Author note: To libertyginger for SeSa 2003: you asked for Chris/Justin, AU, unique, feathers, frogs, UST, geek, and blue hair. I hope this meets all of your requirements. Merry Christmas!

Superconnected
by Kittie

1. Golden Boy

It was his fourth audition. Justin sat quietly next to his mother, picking anxiously at the fuzz on his tights.

"If you keep picking at it, it will only get worse," his mother murmured, brushing her lips lightly across his golden curls. "Leave it alone, honey, no one can see it but you."

"They're fuzzy," he retorted half-heartedly, but he stopped picking because his Momma had told him to.

The tights were red. Bright, attention-grabbing red. The rest of the outfit was gold. His tunic, his breastplate, his leather slippers, even his head band. The only other spot of red was a crest on the breastplate that bore the Timberlake family symbol—a stylized T.

Justin hated it. Not the T, just the outfit. He wanted to be a superhero, not a sidekick. But his parents had decreed that their son would not be a full-fledged superhero until he was at least eighteen years of age, and had spent a minimum of two years learning the art of heroism at the feet of an experienced superperson. Hence, the sidekick auditions. And the fuzzy tights.

Justin pouted slightly, tapping one foot against the floor. He could so be a superhero. So what if he was only fifteen? He was tall for his age, and strong. Just the other day, he'd held the car up in the air for a good three seconds.

It was the curls, it had to be. No self-respecting super hero could fight crime with all of these perfect golden curls. He pulled at one of them and grimaced as it popped back into perfect alignment the moment he let it go. He didn't even have to look in a mirror to know it was perfect. It always was. That was one of his super powers.

He reached over his mother's lap to grab his portfolio and began flipping through it restlessly. He and his mother had already gone through it carefully, looking for mistakes or omissions, but one could never be too sure. He checked the power list.

Golden stare. Check.

Power of persuasion. Check. Too bad it didn't work on his parents.

Super strength—still developing.

He scowled at that. Did they have to put it right there on his resume, in black and white? It made him sound like a little kid. He decided to ask his mother one more time.

"Mom," he said, careful to keep the whine out of his voice, "can't we please take off this 'still developing' part? It's embarrassing."

Lynn Harless smiled fondly down at him and squeezed his hand. "Sorry, Justin, it's got to be said. Otherwise they might assume you're as strong as you're going to get—which isn't very, compared to a lot of the established heroes. You'll thank us for leaving it in one day, when you get a job you might not have, otherwise."

"But...." he stopped. It was an awfully good argument. "Well, can't we word it differently, at least?"

"I suppose we could," Lynn said slowly. "We'll have to think about how to word it so we're all happy with it, but I see no reason we can't compromise. Okay? After this audition, we'll give it another try."

"Okay." Justin sat back and closed the portfolio, satisfied with that answer. There was no way he was going to get this job, anyway. Enviroman was a notoriously picky hero, and word on the street was that he was reluctant to choose a new sidekick at all. He was much too attached to his former sidekick, Little Nicky. Everyone figured he'd retire before he willingly worked with someone else. Besides, Little Nicky would recover from his injuries eventually, and maybe he'd want his job back. Who could handle that kind of uncertainty?

"Number 82."

Justin stood as his number was called.

"Good luck, honey," his mother said quietly.

"Thanks," he responded, then strode to the open door of the audition room with a confidence he didn't quite feel. "I'm 82. Golden Boy."

"You are, indeed," Enviroman responded, dark green eyes looking him up and down slowly. "Have a seat."

Justin sat, and worked hard not to pick at his fuzzy tights.

~*~

Another sidekick audition. Justin sighed and stared up at the ceiling in disgust. At least his tights were brand new this time. No fuzz.

"Sit up straight, Justin," Lynn admonished him, keeping her voice low so as not to embarrass him in front of the other sidekick hopefuls. "I thought you wanted this."

He sat up, holding in a frustrated sigh. "I want to be a *superhero,* not a sidekick."

"You have to be a sidekick before you can be a superhero, hon. Think of it as a learning experience."

"Yeah." This time, he did sigh.

"Cheer up, kid," said a light tenor voice to his right. "Sidekicking's not as bad as it sounds."

Justin looked over, eyebrows flying up to his hairline when he saw the man who had spoken. He was small and stocky, his pale skin contrasting with the dark brown of his spiky hair and mischievous eyes. "Um...?"

The man grinned. "Hi, I'm Chris."

"I'm Just—Golden Boy."

"Hi, just Golden Boy. So how many of these things've you been to?" Chris leaned back and stretched his short, jean-clad legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankle. His ratty T-shirt, faded black with a goofy-looking cartoon frog on it, rode up to expose a hint of belly dusted with dark hairs. Justin looked away quickly.

"Oh, um... a lot. Ten, at least."

"That's not so many. I've been to hundreds. Thousands, maybe."

"No way," Justin scoffed. "Really?"

"Really and truly. They're all alike. I was there when Enviroman first picked Little Nicky. Were you even born then?"

"I was born!" Justin yelped indignantly, elbowing his mother lightly when she chuckled. "It was only like two years ago!"

"Almost exactly two years," Chris nodded sagely. "I knew the second Little Nicky walked into that room that he was the one. I think Enviroman did, too. When it's right, it's just right, ya know?"

"Um.... Sure." Justin didn't really know, but he didn't want to look like a moron, so he decided just to pretend he did. "So what's your superpower?"

"Sarcasm," Chris answered, winking. "And a razor-sharp wit."

"Um...."

"I know, right?" Chris leaned over the edge of the couch and picked up a mop, then stood to go. "That's probably why I'm a janitor and not a superhero. Good luck, kid! Nice meeting you."

Lynn began to laugh in earnest as her son stared after the whistling janitor with his mouth wide open.

~*~

Auditions, auditions, auditions. Justin had brought a magazine this time, to occupy his time. The big news of the week was Enviroman's decision to take a sabbatical from superheroing until Little Nicky was recovered and ready to rejoin him in the field. The magazine had a picture of Enviroman, tall, dark, and somber, his trademark black and green cape removed and draped over his arm. An old picture of Little Nicky, bright-eyed, blond, and grinning, was in a smaller box above a sidebar about his injuries.

Justin grimaced as he read about that. Little Nicky had taken an incredible beating. That was the worst thing about being a superhero or sidekick. Unless you were lucky enough to be invulnerable (or nearly so) your chances of being seriously injured on the job on any given day were over 80 percent. Justin was not invulnerable, nor did he have rapid healing powers. Those would come in handy.

"Shame about Enviroman, huh?"

"Oh, hi! Um... Chris."

Chris grinned at him and playfully shoved at his feet with the mop. "You remembered! And you're just Golden Boy. Kind of hard to forget you, with all the gold."

Justin nodded. "You're hard to forget too, with the mop and all."

Chris barked out a laugh. "Good one, kid. I like you." He sat down next to Justin and leaned across him to hold out a hand to Lynn. "I didn't catch your name, young lady. You must be the kid's baby sister."

Lynn laughed, rolling her eyes as she shook Chris' hand. "You know perfectly well I'm his mother, you rascal. Flattery will get you nowhere."

"Made you laugh, didn't I?" Chris put the mop down and stretched his legs out in front of him, once again crossing them at the ankles. "I know Enviroman, you know. Personally. I know what he looks like under that mask."

"You do not!" Justin gasped. "Nobody knows!"

"Sure they do. They just don't tell. He's a good guy, see, and nobody wants to blow his cover. That's the thing about superheroes. They could be absolutely anybody. Sidekicks are different. A lot of them have their faces uncovered, like you. Superheroes, though, that's too dangerous. You've got to protect yourself, so you wear a mask, or a lot of makeup, or whatever. But they're real people, too. They go grocery shopping and whatnot."

"Sidekicks do the grocery shopping," Justin disagreed. "And I think you're making that up."

Chris shrugged. "Okay. S'true, though. Anyway, I was only telling you because I saw Enviroman the other day. He told me he was quitting to wait for Little Nicky, but that he'd almost reconsidered when he met this one really special kid. 'The kid was wearing all gold,' he said, 'no way you could miss him. Even his curls were gold. He'll make someone a good sidekick one day.'"

Justin gaped at him. "Enviroman said that? About me?"

Chris nodded. "Yup."

"But.... All he said when I finished the audition was, 'thanks for coming, Lorraine will see you out.'"

"Yeah, he's formal like that," Chris acknowledged. "But he liked you. For reals." He stood slowly, groaning as he did so, using the mop as leverage. "Anyway, I've got to get back to work. There's some guy made of butter a couple rooms down, I kid you not. Makes my job hell. Catch you later, kid."

Justin watched Chris go. "A guy made of butter?" He looked doubtfully up at his mother. "He kind of lies a lot, doesn't he?"

Lynn just shrugged, smiling a bit.

Justin nearly swallowed his own tongue a few minutes later when a guy made of butter wandered in and sat down on one of the couches across the way.

~*~

"I saw the butter guy," Justin blurted the second he saw Chris.

"Oh, hey, just Golden Boy!" Chris mopped his way over to where Lynn and Justin were sitting. "How's it hangin'?"

"I didn't believe you," Justin continued, "about the butter guy, but then I saw him. How.... How can a guy be made of butter?"

"Who knows? Maybe some evil scientist got to him, or something. Evil scientists are pests, I tell you. My friend JC? An evil scientist turned him into a bluebird a few years ago. There was an antidote, of course. There always is. But JC still has wings."

Justin gaped at him.

"What? It's true. Big, pretty, bluish-purple wings. Too bad he makes a crappy superhero. Violence is against his religion."

"Hunh." Justin frowned up at Chris, trying to decide whether or not he was telling the truth. "You know what? I bet you'd make a good superhero."

Chris raised an eyebrow. "Golden Boy, you have looked at me, right? I'm kind of short and scrawny."

"Well, you don't have to be super tall, or anything," Justin hedged, deciding to ignore the "scrawny" part altogether. "And besides, half of superheroing is intellect, right? I bet you could talk circles around any supervillain out there!"

"That's a nice sentiment, kid," Chris said seriously, "but fast talk won't help when a supervillain's got a bazooka pointed your way, ya know? What's your power, anyway? Aside from the ability to blind people with all of that gold."

"Hey!" Justin looked down at himself. "Is it too bright? Mom, maybe that's why nobody ever calls me back for a second interview!"

Chris laughed. "No, kid, you're fine, I was just teasin' ya. Seriously, what's your power?"

Justin looked uncertainly at Lynn, who nodded encouragingly. "Well, I've got the Golden Stare. It's kind of like a laser, or something, that shoots out of my eyes. Then there's my Power of Persuasion. I can make people do stuff pretty easily, if I want. But I won't use it except in an emergency."

Chris nodded. "Good policy. Anything else?"

"Super strength. I can hold a car up for almost six seconds. Twice as long as last month!"

"Niiice." Chris whistled slowly. "Good to have more than one power. My buddy Average Joe's picked up a sidekick who's just got one superpower. A pretty lame one, too, if you ask me. Kid's a genius. Not like a normal genius, a super genius. I think Joe said the kid's IQ's like 515, or something, I dunno. He's so smart, he can move stuff just by thinking about it."

"That's just telekinesis. Doesn't that make it two powers?"

"No, smarty-pants. It's just that his brain is super powerful. It's all wrapped up in that."

Justin frowned. "Okay.... I guess."

"Trust me, kid. Anyway, Average Joe's pretty satisfied, so I guess things are working out. Weird kid, though. He's got these freaky green eyes...." Chris shuddered exaggeratedly. "Anyhoo, gotta go. People have started to notice me taking 'breaks' in here on a semi-regular basis."

"Oh, Chris, have we gotten you into trouble?" Lynn asked, frowning in concern.

"It's cool," Chris shrugged. "Don't worry your gorgeous head over it. Although you're adorable when you're worried about me."

Lynn chuckled as Chris sauntered off with a wink. Justin wrinkled his nose. He was the gorgeous one in their family.

~*~

"How do you know so many superheroes?" Justin asked Chris the next time he saw him.

"I work here, don't I?" Chris answered.

"Yeah...." Justin waited, but Chris didn't elaborate. "So?"

"So? So, how many superheroes do you think come through here every day? You've met almost twenty just doing these auditions, right?"

Justin nodded. "Yeah, but you're not auditioning. You're mopping."

"Golden Boy!" his mother yelped, mortified at his tactlessness.

But Chris just laughed. "True 'nuff. But there's a lot more than just auditions going on in this building. Superheroes are in and out of here all the time; getting licenses, going to therapy, stuff like that. And a lot of them go to the cafeteria downstairs to get lunch."

"Uh-huh?"

"Well, during my lunch break, I go to the cafeteria, pick a random table, and sit right on down. Superheroes are way too polite not to speak to you in a situation like that. So, I meet people."

"Like who?" Justin asked, impressed by Chris' nerve.

"Well, like Enviroman and Little Nicky, for one. Average Joe and The Geek, Sweet D and AJ...."

"Wow." Justin turned to his mother. "Can we eat in the cafeteria today, Mom?"

Chris laughed again. "Yeah, Mom, can we? I break for lunch at two."

Lynn sighed theatrically, her lips twitching with a suppressed smile. "Oh, I suppose so."

"Yay! Our first date!" Chris ruffled Justin's hair and danced away, waltzing out of the room with his mop as his partner.

Justin felt himself blushing and wasn't sure why.

~*~

At the next audition, the room was buzzing with barely suppressed excitement. The daily newspaper was in every hand, the front page story about The Trickster and his latest daring adventure being excerpted aloud in dozens of young, impressionable voices.

Justin, too, was devouring the story. The Trickster, now there was a superhero. "Look, Mom! He was undercover for four months! He was right there, in the middle of everything. Right here! In this building! I wonder if I saw him? I bet he walked right by me and I didn't even know!"

"Could be." Lynn smiled indulgently, amused at her son's childlike hero-worship.

"It says he brought down eighteen villains and two supervillains! All by himself! Man, I wish I could be his sidekick. I wonder if Chris knows him? I'm gonna ask him today."

But Chris never showed up that week, or the next one, or the one after that. After a while, Justin stopped looking for him.

~*~

2. Little Nicky

"I've decided to start a school."

Nick blinked at Kevin, narrowing his eyes when he noticed that the older man refused to meet his eyes. "Huh?"

"A school. For aspiring superheroes."

"Okay."

Kevin's fingers began to drum on the hospital bed. "I know you said you wanted me to find another sidekick and keep working, but I can't. I can't... function... without you. And you can't tell me you really want me to."

Kevin finally met his eyes, and Nick simply nodded, relieved. He didn't want Kev with anyone else, but it would have been selfish to tell him that. "You could work alone," he suggested, knowing how much Kevin loved his work.

But Kev rolled his eyes. "Who am I, The Trickster?"

Nick grinned. "No." He shifted his weight and flinched when it aggravated the soreness in his shattered legs. "So, this school. How's that gonna work?"

"Well, I've already gotten a place for it." Kevin relaxed, his face lightening with enthusiasm as he spoke. "Remember John Wright? That businessman we saved from—" Nick nodded. "Right. Well, he's agreed to let me use his mansion to house the school. It's large enough that we can house up to forty students and teachers without ever infringing on his space."

Nick's eyes widened. "Damn. We're in the wrong business."

Kevin snorted. "Right. And I've got teachers lined up already. There's me, of course, then Average Joe and The Geek, JC Chasez—"

"JC?" Nick wrinkled his nose. "He's not even a superhero!"

"No, but he's a good guy, and he understands our world. He'll be teaching the kids what superheroes mean to the people they protect. Sort of a theory and history class."

Nick looked at his mentor doubtfully. "Sounds... interesting?"

"Don't sound so enthusiastic. And I'm also trying to get Trick to teach."

"What in the world would The Trickster teach?"

"What he's best at," Kevin answered, shrugging.

"Lying?" Nick asked, smirking.

"Espionage. Spying. Detective work. The art of the disguise," Kevin answered. "But that's if I can get him to agree. It's looking doubtful."

"Why? He's always so weird when he finishes a job, I'd think he'd jump at the chance."

"So had I," Kevin said, looking thoughtful. "But I made the mistake of telling him the names of the students I had lined up. As it turns out, he has a... history... with one of them."

Nick lifted an eyebrow. "Do tell?"

Kevin rolled his eyes. "Not like that. He met this kid on the job. I told you about him, Golden Boy?"

Nick made a face. "Oh. Him."

Kevin smiled gently at him. "Yes, him. And it was your reaction to hearing about him that cemented my decision not to take on a new sidekick and stay on the field." Nick blushed. "Anyway, Trick met the kid while he was undercover, and they got along well. Very well."

Nick's eyes widened. "Very well?"

"Mmm-hmm. And Trick, true to form, is running scared. As soon as the job was over, he bolted. Didn't say goodbye to the kid, either as Chris or Trickster. Just shed the disguise and left."

Nick frowned disapprovingly. "Why's he fight it so hard, anyway?"

"You know why." Kevin's eyes drifted down to Nick's useless legs. "He's... It's easier, not to let anyone in."

Nick placed a hand over Kevin's, squeezing it in apology. Kevin managed a slight smile. "So," Nick said with forced lightness. "What's this school of yours going to be called?"

Kevin looked blankly at him. "Enviroman's School for Aspiring Sidekicks and Superheroes?"

Nick rolled his eyes. "How original."

Kevin made an aborted gesture as if to smack him, then paled and dropped his hand back to his lap. Nick sighed. The guilt thing was getting really old.

~*~

"And this is the exercise room. Johnny said we could use it when it came time for your physical therapy."

Nick stared at the large room in awe. "Damn, I knew this guy was loaded, but this is.... Wow."

Kevin had taken him straight to John Wright's mansion upon his release from the hospital, insisting that the businessman had said it was fine that he live there along with the rest of the students and teachers. His room was on the ground floor in deference to his dependence on a wheelchair, and Kevin's room was, conveniently enough, right next door. The rest of the students and teachers had rooms in another wing of the mansion.

"Wow, indeed," Kevin agreed.

Kevin was in full dress uniform, complete with mask and cape. He never took them off except in the privacy or his own or Nick's rooms, and even then, only when he was sure the doors were locked. Kevin guarded his privacy fiercely even here, among friends and colleagues. Not that all of the teachers didn't already know him, but the students didn't. Nick wasn't sure why Kevin refused to let them see his private face, but he assumed Kev had a good reason. Or at least a logical one.

Nick didn't bother with his uniform. He had always left his face showing anyway, which had been a mistake. Should have listened to Kevin on that one, he grimaced. Without a mask to hide his private face, he'd been fair game when those villains had decided to jump him on his way back from the grocery store. Thankfully, Kevin had never said "I told you so."

Kevin was the only teacher who remained in uniform all the time. Average Joe and The Geek wore civilian clothes, though The Geek refused to tell anyone his true name. Joe just insisted that Joe was his true name, and they all left it at that. No last names, though, for any of them. Nick didn't even know Kevin's last name, and Kevin didn't know his. It was just safer that way.

As Kevin had predicted, Trickster had decisively declined the invitation to teach. Kevin was still trying to get him to agree to at least a guest lecture or two, further into the school year.

"When you're well enough," Kevin said, breaking into his thoughts, "you can join me in teaching my class. I've been telling them about the superhero-sidekick relationship, and about partnership and teamwork. Your input would be appreciated."

"Sure," Nick agreed absently, eyeing the video game machine in the corner with interest. "Hey, is that pinball?"

He could almost hear Kevin's eyes roll as he wheeled him over.

~*~

Staying at the Compound during school hours was lonely. With Kevin gone to teach classes and do... whatever it was Kevin did during the day, Nick was left to amuse himself. He had a nice-sized TV, plenty of DVDs and videos, CDs, a Playstation, and books galore, but he had always been a social person and found the solitude difficult to bear. At least in the hospital, there had been nurses coming around every now and again. So it came as a welcome surprise when one of the students blundered into his wing of the mansion one Tuesday afternoon.

Nick had been reading a science fiction novel when a flash of gold outside the room caught his eye. He looked up, unsure that he'd seen anything, then called out, "Hey! Who's there?"

There was no answer, and Nick shrugged and was about to go back to his book when a young man appeared uncertainly in the doorway. Nick stared. This had to be Golden Boy. His costume was... bright. "Um...." he said. "Hi."

The kid shuffled his feet. "Hi. Um.... I got lost."

Nick grinned. "Yeah. Big place. You're Golden Boy, right?"

The kid looked surprised. "Yeah?"

"Enviroman told me all about you." Years of practice made it easy to refer to Kevin by his superhero name in front of others. He didn't even have to think about it anymore. "You made quite an impression." He mock-glowered at the kid. "Tried to take my job."

The kid's eyes widened. "No! I mean, yes, but—"

Nick laughed outright. "Don't look so scared! I was only kidding. You coming in, or not?"

The kid hesitated, but finally stepped inside, his eyes taking in the clutter around the room. "I was trying to find the gym. It's in this wing, isn't it?"

"Yup," Nick nodded. "Down this hall about five doors, turn left, down another six, turn right, second door on the left."

"Oh. Um.... What?"

"Exactly. Get Enviroman to take you. This place is too damn big."

Golden Boy smiled uncertainly. "It's nice, though."

"Sure is. I want one just like it when I grow up." Golden Boy was picking at the lint on his red tights. "So, Golden Boy. How do you like the school so far?"

Golden Boy looked up, his face lighting up with enthusiasm. "It's great! It would have been nice to get picked as somebody's sidekick, but this way I get to learn from two superheroes instead of just one, and another sidekick. And Enviroman said The Trickster might come later to lecture us! That'd be great."

"Trickster?" Nick tried to stifle a smile. Kev had been right, there was definitely something brewing between these two. "Oh yeah, he's the best at what he does. Hard guy to pin down, though."

"I bet my friend Chris knew him," Golden Boy said. "Hey, you know Chris, right? He said he knew you."

"Oh, sure, the, um...." Nick wracked his brain, trying to remember what Trickster's disguise had been during that last job. "Janitor at the Justice building, right? He mentioned you."

"Yeah! You do know him!"

Nick inwardly sighed in relief. The last thing he wasted to do was blow Trickster's cover, even if the job was over. "Yup. Known him for a while."

"Does he know The Trickster?"

"Chris knows everybody," Nick answered truthfully.

"Yeah, it seemed like it." Golden Boy frowned and picked at his tights some more. "He left, though, I don't know where he went. He just didn't come back."

"Oh, um.... He had a family emergency, back home," Nick said, making something up quickly. "He had to leave town suddenly."

Golden Boy looked concerned. "Is everything okay?"

"I think so, yeah. Don't worry about Chris, he can take care of himself."

"Yeah." Golden Boy sighed. "Maybe he'll be back sometime."

Nick made a mental note to talk to Kevin about this. These two were obviously already connected, and considering the short time they'd known each other, theirs would be a very powerful partnership, indeed. If Trickster would only pull his blue-haired head out of his ass, they would do great things.

"Hey, GB," he said, smirking as the kid's eyebrows lifted at the nickname, "come play a video game with me, I'm bored."

~*~

"So," Nick said casually, taking a bite of his pork chop. "Talked to Trick lately?"

Kevin raised an eyebrow, fork halfway to his mouth. "That was not subtle in the least. What's going on?"

Nick laughed. "Golden Boy wandered into our wing today, looking for the gym. We hung out for a bit. They're meant to be together, Kev, the connection was... palpable. Trick was all the kid talked about! The Trickster this, and Chris that. Every other sentence. I don't think he even knows what he's feeling."

Kevin frowned. "No, he probably doesn't. I wasn't planning on covering the Connection until later in the semester. Do you think I should move it up in the curriculum?"

Nick stared wide-eyed at him. "Wow. Professor Kevin." Kevin threw a pea at him and he swatted it away, laughing. "I dunno, man. Has Trick agreed to come, yet?"

"It's only been a few weeks, Nick."

"So, no, then."

Kevin sighed. "No."

"We have got to get these two together. Tell you what, let me talk to him."

"What makes you think you can convince Trick to come when I've been working on him for weeks?"

Nick smiled. "I have my ways."

~*~

Trickster was a hard man to get in touch with. He didn't have a home phone number, and his cell and pager numbers changed almost weekly. Not to mention the numerous passwords one had to remember to get through. But Nick finally managed it. The Geek really was a remarkable young man. Nick hadn't even known the Internet was so useful.

"What?" Trick answered after the fourteenth ring.

"Hey, Trick, how's it hangin'?"

"Nicky?" Trickster paused, then laughed slightly. "Nicky, how are ya? Healing up well?"

"Sure, sure. Enviroman's taking good care of me."

Trickster chuckled. "I'm sure he is. Still haven't thought of a nickname for him, huh?"

"It's difficult," Nick admitted. "Nothing really works. 'En' is just stupid. 'Vi' sounds like a girl. 'Ro' he hates, and 'Man,' well...."

"Hmmm." Trickster agreed. "Still."

"Yeah. Anyway, he tells me you won't come and lecture his students."

Trickster sighed. "Oh for the love of Pete. Not you, too."

"Come on, man, the kids would love you! They talk about you all the time, especially Golden Boy. You're like his idol."

Trickster was silent.

"You remember Golden Boy, right? Of course you do, how could you forget? The kid's so shiny a blind man could see him. One of the other students has been working with him to try to find a costume that's not so... garish. Anyway, he's really excited to think that you might be coming. Talks about you all the time."

Trickster cleared his throat. "Does he?"

"Yup. And by the way, you're a jerk."

"Excuse me?"

"He's worried about you, you moron! Or about Chris, anyway, who simply vanished into thin air one day and never showed up again. I had to make up some story about a family emergency. Write the kid a letter, at least!"

"Oh. Yes, well...."

"Yes, well." Nick kept his tone carefully nonchalant as he changed the subject. "Hey, you remember that time in Germany? With the girl and the rabbit?"

Trickster was quiet for a long moment. "Yes...?"

"I won't tell anyone if you come and lecture."

Another long silence. Then, "You suck." And a dial tone.

Nick grinned. "I am still the master."

~*~

3. The Trickster

"So he says to me, I've decided to become a superhero," Average Joe said animatedly, talking with his hands, as usual. The Geek dodged a stray gesture every few seconds, their partnership so solid and in tune that he didn't even have to look in Average Joe's direction to know he was about to be smacked. "And I said, 'You? A superhero? Since when?'

'Since now,' he says, and he's got that look on his face, you know the one. That peaceful, all-knowing half-smile."

The Trickster nodded. He knew the one.

"'Okay, then,' I said, 'what's your superhero name?'

'Bibleman,' he says."

Trickster raised an eyebrow. "Bibleman?"

"Yup." Average Joe nodded, grinning. "So I started laughing. Of course, I started laughing. 'Bibleman?' I says. 'What're you gonna do, quote scripture at the baddies until they fall asleep from boredom?'"

The Geek cringed. "Oh, Joe."

Average Joe just laughed, slapping one large hand on the table so hard, the ketchup bottle rattled and fell over. "I know! And apparently, the man upstairs agreed. Out of nowhere, this lightning bolt comes and fries me. Out of nowhere. I'm telling you, there wasn't a cloud in the sky."

"The man upstairs?!" The Geek stared incredulously at his partner, then not-so-subtly scooted his chair away from Joe's.

Average Joe shrugged. "He hasn't fried me for that yet. So anyway, Brian—Bibleman—he looks up at the sky and says, 'Thank you, sir.'"

"Just like Brian," Trickster commented, fiddling with the salt and pepper shakers. Average Joe and The Geek exchanged concerned looks. Trickster pretended not to notice. "So, how's he doing? Foiled any supervillain plots yet?"

"That's the weird thing," Average Joe admitted. "I don't think he actually fights any crime. He's against violence, you know. I'm kind of scared for him, really."

"Actually," The Geek commented, taking a sip of his iced tea, "I don't think he's fighting the same sorts of battles we are. Think about it, Joe. He won a battle with you that day, didn't he? He got you actively thinking about 'the man upstairs,' as you insist on calling him. Maybe those are the kinds of battles his boss wants him to win."

Trickster stared at The Geek for a long moment. "Joe, your sidekick is uncanny."

Average Joe put an arm around the younger man, grinning proudly. "I know, right?" The Geek blushed.

"So, Trick, what's next for the man of the hour, anyway?" Average Joe motioned to the waitress for another orange juice.

Trickster snorted rudely. "Man of the hour."

"You are, man. Everybody's still talking about you. And every waitress in this place is eyeing you like you're a big old slab of prime beef."

"And half the waiters, too," The Geek added.

"Eh." Trickster shrugged, reaching up to readjust his blue half-mask where it had slipped a bit. "I dunno. I'm thinking of taking Enviroman up on that offer to lecture at that school of yours."

"Yeah?" Joe's face lit up. "That'd be great, man, the kids'd love to meet you. I'd wondered why you suddenly showed up in our neck of the woods."

"Well, I'm taking a break, you know? Trying to regroup."

"You? A break?" Average Joe scoffed. "You can't take a break, you get bored way too easily."

"And from what I hear, a bored Trickster is not a good thing," Geek added.

Trickster glared at his old friend. "You been telling this kid stories, Joe?"

"Nothin' that wasn't true. I don't lie, remember?"

"An annoying affectation."

"A good, all-American, average habit."

"Ain't nothin' about you that's average, Joe."

"But I am! Average Joe!"

The Geek rolled his eyes. "Listen, Trickster, I think lecturing at the school would be good for you. If Joe's stories are true—"

"They are!"

The Geek ignored the interruption. "—then you can't sit around doing nothing for any amount of time. Lecturing at the school will keep you from being idle, at the very least."

"Yeah," Joe agreed. "So think about it, alright? Come to the school, at least see the place."

"Yeah." Trickster absently twirled a salt shaker between his fingers. "Okay."

~*~

Trickster walked onto the school grounds in full disguise. No one gave him a second glance, not even Enviroman. None of his friends were aware that he could disappear this completely when he wanted to. At least, he didn't think they knew.

It was a nice place. Big. He'd wondered why Joe and The Geek had been calling it "The Compound," but upon seeing the place, it made sense. It was as well-guarded as a fortress. If he hadn't been such an expert at not being noticed, he never would have made it past the front gates. He made a mental note to find out who John Wright used as security and add them to his list of contacts.

He wandered through the mansion, memorizing its layout and making a mental map of all of the doors, windows, and other vulnerabilities. Much to his surprise and pleasure, he found that The Compound lived up to his name. It was extremely well-built, and he only located two weak spots, both easily fixable. In addition, all of the doors and windows were within sight of at least one guard at all times. This John Wright person was obviously almost as paranoid as he was.

His reconnaissance completed, he doubled back to one of the classrooms and snuck in to watch the class. The students were a mixed bag—some were obviously more advanced than others. Pink and X, in particular, seemed highly competent. Lil' Bit and The Gosling, however, were too timid for his tastes, plus they had stupid names. Nelly was somewhere in the middle. He tried for confidence and arrogance, but Trickster could easily see the underlying fear and insecurity. He wondered briefly what was causing them. He tried very hard not to think about Golden Boy at all. He'd grown since Trickster had last seen him, and had developed some more muscle. Some of the baby fat was gone from his face, and he was beginning to grow into his nose. Trickster wrenched his eyes away, feeling like a dirty old man.

JC was a surprisingly competent teacher, considering his tendency to ramble. He managed to keep the kids interested even though his subject was more theory than action. The wings didn't hurt, Trickster smirked, nor did JC's chiseled good looks. The girls, in particular, watched him almost without blinking. As did The Gosling. Hmmm.

JC dismissed the class at just a moment after 2:00 pm. The kids stood and left leisurely, talking amongst themselves. Lil' Bit stayed behind speaking quietly to JC, nodding earnestly at whatever he was saying. Trickster, for once, didn't bother to eavesdrop. He was too busy staring at Golden Boy, who for some reason had halted just inside the doorway, looking around in puzzlement.

"You okay, dawg?" Nelly asked him, sounding concerned.

Trickster held his breath as Golden Boy looked right at him. "I.... I thought...." Then he shook his head and turned away. "Never mind. I must have been imagining things. Let's go, I'm starving."

Trickster sighed in relief as the two left the classroom, Nelly teasing Golden Boy about his bottomless stomach. No one had ever come so close to seeing him before, when he didn't want to be seen.

Lil' Bit finished with JC and left, a tiny smile on her face. Trickster waited until she was well on her way down the hall and JC was preoccupied with cleaning up his desk before making his presence known. "Hey, 'C."

JC startled. "Trickster!" He hurried to the back of the classroom and engulfed Trickster in a hug. "You came!"

"I did, indeed." Trickster hugged him back, scratching the large bluish-purple wings with his fingertips as he knew JC liked. "I was coerced."

"No one can coerce you," JC disagreed, wings arching at the touch. "Are you going to teach?"

"Not exactly." Trickster ended the hug and stepped back a bit as he answered. JC could be a bit of a close-talker, if you let him. "I'll be doing a few lectures, though." He paused. "Of course, Enviroman doesn't know that, yet."

JC laughed. "I can't wait! I can come, right?"

Trickster rolled his eyes. "Yes, JC, you can come."

"Cool, dude! So, have you met anyone, yet?"

"If you mean the students, no." Trickster turned and started out of the classroom, trusting that JC would follow. "Tell me about them?" He had formed his own opinions already, but JC's people-sense was top-knotch, and it would be enlightening to hear his impressions.

"Well, there's six of them," JC began, willingly following as Trickster led the way out of the mansion and toward the large lake out back. He didn't question how Trickster knew the way. "Lil' Bit, Nelly, Pink, X, The Gosling, and Golden Boy. They're all great kids, and I think they'll make great heroes one day.

"Lil' Bit can manipulate light. It's awesome, dude. She like, sucked all of the light out of the room and into her body, then let it back out after a couple of seconds. And she can shoot lasers, too, she says, but she didn't demonstrate that part. She's a little... quiet... but I think with time she'll blossom."

Trickster nodded. The girl probably just needed to gain her confidence. One of her biggest assets might end up being the fact that she would be easy to underestimate—a mistake the villains would only make for so long before her reputation had time to build.

"Pink is awesome," JC continued as they stepped out into the sunlight. "She's got super strength and healing, and she's really sharp, too. No confidence problems there, man, she knows exactly where it's at. Same with X. She's a shapeshifter."

Trickster hmmed thoughtfully. He had some shapeshifting powers of his own, in a way. When he was undercover, no one could ever describe him accurately after they saw him. Sometimes everyone who laid eyes on him saw him differently, or maybe they simply couldn't remember a thing about him. He wondered if Golden Boy would be able to describe Chris, if asked.

"The Gosling...." JC frowned slightly, shaking his head. "I feel bad for him." They reached the lakeshore and took seats at the trunk of a large tree, leaning their backs against it. "He comes from a superhero family. His mother's The Goose, his father's The Gander." Trickster grimaced. "Exactly. He doesn't really know what he wants to do with himself, and he hates his name. But he does have potential, he just needs to find his way on his own, out from under his parents' shadows. I think maybe Average Joe might be able to help him. You know he always seems oblivious, but he sees a lot."

"He does, yes," Trickster agreed. Average Joe was many things, but stupid was not one of them. "What's his superpower?"

"Super sight and hearing," JC answered. "And he can fly, which is awesome. I wish I could fly, but alas," he shrugged his wings. "These are merely decorative."

"Alas," Trickster echoed, smiling fondly at his friend and scratching said wings again.

JC's eyes fluttered closed. "Mmmm, thanks. Feels good."

"I swear, you're like a puppy. Keep going, what about the last two?"

"Okay, okay. Nelly has super speed, and he's awesome at code-breaking and lock-picking, too, though I don't know if those are superpowers or just skills. Either way, you should definitely talk to him one-on-one sometime about the spying business."

"I don't spy," Trickster protested indignantly. "I investigate."

JC snorted. "Whatever, dude. You spy. Admit it."

"I admit nothing."

"You wouldn't be much of a spy if you did. The last student is Golden Boy." JC watched him carefully, so Trickster kept his face carefully neutral. "You've met him before."

"Yes."

"He's a fast learner, and he's got some skills. Super strength, power of persuasion, and what he calls 'The Golden Stare,' which as far as I can figure, is like a laser power. He talks about you a lot."

"Does he?"

JC, infuriatingly, was still staring at him. "Yes. But I have a feeling you knew that."

Trickster stood and turned back toward the school. "Thanks for that, JC, I appreciate your insight. I'd better go find Enviroman and let him know I'm here." He started walking back, ignoring JC's frustrated sigh behind him.

Why had he ever stopped to talk to Golden Boy in the first place? He worked alone, always had.

He ignored the nagging voice in his head that wondered if maybe it was time for that to change.

~*~

"Quiet, everyone, quiet! May I have your attention, please?"

Trickster waited quietly outside the door of the classroom where his first lecture was to he held and listened as Enviroman tried to calm to students down. They had all been talking and laughing excitedly ever since they'd entered the room, waiting for the great Trickster to make his appearance. Trickster rolled his eyes. Sometimes, being famous could be really annoying.

"Thank you," Enviroman said as the noise level finally faded to a buzz. "You all know why we're here, and I'm assuming that's why you're all acting like three-year-olds." The room rippled with nervous and embarrassed laughter. Trickster smirked to himself. Good old Enviroman. He could always be counted on to cut to the chase. "In any case, our guest is waiting outside to make his grand entrance, so I'll make this short. He's known, fittingly, as The Trickster. No one has ever seen his true face; it's rumored that not even his mother knows what he really looks like."

Trickster rolled his eyes at that. Of course his mother knew what he really looked like! Did they think he'd popped out of the womb already in disguise?

"He is an expert at the art of disguise, and at knowing things that he has no reason to know. He is notoriously brilliant, a wicked ping-pong player—" Trickster snorted. "—and a spy whose skills know no rival. Please join me in welcoming The Trickster!"

The classroom erupted into loud clapping and cheers. Trickster sighed and strolled in, shooting Enviroman a halfhearted glare. Annoyingly, Enviroman just grinned back at him.

Trickster stood at the front of the room and let them get their excitement out of their systems, using the opportunity, as always, to observe. Every one of the students was excited to see him, and even the teachers, for some reason, seemed in awe. He assumed it was because he was wearing his full aura. He usually turned that off when he was just with friends. He spared a quick smile for Little Nicky, who was in a wheelchair off to the side of the room. Nicky gave him a grin and a thumbs-up.

"Alright," Trickster finally said, "That's quite enough of that."

The clapping stopped almost immediately. He blinked in surprise.

"Right, then. Well, as Enviroman said, I'm The Trickster. I'll be doing a couple of these lectures, so I'm going to use this one as sort of an introduction. I know who all of you are, already. I wouldn't be myself, if I didn't. Some of that knowledge comes from asking other people. As disappointing as that may be, not all good information is obtained by covert means."

The class chuckled obediently.

"I also learned a lot through observation. How many of you were aware that I've been here, at the school, for over a week? Watching you?"

The class broke out in nervous whispers.

"No one? Good. If you had known, it would mean that I was losing my touch. At any rate, I'd like to do a little demonstration right now about the power of observation. When you work in the detecting business, or spying business, as some people insist on calling it—" he mock-glared at JC, who grinned back happily, "you rely a lot of observation. You must be able to see absolutely everything around you, memorize it, categorize it, absorb it, and be able to recall it later on if it proves to be important. Some people are better at this than others; not everyone is cut out for that aspect of the superheroing business. Our very own Average Joe, for example, wouldn't know a clue unless it smacked him in the head and yelled 'Hey! I'm a clue!' And even then, he might need some persuasion."

The students all gasped in shock and looked to Average Joe, perhaps expecting anger, but Joe just grinned and nodded. "Yup. That's me, alright."

"The Geek, on the other hand," Trickster continued as if he hadn't been interrupted, "Sees a lot more than you might think, and it's all there in that cavernous brain of his, waiting for the opportunity to be used. That's one of the reasons they're a good team. They complement one another's skills and weaknesses."

Trickster straightened up and let his eyes move across the classroom, considering. "Okay, time for a little demonstration. I want four people to hold up objects—something you've got close by, but that has not been visible until now. Maybe you've had it in a pocket, or a bag."

The class began to shuffle as people started looking for objects. "Alright," Trickster said quickly, "Geek, Nelly, Pink, and Nicky, I see you're all ready with objects. I want the four of you to hold them up over your heads for exactly four seconds, all at the same time. Ready? Go."

He let his eyes sweep over each of the objects, lingering for exactly one second each. "Time," Enviroman called.

"Thank you," Trickster nodded, as his four volunteers put away their objects. "I'll start with The Geek. You held up a textbook, approximately 1.5 inches thick, titled 'Insects of the Amazon,' compiled and edited by Arthur S. Mobley. It featured a panoramic photograph of an insect I was unable to identify, though it was a light green color and kind of looked like a praying mantis, sitting on a bright orange flower. The background of the photo was full of, I'm guessing, Amazonian plant life, mostly brightly colored flowers in reds, yellows, and oranges. The type was a slightly yellowish white, block text, with a black drop shadow behind it, four millimeters to the right and down. That's about all I caught. Would you hold the book up again, please, so everyone can see it?"

The class was still with silent awe as The Geek held up the book once more. It was, unsurprisingly, exactly as Trick had described it. He did the same with the other three objects—a book of matches from a local club, a golden brooch, and a small stuffed bunny. He glared at Nicky for that one, promising later retribution.

"So," he concluded, "As you can see, I've got the act of observation down to an art form. I looked at each of those objects for just one second, but I was able to absorb and process the information my eyes were giving me. That's the trick with observation. It's not the act of seeing, but the act of processing that's important."

The students nodded, whispering to one another excitedly.

"Don't worry, I'll go into greater detail on that some other time. Next, I'd like to do another demonstration. This will be easy, I just want you guys to look at me, and then describe me. We'll go one at a time, starting with Little Nicky over there in the corner. Say one thing about me, and then move on to the next person, who will say one more thing, and so on, and so forth. I'll be standing right here, you won't have to remember anything. Okay? Go."

"Black hair with blue tips," Nicky started them off.

"Black jumpsuit, blue frog on the chest," Average Joe continued.

"Blue half-mask," The Geek contributed.

And so on, and so forth, around the room. By the time everyone had spoken, they'd pretty much gotten everything, including his slightly pointy ears, he noted ruefully. "Alright, good. Easy, right?" They all nodded. "Now, here's the hard part." He quickly shifted into a "chameleon" disguise, noting their gasps as he did it. JC had once told him that it made him dizzy to watch the transformation. It was as if Trickster's whole body blurred out and then became something else. "Okay, describe me now. Nicky."

"Blonde hair, shoulder length."

Several of the students let out shocked gasps. "What?" Nelly yelped. "He's got brown hair, and it's short!"

"No, red!" Lil' Bit disagreed. "Still spiky."

Trickster smiled to himself as the classroom dissolved into chaos. He simply leaned back against the desk and crossed his arms, smirking at them. His smirk vanished when he saw Golden Boy sitting quietly, his face somewhat pale, giving him an unreadable stare. He straightened, suddenly uncomfortable, and hastily shifted back into his Trickster disguise. "Okay, okay, quiet down. Enough!"

The noise took longer to die down this time, but it did, soon enough. "You're all correct. I have the ability to appear to everyone who sees me as someone different. Any one person will always see me the same way. If I were to shift back now—" he did so, briefly, "You would all see exactly what you saw before, correct?" A few nods. "Right. But you each saw a completely different person. Next demo," he continued, speaking right over their confused murmurs. "I'm going to shift again. This time, you're going to observe me for a good minute, just stare, I won't mind. Try to memorize everything about me. Then, when Enviroman calls time, I'll duck behind the desk and you have to describe me from memory. No note-taking, that's cheating. Alright? You can start us off, Enviroman."

Enviroman nodded, sharp green eyes on the clock. "Okay.... Go."

Trickster shifted immediately, then stood absolutely still, letting the students and teachers have a good look at him. It wasn't as hard as it once had been, standing still. He could be completely motionless for hours if he really wanted to, though he rarely did. Being still went against his nature, so he avoided it whenever possible. One time, though, he'd gone undercover as a statue. That had been horrible. He still had nightmares about it.

Enviroman finally called time, and Trickster ducked beneath the desk. "Okay, describe me," he called out.

Dead silence.

"Um...." Average Joe tried.

"You had.... No, wait." That was X.

"I think he was thin? Or maybe not. Tall? No...." Pink.

Trickster waited a few more moments, but no one could describe him. He started to stand, smiling triumphantly. Then Golden Boy spoke.

"Short and stocky, dark brown hair, slightly crooked nose, pointy ears, goatee, black tee-shirt with a cartoon frog on it, faded blue jeans. And a mop."

Trickster froze, still crouched behind the desk. The classroom was absolutely silent in the wake of Golden Boy's words. Trickster finally stood slowly, feeling numb. Golden Boy was standing, his fingers clutching the edges of his desk so hard that the knuckles were turning white.

"Chris," he whispered, looking hurt and betrayed. "It was you all the time."

Trickster swallowed hard, feeling trapped. "I...."

Golden Boy let go of the desk and stepped forward, speaking again. "It was you, in JC's classroom. I thought there was someone there, but my eyes kept trying to slide away. And for the past week, I've felt like something was off. Like I was missing something." He stepped ever closer, and Trickster's chest tightened. He was having trouble breathing. "You asked what we all saw, before. I saw you. The same thing I see now, I saw then. But it was blurry, mixed with something else. Two people in one. I could tell you what you wanted me to see. You wanted me to see a tall, skinny blonde with dreadlocks and an eyebrow piercing. But you were underneath that illusion the whole time."

Trickster took an involuntary step back as Golden Boy reached the desk, close enough to touch. "You.... You're fifteen!" he yelped, only vaguely aware of the rest of the class watching in rapt attention.

"Sixteen," Golden Boy corrected him. "My birthday was last month."

Trickster gulped. "Happy Birthday."

"Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you.... I thought we were friends."

"We saw each other once a week! Maybe six times!" He was desperate now, feeling the walls closing in on him.

"Seven times. And it was enough," Golden Boy answered simply. "Don't you feel this, between us? Enviroman's been teaching us about the Connection. We have it, you and me. It's already started, why are you fighting it?"

"It.... It's a bad idea. I work alone." The excuse sounded lame, now. "You're too young. You don't know... anything."

Golden Boy took one more step, cornering him against the desk and placing one long-fingered hand on his shoulder. "So teach me," he whispered.

Trickster was lost.

~*~

4. Epilogue

Nick smiled to himself as he looked around the room from his seat on the couch. Pink and X had become notorious for throwing amazing parties, and this one was no exception. Even Kevin had loosened up a little, and was sharing a dance with Lil' Bit.

The birthday boy was nowhere to be seen, but then again, neither was Trickster. Nick smirked. Maybe they were finally up to no good. Golden Boy had waited with ill grace and little patience for his eighteenth birthday, since Trickster absolutely refused to touch him until then. Nick had a feeling that Trickster had been alternately anticipating and dreading this day for the past two years.

"Lost in thought again?" Kevin asked, sinking down onto the couch next to him.

Nick grinned at him, "Wondering where Trick and GB got off to. They seem to have vanished."

"Hmmm." Kevin looked around slowly, a tiny smile playing on his lips. "You're right. You think Golden Boy finally snagged him?"

"Snagged, shagged, same diff," Nick shrugged, laughing when Kevin smacked him.

The two in question chose that moment to finally rejoin the party. Trickster's face was a dull red, his spiky hair in even more disarray than usual and his clothes a bit rumpled. Golden Boy's curls and new black jumpsuit with gold crest were perfect, as always, but a tiny smile played on the corners of his lips, and he moved with a swagger he had not possessed before. Nick's grin widened. "Yup. Snagged him but good, I'd say."

Trickster met his eyes and flushed even darker when Nick gave him a thumbs-up quickly followed by a pair of bunny ears behind his head. Kevin smacked him again. "Come on, Kaos, stop teasing Trick and come dance with me."

Nick stood, feeling as always a warm rush of affection whenever Kevin called him by his new name. Little Nicky was long gone, and though Enviroman had not gotten his sidekick back, he had gained a new partner. "Alright, one dance. Try not to trample my feet this time."

Kevin snorted. "You're the one who needs to watch your feet. I am a paragon of class and grace."

"Right." Nelly, acting as DJ, started up a slow song, and Golden Boy dragged Trickster onto the dance floor with them. The others began to couple up as well, a newly confident Lil' Bit snagging a blushing JC while Pink accosted The Geek and X took care of Average Joe. The Gosling seemed content to sit with Nelly on the sidelines, laughing at them all.

"You know, Enviroman," Nick mused, resting his head on his partner's shoulder, "this school turned out to be a great idea. I bet you anything that all of these kids are gonna go on to do great things, and Trickster will be more effective than ever with GB on his back. Err... at his back."

"Indeed," Kevin agreed, completely ignoring the deliberate innuendo. "But then, I have always been known for my great ideas."

Nick shut him up with a kiss.

End

Email: kittie.verdena@gmail.com