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Description
Chapter Four: Mine

Despite his calm exterior, Dexter was terribly excited at the notion of getting out of DexLabs for a day to go skating. He didn't care that a field trip for him to the local sports complex was a logistical nightmare for his security staff – it had been months since he had been permitted to leave his headquarters. Besides, dealing with moments like this was exactly what he paid them to do. Mandy was not pleased at the proposal, but the Boy Genius told her flat-out that he was going and invited the leader of Earth's Combined Forces to toss herself in the pool in the atrium if she didn't like it. Dexter was immensely valuable to earth – easily the greatest scientific genius devoted to this war and one of its primary financers – and as such he was very jealously guarded by layers and layers of security and defenses. Since he did not like going outside, most of the time he didn't care or even notice provided no one bothered him while he was working, but occasionally Dexter felt himself go a little stir-crazy (usually when Ben was around) and had to get out. The promise of learning something entirely new and in a completely unfamiliar setting was enough to give him an instant case of cabin fever.

Kilroy Green spent a large part of his day arranging the expedition. The Professor easily granted his permission for the trip once he understood the reasoning behind it. His knowing smile left Kilroy a little disconcerted. Utonium said nothing, but Green knew not to be fooled. An amused Patrick Lawrence Utonium was a creature to be feared and respected. This was either incredibly clever or incredibly stupid of him. Only time would tell, because the president of DexCorp certainly wasn't going to be forthcoming with information.

Security was not so understanding. He had booked the ice rink for Monday morning, figuring it would be time enough for Dexter to read up on skating and to arrange transporting his charge there. Dexter had eagerly dropped everything he was working on to plunge into the wide world of skating. By contrast, DexLabs Security had gone straight to high alert. The three security sergeants on duty during the day had practically howled at such short notice and immediately sent half a dozen officers to scout out the site and get copies of the arena's blueprints and called Sgt. Morton in on his day off. The only saving grace the head of security could see was that Dexter and Green had the ice to themselves – the demon had, at least, arranged to keep anyone else from reserving space until noon, gladly paying the hefty fee in order to keep prying eyes and strangers away from his student and probably saving his own life in the process. Other than that, Kilroy Green found himself the subject of many a cross look and growl, and got himself intensely disliked when they found out Dexter did not know how to skate and ran the risk of injury.

Just to be ornery – and because his day off and a lunch date with his girlfriend had been disrupted – Chip Morton dragged Green along for the ride when he went to see the ice rink for himself. Though they shared an odd sort of friendly rivalry and basically agreed to disagree on almost everything just for the fun of arguing, Green kept his usual digs and barbs to himself. They both knew that after the disaster that was yesterday, Chip had Green outclassed and outgunned.

"Skating," stated Chip tonelessly as he drove the short distance from DexLabs to the arena.

"Skating," confirmed Green in an equally bland voice.

"I thought your game was badminton."

Used to having his hobby thus maligned, Kilroy calmly said, "And in the winter, it was hockey."

He could feel the disbelief hanging heavy in the air. Chip opened his mouth to speak, but Kilroy beat him to it.

"Goalie."

Chip's eyebrow twitched, and that was the last thing said before they reached their destination. As with Utonium, Green wasn't sure if the sergeant – whose list of accomplishments started with graduating Annapolis and included service as a Navy SEAL, ten years as executive officer for the world's largest nuclear submarine, and heading DexLabs Security among other things - was impressed or just plain scared for his employer.

The Downtown Sports Arena was barely a year old and hadn't had a chance to get worn or dirty yet. Kilroy fondly remembered his college days as he stepped into the echoing space. The smell was the same, as was the brisk humidity of the ice rink. They met with the manager and were given leave to scout out the complex once he was made aware of his client's identity. Green followed Chip all through the place and finally onto the ice. The blond frowned all around, but especially at Kilroy.

"This place is an ambush waiting to happen," grumbled Morton, studying the tiered seating.

"It's a skating rink," Green grumbled right back.

There were a few people using the ice, mostly junior and teen figure skaters and their coaches. For the most part they ignored the DexLabs employees, being intent on their lesson, and Green and Morton kept their distance, but a few waiting parents grew agitated at the sight of a fire demon near their children, as if Kilroy might spontaneously combust or go berserk and pounce some hapless figure skater for brunch.

"Hey!"

"Oh, here we go," muttered Green, bracing himself. He was quite spoiled by DexLabs and the respect and regard with which he was treated. It was easy to forget that outside that atmosphere, not many people were tolerant of monsters and demons and old fears reigned. The fact that he was a demon had nothing to do with his position there, and except for occasionally serving as guinea pig for Dr. Cardon's research into monster medicine, it had never been an issue.

But not everyone was as enlightened as Dexter and there was no denying Kilroy's appearance and dress were at best startling. He sighed, preparing to face off against prejudice and ignorance while forcing himself to smile all the while, when Chip called it.

"Mine."

To Green's complete surprise, Chip turned and faced the man standing at the edge of the ice. He had been in full-bore XO mode all day and was in no mood for stupidity, which was unfortunate for the man.

"Problem?" demanded Chip coolly.

"Yeah!" speaking to Chip, he pointed at Green. "You got no business being here. Get off the ice!"

"You have no business telling us what to do and we'll leave when we're ready." He turned his back and went back to observing the logistical possibilities of the rink, perfectly aware that the man was storming across the ice at them. Close up, they immediately noted that he was short, gnarled, and bitter. He wore a uniform for the arena and by his disheveled state, Green assumed he was either a janitor or in maintenance.

"We don't want your kind here!" hissed the man, pointing a finger at Kilroy.

"You got something against astrophysicists?" demanded Morton.

"I got something against monsters!"

"So do I, and I'm looking at one right now," countered the sergeant, glaring hard at the man. "Your boss gave us permission to check out the whole building. Unless you want more trouble than you can afford, I suggest you back off."

The man gave Morton a derisive look that was significantly less impressive than the sergeant's steely frown. "What are you, you his bodyguard?"

"Yes," said Chip in a tone of voice that instantly negated any sort of comeback. Getting into his new, self-appointed role, he shifted to impose himself between the man's anger and Kilroy, daring him to do or say anything more. The fact that he was in body armor from boots to baseball cap and packing multiple weapons ranging from Null-Void blaster to a conventional firearm to two knives that were visible (and four that weren't) seemed to register with the janitor. Kilroy forced himself not to smile. One man meant to intimidate, the other was simply intimidating. It didn't take a genius to know they had a winner.

"Thanks," Green said after the man stalked off, muttering.

"The pleasure was mine," Morton replied. "You get that a lot?"

He sighed. "Every time I walk out the door."

"People are jerks," the sergeant stated simply.

"Monsters are worse."

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

The afternoon was smoother than the morning, but Kilroy was so involved with arranging transportation and getting clearance and trying to calm down the owner of the sports complex at the notion of armed security in his building that the day was gone before he realized it. He had forgotten to eat lunch and he'd hardly taken any opportunities to sit down, and when he finally left that evening he was feeling the effects of such a busy day. He didn't even recall the events of the morning until he reached his car and saw that his sunglasses were gone. Slumping in his seat, he had never been quite so glad before that it was Friday. After the past few days, he needed to sleep and do his best to relax. He was exhausted.

Well, if nothing else he had made Dexter blitheringly happy and had given him a lot to look forward to. For all he was content in his life and family, the young genius rarely had the opportunity to act his age and engage in things most normal boys did as a matter of course. As he started up the Spitfire, Kilroy was determined to make the outing as much fun as educational. Well, maybe more fun . . .

He himself was an excellent skater. Back in college he had been recruited to play for their ice hockey team, which he had done for three years. The then-captain of the hockey team had been in his fraternity, and it turned out that he wanted Kilroy for the pure intimidation factor that green skin, pointed teeth, and long horns offered. He had surprised the team of rowdies by being very capable and ended up playing in a number of positions, his best and favorite being goalie. The violent release the game offered was refreshing and he had enjoyed the rough camaraderie of his teammates - bias against demons had given them many welcome excuses to duke it out on the ice and, if they were lucky, at a bar afterwards.

By the time he parked the car in the garage he felt as if he had run a marathon. Dragging himself upstairs, Kilroy was greeted by a hungry cat that twined herself around his boots and almost tripped him flat. To preserve his own life he carried Pepper into the kitchen and he smiled as she purred in anticipation of dinner. At the moment he had no interest in food. Once Pepper was fed he just dropped onto the sofa in the living room and leaned his head back. Closing his eye, Green gave himself over to resting his weary body.

He stirred when Pepper joined him on the sofa. Purring and happy, she lay against his leg and proceeded to wash her paws. Kilroy smiled, laying his hand on her soft fur before he lapsed back into his warm, heavy stupor.

Sleep was tantalizingly close and he knew that if he stayed still much longer he'd fall asleep. Too comfortable to move, he propped his feet up on the table and decided he didn't care, watching the shadows deepen and lengthen across the room.

At first he wasn't sure if it was a dream or not when it seemed that a shadow moved on the opposite side of the living room. Through half-closed eyes Kilroy gazed at the spot, curious and trying to ascertain if it was real or his tired imagination. He had no sense of a threat, just a presence not unlike Fulligah.

A dark form detached itself from the dim corner, tall and lithe. It took Kilroy's tired mind a few moments to recognize the form – Him. At this point he had no notion if this was real or a dream, but at least the other demon made for an agreeable – though odd – sight. There were worse things to dream about in Kilroy Green's life.

As he watched through barely-opened eyes, Him drew closer, moving with grace and purpose. Pepper raised her head, letting out a small trill and a warning meow as Him left the shadows and stepped to the center of the room.

"Shh," ordered Him, lifting a claw to his lips and glaring at the cat. Pepper was not impressed by the Ultimate Evil and meowed again. Him shook his head, leaning over to study Kilroy.

There was no sense of malice from the older demon. The fact that Pepper just stared spoke volumes. Fulligah, aware of Kilroy's fatigue, simply stayed warm and soft. Had there been a threat the enzeru would have known and warned him. For a minute or more Him gazed at Kilroy from boots to horns, a smile playing on his lips. Then he reached out and set something on the end table beside Green. Pepper watched his every move suspiciously, but did not budge from beneath Kilroy's hand.

"Sweet dreams, Kilroy," whispered Him fondly, backing away into the shadows again. A little sorry to lose Him's company, Kilroy lapsed into sleep. So tired was he that he did not stir until early the next morning. At dawn he woke up on the sofa with Pepper's warm and comfortable weight on his chest. She roused as he petted her head, a purr from deep in her throat bidding him good morning. Rested and content, he spent a few minutes spoiling his already spoiled cat.

He was hungry. Picking up Pepper, he cradled her in his arms as he stood, grimacing as he realized he'd slept in his boots. "Breakfast?" he asked. "I'm starv-"

He paused, his gaze falling on the side table. His sun glasses were there by the lamp. It hadn't been a dream. He smiled, lifting the glasses and remembering the barely-believable sequence of events since Thursday morning. He knew full well he hadn't seen the last of Him, but at the moment that prospect didn't seem so troublesome.

Description
Chapter Four: Mine

Despite his calm exterior, Dexter was terribly excited at the notion of getting out of DexLabs for a day to go skating. He didn't care that a field trip for him to the local sports complex was a logistical nightmare for his security staff – it had been months since he had been permitted to leave his headquarters. Besides, dealing with moments like this was exactly what he paid them to do. Mandy was not pleased at the proposal, but the Boy Genius told her flat-out that he was going and invited the leader of Earth's Combined Forces to toss herself in the pool in the atrium if she didn't like it. Dexter was immensely valuable to earth – easily the greatest scientific genius devoted to this war and one of its primary financers – and as such he was very jealously guarded by layers and layers of security and defenses. Since he did not like going outside, most of the time he didn't care or even notice provided no one bothered him while he was working, but occasionally Dexter felt himself go a little stir-crazy (usually when Ben was around) and had to get out. The promise of learning something entirely new and in a completely unfamiliar setting was enough to give him an instant case of cabin fever.

Kilroy Green spent a large part of his day arranging the expedition. The Professor easily granted his permission for the trip once he understood the reasoning behind it. His knowing smile left Kilroy a little disconcerted. Utonium said nothing, but Green knew not to be fooled. An amused Patrick Lawrence Utonium was a creature to be feared and respected. This was either incredibly clever or incredibly stupid of him. Only time would tell, because the president of DexCorp certainly wasn't going to be forthcoming with information.

Security was not so understanding. He had booked the ice rink for Monday morning, figuring it would be time enough for Dexter to read up on skating and to arrange transporting his charge there. Dexter had eagerly dropped everything he was working on to plunge into the wide world of skating. By contrast, DexLabs Security had gone straight to high alert. The three security sergeants on duty during the day had practically howled at such short notice and immediately sent half a dozen officers to scout out the site and get copies of the arena's blueprints and called Sgt. Morton in on his day off. The only saving grace the head of security could see was that Dexter and Green had the ice to themselves – the demon had, at least, arranged to keep anyone else from reserving space until noon, gladly paying the hefty fee in order to keep prying eyes and strangers away from his student and probably saving his own life in the process. Other than that, Kilroy Green found himself the subject of many a cross look and growl, and got himself intensely disliked when they found out Dexter did not know how to skate and ran the risk of injury.

Just to be ornery – and because his day off and a lunch date with his girlfriend had been disrupted – Chip Morton dragged Green along for the ride when he went to see the ice rink for himself. Though they shared an odd sort of friendly rivalry and basically agreed to disagree on almost everything just for the fun of arguing, Green kept his usual digs and barbs to himself. They both knew that after the disaster that was yesterday, Chip had Green outclassed and outgunned.

"Skating," stated Chip tonelessly as he drove the short distance from DexLabs to the arena.

"Skating," confirmed Green in an equally bland voice.

"I thought your game was badminton."

Used to having his hobby thus maligned, Kilroy calmly said, "And in the winter, it was hockey."

He could feel the disbelief hanging heavy in the air. Chip opened his mouth to speak, but Kilroy beat him to it.

"Goalie."

Chip's eyebrow twitched, and that was the last thing said before they reached their destination. As with Utonium, Green wasn't sure if the sergeant – whose list of accomplishments started with graduating Annapolis and included service as a Navy SEAL, ten years as executive officer for the world's largest nuclear submarine, and heading DexLabs Security among other things - was impressed or just plain scared for his employer.

The Downtown Sports Arena was barely a year old and hadn't had a chance to get worn or dirty yet. Kilroy fondly remembered his college days as he stepped into the echoing space. The smell was the same, as was the brisk humidity of the ice rink. They met with the manager and were given leave to scout out the complex once he was made aware of his client's identity. Green followed Chip all through the place and finally onto the ice. The blond frowned all around, but especially at Kilroy.

"This place is an ambush waiting to happen," grumbled Morton, studying the tiered seating.

"It's a skating rink," Green grumbled right back.

There were a few people using the ice, mostly junior and teen figure skaters and their coaches. For the most part they ignored the DexLabs employees, being intent on their lesson, and Green and Morton kept their distance, but a few waiting parents grew agitated at the sight of a fire demon near their children, as if Kilroy might spontaneously combust or go berserk and pounce some hapless figure skater for brunch.

"Hey!"

"Oh, here we go," muttered Green, bracing himself. He was quite spoiled by DexLabs and the respect and regard with which he was treated. It was easy to forget that outside that atmosphere, not many people were tolerant of monsters and demons and old fears reigned. The fact that he was a demon had nothing to do with his position there, and except for occasionally serving as guinea pig for Dr. Cardon's research into monster medicine, it had never been an issue.

But not everyone was as enlightened as Dexter and there was no denying Kilroy's appearance and dress were at best startling. He sighed, preparing to face off against prejudice and ignorance while forcing himself to smile all the while, when Chip called it.

"Mine."

To Green's complete surprise, Chip turned and faced the man standing at the edge of the ice. He had been in full-bore XO mode all day and was in no mood for stupidity, which was unfortunate for the man.

"Problem?" demanded Chip coolly.

"Yeah!" speaking to Chip, he pointed at Green. "You got no business being here. Get off the ice!"

"You have no business telling us what to do and we'll leave when we're ready." He turned his back and went back to observing the logistical possibilities of the rink, perfectly aware that the man was storming across the ice at them. Close up, they immediately noted that he was short, gnarled, and bitter. He wore a uniform for the arena and by his disheveled state, Green assumed he was either a janitor or in maintenance.

"We don't want your kind here!" hissed the man, pointing a finger at Kilroy.

"You got something against astrophysicists?" demanded Morton.

"I got something against monsters!"

"So do I, and I'm looking at one right now," countered the sergeant, glaring hard at the man. "Your boss gave us permission to check out the whole building. Unless you want more trouble than you can afford, I suggest you back off."

The man gave Morton a derisive look that was significantly less impressive than the sergeant's steely frown. "What are you, you his bodyguard?"

"Yes," said Chip in a tone of voice that instantly negated any sort of comeback. Getting into his new, self-appointed role, he shifted to impose himself between the man's anger and Kilroy, daring him to do or say anything more. The fact that he was in body armor from boots to baseball cap and packing multiple weapons ranging from Null-Void blaster to a conventional firearm to two knives that were visible (and four that weren't) seemed to register with the janitor. Kilroy forced himself not to smile. One man meant to intimidate, the other was simply intimidating. It didn't take a genius to know they had a winner.

"Thanks," Green said after the man stalked off, muttering.

"The pleasure was mine," Morton replied. "You get that a lot?"

He sighed. "Every time I walk out the door."

"People are jerks," the sergeant stated simply.

"Monsters are worse."

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

The afternoon was smoother than the morning, but Kilroy was so involved with arranging transportation and getting clearance and trying to calm down the owner of the sports complex at the notion of armed security in his building that the day was gone before he realized it. He had forgotten to eat lunch and he'd hardly taken any opportunities to sit down, and when he finally left that evening he was feeling the effects of such a busy day. He didn't even recall the events of the morning until he reached his car and saw that his sunglasses were gone. Slumping in his seat, he had never been quite so glad before that it was Friday. After the past few days, he needed to sleep and do his best to relax. He was exhausted.

Well, if nothing else he had made Dexter blitheringly happy and had given him a lot to look forward to. For all he was content in his life and family, the young genius rarely had the opportunity to act his age and engage in things most normal boys did as a matter of course. As he started up the Spitfire, Kilroy was determined to make the outing as much fun as educational. Well, maybe more fun . . .

He himself was an excellent skater. Back in college he had been recruited to play for their ice hockey team, which he had done for three years. The then-captain of the hockey team had been in his fraternity, and it turned out that he wanted Kilroy for the pure intimidation factor that green skin, pointed teeth, and long horns offered. He had surprised the team of rowdies by being very capable and ended up playing in a number of positions, his best and favorite being goalie. The violent release the game offered was refreshing and he had enjoyed the rough camaraderie of his teammates - bias against demons had given them many welcome excuses to duke it out on the ice and, if they were lucky, at a bar afterwards.

By the time he parked the car in the garage he felt as if he had run a marathon. Dragging himself upstairs, Kilroy was greeted by a hungry cat that twined herself around his boots and almost tripped him flat. To preserve his own life he carried Pepper into the kitchen and he smiled as she purred in anticipation of dinner. At the moment he had no interest in food. Once Pepper was fed he just dropped onto the sofa in the living room and leaned his head back. Closing his eye, Green gave himself over to resting his weary body.

He stirred when Pepper joined him on the sofa. Purring and happy, she lay against his leg and proceeded to wash her paws. Kilroy smiled, laying his hand on her soft fur before he lapsed back into his warm, heavy stupor.

Sleep was tantalizingly close and he knew that if he stayed still much longer he'd fall asleep. Too comfortable to move, he propped his feet up on the table and decided he didn't care, watching the shadows deepen and lengthen across the room.

At first he wasn't sure if it was a dream or not when it seemed that a shadow moved on the opposite side of the living room. Through half-closed eyes Kilroy gazed at the spot, curious and trying to ascertain if it was real or his tired imagination. He had no sense of a threat, just a presence not unlike Fulligah.

A dark form detached itself from the dim corner, tall and lithe. It took Kilroy's tired mind a few moments to recognize the form – Him. At this point he had no notion if this was real or a dream, but at least the other demon made for an agreeable – though odd – sight. There were worse things to dream about in Kilroy Green's life.

As he watched through barely-opened eyes, Him drew closer, moving with grace and purpose. Pepper raised her head, letting out a small trill and a warning meow as Him left the shadows and stepped to the center of the room.

"Shh," ordered Him, lifting a claw to his lips and glaring at the cat. Pepper was not impressed by the Ultimate Evil and meowed again. Him shook his head, leaning over to study Kilroy.

There was no sense of malice from the older demon. The fact that Pepper just stared spoke volumes. Fulligah, aware of Kilroy's fatigue, simply stayed warm and soft. Had there been a threat the enzeru would have known and warned him. For a minute or more Him gazed at Kilroy from boots to horns, a smile playing on his lips. Then he reached out and set something on the end table beside Green. Pepper watched his every move suspiciously, but did not budge from beneath Kilroy's hand.

"Sweet dreams, Kilroy," whispered Him fondly, backing away into the shadows again. A little sorry to lose Him's company, Kilroy lapsed into sleep. So tired was he that he did not stir until early the next morning. At dawn he woke up on the sofa with Pepper's warm and comfortable weight on his chest. She roused as he petted her head, a purr from deep in her throat bidding him good morning. Rested and content, he spent a few minutes spoiling his already spoiled cat.

He was hungry. Picking up Pepper, he cradled her in his arms as he stood, grimacing as he realized he'd slept in his boots. "Breakfast?" he asked. "I'm starv-"

He paused, his gaze falling on the side table. His sun glasses were there by the lamp. It hadn't been a dream. He smiled, lifting the glasses and remembering the barely-believable sequence of events since Thursday morning. He knew full well he hadn't seen the last of Him, but at the moment that prospect didn't seem so troublesome.