The first time I saw her was at the Mayor's office.

I was there on business, attempting to scrape up work for my people. I... May have had an argument with the Public Works departmental lawyer when he implied that some extra work could come the way of the dock workers if I were more amenable to looking the other way with regard to some things.

Well, Annette and I had been social justice crusaders when we were young, and she would have rolled over in her grave if I put up with that kind of nonsense.

The ensuing argument was loud, disruptive, and people were staring by the time it ended with a red faced lawyer retreating. I rarely let my temper show, but god damn it if that weasel didn't piss me off.

So there I was, fists clenched, face red, breath heaving when a voice intrudes on my anger.

"That man is an ass."

Startled I looked to my right. She was tall for a woman, with creamy brown skin, dark almond shaped eyes, and dark brown hair pulled tight in a bun on the back of her head. She had a slight accent that I didn't recognize, but would guess she was from someplace in the mid-east. She wore a professional ensemble of dark waistcoat with matching blouse and skirt along with modest heels. She was observing the retreating sleazy lawyer with a look of disdain on her face.

She was absurdly beautiful.

I felt immediately ridiculous.

I really disliked when my temper got the better of me. I'd sworn as a young man that I would never subject my loved ones to what I'd endured as a child and I felt the famous "Hebert temper" had a lot to do with how my father had treated us growing up. I felt the need to apologize.

"I'm sorry you had to see that." I said turning to face her directly. "I was out of line. I apologize Misses?" I let the question hang. She turned her attention to me fully and I was struck by the intensity of her gaze.

"It's Miss actually." She extended her hand, "Hannah Washington, PRT public relations specialist at your service."

I reached for her hand. She had a firm, warm handshake.

"Daniel Hebert, Dockworker's association." I said. "I apologize for the presumption."

She laughed. A beautiful, chiming, and infinitely feminine sound to my ears.

"Nonsense Daniel, I see you wear a ring. I take it you are married then?"

I tried not to let my feelings show as I answered. "Widowed actually," I said. I could see the dismay in Hannah's face and she made to speak but I beat her to it as I held up a hand.

"Please, please don't worry. You couldn't have known, and while I miss my wife terribly I have my daughter to help me through so I'm doing well."

I tried not to dwell on those dark first weeks when I had fallen apart completely and Alan had literally slapped some sense back into me. Since then Taylor and I had become much closer. I would never be able to replace her mom, but I like to think that Taylor could and would trust me with most things going on in her life. Thinking about Taylor I couldn't help but add,

"Taylor is just as amazing as her mom was."

I must have had a goofy grin on my face thinking about my girls because Hannah laughed again and reached into her handbag producing a business card which she held out to me.

"If you ever find yourself downtown near the PRT building, ring me and we will do lunch," her voice held a hint of amusement. "I would like to learn more regarding the dockworker's Daniel Hebert and his amazing daughter Taylor."

I may have sputtered some kind of response but to this day I can't recall what I said. Mostly I felt incredulous embarrassment that I had just been propositioned by a woman like Hannah Washington. I watched her saunter away, every male in the place following her with their eyes.

XXXXooooXXXX

It took me weeks to get up the courage to call Hannah. Of course the intervening weeks had been a whirlwind of chaos, but the exotic woman never quite managed to slip my mind completely, but there had been some serious distractions.

Emma and Alan had been attacked while Taylor was away at summer camp. When Taylor had returned, Emma had been acting seriously off and had a new friend. The two of them had apparently verbally attacked Taylor outside Emma's home. Taylor had come home in tears.

It took several tense phone calls to Alan and Zoe and a heated family meeting to work out what was going on with Emma. Eventually the whole story came out and Emma burst into tears apologizing to Taylor over and over. It was agreed that therapy was in order, not only for Emma but for this Sophia girl as well.

Later that same night Taylor had confided to me that she had considered giving up her spot at Arcadia in order to stay in the same school as Emma, but that Emma herself had talked Taylor out of it. She knew how hard Taylor had worked for her grades.

The next Sunday morning Taylor had found me staring at Hannah's business card at our kitchen table holding a cup of coffee that had gone cold.

"Dad, what are you doing?" she said, sitting down next to me.

I turned to face her more fully. If I was actually going to try for a date with Hannah I wanted to make sure Taylor was completely comfortable with the idea. It hadn't even been two years since we lost Annette after all. I needed to be 100% transparent with her and be accepting if she wasn't ready for her dad to start a relationship with someone who wasn't her mom. I'd already decided that if she was uncomfortable with the idea that I would not call Hannah. As intriguing as I found the woman, Taylor was more important.

"Well," I hesitated wondering how to start. "I think I was propositioned by a woman a couple weeks back and now I'm trying to decide if calling her is a good idea." I said cautiously, watching her closely.

Her face registered surprise, then a bit of fear and sadness, then surprisingly some genuine happiness. She took a moment to process what I'd said and then she got a puzzled look on her face.

"What do you mean 'you think' you were propositioned?" She said in that incredulous way that only teens can pull off.

I had a wry grin on my face as I answered.

"Well, in my defense it's been a long time since I've had to worry about what the opposite sex was thinking about me." I tried to recall Hannah's mannerisms, "It's possible she was just being nice and not actually interested in me…" I trialed off, talking about this with Taylor was making me doubt my own recollections.

Taylor, much like her mother would have once upon a time, took charge. "Okay, I'm going to need the entire story if I'm going to help you with this dad. Why don't you start from the beginning?"

It took several minutes to tell the story and as I wrapped up my tale, Taylor was smiling at me in a way that made me feel like an idiot. She sighed and shook her head then spoke to me like I was a particularly slow child.

"Dad, beautiful women don't hand out their phone numbers to just anyone…" She eyed me with pity. "You're kind of pathetic you know."

I couldn't help it, I let out an undignified snort and tried to project some dignity into my voice.

"Taylor, even before I met your mother I wasn't exactly the kind of guy who attracted a lot of attention… I just wasn't sure…"

Mentioning her mom made Taylor become instantly serious. She reached out and took my hand.

"Mom would have wanted you to be happy," she said, and I could see her eyes start to shine. "If she were here she would call you an idiot for waiting so long to call this Hannah Washington."

I took a moment to marvel at my amazing daughter. She was so much like her mother, it made my heart ache.

"You're sure you don't mind?" I said, looking her in her beautiful green eyes, "It's okay if you're not comfortable, you know I'll never forget your mom right…"

Taylor didn't react for a moment, then rose from her seat and hugged me for all I was worth.

That was answer enough for me.

XXXXooooXXXX

I called the next day around lunch time, hoping she would be free to talk. Unfortunately I got her voicemail. I left a message, hoping that she remembered me and apologizing that it took me so long to call her. At the end of my rambling message, I left my mobile phone number and asked her to call me back if she wanted. I sounded like an idiot to my own ears so I can only hope I was being my own worst critic.

After hanging up the phone, I felt a nervous energy in my bones that I hadn't felt in a very long time. My conversation with Taylor had done a lot to alleviate my guilt over pursuing another woman but I still felt some remorse, as if I was doing something behind Annette's back.

I tired to get myself back to work reaching for a file from the never ending pile on my desk when my eye caught the glint from my wedding band. I paused, looking at the old plain white gold band and wondering if I needed to take it off now that I was actively trying to date someone new… The idea made me feel uncomfortable. I rolled the ring around my finger like I'd done a thousand times before, thinking about my wife. It still hurt, the loss, the loneliness, the late nights when sleep wouldn't come and I could swear that I could still smell her in the sheets of our bed.

Then I thought about my conversation with Taylor. How my daughter encouraged me to pursue Hannah and told me that Annette would have wanted me to be happy and find someone new. That she knew that I wasn't betraying her mother and that she supported me and wanted me to find love again.

Thinking about Taylor always made me feel better and not for the first time I wondered what I would have done without my daughter in my corner.

I took a steadying breath and slowly worked the old ring off my finger, placing it on the desk in front of me. I felt good, almost lighter somehow. I still loved and remembered and respected my wife and always would, but removing the ring felt like an acknowledgement that I could move on, make a new life… I may have had misty eyes but I was smiling.

After a time I decided I really did need to get back to work and turned on the radio to help pass the time. A few songs played and then the public service announcement tone sounded, followed by a message to avoid some areas of the docks because the protectorate was engaging the villain Oni-Lee.

Swearing to myself I flew out of my office. I could see that Grace had been on her way to get me, her face grim.

"I know," I said, not slowing down, "I heard it on the radio, I'm heading down there now." I reached for the door, "How many do we have there?"

"Six!" she said and I grimaced, that was a lot of opportunity for someone to get hurt.

Grace handed me a sheet with names and numbers and I started dialing the first one as I moved toward the exit. I nodded my thanks as I hit the door. I'd be damned if I was going to leave my boys at the mercy of some villain and the protectorate.

My people depended on me.

I jumped in my truck and started the engine. I pulled my tire iron from under the seat, tossing it on the seat next to me I threw the truck in gear, then accelerated out of the parking lot on squealing tires. The cross streets from the radio report was only a few blocks away so I'd be there in a matter of minutes. I started dialing numbers but none of my boys were picking up their phones, which could be good or bad. Good if they are just working hard and can't hear it, bad if they've been exploded by Oni-Lee.

As I neared the location I began to hear explosions, even over the admittedly loud exhaust of my old truck. I slowed down, not wanting to drive right into the middle of a cap fight.

There was a staccato series of explosions and then suddenly Oni-Lee was standing in the road fifty feet ahead of me. The man wore some kind of black ninja suit with a demon themed face mask. Bandoliers holding what looked like several kinds of grenades criss-crossed his chest and he held a large knife in his right hand… a large bloody knife by the look of it.

I brought my truck to a stop on squealing tires and we just looked at each other for a few endless seconds. I was slowly reaching up to put my truck in reverse and make a break for it when several things happened at once.

Several PRT troopers and Miss Militia emerged from a side street. Miss Militia caught sight of Oni-Lee and raised some kind of rifle like weapon toward Lee and started barking orders.

Oni-Lee pulled a grenade from his bandolier and tossed it toward my truck.

I could see the sunlight glinting off of the device as it sailed through the air towards me. I grabbed the door handle, pushed the door open and ejected myself from the cab toward the back of the truck just as I heard the grenade tink on the hood.

I didn't actually hear a bang - I just felt a concussion down to my bones and my ears decided to stop working except to ring constantly. The truck must have taken the brunt of the explosion because I was still alive and relatively unhurt.

I rolled myself away from my now burning truck and I could see flashes of light coming from the area where Lee had been; I could feel impacts in my chest that could only be more grenades detonating. I forced myself to my feet and stumbled away from the wreckage of my truck toward the sidewalk and ducked down behind a large concrete city garbage can. I peered around the can, trying to get an idea of what was going on and if I could make a break for where my men were.

I could see Lee teleporting around the intersection dropping grenades and trying to avoid whatever Miss Militia was firing at him. There were several troopers down in the intersection, one obviously dead but another was feebly attempting to pull themselves away from the fight toward some parked cars.

Damn, there was no way I could leave the trooper out in the open like that. With a calming breath I readied myself. As soon as I saw Lee teleport to the other side of the intersection I broke for the trooper.

It probably only took seconds to reach them but it felt like an eternity. I also realized that I hadn't got away as injury free as I'd thought because I had a stabbing pain in my side. I didn't feel as though I were going to pass out in the next minute or two so I decided that probably meant I had time to pull the trooper from the fray.

I finally reached the trooper who was obviously female upon closer inspection. Her right leg was a bloody mess, but she was gamely attempting to reach cover all the while screaming into her coms for backup.

I didn't bother saying anything to her, I just scooped her up in a bridal carry, my side objected even more vigorously to this, and broke for the cover of the parked cars that were around ten yards away.

As I made my way toward the cars, much slower than I would have liked, I expected to be stabbed in the back at any moment. It never happened though, and I swung us around behind a medium sized sport utility and unceremoniously dumped us both onto the ground.

The unnamed trooper was still nearly screaming into her com while at the same time attempting to pull her rifle from behind herself and get a bead on Lee. I found myself incredibly impressed that someone as grievously wounded as the trooper was still trying to get in the fight.

My ears were starting to work better now because I could hear the sound of weapons fire from beyond our hiding place. Apparently Miss Militia had decided that enough was enough and had broke out the lethal weapons.

I chanced a look over the hood of the vehicle that was our cover, just in time to see Oni-Lee be torn apart by some kind of automatic weapon fired by the Protectorate hero. I felt a moment of elation, thinking this ordeal was over, then watched as the now quite dead clone disintegrated into ash and another version of Lee appear a few feet behind Miss Militia.

I felt my heart in my throat, thinking I was about to see a hero killed in front of me. I had a scream half out of my throat in some uselessly late warning to the hero.

My fear was unfounded though, because I watched in awe as Miss Militia's weapon changed in a swirl of green energy from some kind of rifle into a short sword. Without even looking she swung the sword behind herself and somehow executed a somersault roll to her right all at the same time.

The sword contacted Lee's chest in a spray of blood, and the villain stumbled back, clutching himself. A second later Lee dissolved into ashes and a new version appeared across the street but with a clear line of sight to my hiding spot. The new Lee still had the chest wound from the sword.

I could see that the villain was staggered by the wound. Lee looked toward me and the trooper, then back to Miss Militia who was now leveling a rather large pistol at the villain.

Without hesitation, Lee snatched a grenade from his bandolier and threw it toward our position.

I had a split second to make a decision: leave the trooper to her fate, or try to shield her?

In the end it wasn't much of a choice. My only regret would be leaving Taylor without her dad but I had faith in the Barnes'; I knew that they would take good care of my girl. I just couldn't conscience looking her in the eye if I left a defenseless trooper to her death.

I threw myself over the trooper, turning my back to the grenade. I heard the grenade tink-tink the ground somewhere behind me and then all I saw was bright white light…

XXXXooooXXXX

Consciousness returned slowly.

For some reason my eyes just didn't seem to want to open. My thoughts were scattered, I couldn't remember where I was or what I had been doing. Sounds filtered in: distant voices, footsteps, a tv set to a news report about the weather…

I retraced memory, trying to piece together events. I remember talking with Taylor in the morning, then heading to work, but then things get fuzzy… Something about a radio report… a cape fight…

With almost alarming clarity the memory snapped into place. My men, Oni Lee, Miss Militia, the grenade… I was lucky to be alive, if exhausted. I breathed deeply, attempting to gather the strength necessary to open my eyes or even move.

Eventually, after what seemed an eternity, I managed to pry my exhausted eyes open to an over bright, obvious hospital room, sunlight streaming in from a large window to my right.

I had an IV and was wearing one of those terrible hospital gowns; this one happens to be light blue with a flower design patterned on it.

I managed to roll my head to the left, revealing a small table attached to the bed and beyond that the slim figure of my daughter curled up in an uncomfortable looking chair fast asleep.

I took a moment to just watch her.

Her legs were tucked up under her bottom and her head rested on her arm in an awkward potion that only a child could sleep through. Her long black curls obscured her face and I could see her well loved paperback copy of The Two Towers laying on a chair next to her. For a moment I was overcome with just how much she resembled her mother in that moment. Taylor was taller than Annette sure, but otherwise they could have been sisters. Both so intelligent and beautiful. I could feel my eyes watering as I looked at my beautiful Taylor and thought about how close I came to making her an orphan.

I tried my voice but instead of 'Taylor' something soft and unintelligible came out - my mouth felt like a desert. Even so, it was enough to wake my daughter who fairly flew out of her chair, crushing me in a hug that I did my best to return.

For long moments neither of us said anything, just reveling in the closeness. Eventually I felt her start to pull back so I released her and did my best to meet her dark eyes.

I could see anger mixed with fear and even pride war in her expression as she looked at me.

"Don't ever scare me like that again." she said, her voice low and solemn. "You were in bad shape when they brought you in," her eyes started watering, her voice began to shake, "They tell me you only survived because Miss Militia called in a favor from Panacea to heal you…"

She lets me take in this last statement, looking away out the window. I struggled to come up with something to say, something to make her feel better. Eventually I settled for the simple truth.

"I'm sorry I scared you." I croaked out.

Not, 'I'm sorry I got involved' or 'I'll never do anything like that again', because we both knew that was a lie. Just a simple declaration that I was sorry for the pain I caused her.

When I spoke, she looked back at me from the window, and by the look in her eyes I could tell she got the distinction. It seemed to be enough because she sighed dramatically and started adjusting my blanket around me.

"What am I going to do with you?" I knew the question was rhetorical so I said nothing.

She reached over and handed me a glass of water with a straw that I hadn't noticed. I took several mouthfuls of water, the cool liquid soothing my parched throat. I set the water on the table.

"Do you know what happened to our guys?" I asked, "Or for that matter what happened to Miss Militia and the troopers?"

Knowing my daughter the way I did, I was sure that she had gathered all the pertinent information.

"Our guys are fine, they were never really in harm's way. Miss Militia showed up before Oni Lee could really hurt anyone." She reached for my hand, giving it a squeeze. "Oni Lee is dead." her voice was deadpan. "I'm told that after you were hurt Miss Militia decided she had had enough and managed to tag him with a head shot."

"Oh," I said, wondering if I would now have to worry about reprisals from Lung against the docs.

We were both silent for a while, contemplating things and enjoying each others company. Taylor eventually broke the silence.

"She's really nice."

She must have noted the confusion on my face because she grinned the terrifying grin of the teenager.

"Miss Washington silly. She stopped by to see you." She said squeezing my hand again. "I can see why you were so taken with her."

"Yes, well I'm kind of surprised that she stopped by," I said puzzled, "We've barely spoke and I know she works for the PRT but I'm not sure how she knew I was involved…"

Taylor looked at me like I was an alien.

"Dad, Miss Washington is the public relations specialist for Miss Militia, so of course she figured out that you were involved." Taylor's grin became predatory, "She was quite upset with you for getting yourself hurt… She did say that I should make sure to tell you that you saved the life of that trooper." The pride was back in her eyes.

I didn't know what to say to that. I didn't save that young trooper for any reason other than it was the right thing to do. The fact that it apparently made an impression on Hannah was just a lucky bonus.

"Yes well, I didn't do it to impress anyone… I just couldn't leave that young trooper there to die Taylor, I hope you can understand that?"

Taylor looked away from me again, a small grimace on her face.

"I know dad, it's just I need you too, don't forget that okay?"

I reached up and rubbed her back.

"Okay." What else could I say…