Chapter 14: Unseen and Desired

The arcane light pulsed and breathed from the inscribed circles and symbols, and suffused the room with an unearthly glow. In the center of the table lay a small bloodied cell phone wrapped in a loose black velvet ribbon. Lines shifted, and symbols quivered, and Lady Zamora scrutinized the designs carefully.

A line snaked from the center to the opposing symbols, flaring briefly.

"The reconciliation of Fire and Earth begins," she said, reading the symbols.

The rest of the day just flew by for Joey. Well, most of it did.

It started off fun. He was having so much fun, he barely even remembered that he was working off community service hours. Tricia started by teaching him basic camera operations, explaining light balance, warm and cold filters, zoom control, framing and panning techniques, and lighting. Joey took to framing naturally, having a keenly honed instinct for visual style as an artist. Camera work suited him, and he decided he wanted to do more work with a camera in the future. And he found it was fun to work with her on something constructive.

They then spent an hour interviewing a young woman, barely into her twenties, who told of her story of life on the streets. It was one Joey had heard before. Some street kids were just kicked out of their houses by irresponsible and uncaring parents, and Vickie Boyle was one of many. Having no one to turn to, she had resorted to prostitution to survive. She was a plain, haggard looking girl with haunted eyes and scars and she emitted an aura of hopelessness. Tricia was cautious with her, carefully pulling details of her life with exploitive pimps and clients, beatings and abuse. Joey could see Tricia's eyes tear as they heard her story, but Vickie didn't cry. It was not as if her pain was diminished in any way; it was just that she simply had no tears left.

When they finished, Joey watched as Tricia gave Vickie some money and a recommendation for the local House of Ruth, a shelter for battered women.

After the interview, Tricia just busied herself with other jobs, cleaning and distributing food and clothing, and didn't seem to have much time to spend with him. So he decided to spend some time with some of the younger kids in the shelter, reading with them as best he could and playing games with them, and watching them as their mothers worked with councilors.

Their shift eventually ended, sooner than he expected, and Joey packed Tricia's camera gear into the backseat of her car. As they started driving home, the familiar uncomfortable silence filled the car again. All through his punishment there were these long tortuous silences that accompanied their drives to and from work, but now that they were on good terms again, Joey didn't understand why the silence returned. He didn't see the look of anger and impatience on her face now, but there was a preoccupation instead. He could see something in her eyes, but he didn't know what it was. He decided to break the silence.

"I had fun today."

She nodded. No change.

He paused, and tried a different subject. "You know, I was thinking. If Snow Angel is home with Annie, maybe she could work on my hands."

Another nod, but no other reaction. He had expected her to say something like "Only if you take her to heal those boys you hurt," but instead it was just nothing.

He sighed and tried again. "I was also thinking that after the community service hours are done, I want to keep working at the shelter. I like helping them, and I like working with you."

She bit her lip, sighed slightly, and nodded. There was no other response.

Joey sighed and just looked out the window, watching the streets pass by. He didn't know what else to do. The silence had conquered again.

Tricia suddenly signaled, pulled over onto the shoulder, and stopped the car under a bridge. Joey stared at her. Her face was a mask of determination again. "What is it?" he asked.

She held the steering wheel tightly, and lowered her head down to rest on the wheel. Joey could see her knuckles turn white as she squeezed the steering wheel.

And then she burst into tears.

Tricia cried, and a wave of horror washed over Joey. "Oh God, what have I done?" he wondered in a panic. "I'm sorry!" he said quickly while trying to figure out what he did wrong. "Maybe I shouldn't have brought up Snow Angel healing me, or should have offered to have her heal Clyde, Brandon, and Neal as well. Or maybe she doesn't want to work with me. Or I should have done more cleaning instead of just playing with the kids." "I'm sorry," he tried again.

Tricia shook her head, still crying, and managed to get out a "Not you," between sobs.

"Oh," Joey answered. The relief just confused him. Hearing that he wasn't the one that was making her cry eased him slightly, but it was not enough to make him feel better. She was still crying. "What is it?" he asked carefully.

She ground her head into the steering wheel, still sobbing, but trying to control herself. She wiped her eyes and turned to him. "My purse?" she asked.

He handed her her purse, and Tricia dug out some tissues, blew her nose, and wiped her eyes again. "I'm sorry," she started. "It's not you." She leaned back against her seat and took in a deep cleansing breath. Joey was momentarily distracted by her inflating chest, but quickly turned his attention back to her face. "It's everything."

"What do you mean?"

Tricia rubbed her face. "I mean..." she started, and looked at him. Her eyes were red and puffy. "Please don't take this the wrong way. I love you, and you are the best thing that's happened to me, but..." She took another deep breath. " ... sometimes I just want my old life back," she confessed.

"Her old life? She means before me." Joey felt a chill run through his spine as he contemplated that. "You don't ... want me?" he started.

Tricia took his hand. "No, it's not that. Please don't say that. (Let me!) I don't want you to leave. I just feel overwhelmed sometimes, that's all."

Joey stared at his hand. He had felt it. Something had flashed in his mind. Something happened when she touched him. Something entered him. It was a concept. The simple desire to express herself without judgement or consequences had made itself clear to him. This flash of want, it was something he realized had been happening more often to him lately. He stared up at Tricia's tearing eyes, and realized how his panic had hurt her.

"Don't judge her. Just let her talk," he decided. "Okay," he said, nodding. "I can understand. Go on."

Relief washed over Tricia's face, and she smiled through her tears. She leaned back in her seat. "It's just everything, you know?" she cried. She dabbed her eyes again. "I don't even know where to begin."

There was a long pause as she just sat and sniffed, and Joey watched her eyes dart back and forth, searching for something. He squeezed her hand. "If you can't find the beginning, don't start there. Start in the middle," he suggested. "Anywhere."

She half-chuckled and nodded, squeezing his hand back as she let out an "Okay." Her face fell as she spoke. "She got to me."

"Who?"

"Vickie." Joey frowned, and Tricia continued. "She was talking about her life and I suddenly realized ... There but for the Grace of God go I." She wiped her eyes and nose again. "I don't know how other journalists can do this without..." She trailed off, not finishing the sentence.

"What do you mean, she got to you?"

"It hit too close to home, you know?" He shook his head. Tricia took a deep breath. "Her dad kicked her out, and ... so did mine." Joey's jaw dropped, and she continued. "And it's so easy to just fall into selling yourself, you know? Just ... You remember when I told you? How rare it is to meet a guy who wants me to be good instead of sexy?" She looked down into her lap. "A lot of men just want women to be sexy, and nothing else."

He watched her as she collected her thoughts. "That could have been me," she confessed quietly. "It's so easy to just sell yourself. But I lucked out. I found what I wanted to do, and I..." She shrugged. " ... found ways to do it." She swallowed. "I slept with guys for free room and board, got into college, slept with teachers to get good grades, slept with the boss to get a job..." She paused. "I'm not proud of it, but I see how easy it could have been to just..." She looked back at Joey. "I could have been like her."

Joey pondered this. "But you're not," he suggested. She gave him a critical look through her tears. Don't judge her, he remembered. "I mean, you must have done something different."

Her smile returned. "I did. I had a dream." She sniffed and wiped her eyes. "I wanted to be on TV and be a journalist."

Joey watched her enjoy the moment as she reflected on her desires, and a memory from a dream returned to him. She has a secret desire. Find out what it is. He cocked his head as he looked at her. "Why" he asked.

"Hmm?"

"Why did you want to be a journalist?"

Tricia shrugged, and took in a shuddering breath. Her face fell. "So he would notice me."

Joey was perplexed. "Who?"

"My dad. I never told you about him, did I?" Joey shook his head and Tricia took in a deep breath. "Well, he hates women," she said matter-of-factly. "It took me a long time to realize that. A classic misogynist, you know? Thinks that all women fall into two camps; virgins and whores. And it was okay when I was little, because I was his little girl, you know?" He could see a level of hopefulness in her eyes. "And then when my brothers were born, he was so happy, so proud. Of them." The hope vanished from her eyes. "And I tried, I really tried to get his attention. So he would feel proud of me? And when I got older, and hit puberty..." Her voice dropped. " ... he would have nothing to do with me."

Her eyes teared again. "In his eyes I had transitioned from virgin to whore, and he wouldn't talk to me, wouldn't notice me, wouldn't do anything ... And I saw the way other fathers treated their girls, and their wives, and I saw how dismissive he was to my mom. He just married her because she was officially the prettiest woman around. My mom was Miss Mexico, nineteen eighty two, did you know that?" Joey shook his head. "Well, I never saw him respect her, or listen to her, or do anything thoughtful for her. Or me. Or any woman."

She took another deep breath. "The only women he listened to were on TV. It was the only time I ever saw him pay attention to women, We would watch the news together, and I would see him listen to women. And it was the only thing we did together. That was when I decided I wanted to do that. To be a TV journalist."

Tricia fell into a silence, and dabbed her eyes with the tissue. "I still wanted to do it even after he kicked me out," she added.

"Why did he kick you out?"

"He caught me with a boy," she grumbled. "We were fooling around, barely necking, and he just blew up. Said he didn't want a slut in the house, and he dumped my clothes into some trash bags and threw me out." She was crying from the memory. "And I was screaming, pleading with him, and he..." She stopped and touched her cheek. Joey knew what that meant. "He just couldn't accept who I was and what I was. A woman. A person with desires and needs. Who wanted to be at least recognized and encouraged. At least noticed. Loved. Admired."

She balled up the tissue and threw it into the back seat with the rest of the trash. "I was on the cover of Time magazine!" she barked. "And he didn't even give me a fucking phone call. Fuck him!"

She pulled out another tissue and stared out the window, and Joey watched her carefully. Silence filled the car. Find out what that desire is, echoed a voice in his mind, and do what you can to fulfill it.

"What do you want, Tricia?" he asked sincerely.

Tricia sighed and gave a half-chuckle. "I want to be me again. I don't like hiding myself. I don't like hiding the way I look, and I don't like hiding these stupid powers. I don't like these powers." She looked down at her hands. "I don't know why I have them. Sandy says Cosmics get their powers because they understand something clearly, and I don't feel like I understood anything. And I always thought it would be cool to have superpowers, but it's not. I always feel like I'm treading water, trying to catch up or not get too far away from everyone else, and I'm dizzy, and the only things I know how do with it are clean the kitchen real fast and make myself nauseous." She chuckled to herself through her tears. "I now have the power to fulfill my life-long desire of contracting Bulimia," she said sarcastically. "My dad would be proud of that."

She paused, and continued. "And I keep having nightmares. I see things that might happen, but usually don't. I keep seeing things like Annie getting burned or you pulling Snow Angel's powers out of her, and killing her, and I know you wouldn't do that, so I don't understand what it means." She wiped her eyes. "And I keep seeing these numbers. Forty, twelve, twenty-seven. What is that? It's not my measurements. I keep playing them on Pick-3, and it never wins. I don't know what it is."

Tricia fell quiet again, and Joey just watched and listened. "I don't know what I want," she finally said. "Sometimes I want to go back to my old job. It was stupid and easy, but at least I could be ME there. I could get on camera, and I could wear what I want, and be what I wanted to be." She looked down at her oversized blouse and pulled on it. "I hate wearing this. I look fat and ugly in it. And Matilda is right. I know I need to tone it down for Betty so I can keep you, but I miss being what I used to be. I mean, I worked hard to look good. I like being seen and admired. I'm making up for it, you know?"

She looked out the window. "I like being seen for what I am," she said. "I like being watched, but now, I can't do that anymore. And I miss it. I feel so invisible."

Joey thought back and smirked. Tricia turned and caught the smirk.

"What?" she asked.

"I've seen you when you were invisible," he said. "You were still pretty sexy then." She smiled. "Tricia, what do you want to do?"

Her face fell, and she sighed. "I don't know. I can't go back to my old job. And if I take Matilda's offer to do the whole 'Omega Woman' thing, do commercials and appearances, at least I'd be on camera again, and I'd be making some good money, but I'd be away from you and Annie for long periods, and I don't want to do that."

"You could dress sexy again," Joey offered.

"Yeah, but I like being sexy on my terms. I don't like being told when and how and why I look. It's my empowerment, not theirs." She paused. "I feel so trapped, and sometimes I just want to..." She trailed off.

"What?"

She shook her head. "Can't. It's stupid."

He shrugged. "So what if it's stupid? Your stupid ideas are good ideas. You found me because of one of your stupid ideas. What do you want to do?"

She smiled and chuckled. "I want to be seen again. I want to dress the way I want and show off. I want to tease the men, get everyone hot for me, you know? Either in front of people, or in front of a camera, and just dance or strip naked!" Joey could see her eyes flash with desire and excitement, and she squirmed in her seat. "If I did this on camera, I could at least post it online and see the comments and watch the hit counter go up." Her voice dropped to a growl. "Can you imagine all those men all beating off to me?"

Joey reflected on it. "I'm wrong. You're right. That is a stupid idea."

Her smile faded. "Yeah. Told you."

"You know, if Betty ever saw that..."

"Yeah. I know."

He thought about it some more. "You know, we can still do it, and just not post it anywhere."

Tricia shrugged. "Then what's the point?"

"Well, we could watch it at home. I'd like it, and so would Annie."

She sighed. "Do you really believe that Betty doesn't come and do inspections when we aren't there? She'd find it." She looked out the window. "Maybe it's for the best. Maybe I just need to grow up."

Joey watched her face turn blank as she looked out the window. "It's not fair", he told himself. "She should be happy." "No!" he barked. She turned to him. "Tricia, you have every right to be who you want to be, and how you want to be, and I don't care if she doesn't like it. I think you should do it if it makes you happy."

"We don't make the rules. If I do that, I lose you forever."

He groaned and stared into the back seat of the car, looking and thinking. Tricia's back seat was filled with trash from various fast food places, and the camera bag sat on top of the pile. He squinted at the camera bag, and thought.

An idea formed.

He frowned, and then cocked his head as he looked at the camera bag. Then he pulled it out of the back and opened the bag. Tricia watched him as he pulled out the camera and special lens filters.

"What are you doing?"

"So, you need to be seen for what you are," Joey said, fitting the filter on the lens. "Beautiful, sexy, and on your terms. But you can't be seen doing it, right?"

"Yeah," she said, watching him point the camera at her.

He dropped the camera, and grinned at her. "I think I have an idea!"

After discussing their plans, the first stop was a thrift shop. Tricia bought an entirely new outfit, something she wouldn't be recognized in: new blouse, skirt, bra, panties, stockings, evening gloves, shoes, sunglasses, long coat, an oversized handbag, and a long black wig. Joey picked up new jeans, jacket, shirt, baseball cap, and a backpack. He also found a small set of battery powered speakers for some music. They then drove out of the city towards a cheap hotel that Tricia knew all too well.

They parked a block away at a gas station, and then sat in the car for about fifteen minutes as Tricia meditated, banking about ten minutes of extra time. Joey kept a watchful eye for people looking in at them as she collected the minutes.

"Ready," she finally said, pulling herself from her meditation. She gripped the steering wheel to steady herself as a wave of dizziness washed over her, then checked her watch and cell phone. "You sure this will work?"

"Trust me," he said, and he took her hand. "Now think about being quiet." They both concentrated, her on trying to be quiet, and him on what her brain was doing. Sparks burst from his hand as he pushed a power into her.

"Okay," he said. "When you try to be quiet, you will absorb all sound. That should do something about the sonic booms. I'll see you there. Good luck."

"Thank you, ' she said. "You too."

He kissed her hand, and got out of the car, taking the camera bag and his purchases with him. He then headed away from the gas station towards a small diner, keeping an eye out for people following or watching him. As he approached the diner, he turned back and saw Tricia leave the car and enter the gas station restroom.

Four seconds later she emerged from the bathroom in a completely new outfit. She was wearing the long black wig, hat, sunglasses, and the long coat and her new handbag was slung over one shoulder. The bag, he knew, was stuffed with her purse and previous clothes. The wardrobe change was so quick and complete he almost didn't recognize her, which was the point.

He grinned and headed into the diner, and then into the back restroom. Once inside the stall, he changed his clothes and stuffed his old clothes, the camera bag, and the speakers into his backpack. Then he threw the backpack over his shoulder and headed out, slipping out another door, and into the alleys.

The familiar sense of caution returned to him. This life, moving on the streets, and keeping a watchful eye for anyone who might be interested in him, was something he had hoped he had left behind him forever, but the old skills came back easily. He ducked around dumpsters and jumped fences, making a long circle around the block until his cell phone chirped.

He checked the message. It was from Tricia. "@ GROCERY. DO I NEED TAPMONS? AM I OUT?"

He chuckled to himself. They had agreed that if she couldn't get a room, she would send a simple sentence spelled correctly. The misspelling was the signal that she got a room. The last bit was the room number. "AM I OUT?" Two letters, one letter, three letters. Room 213. He headed towards the hotel, carefully watching for witnesses and cameras.

As soon as he reached the door to room 213, Tricia opened it and quickly pulled him inside. The curtains were closed tightly, but the room was well lit. She mouthed something, but was silent.

Joey touched her arm and removed the power. He could hear her breathing heavily now. "What was that?" he asked.

"I said," she whispered. "Did anyone see you?"

He shook his head. "No. What about you? Any trouble?"

"No. I just paid cash and gave a fake name. They don't check your ID here. It's one of their selling points." She clutched her heart through her blouse. "I'm still so nervous. Not used to sneaking around."

As she leaned against a dresser, Joey watched her try to catch her breath. The new clothes hugged her body tightly, accentuating her breasts and hips. Her new bra didn't fit her properly, and he could see the way her huge breasts bulged out of the top of the undergarment. The sight made his mouth water, and he licked his lips while watching her luscious body move, and then he looked back and forth between her and the bed a couple times, seriously tempted.

"You know, we could always just..." he began. "You know?"

She gave him a weird look.

"Sorry," he said. "This is for you." Down boy, he thought to himself as he took off his backpack and opened it, pulling out the camera bag. As he started setting up the camera, Tricia looked about the small hotel room nervously.

"So, what should I do?" she asked.

Joey thought. "Um, pop the lenses out of those sunglasses, and wear the frames. Then put on the evening gloves. Keep the wig on. Then set up the music. I got you these speakers. They should work with your MP3 player."

She nodded and set herself to those tasks as Joey finished with the camera, attaching one of the lens filters and popping in a new memory stick. "Ready?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yeah," she said, now wearing the empty eyeglass frames and evening gloves. She had selected a playlist from her MP3 player, and her breathing was still heavy from nervousness and excitement. "Now be careful. I don't want you in any of the shots."

"I don't plan to be in any," he answered, turning the camera on.

"No part of you. No shoes, no hands, no shadows, and no reflections. If you see yourself, or say anything, stop the recording and delete it. Okay?"

He nodded. "Okay. I'll be careful."

She took a deep breath. "Okay. I think I'm ready." She frowned. "What do you think I should do first?"

He smiled and stepped forward. "Just act natural I guess. Do what you want. And just keep it in mind that someone is watching you, but can't see who you are."

She smiled and licked her lips, obviously enjoying the thought, and Joey reached his hand up to Tricia's face and gently touched her soft cheek. "Here we go," he said, and the Omegaplasm flowed. She started to fade.

He started at the top of the spectrum and worked his way down. Colors shifted on her skin, and she started turning a sickly green at first, but Joey could also see somewhat through her as the red and orange light passed through her. He continued on, removing yellows and greens. Her skin continued to fade, turning into a dark olive green and then sliding into teal and cerulean, and then into a deep blue. As the colors pulled out of her, she faded in opacity as well, and he could see the inside of her wig and clothes easily. Her eyes dilated wide.

Tricia gasped. "Wow. It's getting dark," she said.

"Yeah?" he asked.

She squinted. "Colors are weird. It's getting real blue."

"Get used to it. It'll be the only thing you see for a while."

Joey continued, pulling out the blue-greens, slipping down into the blues. She was barely visible now, only defined as a faint indigo transparent shell. The veins in her skin were prominent and a little off-putting.

"I can barely see anything now," she said. "It's just shadows in the dark. Are you done?"

"Let me check." He pointed the camera at her and checked the display. "Almost. Let me pull some infra-red out..." He watched the smoky shadow vanish from the camera display, revealing an empty animated wig.

"Done." he said proudly. "The camera can't see you at all. The warm lens filters out the deep blues, and that's all I left in you. Can you see anything?"

Tricia looked about the room. "I can see the lights, and I think I'm getting used to this. Yeah. I can see well enough to get around." She turned towards him. "I can see you," she said cutely, and waved at him.

He squinted. "I can barely see you."

She felt around the table. "Oh damn. I can't find the MP3 player. Oh, here it is ... Great. Now I can't read it. Can you start the music?"

He took the player from her. "I'll take care of it." As he took the player, he noticed her nipples were hard and prominently poking through her blouse. "Is it too cold in here for you?"

She smiled. "Don't worry about that. I'll get hot soon enough."

Joey grinned, stepped back and held the camera up. "Okay. Let's get started then."

Her voice shifted as she got serious. "Thank you, Joey," she said. "You don't know how much this means to me."

He smiled. "You just have fun with this, and try and get me to cum in my pants, okay?" She giggled. "And ... Action!" He started recording, and started the music.

A slow, romantic jazz piece played, the melody dripping with saxophone, and Tricia took in a deep breath and transformed herself. Her nervousness vanished immediately, overwhelmed by her intense desire to perform in front of the camera. She strutted across the room in her full outfit, stepping in time with the suggestive music, and Joey let her walk into the frame. She spun proudly, letting the full coat bloom out about her body. She was coy about her face at first, hiding the fact that it was invisible to the camera, and kept her head turned away. With her back to him, she opened her coat and let it drop off one soft shoulder, then the other, and let it slide slowly down to the floor to reveal the shapely woman underneath.

"Hi there..." she purred, altering her accent as best she could, and she half-turned her face flirtatiously towards him. Joey could see the eyeglass frames through the camera, but not her face, and she twisted her torso, prominently displaying the strong curve of her ample breast to him. "You want to see me, don't you?" she asked, and she ran her gloved hands down over her round butt, kneading her fingers into the firm flesh. "Mmm..." she moaned slightly. "But you've seen women before, haven't you?"

She turned towards him, fully exposing her magnificent curves and invisible face to the camera. "Bet you haven't seen this before, have you?" she giggled, and she popped one wide hip out and posed, flipping her long wig hair about. She inhaled deeply, inflating her chest, causing the buttons to strain on her new blouse as she ran her hands up over her stomach and torso, caressing herself. "Do you want to see more?" she prodded, tracing her gloved fingers over the indentations of her hardened nipples. Her hand moved up, higher towards her face, and she outlined her cheeks and lips with her gloved fingers. "Do you want to see it all? Look closely."

Tricia slowly swung her hips to the music, accentuating the sexy saxophone with her own breathy moans of pleasure. She twisted and stretched, pulling the buttons of her blouse to their limit as her chest inflated with each deep breath, and ran her gloved fingers through the wig hair, pulling the ebony strands up and letting them cascade down over her shoulders. She spun, letting her short, loose skirt blossom around her, revealing stockinged thighs and the faintest glimpse of white panties.

Joey could see her smiling intensely as she danced for him, and he smiled back as she crooked a gloved finger towards him, beckoning him to come closer. He stepped up, pointing the camera at different parts of her. He brought the camera up to her head, and she pulled the long black hair across her face. "Oh wow!" he thought, for Joey could see through the display the indentations of her eyes, nose, and lips push through the hair, defining her. She was completely invisible to the camera, no skin, no natural hair, no teeth, nothing was visible, yet her presence was unmistakable, her femininity powering through the invisibility. He lowered the camera, catching glimpses of the inside of her inflated blouse and bra as he passed down her neck, and down to the full expanse of her abundant breasts.

Tricia's voluminous chest filled the camera's view, and he had to pull back to get them fully in frame again. She giggled and twisted, thrusting her chest out repeatedly as she gyrated to the jazzy music. Fabric stretched and strained under the pressure, and buttons barely held. Hard nipples poked out, making a starburst pattern of folds in the fabric. She ran her gloved hands up and over her breasts, squeezing and molding them, and she swung back and forth in her dance, revealing every side of them. Joey felt his knees weaken in desire.