PART 15

It would be no mistake to say that Ben Tennyson had gotten used to seeing females storming out of his room in a mood the heat of which could melt metal. A week before it was Gwen, and now Charmcaster. And all what was left for him to do was to keep his gaze directed at their exit path. The two lasses sure knew how to make an exit with a scandal. And as always, Ben ended up being the one left alone in the consequences of the situation. Yet unlike Gwen's case, in which she had told him everything on her mind with no interpretations needed, Caroline's scene laid the floors for some philosophical thinking.

Her criticism of his failed suicide attempt was replayed in his memory like a DVD. She had a point; that really was very stupid on his behalf. For years he, Ben Tennyson, the shapeshifting superhero, had been the humiliation of all criminals he battled. He had stood against Vilgax's unparalleled might and Animo's monstrous minions, the deadly magic of Hex and Ghostfreak's dark abilities, the cunning of Darkstar and the numerical as well as hi-tech superiority of the Forever Knights. He turned victorious in all the incidents he remembered. He scattered their plans like dust in the wind and mixed the culprits with dirt.

And here, he, who seemed to be almost undefeatable, almost took away his own life. What was he thinking about? He had not thought about the rejoice of the villains when they would have found out that he was dead. He knew that kind; they would have laughed at the reason of his death—at him—if they had found out. Spanked like the brats they were by the living hero, they'd try taking their late revenge even on his corpse. The Circus Freak could write graffiti on his grave; Albedo piss on it; and Animo give the bones to his pets to chew. They all were twisted and perverted enough to attempt it—he did not doubt that for a second. Even if he'd lose all other reasons to live, live he still would so that this lot, alien or earthen, could not cheer and clap their hands in triumph.

He stood up, all thoughts of suicide cleared from his head. True, Gwen had turned him down and she still had a hold on his heart, but he could live with it. In a way, he had spent almost two years that way.

Suddenly, he bolted to the door, himself clearly not understanding what he was doing. Opening it roughly, Ben got out before descending down the stairs. The next door to be opened was the front one. He peaked outside. Ben saw the familiar figure distancing, becoming tinier and more fragile to the gaze as she did. It startled him that Charmcaster did not use a spell to simply teleport herself to the desired location, preferring the old-fashioned, millennia old way of exit—by walking. He still had time.

He dashed forward like a sportsman on a marathon. It took only a couple flashing moments before he was able catch up to her. He grabbed her by the wrist just as she turned around.

"Tennyson, let go of me!" she shouted, anger still dominating her stance. Caroline attempted to pull her hand out of his grasp, yet his hold turned up to be more solid than she had expected.

"Caroline, we need to talk," Ben said calmly.

"And what makes you think I wish to talk to you?" she whispered through gritted teeth.

She brought her hand to slap him again, however, this time he was prepared; he caught her by her other wrist again.

"Tennyson!" she did not quit her attempts of freeing herself, which, to him looked as amusing as those of a child.

"Caroline, listen. You were right about what you just said in my house," he confessed.

The struggle ceased, yet the enraged gaze his opponent was granting him did not soften.

"I thought over your words, and they do make sense. Killing oneself for a reason like that would have been incredibly stupid. You were the voice of reason."

He saw the wrinkles of dissatisfaction crossed on her forehead smoothening. Ben smirked; that meant she was calming down.

"You did not fail me, Caroline, all of this was just a misunderstanding," just to give more support to his words, the young man came down on his knees, still holding her by the wrists, "sorry about that."

"You do realize that the standing on your knees part isn't essential," Charmcaster said. She looked at the people passing on the other side of the street, wondering what the whole scene looked like to them from a distance.

The young sorceress sighed.

"Fine, Ben. As long as you learned your lesson."

Ben got off his knees.

"Does this mean you're not giving up as you threatened earlier?" he asked.

"No," was the reply, accompanied by another sigh.

He finally released her hands.

"Come on, we need to chat," he said, summoning her to follow him towards her house with a gesture. She did as expected.

The moment they were inside and the door closed, Ben dedicated to her his full attention. The young man wrapped his hands around her torso, swiftly but gently pressing her to the wall. Just like that he pressed his lips to hers.

A familiar sensation revisited her. Now that was the Ben she had gotten used to in the last couple of weeks; maybe screwed up, but passionate, unpredictable, and enthusiastic. That was an indication of progress, especially taking into account the fact that she had to save a love-torn wreck just slightly earlier. Ben played with her lips, savoring the taste that he missed during the mission.

After several fervent seconds he tore his mouth away from hers, allowing himself and her to catch their breaths.

"I thought you wanted to chat with me?" she said playfully, as she made another deep breath.

"Well, we're chatting this very moment, aren't we?" Ben smirked.

His kisses then came down to her neck. Caroline raised her chin up, giving him more territory to 'work on'. Her eyes were closed, her breathing heavy.

Yet her companion was not thinking of limiting to kissing only. She opened her eyes as she heard him unzip his jacket. He threw it to the floor before doing the same to his T-shirt.

She knew what he wanted, and she knew she would not deny him. She began stripping herself. Once the final article of clothes was removed, Ben again took her by the wrist pulling her with him to the living room. He accommodated her on a sofa, himself on his hands and knees just above her. He entered her simultaneously with another kiss.

Ben could not control his passion—now he himself was under the control of the flaming feeling. He thrust into his partner, the gasps and moans Caroline released during their intercourse added more to his enjoyment.

He did not care in these moments about the world that began just a step from the sofa. If his parents made an unexpected return home, their son engaged in a sexual act with a former representative of his rogues gallery would be the first thing they see upon entering the room.

The pace of his thrusts changed several times in the encounter, yet he always received the same welcome in her depts. Her fingers stroke his back and she had wrapped her legs around his waist, giving the impression that a bit more and they would simply merge into each other.

"Caroline," he whispered her name without a purpose, the first real word among his and her moans, yet he got no similar reply.

They reached their orgasms at the same time.

Ben lay for some time on the sofa with his silver-haired partner in his embrace before he got up to get a glass of water from in the kitchen. He asked whether she wanted one as well, but her answer was a polite refusal. Not bothering to dress up, Ben went to the kitchen.

As he was emptying his glass, he could not avoid thinking how distant the problem that was breaking him in the first half of the day had become. He had to admit—he never denied it the first part, for that matter—Charmcaster had a positive sway on him, and perhaps she was fate's gift sent to him for saving the universe so many times.

He felt hardening as he was thinking about it.

One more round wouldn't be bad, he thought before exiting the kitchen.

He saw her lying on the sofa on her stomach. Ben admired her body—the whole scene gave the impression of being painted on canvas. He bowed in order to check whether she had fallen asleep. He thought it was the case for a moment, however, her eyelids slowly opened.

"Ben," a light smile crossed her face.

Ben put his hand on her bare back; her skin was smooth and warm. Patting her, his hand slid to her buttock. He took his position above her and not receiving a protest, made his way inside her; she was tight. Charmcaster released a loud moan and clawed her fingers into the sofa's fabric.

—

Ben woke up in his own bed in the morning. He turned his head to the side, finding his companion next to him, her snow-white hair blending with the pillow of the same color. They had taken their activities to his room in the evening. Caroline looked so peaceful when she slept. Ben ran his finger down her face, from temple to chin. He did not break her slumber. The young woman mumbled something in her slumber and turned to her side.

Ben chuckled quietly.

Then his cell phone rang.

He got out of bed and in a quick pace reached the table where he had left it. The screen displayed the word 'Grandpa' on it.

"Yes," the young hero answered.

"Ben, we need you at the Plumber HQ as soon as possible," Grandpa's voice sounded intense through the phone, "the Forever Knights have launched an attack on the headquarters, and I believe they brought their siege weapons with them."

"I'll be there in ten minutes," Ben replied.

"Got it. Over and out," Grandpa concluded and hung up.

Cursing silently, Ben walked to his pile of clothes—he would not go there butt-naked even in alien form.

"Something up again?" he heard Caroline's half-sleepy voice as he picked up his underwear.

He turned to her, spotting the beauty standing on the knees on his bed.

"Need to go down and sort out a problem with the Forever Knights," he said.

Caroline smiled understandably; it was nice to see Ben again dedicated to his work.

"I suppose I'll see you later today," she said.

"I bet you will," Ben gave her one of his cheerful grins.

They both dressed up and saying 'bye' went their own ways: the young hero slammed the extraterrestrial watch on his wrist that turned him into the half-bird half-reptilian hybrid 'Jetray', while she made her exit in the traditional way of the spellcasters, teleportation.

Caroline turned up at her apartment. She did not know what to do with herself; it was her day off, and the lack of any work or leisure activity usually made her suffer from boredom. She sat down in a chair and closed her eyes.

The tales of her past flickered in front of her in her mind.

She once again saw her uncle clad in his dark garment studying some artifact he had stolen; she could not even say to what specific time this memory belonged to. The next one was of herself standing with her guardians, the stone golems, by her sides, looking at a portal open above the ground. She remembered that one: it was when she attempted to use Gwen's boyfriend against her.

Yet it was no longer that way. The tides of the great river of Time had carried both her uncle and the golems into the past, from which no means of escape would ever be invented.

But that did not bother her.

For two years a question raised on its own in the darkest parts in the back of her mind: did she really make the right choice when she gave up her old ways and forsook the name 'Charmcaster'?

She was now certain it was for the best.

The sorceress smiled.

For many years she had been confused by her emotions, unable to interpret them all; she could not name the reason why, but possibly for the first time in her life Caroline felt truly happy.