—more banging on her door.

It was early, too early.

carefully, holding her bionic arm steady to her chest, she walked to her front door.

"Who is it?" She called out in a strong low voice. She meant business because if whoever was on the other side of the door don't answer— is gonna get a face full of it.

"Misty, it's Sheila!" She pleaded.

Misty dropped her shoulders in relief and quickly opened the door.

"Sheila?" Misty questioned. There wasn't much you had to say when you were with with family, body language filled in the gaps.

Something was clearly wrong.

"I'm sorry, I know it's late— I mean early." Sheila didn't sit down. She stiffly walked in circles as she spoke, pacing back and forth on the same small stretch of the rug by the sofa.

Misty put a hand on her shoulder and led her to sit down.

"Deep breaths, girl." She soothed, rubbing her hand in small circles at her back. "Then start slow. . . Tell me what's wrong."

"Oh, Misty." She it back a sob, "it's Roro."

"Little Roro?" Misty leaned forward in her seat, trying to hold her composure.

Sheila was only younger than her by a small handful of years. Roro was her best friend and practically family. Her Momma and Sheila's Momma were close as sisters.

Misty could still remember how tiny she used to be. How she used to always called her Missy when she was little because she couldn't quite get her t's right.

"She's gone missing Misty."

"Are you sure she ain't just—"

"No! She's not just out of town on work!" Sheila stood up. "That's what we thought at first and gave it a couple of days for her to finally call home but she hasn't!" She put her face in her hands and started to break down. "And when we call her we get no answer. It's like been disconnected or some shit! Her secretary or coworkers don't even know where she is!"

Misty wrapped her arms around her. "It's okay cuz. . . I'm on it."

She'll find little Roro. She'll find her family.

That's how Misty found herself breaking into her little cousin's apartment at 8:00AM.

She lived in a historical building for the culture, the history, and connection to her blackness. When Roro first moved in, all she would ever talk about was the parlor parties that happened here. How old time black poets, writers, and musicians and what not would come together and— whatever.

She could go on and on in a little ball of excitement and annoy the hell out of everybody.

"What I wouldn't give to hear that annoying story one more time, Ro."

Misty started with her closet.

Her suspicions were correct. Overnight bag she's had since college was missing. So was her favorite jacket— and sweater, and jeans. . . And her coat.

But just as much summer stuff was missing to.

"Just where were you going?"

Trash was cleared out. Apartment clean.

Like her Momma, Roro didn't travel without leaving her house spotless.

So when you get back home you can relax and settle back into a clean house—there's no better feeling.

Her desk! Misty quickly thought.

She studied the small corner of Roro's living room where she worked from home. Right up against the wall by one of her biggest windows. The only one that went floor to ceiling, oddly shaped like it was put there by mistake. It could open up to let in a breeze if there was one, but served no other realistic function.

That was a historical building for you.

Laptop was gone, but one thing you can count on Roro for was a lot of notes.

note pads , sticky notes, loose sheets of paper, notebooks— were all scattered on her desk in piles of neat chaos. A system created only she could understand.

Misty had time. For now at least. So far it couldn't be determined little Roro was in any real danger.

She just skipped town.

But where to? Why?

There was a list of everything you needed to pack.

Nothing out of the ordinary other than you emphasized summer and winter clothes, and then your laptop.

So it was a work trip.

No notes as to where though.

Misty momentarily froze, looking at the pin bored above her desk was all of her photos.

Before Roro became a big time journalist, or at least the biggest to ever come from their little corner Harlem— she wanted to be a photographer.

She was good at it, everyone told her so, but she couldn't see it.

There's was something ibiy she could see that they couldn't. She felt like all her pieces were just okay. Not quite where she wanted them.

Maybe it's that thing some artist have before they get big. They do it for the love of it, but that craving for validation. The need to make sure people see what you want them to see is too big—obsessive. It could make you better or burn you out.

Perhaps Roro burned out.

But that wasn't the case at all.

She was good at capturing motion.

Her first photo was of Misty on the basketball court, dribbling the ball with the most focused look on her face, one foot charging in front of the other.

She's sure she still had it framed in her apartment somewhere.

One of her most famous was the stray photo she caught of Spider-Man in a rare one off battle he had with whoever the fuck that day, swinging right above a rolling cab. Crystal clear not to dissimilar from the jumpman logo save for the web he was clinging onto.

And then the one that truly got her famous, especially around these parts.

A photo of Luke Cage, Harlem's very own, when he still wore the yellow silk number and a bike chain for a belt.

Some clown bombed a block that day and Luke was hefting rumble to and fro to save victims, making sure everyone was found. Due to his strength there were no additional casualties from survivors. No one was buried alive and every stray body and limb was reunited with its family for a proper funeral.

Roro must have been crouched low.

The photo made Luke Cage— Power Man at the time, look regal. The sun beamed off his silver tiara, casting him in a saintly glow, and his muscles impossibly flexed as he held over almost a third of an entire building over his head.

From the small flash of his teeth Misty could tell little Roro had captured a rare moment where Luke had impressed himself with his own strength.

Misty touched it, wanting to hold something so dear to her cousin, to think of her, but another photo with a more recent date fell from behind it.

Odd.

Misty picked it up and flipped it over.

It was a photo of Luke!

A recent photo too.

He was bald and no longer in an ridiculous costume, a skintight black shirt, sturdy denim jeans and the belt he's managed to hold onto forever. Despite the ruined t shirts and occasional tarnished jeans, his belt always came out of battle unscathed.

Things just got a whole lot more mysterious— perhaps dangerous, but for who, Misty cousins quite out her finger one just yet.

Luke was smiling, big and wide. His eyes squinted up as they do when he lets out a big bellied laugh of joy, flexing his bicep by his head—no. Misty looked closer.

He was laying down, arm curled behind his head, propped up on a pillow as he looked up at Roro.

Misty dropped the photo as if it burned her.

She could almost see it as if she was there.

"What are you doing?" Luke said as softly as he could manage. His low voice only letting him speak so gentle.

The bed dipped under the weight of her knee as Roro climbed on top of Luke, straddling his lap as she held her old retro film camera above him.

"You got a new look. Gotta update my records of Harlem's own super hero. Power Man no more!" She says dramatically and he laughs, shaking her as he did, "mightier than ever before, going by his own name, Luke Cage!"

"Your ridiculous." He reaches up for her, his eyes flashing her a soft wanting look, a look that makes Misty feel sick, " . . . Come here." He whispers.

Misty shakes her head and perishes the thought of what she imagined.

"Trick of the mind." She huffs to herself and pockets the photo.

She and Roro were going to have some words when she found her.

Misty was storming her way towards the door, but she had a terrible thought. A good idea actually , but she hated it, hated that it was very plausible and logical— true.

She went into Roro's bedroom.

Sheets rumpled.

She pulled them back, fisting the material in her hands.

She didn't want to do this. Not even a little bit.

"Fuck you Ro for making me do this."

Here goes nothing.

Misty brought it to her nose and sniffed.

Son of a bitch!

She quickly dropped them and turned on her heels out the door, making sure to slam it behind her

It was faint but it was there.

Luke's raggedy ass cologne.

In her cousins bed!! Her baby cousins bed!

"Danny." Misty muttered unpleasantly to herself.

She was going to call him and—

"You're not Romona." A defeated voice called out into the hall.

Misty shoved her phone back into her pocket.

"I'm her cousin." Misty looked over the girl, she wore a matching pajama set with little cherries on it. If Misty's remembering correctly she's seen Roro wear one before on a random Face Time call one night.

"You must be, Gina."

"One and only." she flashed a grin and crossed her arms.

"Have you seen her anytime recently?" Misty asks

"Recently," she wrinkled her nose, "she was here last night!" She buffed. "When I heard the door slam I thought maybe I'd catch her or that fine ass nigga who spent the night— she got some explain' to do!" She continued, not letting Misty get a word in, but with the first good information since she stated this case, she'll let the younger woman talk as long as she wanted to.

"I had just finished my nieces hair and put her to bed when all of a sudden I hear Ro cross the way." She drops her voice dramatically, "and then I hear this low ass deep voice! Roro don't bring 'round to many men, so I knew he had to be special or somethin' to her, so I look out the lil peep hole in the door and I see her in this fancy ass gown or dress or whatever— and the man? I don't see his face, but from the back I could I tell he was fine!" She out a hand over her heart. "He was built like he was fine— bald head and all."

"So ball gown and a tux." Misty added casually, just to let her know she was listening.

Gina nodded.

"Yes!" She pointed at her, not in her face just in her general direction, "I did her hair the night before. We settled on a really big but elegant long braid, from the back— not up top!" She clarified. "She had this gold little wire bracelet we wrapped around the base. Ooh, she looked so good!" She squeaked. "If they was at some fancy ass ball or party, I just know they looked fine together. I hope she got some pictures!"

"Did you hear them say anything about where they were? Did Ro say anything while you did her hair."

"She said it was for work." Gina tilted her head, "and when they got to her door, all I heard before Roro closed her door was something about him being sweet or cute, and then she faked like she was going to kiss him, but at the last second, she kissed him on the cheek— and girl he was leaning all the way in! He wanted him that kiss," she snapped her head, "okay!"

"And nothing else? Nothing this morning?" Misty urged.

"Nope." Gina said, popping the p. She crossed her arms once more, "why you asking all these questions anyway? She missing or somethin'?"

"Or something." Misty said curtly. She pulled a card out her pocket, "if you hear anything." She handed it to Gina and made her way.

She has two stops.

First Roro's office and then Danny Rand.

He and she had some words they needed to share.

Misty took the bus.

She liked the bus.

It made her feel more immersed into home. Like she was apart of Harlem and one with the people. Didn't mind the heat, didn't mind the smell, or that one crazy passenger.

She wasn't a detective or private I on the bus. She was Misty.

The little girl coming home from a basketball practice, going out and about the city with friends or even her Pops.

With Sheila and little Roro who liked to see Misty play in the park. Who— when she was finally big enough— joined the team to play Misty's old position, doing all the moves exactly like she taught her.

"Look at me, Missy! I'm just like you!"

Misty wiped a stray tear that was threatening to fall from the corner of her eye.

"What are you and Luke up to Roro?" She muttered into the corner of the window.

the bus came to a stop and she vaulted out of her seat and off and bus.

Roro loved taking photos, but not of superheros or movement. As she had said once, in a sudden determniation to put her art into words.

What Misty new for a fact, a budding cop, as Roro was just starting to transition from high school to college, what everyone in their family didn't need to be detectives to see, was Little Roro's budding love for photography was born from a unknowing crush on Power Man.

No one knew it better than her own Mama, who wanted to keep it that way as long as possible.

"She'll grow out of it." Misty recalled her humming, more to herself then to her. "She'll meet a nice young man and forget all about that trouble maker."

Why she always called him that? Misty never solved that particular case. Just chopped it up to the cliche parents not liking the idea of their little girl with someone— no matter how old she may be.

If he was out on the street causing a ruckus, fighting the new clown of the day, Roro was looking out the window.

"Power Man just can't catch a break can he?

Man— is he ever going to have a good day?

Mama! Misty! Sheila! He out here again! Oh no. . . He's gone. That big rhino man done knocked him halfway across town"

As far as they all knew, she had grown out of it.

Roro barely mention the name Power Man or Luke Cage anymore. . . not unless her job was trying to force her to.

Misty opened the door to the little office she knew Roro worked out of from time to time.

The main office for the paper she worked at was in Manhattan, but after threatening to leave one year, they decided to open up a new Harlem branch— anywhere she chose.

She chose the tiniest little thing . . . Not too far from Heroes for Hire. About three blocks and around the corner.

That little minx.

Had her thing with Luke started then?

She pushed thoughts of that away.

She needs to find them.

"Rosalina." Misty said with a frown.

"M-Misty?" She squinted.

The little office building got a lot of sunshine. Whatever raggedy business that existed before it had been replaced with a tiny oasis full of natural light and tons of plants. They kept the exposed brick wall and somewhere Ro had found a concrete bench table and surrounded it with the oddest mismatching chairs Misty had ever seen.

Tacky.

"You wouldn't get it Misty." Ro smacked her teeth. "It's art! It's — it's like fashion! It's story telling!"

Rosalina's desk was closest to the door and in the back of the little pace was Roro's.

A small little kitchen behind it and one small door where the bathroom is. No one and nothing else.

"Where's your boss?" Misty said curtly, sitting in the edge of her desk.

"Somewhere working," Rose didn't look back up from whatever she was working on. "All I know is it's out of county, and top secret. Like government secret and she said," she hummed, trailing off and flipping through a stack of paper's on her desk before handing Misty a sheet of paper,

going out if country. . . . Can't tell you anything else, or ask for your help at all . . .

NO ONE can know where I am, not even family.

I'll wrap up as soon as I can.

"So as far as you know she's out of town?" Misty scoffed.

"Mhmm!" Rose said sharply.

Misty fight the urge to knock the girl out her seat.

"What do you know about her relationship with Luke Cage?" She deadpanned.

"Luke?" Rose squinted, at her computer screen and finally soared Misty a brief glance, "he's always here."

"What?!"

"Yeah," Rose crossed her arms and swiveled her chair so Misty was blocking the light, "The Paper thinks because we're in Harlem we should always know what's going on with him and the Iron Fist, but Luke Cage hates talking to press even though the world knows about the exoneration and all that." She shrugged, "I guess he's just a private man."

Misty but the corner of her lip.

"And what does that have to do with him being here— all the time?

"Well, we have a working relationship with him." She raised her eyebrows as if to say duh, "he gives us the exclusive —all what he wants it to say, what, why , and how?" She listed off her fingers. "We get the story, the big guys gets what they want, and we get to keep our jobs, and Luke Cage gets to control his image in the public or whatever," she scowled as if she has been severely inconvenienced by Misty's questions. "He's his own PR firm."

"Uh-huh." Misty got up and walked towards Ro's desk.

Before she looked at anything else, a photo on the corner of the monitor caught her eye.

It was Luke standing next to Ro, he was looking down at her, and she was looking up at him. The sunset framed left to the other side of them, bathing them both un rays of a sunset piinky, purple, orange rays of it.

Misty couldn't see— couldn't think it or imagine what exact words that might have passed between them in this moment, but she knew they were soft.

Roro words a hair of a whisper, dancing across his lips soon to be kissed by the smooth low tone's of Luke's deep voice as he tried to match her softness.

Misty snatched it up.

"When was this?" she flashed it at Rose

She looked up with a roll of her eyes. "Oh that was ages ago." She yawned turning back to her work. "Some Daily Bugle jerk copped a photo of them talking, tried to make it seem like Luke was cheating on Harmony at the time— Roro bought the story and buried it."

"Y'all make enough money to buy out a story from the Bugle?" Misty blinked. Damn Ro, I didn't know the girl had it like that. She thought.

"Obviously we don't." Rose scoffed. "But The Beat does."

"Are you going to tell me what that is, or am I supposed to know already?"

"Clearly your supposed to know," Rose snapped lazily, getting too worked up over Misty must require too much effort, "we have a partnership with them, not a direct buy out," she stretched, before switching off her computer, "we get a column at The Beat, give them the up and up on Luke Cage and Harlem, we get more money to do what we want on our actually moneymaker kick ass website The Paper that we have expanded to a multiethnic media platform, trademarked."

Misty pocketed the photo, "if you hear anything." She through down a card on Rose's desk and walked out the door.

Just how far back did he and Luke go? Friends?? When he was with Harmony of all people?

How'd he keep that to himself?

Misty made her way down a few blocks before turning a corner.

Gone.

Danny wasn't in.

"He better get in." She huffed.

She dialed his phone.

"Pick up you—

"—Misty?" There was a loud roar on the other end, followed by a crash. "One sec I'm working."

After a few more minuets of crashing and a scream he was back.

"My bad. What's up?"

"Don't what's up me," she smacked her teeth, "where's Luke?"

Danny sighed, the sound crackled over the phone, "If I knew, I'd tell you. . . Luke said he was taking care of business and would be gone for a while. He said he couldn't tell me anything else."

"And you didn't think to press him?!"

"Misty," he sternly interrupted her, "Luke has gone off by himself before and you never cared. What's different about this time?"

"He has my baby cousin involved in some shit!" She spat, fed up and pushed to her limit, "and he's going to get her hurt unless I can find him and knock him upside his head!"

Danny huffed, defeated. "I didn't know that."

"Yeah." Misty sniffed and wiped at her eyes.

"If I hear or see anything, I will call you Misty. I—"

She hung up the phone.

She needed to go to the airport.

She had a guy there, and he could get her acess to some footage. She might be able to figure where they went.

She had to take an actual car this time, no better time to stop by her own place for a quick spell. Eat, freshen up, and head back out.

The walk back and bus ride was entirely too long.

It was late. She should make a pot of coffee before she heads back out.

"Misty?"

"Sheila? How'd you even know I was home? You been here all day?"

"Just a half hour." She blinked, still looking pretty out of it. "I figured you come back home at some point."

"Right," Misty unlocked her door, "Come on in."

She pulled out the photo she nabbed and handed them to Sheila.

"You knew about this?"

"I— oh. uhm, no actually." Misty was going to push, maybe call her a liar, but from the way she blinked and kept turning each photo over and looking back and forth at the two of them, she could tell Sheila wasn't faking.

"When were these taken?" Sheila said in disbelief, "When did she even meet—"

"I don't know about the one with them together, but the one of just him was recent. Real recent."

Sheila slid to the floor instead of sitting in the sofa.

"You think he has something to do the why she's gone? He's a hero!" Sheila's eyes darted to and fro at nothing in particular, trying to make sense of something that clearly doesn't. "He wouldn't hurt her would he?"

"No." Misty made sure she sounded as clear as possible. "He would never intentionally hurt her, but he might have got her involved in some shit she has no business being a part of."

"Of course," Sheila sighed and hung her head down. "But at least he can protect her, right? If there was anyone she would be missing with, at lest it's him, right?"

Misty crouched down to where her cousin sat and rubbed small circles down her back.

"He would, but he'd also be the reason he's protecting her too. I trust Luke, but whatever they're up to, this isn't the way to go about it. I'll find them before things get bad, alright?"

Sheila nodded, looking as if she'd cry at any moment.

"Go home and get some rest okay. I'll call you in the morning."

Misty got Sheila calmed down, she found something to eat, and showered.

She scoured a few corners of the internet for a couple of hours. The only big "gala" or fancy shindig that happened recently was a government thing, some rapper from somewhere, and a semi formal art show thing.

Misty made a note to stop by the government thing and whoever the rapper was, the dress code for that was also formal. She might be able to get some answers from whoever organized each event. See which one sounded more like a place Roro would get a job offer— maybe even figure out who exactly offered her the job.

Her phone rang and she snatched it up.

"Nightwing Restorations, Misty—

"Misty, I heard you was looking for my little girl?"

"Yes, Mrs. Laura. I meant to stop by earlier I just . . . Wanted to get to looking as soon as possible."

"Please, Misty," she smiled through the phone, "no need to apologize. I know you like to get straight to business, so I'll do the same. She came 'round here."

"What?!" Misty spring from her chair and got dressed. "When?"

"She just le—"

"I'm on my way!"

Misty didn't give her time to finish. Some things are better in person, and if Ro and Luke were in something dangerous, then talking about it over the phone wouldn't be a smart move.

Misty doesn't think she's driven as fast as she did tonight.

"You fly over here?" Mrs. Laura raised her eyebrows at her as she opened the door.

"Funny as ever Mrs. Laura." Misty hummed as she walked in.

"Do it look like I'm laughing chile?"

"Was there a man with her?"

"You mean that Luke Cage boy?" She huffed and sat down in one of her living room chairs. New furniture, Misty did a quick Look around. Mrs, Laura always did like decorating. She remembers her old vows of never wanting an outdated home. She wanted it to grow with her.

However, all the pictures on the wall were the same, save for a few more new ones as time went by.

"I can't believe she brought him into my house again."

"Again?" Misty sat down across from her on the sofa, "what do you mean?"

"I know that boy from before he changed his name! I knew his parents when they tried to talk some sense into him and get him out from those raggedy streets!" Mrs. Laura didn't raise her voice much, but her mouth was in a thin line and her brow furrowed.

"But me or Sheila never—"

"Roro has secrets. I figured she'd tell Sheila or you about him one day but she never did." Mrs. Laura smiled to herself. "Guess she was just as embarrassed to be romantically involved with some good for nothing hoodlum as I was for her."

"So your saying she dated Luke in High School or something? That they running off together to rekindle some childhood flame?"

"Oh good Lord, no Misty." She leaned back in her seat, softening, "said she was on some job and she can't tell me what it is or what she's doing, but Luke was hired to protect her, and that you need to stop looking for her. . . She told me to call you."

Misty balled her fist and stared at it.

"I don't necessarily hold a grunge against the man, just the boy he used to be." Her eyes were glossy, tearing up as she broke the brief silence. "He apologized. . .and I suppose I did too— for setting Ro's uncles and other cousins on him, but it's nice to know he understands now," She leaned back further in her seat, " that the life he was living back then could have hurt her future, set her back . . . He said he knows that now too."

"Did Luke say anything else? Did either of them mention were they've been or were their going? Have they been in the city his whole time?" Misty said, doing her best to sound polite and hide her agitation.

"No, but heres this." Mrs. Laura reached forward across the coffee table and handed her a card. "And call me auntie. it don't matter how much time is passed or how old you are." She sat back with a self satisfied smirk.

It was a keycard to a hotel room.

"How'd you get this from them?"

"I might have said some unkind words to Luke before the big apology happened. We might have got into it and he might have gotten upset enough stormed off. Roro calmed him down and showed him her childhood bedroom, and her purse was in the living room where I might have dug through it and took the card out."

"Thanks auntie I—"

"Go do what you gotta do, Misty. . . .bring my little girl home"

She nodded. "Anything for family."

It was easy figuring out what hotel it belonged to. Some fancy shindig way over in Manhatten. Heroes for Hire is not exactly flushed with cash and Roro does well for a single woman in Harlem and lives a modest lifestyle within her means.

Something was up.

"excuse me Miss how can I—"

Misty flashed the card and he took a polite step back.

G457.

That was the room they were in.

She popped the door open.

Silence.

Everything was clean and sleek, the windows reached from the floor to the ceiling, showing a wide expansive view of the city.

The closet door hung wide open, the singular hanger mocking her.

Did they know Misty would find them, or was contacting Roro's mother a final goodbye before they were on the move again.

Misty scanned the place, quickly but carefully. There had to be something.

She was about to give up, but after sitting on the bed for a quick break, something behind a pillow caught her eye. She moved it and found a small stack of photographs.

Upon seeing the first one, she quickly turned it over. . .It was Roro in a sensitive position in a sensitive, private light.

Misty wanted to knock Luke upside his head more than ever. The next one was very similar before but instead it was Luke.

Just like the one currently in Misty's pocket it was taken from a low angle and framed in such a way to make him appear larger than life, power and imposing as he filled every inch of the frame, but this time there was something more gentle and soft spoken . The strength and power was replaced with something bare, open, and sensual. His eyes, gentle but burning, were focused over the lens, the tool to capture the moment, and instead on the capturer. Every soft ripple of muscle and exposed skin puled taught and faced one direction even down to. . .

Misty turned that one over too, suddenly assaulted by memories from her first time having coffee with the man.

Aside from fucking around and taking nudes of one another. . there had to be more. This wasn't just some secret star crossed lovers get away. Nothing about them being together was even forbidden. Trauma maybe? From Ro's mother?

It didn't matter.

If there was one thing Misty knew about Luke, Little Roro, and photos, it was that they were both sentimental creatures.

Luke dug through rubble half a day to find a photo of Reva and Pop's swear jar.

Roro has held onto this photo of Luke as Power Man that currently in her pocket, for years, and perhaps carying feelings for him longer than anyone had ever known. Maybe?

Misty was hanging onto her doubts about that.

The moment either of them figure out they lost these, they would definitely be coming back.

Her eyes drooped heavily, fluttering hard as she fought off sleep. She was tuckering out. She needed to push through.

She could not miss when either of them got here. She couldn't. . .Couldn't afford to. It was her best lead. . . .but she's only so strong. Not even a bionic arm could stop the sleep that took over her.

Something creeped and Misty stirred, holding her arm towards whatever just touched her.

"You got five seconds to explain yourself , before I end this nice and friendly conversation, by blowing your head off with one blast of this arm."

Her attacker sighed, stepping into the light.

She smacked her teeth.

"Danny?"

She didn't lower her arm .

"What are you doing here?"

"I called you and you didn't pick up." He said, ignoring her question.

"Not good enough. " She snapped. "Don't make me ask you again.

"Luke sent me here for some photos, and threatened to ball me up and toss me in the trash like a piece of paper if I looked at them." He half pouted, acting friendly.

Pretending like they were still. . something, anything that they were not.

They weren't anything anymore and haven't talked since it happened, and here he was, pretending when Luke had her baby cousin and was keeping her from her friends and family— and Misty.

"Where are they?"

"You know I cant tell you that."

Misty banged her fist hard enough on the window the glass cracked. "Where. Are. They?"

Danny was in a tux, not unlike how Roro's friend and neighbor described Luke wore. He knew.

It was another big part, and Misty just got her invitation. One stop at a certain somewhere and she had a nice new red dress that could help her fit right in.

She and Danny uncomfortably ignored each other, one party more hostily than the other, but she was finally closing in.

Most people think being a great detective is all about how smart you are and what you can think of to think of the next move of your target or perpetrator— which is not completely wrong, but its mostly being patient and waiting for someone to make a mistake and swooping in once they do, or its waiting some more and finally getting good intel from a bystander or witness.

Even if a bit more impatient than usual, Misty had waited out, and Luke and Roro had made their first and final mistakes.

That's how the game goes.

"Mr Rand." a cordially dressed black man had greeted. His smile fell once he saw Misty, "we have— Ms. Knight! What a surprise."

"You know who I am/"

"Yes." He charmingly confirmed. "Ms Romona, has sung your praises to us for quite some time now."

"I'm sure." was all Misty said before turning and leaving both Danny and the man.

She'd have to talk about that later, or better yet, Roro can tell her who he is herself.

Speaking of, there she was.

In a finely decorated hall, rubbing elbows with rich and mysterious strangers, there she was.

Mist wanted nothing more than to point out how she didn't belong in this room, but looking the way she currently did— she;d be wrong.

Gone was Roro intimately sweet and sensitive charm. Her down to earth easy going aura of a young woman that once you got, you wouldn't let them anywhere out of your life.

She was adorned in a deep sunset dress of moody red with train of burnt orange and gold, dusted with black. How all the colors merged together into something sleek and coherent was strange to Misty eye's almost as if it was laced with. . magic. It was magic!

Her natural hair was braided back out of her face and topped with a band of gold and diamonds. It flowed elegantly along her shoulders. A gold dust glittered about in her hair— and her skin.

Her make up was done in a way that made her look seductively and dangerously alluring, that if you took your chance and got closer to her, she may bite— and bite hard. A bold darkly lined ombre red lip and complimentary eyeshadow that faded seamlessly on her face.

She was unrecognizable.

Luke was next to her. All done up in a tux, everything black, but it played a trick on her eyes as well, almost like there was smoke whirling around his legs beneath the knee. An occasional crackle burst small sparkling flickers of red and orange embers of flame. His pocket square an eternal burning hot glow.

Misty frowned.

They were standing close, smiling to one another and talking in low soft voices as if they were the only ones in the room.

"Little Roro!" She said loudly but not too loud.

Ro jumped back and looked at Luke who had his eyes looking straight ahead at Misty as she made her way over.

She couldn't say , she did tn feel a way about it.

"You're not supposed to be here." Luke said in a low voice.

Misty didn't say anything to himand looked at Ro.

"Its not what you think." She cried. Reaching out towards her, but remaining at Luke's side.

"I know its not what I think, because if I told you, you wouldn't like it, but maybe you could clear that up for me."

"Romona?" A woman interrupted. " Is everything all right?" She was strikingly beautiful, from the way she was dressed in fine tones of gold and yellow, the magic of the room made her shine like the sun, despite the intensely deep cool tone of her skin. Her hair was strained and pulled into a tight long ponytail, a band of gold wrapping around the base of it. Her makeup done in the same bold siren style as Roro.

It was like she was made to look similar to this woman's image.

Why is she using her cousin as some sort of twisted dress up doll?

"Yes, Ja." Roro look torn as she look between the new woman and Misty., making her feel more disgusted than she already felt. "This is my cousin Misty.'

"Oh. . ." She worriedly looked around then at Misty. "Let Us go somewhere more private then." Misty was going to argue, but the way Luke instantly followed her and how Roro trailed behind them both without a word was more odd to her.

When they enter a room not far down the hall, the men guarding the door opened it without a word. They offer her water and she waves them away with a never wavering smile and nod.

She sits down and pats the seat next to her. Romona sits, but Luke remains standing.

"Please, Misty we will explain everything to you."

Eyeing her carefully Misty sits opposite of them

"I am Janira, in line to the throne of a nation you know nothing of and never will know. We are hidden on this world with magic, and despite our hidden state, we choose to interact with the nations around us as a show of good faith."

Misty didn't care about hidden nation and whatever the fuck, she wanted to know why her cousin was involved with this woman.

"And what does my cousin ave to do with your secret nation?" Misty said pointedly, not hiding her attitude.

Something about the way the light of her eyes dim and her smile strained slightly on her face filled Misty with vengeful glee.

" Do you remember your cousin's first big trip out the country for the journalism job she got?"

"The travel magazine gig, yeah." Misty said nonchalantly. Why?"

"Well, I've been following her career since then, and I did not know it at the time, but apparently I talked a great deal about her to the point our entire nation is as equally enamored with her as I am" She beamed, turning towards Roro who's shoulders dropped shyly. She quickly broke their gaze with the shake of her head, not providing any other comment besides looking flustered.

Luke let out a short huff above Misty's shoulder, a hint of a smile on his face as he hid a grin at Ro.

Misty remained unfazed, but more annoyed.

Her majesty continued.

Long story short, as you say, I hired Romona to document the growing political unrest in my country. The supporters of my family and that of the want to be usurper are at war with one another, and the true meaning of who we are and what we strive for is being lost, and after seeing your cousin turn her trip to that one African country to something more meaningful and engaging than the best place to stay or eat. I just knew she could right by my people— by and for the truth."

"And this means ripping her away from her entire friends and family without a trace?" Misty accused.

"Yes," She said seriously. "The details of my homeland must remain a secret and the truth of it is dangerous. Your cousin has been put in a precarious situation by taking this job which is why we hired Luke Cage protect her. He is the hero of her home and perhaps she would feel less lonely with him around— and safest," she added."

"I —"

"— I shall leave you alone to discuss further." She cut Misty off and rose from her seat.

Roro rose when she did.

"Have a goodnight Romona. I hope you sort everything out with your family." She said it politely, but curtly.

A thinly viewled threat. Misty narrowed her eyes.

"Goodnight, Princess." Roro said softly.

When she was gone Misty rose from her seat.

"Are you out of your mind?!" She pointed at Ro. "You risk getting yourself killed over a nation you don't even know exists and hide from you friends and family for almost a month!"

Roro gave her a serious look.

"I'm not a child Misty. You think I didn't see the risk? The danger?" she sighed through her nose, "I only took the job when they told me they had already hired Luke.

"Because her royal majesty is manipulating you!"

"Its highness!" Roro huffed with a pout.

Misty wrinkled her nose. The anger in her dissipated as quickly as it rose. "What?"

"Your majesty is for kings and queens, your highness is for prince and princesses, and dukes and duchesses are addressed as grace."

"Why do you know that?"

"I am a journalist. Why wouldn't I know that?"

"I think I'll leave you two alone." Luke said suddenly.

"No, you're going to stay your ass right there and tell me why you kept this from me."

"Because I'm being paid for my secrecy as well as for my ability to do this job, and your cousin's right." Luke said,unfazed by her accusations, "She's a grown woman who can take care of herself. "

"NO!" Roro gave them both a look. "Misty come here1" she huffed and lead them to a different corner of the room.

"I'm going to finish this job." She said definitively. Sometimes I'll be in the city and sometimes I won't" She said it carefully. her eyes silently hinting at the real meaning of her words. Misty didn't like it, but she couldn't actually stop her.

She nodded at her baby cousin. "Alright, Ro."

She wrapped her arms around he and Misty hugged her back. "Your my baby cousin. I don't want anything to happen to you."

"I'm not a baby anymore. I know what I'm doing. And besides . . I have Luke with me. It'll make things easier."

Misty dug in her clutch and handed Roro the photos she grabbed from her place. "I think you want these back."

Taking the photos, Ro laughed, practically giggling as her nose scrunched and her dimples popped out with her big grin. It dint matter how striking her makeup was, or the bold alluring colors she was dressed in, she was still Little Roro.

Misty couldn't help herself. She cupped the side of her face and put her thumb in one of her dimples. Roro brushed her hand away with a playful smack, but that only made her do it again. This time using both hands and holding her more tenderly.

"You know you can't tell Sheila or Momma, right? They cant know anything other than I'm on a secret job and will be home soon."

Misty rubbed her thumb across her cheek one more time before she let her ago.

"Alright. . .but I need you to write them a letter to ease their feelings. That way they can hear it from you."

She gave her big smile, "That sounds like a good idea."

"Y'all make up?" Luke said carefully as Misty waited for Roro to bring back the letter.

"mhmm." Misty hummed. She wasn't going to wait. She was jut going to put it out there. "Luke I need you to do right by her."

"I will, Misty. She—"

"You and Claire loved each other, but it might not have worked, and yes you were going through a lot, but you weren't communicating that well." Misty interrupted him. "And everyone in the world knows Harmony was just a rebound. . . you practically left that girl with little to no word. You will not hurt Roro. Do you hear me?"

"You have my word."

Misty gave him a look.

"Heres the letter," Roro trails off, "Everything all right in here?"

"Peachy." Luke rumbled, earning him a bright smile. The ease in which he pleased her cousin slightly disturbed Misty, but she wouldn't comment.

With one last hug and goodbye. Misty left the party, thankfully without a word to Danny.

Her phone rang and she sighed when she saw who it was.

Sheila.

Awe shit.

Misty didn't know what to say.

Everything was easier than said. Had the roles been reversed and Roro was the one to tell the family, that she couldn't find her. No one would bat an eye. Pat her on the back and tell her good job.

But Misty—

The only thing that would do was raise hell and a bunch of questions she wouldn't be able to get an answer to.