“Martinaaaaaaa.” Brandt groaned from under his oversized poncho. As the rain powered over the city the ground grew slick. As each raindrop fell Brandt tensed more as he and Martina explore the viewing deck far above even the tallest casinos and hotels.

“Brandtttttttttt.” Martina responds coyly as she makes dramatic ballroom style steps toward the edge of the glass viewing deck. Martina is uncovered, her light red work polo now a slick maroon on her chest and her slacks a taupe mess clinging to her legs.

“Terry‘ll be mad at us!” Brandt attempted to reason as they reach the midway point of the edge of the glass and the covered staircase downwards.

“We already clocked out. We are doing this as our own people. Our own people with free will! Don’t you miss that B?” Martina argues spreading her arms out up to the sky.

A stray snap of thunder rolled. From this high up it might as well have been right next to them. Brandt ducked in fear, while Martina stood still. Her face porcelain under the rain and nearly serene. Brandt would be in awe of her audaciousness normally but he was far too soaked to care.

“You know what I miss?” Brandt starts as he trudges for the stairs. “My warm bed Martina, I’d like to get back to it dry and not in a full body cast.”

“Fine, leave, see if I care.” Martina responds without turning around.

“Fine!” Brandt yells out, before stomping the rest of the way to the staircase.

A longer clap of thunder rings out from the curdled grey and muddy blue sky. Only slightly farther away a flash of lightning strikes the ground below.

“God….” Brandt whines as his conscience gets the better of him.

Brandt, knowing better, doesn’t attempt another plea to get off the deck, but instead prys off his charcoal black poncho.

As thunder rolls closer through the city frentic lighting follows it each time only seconds after.

Brandt begins his cold wet journey to the near edge of the viewing deck. Each thunder and subsequent lightning bolt tossed down into the Earth rattles his nerves and makes his hair stick up.

“Here, take it” Brandt says in a shout as the wind picks up.

Martina only answers by squeezing his hand and nodding her head. Slowly and slightly the rain begins to lighten. As Brandt jogs back towards the staircase he notices a large lead colored cloud quickly converge over them from the westward sky.

A thunderclap, then another, then another sound overhead. The rain goes from teardrops to fat blobs.

Brandt looks over at Martina the poncho cloaking her entire figure in black. Sixty feet away. Maybe further. Just close enough to the edge to get his heart pumping so irregularly it may explode.

In a nearly mathematical fashion, one flash of lightning stikes, Number 1, then another fresh after it. Number 2. They connect with the hbuilding just west of them.

Brandt feels his hair stand up on his arms and even his head. Lightning strike.

As he tries to run back for Martina his feet slip from under him. While this maybe only seconds, Brandt feels like he’s falling for minutes, nay, hours.

“MARTINA!” Brandt shouts, his voice gargle from the blood rushing into his mouth.

Like in a grand finale, lightning connects to Martina and sprouts off to the Highest point of the hotel tower.

Number 3