Before Mei and Shane would arrange a fourth date, the Phenomenal Five found themselves battling Mindtwister, the sinister psychoanalyst-turned-supervillain, and the man who Emerald had discovered when she went looking for the new organised crime figurehead.

Known for his glib tongue and easy, persuasive manner, opinions differed on whether or not Mindtwister had any metahuman ability or whether he was, as he claimed to be, merely so skilled in psychoanalysis that he knew which buttons to push in order to persuade anyone into any course of action. He was nonetheless less of a problem when not given the chance to speak.

The biggest problem the Five had in the struggle was therefore Riptide, a raven-haired villainess with a mercenary heart, who was in town to return a favour to Mindtwister. Her hair cropped to shoulder length and slicked back, her black leathers, lipstick, fishnet tights and tattoos marked her out as a dangerous woman, and that was how she always carried herself.

Valkyrie and Wolf had had to focus on Riptide together just to contain her; Emerald had led Electrum and Phantom in cornering and subduing Mindtwister, whose persuasive abilities were only so impactful when facing people in mental concert with one another. And that left the gangsters Mindtwister had brought together to be a problem - except that once again, other local supers showed up to help out.

One of those was the new guy, Imago. He wore a close-fitting costume in a deep blue, the boots, gloves, and domino mask yellow, the belt shining gold. His long black hair was tied back in a ponytail.

He plunged into the fray with a confident abandon, visibly unworried by the guns the gang members carried. He just seemed to want to get his hands touching each one, through the clothing or on a bare arm. Whenever he did, the other combatants later said, his eyes gleamed brighter for a moment, enough to stand out even at a distance.

People he had touched disarmed themselves, lying prone on the floor with their hands clasped behind their heads. Weapons he had touched ceased to fire.

More than any of the other costumes heroes who joined the Five that night, Imago turned the tide. By the time it was dying down and the media started to arrive - along with the authorities - he was chatting with Emerald cheerfully, although she noticed his eyes kept flicking across towards Wolf and Valkyrie, who were…

…well, Emerald thought, no point in lying about it, not when anyone could see for themselves. They were arguing, Thankfully they were doing so on a rooftop, so it would take longer for new arrivals to notice.

Nonetheless she was wondering whether she should go up and try to calm them down, but before she had to, she saw Electrum climbing the fire escape toward them, and relaxed. Electrum wasn’t actually much older than either Wolf of Val, both of whom were seasoned heroines, but nonetheless the team as a whole knew that Electrum could be relied on to be the voice of reason whenever one was needed.

*

“Oh, why don’t you just drop it?”

“Because I still don’t know,” Valkyrie shot back, “why it is you decided to pass up on training!” After a moment she sighed heavily and said “Look, let’s be reasonable about this, okay? We’ve worked too long and too hard for this to have it slip through our fingers.”

Wolf’s tone was suddenly very cold. “Are you telling me my work isn’t good enough?” she almost growled. “Because I think if you asked Riptide how she got away, she wouldn’t say ‘Oh, Wolf let me slip through her fingers’, she’d say ‘Valkyrie wasn’t ready for a headbutt’.”

“I didn’t expect a headbutt, I expected her to try and break my grip!” Valkyrie retorted hotly, before collecting herself. “This is beside the point. I’m not saying you’re not good, Wolf, I’m just saying, as a team we can be better.”

The other heroine studied her quietly for a long time, but even in silence nobody who could see them would think tempers were easing. “I have worked damn hard my whole career,” she said slowly. “And when you got nominated the new Chairwoman, I stood aside from the leadership chase and I voted for you. But that doesn’t make you better than me. It never has.”

“All the more reason we should-”

“Let me stop you right there, Val,” Wolf answered, and this time it was a growl. “I like to keep quiet and do my job. If there’s no problem with the work I do, and I choose to maybe not show up when I have something better to do, then I get to do that.”

“But what is this that was so much better than-”

“Uh, pardon me?” Electrum had by this stage reached the rooftop herself. “You guys should know, if one of you punches the other right now, it’s going to be all over the evening news.” She jerked her head back over her shoulder, where the ABC15 news chopper was in the air. “What happened to Riptide?”

“She got away,” Wolf said, and “Got lucky,” Valkyrie answered at the same time. Both women looked at each other quietly, it being lost on neither of them that Wolf’s automatic answer had deflected the question of whose fault it was while Val’s had tried to take the fault on herself entirely. After a second longer, Wolf grinned, and Val gave her half a smile in return.

“Sorry,” Valkyrie said to the new arrival. “I just wanted to catch up before we head our separate ways this evening. Is Mindtwister in custody at least?”

“At least until he talks a guard into setting him free.” Electrum smiled to show she was joking, then continued, “I applied dental anaesthetic. He’s not going to be too persuasive until it wears off.”

“Good work,” Val said. “How about…” She looked down into the street below. “That’s not just our people down there,” she said. “I hope nobody’s going to try and claim we needed help.”

“We did,” Electrum said patiently. “And that’s okay. Heroes showing up to help other heroes is a thing that happens, and believe me, the civilians don’t think it means their favourite team’s weak, they just think it’s cool as hell.”

“Mm.” She looked noncommittal.

“Look,” Wolf said, “I’m sorry I missed training, but I’m not going to promise I’ll never miss another.” She walked to the edge of the building. “I’ve got other stuff in my life than being a heroine, you know.” And with that, she stepped off the roof, dropping away. She turned at the hip as she did, sketching them both a wave.

By the time either of them made it to the edge to look down, Wolf was sprinting away from the attention down a corridor. “Well,” Electrum said briskly, “at least she’s back to normal that way.”

“Who showed up?” Valkyrie asked, wondering whether anyone’s presence might be misconstrued.

Electrum shrugged. “Hatchette was there,” she said. “Flew in from Scottsdale is my guess. The new kid in the U.S.Armor suit stopped by.”

“He’s had that suit for four years,” Valkyrie pointed out absently. “Hardly new anymore.”

“Old guy had it ten,” Electrum shrugged. “This one should’ve learned that he’s a liability against anyone unpowered, though. Oh, and the actual new guy. Imago.”

Val nodded. None of them were tied to older incarnations of the Five; unlikely they’d critique the team by comparing them to older versions. “I’ll go speak to the cops,” she said.

“In that case, if you don’t need me any more, I need to be back home.”

“Go,” Val said with a smile. “We appreciate the time you can offer us.”

It didn’t occur to her until just before she landed in front of the ranking police officer, who Emerald had been filling in already, that Electrum got all the leeway in timing that she didn’t offer Wolf. Of course, that was because Electrum’s personal engagements got in the way.

Fleetingly, she wondered if Wolf could have something similar, but dismissed it. Wolf fought crime, handled her day job, and slept. She never did anything else.

*

Three hours after getting home, Emily Jacobson, better known as Emerald, was lying in bed unable to sleep. The problem, if problem was the right word, was Imago. He was still on her mind.

It had seemed perfectly normal when he drifted up to introduce himself to her after the battle had died down, and as he’d shaken her hand she’d been surprised by the way his eyes seemed to light up with hope. It was almost as if his power was active; if so, she thought, it must be some kind of passive sensor. Her own psionic abilities were alert against the idea of someone changing her mind.

In any case, he’d mostly wanted to ask questions about Wolf. Emily was sorry she’d only been able to give him some very basic answers, even vague in some cases, but Wolf didn’t like letting other people into her life. That seemed to surprise Imago; over the conversation, she’d definitely picked up the idea that he was attracted to the veteran heroine, and she’d even tried politely to dissuade him.

Maybe it had even worked; she’d caught Imago glancing at her own ass before he made himself scarce, not long after the police showed up. One of the officers asked her a few questions, clearly finding it suspicious, but Emily didn’t; most heroes without much experience disappeared not long after the police showed up. It took experience to be confident you weren’t somehow in trouble for trying to help.

None of this explained why she was still thinking of him hours after the fact. It was funny, though, that the more she thought about him, the more attractive his memory seemed. She’d been annoyed to see him checking out her ass to begin with, but the longer she couldn’t sleep the more it seemed like a positive.

And, to be fair, she knew it was a good ass.

For the first time, she found herself wondering how it would feel for someone to bend her over and cane her across her buttocks, to grope or spank her. To make her squeal.

Where had that thought come from?

It seemed to Emily as if it had always been in her head, unnoticed and dormant, waiting for a train of thought to make its way close enough that it could awaken and connect.

Emily frowned. Her psionic ability wasn’t in Mentros’ league, but she’d had time studying with him. The two of them had journeyed inside her mind so Mentros could show her how it could be seen from the inside, and so she could see what it might look like for someone to insert an idea into her thought process so that she could guard against it.

This wasn’t like that. Nobody had edited her thoughts. And yet here she was, with an uncharacteristic idea coming to her suddenly. One that felt somehow as if it had always been there.

She wondered what explanations there might be.

*

Two days later, in her private office, the woman known as Valkyrie heard the high-pitched, staccato buzz that meant her commcard had been activated. The official working day being over and there being nobody else around, she delved into her bag and checked the information on the thin screen strip. Wolf was calling her, not calling the team as a whole, and the call wasn’t coded as an emergency.

This specific combination had happened maybe twice in the last four years. So when she answered it, Val was curious and surprised rather than anything else.

“Wolf?”

“Val, hi. I’ve got a question for you.”

The commcards didn’t have cameras or viewscreens - miniaturisation was a focus, enough so that any hero who wanted one could hide them easily about their person in or out of costume - but all the same Val sat forward in her chair, radiating attention. Someone like Wolf only ever asked questions that big cases could rest on, and Val was hungry not just for another good case to work but for more proof that the two of them were still friends. “Go ahead.”

“When you’re getting ready for something big,” Wolf said, “a celebration or whatever, and you can’t just wear your costume?”

“Right.” Val wondered what on earth all this was going to be about.

“What salon do you go to?”

Whatever she’d expected, this was not only not it, it was as far from it as could be. “What?”

“What salon do you go to? If you need to look beautiful, I mean.”

“I usually book Snapdragon,” she said. “Wolf, are you feeling okay?”

“What? I’m fine. Of course I am. Anyway, thanks.”

“Wait,” Val said, but she said it to the dial tone. Wolf had already rung off.

Valkyrie sat back in her chair, a stunned expression on her face. For a time she was still, although only on the outside. Inside, logic was warring with instinct as she faced up against the unlikeliness that the explanation for this her gut gave her would have led to the results she had seen so far.

Her friend was behaving in a way that didn’t make sense for her to behave, no matter what was going on. And what could possibly explain that?

*

They met up, Shane and Mei, for dinner just two days later. The restaurant they chose was mid-budget at best, an out-of-the-way place Mei had suggested after soliciting recommendations from Phantom, who the rest of the team knew to be a bit of a foodie. It offered a take on French cuisine that fell somewhere between the sensibilities of the couple who owned it (both of whom had left France to find opportunity in America) and the sensibilities of their customers, which mostly meant that portions were larger and more of each portion was meat.

In any event, it was delicious, and Mei had a dreamy smile on her face as she set down her knife and fork after the main course. She sat back, resting one hand on the table, and Shane covered hers with his. “This is a great place,” he said warmly. “I don’t know if I’d ever have found it for myself. Thank you.”

Mei looked away bashfully, “I wouldn’t have looked if we hadn’t had this date to look forward to,” she said. “I don’t go out for food much.”

“Let me guess,” he said. “Protein shakes and calorie-controlled meals for nutrition rather than flavour?”

“Hey, now,” she deflected. “You’re in the gym plenty. With your forearms and shoulders anyone can tell too. You don’t get to mock me for my gymbro tendencies.” If anything he’d been too generous; she had gone over to meal substitutes almost entirely, just because she didn’t feel like she had the time.

Mei usually only felt fully alive when she was on patrol or, better, in the heat of battle, but the endorphins she could build up at the gym were a near substitute, at least some of the time.

“At least I make sure I enjoy my food,” Shane returned, but like her his tone made it clear he was finding this amusing. He squeezed her hand, his eyes lighting up. “You need to be more indulgent,” he said.

Suddenly Mei felt the impact of the wine they’d drunk, as if it had hit all at once. It gave her a strange kind of euphoric freedom, as if the invitation to enjoy herself was what she’d needed to consider a wider range of actions. “When you put it like that,” she said, “let’s skip the coffee and get out of here.”

A look of near bewilderment crossed Shane’s face. Mei could see him facing the apparent contradiction, trying to work out where she was going with it. “What about dessert?” he asked.

She burst out laughing. “I’m the dessert, baby,” she said. “Come on, let’s pay up and get out.”

*

Finally, Shane thought, I get to go where we didn’t get the chance before. And in the time between, she had started looking even better; her long hair was gathered up on her head, a bouffant hive with a bun tying off the remainder that perched on top, an amber ribbon tying the bun in place, and beneath it rather than halter top and casual pants she worse a loose summer dress, its hemline high, in a deeper orange.

He followed her out of the restaurant, then climbed into the cab she hailed. They were headed back to her place again. For a few moments he’d thought he wouldn’t get the chance, that when he’d pushed it had bounced or misfired somewhere. Someone pushed to be more indulgent rejecting the rest of dinner on a date seemed so impossible that he’d feared his power perhaps had limits he was about to discover, and Mei wouldn’t be moved as far as he clearly needed to if he wanted to conquer her.

She led him upstairs to her apartment after the cab and after he followed her, he wondered again how this woman could also be Wolf. It seemed even less believable now; she’d paid more and more attention to her hair on each date, taking it from the unkempt wildness that was such a recognisable part of Wolf’s look to a better organised but still untamed look, then to neatly brushed and organised, and then into this new style which he had to assume she’d had help with. The hair, the wardrobe, the way she carried herself…

Yes, if he did say so himself, the changes in her were really starting to mount up. It was more satisfying than he’d realised it would be.

She pulled him into the bedroom with an almost feline growl, her hand a fist in his shirt. He caught his balance smoothly, reaching up, and rested his hands on her shoulders. He concentrated on fragmentary images; meek eyes, kneeling legs, and he hoped -

He could actually feel the difference in her under his hands. In a heartbeat she was standing differently, less proudly upright. It was not that she had slumped, either; the change had been as close to instantaneous as made no difference.

Was he changing her mind, or was he changing her?

He’d learned about a month ago that his hopes could affect objects as well as people; he had been down to hopes against a handgun when one encounter as Imago had gone badly wrong for him. But when he pushed on it, the gun misfired, cracking open as the round went off in the barrel, just as he’d imagined might happen.

He’d assumed that was a different power to the ability to change minds, right up until that moment.

Shane smiled widely. “Don’t worry,” he told her. “You don’t need to tear this dress.”

Mei, it turned out, blushed very prettily, and his smile became a grin. He slipped his fingers under the dress’ shoulder straps and drew them down, trapping her arms in the fabric loops but also pulling her dress down to expose her bare breasts; true to indications, there had been no bra beneath the dress. Mei was still blushing.

“Beautiful,” he said. “No more emergencies this time?” He grinned, to show her it was a joke, but the smile he received in return was a meek and muted one.

“No,” she said softly. “No emergencies. I can focus here now.” She wasn’t apologising but that was fine; Shane thought he might respect her less if she’d apologised.

He took hold of her dress again and lifted it up from below. As her arms were freed, she raised them so that it could be taken up over her head and set aside. Now she wore almost nothing, her panties the only part of her modesty left. Shane looked her up and down, seeing her with new eyes.

Wolf’s leathers were tight, but they were also thick leathers and distorted her figure somewhat. The lycra she wore in the gym conformed to her body’s shape very closely, but all the same, seeing her like this was like seeing her with fresh eyes. She would have looked vulnerable except that there was still an amused twinkle in her eyes; no question that she was enjoying this too, maybe even as much as he was.

“What do you think?” she asked softly.

“I think…” He managed to stop himself from blurting something out. Too many answers had presented themselves and he wasn’t sure which one he might have said. “I think you’re amazing,” he said simply, then added “So this is what peak performance looks like.”

Mei laughed. “I always think I can get better,” he said.

“At fitness? Or at everything?”

There was a moment’s pause. When she said “When it comes to… everything, I’m a little rusty,” Shane could hear in her voice that it had cost her to admit that. He hoped the smile he hit her with was a reassuring one.

“I did wonder,” he said gently. “Something tells me that’s been by choice.”

“Well. Yes.” She hesitated. “But it’s different with you. It’s easy with you.”

“Easy?”

“Really easy,” she said. Her smile went from shy to impish. “Want to see?”

Shane was amused. “Sure.”

“Tell me to show you,” she said. Shane was pleasantly surprised; he’d thought it might take a bit longer before she was looking for his direction. Inviting it this way, even if she was still calling the shots herself.

At some point he’d need to take the reins, but right now he was happy with how this was going. “Show me,” he said.

Almost immediately she was on her knees in front of him, her buttocks resting on her heels, her thighs parted and her knees splayed out. She hooked her fingers into his belt and pulled him in closer, a couple of steps closer, then unbuckled his belt and found his fly.

It was amazing how graceful a series of short, brisk movements could seem.

Her fingers teased his cock out through the slit in his boxers, her touch cool against him, her breath warm against his stiffening tip. She looked up at him, his cock in her hand, slowly stroking his shaft. “See how easy this is?” she asked, in what was almost a purr. Her tongue flickered out across his cocktip and he jumped in her hands.

Rusty or not, she knew what she was about, knew how and when to tease to get the reactions she was after. And true to that form, a moment later she understood that the time was right to take him in her mouth, and she leaned forward into him, the thumb and forefinger of one hand wrapped against the bottom of his shaft, her other hand pressed between one of his hips and the buttock to ensure she had control of the thrust. She chuckled, amused, and her shivered at the vibrations that ran down his cock from it.

His hands weren’t on her, but he was touching her. He didn’t necessarily need touch, but it seemed to help him. Fiercely, he hoped -

*

Imago and Emerald encountered one another again that Friday night. Emily was out on a late night patrol, something she occasionally did with her Fridays when her on-again, off-again boyfriend Leon was off again.

For a psychic, patrolling can look very different to other heroes. Emerald would site herself in the centre of the area she was watching, settle herself comfortably, close her eyes, and reach out with her mind.

She didn’t have the raw power or the technical finesse of Mentros, but that mostly meant that the majority of her power was needed to shape complex effects one at a time. When she was sitting comfortably, her mind could wander freely within her mental reach, sampling minds.

She wouldn’t get detailed thoughts from anyone when she did something like that, but she could pick up emotions - and a sudden sense of panic or fear, especially one shared by multiple people in the same area, was as good a way to find somewhere she might be needed as any.

That was how she’d found herself facing down a cornered Major Impact - well, he was cornered now she’d arrived, at any rate. Quite what he’d been up to, she wasn’t sure, but it had involved knocking at least one local resident unconscious, and he’d been in the process of ripping open a garage roller door when she’d caught up to him, so there was no question he was up to something.

He’d been the result of Army medical experiments, his skin not just bulletproof but rocket resistant, packing a punch that could crack tanks and shatter walls. It had turned out that this didn’t make a better soldier alone, so he’d tried his hand as a hero after coming back to the area. Something had happened - Emerald wasn’t clear on the details, but whenever his name came up, everyone went quiet and looked at Wolf - and he’d shifted to a life of crime.

He had power, but he lacked direction, in other words; would always take the path of least resistance. In a straight fight, she’d lose; Emerald had no intention of allowing a straight fight.

He heard a sudden clatter from behind, which made him jump halfway through his punch and let her drop her shoulder and avoid it fully; the noise only existed in his head, but that was the beauty of a psionic noise; it only needed to be present in their head.

She followed up with a sudden stinging pain in his thigh, a message of pain that would make him feel like he had a cramp. All the while she was scanning their surroundings. Against a powerhouse like this, she might need unusual measures to subdue him, and those were going to need improvising.

As it turned out, she would need none of those methods. After perhaps a minute of carefully dodging an increasingly angry superhuman, she ducked backward past a doorway, and as the Major rushed after her another figure stepped through the doorway and touched him. His eyes rolled back in his head and he fell to the ground.

Imago looked up at her and grinned sheepishly. “Hope you don’t mind my cutting in.”

“Not at all.” She had her commcard out already, was activating the function that sent an alert and a map pin to local authorities. “You’re sticking around Phoenix, then?” She knew it didn’t really count as heroic banter, but that wasn’t her strength. She liked to think she brought the positivity that often drained out of superheroes after a few years; look at Valkyrie, or Wolf most of the time.

“Yeah,” he said cheerfully. “The place has some selling points, you know?”

Emily wondered about the way he was looking at her. “Careful now,” she said with a grin. “Or I might think you have eyes for anyone in a costume.”

Imago spread his arms, smiling warmly. “Someone told me Wolf was a no go,” he said. “But honestly, I’m not here just to get in folks’ pants. I’ve got powers. I want to do good with them, you know?”

“And it happens that you keep doing good in a way you run into the city’s premier - and all-female - superteam,” Emerald returned, but she matched his smile as she did so. “It’s a good thing you’ve already established a super ID.”

“Why? What would you be suggesting instead?”

She laughed. “Horndog,” she said.

Imago chuckled. “Guess I ran into that one,” he said. “And look, I’m sorry. I kind of flirt on instinct. You’re calling me out on it, and I suddenly realised I’ve got no idea if you’re even single.”

“Better. But you still have some way to go.”

Imago nodded. “Yeah, I know. All the same, I’m sorry.” He held his hand out for a shake, and as she reached out to reciprocate he nodded downward. “So what’s this guy’s deal?”

“Ex-soldier. Ex-hero. Waste of space.”

“Wow. So he switched his allegiance nice and easy, huh?” He chuckled, but his eyes shone with passion. “If it was me I’d want people to know they can be loyal to me.”

“Right,” Emily agreed enthusiastically. Loyalty was important. More people needed to understand how much so.

“See?” he said, his eyes alight with amusement. “When you get to know me, I’m pretty good.”

Emily hesitated, but not for long. “I guess,” she said. But she wasn’t sure.

“I’m going to want your help, Emerald,” Imago told her. He was speaking more quietly now, but his tone was urgent. Emily was immediately less sure that he was pretty good. But you didn’t abandon loyalty to someone just because they were dubious sometimes… did you?

She felt the intensity of what he was saying and how he felt about it and and she reeled, head spinning. “I didn’t come here looking for you, but now we’re here, I definitely want you to help me. But I can reward you.”

“You can reward me?” she asked quietly. It was the only part of what he’d said that had fully registered while her mind was reeling.

“Would you like to know how?” His voice was a purr, coaxing. Exciting. His hand was on her wrist now, and her was pulling her away from the scene of the fight. There was nobody else around, not after a recent fight, but the police were surely coming. Emily registered that his haste meant he wanted nobody to see, but that had to be okay. She was loyal to him, and loyalty was important, so this was sure to be the right call.

“Know how?” She had intended to say something clearer, more intelligent. It seemed like repeating what he was telling her, right now, was pretty much all she could do.

Which meant this was a bad idea. She shook her head, frowning, and the shake felt like she was clearing her thoughts at least a little. She opened her mouth to tell him they’d have to pick this up again once she had time to think-

His other hand came around her, came to rest on her ass. He patted it first with unearned familiarity (but she opted to ignore that, out of loyalty to him) then, squeezed one buttock, aggressively. His eyes shone.

Emily gasped. Energy surged into her and, in a way Einstein could never have predicted, it became matter, her ass plumping and firming into a true bubble butt. She felt a tension around it, then heard the seams of her suit begin to give, a large rip opening up alongside each glowing psi-channel to reveal an expanse of perfect dark skin.

Emily giggled, unable to help herself. She was going to have to sleep on everything happening, she thought, before she could catch up with everything.

“Do we have a deal?” Imago asked her, and he squeezed her ass again, tight enough that the jolt running up her spine included pain as well as pleasure.

She hadn’t had time to get it clear, but she had to answer, and she knew she’d have to commit when she did.

“Yes,” she said.