“Not to worry. She's a good swimmer.”The barkeep smirked and walked away.Felicity stood frozen, still at a loss.“I didn't recognize you without ...our blue hat and rainbow scarf,” he said.Her eyes looked up as if trying to see the top of her own blonde head while she touched her bare neck. She turned back towards her table. “Oh, my toque and scarf are over there. The hat’s actually turquoise...”He snagged her by the hand. He winked and chuckled, “I'm still kidding.”Felicity popped her eyebrows. " ... Ace," he finished softly. He looked at Brock for something. Support, confirmation, I couldn't tell. Brock is normally unreadable. Now he was professionally so. Mt. Rushmore is a study in emotion compared to Colonel Brock.Bargrave looked back at me with a questioning gaze. I could hardly disappoint him. I held up my hand and scaled it from my elbow to my fingertips, finishing by extruding five gleaming three-inch long claws.Bargrave swallowed hugely. I removed the scales and claws and put. More

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