"Unfortunately, I didn't recognize you in at the fire, earlier. It's a lot easier to recognize someone as one of us when they're tossing away rubble dressed in a ridiculously conspicuous dress," Johnathan said, smiling. When Harper glared at him for his use of the word 'dress,' Johnathan held his hands up in a placating gesture. "Supersuit, my apologies."
"I can see how you'd mistake that pink abomination for a dress," Felix sniped at Harper, taking the easy shot.
"At least I got to wear mine!" Harper returned. Felix winced; that one actually hurt. The fact that he had frozen didn't enable him to even think about donning his new costume. He wore a false smile, though, and welcomed Johnathan into his small dorm room.
"I don't have much in the way of refreshments," Felix said, moving some boxes around under his bed. "But… I do have some chocolate milk boxes, if you're interested." Armed with three of the aforementioned neon-yellow boxes – a nightmare of a design choice if there ever was one – Felix invited Johnathan to sit in the beanbag chair he'd managed to shove into his room.
Harper plopped down beside him on the bed, and Felix looked to her to explain what exactly Johnathan was here for. Johnathan, clearly not shy in the slightest, took care of that for her. "I'll cut right to the chase. Harper and I have already spoken at length earlier today, when I was under the assumption that she was the only superhuman there last night."
He looked pointedly at Felix, an apology in his eyes. "She's since informed me that you function on a much more imperceptible level, in terms of your power to rewind time," he explained. Felix, for his part, was shocked that he even knew about what he could do.
Glaring at Harper, Felix spoke slowly, "I can see that the two of you have become pretty well acquainted. I'd appreciate you coming to me personally if you'd like to hear my secrets." The words were said calmly, but from the way Harper looked at him, she caught onto his anger.
"I'm sorry, Felix. But he's one of us!" Harper exclaimed, excitedly. "He asked if we'd like to stay in touch with him and maybe practice our powers together. I brought him here to talk to you about that."
Johnathan put down his chocolate milk, putting his hands on his thighs. Bending his head a little, he spoke, "I'm truly sorry for having violated your privacy, Felix. I needed to know you were the real deal before I revealed myself to you. The feds have been getting more and more suspicious of people, and I didn't want you to report me via the tip line."
"There's a tip line?" Felix's eyes went wide. That was the first he'd heard of it.
"Of course! They set it up not that long after Thompson's big press conference. For a show of good faith, it's a pretty terrible one," Johnathan sighed. "I hope you understand my caution."
Hearing a man that could have easily been as old as his dad apologize to him – a guy barely in his twenties – quickly rectified his ill regard of Johnathan. That said, he was still furious that Harper hadn't consulted him about this earlier.
"Of course I do, Johnathan. What exactly would we be practicing for?"
"For times when we need to coordinate. Take last night, for instance. Had I known you two were there, I could have dropped you off in the higher floors to help me look for people," Johnathan reclined back in the beanbag. Almost two dozen people died, and a lot more were injured. Felix saw the older man's point.
Even though these events happened maybe once a year, if that, maybe they could save an additional life or two if they trained together. Still, it was asking a lot of trust from a man he hardly knew. "Johnathan, I hate to be suspicious of you, but why the instant interest in us?"
Harper spoke for the first time in minutes. "Didn't you and I do the same thing back when we first met?"
"Yeah, but we weren't trying to form some kind of super-team," Felix retorted.
"I'm sorry if it looks shady, Felix. You two are the only superhumans in West City that I'm aware of, and I was hoping we might be able to help each other understand what's happened to us. And even if we can't do that, we could still do good together," Johnathan said, running a hand through his short-cropped salt-and-pepper hair.
"Can I think about it?"
"Of course. I'll leave my business card with you; it's got my phone number on it. Just let me know what you've decided," Johnathan said, handing Felix a white card before leaving the room. Felix looked at the card and stifled a giggle. For how imposing a figure Johnathan Miller struck, Felix would have never guessed that the man was a food critic of all things. A food critic in a tweed jacket; how did Johnathan ever manage to look suspicious in that thing?
"We should do it," Harper said, suddenly.
"What if he's got some ulterior motive?" Felix asked.
"What ulterior motive would a food critic have?"
Felix thought about it. "Fair," he said after coming to the same conclusion Harper did. There'd be no harm in giving this thing a shot. That decided, he still had one order of business. "Harper, promise me that you won't tell anyone about my powers without my express permission. You heard what he said about that tip line," Felix took her hands and looked her in the eyes.
She nodded. "I promise, Felix."
Sighing, Felix reclined back in bed, looking up at the ceiling. Harper stuck around for a bit longer, but her shift started soon. Soon after she left, Felix's phone rang with a call from Christina. Felix answered: there'd be no denying her this time.
Thirty minutes of interrogation and fussing later, Felix managed to hang up the phone. He was trying to wrap his mind around too many things at once, and he felt the vanguard of a killer headache already.
He needed to hit things. Felix picked up his phone and dialed an oh-so-familiar number.
"Ivan, you got time?"