At the same time, his sense of smell was filled with a wonderful aroma coming from the kitchen. Kyle Harper at least knew his wife was home - for dinner was already in the oven cooking.

He crossed the way and looked into the archway that led to the kitchen. “Bev?” he called out again. Seeing the room was devoid of activity, he turned and headed back to the living room.

He then put his hand on the stairway railing and began to climb the steps that went to the second floor of the dwelling. With each step he took, he could make out more clearly what sounded like a funky, rhythm guitar beat and the repetitive chanting of the word “ooh-a”. By the time he reached the top landing, it was clear the music was coming from one of the bedrooms at the far end of the hall.

Kyle poked his head into the doorway of the room and took in a sight he wasn’t quite expecting. On the floor of the room was a large trunk that sat open with a few brightly colored garments hanging over the one edge. Before him was his beautiful blonde wife of twenty-one years and their seventeen year old daughter, both dressed in bell-bottomed pants and wildly garish tops of polyester. The two women were laughing and smiling, mother teaching daughter some out-dated dance moves; they both were entirely caught up in the moment and failed to note his arrival.

“Ahem,” the man said, clearing his throat loudly. “I didn’t know there was a party going on here.”

“Oh, hi, Daddy!” Clare Harper exclaimed.

“Honey, you’re home,” Beverly Harper said as she crossed over to greet her husband with a kiss. She glanced at the digital clock on the teenager’s nightstand. “Oh, gosh, I guess the time got away from us.”

“Sorry, Daddy,” Clare added, “but we were having so much fun.”

“So,” Kyle said as he glanced down at the old trunk that he last remembered was in the attic. Inside he could see some other old clothing, belonging to both he and his wife. Most of it was folded fairly neatly except for the items the two had been trying on. And at the bottom of the trunk, peeking out, were an old familiar silver costume that he often wore and the red and gray one that was his wife’s. “What’s going on here anyway? Is the church having a rummage sale or something?”

“Clare wanted to go through some of my old clothes,” the older woman explained. “Halloween’s coming in a few weeks, and she was looking for something to borrow.”

“Anita and I are going to wear some retro stuff for this costume party we all got invited to,” Clare added as she crossed the room to her boom box stereo. “You know, like those kids wear on That 70’s Show.” She lowered the volume on the disco music to a more acceptable level.

“That 70’s show?” Kyle repeated.

Beverly caught the perplexed look that was crossing her husband’s face. “Oh, honey, you know – it’s that new comedy with the teenagers. The show is set in the 1970’s.”

“I remember the era,” Kyle said.

“Oh, and it has that good looking young man that plays the clueless one,” Beverly continued. “Clare, what’s his name?”

“Ashton Kutcher?” the teen replied.

“That’s the one,” Beverly said.

“Mom!” Clare said as she quickly realized her mother thought someone her age was cute.

Kyle just shook his head. “I think you both watch too much TV.” His stomach grumbled, loud enough to get his attention. “How long until dinner, Bev?”

“Another hour at least,” Beverly replied. “We should be done with all this by then.”

The man nodded again. “Sounds like I can get a little more work done then,” he said and turned to walk away. “Let me know if you need my help getting that back into the attic.”

“We will dear,” Beverly called to him.

As he started to leave, Kyle overheard Clare ask, “Mom, the group that did this song – Foxy – that’s a funny name.”

“Not really,” Beverly replied. “That was a 70’s slang term for someone who was stylish or very attractive…”

Kyle walked back to the stairs. But as he started to descend them his thoughts began to wander; the clothes and the music and the discussion triggered a memory he had long since forgotten in the back of his mind.

And it all came rushing back forward to him.

***

April 1976.

A younger Kyle Harper stood in the living room of a small one-bedroom apartment in Victoria. On the couch, beneath a green and brown crocheted afghan made by her grandmother, lay the equally younger Beverly Witter.

“Aaachoooo!” the young woman sneezed into a tissue.

The brown haired male stepped back out of reflex and into a pile of previously discarded, used tissues. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Kyle asked. “I could stay you know…clean up or make you some soup or something.”

“I’ll be fine,” Beverly said through her stuffy, red nose. “The doctor said it’s just one of those forty-eight hour things. He gave me some medication and told me to sleep it off.”

“Are you sure? Do you need anything else?”

“Go,” the blonde woman said. “I’ll be fine, really. Besides, you need to go talk to Sal about that case…”

“It could wait,” Kyle suggested.

“No!” Beverly said a bit firmly. “That’s important. You can come by and check on me…aaachooo!” She sneezed again and then blew into another tissue. “…in the morning if you want. Take my spare key.”

Kyle went into the nearby open kitchen area and pulled the small metal item out of one of the drawers. He then crossed back over to the couch. “Okay,” he said. He leaned down to give Beverly a kiss but then parted her blonde bangs and kissed her forehead instead. He could feel the warmth from her fever on his lips. “Maybe you should move to your bed.”

“I will later,” she said. “Go – catch the bad guys.”

Kyle smiled. “Will do.”

An hour later, on a darkened rooftop, the silver clad costumed and masked Kyle met with a man in a plaid suit jacket, white shirt and wide brown necktie. “So, that’s what I got,” the later said as he took the last bite of a chocolate donut and washed it down with some lukewarm coffee in a Styrofoam cup. “Are you sure you can handle it, Steel?”

“Yeah, Bonilla,” the hero said. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Where’s Magnet tonight anyway?” Salvatore Bonilla asked.

“She’s involved with something personal,” Steel said. “But she did want me to tell you congratulations on the promotion.” The hero put his hand on the police officer’s shoulder. “Sergeant, huh? You’re moving up in the world.”

Bonilla smiled. “I do owe a little credit to you two,” the black haired man said. “After all, you’ve been a big help to me on quite a few cases this past year.”

Steel nodded. “We work well together,” he said. “And it helps us a lot having someone well connected to confer with.”

“So, you want me to have my men in place ahead of time?”

“Have them give me about ten minutes from the appointed time,” Steel said confidently.

With the sound of splintering wooden boards, Steel burst through the back door of the warehouse building in order to surprise the half dozen men who had chosen this location for their clandestine meeting. “Everyone, freeze!” he announced. “You’re all under arrest!”

“It’s Steel!” one of the men exclaimed. “Get him!”

A number of the men quickly pulled hand guns from inside their jackets and began to open fire on the hero.

As shots and screams rang out, one of the men scurried to the crates that served as a make-shift table and quickly tossed a number of sealed packets back into a briefcase. Slamming it shut, the man then bolted for the door.

“It’s no good!” one of the shooters said. “The bullets bounce right off’a him!”

“He’s only one guy. We can take him!” another shouted.

Steel smiled. “You dopes must be sampling your own wares,” he said as he grabbed the man nearest him and tossed him across the way. “Otherwise you’d know it takes a lot more than regular pistols to bother me!”

The hero then reached out and grabbed a second man. “Now, let’s make this easier on everyone and just end this now.”

The captive man took a swing at the hero with a free arm. Steel easily dodged the punch and connected with one of his own. And though he pulled the punch a bit because he knew he was dealing with normal opponents, it was still enough to send the man flying backwards and into some large boxes.

Two more of the men charged him, ready to hit him with anything that was nearby. One of them swung a two-by-four at the hero.

Steel just threw up his left arm to block the attack, causing the board to snap in two upon impact. “Or not,” he said with a sigh. He pulled back his fist and let the punches fly.

Steel actually didn’t mind getting into a nice fight; sometimes it felt good to flex the old muscles and really cut loose. But guys like this weren’t likely to give him too much of a work-out. Sure, they might actually take a couple punches and even come back for more. But in the end, the hero would hardly work up that much of a sweat to put them down. Of course, if Magnet had been by his side, it would have ended even faster.

Before he knew it, four of the men were sprawled on the floor. Now where was…?

“Steel, duck!” a female voice called out to him.

Instinctively, he obeyed.

A metal hook and tackle suspended from a rope went whizzing over his head. Had he been standing fully tall, it would have connected squarely with the side of his skull – enough to at the very least daze him and allow the criminals to make their escape.

As he glanced back to where the attack had come, Steel saw something move quickly across the shadows.

There was the sound of a brief fight, mostly of a man yelping out in pain as a bunch of blows were delivered. Then, jumping down from the shadows appeared a costumed woman with the now unconscious man in tow.

“Who the…?” Steel asked as he gazed upon the vision of beauty.

She was a tall, athletically built black woman with a large afro. She wore a gray mask across her eyes which matched the low-cut, tight fitting leotard that covered her torso. Her gloves were also gray, elbow-lengthed, with white fur trim on the edges. Her knee-high boots were similarly colored and adorned.

The woman tossed the man she had just subdued onto the floor with the others. “I am called the Gray Fox,” she said with an exotic, slightly foreign accent. “I am happy to see you were not hurt by these scum.”

Steel smiled. “Thanks, Gray Fox,” he said. “I owe you one. With your help we’ve managed to stop a major drug operation before the stuff could hit the streets of Victoria.” He glanced back and only then realized something. “The drugs? They’re gone!”

The Gray Fox frowned. “It was the supplier – Juan Alvarez,” she said. “I had trailed him here to your city – hoping to capture him and his contacts all together when the sale went down.”

“Damn!” Steel said, pounding his fist on the crates and creating a huge hole. “He must have slipped out during all the confusion!”

The woman reached for his hand. “Come! We may be able to catch him yet!”

“How so?” Steel asked. “You know where he’s going to?”

“I know where he was staying, yes. If we hurry, we can get him before he leaves town.” The Gray Fox led Steel out to the back alley and an awaiting motorcycle. The bike was all chrome and sleek, which rather fit the woman’s whole appearance. She mounted the bike in a smooth, fluid motion. “Hop on!”

Steel heard the sound of the approaching police sirens. Bonilla and his boys would be there in a moment to clean up the mess they’d left, as was pre-arranged. Nothing more to do now but tie up the loose end. “Okay,” he agreed as he climbed onto the seat behind the woman.

As she kick-started the bike, Gray Fox turned her head back slightly and said, “Hold on, tightly!”

Steel put his hands around her tight waist as the woman opened the throttle. The two rode off.

With Steel’s knowledge of the streets of Victoria, the pair made it to their destination in no time at all. The two then stood in the darkened alleyway across from a run-down building that rented out rooms on a day by day basis. Standing behind the woman but close enough to feel her press against his body and to whisper in her ear, Steel asked “Are you sure this is the place?”

“Yes,” the Gray Fox said softly. “I have been trailing this man since he left South America where he produces the drugs. I would have thought he was headed for Miami, but instead he came north to a less crowded market. Perhaps he is afraid of the competition he would have found there.”

“So, you’re from South America then? I didn’t know they had foxes below the Equator.”

The woman smiled slightly. “The gray fox is a New World species,” she explained. “They are found in both the United States and South America. They tend to inhabit swamps, wooded and brushy areas that afford them cover.”

Steel nodded. “That explains how you managed to sneak into that warehouse undetected. Just like your namesake, eh?”

“Gray foxes tend to be strictly nocturnal,” she said with a slight hint of flirtation in her voice. “They enjoy the night – as do I.” To emphasize her point, she pressed her backside even closer against his muscular form. Her smile grew broader as she recognized his growing interest.

Steel swallowed. “Yeah, I bet you do.” There was an awkward silence between them for a moment.

Steel felt the need to break it. “I wonder how long we have to…”

“Shhh,” Gray Fox said. “Look! Alvarez.”

Their stakeout was about to come to an end as the South American man exited the entrance of the building with a suitcase in each hand. He quickly glanced down both ends of the street before making a bee-line to his rental car parked on the street. Moving to the back of the vehicle, he put down the bag in his right hand so he could fish out the keys from his pants pocket. The keys jangled in his nervous hand as he tried to fit one into the trunk lock. After a few seconds, he had it and he popped open the trunk.

Alvarez hefted the bag in his left hand directly into the trunk. He then reached down, picked up the other bag and tossed it too into the trunk. His hand went up to pull the lid closed; he was surprised when the metal closure resisted his efforts to tug it shut.

Turning to his left, he saw why.

A silver gloved hand held the edge of the trunk door firmly, and a muscular arm covered in silver spandex leveraged it wide open. Steel glared at the man mere inches from him. “Going somewhere, Alvarez?” he asked. “So, where’re the goods?” With his free hand, the hero began to shove the suitcases in the open trunk aside, looking for the briefcase he had caught out of the corner of his eye when he burst into the warehouse earlier in the evening.

“Aaaaaah!” Alvarez screamed as he jumped back. He reached into his jacket, pulling out a handgun and began to fire.

Steel frowned as the bullets bounced off his chest. “Again with the guns!” he growled. “You know, it gets old after the first time you’re shot at in a night.” He lunged forward and grabbed for the gun, wrenching it from the shooter’s hands. As his fist closed down on the metal and squeezed it into a non-working state, the South American bolted.

The man got a few yards away when the gray-clad beauty flipped down from a lamppost above and landed in a threatening stance in his path. “Going somewhere, mouse?” she asked with a wicked smile.

“Aaaaaah! O ela-diablo!” Alvarez cried out in Portuguese.

The South American man backed up quickly, only to run smack into Steel.

“End of the line, pal!” the hero of Victoria said. “There’re some people who want to talk to you about that filth you’ve brought into this country!”

The red and blue waves of light from the patrol car washed over Steel as it pulled away with the captive drug supplier handcuffed in the backseat. Once again, the hero had the feeling of a job well done.

A gray gloved hand came to rest on his shoulder from behind. “We make a pretty good team,” the Gray Fox said. “Our costumes even compliment one another. Perhaps I should consider making this city my new home.” She began to rub her hand gently down his upper arms.

The brown haired man turned around to face the masked black woman who had sidled up behind him. “Thanks,” he said as he turned around and took a half-step back. “But I have a partner already.”

Gray Fox smiled. “Of course you do,” she said. “Still…” She took a half-step forward. “I seem to recall you said something earlier about owing me for helping you back at the warehouse. That handsome face of yours might have gotten scratched if not for me, yes?” She continued to move forward, sliding her right foot between his open stance and pressing her body firmly against his. She moved her face close to his, her sensuous lips parting slightly, and firmly placed a kiss on his lips.

Steel thought for a half-second to back away in protest, but his body was having none of that. Instead, he kept his ground.

Gray Fox noted this and parted her lips slightly. She was very pleased when he reciprocated. For a few minutes, the two remained in that position, entwined in a longing exchange.

A few hours later, Steel lay back on pink satin sheets with little more than his silver mask on staring at the ceiling of this woman’s… this stranger’s motel room. His thoughts kept nagging him about how he had gotten here, how he had been convinced to do so. Or had it even taken much convincing at all?

The woman he knew only as Gray Fox rolled over and placed her bare hand upon his broad chest, gently stroking the wisps of brown hair that adorned it. “I told you we make a pretty good team,” she said in a soft yet sultry voice. “You are pretty fantastic, you know?”

He moved his hand to hers and then gently lifted it away. “I...” he fumbled to find the right words; nothing really came.

He moved back the top sheet and got quickly up out of the bed. “I’m sorry,” he said as he reached around the floor of the dimly lit room to find his discarded clothing. Hurriedly he began to dress. “We never should…I mean…I have someone…”

Gray Fox smiled though the look on her face had changed from earlier. While they had been in action, she looked at him with allure and desire. His commanding demeanor in combat was exciting. And even an hour or so ago, once he gave in and accepted her invitation. But all of that macho exterior seemed to have vanished or was exhausted after their heated intercourse together.

“Yes, your partner,” she said with a slight sigh. “So you said earlier.”

After putting on his pants and boots, he began to pull over his head the matching silver shirt. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I appreciate your help…on the arrest. It was great and all. You’re great. But this…” He made a slight gesture with his hand, indicating the room which the two had found themselves in. “This was a one-time thing. I hope you understand.”

The woman half nodded. “I had expected as much,” she said reluctantly as she sat up in the bed. The pink satin sheet fell away, exposing her still naked body. “Still, you cannot blame a girl for trying, can you?”

Steel paused, taking one more look, a second at the most, at her beautiful, exotic body. Then, he turned away quickly. “I have to go!” And with that, he left the room with the front door slamming behind him.

***

October 1998

And that’s when I realized how much Beverly meant to me, Kyle thought as he sat on the couch in the living room. I told her the next day that I loved her and that she was the only woman for me. He leaned back for a second, pondering. Still, I wonder whatever happened to…? His thoughts were interrupted as he heard the sound of two pairs of feet descending the stairs.

Beverly was the first to cross into the room. “Oh, there you are, Kyle,” she said. “Sorry we took so long.” She made her way towards the kitchen, calling behind her. “We’ll have everything on the table in a few minutes.”

“Need my help, Mom?” Clare asked.

“Definitely,” Beverly replied.

As Kyle watched his wife and daughter disappear into the kitchen, he couldn’t help but realize that he was the luckiest man in the world. Whatever happened in the past was just that - the past. No sense in wasting any more time thinking about that. What was the point?