As Marilyn moaned against his mouth, the lights flickered on. Removing his hands from where he’d been busy feeling up her trim waist, Harlan disengaged from the kiss and blinked blearily at the silhouettes clustered on the landing. “Oh,” he murmured. “Fuck.”
“Who –”
“Uh, don’t worry about it,” Harlan babbled, helping Marilyn down from the countertop, and ran his hands through his tousled hair. “What are you doing here, Max?”
His niece folded her arms. “I’m having a sleepover, Uncle Harry. Didn’t I tell you?”
“Oh,” Harlan said. “Yeah. You did.” He glanced at Marilyn, who was busy pulling her slinky dress back down over her thighs. “I thought you’d be, uh, in the guest room.”
“We were,” said one of Max’s friends, looking unimpressed and somewhat disgusted. “We were playing truth-or-dare, and Edie dared me to sneak out to the minibar and steal a bottle of vodka.”
“Do your parents know about this?”
Max rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Uncle Harry?”
“Yeah, okay, right,” Harlan muttered. “I’m the cool uncle. Whatever.” Manoeuvring Marilyn discreetly to the side, he waved vaguely at the minibar. “All yours. Just don’t… throw up on the floor. If you must, do it in the guest bathroom.” Feeling somehow chastised, he dragged Marilyn up the stairs, past the girls, and into his bedroom, whereupon he shut the door and sagged against it wearily.
“What the fuck was that?”
Harlan opened his eyes. The mood had been ruined. Struggling to spur his alcohol-sodden brain into action, he pinched the bridge of his nose and tilted his head back. “My brother’s stepdaughter,” he grunted. “She has friends over. Sometimes. I’m rarely home, so I gave her a copy of the keys.” He shook his head. “You know I’m going to Langley tomorrow, right? Must’ve given her free rein.”
“Oh, of course.” Marilyn’s tone turned cutting. “For your job.” She stood up from where she’d been seated on his bed. “What do you do for a living, anyway?”
Harlan shrugged. “Can’t we talk about this later?”
Marilyn’s lips thinned.

“Hey, Marilyn, don’t –” 
The door slammed shut. Harlan hissed through his teeth, raked his fingers through his hair, and turned to see Max and her friends staring at him. “This is my house,” he informed them, sticking a cigarette in his mouth, “and I can do what I want.”
“We didn’t say anything,” one of the girls pointed out.
Shaking his head, Harlan made a beeline for the minibar. The girls scattered as he mixed himself a gin and tonic. Once he was done, he exited onto the balcony and lit his cigarette, quaffing liberally from the tumbler in his hand between drags.
His apartment was damned nice. It still beggared the mind to think that he’d advanced so far in just a few years, but powers really opened a hell of a lot of doors. All he’d needed was a full-face mask and a near-death experience, and it’d been up, up and away. Shit, a woman like Marilyn would never have given him the time of day ten years ago. Or maybe he was just trying to make himself feel better.
The door behind him slid open, and Harlan turned, squinting, to see that his living room was ablaze with light. Max stepped out onto the balcony. “You okay, Uncle Harry?”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” Harlan tossed his cigarette over his shoulder without a backward glance. “Take care of your parents for me, got it?”
Max nodded solemnly. “Sorry for, uh, pissing off your girlfriend.”
Harlan let out a harsh bark of laughter. “Marilyn, my girlfriend? Nah. She’s just a temporary squeeze. Pretty though, ain’t she? Easy on the eyes.”
“That’s misogynistic.”
“What are you, Lustrum?” Harlan drained the last of his gin and tonic and ruffled Max’s hair on the way in. “Don’t trash my apartment while I’m gone, or I’ll tell your mother about your little adventure with my minibar.”

Papers shuffling. The soft murmur of conversation. Camera shutters clicking. Harlan checked his watch, tapped his pocket, and glanced at his business partner before checking his watch again. Mr Theseus, resplendent in what looked like a velvety tuxedo, gave no sign of having noticed anything that was going on. Green light continued to burn within his eye-sockets, and his fingers of metal and bone were utterly still.
“… has made it abundantly clear that we require an upgrade. In more ways than one. That’s why we have decided to open the floor to parahuman contractors to give the United States an edge in dealing with terrorists, villains and other destabilizing elements. May I present…”
Harlan glanced at his watch. “When is it our turn?”
Mr Theseus’ jaw did not move, but a low sound issued from his general direction all the same. “We will be going onstage after Mr Everywhere.” A pause. “Fourth in line.”
“Splendid,” Harlan grunted. His suit itched. He wasn’t used to doing his collar up like this. He’d had this full-face mask for years, and he still didn’t feel comfortable wearing it. Adjusting his tie, he tapped his foot on the floor and sighed.
He had expensive tastes, it was true, but Harlan liked to think that he knew his limits. He wasn’t that greedy. He knew full well that Theseus and Gustav were the real reasons behind UC’s success, and his salary, while certainly large by regular standards, was nothing compared to the wealth that the other two had accumulated. In short, he was easily satisfied. That made him the ideal business partner.
And, well, if Theseus decided to boot him out, he’d made his money.
“… Umbrella Corporation and its subsidiaries, Theseus Incorporated, Apotheosis Incorporated…”
Harlan stopped fiddling with his mask and stepped out from behind the curtain, Theseus a half-step behind him. He waved, smiling behind his mask, and bowed deeply, a showman to the last. The medal-bedecked general at the podium continued to rattle off their achievements as the two of them moved to join the other parahumans lined up against the wall. And there they stood, waiting for the roll-call to finish…
Until phones started going off.
Harlan’s phone was one of them. As it vibrated in his pants pocket, he began to surreptitiously inch his hand in to silence it, but found that the assembled reporters were glancing down at their phones as well. The masked parahuman beside him unlocked his phone and inhaled sharply. Harlan glanced at Theseus, shrugged, and pulled his phone out.
BREAKING: PARAHUMAN RAMPAGE ONGOING IN DOWNTOWN BROCKTON BAY, DEATH TOLL AT 200 AND RISING
“What the fuck?”