Anna hit the mat hard.  She stared up at the suspended fluorescent lights, dazed.  No matter how many times she spared with him, she was always shocked by the sheer speed Tyrese displayed.  His raw strength, she expected that, but for a big guy, he was incredibly fast, managing to catch her by surprise and lay her out just when she was feeling good about herself.

The deaf gym teacher stood above her, extending his hand to help her up.  She waved it away, signaling that she needed a minute.  He nodded, walking away and ducking under the rope, dropping out of the ring.  She listened to him pad quietly across the gym over the sound of her own heart hammering away in her ears, before she rolled over and pulled herself up on the ropes.

Anna leaned on the ropes, catching her breath as Tyrese got a drink of water.  Four to six times a week she met up with him to train, in between her crime fighting, for over three months now.  And true to his word, he never asked her about why she was training, or pried into her life.  And it was infuriating.

This was mostly due to the fact that she had looked into him.  His career as an MMA fighter had been both early and short-lived enough that he had very little presence on the internet.  Likely because of this, he’d never made any real effort to hide or change his name, so it hadn’t taken too much digging for her to find his brief history before he wound up a deaf, mute physical education teacher.

Tyrese Cain had only fought professionally for two months, but already he was getting noticed, and soon found himself with an opportunity that would launch his career.  He was scheduled to fight the now heavyweight champion Marcus Kennedy, who even then was a superstar.  But, right before the fight, Tyrese seemed to drop off the face of the earth.  He had been missing for three years before turning up out of the blue on the other side of the country, and had worked a few odd jobs before becoming a teacher.

Anna hadn’t been able to uncover what had happened to him during his disappearance, though not for lack of trying.  And the curiosity was starting to gnaw at her.  As well as the guilt that came with that curiosity.  How did he not seem to care why she was, busting her ass training with him?  Surely he had theories.  Maybe he knew, and he just really didn’t care.  Or worse, respected her request for privacy, when she had disregarded his own.

And even worse, she couldn’t do anything about it.  Anyone else, and she would have made them tell her.  All her desire to not abuse her power, and it didn’t make a lick of difference, because she knew that if she could, she would have already made Tyrese tell her.  

Tyrese looked back at her.  “Everything all right?” he signed.

She quickly nodded, giving him a thumbs up before ducking under the rope and following him to her water bottle.  

“Good,” he signed.  “You need to keep your head in the game.”

Another one of those helpful tips he gave that she couldn’t help but read into.  How much did he really know?  He was no fool.

“My head is in the ring,” she signed back.  

“Then pay attention.  You’re ducking out whenever you’re getting hit, and it’s costing you.”

She spit out her mouth guard and took a long drink before rapidly signing back, “You were kicking my ass, I needed a breather.”

“It’s costing you.  You’re small.”  He took hold of her arm, extending it out until it was just a few inches from his chest.  Then he slowly extended his own arm, the knuckles of his glove, pushing into her cheek.  He stepped back.  “Every time you step in or out, that’s a moment you’re vulnerable, and I’m not.”

She almost mentioned that not everyone she fought was a six and a half foot tall highly skilled former MMA fighter, but she kept her hands clenched at her sides before she finally signed, “What am I supposed to do?”

“Endure,” he signed.  He took another sip of his water before popping his mouth guard back in.  “Again.”



Macy sat in the passenger seat of the news van, staring out the window.

“Who’d you piss off?” Carl asked.  

She turned to the reporter who was driving.  “What’s that?”

“Who’d you piss off to get stuck back in the van with me?” he repeated.  Carl was charming in the typical reporter way, but under that charm he was just abrasive enough to ensure that he would spend his entire career in the field, a fact he’d once resented, but Macy had noticed he’d seem to have come to terms with it, more or less.

“Who says I pissed anyone off?  Maybe this is right where I want to be.”

“Oh how the mighty have fallen,” James, the gruff camera called from the back of the van.

“You had yourself a pretty cushy set up back at the station.  There’s no way you gave up all that to come back on the field to do my make up.”

“Aw, you just don’t want to admit you missed me.  Rachelle made you look like a clown, and you know it.”

“Yeah, but like, the fun kind of clown,” Carl said, pulling the van up to the police barricade.

“I’m exactly where I want to be,” Macy said, getting out of the van, looking at the sea of police and S.W.A.T. cars surrounding the Bristol Bank.  “I’m where I need to be,” she whispered under her breath as she went around to the back of the van.

“This is new,” James said, picking up a case.  He tried to open it, finding it locked, and then he shook it, listening to the faint rustling coming from inside.

“What have you got in this thing, bricks?” James asked, picking up her bag.

“You’re getting weak in your old age James,” Macy said, climbing into the back of the van.  “You just get your stuff and I’ll worry about mine.”  

He grumbled something under his breath and set her bag back down.  Macy kicked it under the seat once he was out of the van, and then started helping unload the van and setting up the equipment.  She did Carl’s make up, not her best work, but her phone was buzzing, and she had more important things to do.

“You’re good,” she said, stepping back.  “I’ll be right back, gotta take this.”  Carl and James were already in shooting mode, not paying attention to her as she slipped back to the van and let the girl in the grey hoody into the back.

“What’s the situation?” Anna asked as she pulled off her sweatshirt, stumbling into the side of the van as she tried to wriggle out of her jeans at the same time.

“Five guys in surgical masks walked into the bank, pulled out automatic weapons, and started shooting.  The silent alarm was triggered, and when the cops rolled up, they locked the front doors and took hostages.”  Macy pulled her bag out from under the seat, pulled open the false bottom and pulled out Siren’s green scale armor.

“They kill anyone yet?” Anna asked, stopping off her shirt until she was standing in her bra and panties and socks.  Macy passed her the armor and Anna stepped into the leggings.

“Last I heard, they didn’t believe anyone had been killed yet.  They’ve got hostage negotiators and a S.W.A.T. team on the scene.”

“They’re going to love me stepping in,” she said, her eye roll hidden as she pulled the tight fitting armor over her head.

“You’ve been kicking ass lately, and even the cops know it.  Ask first if you can help, and if they say no, tell them to get out of your way.”  Macy put the wig on her, the one thing Anna had thus far been reluctant to give up.  

“Right.” Anna bent down as Macy fussed with her wig, trying to get her long red hair to look as natural as possible.  She grabbed one of her red boots, pulling it on.  “You got any ideas on how I’m doing that, by any chance?”

Macy shrugged, holding out the matching red gloves as Anna finished zipping up her thigh high boots.  “Hey, I tipped you off and got your costume here.  Stopping crime is your job.”

Anna pulled the gloves on up to her elbows, flexing her fingers.  “Yeah, I’ll just hope they let me close enough without killing any hostages so I can tell them to lay down their weapons and come out with their hands up.”

“Let’s call that plan B,” Macy said, pushing back Anna’s hair and fitting the domino mask on her.  “They don’t know your power doesn’t work over a phone or megaphone.  If they’re feeling nervous, and you give them an out, they might just walk out.”

“Like a placebo?”

“Placebo!  That’s the word I was looking for.”  Macy made a few final adjustments to Anna’s hair.

Anna stepped back, her transformation into Siren complete.  She’d argued against Macy turning down a promotion to go back into the field, but it had been rather handy, and they’d been very busy over the last few weeks.  Of course, Anna was also missing work, and the money they were both losing out on made this a very temporary situation, but one they were both enjoying, and Bristol was enjoying Siren.  Conveniently, there was always the news crew on the scene to capture her heroics, and the city was responding positively to their new heroine finally.

Siren pursed her lips.  “If they don’t go for it, that’s kind of a one off, and then everyone will know the limitations of my power.”

“Oh, good call,” Macy said, frowning.  “Look, you’ve got the power.  You don’t always have to have the plan.  March over to those cops and help them help you, help them, uh, help you?”

“One too many helps, but you’re right.  They’ve got resources I don’t, I’ve got a power they don’t, and we both want the same thing.”

“Yeah you do.  Go get ‘em!” Macy said.  She opened the back of the van a crack, making sure the coast was clear before waving Siren out.  “You got this,” she called after her adopted sister.

Siren gave her a thumbs up as she strode into the street, making her way to the police barricade.  

Almost immediately someone shouted “There’s Siren!” and the onlookers turned their attention from the bank to the costumed super heroine.

“Put your phones and cameras away, no pictures or videos please,” she said.  They complied, putting away their devices and looking on in awe as she made her way through them to the barricade.  They cheered her name; they reached out and touched her armor as she walked past.  And she basked in it.