Agent BlueBird

Chapter 8-The painter

Rebecca and her parents just ordered their celebratory burgers accompanied by milkshakes and are sitting in the booth at The Grill, talking about the training program and their abilities when Kyan walks past and does a little salute with two fingers. In return Rebecca's parents give him a wave but Rebecca just sits motionless, looking at him. Her annoyance starts rising again at the mere sight of him.

"What is with that guy?" Rebecca asks, her annoyance clear in her tone. She stares at him as he struts proudly out of the restaurant.

"He's... Something else. He is sort of an odd one out in his family. He's the only one that developed special abilities. And he probably has the most unique ability of all. At a meeting with other agencies, they said he is like the prince of our kind." Rebecca snorts at her father's statement.

"Please, he's everything but a prince. He is so arrogant and rude." She thinks back to their first encounter just moments ago.

"Now now, we don't know what his circumstances are," her mother defends him.

"Actually, we do. Which gives us all the more reason to not judge him," Rebecca's father corrects her. Rebecca frowns at her parents and their words but keeps her mouth shut. A sudden curiosity starts to grow as she wonders what her parents could possibly mean.

"Let's talk about your training program," her father changes the subject. "You are still going to go to school, but after school is over, you are to come over here immediately. We will work out what you do on which days later." Her mother explains, changing the tone of the conversation to a professional one. "For now, you come here after school, you get mental ability training from me and then you go to your father for physical training with Kyan."

"What? No! I don't want to do training with him," Rebecca protests.

"And why not?" Her father asks sternly.

"Well first of all he is more experienced than me, so shouldn't he be like in a higher-level class? Also, that training outfit is way to skimpy to wear in front of him!" She cringes at the thought of him seeing her in that skintight outfit.

"To answer your question, yes he should be in a higher-level class. But unfortunately, we don't have enough students to make different levels and also that training outfit is that way for flexibility." Her father explains pointedly.

"Can't I wear a track suit? I can also stretch in that," she suggests, dropping the subject of separate classes.

"I don't understand what the problem is, he already saw you in your underwear," her mother says with a shrug of her shoulders, thinking that she needs to address the situation with him later.

"What! How do you know about that? Did you use your ability?" Rebecca demands, already burning with embarrassment that her mother knows what happened.

"No, I told you I never use it on you. It was all over both your faces. Also, I heard shouting come from the bathroom and soon after, you came out." Her mother starts giggling at her ashamed daughter, who is now covering her face with her hands. Her father does not look as amused with the situation though. He will have to have a talk with Kyan later about privacy rules.

A three days later, after things have sunken in and their schedules have been sorted out, Rebecca and her mother start searching for a painter; one they can truly trust with their secret. They were searching for a painter when they came upon an old family friend who is a painter himself. They settle on a day during the following week to meet with him to find out if he knows anything about the family secret and if they could possibly hire him as a painter.

The following week they go to The Grill to meet the painter, his name is Francois. When they walk into The Grill, they immediately spot Francois, he is wearing lime-colored skinny jeans, a white golf shirt and a vest slung over his back.

He has such perfectly styled blonde hair, that Rebecca starts feeling bad about her hair which she did not even comb this morning. She drags a hand through her hair in attempt to make it look better, but her fingers get tangled in her slightly curly hair. She takes her hand out of her hair and stares at her wringing hands shyly. She takes a deep breath, because she knows what is to come if this guy is capable of doing the painting of her veins. She will have to bare her chest to him so he will be able to see her veins. As they approach him, he stands up to greet them. As soon as he speaks relief covers Rebecca like fog over the mountains. He has a refined voice and stands with one hip pushed way out as he engages with her mother.

"Hello, I'm Francois," he says with a French accent and a wave of his hand.

"I'm Rachel." Her mother sticks out her hand to greet him. "We asked you to meet us here, because we want you to paint something for us." She moves into the bunk where he was sitting when they came in and sits down.

"Obviously," Rebecca mumbles as she moves in next to her mother. A half drank cup of coffee sits on the table. Rebecca's mother pushes the cup slightly away from her and rubs her hands against one another as if to rub the dirt off. Francois sits down opposite Rebecca's mother and draws his cup towards him with a sheepish expression.

"I was early and decided to have a cup while I waited." He says as he turns the cup in a circle. Her mother smiles at him and a small silence passes between them.

Rebecca's mother puts her elbows on the table and leans forward. "You are an old family friend and so were your father and grandfather. For this reason, we chose to contact you and ask you to make a painting for us. But first, are you aware of our family history?" Her mother hints at their secret and looks at Francois intently to see his expression. Francois lifts one eyebrow and nods slowly in response.

"Well then you know exactly what we need you to do. And to make sure you understand, I must tell you that my daughter is the 25th generation of Kelly female." The Francois' eyes widen, and he turns them to Rebecca.

"Has she 'developed'?" He asks, not looking away from Rebecca. She looks down uncomfortably and draws circles with her finger on the table. His steel gaze is making an already uncomfortable situation so much more so.

"Yes, only recently. Luckily, she came to us right away and we have put her in the training program," her mother says, also looking at her now.

Guilt about what actually happened ceases Rebecca and she hesitates slightly before saying, "Actually, I didn't come right away. It was about two weeks after I first noticed something different that I came to you." She looks up slowly, afraid of the response she will get.

"Honey, for us that is early. Some only tell another person after many years. They are called 'rogue metahumans' and a danger to our kind. They have not been taught to control their powers. Now, you can see how that might be a problem. They also put us in danger of being discovered."

"Being discovered?" Rebecca sits up straight, her back pushing against the bench chair. She can't help feeling a bit unnerved by her mother's words.

"Yes, humans don't know about us. Maybe a few like Kyan's parents, but almost none. Except the ones who hunt us."

"Hunt us?" Rebecca asks as her eyes widen in shock.

"We have enemies Becca. People do bad things to people like us, they capture us and do experiments on us-" Her mother comes to an abrupt stop, and she looks around. "This is not the time or the place to talk about this though." Her mother realises that they have completely forgotten about Francois, who is sitting with his elbows on the table. His head is resting on the back of his hands, and he bats his eyelashes at Rebecca and her mother. They both stare at him, amazed by how blasé he is in the midst of all of this strange information.