The rhythm of the surf and the squawking of the gulls managed to get a sigh out of a cranky son of a bitch like Soldier Boy. He sat on the end of Pier 36, his bare feet hanging over the edge. It wasn't often he had a chance to slow down and take in the moment, so he tried to make the most of it when he could. He would have sat there all afternoon if he hadn't heard the rumble of the hypercycle pulling up behind him.

Stone glided up to a stop and left his bike a few meters short of the pier's edge.  He stretched his torso a couple of times after dismounting.

"You rang?" he said as he sidled up next to the man and stood staring out through shaded eyes at the ocean.

"Hey, Easy Rider," Soldier Boy said with a wave. "Take a load off. Enjoy the day."

With a nod, Stone walked back the couple of meters to his bike and removed his jacket.  He hung it on the back of the seat leaving himself in a black t-shirt with a big gaudy neon yellow and pink South of the Border truck stop logo across his back.  When he returned to the end of the pier he sat down a few feet over from Soldier Boy and resumed his ocean gazing.

"Don't suppose you brought beer." Soldier Boy laughed. "I wasn't exactly plannin' ahead."

Stone replied by taking out his smokes and offering the open pack.  Soldier Boy waved him off. "Thanks but they just make my breath nasty."

A fishing boat bobbed by and Soldier Boy watched it pass. "So, this bike club of yours, any of those kids really learning how to ride?"

"Bet your ass," Stone replied with a nod before a flick of his thumb sparked a flame from his lighter.  He lit the cigarette in his mouth and then snapped the lighter shut and put it in his jeans pocket.

"What about Heatwave? I'd expect her to ride like a little old lady." Soldier Boy furrowed his brow and tried to remember the last time he saw a little old lady riding a bike. Then he shrugged it off. Wouldn't be the first time he said something that didn't make sense.

"Yeah," Stone demurred in acknowledgement of Heatwave's shortcomings, looking down at the waves lapping the thick wooden posts and spitting a bit of tobacco off his tonuge. 

But then he looked over at Soldier Boy and said, "But she can ride.  Never sat a bike in her life, but she can ride now.  More to the point, she likes it.  Won't be in the X-Games anytime soon, but she can get from here to there without killing somebody.  And she won't embarrass herself when she shows up at a call."  He looked back out to sea.  "That's something, I guess."

Soldier Boy shook his head. "That one still worries me. Gives me a knot in my gut. Know what I mean?"

Stone nodded and then shrugged.  "Ain't gonna get any better with her on monitor duty all the time."

"Excuse the fuck out of me?"

Stone shrugged.  "My two cents."

Soldier Boy stared out to sea with his brow furrowed in thought. "Is she still on monitor duty?"

Stone shrugged again.  "You grounded her.  You tell me."

"It's out of my hands. The boss told me I acted beyond my authority when I did that, so you'll have to ask him." Soldier boy almost sounded like he was pouting. Almost. "I still think Heatwave has to get her head straight if she wants to be a hero. She's trying to hold onto the woman she used to be, and that person died with her family."

Soldier Boy winced when he heard what he said. So much for keeping secrets. "You didn't hear that from me."

"She gotta start somewhere," was all Stone said.

Soldier Boy waited for more and was left wanting. "God damn it, son. If you have something to say to me... say it!"

Stone's head slowly pivoted to stare at Soldier Boy for a moment.  He flicked his cigarette butt into the water and then said evenly, "Do I look like the 'beat around the bush' type to you?  Let's recap..."  His finger went back and forth between them.  "We both think she's shaky.  That ain't gonna change with her being grounded.  She's gotta start somewhere. Anything I missed?"

He shook his head.  "You're the pro, I get that," he said a little deferentially.  "But I'm telling you, she's ready for this.  It's just like the bike.  She just needs a little self confidence."

"Damn right I'm the pro. I've fought more bad guys than you have, I've served with more superheroes than you have, and most important I've buried more superheroes than you have. I don't want to say there's a specific type that gets themselves killed. Hell, it could happen to any of us, including you. I'm just saying that the ones who don't have their heads in the game are sitting ducks. Heatwave fits that bill perfect."

Soldier Boy listened to the surf for a moment. "You're right, though. She's not going to get any better sitting on a shelf. I'll work with Nemesis to get her back on duty if she isn't already, but I'd like you to promise me something, Stone. I'd like you to promise to watch her back in the field."

Talked yourself into that one, Stone admitted to himself grimly.

"Done," he replied.  "Besides," he added as he looked back out to sea, "she's CMC, so we got each other's back."

Soldier Boy nodded as he watched a duck swim by with her ducklings in tow. "You going to ask about the bike?"

"What bike?"

"You didn't even notice it missing?" Soldier Boy laughed. "I took my hover bike for a test drive. Sweet machine. It handled real damn nice. Well... that is, it did right up til the end there." He picked up one of his socks from the edge of the pier and wrung some more water out of it.

"Oh, man..."  Stone leaned forward and looked down at the dark brine.  "What happened?"

"God damned hover mode wouldn't engage. I got up to speed, got airborne, flipped the damned switch, then splash." Soldier Boy pointed out the key locations of the mishap as he spoke. "I don't want to tell you how to do your job, hoss, but you fucked something up on my bike."

"How fast were you going when you hit the end of the pier?" Stone asked, letting the accusation slide for now.

Soldier Boy shrugged. "Seventy, maybe."

"You know these things come with a black box, right?" the biker asked the older hero, as a way of asking if he was sure about how fast he was going.

"Then why the hell you asking me for?" Soldier Boy stabbed a finger in the direction of the water. "Go ask the damned black box. Seventy. I'm almost positive it was seventy."

"Well..." Stone rubbed his chin while looking down again at the water, considering.  Finally he turned back and started walking to his bike. 

"Let me know when you get it back to the Cathedral."

"Me?" Soldier Boy was up and shadowing Stone. "You're the damned team grease monkey. Hell, you're probably the one who fucked up the hover mode for me. You go get the damned thing."

"You're not big on personal responsibility, are you," Stone noted as he shrugged his jacket back on.

"Suck my balls, Easy Rider."

"Told you before I don't swing that way," the biker calmly replied as he swung a leg over his bike.  With a twist of his head he added, "Not that there's anything wrong with that."

"Wait." Soldier Boy walked over to Stone and tried very hard to not look contrite. He knew he was being an ass. His fourth wife always told him that his misconduct was proportionate to how embarrassing his situation was. He thought about explaining that to Stone, but it was too many big words. No choice but to tell him the truth. "I can't find the damn thing. I've been down there a couple times. It's too dark. My eyes aren't what they used to be, and..."

Soldier Boy swallowed hard.

"...and I could use your help."

Stone paused in the act of starting his bike and gave Soldier Boy a look.  He sighed out his nose and got off his bike, and then walked around it to where the older hero was standing.  He studied the vulnerable look on Soldier Boy's face with impassive, shaded eyes bereft of any sign as to what was going on behind them.

After a moment he chucked Soldier Boy on the shoulder.  "No problem, chief.  Grab a sheet of that road plate over there."

Stone pointed behind him to a stack of 8'x4' steel plates standing about thirty feet away from them on the pier along with some other light construction equipment while he removed his jacket again and then walked in the other direction to the edge of the pier.

With a noticable grumble, Soldier Boy went to retrieve the steel plate. He hated taking orders, but he did ask for the kid's help. He choked back the humiliation and did as he was told.

Stone was sizing something up between the pier's surface and the water below when Soldier Boy came over with the plate.  He looked at the plate in the trainer's hands and grew thoughtful.

"Here, give it to me."  The biker took the giant heavy steel plate in one hand like it was a sheet of paper.  His other hand removed his sunglasses and handed them to Soldier Boy.  "Hold on to these for a second."

Soldier Boy donned the sunglasses. He looked cool.

Then Stone jumped off the pier.  Plate in hand, he made a giant splash and sunk immediately.  Just as quickly he appeared back on the surface, kicking hard.

"Catch," he called up to the team trainer before tossing the steel plate up to him. Soldier Boy caught it one handed.

"Use the wet steel," Stone explained as he tread water.  He pointed at the sun, bright in the afternoon sky.  "Like a mirror.  Give me some light down here."

Not sure the plan was going to work, Soldier Boy angled the steel so that a bright spot appeared on the water in the vicinity where the bike went down. "This takes me back," he shouted. "Reminds me of the time I used a hand mirror to kill a vampire. He was standing inside a cave entrance sticking his tongue out at me, like he thought I couldn't get to him. Flashed sunlight in his face until his eyes started to sizzle. Then I ran in, grabbed the son-of-a-bitch before he could turn himself into mist, and threw him outside. He burned real good. Stank though."

Stone had been studying the water.  "Hold that thought," he replied before diving down into the deep.  He was down there a good two minutes before he finally broke the surface of the water again.  Man and hypercycle rose out of the Atlantic and up, floating over the side of the pier dripping seawater all the way and then landing softly between Stone's ride and the edge where stood Soldier Boy.

Stone shook his head and his long, matted hair whipped sprays of the salty water around where he stood.  He threw his head back to clear the locks out of his face before crouching to give the bike a once-over.

"I think it'll start," he said. "Might want to give it a minute to drain, though."

"Thanks, Easy Rider, serious," Soldier Boy said, "and, Jesus Christ, when were you planning to tell me you could fly? I mean, I like bikes as much as the next guy, but who the hell rides a hog when he can fuckin' fly?"

Stone paused, thought for a moment, and then shrugged and focused back on the waterlogged engine.  "I do.  Just never liked the attention, I guess."

Soldier Boy looked askew at the large man in the sunglasses and motorcycle leathers who didn't like attention. "Well, if you can fire lasers out of your ass or some shit like that it'd be good to know." He crouched and looked at the bike. "How's my ride?"

"These engines are sealed, don't run on combustion," Stone explained as he fiddled with a gasket.  "It'll either start right up or maybe explode."

The biker stood up and gestured casually to the hypercycle's seat.  "Give it a try."

Soldier Boy mounted the bike and turned the key. The machine hummed to life with a throbbing that he figured he'd enjoy if he was a chick. "Good enough. Thanks, Easy Rider. I really appreciate it. Now, we gotta talk about this buggy hovermode thingee. I swear to god, I got up to speed, pressed this button right here, and nothing happened."

Soldier Boy was pointing at the wrong button.

Stone tried hard not to palm his face.  After a pause, he looked around and then stepped in close to the heroic legend to subvocalize, "Um, that's the GPS, man."

Soldier Boy stared at the control console. "What? But..."

The biker stepped back a few and then shrugged.  "Hey, at least you knew exactly where you were, right?" he noted with a hint of amused sarcasm. 

"Fuck!" Soldier Boy turned his bike around, got a running start and roared off the end of the pier. The hypercycle did it's Transformers thing, and Soldier Boy was soon zooming around the surface of water harassing ducks and seagulls. After a couple of minutes of that he pulled up next to the pier.

"Okay, now what?"

Stone had an idea, and had already gotten back on his own bike.

Half an hour later the two men were seated at the Windmill's booth number six.  Stone had his two dogs with mustard, relish, and onions, and a Budweiser longneck. 

He was sitting across from a man he thought was the shit for most of his life, the real deal out there kicking ass for God and country, but now it struck him that the living legend was just another guy.  It was an odd thing when your expectations got adjusted by reality like that.  And in a weird way, Stone felt better about it. 

"I didn't know you could ride," Stone mentioned before taking his first bite.  "You ever spend any serious time on the road?"

Soldier Boy shook his head as he picked up one of his three chili cheese dogs. Some of the toppings dropped off onto one of his two orders of chili cheese fries. "Tell you the truth I've never even owned my own ride. Almost all the riding I've ever done has been mission based."

The senior hero noticed a couple of high school girls in a booth giggling and pointing in his direction. They were too young even for his tastes. He figured he'd be signing autographs in the near future. "Last time I was on a bike I swiped it out from under a minion of Deathmaster. Clotheslined the little son of a bitch. Then I tore down the runway after Deathmaster's jet. Last time I saw that bike it was tumbling end over end off the runway while I tried to hold on to the plane. I think I was on the bike an entire ten seconds."

Stone swallowed and asked, "Why'd you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Take the job," Stone replied.  "You had a good run.  Not that you're old, but... you're not the retirement type, are you."  It was a statement more than a question.

The absolute truth was that Soldier Boy had consumed Jag's entire life for so long that he didn't know who he was without the mask. That scared him, but it was none of Stone's business. "I still wanted to work and the Con-kwist-adories gave me my one and only offer. I didn't like the team trainer angle and I've never made it a secret that I intend to work in the field, but I have to admit I like working with the kids. Passing on my experience and all that shit."

Soldier Boy grabbed a wad of chili cheese fries and managed to get most of them in his mouth. "Same question for you, lone wolf. Giving up the open road and settling down don't quite fit your image."

Stone leaned back and sighed.  "Yeah, well... you may be surprised, what with my sparkling personality," Stone replied neutrally, "but I don't have a lot of friends.  Don't have any friends, really."  The biker took a drink from his beer and swallowed down the bitter truth of the statement.

 "Well I made one," he explained after he put his beer back down.  His sunglasses stared at it as he spun it around slowly between two fingers until he could read the label.  "Having friends is a bitch."

As if to throw off the mood, Stone shrugged and took anbother bite of his dog.

"Damn straight," Soldier Boy said. The two men ate in silence for a while. Soldier Boy could hear one of the teenage girls getting egged on by the others. He wiped his chin expecting to pose for a picture. The girl hurried across the dining room and stood by the heroes' table.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry to interupt, but if you gave me your autograph I'd just die."

Soldier Boy looked up and gave the girl his best public relations smile, but she didn't see it. She only had eyes for Stone.

The biker's brows drew in from confusion.  "Me?"  He looked at Soldier Boy and then back at the girl.  "You want my autograph?"

The girl nodded quickly, her eyes dreamily gazing upon Stone in his leather and denim glory.  His first reaction was to tell her to fuck off, but he doubted Ophilia would approve of that and he did promise her that he'd avoid making any PR waves.

With a sigh, he asked, "What's your name, kid?"

"Carly," she replied, nearly ready to squeal.

"Got a pen?"

The teen produced a red Sharpie and handed it to Stone.  The biker took it and and wrote on one of the extra napkins on the table.  Underneath the Windmill name and logo he wrote: Carly, stay out of trouble - Stone.

As he handed it to her, he gestured over to where Soldier Boy was sitting and stewing.  "You know who this is?"

Carly looked at Soldier Boy as if noticing him for the first time. She studied him for a moment with furrowed brow then shruggered her shoulders and turned her attention back to Stone. "Your dad?"

Soldier Boy laughed heartily and clapped his hands. "Tell you what, little girl," he said as he grabbed the Sharpie, scribbled Carly, keep fighting the good fight - Soldier Boy on a napkin, and handed it to the girl. "Give that to your dad. Trust me, he'll be impressed."

After the jailbait hopped off to rejoin her friends in a mass of fangirl giggling, Stone turned to Soldier Boy and said, "My first autograph."  With a shake of his head he added, "What bullshit."

"It's your own damned fault, Easy Rider. You made yourself into a real live superhero. Wait until you start getting hounded for endorsements. That's the real pain in the ass."

"I didn't make myself anything," Stone retorted, pointing at his lunch companion.  He snorted.  "I'm no hero."

"Oh really?" Soldier Boy said. "Suppose this happens. Suppose Carly or one of her friends over there walks out the front door here and gets snatched up by a pteradactyl?  Don't laugh, I've seen it happen. What you going to do? You just going to sit there with your dog and fries, or you going to get up and fly to the rescue?" Soldier Boy waited for an answer with a smile stretched across his face.

"C'mon, dude," Stone replied in disagreement after a moment.  "That hardly makes me a hero.  It isn't like I'm sacrificing anything or putting myself in danger."

"You have powers and you give a shit. Sorry to break this to you, but you're a hero." Soldier Boy took a swig. "So, that's your frame of mind, is it? The 'real' heroes are the ones who are putting their lives on the line like your boyfriend Nemesis."

Stone nodded.  "Aren't they?"  He leaned forward.  "Nemesis, Heatwave, Avatar...they can dish it out pretty good.  But all it takes is one bullet, one mistake, one bad call, and it's all over.  Even you, if the bullet's big enough.  But they do it anyway.  They care more about giving a shit than their own ass."

"Now look at me," he continued, leaning back.  "I've been in hundreds of fights. I've been shot, stabbed, blown up, set on fire, electrocuted, irradiated, and exposed to the vacuum of space. I've even fallen from orbit.  I've never been hurt, not once, not a scratch.  I've never felt pain in my life and I've never been put down 'cept one time, and I still walked away from that one without any damage 'cept to my pride.  You tell me, how heroic is it to fly off and curb stomp some flying lizard when I've got nothing better to do anyway?"

Stone shook his head and lifted his beer.  "It ain't the same." 

Soldier Boy was surprised to see this side of Stone. It amused him. "There's a 'bullet' somewhere out in the big old world big enough to take you out, and you know that. Going public with the Conquistadors increases your chance of getting in front of that bullet by approximately a shitload, and you know that." He pointed a finger at Stone. "Hero."

Stone sat there looking grumpy, eyes boring into Soldier Boy who just got back to eating, firmly satisfied the argument was won.  It went on like that for a good twenty seconds before Stone moved again.  He picked up his hot dog and went to eat.  On the way to his mouth, his lunch stopped.

"Go fuck yourself," the biker said before finally taking a bite.