Page 39 of Static/Cling

Everyone had looks of worry, mixed with varying degrees of anger and panic.

Bjorn didn’t quite get why.

“Am I right?” Kassian asked, peering over his meal at Sal, who was tapping away at their keyboard.

“Yeah.” They frowned. “I thought the military moved out of North Bay eons ago.”

“Obviously, they wanted the world to think that,” Leif said.

“So.” Bjorn frowned. “What does it mean? I don’t understand.” His gut churned, because he didn’t understand, and he hated admitting it, but if he was going to be of any use at all, someone had to clue him in.

Leif took his hand, which he never did outside of sex. “It’s a list of names and personal info.”

“Whose?”

“Ours,” Kassian snapped. “Among others,” he added when Leif shot him a dangerous look.

That look should not make Bjorn tingle in unmentionable places like it did. It was scary, and Leif meant it to terrify whoever he levelled it at. It worked for most people, including, it seemed, Kassian, which was a surprise, considering Kassian was twice Leif’s size.

Bjorn had given up pretending a long time ago it didn’t turn him on. “We don’t want the military to have our names,” he guessed, because that seemed the obvious takeaway, given how upset everyone was.

“We do not.” Kassian’s hard features went putty-soft and undefined for a split second before his scowl got so dark Bjorn’s chest constricted painfully. He wanted to reach over to take the big man’s hand, as Leif had done for him, or maybe rub between his shoulder blades. Anything to calm him down. But he would not only have had to stretch past Leif, sitting between them, to do it, he’d have to let go of Leif’s hand, and weirdly, he didn’t want to do that just yet. Instead, he tightened his fingers into a fist in his lap.

When Leif pressed a shoulder against Kassian’s and left it there, Bjorn’s chest loosened a little bit. At least he wasn’t the only person who’d noticed that the mean scowl was only mean to cover something else less hard and more hurt.

The glimpse was brief, and if he hadn’t been focused on Kassian, he would have missed it as the curtain of sharp self-defence fell into place. Whatever was motivating Kassian to stop this information getting out, it mattered. A lot.

Kassian took a deep breath and Bjorn felt the pressure of Leif pushing into him, as if Kassian had leaned into the touch offered, and pushed Leif against Bjorn in the process. Hecouldn’t hate the connection. As much as the man annoyed him, he obviously needed it.

Finally, Kassian picked up his wrap and went back to eating as Roger spoke.

“You know who Ward Sullivan is?” he asked.

Bjorn thought for a moment, because yes, the name had come up in the files he’d been reading, but a lot of it had been redacted, including the name in all but one forgotten place, so he had no context. “Should I?” he asked at last, because it was just faster to get them to tell him.

“Firefox,” Leif supplied. “I think we were in, like seventh grade when he?—”

“Oh. Yeah. I remember.” Though as a kid, he’d never known Firefox’s real name. “What ever happened to him?”

Kassian grunted. “The fucking government is what happened. Military ops. Missions they sent him on because he had powers, and not because he was the best person to get the job done. They didn’t care if he got hurt, because we’re a dime a dozen, and they’d just get someone else when he was burnt out.”

“He’s dead?”

Roger shuddered. “Worse. He lost most of his powers.”

“That can happen?” Bjorn ran his hand over the office divider, gathering the static into his fingertips, then touching one to the metal frame, setting off a shower of sparkling static. Leif’s hand in his tightened.

“Sorry,” he muttered as Sal yanked their cell phone out of range of the electric vibrations wavering through the air. He pushed his free hand between his knees and let the rest of the static snap its way down his leg instead.

“It can happen,” Kassian said, his voice a low, unhappy growl.

There was a story there beyond one faded and ancient, fire-tossing super no one had heard from in a million years. Bjornwanted to know what it was, but Sal jumped in to change the subject.

“So, what are we going to do about this?”

“Shouldn’t someone talk to April?” Bjorn asked.

Sal and Kassian both snorted. Roger’s ball bounced wildly off the corner of Sal’s desk, and he missed catching it. They all watched it hit the window with a resounding thud, then ricochet off a post, off the wooden divider by April’s vacant desk, to land in one of Bjorn’s open boxes.

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