Tyrone stared at the closed door for a few minutes before retreating back into the front room. He shook his head. "What in de world is with dat girl?" he asked no one in particular. She looked familiar to him, but he was pretty sure he had never met her before.

He walked over to the sofa and just as he was about to sit down, his head spun and dizziness washed over him. As he swayed, he tried to make it the rest of the way to the sofa, but he sank to his knees instead. 

Closing his eyes tightly, he struggled to fight off the blackness that was trying to overtake him. Images began flashing through his mind. A little girl. The one from his visions! She was so beautiful. He watched as she morphed and changed. Suddenly she was no longer the little girl anymore. She had become the woman he had just seen at his front door!

"Who is dis girl?" he asked, holding his head in both hands. The images changed again and a memory came through that made his blood run cold. He was in his office at the club. Standing before him was a tall, menacing figure dressed completely in black. His face was covered and there was a greenish electricity crackling where his eyes should have been.

The memory faded and his head finally stopped spinning. Tyrone quickly scooted himself to the sofa and pulled himself onto it, lying back against the cushions. He lay there for several minutes, breathing heavily. What did it all mean? Who was the woman and what was the meaning of the tall, dark, masked figure? Was it an actual memory, or just the conjuring of his tired imagination?

........

Macy's heels click-clacked on the pavement as she walked ahead of Jackson toward the back service door of the huge hotel where their friends made their home and headquarters. She hadn't said a word to him on the ride over which was highly unusual for Macy Grey. Jackson followed her, his eyes hooded and hands thrust in his pockets. He figured she would come out with it eventually. Whatever was bothering her couldn't stay hidden forever.

The door swung open to reveal Jordan's smiling face. He stepped aside to allow them entry and once he had closed and locked the door, he took Macy into his arms and kissed her cheek. Then he stepped back and shook Jackson's hand.

"It's very good to see you, Jordan!" Macy sang, blushing a little.

Jackson rolled his eyes and moved around them, heading toward the kitchen. "I'm starving. You guys have anything for lunch around here?"

He reached the huge kitchen area and stepped inside to come face to face with Natasha's exotic face.

"Well. Hello, Detective Wolfe," she purred. 

Macy had come up behind him and when she saw Natasha, he swore he heard her hiss under her breath. The two women despised each other. Of that there was no doubt. They were polar opposites in both looks and personalities. Where Natasha was tall, dark haired, with a solid bone structure, Macy was tiny, petite, and platinum blonde. Macy spoke with a very high, almost annoying voice and Natasha's throaty purr border-lined on being masculine. Macy wore classy, expensive clothing and her nails were manicured with a subtle polish. Natasha wore revealing, often cheap-looking clothes and at the end of each finger sprouted a magnificent claw, usually painted in something bold and metallic. Macy's lips were pink, Natasha's bright red.

Macy came off at first as if she hadn't a brain in her pretty skull, but in reality she was smart as a whip. Natasha struck one as being worldly and wise, but Jackson had come to figure out that she was actually just a scared little girl, deep down, who hadn't a clue what she was doing. Her attempt at kidnapping Macy had been a mess. She had gotten herself caught and now here she was. Kept here against her will so that she could learn how to use her abilities without causing too many people harm.

He watched as Macy circled around Natasha like a little cat. Natasha's eyes didn't leave her face, but her expression remained blank.

"You really think you have control of the situation, don't you?" Natasha spoke, finally, her gaze steadily boring into the smaller woman.

Macy's eyes widened for a second and then they narrowed and Jackson saw her tiny fists clench. He began to wonder if she meant to punch Natasha. He wouldn't be surprised.

"You certainly have no control. Of anything, much less the situation," Macy replied, her tone just as calm and unwavering. "You can't even control your fat thighs bulging from that hideous costume."

She indicated Natasha's perfectly sculpted legs and the red dress that hugged her every curve. Natasha's eyes flew open wider and then she visibly regained her composure. "Just because you carry a badge doesn't make you big enough to sit at the adult's table."

"Just because you dress like a whore doesn't mean every man you meet will be wrapped around your claw."

"No? Just your man, then?"

Jackson caught Macy around the waist as she hurled herself at Natasha. She struggled against him. "Let me go, you big... oaf!" she squealed.

He laughed and held onto her. What were these two going on about, anyways?

"Calm down," he growled through her hair as he held her tiny, wiggling body against his chest.

"I'm going to kill her!" she snarled.

"Uh, no. You aren't."

Natasha laughed and then with a toss of her head, she walked out of the kitchen with her hips swaying seductively. Jackson detested her nearly as much as Macy did, but she was of little importance to him. He wondered why she was able to get his partner so riled up. Did his confident, sexy little side-kick actually feel threatened by Natasha? She was just a high-priced prostitute and as far as he knew, she had nothing and no one. Except the team, of course, and she constantly made it a point to let them know they weren't wanted.

Macy finally relaxed and he released her. She straightened her clothing and patted her hair. She whipped a little compact out from her ample bosom space and checked her appearance. She applied lip gloss and then snapped it shut. Stashing it back where it came from, she turned away without so much as a glance in his direction and placed her hand through Jordan's arm.

"Take me to Anthony and Jerome, would you, darling?" She smiled sweetly up into the boyish face of the greenish-haired boy. He was happy to appease her and the two walked away, leaving Jackson to wonder what the hell was going on. He would have to force her to talk to him soon. Her icy demeanor needed thawing before he developed a severe case of frost-bite.

Edited.

(Please vote and comments welcome, too.)