mean, they’re glass eyes?”
“No, I mean they’re artificial. Fully functional, working eyes, yet made of a composite material I can’t even begin to guess at. There‘s some minute scarring around the eye sockets, very professionally hidden. They‘re indicative of a trauma, such as intense heat. I think this man was burned and had artificial eyes implanted. Not clones, not Regens, but real, electronic, artificial eyes.”
“How…how is that possible?”
Doctor Wilks shrugged. “No idea. It would require a massive amount of funding to even attempt such a thing. Maybe the winner of the Worldwide Lottery had a hand in this?”
Tucker shrugged. “Beats me. Didn’t that guy in Africa win it? Tried to set himself up as a Warlord?”
Cara nodded. “Selfish *******, if you ask me.”
Doctor Wilks cleared his throat. “Well, if he was so selfish, he probably didn’t have a hand in this. So, that leaves us with a mystery.”
Tucker grumbled. “I hate mysteries.”
“Sure you do, Detective.”
“Fine. I hate mysteries that involve me. That’s why…” He stopped, and frowned. Cara rubbed his shoulder tenderly. “It’s okay, Jason, really. We know why you’re here. You don’t need to explain yourself to us, we’re your friends.”
Doctor Wilks pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “Oh, yes, quite. The death of your young wife isn’t your fault, nor your inability to find her killer. In fact…”
“Grandpa?” Cara’s voice had a hint of a warning in it. Just a hint. But it was enough.
“Yes. I apologise, young man.”
“It’s okay.” Jason sighed. Sooner or later, he knew, it would all come down to facing his inner demons, and try to get past Emily’s murder.
The man in the hospital bed coughed, loudly, and groaned. Jason was on his feet, and by the bedside, in an instant.
“Careful.” Wilks’ clipped voice said. He was no longer the kind, if bumbling, man, but one of the best doctors in Paragon City. “Don’t crowd him.” Wilks looked down at the man…the other Tucker, as he opened up those fake eyes, and squinted.
“Too bright.” He croaked
Wilks cleared his throat. “Would you like me to turn the lighting down, help you re-adjust?”
“Whu? No, gimme a sec…” The man blinked. “Wilks? S’at you?”
“Yes, it is. You know me?”
The man chuckled. “Course. Doc Wilks. You’re my practicioner.”
Wilks took it all in stride, Tucker noted professionally. Didn’t even miss a beat.
“Very good. For the record, and to test your memory, can you tell me where you are?”
The man frowned. “Judging by my luck…Chiron.”
“Close. You’re in the Overbrook Medical Facility.”
“Change of scenery, then. We always seem to meet like this in Chiron.”
“Yes, quite. Okay, you recognise me, and you’re coherent enough to tell you’re in a hospital. Now for the big one - what’s your name?”
The man chuckled, and that laugh sent a shiver down the backs of everyone present. It was Tucker’s laugh. “Jason. Jason Temple-Tucker.”
Detective Tucker frowned. Nobody…but nobody knew about the ‘Temple’ part of his surname.
“I was born in…” And the man in the bed rambled on, casually giving details of Tucker’s own life, 100% correct, to Wilks. Tucker tried to avoid making eye contact with Cara, despite the fact he knew she was staring at him.
“Oh, and married to Emily Tucker, who’s pregnant with our first son, as you know.”

Detective Tucker’s legs buckled out, and then…he only knew that he was falling.

[ QUOTE ]
Chapter Two

[/ QUOTE ]

Well, short is the word 350 words. You'd fill half a page with it

It's a good section to introduce upcoming events or elements. It is building anticipation for the reader.

Chapter Four

C

TEMPLE/JASON

Jason and Sammy hurried outside the Tucker Building, looking for any signs of….anything.
“So, you’re saying you must have come back from the future?”
“Sure.” Jason shrugged. “It’s the only possible explanation. I came back in time, and…”
“And what, Dad?” Sammy spun on his heels as they walked, to face him. “Kidnap your wife for reasons unknown?”
Jason blinked. “I had to have a reason.”
“Such as?”
Jason shook his head. “I don’t know. But, whatever it is, it must be important.”
Sammy snorted. “Sure. Important to him, but what about you?”
“He is me, Sammy. Maybe he’s misguided, maybe I turn evil at some point…I don’t know. My point is, we won’t know until we find this future me.”
Jason stalked off into the darkness, alone.
Sammy sighed, and shook his head. “…I was sired by an idiot.”
He raced to catch up with Jason. “Have you considered another possibility?”
“Such as?”
“Dad…I watched you die. And now, you’re telling me that this future you didn’t die, but travelled through time anyway, for the sole purpose of kidnapping your...his wife, and taunting you about it?” He shook his head. “It isn’t possible.”
“Well, what else could it be?”
“I don’t know, either.” They reached the Base Portal. “Let’s go ask Sam. Maybe he has an idea.”

They both stepped into the Portal, and emerged, seconds later, in what Sammy had dubbed ‘Guardian Base’. Walking towards the giant monitor, Sam, the Artificial Intellience based on Jason’s deceased best friend, nodded at the pair, but otherwise said nothing.
“Sam, something’s happened.” Jason stated.
“Yes, I know. Emily’s been taken.”
“How do you know that?”
Sam shrugged on the monitor. “I’m pretty much omnipresent, you know. I’m just that good.”
“Riiiight. And do you know who took her?”
“Of course I do, Jay. You did. Kinda.”
“And…you didn’t think to tell me this?”
“Tell you? How?”
“Oh, come off it, Sam!” Jason yelled. “You’ve communicated to me before. In Pocket D, right before Susan flattened me?”
“I…oh, yes. Well, things were different.”
“How so?”
“Because they were! Christ, I don’t answer to you, you know. I’m my own person…program.”

‘Great.’ Jason mused to himself. ‘A Prima Donna PC program. I knew I should have uploaded Theme Hospital when I had the chance.’

“Besides.” Sam continued. “How do I know you two are really you two?”
“What?” Sammy blinked.
“Well, if there’s another Jason running around, why can’t there be another Sammy? Or another Emily?” Sam smirked at the Tuckers. “Yeah, didn’t think of that, did you? Maybe the Emily who was kidnapped had secretly replaced the one you think of as your wife, and mother. Maybe this other Tucker came to take her back.”
“Oh, please, Sam. I know my own mother when I see her. She doesn’t look a day older now than she did last week.”
“Maybe…” Jason reached for an answer. “Maybe she just ages really well?”
“Oh, come off it, Dad.”
“Haven’t you met your maternal grandmother? She doesn’t look a day over 40.”
Sammy sighed. “Dad…”
“Yeah, I know.”
Sam cleared his throat. “Okay, you two are definitely you.”
“Thanks.”
“There’s just one problem, then.”
Jason stared up at the screen. “What’s that?”
Sam pointed behind the two Tuckers. “Who the hell is that?”

Jason and Sammy turned, as one, to face the intruder.

Standing before them was a man encased in black armour, highlighted by a dark red flame pattern. On his chest, where Jason usually wore the emblem of The Truth Of The Flame, was nothing. The Power Belt Jason wore around his waist was, instead of a regular golden belt, a series of golden metallic skulls, with the central skull being red – and, on his shoulders, instead of the Tech-Pads Jason wore, were grey metal skulls with red eyesockets glowing.

The mans’ face, however, was identical to Jason’s own. Twisted in a perpetual smirk, the man nodded to Jason.
“Jay. Welcome home.”

“Who…who are you?”
“Why, I’m you, of course. Haven’t you figured out what all this is about by now?”
Jason shook his head.
“Well, then. Let me enlighten you.” He paused, and his smirk grew wider. “Firstly, my name. You can call me…Temple.”
Jason stood opposite his doppelganger, staring. His ‘twin’….Temple, stood easily, relaxed, watching Jason with amusement in his eyes.

Jason shivered, as his other self…this Dark Mirror…took a deep breath, and, using Jason’s voice, began to tell his story.
--Excerpt from The Guardian Stories: Reunion

I sat down at the meeting table, gesturing for Sammy to do likewise. He sat next to me, and I held out my hand, waiting for this…duplicate of me who called himself ‘Temple’ to tell his tale.

“Jason,” He began, pulling out a chair opposite me, and steepling his fingers. “What do you know, exactly, about the Theory of Relativity?”
“Very little.” I shrugged. “It isn’t exactly a field of speciality for me.”
“For me either.” Temple shrugged, and grinned slightly. “Of course, I’ve had to learn, as part of my job.”
“Job?”
“Yes.” Temple nodded, and looked me right in the eye. I tried to suppress a shiver. It was a truly…disjointed feeling, looking at someone who looked and sounded just like you, but carried themselves in a way you never dreamt you would.
“I’ll get to that in a bit. Now, the Theory of Relativity, as we know it, is actually two theories, not one. General Relativity, and Specialised Relativity. The theory of General Relativity states that, for wont of a better way of putting it, that all matter in the universe…whether a particle of sand, a building…even you and me, this table, everything in this base, curves Spacetime.”
Sammy looked up. “Spacetime?”
“Spacetime is where all physical events take place, in a nutshell. One Spacetime area would be, say, the orbit of the Earth around the sun. However, since that’s Space, and not time, another would be, to make another example, Jason winning the lottery.”

I frowned. “So, how many of these ‘Spacetimes’ are there?”
“Oh, an infinite number. The really good part, however, is that you have to factor, into those Spacetimes, the fact that our presence…warps them. Curves them, and distorts them slightly. Each Spacetime is unique, and can’t be duplicated exactly.”
I was catching on. “Because…we can’t occupy more than one place at any one time?”
Temple smiled. “Exactly.”
“But you’re here.” Sammy frowned. “So you are occupying more than one place at one time.”
Temple shook his head. “In a purely genetic way, then yes, that’s certainly true. Both your father and myself share the same DNA…the same remarkable good looks.”
He chuckled, and I didn’t like the sound. He sounded far too pleased with himself. ‘Surely I’m not that vain.’
“However, on a Quantum level, we’re radically different.”
“A what?”
Temple sighed, and leaned back in his chair. “Well, now we’re getting to the heart of the matter. You see…without going too much into it, the Revised Theory of Specialised Relativity postulates that, just as there are an infinite number of Spacetimes, there are an infinite number of universes to contain them.”
Sammy and I exchanged a look, before I turned back to Temple. “You’re talking about Parallel Universes.”
“Yes, exactly.” Temple’s face, although never losing the smile, tightened somewhat. “And you said that you didn’t know much about the Theory.
“Suppose, my friends, that you could travel to other worlds. Journey to see alien civilisations, people from radically different cultures.
“Would you do it?”
I stared at him blankly. Part of me wanted to deny him this, yet…it intrigued me.

“Of course you would. Mankind has always been curious, ready to explore the strange and unknown at the drop of a hat. However, I’m not referring to the travel between stars, no crossing the great void known to us as space. The great unknown depths of the cosmos hold no real secrets, not even in a universe of limitless possibilities. There is no need to endanger yourself, wrapped in a ship made of steel and composites, surviving on recycled air and tasteless dried foods, of hooking yourself into an abominable apparatus which is part seat and part vacuum cleaner whenever you need to relieve yourself. I refer, instead, about the travel to different worlds inhabiting the same space as our own. Different dimensions. It’s a truly staggering concept.
“Suppose you could travel to an Earth in which the British won the war of Independence. What would have become of your precious Paragon City then, I wonder? Maybe it would still be there, named Parliamental City? Or maybe not. Or a world where the Rikti have taken over? I’m sure you’ve imagined such things. I’ve seen them. I’ve lived them all.”

Temple stood, and paced the floor, grinning. This was his favourite subject, I supposed.

“I’ve been to places where you can be homeless, or a king. I’ve been five minutes walk in one direction from here, and seen things of such glory, of such beauty, that they’d take your breath away. I’ve been five minutes walk in another direction, and seen things that would give you nightmares for the rest of your life.
“Imagine it. Infinite possibilities, right here, right now, invisible to you, and everyone you know. Most people don’t want to even concede the possibility of life on other planes of existence, but they’re real. As real as you or I. I’ve travelled these worlds, these dimensions, and discovered that there are only four constants. And, before you offer up the age-old phrase that ‘death and taxes’ are two of them, let me assure you, I’ve been to places where nobody is taxed on anything, and places where people live forever. No, some things I’ve discovered are a lot more interesting to you and I.

“Did you know that, no matter what happens, there is always a Fire Guardian? The team of Jason Tucker and Sammy Edwards is never denied, both of them exist, in some form or another, throughout the Multiverse. Emily, too, is a constant. No matter where you stand, on whichever Earth you inhabit, The Fire Guardian and his friends are there, to stop wrong-doing, and live for truth, justice…all that stuff.”

I nodded slowly. “I’m sorry, but this seems like something out of bad science fiction movies. I thought these could only be created by someone travelling in time.”
“Yes, yes, and only then by someone driving a DeLorean up to 88 miles per hour.” Temple smirked. “Please, Jason, I live the life. I know whereof I speak.”
I nodded for him to continue. “Now, I am a part of a group in my Universe that…well, polices these Alternate Dimensions. The Guardians of Infinity, we’re called, and there was a very troubling sign coming from your Universe.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, it seems a Doctor Pendant, believing he jumped back in time to this point, tried to enlist the services of his past self.”
“Believed.” Sammy’s eyebrows shot up.
“Yes. However, what he did, instead, was to open up a portal that not only sent him to a different time, but also to a different dimension…yours.”
“So…the Doctor Pendant that died recently, the time traveller…wasn’t actually from this Universe?”
“No. And it must have been a shock to him to discover that the Pendant from this reality wasn’t a Rikti collaborator.”

I thought this over. “So…Sammy isn’t my son?”
“Hey!”
“Actually…yes and no. Genetically, he’s your son. Mine, too. But, from a Quantum viewpoint, no.”

Sammy looked stunned. Temple ignored this, however, and took a breath. “Part of the problem remains, though.”

I found I couldn’t put up with these lies any longer. “Why did you kidnap my wife?”
“What?”
“Come on, ‘Temple’, I found your note. You took Emily.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“That note was written in my…our handwriting!” I felt my voice raise, and I let it. “You come here, you talk some [censored] about parallel universes, and you kidnap my wife?”
“Jason, Jason, Jason. She isn’t ‘your’ wife. Nor is she mine. The woman you’re referring to, right now, is a wanted criminal across seven continents spanning four different realities. She’s a Supervillain known as Corruptor, who has killed both her own counterparts, as well as ours, in those realities. She’s amassed an incredible fortune by ‘our’ deaths that, if she decided she wanted it in paper money, and not in electronic accounts, would bankrupt this planet in a heartbeat. She targeted you for death, and, frankly, I’m sick of showing up just in time to watch coroners stuff ‘my’ body into a black plastic bag.”
“[i]What[/i?]”
“It’s true.” Temple continued serenely, and pulled out a small handheld device, pressing a few buttons before sliding it across the table to me.
“This is the Quantum signature of the woman I took from your apartment. Check it against you own.”
I stared at the unfamiliar device.
“The button labelled ‘scan’?” Temple shook his head.
I pressed the button, and a second later, another pattern, like a wave-line from an oscilloscope, appeared on the screen.
“Now,” Temple said with maddening patience, as if he were addressing a small child. “Press the ‘Comparison’ button.”
I did so, and watched as the two patterns on the screen try to align themselves.

It failed.

“Happy now?”
“Hardly.” I grumbled, before sliding the device back to Temple, who picked it up and put it back on his belt with one fluid move, and nodded.
“Where’s the real Emily?”
Temple sighed. “Honestly? I don’t know.”
“So, help us find her!”
“I can’t.”
I stared at Temple. “Why not?”
“Because, Jason, she’s probably dead.”

‘No, that isn’t…it can’t…’
“You’re lying.”
Temple had the decency enough to try to look sad. “I wish I were, for your sake. My own Emily…well, she was killed shortly after our wedding.”
“I’m sorry.”
He nodded once. “Well, then.”
“So, why are you here?”
“Excuse me?”
“You’ve got Pendant. You’ve got…Emily,” I bit back, “So why else are you here?”
“Oh, I just wanted to meet you. To explain the situation. You’d have done the same for me.”

I nodded silently, and Temple took that as his cue to leave. Standing up, he nodded back to me. “See you around, Jason.”
“Sure.”
Without saying another word, or even glancing at Sammy, Temple spun on his heels, and headed towards the Base exit.

When he left, and Sam confirmed the transport, Sammy turned to me, wide eyed. “Do you really think that Mum’s dead?”
“I don’t believe a word of what he told us. I’m going to find Emily…the one he has, and talk to her.”
“I’m coming with.”

Just like that. I started to argue, but Sammy’s expression, looking just like his mother, told me he’d brook no conversation.
“Okay.”

*

Temple pressed a button on his forearm, and held it up to his face. “Cain?”
“Yes?”
“They bought it.”
“Oh, good. So, the experiment will continue?”
“As planned.”
“Good work, Temple.”
Temple nodded, although his companion, Cain, could not see.
“And after we kill Tucker, and that dimension jumper he calls a son? What happens to his wife?”
Temple imagined he could see the smirk on Cain’s face.
“She’s yours, to do with as you see fit.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it…Dad.”

Chapter Five

B

TEMPLE

Christmas had come to Paragon, and with it, the sights and sounds of people rushing around, buying gifts, and pretending to be nice to each other, if only for a few days.

I strolled back from the Icon Tailors in Steel Canyon, where an obnoxious Frenchman had created my costume. I had decided on black armour, with a dark red flame motif. Since fire had burned me, I decided to have it etched onto my armour, as a…I suppose a sign of surviving it. The Frenchman, who insisted on calling me “Monsieur Tempelle” kept making the flames light, and easily seen. I, however, insisted they should be dark. It made me look more foreboding, as well as being harder to see at night. With a face-sock of the same shade of red covering my face, and dark yellow goggles with a black hi-tech looking helmet, I looked like a dangerous Hero. The tailor asked me if I wanted an emblem of some sort on the front of my armour, but I refused. I had no reasons to put a logo or emblem on my chest – I did consider a picture of a Coliseum, to represent a temple, but decided against it.

I pulled out a scrap of paper, and examined the address. 1161 Rankin Boulevard. Checking the street signs, I confirmed I was on the right road, and continued my stroll down to meet Emily. As I walked past the street sign, I was a bit surprised to see it embedded on the pavement, as opposed to being on a lamp-post, but, then again, it stopped vandals from stealing them. I mentally shrugged it off. It must be a tradition, or an old charter, or something.

Knocking on the door of the small house she lived in, I looked around, glaring at some gang members who were eyeing me up, presumably to see if I was an easy target. I held eye contact with the one who seemed to be the leader, until he backed down, and moved his men away. The door opened, and Emily peeked out from behind it, her eyes bright with confusion.

“Jay?”
“Temple.” I reminded her.
“Right, right. ‘Temple’. Of course. What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to escort you to the party. Remember?”
“The…oh, right. Of course, the Christmas party at the Mayors mansion. Well…come in.” She swung the door wider, and I strolled through, taking everything in.
“I’m just…on the phone right now. Make yourself comfortable.” She gestured through to her living room, and I stepped in. Everything was either black or white, and I frowned at her taste in furniture. She must have caught my expression in a reflection, or something, because she sighed.
“What?”
“No, nothing. I just never figured you for such a…bland décor.”
“It’s Retro Minimalism.”
“The only thing that’s minimal here is the colour scheme.”
“Whatever.” She sighed again.
“Em. The phone?”
“Oh, right. I’ll be right back.”
She hurried out of sight, and I made myself comfortable on the couch. I looked, from my vantage point, at the mass of photographs Emily had put up, to remind her of home. Strangely, a lot of them featured me. There was one of the two of us sitting at The Jolly Roger, my head in her lap, and talking animatedly whilst she smiled down at me…I remember when Sammy took that photo, he told us that nobody would believe that it wasn’t staged. Another one showed the two of us sitting on the tyre swings in the childrens’ play area outside the pub. Next to it, in a small silver frame, sat a small black and white photo of us going over a script in the college cafeteria, our heads so low they were practically touching.

All of the good times from our relationship. I looked over, and saw one more, which interested me greatly.

It was a largish photo, taken in The Jolly Roger. The main subjects in the photo were Emily and Sammy. Emily was pushing Sammy away, whilst Sammy was laughing. Sammy wore, as usual, jeans and a t-shirt, but, from the clothes Emily wore, as well as the crowded pub, I gathered that this was from the night Emily left me. The charity event for those blasted soldiers. Out of curiosity, more than anything else, I looked for me. I didn’t take the photo, of that I was certain; in fact, I didn’t remember any time where Emily wasn’t by my side, apart from when I went out to get some air, and she decided to stick her tongue down Pete’s throat – and, even then, Sammy was with me. Unless I was in the bathroom, it didn’t make any…
Wait.

I looked over at the bar, and squinted. The crowd in the background was slightly blurred and out of focus, but a man there was looking directly at the camera, and smirking. Although he was wearing a black rollneck shirt and, from what I could see, jeans, he looked exactly like me. I don’t mean me, as I was two years ago.

I mean, down to the scarring on the face and right hand, which he held up, his thumb raised before him, he looked like me. Now.

Very strange, and somewhat un-nerving.

I picked up the photo, to get a better look, when Emily walked back into the room.
“Good photographs.” I grunted, quickly putting the photo back down.
“Good memories.” She countered. “Because of a good boyfriend.”
“Em…”
“Jay…‘Temple’…I’m sorry.”
“Forget about it.”
“No, I mean it. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, and I threw your love back in your face.” I felt her hand on my shoulder, and, for a moment, I felt like shrugging it off. However, I let it rest there.
“I kept your ring, you know.”
“Oh?”
“I put it on a chain, and keep it around my neck. I’ve never taken it off, either. It’s a reminder.”
“Of what?”
I heard her take a deep breath. “Of what I lost. And it reminds me that I shouldn’t look somewhere else for ‘The Next Good Thing’, when I have the best thing in front of me.”

I frowned, and Emily must have sensed it.
“Jay?” She whispered. “Don’t you want to see your ring?”
I didn’t move.
“Jason…look at me.”
I turned slowly, and stared at Emily. She was, indeed, wearing the ring around her neck; in fact, she toyed with it nervously. Not that I could blame her, as the ring, the necklace it was attached to, and a pair of black lace panties was all she was wearing.
“Oh, Jason…” She murmured, and wrapped her arms around me.

*

Later on, as we sat in the midnight blue limousine, Sammy between us, bouncing happily on his seat and twittering on about how this was ‘Just like the old days’, I caught Emily’s eye, as she smiled at me. I forced one back to her, and winked, and she looked away, out of the window, blushing. I sat back, deep in my thoughts, as I realised that Emily, for all her skill, for all her talent, and love, now meant nothing to me.

When we had made love, that afternoon, she seemed…different, to how I remembered. She used to be more…fiery, more passionate, and definitely more interested in taking control of the...er, situation. However, this time, she submitted to me, in every conceivable way. This was definitely not the woman I fell in love with so long ago. Something had completely changed her, and, to tell the plain truth, I didn’t care.

We pulled up to the mansion, then, and I popped open the door leading out to the red carpet. I stepped out, and instantly had to force a smile for the cameras and press standing either side of the red velvet ropes leading up to the mansion entrance. Emily came up to my side, and rubbed my hand gently, as we were mobbed by various reporters. Paragon City Fashion Network cameras (How prestigious), next to CNN, BBC Worldwide, Fox, MSNBC…it was certainly going to be given press.
“And this is the Mayoral Aide, Emily Campbell, accompanied by…by…”
Emily smiled at me evilly. “This is Jason Tucker, the owner of The Tucker Foundation, as well as the newest Superhero on the block, going by the name of Temple.”
I was stunned that Emily had mentioned I was Temple, on worldwide TV, in front of billions of people. The press, however, seemed more taken back that I had been outed as…
’I’m going to kill her.’
“Mr Tucker! Mr Tucker! Why are you suddenly coming forwards as January’s Wordwide Lottery winner? Is it…”
“What does this…”
“How do…”
“Where…”
“When did…”
“Are you here…”

Barraged by question, I turned to Sammy. “Sammy!” I hissed. “Distraction.”
“On it.” Sammy nodded, having started taking to calling himself my ‘sidekick’, and taking his self-imposed role very seriously. He jumped in front of me and Emily, and yelled. “Wait!”
The reporters were stunned into silence, waiting to see and hear what Sammy would do. I wasn’t totally surprised when he went into an intricate break-dance routine, leaving reporters staring, and allowed myself and Emily into the mansion without further incident.
Emily turned back to watch him. “What on earth is he doing?”
Without looking back, I shrugged. “The Robot.”

*

It was nearly midnight. Nearly Christmas Day, and the party was showing no signs of slowing down. I glanced over to where Sammy was dancing with a redheaded Heroine, whom Sammy had introduced as ‘Sarriss Groundwalker’, who seemed quite impressed with his ‘distraction’ from earlier, which I had found out had been broadcast on televisions throughout the mansion, including one or two by the bar.
It meant no end of dance interruptions for me, as Hero after Hero patted me on the back, to thank me for everything the Foundation had done to help out in Paragon, and quite a few…I realised I was starting to think of them as ‘civilians’, approached me, to meet the latest Hero in the city, or to tell me about how The Foundation had touched them. It was the first time I had ever been the centre of attention, and it’s no exaggeration to say I was the centre of it. Men watched Emily dance, and looked at me jealously, and the women wanted to know how Emily had ‘bagged’ herself a multi-billionaire philanthropist, as well as a Superhero. I was really quite flattered when a few heroines gave me their phone numbers, and made the discreet decision to not tell Emily about it.

All in all, it made me feel very damn good about Emily’s decision to announce my identity to the masses. It was a buzz that didn’t even go away when Emily and the Mayor double-teamed me into giving a speech in front of the assembled crowd.

Standing on top of the raised stage area, in front of the band, I glanced out to Emily, who had half an eye on me, and half on her watch. I shrugged it off, and began to speak.
“Fellow citizens of Paragon…”

That was as far as I got before the roof exploded, and men in black armour began rappelling down.

Corruptor had found me.