Anna poured the hot water over the oolong. She dipped the tea bag into the boiling water a couple of times, and carried it into her living room.
She looked out the window of her high-rise apartment, over what appeared to be a beautiful fall day down in the City.
Down below, it all looked the same. The river flowed gently through the heart of it, cool and blue, the traffic backed up, the horns blew.
It probably
was
all the same, she thought. After all this time, the City is probably just fine without the Spider.
She blew on her tea, and took the tea bag from the steeped brew. She put the tea bag into a trash can, and took a seat on her couch.
She hissed in pain, catching herself. Easy, Anna, she thought. You are almost all the way healed, but not quite yet.
Anna picked up a bottle of ibuprofen and shook herself out two. Pausing for a second, she shook out a third.
Finding the remote, she turned her television on. She put the three tablets of pain reliever in her mouth, and washed them down with the hot tea. Her body had healed itself for the most part by now, her mind had calmed a little bit, also.
She laid back, comfortable in a pair of black yoga pants and a loose sweatshirt. She scanned through the channels, absentmindedly, finding sitcoms, a lame nature documentary, even more lame talk shows, looking for nothing in particular.
But then she stopped.
"Who is the Power?" the television asked. Anna sat upright, spilling her hot tea on her slim leg.
Anna watched as the news played a clip of a woman. The woman was tall, dressed in a blue outfit with yellow trim and a red mask and cape. She had blonde hair that was billowing behind her in the wind, and Anna watched the woman stand directly in the middle of one of the busiest streets in the City.
In the clip, which seemed to have been taken on someone's cell phone, Anna watched as a car hurtled down the street towards the woman. The woman stood boldly in the middle of the road, one hand on her hip, the other held up in a stopping gesture.
Anna could hear the sirens blaring in the background.
But the car wasn't stopping, if anything, it sped towards the woman even faster. It seemed that it was going to drive right over the woman, crush her with its wheels, never slowing even to look back.
And then the car just...
exploded.
Or not so much exploded as crashed into something, some invisible force that crushed the front of the car, made one of the hub caps pop off, the entire rear wheels of the car leapt from the road at the power of the impact.
Anna sat bolt straight as she watched one of the doors of the car struggle to open, and a man fell out. Steam rose from the hood of the car as the radiator lost its coolant, boiling from the engine block.
The man stumbled out of the wreckage and pulled a pistol from his jacket. The camera was jerking around now as people on the street began to scream and run, and Anna could hear the shots begin to ring out.
Anna watched as the woman, still holding up her hand, walked towards the gunman with a steady and confident stride. The woman ignored the bullets, steadily walking towards the man.
The clip ended, and the newscasters began talking about how the Power- apparently what they had started calling her- was unhurt even after a half dozen bullets were fired at her. According to the broadcast, the woman had walked up to the man, taken his weapon, and knocked him out with a single blow.
The woman- the Power- was not there when the police arrived. No one saw her leave, she was just there one second, and gone the next.
"Who
is
the Power?" the television asked again.
Anna wondered that herself.
There was a knock on the door. Anna put her tea down, and jumped up to get it.
******************************
Anna opened the door, a wide smile on her face.
"Hi," she said. "Come on in."
Heather looked tired. Well, she
was
tired. It had been another long shift at City Hospital.
Anna took her by the hand, and led her inside the apartment.
"Would you like some tea?" Anna asked. "I just made a cup- the water is still hot, I think."
Heather smiled wearily.
"I just got off work," she said. "No tea. If you had any wine?"
Anna opened the refrigerator happily. She reached in, and pulled out a bottle. She made a show of presenting the bottle to the other woman, like how a sommelier might do at a pricy restaurant.
"Voila," Anna said. "Sweet wine for you. I told you I'd get you some. Riesling. You want some?"
"Pour me a glass," Heather said, and went past the kitchen into the living room. She went over the armchair and sat down, sinking into the deep padding, letting gravity release its hold on her body.
Anna found the corkscrew, and got the bottle open, and poured a glass for the nurse. She filled the glass a good way up, she knew Heather could use a good amount after a long shift, and padded into the living room of her apartment.
She handed the wine to Heather, and waited expectantly as Heather took a deep sip of it.
Heather looked up at Anna.
"Very good, sweetie," she said. "Good and sweet."
"I saw a thing on the news today," Anna said. "There was a woman, they were calling her 'the Power', and there was this car speeding at her- "
"Hold on," Heather said, holding up her hand. "Slow down. I just got here. Let me have some wine."
Anna blushed, embarrassed.
"I'm sorry."
"That's OK."
Heather looked out the window, early afternoon in the city, the sun wouldn't set for another couple of hours yet. There were white clouds dancing among the tall buildings, all framed against a blue sky. She felt at peace, comfortable.
Anna stood there awkwardly, not sure what to do. She watched Heather stare out her window, wondered what she was thinking. She watched Heather's breasts rise and fall, breathing shallowly.
"Maybe I'll have a glass of wine," Anna said after a few moments.
Heather turned and looked at Anna.
"Before you do that, sweetie?" Heather asked, tired, dreamily.
"Yes?"
"Will you take my shoes off my feet, please?" Heather stretched her strong legs out, flexing her feet.
Of course Anna would. Heather had been taking care of her for some time, helping her to get healthy again, holding her, bathing her. Anna didn't know how she could have coped without Heather's help.
Anna dropped down to the floor, kneeling. She unlaced one of the nurse's sensible white canvas shoes, and tossed it to the side. She reached her hand up Heather's pant leg, and found her sock, and peeled it down.
She did the same to the other foot.
Heather wiggled her free toes. She stretched out, and had a little sip of her wine.
She reached out her foot, and placed her foot in the center of Anna's chest, the force of the push setting Anna back on her heels somewhat.
"Will you give me a little foot rub, sweetie," Heather asked, looking down at Anna, deep in the other woman's eyes. "My dogs are barking."
Anna's eyes went wide; she didn't know what to say. Without saying a word, and without looking away from Heather, she put a hand on either side of the foot that was square between her breasts and began to rub.
"Oh, that's nice," the nurse said, and leaned back and closed her eyes. She put her glass of sweet wine to her full lips, and took a delicate sip.
Anna knelt on her carpet. She lowered her head and rubbed Heather's feet, her long black hair falling around the surprisingly long and delicate foot. She noticed Heather's toenail polish, faded and worn off for the most part. She ran her fingers lightly under Heather's arch.
Heather, her eyes still closed, let out a little moan. Her wine glass dangled lightly from her fingers.
She relaxed even further, sliding down further into Anna's easy chair.
"Kiss it," she said. "Kiss my foot."
Anna hesitated.
"Heather," she said.
In a flash, Heather sat up, slamming her wine glass on the table and grabbing a handful of Anna's hair. She twisted her hand in the other woman's hair, getting a tight grip, and pulled her face close. Anna arched her back as she was pulled face to face with the nurse.
"Kiss my fucking feet, Anna."
Anna looked Heather in the eyes for a moment, two moments, three moments.
She nodded her head.
Yes.
But Heather didn't let go of Anna's hair. She pushed Anna down by her head, closer to the carpet, and pressed her foot to Anna's mouth.
"Open your fucking lips," she hissed. "Kiss my motherfucking feet, you fucking bitch."
Anna opened her lips, and put a hesitant kiss on the top of Heather's foot.
"Kiss it again!"
She did.
