Before the Barbeque

The Comet took his leave of the paranormal assembly, promising to join them for the barbecue. He flew back to the alley where he had left his clothes and changed back to Chris Donnelly. Stashing the Comet's costume under the front seat, he pondered the day's events as he drove.

He went to the grocery store to pick up dinner. Stephanie's raise deserved a celebration; no spaghetti tonight! Tonight, they were having...steak!

With his wallet lightened and his arms full, he made his way through the crowded parking lot to the car. Under the windshield wiper was a flyer. Chris put the groceries in the trunk, then looked at the flyer.

Big Brothers of America needs you! Our organization needs several dedicated men willing to donate their time and effort to helping the underpriviledged youth of our city. (Sales pitched followed) If you have some free time, why not give us a call? Be a Big Brother.

Chris thought about it. "They probably want people with jobs, too," he said to himself. "Would be nice, though. Ah, well." He put the flyer on the seat of the car and went home to start dinner.

Stephanie called at five. "Hi, honey. Listen, you don't need to pick me up from work today. I've got to talk to Becky about a few things, so she's driving me home. I'll be there around five-thirty. Okay?"

"No problem, Steph. Wait until I tell you what happened today."

"Oh? Was it exciting?"

"I'd say so, yes."

***********

Becky dropped Steph off just before five-thirty. Kissing Chris at the door, she purred with pleasure as he rubbed her back.

"That's perfect, honey. Right there."

"I made an appearance today."

"Oh?"

"At the de Young museum."

"That name sounds familiar."

"Cassie Salvatore, a.k.a. Odyssey, works there."

"Odyssey? Oh, the superhero? The one who's life is being trashed by the tabloids every night?"

"That's the one. Anyway, it was just after I left you..."

Chris described the events of the afternoon, ending with the invitation to the barbecue on Saturday.

"I would like to go, but I don't want to go without you. But if you showed up with the Comet, that wouldn't help this whole secret identity thing, would it?"

"No. But that's alright. I was going to be working in the lab on Saturday. We've got sixty-five things to do this week, and we're never going to finish by the weekend. So it actually works out."

"You're lying to me, aren't you?"

"Well, maybe a little. I know you want to go, and I know it's important for you to get involved with other paranormals. I don't mind, really. I'll do some shopping. I wanted to get a new outfit, and with the raise, I can finally afford one."

"I don't deserve you."

She smiled at him. "Actually, I don't think anyone other than you does." She kissed him deeply, and he picked her up in his arms. "Hmm. Who needs super-strength?"

"Yes, Agent Kestler, can I call you Terry? Um, here's my data sheet. Feel free to call me for business or pleasure. No, no, no! That is so lame!"

DJ stands in front of the mirror, grimacing. "Hmm. Agent Kestler, Terry, here's that info. How about a date?" He smiles at the hall mirror, attempting to appear debonair, but coming across desperate. 'Nope, that's not it. Hey, Terry! Are you doing anything next week? Great let's have drinks!"

He slumps down and falls onto the couch. "Oh great, I've become a single's bar drop out. Why don't I just ask for her sign?" Spice trundles over and licks his out stretched hand. 'Well, at least you love me, don't you girl?" Spice slobbers what appears to be an acknowledgment. "Of course you do."

Pulling his day planner from the coffee table he begins to pour over the next few days. "Ah, a break at last, Spice," he mutters, absently petting the lab with his free hand. "Looks like a three day weekend, basically. No flights this weekend. Excellent." He gets up and saunters over to the fridge, getting a Powerade. Looking at his watch, he sighs. Time for that workout. Yeah.

The next two hours are spent sweating and straining down in the basement on the weights, with another hour devoted to a run around the neighborhood. After a hot shower, he dresses and calls Cellular One. '

"Yes, this is Proteus, and I'd like to purchase a beeper . . . no, that's Proteus, not Mr. Proteus. As in the paranormal . . . uh, it means more than normal. No, no, not better than normal. Am I a hero? Well, I'm trying to be. Of course, but I . . . well, yes sometimes . . . no, I'm not sleeping with Odyssey . . . no, I'm not sleeping with Starlight either . . . NO, I AM NOT SLEEPING WITH DRAGON FIST! I have nothing against homosexuals . . . No I didn't know you were homo . . . I am sorry . . . No thank you, I do not want to go out sometime. I'm not being stuck up, I just am of a different sexual persuasion . . . No I am not too good for you. Um, could I just talk to the manager? Oh, you are the manager. Okay, well thank you for your time. Goodbye."

He sits back sighing, staring at disbelief at the phone. "Did you hear that, Spice?" She wags her tail in response, head laying between her paws. "I guess it's flattering that he finds me attractive, but still, that's the first time anyone besides a woman has hit on me. I think." He sits and ponders for a while. Shaking his head, he goes to the phone book and begins looking in it. "Kessler, Kessner, Kester, Kestler, Barry, Harry, Jerry, what is this the rhyming game? Terry. There it is. Yep, that should be her. Well, let's see . . ." He dials the number and waits for the rings. "Hello?"

Damn, and man's voice! "Um, I was looking for Terry Kestler."

"Speaking."

"Oh, you're Terry? I'm sorry, I was looking for an Agent Terry Kestler. I must have the wrong number."

"No problem, guy." Click.

"Whew! Spice, ol' girl, there's still a chance!"

DJ sits with the phone on his lap. "Now what do I do. Eh, Spice?" The black lab gets up and walks over, placing her head on his knee. "I guess I could call Odyssey, uh, Cassie, since she's the only other number I've got! Well, let's see. . ." He dials up the number.

"Hello, Cassie?

"Look, how many times do I have to tell you I'm not interested in switching to MCI," a very perturbed sounding Cassie says.

"This is D . . .uh Proteus. Remember me?"

"Oh I'm sorry Proteus. I thought you were this salesperson. Of course I remember you. Six-foot tall and prone to going desolid."

"Well yeah, of course you do. Unless there are tons of big gray men in your life. I was just wondering, could I talk to you for a minute about Agent Kestler?"

"Ah sure, OK." "This is going to sound really high schoolish, but what is she like?"

"Well, I think Agent Kestler is a wonderful woman. She's fun to be around and she really put me at ease when I first started meeting people from PRIMUS. She's got a great sense of humor and anyone who can survive Maria Chow's driving deserves a medal for courage."

"I was . . .uh. . . thinking about asking her out," he says in a rush. "Do you think that's a good idea? Or is it too much fraternization?"

"Oh I think you should," Cassie says, starting to hum the song "Matchmaker, Matchmaker. "Fraternization, what are you in the military? Agent Kestler is a really great person and if your smart you'll ask her out before some Iron Guardsman does."

"What are the regulations on dating paranormals? You seem to be okay."

Cassie starts laughing. "I'm not sure there are any dating rules left. But I haven't been out in the field for a long time, being married and all. Though it's good to hear that I'm OK, but don't let Tony here you. He might get jealous."

"Also, what did you want me to bring to your barbecue?"

"Bring your own meat - steak, hamburger, chicken, whatever. And you could also bring some chips."

"What time is it at again?"

"3 p.m. Saturday."

"Um, I'm kind of new of new to San Francisco. How do I get there?"

"OK where are you coming from? We live in South San Francisco."

"Thanks for all your help."

"No problem. I look forward to seeing you at the party. Bye."

Bye!"

"Tony, could you please vacuum the living room for me," Cassie yells from the bathroom where she is currently scrubbing out the sink. Parties are always a wonderful idea until you start cleaning up the house to prepare for them. Thankfully, Uncle Alex made the salad and some hors d'oeuvres earlier for me or I'd never be done on time, Cassie thinks.

She hears Lobo bark as Tony starts the vacuum cleaner. Good, he's doing that. Now I can set the table. As Cassie makes her way downstairs to the dining room, she can see that the weather is still bad. A light rain all day prompted Cassie to move most of the party favors inside. The grill is still outside, but she has provided Tony with and umbrella to compliment his chef's apron and keep him dry while he tends the steaks. I hope no one is a vegetarian, she thinks. I really don't have a non-meat main course.

Moments later, Cassie hears the vacuum shut off. Lobo suddenly comes barreling into the kitchen followed closely by Tony. "Would you like a treat Lobo," Cassie says, throwing the dog a piece of cheese.

"Cass, what's this?" Tony holds out a letter bearing the insignia of Honda on it.

"Hmmm, what?" Cassie mumbles, a piece of celery in her mouth. Crossing over to Tony she sees the follow-up letter from Honda asking her to reconsider her decision not to appear in their advertising campaign.

"Oh that," she says, putting down the half-eaten stalk. "They called a few days ago and wanted me to appear in their commercials for the new Honda Odyssey. I told them no. They just want me to reconsider."

Scanning the letter, Tony eyes go wide when he reaches the part of the letter that mentions $2 million and a new Honda Odyssey as payment.

"You're joking right -- you didn't really say no."

Cassie looks at him a little confused. "Of course I said no. It's exploitive. I don't think superheroes should be hawking products. If it was a commercial about breast cancer awareness or to encourage teens not to smoke, that's different. This is just shameless promotion."

"Cassie, honey, did you really think about this?"

"Of course I thought about this. I'm not stupid."

"Well, did you think about the fact that your car is pretty much dead in the garage right now," Tony's argues, his voice rising. "Did you think about the house payment? We don't own it yet. If we're forced to move now, it's going to cost us a lot. That money could be used to help the business. What if the museum fires you?"

"What are you talking about?! Is there something wrong with the business? Is there something your not telling me about." Cassie looks at Tony somewhat anxiously.

"No, there's nothing wrong with the business. It's just..."

"Well the museum hasn't fired me and if there's nothing wrong with the business, I don't see what the problem is."

"The problem is that one, you made this decision without even talking to me and two, we have no guarantee how long either of us is going to be employed. I'm a contractor. They can refuse my bid based on any reason - even one as silly as my wife being a superheroine and I would never know."

"Are you saying that I'm causing you to lose business," Cassie yells, growing madder by the minute.

"No, I am not saying that," Tony yells back.

"No, I think that is what you are saying. You're saying that my being a superheroine is making it harder for you to do your job and you think I should make up for it by taking a cheap advertising contract to assuage your worries."

"$2 million is not cheap," Tony bellows. "And I'm not saying that I think you are causing me to lose money or business. What I am saying is that you provide this city an invaluable service. What if something happens to you? What if, god forbid, you should be injured. The city's not going to come help. But if you had that money there, we could use it to pay medical bills or if I had to stop working to help you, we could use the money to survive."

"So I should pander to the lowest common denominator just in case something happens. You want me to go on television and hawk cars so that we don't have to worry ever again about money! Oh well, while I'm at it I might as well sell my self-esteem and pride. Gee I wonder what the pride of a superheroine is worth? Maybe $4 million?"

"Just stop it," Tony says, slamming his hand down on the counter. "You are behaving like I'm asking you to go and prostitute yourself. You are blowing this totally out of proportion."

"No, I am not," Cassie yells back. " You are asking me to sell myself to the forces of capitalism just so you never have to worry at night. Well, guess what Tony. All the money in the world won't erase your fears of what's going to happen next month or next year with this superheroing. All money will do is sugarcoat this. But if you don't like it, it's still going to taste bitter."

"Oh, the wonder that is Odyssey!" Tony replies, bitterly. "What a role model you are. Pondering Papadopolis, the paragon of purity. Won't take the chance of sullying her name. Always follow the highest of goals. I notice you don't take the bus anymore Cassie. When your car breaks down it's just poof and you're at work. Is this," he shakes the letter, "that much different."

When Tony mentions Cassie's hated nickname, fury lights up her face. She was mad before, but this just pushed her over the edge.

"Get out," she yells at Tony. Pulling off the amulet. She throws it at him. Tony catches it, surprised. "I don't want it. Take it. Go accept the offer from Honda. See what it's like when everyone is gossiping about you or staring at you. Suddenly you're in charge and everyone looks at you to make the decisions. And if you make a mistake someone could die. But don't worry about that. They'll forgive you a few dead civilians just as long as you fix everything in the end. Go do the damn commercial. Hell, get yourself a toy line. Let all those kids out there admire you and look up to you. Let them say I want to be just like Odyssey. When all you really are is a big fake. It's not your powers, not your magic. All you are is a fluke case of luck and a shinny little amulet. But don't worry about that because you'll still be getting your money. "

By the time she finishes the tirade, Cassie is wheezing - her breath coming out in choked gasps in between fits of tears.

Tony stands stock still, wondering where in the hell all of this came from. "Cassie, honey, I didn't mean to call you that name. I just want you to see that your holding yourself to an impossible standard. Other very upstanding superheroes make money. Look at the Hudson Hawks. You can donate some of it to charity. I'm just saying that the money could help. Cassie." Tony reaches over to her.

"Do not touch me. I don't want to talk with you right now," Cassie replies. She's being irrational. She knows it. But right now rational thought is not what she is capable of. In forbidding silence she walks out of the kitchen and runs upstairs to the bedroom.

The slamming of the bedroom door echoes back down to the kitchen where Tony stands in silence, holding the amulet. He sighs and looks at Lobo who has been cowering under the kitchen table.

"Not the best night in the Salvatore household, huh girl," he says.

Slowly he climbs up the stairs 'til he gets to the door. He knocks gently. "Cassie..."

"Go away. I'm not talking to you."

"Cassie come on. I know you want this back. I got it for you because I love you."

A muffled snort of disgust comes from the bedroom.

"Cassandra Papadopolis Salvatore, open this door."

The door swings open. Cassie grabs the amulet out of his hand and says, "There, you've done your duty to humanity. I'm not giving up the cowl or the job or whatever."

Then she slams the door shut again.

Tony who was upset, but not quite irrational, suddenly goes a step beyond rational thought. Stomping down the stairs he yells, "Fine. Be that way. But I'm not opening the door for your friends. You invited them. You can let them in."

Passing through the kitchen, he kicks open the screen door and goes out into the lightly falling rain. Wrenching open the barbecue, he grabs the lighter fluid and starts drenching the coals. All the while he is seemingly oblivious to the rain that is soaking through his shirt.

Downstairs a confused Lobo is left standing in the hallway, unsure if she should run upstairs to Cassie or outside to Tony. Suddenly the doorbell rings.

I'll be damned if I'm going to give him the pleasure of making me open it, Cassie thinks.

I'll be damned if I give her the pleasure of making me open it, Tony thinks.

PBEM Turns