"Again, thanks for letting me stay over," Carl said. He was hunkering on the seat opposite mine, his face even paler and puffier than usual. He looked like I felt—hungover. "Last night, after the party, I definitely wouldn't have found the train to take me back home."

The feeling at the base of my skull was not an actual headache, more like the concept of one—a faint pressure triggering occasional waves of nausea.

"Sure." I did my best to focus on Carl's headrest. Anything stationary was better than the cityscape rolling along the train's window. "It got kind of late yesterday."

Carl nodded, stifling a yawn. "I loved the party, though."

"Thanks, man. It was a pleasure having you and the crowd." When I had said "the crowd," I meant almost everyone from the institute. "Turning 39 deserves a celebration."

Carl wrinkled his nose at me.

"All right, all right. 40, I mean." I held up my hands in defeat.

For a moment, we just sat there without talking. Forty—I had finally crossed the threshold to the dark middle ages.

"Hey, who was that Venus chick, by the way?" Carl asked.

"Um... Venus?" I loosened the knot of my tie—it harassed my throat.

"Yes, Venus. The one that collided with Helen and your daughter in the doorway, and who got stare-stabbed by them as they left."

I felt heat slowly meld into my cheeks. "She... She's... just someone I recently met. I actually met her here in this train, by the way. We had dinner together, last month, and I invited her to the party."

Carl raised his eyebrows. "And..."

And what? A good question. We had had a nice and expensive evening at Mastro's. We had talked about books. She was into nonfiction; I was into fiction. We had also talked about movies. She was into thrillers; I was into romantic comedies. About our exes. She had many; I had one.

Our evening together had ended in an awkward goodbye—the kind of goodbye where both parties are not sure where things are headed.

The day after the Mastro's, she had left for a vacation, but I had invited her to my birthday party.

I shook my head. "And that's all."

"That's all? Venus did seem interested in you."

"Maybe she was, I don't know." I shrugged. "Women are impossible to read. But I don't think it's... it."

"It?"

"Yes, not it."

Carl tilted his head and raised one corner of his mouth.

"You know..." I didn't like the topic. "Venus is nice and pretty. But yesterday, I realized there's something lacking." I searched for words. "The spark."

"The spark?"

"Yes, the spark that lights the fire." I looked for another simile or a metaphor; for something smart, or deep an experienced man in his early forties would say.

After checking that the third man in our compartment wore headphones and wouldn't listen in, I leaned forward, closer to Carl and continued, voice lowered. "With the spark, 'the morning after'..." I used air quotes. "... is pure bliss. Without it, it's just awkward."

Carl chuckled, and then he spread his hands. "You know what? Why don't you just give yourself a break, man. Enjoy Venus, even if it's for a temporary stop. There are worse planets to land on."

A temporary stop?

No. I wasn't interested in temporary stops. The only stop that might interest me right now was a stop to the queasiness in my guts.

Carl grinned. "Anyway, Helen sure wasn't pleased to see a woman she didn't know coming to your party."

I shrugged.

"The Helen spark, at least, is gone, too," he said. "Good riddance."

Was that true? Was the Helen spark gone, too? It was hard to say. But did we need it if we had Janice? If getting back together would have a purpose?

I took off my glasses and wiped my face.

As I set them back onto my nose, my gaze moved from Carl's grin to the woman with the sword in the next train and then back to the guy with the headphones.

Wait. A woman with a sword?

Right, there she was, grinning at me through the two windows.

With braced teeth.

Her!

She looked straight at me while holding up a mighty broadsword as if she were about to smite her enemies.

Her naked shoulders shone in a pearly white between her wild, black mane and a red-and-gold bustier-corset-thing. A metal headband clutched her forehead, sparkling in the sun.

Wow, what a sight. She reminded me of someone. A game character?

Anyway, she looked awesome. I gave her a double thumbs-up.

Her smile broadened.

She mouthed something at me. It could have been anything, like love you, fuck off, or thank you.

"Wow! Don't tell me you know Wonder Woman?" Carl's eyes were wide open as he looked at her.

Wonder Woman, that new movie. That was who she was dressed like.

"Hello?" Carl waved his palm in front of my face. "Earth to Evan!"

"Huh?"

"I was asking if you knew Wonder Woman." He gestured his thumb at her.

"I..." Blood rushed into my cheeks, and I moved a hand through my hair. "Yes, kind of."

"Kind of?"

"I've seen her a couple of times in the mornings. Well, not as Wonder Woman. Sometimes her hair's green or blue. She's on the northbound train, and I'm on this one."

"Her hair is green or blue?" Carl laughed. "You really do meet interesting ladies on your commutes."

She still held that sword up in silent vigil—I wondered how heavy it was.

"That look on your face... You're smitten by her, admit it." Carl sat back and crossed his arms.

Was I? Smitten?

"Look at her sword," I said. "She's good at smiting."

And I was good at deflecting inquisitive questions. Carl was way too nosy.

"I see that, yes. Go for her, then. Give her your number."

I shook my head. "I tried. She's engaged or married or something. I saw her with her lover boy."

"Oh, shit." Carl rubbed his chin.

Yes, that summed it up rather nicely.

I forced my gaze away from Carl's puffy features, seeking out hers instead.

Another Wonder Woman had joined her. That one was smaller, a Wonder Girl, but she wore the same kind of outfit. They talked to each other.

Wonder Womanizing had to be a thing with the gals.

My Wonder Woman rose.

Well, I knew she wasn't my Wonder Woman, but in some sense, she felt like that.

I had never seen her standing before. A disturbingly short, dark blue skirt revealed disturbingly long legs.

At that moment, her train lurched forward—just a few inches—and stopped again. The motion made her lose her balance. She gestured wildly, sending her sword flying. One of her long legs came up, almost kicking a gaping passenger with a red-and-gold boot. Then she fell, vanishing from view.

"Oops!" Carl said.

The Wonder Girl held a hand over her mouth as she stared at her felled companion.

A hero killed in a fierce battle. I hoped not.

Her train moved once more, this time for good, and the scene was carried away.

"A fallen hero." Carl chuckled.

A fallen angel.

"Maybe you'd better go for Venus," he said. "Unbalanced women can be a pain. Life's a compromise."

Maybe it was. But I didn't want compromise.