Collins folded the plans and stuck them in his pocket and was heading for the door when the explosions came.  What ever he'd planned to do about Ian was now moot.  His only thought, his only goal as he immediately zapped out for the garage was to get the hell out of Dodge as fast as he could.  The keys were all in the cars and he chose the Ferrari, matte black and powerful.  The garage doors were still opening as he sped away, taking the curve out of the compound on two and a half wheels, then he used a controlled downshift and Morse code on the brake managing the fishtail as he hit the main road down the mountain.

It was a winding two lane road that fortunately saw little traffic.  Unfortunately that meant the road wasn't paved but oil and gravel and it wasn't plowed.  It was slick and snow rutted and the Ferrari was fast and set low to the ground so she'd corner like the race car she was.

Leroy saw the Ferrari speed away and was about to give vent to his frustration when a thought came and brought a wicked grin in its wake.  He pictured it and there it was...the sweetest, baddest, sexiest looking Lamborghini he'd ever imagined and lusted after.  It gave him a hard on just looking at it.  He laughed and then he was behind the wheel and racing after Collins.

Collins saw him in the rear view mirror and felt the adrenalin surge and his lips peel back over his teeth like a blanched tomato skin in a grin of pure savage delight. He accelerated out of the next curve and was focusing completely on the game he was now engaged in; on winning the prize of outwitting his pursuer.  It was what he lived for.  He drove with skill, having raced down this mountain in all kinds of weather for years, loving the danger, reveling in pushing the risks he took as far and as high as he could, feeling the shards of terror mingling with his will to win and stoking it with adrenalin, creating a high better than sex, lasting longer than an orgasm and so long as he didn't kill himself, leaving all his brain cells intact.

He let off on the clutch and tweaked the rack and pinion steering just a tad to the left, feeling the tires bite into the road, spitting snow and dirt as he used the controlled skid he'd engineered to round the next curve, then straighted a bit and fed the engine some gas.  He was visualizing the curve ahead of him as he went into the straight, planning how he'd take, how he'd hug the outside of the curve as it began and then cut back inside, shortening the angle and giving him a head start on the next straight away after it.  He stabilized his speed, playing the gas and the brake and the clutch like a one man band and was moving perfectly on the outside edge of the road, the edge that was all that was between him and the drop off to the St. Lawrence gorge below when the back driver's side tire hit the ice and lost traction, sending him into a shimmy.

He corrected, and then over corrected, hoping the skid would pull the rear end back towards the mountain, as he felt the other rear tire let go of the road and then his back end was out over the edge and taking his front tires with it.  Collins knew he was going over the edge and then a rush of adrenalin hit that was like nothing he'd ever felt before, like a million orgasms happening at once, like fireworks exploding along his nerves and he rode it, reveling in it, loving it, wanting it to last forever as he also rode the car into free fall.

Leroy wasn't far behind. He'd had training in high-speed pursuit. Being a guy, this was something that pumped him up and woke him up like not much else. Even so, it was icy and the roads were dangerous and he was driving a car that was a helluva lot harder to finesse than your standard police issue sedan. It was not forgiving. It expected the driver to know what the hell he was doing, and it expected him to have the smarts to manage any road hazards.

The Ferrari was hot, no doubt about it, and Collins seemed to be totally into risking his neck. Leroy, on the other hand, wasn't nearly as eager to crash and burn. His survival instinct was in full throated roar, and Cassidy would have been proud of Leroy's alter egos who were screaming at him to watch the downshift and touch those brakes not tromp on them, idiot!  Leroy listened, as he knew full well his instincts were well trained. That was how, when Collins' Ferrari hit the skid, Leroy managed, barely, to dodge the skidding car.  He got a glimpse of Collins' wide eyed grin - definitely not the look of a sane man - whose car was about to go over a cliff into nothingness, and barely, ever so barely, avoid following the mage and the Ferrari right off the cliff edge and down into the icy waters below.

Leroy didn't have a lot of options. So instead of a plunge after Collins, he chose to aim the Lammi at a snowy mound of something he fervently hoped was softer than cliff face.  He stood on the brakes, slammed the wheel to the right as fast as he could turn it, which fishtailed the car around slamming the driver's side into the snowy mound. That was the last thing Leroy knew.

Hermione turned the page and pushed her hair back from her face.  Then she refocused on the text she was studying, a medieval account of experiments in using sex magic.  She'd have said, a week ago, it would be titillating, reading it, but by now, whatever it had been when she'd started her titillation factor was burnt out and and the mage was still going on about various positions and how they effected the outcome, the randy little bugger.  She sighed and looked at the clock.  It was getting late, she'd been reading for over an hour and Ian was still, presumably, in the drawing room, and they still hadn't heard from Leroy.  She turned towards Lis, a question on her lips and froze.

She knew enough to recognize a trance state.  She also knew enough to recognize when someone in a trance state was in so deep they were in trouble and needed help getting out.  What she didn't know enough about was how to get him out.  She was out of her chair and knocking on the drawing room door, opening it before she heard a response and saying Lis needs you to Ian before she'd had time to think.

Ian zapped himself to the study and was kneeling in front of Lis before Hermione drew another breath. She could sense Ian's powers rising, even if she wasn't sure what he was doing. A tendril of power reached out from Ian to Lis and then she sensed Lis coming out of it. "It's Leroy. He's ... He might be dead."

"Where is he?  Do you know?" Betty Jo asked, the cop in her taking over.

Lis nodded. "Car crash."  They all magicked themselves some cold weather gear, Ian handling it for Betty Jo, and zapped to the spot. The car in front of them was sandwiched under an outcropping of rock, the motor hissing and  pinging as it cooled.  A team from the Refuge showed up within a second.

Gideon, back on duty for the first time since Somalia, along with the rest of his team had gotten the SOS from Ian relayed by Stephen.  He motioned for Jackson to check Leroy, partially visible through the passenger side window.  The crash had wedged the car under the outcropping, partly collapsing the roof downward and breaking out all the windows.  The car was the only thing holding up an avalanche of snow and rock.

The airbags, front and side had deployed.  But that hadn't protected Leroy from the roof as it was crushed inward. He was collapsed face down over the steering wheel, pillowed on the deflating airbag and shoved sideways but the side airbag and the force of the car hitting the mountain.  Jackson got as close as he could, trying to reach him  through the broken window and only succeeded in dislodging snow and cutting himself on all the glass.  There was no way to open the door to get closer.

Gideon had taken in the siting of the car, the precariousness of the snow and rock above and the amount of blood he could see, extrapolated an estimate of the amount he couldn't and concluded they'd have to risk it.   They had to get Leroy out of the car to help him.  He looked at Ian and the others.  "I need you to make sure that roof stays where it is, supporting the outcropping and the snow above it; no matter what else happens, I need it to stay there."

Ian and Lis both nodded and concentrated on doing just that, but spared a worried eye each on Gideon and his team. Hermione added her powers into the mix. Betty Jo, unable to help with that, stood aside.  Then she did what cops do, she went looking for clues, following the new skid marks over to the edge and climbed past the broken out guard rail and slithered a bit down the side, moving as carefully as she'd ever done anything in her life to the ledge below that blocked her view over the edge of the mountain.  Below her, far below, she could see the wreckage and the path the car had torn through the side of the mountain after it hit. There was no way anyone could have lived through that crash.  On the other hand she wanted very badly to make sure.

Gideon saw that the mage's had the roof secure and then reached for power, pulling it in in a stream, manipulating it like taffy until he had thin stream of pure concentrated energy thinned to a razor sharp edge.  Then, holding it in his hands like a acetylene torch he began cutting the door out of the Lamborghini while Jackson monitored Leroy and Carson placed a sheet of ice between Leroy and the extreme heat being generated as Gideon worked.  In minutes Gideon had the door cut out.  Carson cooled the gaping hole and Jackson was in and zapping Leroy away, back to the Refuge.

"Okay, get back and let it go," Gideon said, moving away himself.  And as the mages removed their support the snow and rock began to slide, burying the car and cutting the road into two sections.

Ian, freed now from the necessary concentration of keeping the mountain from crushing what was left of Leroy, looked around for Betty Jo. He caught a glimpse of her and walked over to where she was leaning precariously over the edge trying to get a look at the wreckage below.  "Come on," he said. "Nothing we can do for Leroy now. That's up to the healers. Let's take a look."

She climbed back up off the ledge and let him help her over the guard rail.  "Are we zapping down," she asked with a grin.

"A lot easier, not to mention safer, than climbing down." He zapped them to within a foot or two of the car. "Just be careful," he cautioned as she moved toward it. "It might not be stable."

She nodded, moving gingerly towards what was left of the Ferrari.  The car was balanced, uncertainly and acting like it was going to change its mind and find another seat, on a combination of trees and rock, sitting it's side with the wheels towards the mountain.  She was close enough to touch it when it shifted a fraction and slid away from her.  She waited while it settled again and moved next to it, looking down into the car through the driver's side window.  "It's empty," she called to Ian.  "No body, no blood, no nothing."

Ian didn't look surprised. "He zapped out at the last moment then. Too bad. I expect Leroy is still too new at this stuff to have zapped himself out of danger at the last moment. I hope he'll.. I feel horrid."

She nodded.  "Wanna go check?  Hermione's never been to the Refuge, it'd be educational for  her.  And I bet they've got coffee ready."

"Yeah, Let's go see how he's doing," Ian agreed. They zapped back up to the site, picked up Lis and Hermione and headed to the Refuge.

Doni saw them zap in to the Infirmary and smiled a greeting.  "Jackson's still working on him.  It'll be a while, there's some internal bleeding and a concussion, not to mention the bruises and cuts, but he'll be fine."

"Oh I'm relieved to hear that," Ian whispered fervently.

Betty Jo squeezed his arm and then did the introductions.  Hermione managed a distracted hello as she looked around.  Two healers were aglow, working on another case and Kalket was using skin on a thigh that had been gashed open to the bone.  That was in addition to usual work that went on in the infirmary, so the air was thick with energy.

"It is a bit eye opening at times," Doni said, watching Hermione.  "Fortunately things are calm right now.  I've got to get back to what I was doing, but if you'd like you all are welcome to come up the house later for dinner, if you'll be around.  Leroy will probably be ready for visitors later this evening."

"That's most kind of you," Lis answered for them all. Then to Hermione, "They've got dragons."

Doni laughed.  "Morrigan, the resident dragon wrangler and expert, is over there," she said pointing.  "If you ask nice she'll arrange a meeting and ride if you want one."

Morrigan, hearing her name, came their way. "Hi Morrigan, this is Hermione, you know, the gal with the mouth hanging open at the word dragon. Think she could meet one?"

Ian, who'd been in a sort of deep funk since their arrival woke himself up enough to say, "Yes, Hermione. Do go meet one. Just don't try to bring one home."

Hermione just nodded and followed Morrigan.

Doni cast a professional eye over Ian.  "Stephen and his scotch are both in his office.  Marc and the communal bottle are up at the house riding herd on Dinah."

"Oh, thanks," Ian replied turning to head toward the nearer scotch to thee.

Tommy wasn't at his desk so they just knocked and went in.  Stephen responded with an absent yes, thinking it was Tommy back from his errand to Cal.  "Tommy," he said, not looking up from what he was reading, "remind me to call Jolie when Cassidy gets back about how we've set up the..." and broke off as he realized it wasn't his minion he was talking to.  "Well," he said.  "This is a surprise.  How'd everything work out?"

"Not very well. Including nearly getting Leroy killed, not to mention Betty Jo."

Stephen opened his mouth and then stopped himself.  He reached into his bottom drawer and pulled out the bottle, conjuring glasses and filling them.  He passed the first one to Ian.   "Leroy, I'm told, will be fine," he offered.  "And Betty Jo is manifestly alive and blooming with health.   Almost, like nearly and close, usually only matters in horseshoes and games like curling and boules."

"Hmmm," Ian replied. Lis, who'd taken a seat behind them a bit, commented, "Leroy's a big boy. Yeah, maybe a bit of a kid. But he was a cop and put his life on the line every day. He'd be the last to complain."

"Maybe so," Ian replied. "But I took more risk than was necessary."

"Isn't it cogent that you got us of trouble alive?  Seems to me," Betty Jo went on, "that that's the bit that matters.  We all knew it was risky."

"Good point," Stephen said, passing Ian the bottle.

"Yes, it is cogent, but not very reassuring," Ian replied. "Somehow, Stephen, I doubt you're quite as sanguine when your people get hurt. And they are your people. These aren't even mine."

"No, I'm not. I was literally ready to quit after Grand Isle. It's like walking through hell every time, and you never reach the end of the rehashing and the what ifs.  But if you stay there you're paralyzed and the job never gets done.  Every time," Stephen said, emphasizing his words, "Every time there's things that could have been done better, things that could have been considered that weren't.  Every time I can look back and see ways that would have prevented someone from getting hurt or killed.  Making sure I've learned those things for the next time is the only thing that makes it bearable sometimes."

Ian nodded, still looking glum though. "I know," he said.

"And the only way I can let myself off the hook, like I have to do to do my job, is to learn again that only God is omniscient and always right, the rest of us have to get by on lesser gifts.  Sometimes it just sucks and I just have to live with it.  So I keep a bottle of scotch in the bottom drawer and a woman, with no blind eye to my faults but who still loves me, close at hand and a friend who'll tell me the truth almost as close."

Ian frowned down into his drink. "So we've been invited for dinner. I hope your new cook won't have a cow."

Stephen laughed.  "He's still competing with Tabitha so he'll rise to the occasion.  You can also tour the snuggery that we're blaming on you."

"Next thing you know, you colonists will be clamoring to become a part of the Empire once again," Ian commented with a grin. Lis, behind them, snorted.

"There's still an Empire to join?" Stephen asked.

"Oh look," Lis was looking over at the window. "There goes Hermione." Hermione was hanging on to Puff for dear life.

"Good for her," Betty Jo said.  "She's way too serious about life."

"Well, if anyone will get her over that, Puff will,"  Lis laughed.  Puff flew back by upside down, Hermione's eyes were wide and a bit terrified.

"Maybe you should indulge in a dragon ride Ian," Stephen said, watching as Hermione went from terrified to startled to enjoying the hell out of the ride while Puff started dive bombing practice with the other dragons.

Ian smiled watching her. "She was a shy little thing when I first met her. Actually she's come a pretty long way out of her shell. And seems to even be getting over her fear of me."

"Golly," Betty Jo said, "Maybe I should warn her then not to go too far with that."

Ian eyed her, while Lis chuckled. "Don't worry. She has a healthy respect for Betty Jo too."

"Me?  Why in the world would she?" Betty Jo said, incredulous.

"I'd have thought it would be obvious, Betty Jo," Lis commented with a laugh.

"Yes, well," Ian commented. "Let's head over to the Commune."

"Well it's not obvious to me," she said, not moving and seriously concerned.  "Did I do something to upset her or scare her?"

Lis grinned. "It's a girl thing. You better talk to her." He stood up. "Thanks for the drink, Stephen. I'm gonna go check on Leroy. Where's Robyna by the way. Maybe someone oughta let her know about Leroy before she hears accidentally."

"She's working.  I'll talk to her when she gets back," Stephen said.  "Unless you want to Ian?"

"If I'm here I'd be glad to. She's on St Michael's?"

"Yes, she's still keeping an eye on Dr. Friday."

"Good thing, then," Ian replied. Then, looking over at Betty Jo, he said,  "Shall we go and check one last time on Leroy and then head over see Dinah and Marc?  Hermione can find her own way there, I'm sure."

"Sure," she said.  "See you at dinner, Stephen."

"Yep," he said.

Leroy was doing fine and they were more or less all tossed out of the infirmary so headed on over to the Commune. Dinah grinned at Betty Jo. So did Marc.

"You're looking particularly fetching," Marc commented. "Something's been charging your batteries.  Can't imagine what."

She laughed and hugged Dinah.  "Leisure agrees with you," she said.

Dinah stuck her tongue out at her.  "Traitor."

Marc laughed. "She's getting spoiled in other ways too. Not that I mind. How's Leroy?"

"He'll be fine, thankfully," Ian replied. "Although until I can talk to him. ..."

"Yeah, I totally understand," Marc replied, his look sympathetic. "Although I swear I heard you were a hard-hearted bastard like me."

Dinah looked at Betty Jo and rolled her eyes.  Betty Jo grinned in agreement.  "Oh yeah."

"Oh shut up," Marc growled, getting himself, Ian and Betty Jo a drink.  To torture Dinah he ran his glass under her nose. "See what happens when you're a smart ass?"

"But I didn't say a word," she protested indignantly.  "Can I help it if we're not fooled by you two?  Either we're too smart for you or you're lousy actors."

"I vote for the first," Betty Jo said.  "Don't want to damage their egos."

Ian rolled his eyes. "So what exactly did you guys have to do with the psi gizmo?" Ian asked. "I understand Leroy brought its existence and my involvement with it to your attention and then you involved Rimes and, uhm, Betty Jo."

Marc frowned. "Well, mostly we get worried when there's something that might hurt our people. Beyond that don't know much. Maybe Stephen knows more. We'll have to check with him when he gets here."

Dinah wrinkled her nose.  "How did telling Rimes get you involved?" she asked Betty Jo.

"I work for him now," she said, a delicate flush staining her cheeks.  "So do Bobbie and Billie."

"Oh, that's right, I remember...Marc mentioned you'd changed jobs."

"An opportunity too good to refuse," Ian added.

Betty Jo shot him a look and nodded.  "It was, actually.  And it means I won't be going under for months at a time anymore."

"It is an excellent opportunity," Ian agreed. "And she's working with her sisters."

"There, you see? Everyone agrees, Betty Jo. Don't look so defensive," Marc said with a grin.

She just eyed Ian again.  "Okay, I won't," she said after a minute, a smile appearing.  "Besides, Rimes figures the three of us testifying en mass on the Hill will net another half a billion for the budget."

Marc let out a guffaw. "Oh, yeah. I need to make sure Rimes never meets Irisa."

Betty Jo laughed.  "I heard a rumor she finally married him."

"Yeah," Dinah said.  "They eloped New Years Day.  They're honeymooning in Greece.  Reno's running a pool on whether she keeps her maiden name or takes his...he's got some nice odds."

Marc frowned. "Damn the man. She's the best PR and diplomatic assistant I ever had."

"It's not like she still isn't," Dinah pointed out.  "All she's done is add a ring or two to her finger and maybe change her last name and address.  You're just grouchy because she didn't ask you if she could first and Cassidy set it up with Stephen and not you."

"Yeah, well, maybe," Marc finally admitted making everyone laugh.

"Look who I found on the doorstep," Stephen  said, coming in with Hermione.  Want a drink?" he asked her after he introduced her to Dinah and Marc.

She smiled shyly and nodded.  "Yes, thank you.  A coke if I could."

Stephen grinned.  "Coming right up."  He handed Hermione her drink and settled with his.  "I talked to Doni before I left.  You can see Leroy after dinner she says.  They expect him to wake up around eight or nine or so.  Jackson finished up and there were no problems.  He's just going to be very sore for a while and they want him to stay in bed for a few days."

"Good luck with that," Marc said with a grin. "They'd better chain him down."  Then he regarded Hermione. "So, did you enjoy your dragon rides? Sorry about Puff. He's a bit of a ham."

"Oh no, it was fabulous," she said.  "I had a great time.  He said I could come visit him whenever I wanted.  He said he mostly lives on Nimue's roof in England so it's not too far."

Dinah and Betty Jo cracked up.  "I'm sorry Hermione," Dinah said.  It's just Puff got all jealous when Julian and Nimue got engaged about having to share Julian with her and now Julian can't hardly tear Puff away from her when she's around.  He says Nims plays better than Julian does."

"Dinner," a voice with a sort-of French accent announced from the doorway, "eez served."

"Ah, Pierre, thank you," Dinah said, as Marc helped her up....six months worth of twins having made her a bit less agile.

Stephen led the way and held the chair for Hermione.  "Where's Christopher and Drianna?  And Tabitha and Eli?" Stephen asked, suddenly realizing what was missing.

"Tabitha and Pierre had a difference of opinion over children in the kitchen when he's cooking," Dinah said.  "Seems Christopher quite taken with Pierre, seeing as how he'd never met a ghost before.  Christopher can't find his mind and it's making him crazy.  So he's been following Pierre around constantly, trying to figure out where it is."

"Ah, poor Christopher is doomed to disappointment. The child thinks the world makes sense," Marc commented with a grin.

"So we're to be spared the little... angel this evening?" Ian asked.

"Yep, Tabitha and Eli took them out to eat at McDonalds in town.  A sure sign, I would point out for the edification of the interested, that Tabitha is _not pleased_." Dinah swallowed some water and went on.  "I'd also suggest that the interested might consider doing a cost benefit analysis of a chef versus trustworthy, preferred, and dedicated child care over the long haul."

"They'll learn to get on," Marc replied, entirely unimpressed. "Tabitha wouldn't leave these kids for any price. She's just got to realize she's not the only person here who needs to be happy."

"You think that's what it is?" Dinah asked thoughtfully, glancing at Stephen who was saying nothing.  "You don't think it might have something to do with the fact that you took away part of what she saw as her contribution to this household without so much as a by your leave?  That in effect she was told that what she offered and saw as valuable to us, wasn't, in fact, worth anything at all, and certainly not as much as the whim that led to its replacement."

"Ouch," Betty Jo said.

"True and not the time or place," Dinah said.  "I apologize.  So how's Hoolihan's getting by without you Lis?"

Marc gave Dinah one of those looks that said he'd speak to her later on the issue. Lis meanwhile replied, "Well, Zak is filling in for me, now that things with the Princes have settled down some. He likes a chance to say hey to everyone.  So I'm quite sure things at Hoolihan's are just fine."

"Zak?" Dinah said.

"He's a Djinn.  Like Genie? Only not one limited to three wishes. You seriously don't want to get him pissed at you."

Dinah laughed.  "Sounds like it."

"So what are you going to do next about the plans, Ian?" Stephen asked.

"I suppose I'll defer to Blackheath. I'd be willing to assist them in tracing Collins, but..."

"Yeah, but," Marc agreed. "Don't like that they wanted them to begin with."

"Well I'm not entirely sure I'm happy with the thought that Collins has them," Stephen said.  "Still Abner has a spare set so it's not like only the bad guys have it."

"True," Ian agreed. "The R&C will have to do something about him. Not only because of the psi gizmo. He's our definition of a rogue."

"Though," Stephen went on as if he hadn't spoken, "I suppose it's time to tell you that the plans Aedan stole were incomplete."

"Oh?" Ian breathed sitting up a bit straighter. "Does Blackheath know that?  Does the Zoo?  And, if you don't mind telling me, and it's not beyond my pay grade, how is it you know that?"

"No they don't know, either of them," Stephen said, pushing his plate away, half eaten.  "And they shouldn't," he emphasized, glancing at Betty Jo.  "Abner, after the first attempt, decided that the safest thing to do was split the plans apart, into the components and the main mechanism.  I know because he told Robyna and Robyna told Leroy and so it goes.  I gather he and Robyna have become good friends...almost like father daughter or uncle and niece.  She makes him laugh."

"So, Leroy almost died for nothing," Ian said heavily, obviously not happy to hear that at all.

"No, he didn't," Stephen said.  "What Collins has is enough to give him the solution to the main component if he's smart enough or finds someone who is.  It would be better if he didn't have them at all.  And Leroy knew Collins didn't have the full set."

"Idiot," Ian muttered.

"You can tell him that to his face," Doni said, walking in from work.  "He's awake."

"I will," Ian retorted. "Will he be all right?"

"He'll be fine," she said, taking a seat.  "He's shaping up to be as hard to kill as you and Marc are."

"Good for him," Marc said easily. "He's a good kid. Needs a better job. I should snatch him up before someone else does."

"Oh?" Stephen said.  "I thought we were gently steering him elsewhere."

"Well, since they don't seem to have a clue..."  Marc frowned at Betty Jo.

"Oh I think they do," she said placidly and smiled at him.  "As the Ent said, don't be hasty."

"Ah, well, they'd better learn to get hastier," Marc replied.  Then he added, "Go on. You aren't eating anyway. Go see Leroy, to reassure yourself he's all right. I seriously doubt he's going to hold it against you, you know. He's the sort who acts on his own internal needs and morals."

Ian nodded. "I've come to recognize that. Although it hardly erases my own responsibilities toward him."

"No, but it does explain a few things." Stephen said as Ian winked out.

Leroy was coherent, eager to get shuck of the infirmary and voluble, but then he was, generally speaking, pretty mouthy.  If he wasn't asking his perpetual 'why' or 'what' or 'who' questions he was talking about something else. Robyna had been sitting with him when Ian, Betty Jo, Lisandro and Hermoine arrived to check on him. He let them know in no uncertain terms he was up to going after Collins some more and rued the fact he hadn't thought to get his own tail out of the car before he hit the mountain. He was learning. The question was, would he learn enough before he got himself killed. All in all, the consensus was yes, with an unvoiced maybe.

Marc and Dinah, after the visitors left made their way upstairs. "So," Marc commented when they were lying in bed wrapped in each others arms (yes, sometimes they actually talked), "do you seriously think Tabitha is hurt that we got a chef?  Because, well, it seems to me, that she's wasted on the mundane art of cookery. And soon enough the kids are going to be more than she can handle."

Dinah sighed and pressed a kiss to his throat.  "I think she's hurt, and deeply, she wasn't consulted when you two were deciding what was best for her.  I also think she doesn't see what she does as just cooking.  I think she sees it as part of how she loves her family and we are her family, all of us, if that makes sense.  It's one of the ways she mothers, with cookies and chicken soup and a pot of tea.  Part of the whole making a home thing.

"It's not that you're not right in a way about her being wasted on cooking.  In the same sense she's wasted on child care.  But we aren't asking her to provide child care.  We're asking her to be a mother.  So I think in a way you took that back when you got Pierre.  If you gave it back to her she and Pierre would be fine with each other."

"Give it back to her how?" he asked, baffled.

"Well the first step obviously will be both of you apologizing for your high-handed machinations in pursuit of your own comfort.  After that I'd suggest you start by making it plain what you and I are hoping for from her.  By asking her, having the conversation outright, not just assuming for whatever reason that she'll never let herself be parted from any of these kids, at least not until they're grown and don't need her the way they do and will," Dinah said.  "She doesn't really know where she stands with you.  She's pretty sure you don't like her, that you just tolerate her."

Marc squirmed a bit to get more comfortable and leaned his chin on the top of Dinah's head. "Well, it isn't that I don't like her. It's that... Well, I'm not happy about how our relationship began, and it's kind of hard for me to get past that."

"Well the sense that I keep getting is that you feel threatened by her," Dinah said.  "Like you feel cornered and have no way out."

He gave that some thought. "Well, she speaks as if my actions are chosen for me. You know. Destiny and all that. I tend to resent it when people speak of predestination."

"Does she?  Or is it that you just hear it that way?  I mean I don't know, I'm just asking, because she's never struck me as the predestination type, more like the life's about making choices type."

"Hmm. Well, for everyone except me, perhaps. Well, and our children."

"You wanna explain that last part?" Dinah asked.  "Because if that's true why are we trusting her with them?"

"Well, considering Christopher it seemed she was right, don't you think? Well, in the beginning I didn't know it was our children, you understand. Just that it was Christopher and Drianna and Stephen and Doni's. Ours surprised her, hah!"

"Marc, love, I'm clueless here.  What are you talking about?" Dinah asked propping herself up on her elbow to look down at him.

Marc sighed and told her, about the Old Ones and the blue bowls and Tabitha's visions.  "It never made a lot of sense to me," Marc sighed again. "If you want further details you'll have to ask her. I've avoided the subject since."

"I see," she said.  "Well, I think it's all the more reason you need to talk to her.  But it's up to you.  Stephen however didn't look happy this evening when we were talking about it.  So my guess is he'll talk to her himself as soon as he can.  Not that that will let you off the hook, since my guess is that your relationship with her is part of what's at the root of this."

"I'm happy with my relationship with her," Marc grunted. "I don't see why I need to talk to her, if Stephen will."

"Don't be such a guy."

"I am a guy, You go make peace. You're better at that than I am. Particularly with Tabitha.  Wave the blue bowls at her."

"Marc," Dinah said, unmoved, "I'm not the one who hurt her.  Besides, I promise you if I do that she'll come looking for you because she's a person who believes in dealing with problems not avoiding them."

"Oh all right,. I'll talk to her in the morning. I've no idea what I should say. Where are the ruddy blue bowls?"

"Start with I'm sorry and go from there," Dinah said.  "The bowls are at the aerie aren't they?"

"Hmmm. I think you're right. I'll leave them on the counter for her as a peace offering."

Dinah wriggled until she was straddling him, looking him in the eye.  "Don't weasel out," she said and then leaned down to kiss him.  "And your reward will be great in heaven and on earth.  Do you know how much I love you?"

"No I don't. Why don't you show me?" he teased.

"You know, for once that's not where I was going."

"Oh damn. Where were you going?'

"Never mind," she said, leaning down to kiss him.  "Now is clearly not the opportune moment."

"Don't DO that! What?"

She jerked up, surprised.  "Wow.  I'll have to remember that button."  She considered him for a moment, a smiled playing around the corners of her mouth.  "I love you, I love you so much I can't even begin to describe it.  Sometimes I try to touch it, to encompass it somehow so I can tell you what you mean to me and it just stops my breath.  Sometimes I just look at you and the reality of how much I love you is an endless ache that demands expression and I haven't the faculty required to do it properly.  There's only those three words, I love you and they don't even begin to express the truth of what you mean to me.  So I need to know sometimes if you know how much I love you, even while I know there's no words I can find to tell you."

He stared at her for a moment. "That's rather frightening, Dinah. I don't see how I can possibly be worthy of such love."

She tilted her head at him, her hair brushing his chest.  "Then isn't it a good thing that worthy has nothing to do with it.  Loving you makes me happier than I've ever been, brings me more joy and more fulfillment than I ever thought possible.  So if you're worried about worthy maybe that's what makes it so.  And if doesn't...well...don't waste energy being frightened.  Spend it on loving me back."

"You are a very odd woman," he said tenderly. "As for spending energy loving you back, that's hardly an issue, since my being seems to love you and finds you necessary to my existence. Which, again is rather frightening for a long-time loner."

"Ah, well, it's a spell I've cast.  Binding you to me forever since I can't imagine being without you.  Do you mind?"

"Not in the least," he said as he kissed her.

Once they'd seen to Leroy, Ian zapped Betty Jo to her flat, arriving in the hallway outside her door. "I suppose you'll have to see Rimes in the morning."

"Would you like to come in?" she asked.

"Would you mind?"

"Not at all," she said, turning to the door.  Then she swore under her breath.  "I haven't got keys!"

"Not a problem," he said and put his hand to the door. She heard the bolts sliding back and the door unlock. He turned the handle and opened it for her, motioning her to precede him.

Once they were inside he looked around her apartment and then finally turned to her. "Are you all right?'

"In what sense?" she asked.  "Because at the moment it's a mixed bag.  Would you like a drink?  Or coffee or tea?"

"Tea would be nice if you wouldn't mind," he replied. "I thought.. I thought after so long you might like to be home."

"Tea coming up.  I just don't know how to interpret it, frankly," she said as she headed for the kitchen.  "Or rather I didn't until you explained.  It's just" she went on, "everything seems complicated and it wasn't before and I'm tired and..."

He captured her arm. "Sit. I'll make tea. You look all in."

She sighed and sank into a chair in the kitchen.  "Thanks.  Now how are you?  Really, how are you?"

He found the tea, and put the kettle on, finding two cups and the sugar.  "I'm fine. Shouldn't I be?"

"There's milk in the fridge," she said, watching him.  "And no, that's not what I meant. I meant I really wanted to to know and didn't want you going all guy-like and stoic on me."

He got the milk and found a small creamer to fill. When the kettle came to a boil he put tea in the teapot and added the water. Then he brought it all to the table and sat next to her.

Finally, as the tea steeped, he answered her. "I'm also British.  We abhor our emotions showing."

"I know," she said, her smile rueful.  "I'm looking for ways around that because I care about how you're doing."

"I am wondering about how uncomfortable it must be for you working for Rimes and me associated with Blackheath. I don't want to put you in a situation that will be difficult."  He reached out to put his hand over hers.

She grasped his hand and squeezed it in gratitude.  "He doesn't know about you and I yet.  I'm going to have to tell him at some point and soon.  I'm also going to have to figure out how to keep Stephen's confidences as well without compromising my responsibility to him.  But he was clear when we talked about the job that he understood there were personal relationships at work here and that that meant a bit of juggling."

"That's surprising. I must say, I doubt he expects the relationships to be this convoluted however. Why didn't you tell him about us, if you don't mind my asking."

"Well," she said, sipping her tea. "I didn't think it was any of his business.  A rather naive position I see now."

"Hmmm. Is there anything I can do to help you with it? Turn him into a toad, perhaps?"

She laughed.  "Well maybe not a toad.  So my job really isn't a problem for you?  I mean I know what you said, but still..."

"Betty Jo, I'm not American. Why should I be concerned about the Zoo?"

"Because as the last few days have demonstrated it's not always going to be confined to just us here in the colonies.  You all, if I may put it that way, ignore national borders on a routine basis.  In doing what you want to do they just don't usually matter.  But more than that I don't want it to become something that causes constraint between us because you're concerned about what I might say to Rimes."

"I won't lose sleep over it. I trust you to keep the important secrets, and if you cannot, to let us know."

"Thank you."  She drank some tea and then met his eyes again.  "So what's the story with Hermione?"

"With regard to how she ended up my apprentice? She confronted me and gave me essentially a treatise on why I should take her on as a student. I was hooked."  He grinned. "I was relieved the appeal wasn't .. well, you know. She's a refreshing change."

"Yes, she is.  But what I meant was what was Lis talking about that made you want to change the subject?"

"Ah. Well, Lis seems to think Hermione believes she almost ruined our, uhm, relationship."

Betty Jo flushed crimson.

"I didn't think to speak to you about it. I'm sorry."

"But why would she even think she was...that she ruined...that she had any reason to blame herself?"

"I doubt she blames herself. I expect she blames me." He shrugged.

"Ian, please, don't blame yourself for what happened," Betty Jo said.  "We both made mistakes, it's no one's fault."

"I know," he replied. "Or rather I'm willing to accept that.  Tell me, what do you think Blackheath will do about the plans?"

"Not knowing they aren't complete?  Keep trying to find them.  In fact either way, they'll keep looking," she said.  "And depending on how much trouble they can make for you over the shooting, they may pressure you or try to force you to help them," she said.

"Well, I have no objection to trying to find Collins. But quite frankly I expect him to go deep and stay hidden for some time. They'll be wasting time and money searching for him now."

"Will you tell them that?"

"If they ask nicely. It's to my advantage to keep them as an ally. But if they get too full of themselves, then, well, I'm afraid they'll find out that I've less patience than Stephen and Marc."

"Well your situations are entirely different," she said.

"Are they? How so?"

"You're not running your own little village, for one thing.  Nor are you handling worldwide rescue missions at the drop of a hat or the site, unknown to the world, of the first interstellar embassy on earth.  You aren't the one whose woman is responsible for implementing integration so Earth can become part of the Unimensional worlds if she so chooses. You don't have dragons living on your property.  And those are just the reasons that leap to mind."

He laughed. "No, all those are certainly true. My life in comparison sounds entirely dull and boring. I only have to worry about a council of vampire princes, rogue mages and witches, and hundreds of missing items of power to track down."

She laughed.  "Everybody needs a hobby," she said.  She hesitated, still smiling and then said, "Do you need to go back to London tonight?"

"Not if I have a better offer."

"I'd like you to stay," she said.  "Does that constitute a better offer?"

His smile was the answer.

Betty Jo lay molded against his side, her head pillowed on his chest, slowly stroking his arm, wrapped in content like a second skin.  She knew he was awake and thinking, the absently rhythmic cadence of his hand moving on her back a sure sign of focused ruminations.  She pressed a warm kiss to his chest and said softly, "Will they cost me a penny or a pound?"

She felt the laugh rather than heard it, reverberating through his chest. "You'd be disappointed to know them, I'm afraid."

"I'm willing to risk it, or like Ilsa said to Rick, "I'm willing to be overcharged.'"

"Ilsa?" he asked.

"Ah, the movie, Casablanca...Ingrid Bergmann and Humphrey Bogart," she said.  "But don't change the subject."

"Hmm. I was just thinking. It's hard to describe. You've never seen my country house."

"No, I haven't," she agreed, her fingers idling on his chest.  "What about it?"

I was picturing the view from my bedroom. The fields rolling downward toward the lake. Watching two people ride like lunatics across the landscape jumping the fences, the horses running wild. I remember standing there watching them, and thinking how much it terrified me."

"Terrified you?  Why?"

"The riders were Adele and Julian. It was her 21st birthday and he'd come to give her a present. We'd argued about it, he and I. We argued a lot in those days. He was determined to give it to her anyway. And I knew everything would change. The present he was giving her was your time. He was giving her a way to go forward in time to this world of yours.  I knew, once she'd seen it, she'd never be able to return to mine."

"So you went with her or was that later?" she asked softly.

"I stayed in my own time, only visiting yours. It wasn't until the Rose and Cross was sucked into a war that crossed not just country boundaries but time boundaries as well, that I decided to come forward to stay."

She lifted herself up on an elbow to see his face.  "So what brought it all to mind?"

"See, I told you you'll be disappointed.  I was thinking how nice it would be to be in that bed, the fire burning brightly and Withers, my rather decrepit butler, bringing up tea and scones."

"Ah, I see.  The best I can do, I'm afraid, is offer to fix you some tea and that probably doesn't even come close."

"Oh, I don't know. I could take us there."

"If you'd like," she said.  "I enjoy travel."

"Close your eyes," he told her. When she did, she felt a slight bit of disorientation and then.. the sheets were of a different texture and the air was more chill, but there was a warm stream of air touching her arm from somewhere. "You can open your eyes now," he told her. "It's just a bit disorienting if you haven't done it much."

She opened her eyes and smiled at him.  "Much nicer than airplanes."

"Indeed," he agreed.   There was a knock on the door and Ian called out "Come!"

A stooped grey-haired man in tails came in toting an immense silver tray on which sat tea and scones, and tiny sandwiches and other wonderful looking goodies.

"Withers," Ian said, "This is Miss DuBois. Miss DuBois, Withers. Just put the tray down by the fire," he directed the butler. "We'll pour ourselves."

"Miss. Sir. Indeed." Withers put the tray down and shuffled his way toward, then finally out the door.

Betty Jo stirred and stretched.  "I can see why you like this place," she said, looking around the room.

It was a large room with a wide window overlooking the fields beyond. The bed, an immense fourposter, sat in front of the fireplace, which blazed happily.

"Want to sit by the fire or stay here. I'm always afraid Withers will dump the tray on the bed."

She sat crosslegged, naked and totally at ease on the bed and looked over at the fire.  "Here," she said.  "I'll save the fire for later, for the next time you ravish me."

"Ah, so there will be a next time. I'll remember that," he said as he got up and brought the tray to sit it on the bed between them.  He poured. "There," he said handing her a cup. "The English cure-all."

She sipped and nibbled, content to watch him for a while.  Then she set her cup back on the tray.  "Now that we're cured, what's really on your mind?"

"I confess to wondering about your latent magical talents."

"Oh," she said.

He raised an eyebrow as he looked at her over his teacup. "You aren't intrigued by that yourself?"

"Well, it's not like I've had a lot of time to think about it much.  I'm certainly surprised and am wondering what Bobbie's going to say since if I am she is too.  But since it's latent...well it's latent."

"Yes, well, you are close friends with someone who can take latent talent and awaken it.  I'm not certain they can do with magical abilities what they can do with psi ones, but it might be interesting to let Marc and Dinah have a look, don't you think?"

"Oh you mean fiddle with the DNA.  Yeah, it would, but why?"

"Don't you like the idea of being a mage?  You can thumb your nose at red-eye flights across the Atlantic if nothing else."

"Could I be your apprentice," she teased.

"You'd have to do everything I told you then," he cautioned.

"Maybe not," she said, grinning.  "But seriously, other than no red eyes why?"

"Lifespan for another."

She leaned back against the headboard and looked at him for a moment.  "Does it matter to you that I'm not talented?  Or that I'm not going to live forever?"

"No one lives forever. But the question is does it matter to you, rather."

"It's on the list of things I've never really thought about seriously.  And sure the idea of dying isn't one I relish.  But I really do want to know what matters to you here," she said.

He frowned. "Why?"

"Why not?" she asked.  "It suddenly occurred to me to wonder about it.  About the consequences of a talented person, who's long lived getting involved with someone who isn't."

"It is why the Awakened have stayed to themselves for so long. It is why the rest of us do the same. For many years I feared for Adele. I did not relish the thought of seeing her grow old and die.  Her mother was not talented, you see. And I had no way of knowing for sure if, when she became mature, she would inherit the long-lived life of mine, or age normally.  It is... difficult to see those we love grow old and die as we continue on. It is difficult not to hide that, as well. And, others want to learn our 'secret.'"

Betty Jo nodded and then asked, bluntly, "So how does that play out between us?"

"I'm not sure, but certainly it is something I think about when beginning any friendship, sexual or otherwise."

"And it would tend to incline you to limit the scope of your involvement, if I understand you, emotionally and otherwise if you do chose to embark on a friendship?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied meeting her eyes. "Otherwise.. Dismay is generally followed by anger, when others realize we will not age and sicken and die. No matter how much they may love us, it is hard for them. The other alternative is to find a way to leave them behind. Think of Julian and Lisandro's mother. Realistically, he could not stay with her, a normal. Even if he loved her."

Betty Jo leaned her head back so it rested on the headboard and closed her eyes.  After a few minutes she drew in a deep breath and opened them again, and looking Ian in the eye asked, "Tell me if you wouldn't mind, and I apologize for the cross examination, but do you want or hope for a relationship that is more than friendship with someone at some point?  Not necessarily with me, but in general?"

He made himself a fresh cup of tea while he thought that question over. Then finally, after he'd taken a few sips, he said, "Honestly? I don't know. Since Adele's mother died there has been no one in my life who mattered one whit. Well, at least not until very recently."

"Well," she said, fixing another cup for herself and sitting back again, "I'm glad we had this little chat.  Because," she said, pausing to take a sip, "it never would have occurred to me to put a brake on how I feel about you nor to limit what it could so easily grow into."

"Ah, well then I'm glad you've been forewarned. I'm sorry. It isn't something we, those like me, feel comfortable discussing."

"Ah, yes, I can see where that might be the case.  And, since I'm in for the penny I might as well go for the pound, what difference would it make to you personally or to our relationship if Marc and Dinah tweaked my DNA?  And before you start down the road of it's not something that should factor into my decision I'll sacrifice the rest of my pride and leave all the rest of my vulnerabilities open by saying that when I said my interest and feelings for you weren't casual I meant it.  When I said I want very badly for this relationship to work I didn't mean just so I could go back to bed with you."

Ian met her eyes and studied her face for a moment. "If you do allow Dinah and Marc to alter your DNA, if they can, you say goodbye, in significant ways, with your family. Are you sure you'd want that? That's the thing you need to think about, the sort of thing I don't want to influence you about. It would be life-changing in ways you haven't yet considered."

She sighed.  "I've watched my parents my whole life, my father grappling with knowing he'll bury us all and live on.  Aging his appearance so they'd stay in tandem to the outside world and in many ways for her.  I'm sure there's much more that we never saw, that was private to their relationship.  I know we just took for granted that that's the way it is.  Some people live a long time and others not so long."

"Ah, I hadn't realized your family dealt with the issue. It will help you. I'm glad. But when you aren't trying to fit in, you become... disconnected to the normal bustle and flow of life. So there is more to it. Still... You've got to realize we're all of us a bit skittish of relationships with normals. But not only for aging issues, but for with long life come many enemies. Several have tried to kill Adele or use her to try to control me. Another reason I've remained alone for so long. And believe me when I say that no matter how competent you and your sisters are, I've some enemies who could... well... But yes, it would change how I look at and think of you. How can it not?"

She smiled.  "I don't know.  I can't always see you behind the ways you...behind the reticence.  Having been burned by an assumption I'm a bit gun shy at the moment."

"Ah. Betty Jo, it is a fact I do not have a lot of liaisons beyond ... useful ones. And not many of those recently, either. My previous assistant died and since then... Since then beyond a mutually agreed upon one night stand or three, there's been no one in my life beyond Hermione, such as that is. As for you, I thought we'd both agreed this is more than just a casual relationship. How far beyond that, I can't say for my part. I'm not sure. I'm on rather unsure ground."

"I actually understand that.  I'm not worried about your sexual history, if you want the truth.  Most of that I could perhaps have guessed since there are moments when your loneliness is more deducible than others.  I'm unsure myself, for a lot of reasons, because more than just a casual relationship doesn't necessarily mean the same thing to you as to me and I didn't want to assume.  I'm not trying to pin it down so much as identify the universe it's in.  I'm not even trying to wrangle a declaration of undying love or a plea to tweak my DNA so we're never parted in this life or the next.  I just want to know what you think.  You'll notice," she added with a teasing smile, "I didn't say feel."

"I think that I hate being long-lived and that I envy those who have a home and a family and friends, and will grow old and die and find peace. I also think that I must be careful of any friendships I make because my life, such as it is, might make us enemies in the future. I think that you should discuss it with your sisters and your parents."

"I will but not until I talk to Dinah and Marc.  Do you think you could ravish me in front of the fire now?"

"Now that I can answer with a definitive yes."  He swept her up in his arms and carried her and the blanket she was partly wrapped in to the fire.