"Time me."

"Doing what?"

Peter stepped aside and waved a hand around the room. "I'm supposed to cover every room of the house from top to bottom. You know, literally run around each room without knocking over furniture and knickknacks or breaking anything valuable. I end my run here."

I stared at him now. "That's it?" I scratched my head again when he nodded and shrugged, a sheepish grin forming. "Don't you and Trent have something like a secret underground hideout where you play with your superhero toys and dry clean your costumes and stuff?"

"Eric, my parents might be rich, but they're not billionaires. Besides, I think that having a special underground lair for superhero training and stuff is cheating. We've got a lot more obstacle courses above ground. I mean, you've seen my mom's antiques. She lives for those things. I use them for agility training," Peter replied with a faint blush and a devious little chuckle. "Gives her a coronary every time, but what can I do?"

I cocked an eyebrow. "Do you vary your start and finish lines? After a while, I'd expect you to memorize every inch of each room. You'd be flying through your house without much of a challenge."

"The rooftops," he answered quickly and confidently. "I go way above ground and make use of the neighborhood or any given area in the city--well, outside downtown, anyway. If you happened to look up and catch sight of a weird blur flying from one rooftop to another, that'd be me. As far as maternal coronaries go, that's even worse."

I was impressed. "So--who used to time you before I found out about your powers?"

"Whoever happened to be at home. Sometimes I'd just leave the stopwatch on the mantle over there," he said, pointing at the polished mahogany mantle behind me, "and then stop it once I end my run. The results when I did that weren't as accurate as when someone else was keeping time, but there wasn't anything I could do."

I continued to stare at him, not only feeling impressed, but moved and downright proud.

"It's really not as high-tech as you think, Eric. I'd give my soul to have all the gadgets we see in all those comic books, but life doesn't work that way." He cleared his throat. "Trent's not too happy with the lack of comic book awesomeness, actually. Even with a tricked out bike and the swanky bachelor pad he owns, he still whines about the 'lack of proper facilities.'"

"Magnifiman goes all EMO over this? Seriously?" I nearly doubled over in laughter but checked myself when I saw how serious Peter was.

"Everything about being a superhero around here--"

"Or a supervillain?"