Four people were already seated at the table when Ian and Betty Jo walked into the dining room. Patrick and Adele were leaning close together talking. Cole looked his usual monkish self, Kessa looked lovely, sitting beside him.  They all looked up as Ian and Betty Jo joined them.

"Marc and Dinah decided not to, ah, appear," Ian said.

"Oh, Goddess," Adele said with a giggle. "Couldn't stay out of bed for dinner... They're hopeless."  The look she flicked toward Patrick seemed to say she envied Dinah just a bit.

Servers came and whisked off the two extra chairs and place settings, rearranging things so quickly Ian and Betty Jo were seated quite quickly.

"Patrick.  Cole," Ian said with a nod. "I trust you're both doing well?"

"Thank you, we are," Patrick replied almost formally.  "Are you enjoying your stay on Sutta?"

Ian glanced over at Betty Jo. "Thank you, Patrick. We are. And Kessa, you look lovely. I'm so glad you've joined us."

"Thank you.  I'm glad you asked," Kessa said.  She smiled at Betty Jo.  "Though I think lovely should be reserved for Betty Jo."

"All of the ladies look wonderful," Cole replied, struggling to add something to the conversation.

Adele smiled happily, rewarding him with a wink.

Patrick sighed softly.  He hated small talk.  It made him want to say something inappropriate just to break the ice.  "I'm told," he said quietly, carefully into the lurking awkwardness, "that Ms DeCara has disappeared.

"Oh?" Ian asked. "I hadn't heard. Perhaps she just decided to go home."

"Hotel security doesn't think so.  All her belongings are still in her suite but she hasn't been seen," Patrick said.

Ian glanced over at Betty Jo, checking to be sure she'd taken this news well. "Interesting. I don't... didn't know her."

Betty gave his hand a reassuring squeeze under the table.  "I gather only Marc might be said to know her.  Well," she amended, "and Stephen of course."

"Yes, true. She was.. Ah, yes, her," Ian said as he remembered the whole story of Home and Doni and the children. He hadn't known any of them then, beyond a name.

"No loss," Cole muttered.

"No, I suppose not," Patrick said.

The servers arrived then and took orders for drinks. "I wonder how the meeting with the Barons went," Ian commented. "Anyone heard?'

"A lot of time wasted, I'm told," Patrick said as he reached for a bread stick.  But whatever, they'll be done tomorrow."

"And we'll be off, I expect," Adele added. "The dragons will miss the place, even if none of us will, right Kessa?"

"A major switching station in the dragon grapevine," she said laughing.  "They're the biggest gossips.  Nara was whining about leaving this morning, but then she bragged about all the news she has to take home."

"Will you be going home soon?" Ian asked.

Cole looked up at the question.

"I don't know.  I was hoping..." she blushed lightly.  "I was thinking of asking Marc and Dinah if I could stay, with the crew I mean.  I heard him saying to Laz he wanted to add a couple people for security.  He's worried about Dinah."

"Yes, I can understand why he might be, given the recent attempt on her life. I thought the Houses were rather, pardon me, old fashioned. Will your father allow it?" Ian asked.

Adele rolled her eyes. "Pot. Kettle."

"My father died a long time ago.  My brother Malec is the Head of my House now.  And he prefers...well what you might call the older ways, I suppose.  At least when it comes to protecting the females he feels responsible for."

"Malec?"  Betty Jo smiled.  "Then you must be Malachi's sister."

Kessa's smile widened.  "Yes.  He's with the Vampire Prince now.  I haven't seen him in a while now.  He seems pretty busy with whatever it is Prince Carmine has going on."

"Yes, not to mention with the dragon babies," Ian added dryly.  Then he added, "I wish you luck both with getting a position and with talking the Maelcom into allowing you to stay."

"Oh yes," Adele added. "I hope so. And you can come and visit us at Averyton. Although we don't have a real mountain for Nara. We do have a few nice hills though."

Kessa laughed.  "Marc and Dinah talked him into letting me come along on this trip.  And if they take me on I won't ask.  I'll just let him know the trip's been extended, or something like that."

Adele grinned. "That's how to do it, isn't it Betty Jo. Her Daddy is the protective sort, too. Men," Adele muttered disgustedly.

Ian raised an eyebrow.

Betty Jo grinned at him.  "It's always easier in these circumstances to beg forgiveness than it is to ask permission.  Especially when you're light years apart."

"No, it isn't," Ian muttered, glaring at Adele.

She stuck her tongue out at her father. "He talks a good story but I have him wrapped around my little finger."

"Yeah, but you're not supposed to tell him that," Betty Jo said.  "Didn't I teach you better than that."

Adele laughed and wrapped an arm around Patrick's arm. "He's a pussy cat," she whispered to Patrick. Really he is."

"I know," Betty Jo said.

Ian frowned but was spared a response as drinks arrived. Cole glanced over at Kessa. "I'm glad you came."

She smiled.  "Me too."

"I'm not very good at this stuff," Cole added. "Table talk, I mean."

"Most people aren't.  If it's inane and innocuous it's probably safe," she whispered back as Ian's cell phone rang.  

Ian frowned but pulled it out. He looked at the number and his frown got darker. "Yes," he answered it.

"Ah, so nice to hear your voice," Collins said.  "And Betty is so lovely, sitting next to you.  I just makes me realize, all over again, how much lovelier she is on my arm."

Ian glanced over at Betty Jo who was laughing at something Adele had said. He glanced around the room but didn't spot Collins.  "What is it you want?"

"Just calling to say good bye," Collins answered.  "I didn't want you to worry."

"You won't be missed."

Betty Jo turned at his words, looking at him.

"I'm wounded," Collins said, amused.  "But there's others you would miss, aren't there?"

Ian fought for calm. This was not the place. Nor the time. He'd planned to confront Collins later but... perhaps this was better.

"Goodbye," he said to the phone and shut it.  When Betty Jo looked over at him, he said, "I've got to see to something. Please. Eat when the food comes. I'll be back soon."  He leaned over to kiss her cheek.

"Ian?" she said, worry making her tense.

He met her eyes. "I'll be just a moment. No worries."

She nodded slowly.  "I'll be here."

"Excuse me," he said as he got to his feet. He walked away without a backward glance, heading toward a side corridor. He'd already hung a spell that would let him find Collins wherever he was. He activated it now, and zapped himself straight to the location it depicted. He'd already activated his power spells and fired the moment he materialized, not giving Collins a moment to prepare.

It hit Collins square in the chest, cutting through cloth and skin and bone, Collins blown back with the force of it even as he fell.

Ian fired again, and again, no emotion showing, just the power he'd gathered aimed at the man who'd hurt Betty Jo. Whatever else he'd done, Ian didn't really care. It was entirely what he'd done to her that motivated him now, and the implied threat in that phone call.  Not that he'd really needed a reminder.

He'd never wasted time on remorse or doubt. Once he'd decided to kill someone it was automatic, and that's what he did now, aiming every bit of power he could muster at the body that lay crumpled against the wall.

He sensed, distantly, that someone was pounding down the corridor toward Collins' rooms. He hesitated, wanting to check, just to be certain that Collins was dead. But then someone was pounding on the door, and a weapon was used against the lock.

Ian cursed, took a moment to slam the room with a spell that would erase any hidden cameras or other data collectors and zapped out just as the door to the corridor was kicked open.

He zapped himself back to their own rooms and gave himself a moment, now shaking a bit with fatigue. He sank into a chair, the after-effects of the action getting to him now, mostly in the form of exhaustion and magical backlash. He killed him. Betty Jo was free.

The assistant manager's eyes widened in horror at the body on the floor.  Dead.  Murdered.  In his hotel.  He shoved his fingers through his hair.  He took a deep breath his eyes narrowing, focusing on the hand nearest to him.  Then he issued a rapid-fire string of orders, relief edging past shock.

Ian rinsed his face with cold water, got himself together and zapped himself back down to the dining room, walking back in not many minutes after he'd left. The food was only just arriving.  "Sorry," he said as he took his seat, smiling at Betty Jo.

She took his hand under the table, smiling at him, the worry mostly hidden.  "You didn't order any wine."

"Oh how gauche of me," he replied motioning to the sommelier.  "A bottle of your best," he looked around at what everyone was eating, "red."

"Yes, sir!" the sommelier replied.

She cleansed the rest of the make-up off her face and brushed out her hair.  In the bedroom she could hear the faint sounds Ian made as he got ready for bed.  They were a comforting background, a signal of normality that always made her feel secure.  But then he made her feel that way.  She wondered, as she often did, if he'd be horrified or pleased to know that.  She clicked the light off and paused in the doorway, watching him for a long moment as he hung up his tux.  Then, without a word, she crossed to the sitting room and poured two drinks and carried them back into the bedroom, setting one on his side of the bed and taking hers with her as she settled herself against the pillows. Then she waited.

He smiled when he saw her there, then the smile wavered. He walked over and slipped into bed beside her, wrapping an arm around her. "I've something of some importance to tell you. I'm not sure how you'll take it, so I suppose the best way is to just say it?"  He looked a bit nervous.

"If you think I'm likely to hurt you because of it, I'll go stand across the room while I adjust," she said.

He took a fortifying sip of his drink. "When I left the table I visited Collins. I killed him."  He said it flatly, unemotionally, his eyes on her.

The words made no sense at first even though she knew that's why they were here.  The angry bees buzzing in her ears didn't help nor did the feeling of vertigo.  Vaguely, in the back of her mind she felt like she was outside of herself watching as the glass she held seemed to tremble but it wasn't the glass, she realized.  It was her hand, and the tremor was turning violent as it spread to the rest of her body and from the edge of her vision blackness bled across her field of view until it swallowed her.

Ian gently removed the glass from her hand and pulled her closer.  "I'm sorry. I didn't know how else to tell you."

She focused on breathing and let the scent and feel and sound of him fill her senses.  "Don't be sorry.  There's nothing to be sorry for.  I...I just wasn't expecting it."

"I know. I... He.. He made me angry. I didn't .. I didn't think. I just hit him with power."

"Are you alright?"

He looked down at her, surprise showing on his face. "Yes, of course. It's you I'm worried about."

"Acute relief is my diagnosis," she said, trying to lighten the mood.  She felt like she needed to reboot her brain or something.  It just wasn't sinking in.  Instead it was just sitting there, tightening her chest and making it hard to breathe.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I hadn't.. I mean, I planned to kill him, just not then and not quite that way. We may be visited by the authorities, I suppose," he added after a moment. "If anyone knows that I came here after him."

"Do you want to leave?"

"No, not unless you'd prefer it.  But I should warn Marc. And tell Patrick. I'm not sure how he'll take it."

She swallowed.  "No.  No, I don't."  She thought for a moment.  "Tell him away from Adele."

"Staying will look less suspicious, I'd think. And yes, excellent idea, to give Patrick some privacy when I tell him. I could go tell him now, and call Marc. But first I wanted to be sure you were all right."

"I'm fine," she said.  "I think Patrick has a right to know."

"Yes, agreed," Ian said.  He gave her a long measuring look before he got up, drew on the bottom of his pajamas and walked out into the main part of the suite.

He took a deep breath and knocked on the bedroom door where Adele and Patrick must already be in bed.  "Patrick, may I have a word, please?  Just you."

 Patrick was in pajama bottoms too when he came out into the sitting room.  "What do you need?" he asked, combing his fingers through his hair.

Ian had poured them both drinks. He held out the drink to Patrick. "I'm... I killed your father earlier tonight."

Patrick took the glass automatically.  He held it for a moment and then he drank it down.  Finally he said, "You had reason to."

"You knew I wanted to. I hope.. I hope you'll not hold it against Adele. She knew nothing about it. I.. It wasn't planned."  Ian held out the bottle to Patrick.

"Jesus!  I don't hold it against you," he said bluntly as he took the bottle.

"Would you like me to tell Cole, or would you prefer to? I've no idea if the management here will be around asking questions.  I'd rather he didn't answer the door only to hear this, but instead hear it from me. Or you."

"I'll tell him," Patrick said automatically.  "Will you...uhm...have trouble because of this?"

"I don't know. Don't worry about it. I'm not. I expect Marc and Dinah have enough clout to keep things relatively quiet."

"Yeah, I'm sure."  He held the bottle towards Ian.   "I'll uhm...yeah.  Thank you for telling me.  I'll, uh, tell Cole right away.  God knows what Jenelle's going to do," he added to himself, a vocal afterthought.

"I'm sorry, Patrick. About everything," Ian said, eying the young man.

Patrick focused on him again.  "It's not your fault.  But thank you.  Is Ms DuBois alright?"

"It was a shock. I'm not very good at this sort of thing. But I think she'll be fine."

Patrick hesitated.  "I uh...well it's none of my business but worrying about you might be useful."

"I beg your pardon?" Ian asked, looking a bit confused.

"For her," Patrick said, still hesitant.  "A different focus."

"Ah. Yes, well, amazingly enough she did ask me if I was all right."

It was Patrick's turn for confusion.  "Amazingly?"

Ian made a face. "Perhaps neither of you understand the whole British stiff upper lip," Ian suggested dryly.  "Well, I should call Marc and then get back to Betty Jo."

Patrick just grinned.  "Yeah, well she's not British.  I need to go talk to Cole and then we need to see Jenelle.  Could you uhm, have Marc arrange it?"

"Yes, of course. Although Stephen might be better at that. Either way, I'll see to it."  Ian added, after a moment, "I find it hard to believe she won't be better off without him. It wasn't a very healthy relationship."

There were some things sugar shouldn't coat.  "She never had a chance at anything else.  And she's emotionally fragile, almost unstable.  She always has been."

"Yes, you're right. I'll arrange it for you."

Patrick held his eyes.  "Sir, I know you didn't enjoy what you did.  I think you did the right thing, for what it's worth.  I'm just sorry you had to do it.  But I'm grateful in some ways it's done.  And I appreciate the help with Jenelle."

"Thank you, Patrick. I only hope Cole won't think he needs to .. well, that he'll understand and not feel he has to perpetuate a feud."

"I can pretty much promise you that won't be the case."

Ian nodded. "I hope so, Patrick. You're brother is hard to understand, but he seems like a good man, despite your father."

"Thanks."  Patrick set his glass down and turned to the room he shared with Adele.  "I'll talk to you tomorrow."  Then he was gone.

Ian phoned Marc. It was a fairly short and not very wordy conversation. Then he rejoined Betty Jo, who was lying there, her eyes, closed, her head on the pillow looking like an angel.  Ian stood there, watching her for several minutes, not wanting to disturb her, or to ruin the vision.

Finally she smiled.  "I'm awake darling.  Waiting for you to come to bed."

He walked over and stepped out of his pajama bottoms, slipping under the covers with her. "I thought you were asleep."

"Just dozing.  Waiting for you," she said as she turned, snuggling into his chest.

He rubbed her back gently and rested his chin on her head. "I love you, you know."

"I do.  And I love you."  She pressed a kiss to his chest.  "Thank you."

"Shhh.  Sleep now.  I'll watch over you."

"I know.  You sleep too."

Ian was awake until Betty Jo sleep deeply in his arms. He was awake though, unable to sleep, thinking of the one thing Marc had said, that he'd been trying to avoid thinking about, "Did you make damn sure he was dead?"  The answer, because of the security arriving on his heels, was no.

The phone ringing in the middle of the night had Cole sitting up in bed and reaching for a weapon. He didn't want to think about the nightmare the phone call had interrupted. He picked the phone up and checked the caller ID. It was his brother, who should, by rights, be busy with Adele.

"Yes," Cole said as he answered it. "What?"

"I need to talk to you.  I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Can't it wait?" Cole asked, but Patrick had already cut the connection.  Cole cursed, but got up and pulled on a pair of jeans.  Then he headed toward the liquor.  He just knew this was not something he was going to want to hear.

Patrick didn't waste time on chit chat, but then from the look on Cole's face he wouldn't have been allowed to if he'd tried.  He waited until Cole closed the door before saying anything.  "He's dead.  Avery killed him tonight.  He's going to arrange through Marc or Stephen for us to tell Jenelle."

Cole's eyes widened. It was the only physical reaction he allowed himself now. "Dead."

Patrick helped himself to some of Cole's minibar.  "As the proverbial doornail, Avery says.  He's hoping you won't hold it against him," he added with a tinge of humor.

"Dead," Cole repeated, wondering how it was he was still alive then.

Patrick refilled Cole's glass.  "It'll help."

"I, uhm..." Cole began then instead downed his liquor.  "I don't feel any different."

Patrick thought about it.  "Me either.  But that doesn't really mean anything anymore."

"No, I guess not," Cole conceded. "So, what will you do now?"

"After we tell Jenelle?  I don't know.  Go on with my life I suppose.  What about you?"

"No idea, actually. I never thought he'd be out of my life."

"You could go back to St. Michael's now," Patrick said carefully.  "I know you didn't want to leave."

Cole shook his head. "I've done too many things. Horrible things."

"They won't care, Cole," he said.  "You know that."

"I care," Cole replied, looking up and meeting Patrick's eyes.

"Jesus Cole, it wasn't you.  Don't you know that?"

Cole looked down at his hands. "It was me, the reason is immaterial. I did them."  He sucked down his drink. "Go back to your girl. Let me know when we can see Jenelle."

Patrick finished his drink and then nodded abruptly.  "Right.  I'll let you know."

"Thank you, Patrick."

Patrick closed the door behind him quietly as he left.  He'd considered calling Kessa but he figured Kai would know and if it was a good idea he'd have Nara tell Kessa Cole needed her.  But he figured the way Cole was feeling now he'd think he was contaminating Kessa somehow.

It wasn't until a long time later in the ICU in the small hospital that served Sutta that the patient woke up enough to talk.  When he was asked, Barnaby Collins said no, there was no one they should call.

That morning when Kessa went down to the dragon habitat, Nara was looking dejected. Kai looked worse.  She raised an eyebrow at them both.  "No new gossip?"

Kai's head drooped more. "We aren't going back aboard Aaru. I'll miss everyone."

"You aren't?"  Kessa looked at Nara who shook her head.  "Why not?"

"Cole says there's no reason now. He won't tell me where we're going, except maybe to Earth to see his sister," Kai replied.

"But?" Kessa prodded, having known dragons all her life.

"But he might not let me go there. He's.. not happy."

Kessa frowned.  "What happened Kai?  He was fine at dinner last night."

"I'm not supposed to say," Kai replied, dropping his chin onto the floor of the cave. "Patrick knows."

Kessa swiveled her eyes to Nara.  "Well fine," she snapped when Nara didn't answer her either.  She pulled out her phone and called Patrick.  She listened to him answer her question and then she flipped the phone shut with a snap.  "He's an idiot.  And you two aren't much better."

Kai rolled his eyes toward her. "I'm sorry."

Kessa wasn't listening.  She was thinking hard, her foot tapping absently.  Then her mind made up she went looking for Marc and Dinah.  It was early enough that she found them just finishing breakfast. "Sorry if I'm intruding."

"Good morning!" Marc said brightly. "Have breakfast yet?  Coffee? Tea?  I think we have extra, don't we darling?  If not we'll order more."

"Coffee," Kessa said and waited until Dinah poured her a cup to say more.  "Would it be prying if I asked what your plans are when the Barons' meeting finishes.  I mean after you take everyone home?"

Marc looked over at Dinah. "Oh, I don't know. Kick some ass I expect. Why?"

"Well you mentioned maybe wanting to take on some addition crew, for security."

Dinah shot him a look, an eyebrow lifted enough to make it clear she wasn't amused.  "He did, did he?  When?"

Kessa, still thinking, said, "A couple of days ago."

"Well," Marc told Dinah a bit defensively, "that was not long after you were eating dirt just outside the casino. I thought maybe..."  He let the thought lay there.  Then he turned to Kessa. "Are you applying for the job?"

She grinned.  "Absolutely.  But before we get to that, since I don't know how many slots you might want to fill..."  She looked from Marc to Dinah and then back.  "Well, I was wondering what you would think of offering Cole a job?"

"Cole?" Marc asked, almost spewing coffee.

She nodded firmly.  "You know, I'm sure, that Lord Avery killed Collins last night."

Dinah looked at Marc again.  "He did?"

Marc scowled.

"Yes.  And Cole...well Cole isn't Patrick.  His father never allowed him a life that was separate," Kessa said.  "And from what Patrick's said, I gather he doesn't know what he's going to do now, but he feels he can't go back to St. Michael's."  She considered her hands for a moment and then jettisoned her pride without further regret.  "He needs a friend and time and I was thinking that if you're taking on at least two people, you could maybe take both of us.  So he won't be alone."

Marc sat back and regarded her for a moment. "I'll be taking on, as you say, more than two if I offer you a job. There's your brother to consider."

"There's not much he can do besides rant," Kessa said frankly.  "And he enjoys that.  Besides eventually my sister-in-law will talk him around."

"Hmmm. Well, it's Laz who gets to decide. I don't know what Cole can do."

"He trained at St. Michael's, he and Kai both.  He's mage and warrior like Mal and me."

"And what makes you think he'd even take such a job?" Marc asked.

"He trusts you."

"Can't prove it by me," Marc muttered. "But I'll check with Laz and we'll let each of you know."  He paused, then asked, "So what, you're worried about him?"

"Yes," she said simply, not bothering to pretend.  "If Laz is willing, will you let me ask him?  Please?  Even if Laz isn't willing to take me too?"

Marc cocked his head as he looked at her. "I hope to hell he's worth it."

Kessa didn't flinch.  "He is."

"Anything else? Want a planet?" Marc asked.

Dinah kicked him.

"Hey!"

"Behave!"

Marc rolled his eyes at Kessa. "Men are more trouble than we're worth, generally. So if Cole is this much trouble but still worth it, then I'll definitely talk to Laz about it.  So try not to worry. Tell Kai to keep an eye on him."

"He's pretty miserable at the idea of leaving too," Kessa said as she rose to go.  "I'll tell him."

Marc nodded his understanding and watched her walk out. "That's worrying," he said to Dinah.

"Which part?" she said.

"Well, all of it really, but primarily I was worrying about Cole. God knows what his father made him do."

Dinah studied him for a long moment while she drank her coffee.  "How do you feel about having him aboard?"

"I take it that means you have a preference?" Marc countered.

"I'm picturing Malec's reaction when he finds out his baby sister is in love with Collins' son.  I'm really hoping I get to be there.  Beyond that...I asked you first."

Marc made a face and played with his cup of coffee. "He's a lot harder to get to know than Patrick. And in many ways he's the one I'd expect to be like his father. He's solitary, distrustful, inner-directed, and smart.  But, more than most, I can imagine how hard life has to be for him."

"Yes, that description could easily have been of you." Her tone was judicious.  "It will be up to Laz as you say,  but he's seen Cole spar with Kessa.  He was impressed.  And if we're going up against the pirates like we talked about, two warrior-mages could be useful."

"Granted. Especially since it seems we're going up against the Barons as well," Marc conceded. "Still, he's not someone we know well."

"No he's not.  And I would guess that if Laz says yes, Kessa will still have a hard time talking him into it.  He strikes me as the type to now embrace an eremitical existence in imitation of John the Baptist as a form of expiation."

"God, you're scary sometimes. Cole does rather remind me of the endless blatherings I heard from a certain monk I knew in the Pliocene. I'll have to tell you about him sometime. He thought I was doing that, or that I should be doing that, I was never sure which. Mostly he was terrified I was the Devil incarnate so he tended to babble."

"Can you read him?" Dinah asked abruptly.  "I'm inclined to say yes if Laz does, but as you say, we don't know him."

"Probably, but if I did he wouldn't trust me any more," Marc replied.  "If he trusts me now," he added dryly.

"Kindred guilt complexes," she said gently.

"No, not really. Most of the time I didn't feel guilty at all. I suppose, though, it's a good sign he does. But I'm thinking he might be suicidal so that complicates things."

"I can keep an eye on him if you're worried about that," she said.  "What did Ian say when he called last night, by the way.  And when were you going to tell me?"

"He said Betty was taking it pretty good. I gather Collins called him to gloat and threaten to take her again, so Ian just decided then and there to kill him. Not exactly like Ian, but well, he's in love. We should check on her today. Oh, and I guess I still need to admit to Stephen I offed Roz."

"We should and you should.  What's your opinion about the Barons?  Take aim or withdraw for now?"

"Well, since we offed two enemies, I think maybe we should back off for now. Let them think we believe it was Roz and/or Collins.  And then hit them when they aren't expecting something. How's that suit you?  Or do you want revenge now?"

"It's not revenge I'm interested in.  It's a smaller crowd around me when I'm not in your line of sight.  But I agree, we should let it go.  If the Barons are involved with pirates like we think they are, we come at them from that angle."

"Good. And you want me to put a word in for Cole. I'd thought maybe Kessa on your personal security. Give Anja a bit of a break now and again. Laz will love me for it. But not Cole.  Maybe I'll assign him to me if Laz wants him.  I can just see him and Reno becoming fast buddies."

Dinah shook her head.  "No I don't want you to put in a word for Cole.  But if Laz likes the idea, you might speak to Cole if he says no to Kessa.  He probably feels like the plague carrier.  Beyond that, Kessa on my detail is fine.  I like her and she's got a sense of humor."

"Good. Yeah, I'll talk to Cole if he tells Kessa no and we do offer him a job. Where else can he have as much fun as we have. Pirates!" Marc shouted grinning.

"Slonshal," Dinah said wearily.  "Are we singing the song too?"

Marc grinned. "And having sex while we do it."

Kessa was surprised when there was a knock on her door.  She was staying on the floor the Siolastres had more or less commandeered on Sutta and usually things were arranged otherwise than by actual physical visits. So she answered the door with perhaps more curiosity than she might otherwise have done.

When she opened it she saw Cole Collins standing there, looking a bit, well, perhaps embarrassed. At any rate, he wasn't meeting her eyes.  "I came to say goodbye. Kai told me he'd spoken to you and to Nara of our departure. I'm sorry he worried you with it."  Cole sounded less than pleased. "But I didn't tell him it was a secret so I suppose I ought to have known he'd speak of it," Cole added, apparently trying to be fair to his dragon.

"You didn't want me to know?"

He shrugged. "I'm not good at farewells."

Kessa leaned against the doorjam, her arms folded across her chest.  "No?  How hard is it?"

"All right, I haven't had much need for them. I wasn't sure... Anyway, you take care," he said and turned to go.

"Don't you bloody dare," she hissed, grabbing his arm and taking him to the floor in a fluid flipping motion over her hip.  She pinned him there, a knee tight against his sternum.  Her eyes were narrowed to slits.  "I thought we were friends."

He looked up at her, his own eyes wide. "Yeah, this is friends."

"In this position I'll know if you aren't telling me the truth," she said, unabashed.  "Why are you leaving?"

"Can I get up?  This position isn't very comfortable, not to mention public."

"Are you going to tell me the truth?  All of it?"

"All of it? What's there to tell?" Cole asked.

"I have some questions.  I want answers," she said, making no move to free him.

He regarded her for a moment and said, "I won't lie to you. I haven't."

She lifted her knee, reaching down a hand to help him up even as she rose to her feet.  "Why are you leaving?"

"No reason to stay.  I'd rather not hang out with the Syndicate, since I suddenly have a choice in my allies," he replied.

"Who would you rather hang out with?"

He waited until they'd gotten into her room and she'd shut the door before he answered. "I think it's more the other way round. I'm not exactly welcome most places," he finally replied.

"I doubt that, but I'll let it go for now," she said.  "What do you want to do Cole?  Not what you think you might be able to manage if no one knows who you are."

He colored confirming that had pretty much been his plan, to just pass as someone normal.  "Not sure," he finally replied. "It's.. I never thought I'd be free of him. Haven't wasted much time on thinking of alternative plans."

She reached for the house phone and called down for food and coffee.  When she hung up she said, "Have a seat.  Give it a think.  I can wait."

He looked like he considered zapping out but then shrugged and took a seat. "What .. why.. You think this is part of being a friend?"

She sat on the arm of the sofa.  "I think that right now it's what it takes to be your friend.  You're so used to keeping your distance to protect those you care about, and you've trained yourself to not care to protect those you might care about and to protect yourself that it's the only way I know of to make you sit still long enough to get you to see you have alternatives you don't know you have."

"It's simpler than that, Kessa. I haven't had friends. Safer that way."

"Now you do and not just me," she said.

He sat back and asked, "Who?"

"The Siolastres, Ian and Betty Jo, Adele...the dragons, Laz and Anja like you.  And none of them hold your father against you."

"They don't know me. The only reason I'm here is because they wanted my father dead. He's dead. I'm of no use to them now," Cole explained patiently.

"Poppycock!"

"They have no reason to trust me. I wouldn't trust me. I can't ask them to.  Besides, I need to go and figure out what to do next."

"You've earned their trust, Cole.  You just don't want to believe it."  She sighed.  "Marc and Dinah are taking on more crew because the barons are trying to kill Dinah.  Laz thinks you'd be a good fit."

Cole stared at her for a long time. "What?"he finally asked.

"It's Laz's decision, though obviously Marc and Dinah could have vetoed it.  But they didn't.  They agree with him.  The job is yours if you want it.  They're going after the pirates, partly because they believe the barons and the syndicate control them.

"It's a chance to do what you trained to do, what you love.  It's a chance to be the warrior mage you want to be.  All you have to do is trust enough to say yes."

"I'm not sure what I love, Kessa. I've never... Why don't they hire you?"

"They have."

"Good. Are you happy about it?"

She grinned.  "Yes.  So are you going to come along and have some fun for a change?"

"How can they trust me, Kessa,?" he asked. "They'd be crazy to do so."

"Go ask them," she said.

"Yeah, why are you asking me in the first place?" Cole asked suspiciously.

She looked at him for a long moment.  "That's one you'll need to figure out for yourself.  Now go ask them before I put you on the floor again."

"They're expecting me to talk to them?" he asked.

"I asked them to let me tell you they were interested.  But it's up to you to give them an answer.  When you get back, the food will be here and we can have lunch together."

"Either way?" he asked as he got up to leave.

He stood in front of the door to Marc and Dinah's suite for some time.  He wasn't sure if he should actually knock or not.   The door opened before he'd made up his mind. Anja smiled at him.

"Marc and Dinah are expecting you. Come in."

Cole didn't reply just followed Anja into the sitting room.

Marc was deep in papers and bitching about it. Dinah stood by a window.  She looked at Cole yas he entered.  "Anja, where's Laz?"

"I'll get him. He's swilling coffee," Anja said and sauntered off toward her and Laz's room.

Marc looked up. "Merde. I hate paperwork. Have a seat, Cole."

"I prefer to stand," Cole replied.

Dinah bent to kiss Marc.  "Mano y mano time.  Anja and I are going shopping."

"Coward," Marc grumbled, watching as she flounced off. "Women," he muttered. "Laz!" he yelled.

Laz grinned as he came in.  "Anja says it's lingerie shopping.  I gave her my black American Express card."

"Hmmm," Marc replied, re-evaluating his decision to be irritated. "So, tell Cole about the job we want to offer him."

"One of the crew, like everyone else.  A share in the profits after expenses.  Is there more to it?" Laz said, puzzled.  "He gets a special mage commission?  Samhain and Beltane off?  What?"  Then he grinned.  "Oh right, I forgot.  Reno's pools, singing the song and watching Dinah slug Marc.  Part of the fringe.  Can't beat it anywhere."

Cole looked from one to the other of them.

Marc sighed. "Yeah, I get no respect. They all talk to me like that. Seriously. So, you want a job? You'd be like everyone else, expected to fill in when needed, with, generally speaking, enough time off to stay sane. Your private arrangements are your own, we don't much care so long as it doesn't get in the way of the job."  Marc paused and gave Cole a long look.  "We've all got crap in our past we don't much care for. It's what you do on Aaru and from now on that matters.  As for your father, he was rubbish, but at least he raised some pretty impressive sons."

Cole colored, looking down at his feet.

Laz handed Marc a scotch and then passed one to Cole.  "Sit.  Please.  You're making me nervous."

Cole finally took a seat. Once Cole was comfortable and had a sip of his scotch Marc commented, "Look. it isn't a hand out. I'm worried about Dinah's safety. And, we are rather nuts and keep taking on the universe. She's like that, has this thing about righting wrongs and fixing things that ain't broke, just slightly twisted.  We thought we'd go play with the pirates. It's gonna be dangerous, but hell, it ought to be fun. And, if you come up with something better to do, you can always quit."

When he didn't speak Laz sighed.  "Look man, he took me on and I tried to kill him over Dinah once.  This gives you time, with something worth doing until you can figure out what to do next.  And if it turns out you're right and we're wrong about you, either Marc or I will kill you.  So you really can't lose."

Cole almost choked on his scotch at that last.

"Yeah, what he said," Marc added.  "What other plans have you got?"

Cole stared at his scotch for a bit. "None really."

"There ya go. Come join the rest of us misfits. For awhile anyway, until you have a plan."

"Can I think about it?" Cole asked.

"Sure. But we leave tomorrow, so make your mind up by then," Marc replied.

"But given the lingerie, probably not before noon," Laz said complacently.

Cole made his way somewhat reluctantly back to Kessa's. He knocked.

She opened the door and waved him in, munching on a pickle.  "There's roast beef, ham and salami along with every condiment known to man or dragon.  Take your pick."

"Thanks. They're really like that? I saw it on Aaru but thought.. Thought maybe it was for show or something. Is it?"

"No, it's not."  She handed him a beer.  "It's pretty amazing, isn't it?"

"I don't much like being a rescue," Cole said as he sipped his beer. "I'm fine. I don't need a hand out, or a favor."

"That's not what it is, you know.  If you couldn't cut it you'd never have been asked.  If they wanted to rescue you they'd be doing something else.  Hell, you could get killed, Cole."

"So could you, and that would be a waste," he replied.

"Then you'll just have to keep me alive, won't you?" she said.

Cole looked up from making a sandwich. "Yeah, I guess."

It had taken some patience on Dinah's part but they'd finally left Earth and all the company behind and were headed back to the Rim without her killing anyone.  All the people and all the socializing and all of everything, if she was honest with herself, was making her edgy, antsy even.  It felt like a level current of static electricity had taken up residence under her skin and she couldn't get it to dissipate.  She rubbed her hands along her forearms and sighed, staring out the observation deck window.  Whatever her problem was it was making her crazy.  God!  If she were a racehorse she'd say she needed to run.

She didn't live alone in her head.  The bond she shared with Marc, even when she pulled back as far outside of it as she could, precluded that.  He always had some sense of her state of mind, her emotions, what she was feeling, no matter how hard she tried to protect him, just as she was always aware of him, his well being and where he was.  She'd never minded it before now.  She liked it, liked the intimacy of it, the closeness that was always there, a soothing, warming presence she could always wrap around herself.  Now it added to her disquiet, making her wonder when Marc was going to start asking questions she didn't have an answer to.

She loved her life, adored it even.  She couldn't think of one thing she'd change...not even Marc's protectiveness.  So what was her problem?  Hell, if she didn't know better, she'd be shuffling her feet across the carpet and then touching people, just to zing them with the electricity running through her.  Maybe she needed a lightening rod, or a ground wire or something.

Maybe she needed a stiff drink and round the clock, mind melting, scream inducing sex.  Maybe she just needed to ask the question.  Because the only other feeling she could relate this to was the anxiety she remembered as a child, living with her mother, waiting for the next bad thing to happen.  The one she knew was coming because there was always one on its way.

One moment Marc hadn't been there, the next he was. He stood just inside the extreme edges of the observation deck. He didn't approach, just stood there, waiting. He didn't do a mental check either. He stayed out of her head as if he sensed her inner division, her need for intimacy and her suddenly revived need for privacy.

He crossed his arms on his chest and leaned against the wall.

She didn't turn.  "Hostility or defensiveness?"

"Mine or yours?" he countered.

She turned, smiling.  "Yours.  The arms across the chest."

"Definitely not hostility. I confess to fear."

She blinked.  Then she bypassed the automatic protest, the reassurances that wanted to spill without thought from her mouth.  All true and none of them appropriate to this moment or this conversation.  "I feel like, if someone wanted to, they could plug me in and power the energizer bunny on his Easter rounds."

Marc regarded her in silence for a moment then offered, "And that is different from the normal Dinah how exactly?"

"Because it feels like somehow an electrical current is running just under my skin.  And that's not the normal Dinah.  At least I'd don't think it is.  I wouldn't have said I was edgy or antsy or a particularly restless person."  She left the implied question unspoken.

"But you are, naturally, a woman of action, preferring it to the alternative of pensive, calm and detailed planning."  He paused a moment, and then asked, "Can I help you?"

She took a step closer then halted feeling almost helpless and said, letting the words past her internal censor, the one between her and the world, and she realized as she heard them, her and her subconscious.  "Why do you indulge me?"

"Do I?" he asked.

She nodded.  "Left to your own devices you'd never have blown up Sutta.  Nor would you be babysitting a colony world of reformed pirates."  She paused.  "Not that you're not a nice man," she added.

"I'm not a nice man," he replied flatly. "Left to my own devices I would be a Collins."

She wasn't going there.  "So why do you indulge me?  Why, when it makes you crazy, do you abet me in my plots to save the universe even when it puts me at risk?"

"Because I love you. Because we all, we each of us, need a reason to live. Yours appears to be saving the Universe. I confess to having shared that dream once. Currently I have no dream of my own so why not help you with yours?"

"So we're heading off to rid the shipping lanes of pirates just cause I want to?"

"Well, and because it is doable and something deemed worthy by better men and women than I. So why not?"

She turned back to the observation window.  Aaru was getting ready for the first jump to hyperspace.  "When you're four years old, anxious isn't a word you know."

"And you are now anxious, much as you remember being back then," he replied. "About me?"

"I don't know.  Unlike Tabitha I'm not given to visions of the future."  She turned around again.  "Every day, I felt this way, knowing something bad was going to happen and it always did.  Which, looking back, makes perfect sense, of course.  What I don't know is why I'm feeling that way now."

His mind reached out for hers then, caressing it. "The one metafaculty that has never blossomed in my mind is prolexis, the art of farseeing, sensing the future."

Marc was silent some time then added,  "I spent eons attempting to shape a future for mankind; all that work and meticulous planning, as you know, crashed and burned along with my banged up body.  Don't you dare tell Tabitha, but I don't particularly miss carrying the weight of the universe on my impressive shoulders. If you are now feeling a similar weight, perhaps we should re-evaluate your - our- goals."

"See that's just it," she said, pouncing.  "Are they really our goals?"

"As in you are not sure I am fully on board with them, or as in, you are now unsure if you want to save the Universe from a fate worse than... whatever."

"As in..." she started and then stopped, not knowing how to explain it.  "Oh hell.  Jolie and I knew this girl in high school.  When she dated a guy who liked baseball she liked baseball.  If she wanted a guy who was into bowling, she learned to bowl, lived it, slept it and ate it for all I know.  Whoever the guy was, his interests became hers, his hobbies, his plans, his whatever.  And eventually, no matter how hard she tried she ended up alone and angry, but she never knew why."

She waved her hand in a negating motion.  "I'm not saying that's even a possibility here.  But I am saying my goals aren't like most people's.  No split level in the suburbs, or joining the junior league to satisfy my altruistic impulses.  I pick goals to do that put me, you and everyone along with us in the line of fire.  My goals.  That set up situations that make you crazy because I might get hurt."

"Ah," he said as he walked over to stand behind her. He turned her around and cupped her face with his two hands.  He met her eyes.

"The people who follow you do it by choice. Yes, someone may die. The risk is real. But they choose. The hurt, if someone dies for you is ... " he closed his eyes, " or it can be.. devastating. But the only way to achieve something wonderful is to risk. I love you enough that I want to give you the right to risk it all. To risk me, and to risk yourself. Otherwise... I don't want a split-level in the suburbs either."

He was silent a time then added, "You and I, together, are something unique. Until we figure it out, understand what is best to do with it, there's not a damn thing wrong with fighting pirates."

She leaned into him, letting his warmth, his scent, wrap around her.  He made her feel protected and safe.  If she wanted to backpack through hell on a sight seeing tour, he'd be there with her. She could have the goals she had because he stood at her side.

Marc kissed the top of her head. "So, I'll make you a deal. I'll continue to indulge your shorter term goals while I ponder the longer view. Then, when and if I see a way for us to impact this universe of ours, or someone else's universe for that matter, using our unique gifts, we'll consider a change of viewpoint and an alteration in our outlook. But no matter what it is, it will have to be the both of us deciding the risk is worth the reward. For not just us, but for anyone who follows us into it."

She snuggled closer.  "You know we're the hottest berth going on the Rim.  Everybody and their brother wants a spot on the crew, according to what McGee's hearing."

Marc laughed. "All those Tanu and Firvulag genes. We're all really barbarians at heart, civilization only a millimeter thick with respect to our psyches. So let's go indulge ourselves."

"Just so long as we don't sing the song."

"Slonshal!"