Story description: When a telecommuter accidentally spies on her hot neighbor, she learns that the whole neighborhood is filled with superheroes. And she learns that being a sidekick comes with... benefits.

It's a Bird, It's a Plane, It's... My Neighbor?

Hannah was thrilled when her new boss announced that they would start working remotely. Killeen — the manager — already worked remotely herself, and the team first met her on the video call in which she made the announcement.

If Hannah thought that Killeen looked impossibly perfect, she chalked it up to a fancy webcam and filters. And if she found it odd that the previous boss was suddenly replaced by someone Hannah and her teammates had never heard of before that day, she buried those concerns under excitement about not having to make her long commute anymore.

Human Resources forwarded a list of recommendations and best practices for telecommuters. Getting to know your neighbors was on the list, and Hannah took it to heart from the very first day of working from home. She met Edna Eagle from across the street when they both brought in their recycling bins. She introduced herself to the Falcons when she took a walk while their kids were waiting for the school bus. The neighbors to the east of her home — Kevin Kestrel and Stan Sparrow — tended to pick up their mail at the community kiosk at the same time she did.

The one neighbor she never managed to run into was the one who lived to the west of her little bungalow. But nine days after she started working from home, Hannah got her chance. She took a break around 10am and knocked on the door.

A woman answered. Hannah guessed they were the same age — mid-twenties — but this woman looked a little frazzled. "Yes?" she said, looking uncertain.

"Glinda Gosling?" Hannah asked.

"Yes?" Now she looked even more uncertain.

Hannah handed her an envelope. "This was delivered with my mail. I noticed it had your name and address."

"Thanks." Glinda wiped her sopping wet hands on her jeans before taking the letter.

"That's a lovely name," Hannah said. "The only Glinda I know is the good witch from the Wizard of Oz. I mean, I don't know her of course. I just know of her. She was so glamorous, with the glittering gown and floating away in a bubble."

Glinda nodded. "Bubbles. Yes."

"And doesn't Gosling mean baby goose? It's funny how many people in the neighborhood have bird names. Not me, but I'm a night owl, if that counts!"

"Me, too," Glinda said.

"Great to know! I'll keep that in mind if I need to drop by again. I'm trying to get to know my neighbors now that I'm home more. I'm planning to take up birding, too. It was on the list of recommendations for telecommuters. It's a good way to rest your eyes after staring at the computer screen for hours, and it gets you outdoors. Maybe we can start up a neighborhood birding group and compare what we see."

"Maybe," Glinda replied.

"I'm Hannah, by the way. I live in the blue bungalow next door. If you want a coffee break sometime, just drop by. I've got an awesome espresso machine."

"Okay," Glinda said.

"Well, I should get back to work. Great to meet you!"

On the walk back to her house, Hannah chided herself. She tended to ramble when she was attracted to someone, and she found Glinda very attractive — so attractive that when Hannah unboxed her new binoculars that afternoon and tried them out, she may have accidentally pointed them toward the windows of Glinda's house.

Bubbles — that's the first thing Hannah noticed. There were dozens of bubbles, some quite large, floating through the room.

Next she noticed that the bubbles emanated from Glinda's hands.

Then she realized that some of the bubbles had things inside of them, and not things one would think a bubble could carry. The paperclip, sure. But the cutlery seemed more iffy, and the skillet stretched credulity. Hannah put down the binoculars, blinked, and looked again. Yes, that was definitely a full-sized skillet, and it looked like the cast iron version her mother swore by.

A ray of sun broke through the clouds, and the flash of light caused Hannah to bobble the binoculars. That must have caught Glinda's attention, because now she was staring directly at Hannah. A moment later, Glinda closed her curtains, and Hannah decided to walk over to her neighbor's house. To apologize, of course. And also because she was incredibly curious about what Glinda was doing.

Plus, Glinda had been wearing an iridescent, spandex-looking, catsuit kind of thing that was really, really hot. It looked like a form-fitting bubble wrapped around the woman. Hannah very much wanted to see that up close.

The good news was that Glinda actually opened the door when Hannah knocked. The bad news was that she'd donned a big, fuzzy robe over the iridescent garment.

"I am so sorry," Hannah said the moment the door opened. "My binoculars arrived, you know, for the birding I mentioned, and I was trying them out."

"I'm not a bird," Glinda said.

"Well, not technically, no. But you are a Gosling." When that didn't bring a smile, Hannah pivoted away from the attempt at humor. "It was completely wrong of me, and I'm so sorry, and..." She paused, looking over her shoulder to make sure no one was listening in. "Are you a superhero?"

Glinda took a deep breath and then stepped back. "You'd better come inside."

Hannah was surprised to see Edna Eagle in the house. She'd assumed Glinda was alone.

"Would you like some coffee, dear?" asked Edna. Now that Hannah saw them together, she wondered if Edna and Glinda were related.

"That would be great," Hannah said.

With the coffee came explanations. Edna was a retired superhero. In fact, everyone in the neighborhood with a bird-themed name was a superhero. Most were retired, or, in the case of the Falcon family, taking a break to spend time with their young children. Glinda was Edna's granddaughter. "She's a fledgling," Edna explained.

"Apprentice superhero," Glinda added. "Learning the trade."

"You looked really good," Hannah said. She felt her face heat up. "I mean, good at managing the bubbles." She paused as she rethought her words. "Not that you didn't look good in your superhero costume. That is... Well, I'm just going to put my cards on the table. I'm bi, and you're definitely my type, and regardless of your orientation, you're a fascinating person and I'd love to get to know you better. It's entirely up to you if that means friendship or romance or both. And it's fine if your answer changes over time."

Glinda looked imploringly at her grandmother.

Edna shook her head. "This is up to you."

Turning her attention back to Hannah, Glinda said, "Yes. Umm, yes, please! Friends and romance."

"Great," Hannah said. Now she was the one struggling for words.

"The thing about superheroes," Edna said, "Is that most of us are also neurodiverse. It affects us in different ways."

"I swoop in and fix things and then swoop out without talking to anyone," Glinda said. "I need to work on my people skills."

"I have a feeling you could help with that, Hannah," Edna added. "It's a well-documented fact that desire hones a superhero's skills. It doesn't have to be sexual desire, but that seems to be what we're dealing with here. I mean, just look at those bubbles." Edna gestured toward the bubbles that Hannah had watched with the binoculars. The cast iron skillet was still floating. "I've never seen them last so long under so much pressure."

"Oh," said Hannah. "Wow." She was flattered and turned on by the implications.

"I think you're my sidekick," Glinda said.

"I was thinking the same thing," agreed Edna. "Someone to bring you clarity. Would you both agree to a small experiment to confirm it? I'd like to see what happens when you kiss. Hannah, would you be okay with that?"

Hannah nodded. She stepped forward, as did Glinda. The kiss was soft and gentle. A bubble formed around them, and they floated up a few inches.

Hannah giggled. "It tickles." As Glinda strung an enthusiastic line of kisses from Hannah's forehead, down her cheek, and then to her throat, Hannah asked, "But superheroes need to move fast, right? To get to where people need you, I mean. Bubbles float so slowly. How do you —" Her question was cut off when the bubble seemed to snap. Suddenly they were in a bedroom. The bubble rotated until they were horizontal and then it popped, dropping them on the bed.

"Teleportation bubbles," Glinda said.

"Excellent work, dear!" called Edna from outside the bedroom. "Remember consent, and carry on. I'll let myself out."

"Do you want to —" Glinda started.

"Yes!" Hannah said as she pushed Glinda's robe off. She'd never fallen into bed with someone she'd just met, but this felt so right. "Yes to anything you have in mind."

"My hands... They're slick with the bubble film."

"I like it," Hannah said, enjoying the slide of Glinda's hands on her. "I bet you're amazing at shower sex."

"Yes," Glinda confirmed. And later that afternoon she gave a demonstration to prove it.

One month later...

"There's something really odd going on at my company," Hannah told Glinda over lunch. "It's nearly impossible to get in contact with my boss, and others tell me they're experiencing the same thing with their managers. The emails and newsletters we get seem... Well, they're a little off. Like they were written by AI instead of a real person. And when we have video calls with leadership, they always look not quite real. I thought it was a filter, but the more I learn about the superhero business... I'm starting to wonder if a supervillain has taken over and replaced the company's leaders with some kind of insidious technology."

"It does sound like something a supervillain would do," Glinda agreed.

"But how does a superhero intervene? Your bubbles are fantastic, of course, but I don't see how they could help us."

"Not bubbles, no. But there are other types of superheroes. This sounds like Felicity Falcon's speciality. She could point us in the right direction."

Felicity invited them over to her home for a chat, and she did indeed have suggestions. Afterward, she pulled Hannah aside. "You seem sad today. Is something wrong? Other than what's going on at your company?"

"I'm falling for Glinda. Like, completely in love."

"That sounds like something that should make you happy."

"But I'm just a sidekick, someone to help her take the step from fledgling to full superhero. She's made so much progress, Edna says the promotion could happen in the next week."

Felicity shook her head. "Sidekicks don't have to be temporary."

Hannah felt buoyed by hope. "Really?"

"I've been with my sidekick for more than a decade, and we've been married most of that time. You really need to talk to Glinda about what you each want."

###

Felicity watched as Hannah ran to catch up with Glinda. The two women stood on the sidewalk in front of Glinda's house, with Hannah doing most of the talking, as usual. Suddenly a bubble formed around them, and it shot a hundred feet into the air.

"I remember that feeling," Felicity said, smiling at her husband. "I predict they're going to be together for a long time."