Dancing in Non-Euclidian Space

Sarah was rarely that scared.

There was very little of the everyday that could hurt her *physically*. Seeing no weak-spot her mentality had altered such that very little could *emotionally* hurt her either. It wasn't that she didn't feel pain - being a superhero hurt, sometimes an awful lot - and it wasn't that she didn't feel emotions - she did that too. But her coping mechanisms in both senses were very well developed, and even if she got shot at or dumped or knifed, or lost her job - well there was life.

And she was totally immune to fire.

So knowing this meant that fear had little purchase. Yes, when other people were in danger, or in particular circumstances, she could be afraid, but mostly not. She remembered reading that the definition of heroism wasn't that one wasn't scared, heroism was overcoming it - but yeah, for her to do this on a daily basis, she was mostly pretty much fear-proof.

But not now.

This was scary.

This was terrifying.

This was ballroom dancing...

*****

It had started only yesterday. 

She was having a group meeting with the rest of the art department, with a director talking about the episode they were shooting - three weeks from now.

"So I want darkness here...real darkness...that goes up and down the line."

The director was named Mary Whickman - which is important to shout out as there wasn't many female directors, especially in television, and they should be celebrated. She was also very good, though she could be very vague sometimes in the meetings. Film was a media where one was either very specific as a director and matched every detail, or vague and let the talented staff fill it out. Whickman went for the vague - and it worked. To the extent that Seventh District was a quality show - and it was a formulaic cop drama, was in the margins in the asides where kind of generic dialogue and situations where filled out. At these moments it could be legitimately funny, or tense, have a well constructed sot, or even occasionally dramatic.  

But Sarah heard her phone beep and saw that she had an email from Lana.

She should check it - she was learning a lot about lighting, when...

"Sarah,

Curious if your free tomorrow night. I have come into possession through means of two tickets to the Fifth Annual Tompkins Charity Ball. It’s at the Avalon Room in West Hollywood. It’s an event that benefits muscular dystrophy. It’s a formal event and very dressy but thought it might be enjoyable for us to attend.

Hope your day is proceeding well

-Lana.”

Sarah considered. She should do something for muscular dystrophy - a doctor once told her that a good way of describing her powers was that she kind of had the opposite of that.

Wait a second...a ball? Like when she got into a pumpkin or something?

How did that work?

Sarah had been to her high school prom, where she did not put out. She had been dancing as an adult at various music clubs in the south land. She thought perhaps that this was somewhere between A and B but where?

She suspected closer to A.

Okay...

She could live there.  That could be fun.

But did she have a good dress - something to wear - her shoes? Her prop master brain was going through the permutations of her closet Red - no . She (she had very, very little clothing that was red – because, come on, her costume was red) had a nice black dress with green trim that looked good and elegant, which she wore to industry events where it was nice to look good for. Nice pumps, no flats if she wanted to do any dancing...and...

Oh my god...she was going with a chick.

Sarah sighed.

She really needed to stop doing that. That wasn't useful at all.

"So third act we get to the scene in the distillery...I mean talking to location found a great place in the valley...but lighting-tight ceilings lots of shadows want more of them.”

Sarah realized she was in an important meeting.

Okay that may have been a stretch, to use the word important, but she was in a meeting and she owed it to them to give them her attention.

******

After the meeting, she and Lana talked on the phone. It was odd talking on the phone with her sometimes. Lana was never quite clear of what she was doing in any particular moment - and Sarah had the strong suspicion it wasn't good. Or safe. The flame was an extremely active hero. She had pieced together dozens of investigations at any one time, had claws into numerous law enforcement bodies on several levels, and well...just lots of shit. When she was at her house there were rooms she didn't want to go into. They frightened her – well, frightened was the wrong word, as Sarah didn't easily frighten, but wanted to avoid these places. Sarah didn't want to date the Flame. She didn't want to mix their magics.

But as she and Lana had a pleasant chat about it - the ball would start around 8. Lana would be happy to pick Sarah up and drive (which made sense as Sarah drank while Lana did not) around 6. They would have dinner first. Lana knew of a Thai Restaurant she had read good reviews about but never actually been to, and...it was an organized conversation. She asked about Sarah’s day, and listened to a few of her petty concerns, even offering some of her own. Lana didn't say what she had did. Sarah didn't ask. It was a pleasant conversation.

Too pleasant, perhaps.

Was she roasting someone alive on an open fire like chestnuts?

Performing tests on a sample of fibre to see if it had been near nitrous?

Standing in an alley watching a single child play with a teddy bear?

Listen to 1000 phone conversations at once of everyone in the city? And yawning?

(That last bit would have been difficult, as she was keeping up a convesation with Sarah.)

Sarah sighed. The banality of...well not evil perse, but something in relation to it.

But a ball?

Sarah had to load up a large calibre shotgun with blanks - which was tricky and messy. typically a couple of times a month she had to deal with them, and while the average person might think they were just normal bullets, except not, in reality they were temperamental little buggers with blackpowder that tended to get loose and jam the gun up, in ways that were often hard to clean. Shotguns with their pellets were theoretically easier and safer (despite the reputation if you shot someone with a gun loaded with blanks that’s it was really dangerous - but if you shot someone was a blank shotgun, yeah, you would probably be drummed out of the union...but yeah). However, they were a fucking pain to deal with.

And somehow a little of the powder caught on fire, and she was covered in soot –and...

A beautiful ball sounded divine.

******

Sarah smiled. She did look pretty. She always did when she wore something sleeveless. Her arms were her best feature. Large masses of muscle on large shoulders - but somehow graceful. Sarah could be described as a large woman - but the more flesh one saw of her the more one saw if her proportions were not some mathematic idea, they had power, and beauty. She smiled. She had a little opera coat to put over it - but no. She was just there.

And was going to a ball!!

Apparently you could do that in LA, if you paid, like, 75 dollars.

You learn things every day.

She put on black flat shoes, and got out that nice purse that matched her dress - and felt...happy.

She wasn't in love. She knew that, even though she never really had been in love. But she felt glad for this, this strange thing. She had been a real superhero for, like, 5 years. She’d fought monsters, and robots, and ninjas; and ninjas that looked like Klingons. But she had never gone to an elegant ball. This was a strange and tentative thing, but special and magical. Lana took her places that she never expected, to do things she never had done. And that wasn't a metaphor for lesbian sex.

Well. At least mostly that wasn't a metaphor for lesbian sex. 

There was a knock on the door.

And Sarah opened it to see Lana also wearing a dress. A long orange silk number that had puffed sleeves, and almost draped to the ground. It was beautiful. She was beautiful, with delicate makeup and her brown hair down in a renaissance ponytail.

And she had a corsage in her hand of a single rose.

This wasn't a friend who was picking her up, this wasn't someone who was there to look at her dress - this was...her date. Her companion, who intended to pin her, a term that she knew somehow.

And she felt terrified.

Lana smiled. Her smile.

"You look gorgeous. You really can dress up a prop master and make them look elegant. Better then a software engineer, anyway."

Sarah smiled. She had to, but the fear... "I didn't get you a flower."

"It’s just a silly tradition," said Lana. And then she kissed her gently.

Sarah was 50 percent sure this evening would end with sex. But that didn't frighten her. That was just sex. Girls have sex with other girls. But go to balls with them? Dance with them?

Oh God - they would have to dance together.

*****

But first they had dinner. Women did eat dinner together all the time. She could handle it.

Dinner was at a Thai Restaurant - a fairly good Thai Restaurant. Thai was one of those cuisines that Sarah was aware existed - but well, other then a boba milk shake once or twice, never dipped into. She remembered banana peels were important - her dish contained vegetables wrapped in them. It was good. She had a vegetarian dish so she could share with Lana, as often Lana would give her large portions of whatever she was ordering. So she wanted to return the favour.

Lana was so very thin, but her peanut sauce covered rice was quite tasty.

They got odd looks. Sarah had expected an elegant local something with fine china and attentive staff for a night at the ball. However, this was semi-divey. Formica and paper napkin holders – chopsticks, but it was well, a lot like an Asian food restraint in central LA. The patrons were a mix of Thai and non Thai - the sight of two women wearing ball gowns and obviously a couple - who occasionally fed each other - was curious.

It wasn't a hostile curiosity - but it was unwelcome. Even the waiter, an older man looked slightly tentative toward them, as if any moment something would happen: they would make out or call the fire department.

Instead they only talked. Sarah wasn't quite sure about what, but they talked. And it was pleasant, easy - it may have been about her early jobs in the industry, encounters with actors, Lana’s travels in the world...it may have been something else. But Sarah smiled, and she was happy and her fears were washed away. Lana’s hand held her and she felt firmly held.

Then she looked around the room, and felt so alone...and afraid.

And back again.

About five times over the course of the meal.

*****

They parked the car outside the Avalon, which was a dance club. Sarah had been there a couple of times - in various guises and at various stages. Trip hop night, a performance by Sleepy-time Gorilla Factory, just a night. But this was different.

But it was almost comforting that parking was a bitch. It made it real. LA was a city built around plentiful and free parking. Except in Hollywood. There it was outrageously expensive and horrible. And Sarah didn't have to deal with it!

She smiled and relaxed. Pointedly not into Lana, giving her space.

Not that Lana looked in the least bothered or alarmed, or taxed, by the experience. Her Vulcan-like expression rarely changed, as they saw a lot full and then a second...spaces. It wasn't really a story. She didn't regard it as such. Just parked the car and they got out, Leaving their carriage that looked suspiciously like a Lexus, a car that looked especially like a tarted up Toyota.

They walked together. Sarah looked down. She had to - Lana was shorter then her, though Sarah herself was reasonably short.  As she did this, she saw her own boobs. Damm. They were good. She realized that for Lana, her eyes were near there level - not quite but...

She wondered what Lana saw in her. Did she look at her boobs? She knew Lana liked her boobs. Was she like a guy, and all she saw was a pair of boobs and a cup holder? Lana thought about her.

That didn't quite make her scared, but it was there.

They reached the door. It was a plain, ordinary building - most night clubs were.  Actually, one could even describe it as ugly. Normally from outside you could hear music.

Tonight there were a couple of men in Tuxedos. And not those bouncer tuxedos you sometimes saw in LA, but actual tuxedos. And not much hair. Not from being black and bald, but from being, like, 60 and grey haired.

Men and women where gathering out in front - all well dressed. Some obviously better dressed then others.  Some of them where greeting each other, and it all looked very cheery.

And in walked two girls. Who were ‘together’. At some point Lana had put her arm in Sarah’s. It must be her damm magic. Lana reached into her purse and pulled out two tickets.

 No one outside seemed to recognize them.

And they entered.

The space was plain and boring - however it had been tarted up with too many flowers. Not steamers, but flowers, some rows of them azaleas, posies, and roses - so many roses. It looked like a Kevin Spacey movie.

The room had been setup with tables, like you might see at a wedding, in a couple of spots. The chairs looked nicer. The bar (which was of course paid) still looked divey.

There was a dance floor that was mostly empty, but the night was just beginning.

And on the stage was...a string quartet. With a piano. And...oh god...a flute

Someone had let in a flautist!

Sarah’s eyes glimmered. When she had expected a dance, she had expected - well dancing: do whatever you want dancing.

These. People. Were. Waltzing!!

My god

Waltzing!!!

*****

Sarah went into the bathroom. Closed up the stall. Fear.

It wasn't pretty.

She hated not being brave.

Hated it.

She heard a noise as someone entered. It was lana from the sound of her shoe.

"It’s not hard dancing," said Lana. "You’ve seen one of those television shows...what is it? I saw like five minutes of it once.”

"Dancing with the stars?"

"That sounds about right," said Lana. She was clearly leaning agianst the bathroom stall.

"Glider was on it."

"That sounds about right," said Lana. "It’s easy.”

Sarah paused and relaxed ever so slightly. She realized something. The Flame –Lana - she was the only one who had, recently, really scared her. Even the villains mostly just annoyed her, but The Flame - she could make her feel real fear. If one is poetic, make her feel.

And she realized something.

"How come you’re in this bathroom?" Asked Sarah.

"I'm...a girl."

Oh yeah. Funny that.

And Sarah went out to face her fear, taking Lana’s hand in hold.

And found that outside the bathroom the universe had been replaced with a non eclidian space.

***

"Huh?" said Sarah. "Are we dreaming"

"it’s not quite dreaming - it uses the same part of the brain, but that’s not the word," said Lana - who had instantly turned into The Flame. Not her dress, but how she spoke and acted. It wasn't as if they were night and day - but well, dusk and night, or something stupid like that. She was The Flame.

"Right, Jarmin, as always. You were always right...always so sure of yourself." The voice Sarah vaguely recalled from an unpleasant encounter at her gynaecologist. He was also the only one who used the term Jarmin. Sarah had meant to look it up but had forgotten - you know how it is- and she forgot his name. She hoped Lana would say it, as it could be awkward.

"shalk," said Flame. "aah."

She was a catch wasn't she?

"Did you think a western prison could hold me?"

Sarah realized that they were in an empty void with no left or right, no up or down - it could be said to be empty or completely full, endless void or 1 inch in front of her face. The only thing she had for a constant was that next to her was  the Flame. That was the constant. But she couldn't see Shalk, or be sure where or how his voice was coming. This didn't phase Flame in the slightest.

"well then, I won't use a western prison next time," observed Lana. "i was with her and used mercy. my mistake."

"I made several in our most recent encounter. I won't again. And I do see you are with her. Are you *with* her?"

"yes, no reason to deny it," said Flame.

"Revenge on both of you at once. How sweet."

"So how are we going to do this?" interjected Sarah. "’Cause we were kinda on a date. We’re going to do a little dancing, I just built up the courage, really, and I want to ride that."

"I'm not going to do anything," said Shalk. "That was my mistake the first time. I am just going to keep you trapped."

There was a dramatic pause.

"For all time."

Well, if it was going to be all time, no reason not to put in a dramatic pause.

Flame considered.

"I am not present on the psychic plane,” Shalk gloated, “So you can't destroy me. There is no space to do so either. You are trapped."

"No, we’re probably in a bathroom at a nightclub," said Sarah. "Knocked out or something. I mean even if you lock the door at closing time someone will let us out.”

"by forever" Flame said, "He is actually referring to maybe 5 seconds. a brain can process an awful lot...like dreaming we can spend forever in here.  it’s just an illusion, like time with my own private hell. Just a different type really."

"Well, that’s good. It’s then...”

"awareness of an illusion doesn't make it any less real. knowing a mirage doesn't exist doesn’t makes it any less tangible. it’s not like we can wait it out. it’s forever."

"So what do we do?"

Lana considered.

"And what happens after forever?" demanded Sarah.

"ask a priest" said Lana "i read a little thomas aquinas in college and he had some interesting ideas on the subject."

Sarah paused for a moment.

Again, she had time for it.

"So Shalk," she asked, "What’s the story?"

"I am not going to be baited by you," said Shalk.

"Well, if we’re living in a space of infinite time...if you’re putting it together...you must also exist in the same dimensional construct. You talked with us. So there’s an exit.”

"There is no escape."

"So your trapped here too," said Sarah. "Interesting.”

"Words can't help you," said Shalk.

"That’s a shame. I’ve watched a lot of Dr Who, and since I usually, well, just punch the villains, it’s a waste.”

"Ahh. You’re ‘Mazing Girl, right? I did read about you," Shalk said. “That explains how you so easily beat me. Again, then I was not prepared."

"And you’re not prepared now."

"How’s that?"

"Well, if you constructed two universes with no conceivable entrance between the two, one for us and one for you," said Sarah, "However you gave us an infinite amount of time to conceive it...this is a monkeys and Shakespeare method...there has to exist a method of breaching it, just we haven’t thought of it and ergo it must exists.”

"Well you can try."

"Sure Shalk, it may take a 1000 years but ... you know what. This is how dreams work. When you really spend forever in a dream you have a few minutes of something interesting then skip over the boring parts. Let’s do that.”

****

Sarah found herself next to Shalk.

She punched him into unconsciousness with one blow.

******

Sarah woke up, her head next to the bathroom stall.

She opened the door and saw Lana lying on the floor, still asleep.

She wondered...had she really spent forever?

And Sarah realized this could have been her chance to spend forever with her.

That would have been romantic...

Insane, in a Lovecraftian sense.

But romantic nonetheless.

Sarah leaned down to kiss her, to wake her up as a way to repay...

"you’re what happens after forever," declared Lana, looking up at Sarah tenderly. as her eyes flittered.

There were moments. There were moments after sex, now waking, when Sarah thought she saw a flicker of something through Lana, a flicker of emotion - maybe even.... - across her eyes. But it was only ever a moment. And then it past. And then she was Lana again.

Which was good. Because when she turned she saw Shalk’s dead body on the ground behind her. She also noticed that the door to the bathroom was locked.

Lana got up.

"they say you can't really die in a dream." Lana got up and walked towards the body. She smelled the remnants of his breath.

"laudanum. massive does. Its’ a drug that creates odd dreams, maybe gave him his power or worked with it. he probably intended to die. Not wanting to see after forever, as you put it."

"Who was he?" asked Sarah. "Come on.”

"my old teacher" said Lana. "one day I offended him and he could not stand it...so... a waste, but so i often i encounter it, i am numb to it."

"Like an evening, I guess."

"and it was a sealed room mystery. So many pieces...figure them out. i had worked out 23 solutions in my head, but wanted to see if you could find one first." Lana shrugged and unlocked the door. She walked out. "well, a dead body can put a damper on a ball."

Sarah followed her, stoped and grabbed her hand with hers and locked the door handle with another.

"What ae you doing?" demanded Flame.

"Well, the story is going to be an old man committed suicide in a girls bathroom at a nightclub. It’s a fucking horrible story," said Sarah. "But that story can wait. I was promised a waltz.”

Lana looked at her.

And it was Lana. Not The Flame but Lana. Sarah could tell the difference. Kinda. It wasn't the voice so much, but the eyes.

And Lana took Sarah’s hand...and they started to dance.

A beautiful dance.

An awkward dance, yes, but a wonderful one.

Sarah, being the taller one, lead Lana across the floor in a dance that, yeah, was pretty easy. If people noticed that it was two women, Sarah didn't see.

And it lasted forever.

Until they heard a very loud scream.

Well nothing lasts forever...

But Sarah had had her ball, and she was satisfied.

Proper Hygeine is Important

Well, no-one likes to go to a doctor.

For an invulnerable superheroine, this was trickier still.

Sarah was generally glad she had good health - and as far as could be told, fairly normal anatomy. Other then skin that was for all practical purposes unbreakable, bones too...well, general invulnerability, unlimited stamina, super strength. And the ability to hum really well.

However, if you gave her an X-ray (the hospital kind, not the superhuman type) you would find her normal enough lungs, pancreases things of that nature. So it all kind of worked, and kept her in, generally, pretty good health.

Which was good, because doctors tended to, like, to want to draw blood, and things like that.

But she was a having a problem, an embarrassing problem, and on this day she went dutifully to the doctors office, as was allowed under her Trade Guild medical plan...

Her doctor’s office was in a big medical building, which was good. It made it seem fancy and important, which she liked in professional service. Her accountant and her lawyer were all in big buildings too. She thought it would be cool to jump up to their offices and talk to them out the window but she knew the glass in these buildings was very thick and hard to talk through, and in this case she had to show her vagina off which would just be awkward 20 stories up.

And besides, she liked the big brass covered elevator.

She got in with about 5 other people. Elevators were fun. This wasn't a fast elevator. but it was a very nice looking one. She could appreciate good art design, being an art designer herself. If she hadn't gotten into movies, she probably would have ended up as something like an interior designer (she knew a lot of people who worked in her field who did that on the side) and she liked spaces.

She looked into the glass reflection to see a woman standing next to her.

Did she recognize her?

The woman was about 5'1 long black hair wearing a pants suit and a tie with a vest. Stylish enough. She had a slightly serious, sombre look.

She looked a bit more carefully at the woman’s face. Huh? Was there...? Did she know this woman? A good/bad thing about working in TV was that you saw a lot of people. Tons of actors, extras, crew members, passers-by on the street. Most days she was introduced to a dozen people, who scarcely went by her. And in her other line of work...well, even more. She wasn't a politician, but ‘Mazing Girl wasn't above shaking peoples hands.

But this woman...

She was pretty. Very small, very thin, with long black hair, and...

Oh...

She waited for her to leave, not wanting to make the situation awkward.

However, on the 20th floor Sarah got out...and so did the woman she recognized as The Flame.

They walked forward down the hall - and Sarah opened the door to go into...

"Oh, are you here for Dr. Yamata too?" asked The Flame.

"Yeah," said Sarah.

She was 90 percent sure. That wasn't a good percentage. Not to really confront someone. Sarah had been confronted a couple of times about being 'Mazing Girl, But she suspected a large portion of her secret identity was based on the concept that people were just too awkward to ask her about it.

However, the woman noticed it before she walked in and whispered.

"Are you...."

Sarah nodded. "And you?”

The Flame nodded.

They walked in.

It was a nice waiting room. That’s what Sarah looked for in an office. Lots of girly magazines to which Sarah didn't read unless she was in a doctors office. Golf Digest which was a better magazine then you might imagine, even for someone who cared nothing for sports and less for golf.

Sarah found a chair. The Flame sat next to her.

"So...what are you in for?" asked Sarah.

"Pap-smear," said The Flame.

"It’s good to check that out every year," observed Sarah.


There was an awkward pause.

"I am having pain when I pee" said Sarah. "I think something with yeast."

"Ugh," The Eternal Flame shuddered.

"It’s getting greener..."

And The Eternal Flame let out a low laugh.

"I can't laugh when I’m in costume."

Sarah smiled at the Eternal Flame and put her hand on her thigh, and shook it.

"Wait, their going to call your name," Sarah said.

"Or their going to call your name," said Flame.

"Yeah," said Sarah.

"I’m going to go up ask to use the bathroom," said Flame. "Tell them. They'll find me as opposed to calling my name out-loud.


"This is silly," said Sarah.

"I agree," said Flame. "It’s the nature of things."

There was a pause.

"However, you know...maybe we can go out for drinks or something like that...no reasons we can't be friends."

Flame closed her eyes. "I don't drink." She walked up towards the receptionist, who led her in.

Sarah waited for a long time. She got an issue of Golf Digest. She then realized that she was the only woman in the room. Which wasn't that unusual for a gynaecologist.

Sarah started to read the magazine, and was instantly entranced in a world of five-irons, tee times, and articles about professionals she didn't know or care about. There was the black dude they profiled. God, that was the first thing she thought about Tiger Woods? She was disgusted in herself.

And she pulled out her iphone and confirmed. He wasn't really black either. Yeah, she remembered that vaguely. He got into some weird trouble a couple of years ago.

And before she knew it was 1:30. Her appointment was for 1:10. No receptionist called her name. She went to the front, and realized there was no receptionist at the desk. She didn't remember her that well from her visit last time, but she was an older black....

Oh, fuck herself.

Sarah shrugged and looked in. She opened the door to the office...

"Is anyone here?" she called out...

And fell over unconscious.

***

Sarah awoke inside a small cage, inside a large black void.  Beyond the metal cage there seemed to be nothing, no walls, no ceilings, just darkness and black.

How long she had been out, she had no idea. She didn't feel any of the after effects of drugs or things like that. In fact, she felt fine.

The cage looked like something you would hold a rampaging gorilla in. lots of thick steel bars, 10 feet by 10 feet. Big...strong. It looked to be very well constructed.

Sarah grabbed two bars of it, and effortlessly pushed them open. She heard the whine of the metal as it went – however, while in the movies this took a while for superman to use his incredible strength against the metal, for her it was easy as plying two slices of bread apart. Actually, as she did so the metal stress literally pulled one of the bars out of the sockets, letting it fall in the air.
 
Childs play.

She suspected that she had an advantage, no-one would put ‘Mazing Girl in such a light cage.

She put her hand to the ground to feel the floor.

And felt nothing at all.

Huh?

Sarah shrugged, and grabbed the edge of reality and pulled it back with her arms. Her awesome strength destroyed the fabric of existence easily enough.

The giant black void around her was ripped aside and she saw-a white void. For about a second.

Then what looked to be an Asian garden. The lines of pagodas, chrysanthemums, streams, and pine trees, formed out of nothing.

This looked simple enough.

Then came the ninjas.

They jumped in, spinning about as they tended to do in movies. Wearing black pyjamas, they came in from nowhere.

What her assailants probably didn't know, was that she had actually fought ninjas twice in the ast  last month, actually. The thing about real-life ninjas – they don't wear ninja getups. They actually tend to be real good at looking like normal people, particularly ones you don't notice. They had actually looked like a group of bums in one case and star trek cosplayers(which wasn't normal but well).

These looked like something out of a comicbook.

Which was fun for her, as she rarely encountered the absolute comicbook.

One of them came at her with a sword, with a mighty kai, to slash her in her half.

It hit her invulnerable skin and did less then nothing.

She  grabbed his hand and his sword and then proceeded to toss him out of the universe.

But now she had something fun to use.

There were about--oh 20 ninjas. conversation of ninjutisu.

She started to move faster then the normal eye could process.

She began, moving a 100 miles an hour, to slash them, cutting them up like cordwood. the blade was extremely sharp, and made quick work of them as they fell before they even realized what was happening to them, falling down to the ground in waves of mook. It was fun.

However, for each ninja she dispatched into small ninja chunks - taking one, tossing him into the ground, and cutting him into exactly 5, more appeared. Exactly...

She had managed to dispatch 85 of them in about 20 seconds. However, this was still taking too much time.

She punched the ground. It was something she always wanted to do. Hell, the great danger was less the ninjas then the part of her that just wanted to cut loose, to be the infinitely strong, infinitely powerful person she fantasised about - which was complicated by the fact that she actually was infinitely strong and powerful.

But with at least 500 ninjas, this should help with that.

The punch sent a giant shockwave through the garden, breaking most of the structures, creating a gigantic rift through the environment, a wave of devastation over the ground. The ninjas flew backward from the punch, flying through the air as if they had been hit by a bomb. Which they had, in effect. The ones nearest to the blast almost disintegrated into nothing, and nothing was there, just them.

And five more appeared.

There were now at least 2500 ninjas around her.

And they started to act funny.

There is a concept in video games called frame rate - the idea if too much is on the screen things start to take a hit - and the reality of, say...Call of Duty changes from smooth sense of the real, to a choppy mess.

The same thing was happening with her world. 

They were moving slowly, if at all, appearing in blurry sync, giving a sense that they were copying motions of each other - they flickered in and out of existence, in and out of reality.....

And she noticed to her left a small crack in reality with something past it...

And ‘Mazing Girl pushed her way in.

There probably weren't too many layers left.

*****

She was in a large house. Actually, too large. She was clearly in a hall but everything was at least 10 feet tall. However, it was a hall...the concepts of the universe where ill-defined for space here, ill-defined for reality.

Then she had a sense perhaps of where she was. She was in a child’s home, a child’s space - she was looking up at the railings of a stairway going down into a children’s living room with pictures and shapes that a child would see.  It wasn't her as a child. This was clearly a very large split-level home...almost Victorian. She grew up in a tract home bungalow but it was a childhood nevertheless. She looked around for a second and tried to get her bearings.

Then the voice...

"How long can you hide Jarmin? You are still pathetically trapped in your meaningless existence."

It was a loud male voice that had an outrageous accent. However, she wasn't quite sure of it. Well she shouldn't worry too much about races and stereotypes. That was today’s lesson.

Well, not really, but there she was.

She paused. And realized if someone was hiding she probably should make herself visible.

"Hi! HI!!" she shouted, and then waved her hands.

"What?" demanded the voice.

'You captured me in this reality. Tried to lock me in a cage, Attacked me with ninjas – um, what’s going on here?"

"INSOLENCT WESTERN SCUM!!!”

"I don't get that a lot," Sarah said, "But thanks for the compliments."

A door opened. And out came a small man. Wearing a...what looked to be stereotypical...well, Asian clothing (Jesus Christ). She sighed. She really couldn't narrow it down more then that. God she was just the worst person today.

She saw in the door a small boy, standing in the corner turning his head to the wall. He looked vaguely familiar. Well, no matter. Because a huge-10 foot tall Doberman Pincer also climbed out. They normally looked very friendly...but this one...snarled like a wolf

"It’s not your demon American - but it will do I think.”

"No," said Sarah.

She then punched it in its face and it disintegrated.

"What is going?" said Sarah.

Out of a door came The Flame, wearing her street clothes.

"it’s no use,  shalk –  you can't fight both of us at once. Your can create your mental prisons, but you still need to use your own mind. You can't keep so many inside at once. You were never that good a jailor."

"But you’re a weak nothing!" said Shalk "A little...”

"Well, she is the strongest woman I know," said The Flame. "can you destroy him?"

And Sarah leaned in and punched Shalk so hard that the entire mental universe she was in collapsed.

*****

Sarah woke up on the floor outside the waiting room. Her nose hurt. She had fallen funny. Still, she got up and walked into the room.

She saw that the receptionist, a nurse, and her gynaecologist where all waking up in various rooms of the clinics. As she came into the main observation room she saw The Flame doing the same. And next to her the one identified as Shalk was unconscious.

"shalk is an old foe. an enemy from my past. he tracked me down, I suppose. thanks for your help in dealing with him. he’s quite powerful."

Flame’s voice had changed from normal human, to...well, The Flame’s. Sarah hadn't noticed it inside the dream. She wondered which of them was real and which was fake. Still, she just looked very small and vulnerable in her normal clothing. She was so small. Close-up she looked to be maybe 30 - but still, she had the aura of a child, yet there was something haunted about her.

"He attacked at your gynaecologists," said Sarah, "That’s pretty fucked up."

"where we’re vulnerable and human," observed The Flame, "smart move. i would have done it. and no regrets either. It’s what I am. i take people like him and punish them. but I am no better. not really."

Sarah looked at Flame. " You know - I didn't see your private...hell, I guess. not really, but...you can... "

Flame looked forward. "The world requires me to stay there. To be The Flame that guards it. An eternal vigilance. It’s who I am. The price I bear."

Then Ms Cindy Kramer, their gynaecologist, came in. "so what the fuck just happened?"

The Flame smiled. and talked in a normal voice.  "I think maybe there was a gas leak - this poor gentleman seems to have been effected more...maybe we should call him an ambulance."

"Who is he?" asked Cindy.

"I'm as much at a loss as you are, Dr. Kramer."

"Let’s all go see a doctor. I still feel loopy. It’s like someone talked in my head for the last 4 hours, all in Bhutanese. I mean...a doctor who isn't me. I mean...you know what I mean."

"Um...I  feel fine, but I came for a yeast infection/"

"Go buy some   Monistat,   Douche. And remember: Proper hygiene. If you let stuff fester inside of you it tends to break out into really nasty stuff."

Oh...that was the lesson!!! That was the lesson.

Sarah walked out. She then looked for a second more at Flame. Her eyes met hers, for a second they were human. Then  Sarah  looked down at Shalk. And they were something else. She wondered if the flame would learn it.

But, ehh, she remembered from biology if you didn't let things fester inside  your inestines wouldn't work and you would wither and die. So many be keeping the demons had value..and

She walked past the black receptionist and...

Oh, fuck...