Cassidy finished rereading the personnel file on Ethan Novak and leaned back in his chair, shoving the file away from him. As he digested the data his back brain suggested pistols at dawn while his frontal lobe suggested rotating him back Home. He rejected both ideas in part because he didn’t….yet…have grounds for either killing him or transferring him back to Home. Mostly though he rejected the second idea because he knew that if he sent Ethan back to Home it would do nothing to free Irisa from the emotional hold Ethan still had over her, mostly in the form of fear.

At the moment all he could do was keep an eye on him and make sure Irisa was safe. He grinned, remembering the last time he’d made sure Irisa stayed safe. It wouldn’t be nearly as easy as that, he reflected ruefully. Especially since Ethan struck him as at least smart enough to play it cool in front of others. Still he could maybe give Trevor a heads up. Or could he?

He took a few minutes to think that through. What reason could he give Trevor beyond a feeling? His brain stem interrupted to point out that feelings were valid and should be paid attention to in this case. His frontal lobe was of two minds on the subject.

Could he do something else, his frontal lobe wondered, like maybe have his past relationship with Irisa investigated?

It was a thought, but closer examination revealed the fatal flaw. If he started poking around in Irisa’s past, she was sure to find out about it and lose the plot entirely. So he couldn’t do that. Talking to Stephen, who’d presumably known the man for a long time and had probably personally recruited him was marginally better but still there was the why do you want to know question, one he had no satisfactory answer to at the moment beyond a nagging feeling.

Well, his brain stem wanted to know, how often is she alone? Maybe we could just make sure she’s never alone.

His frontal lobe hopped on board that suggestion immediately. Cassidy rather liked it himself. He just didn’t think Irisa would go for it, especially since he couldn’t tell her why.

But, he thought, he might be able to talk to her about it, indirectly as it were. Sort of feel her out a little and see what happened. Her reactions would probably tell him whether he was worrying about nothing or whether there was something to the nagging feeling.

His frontal lobe sat up straight, saying, “uh oh, that’s a negative there, ghostrider. The pattern’s full.” His frontal lobe was a big fan of Top Gun. His brain stem, an even bigger fan, agreed.

But couldn’t he, he thought, just sort of ask her if she’d tell him if she were afraid or something? He thought he could maybe get away with that without making her think he was being too protective.

His brain stem looked at his frontal lobe and they both shook their heads. Cassidy ignored them. He’d have to be really careful how he played it but he thought maybe he had a plan. He nodded to himself. And if she started to get mad at him he’d just back off and let it go. Yep, he had a plan.

Their early morning briefing done, Irisa sent Daisy on back to the Refuge and Irisa then zapped off to the small apartment she kept on Home. It was handy when she had to be here late, or when she had multiple appointments.  This way she had a refuge of her own to retreat to to regain her confidence, and repair her make-up.

She sighed with relief when she was safely inside, and double checked that the door was securely locked.

She looked around at her personal items.  Some day she might move them down to the Refuge, but not yet. They were treasures, most of them, and although she had no fears of anyone taking anything from her rooms at the House, still, she felt odd at the thought of someone coming in to clean or repair something and handling them.

She kicked off her shoes, let down her hair and collapsed onto her couch, staring out at the view. She could see a small park below and that always relaxed her. She sat there, her mind reliving the last several days.  Her shock at seeing Ethan at the Refuge, having to tell Cassidy, and most difficult of all, speaking to Ethan and facing him alone. She smiled as she thought of Tommy. He was an angel. And she felt badly about asking him to keep what he'd witnessed a secret, but it frightened her to think of Cassidy getting all protective of her and, well, what?  Picking a fight with Ethan?  Ethan was the sort who'd encourage that.  He worked out, he was strong, as she well knew, and he had a temper. A bad one.

She got up and walked over to a small sideboard. She sank to her knees in front of it and slid open the bottom drawer. The first thing she saw in it, the most noticeable thing, was a picture of her and Ethan. They both looked happy. She was happy. She'd been happy, for the most part with Ethan. Why else would she have been willing to deal with his jealousy and his possessiveness?  Why else put up with his following her and checking up on her and demanding she tell him where she was at all times?

She might have put up with it if he'd never hit her.

She shoved the framed picture aside, and reached further down into the drawer.  She pulled out a small box. In it was a Glock 33 subcompact pistol. Laz, seeing it, would probably approve. She closed the drawer and put the small pistol into her purse. She crossed the room and got out a couple of magazines from a box in the back of a closet. She put those in her purse too.

She'd had lessons. She knew quite well how to use it.

She stared down at her purse bleakly. Then, gathering herself, she zapped home to the Refuge.

Doni picked Adrianna up from her crib murmuring soothing sounds and promising dry diapers and food. She changed her swiftly, expertly and then sat down in the rocker, moving it gently back and forth as she fed her, humming a lullaby that was older than she was.

Christopher she’d already fed and changed. He was in his crib, sitting up, watching her solemnly as she fed his sister and playing absently with his toes. He was, she thought, going tp look exactly like his mother when was older. He already had the same hair, comprised of every shade of gold imaginable, the same curls, the same brown eyes that sheened silver with emotion. He had too, she thought, the same empathic gift that Lily’d had, already strong and intuitive.

His connection to Adrianna was more than just a simple sibling nursery bond. Adrianna herself was more her father, a silent and serious baby, never fussing, never demanding, but always regarding you out of huge green eyes that seemed a million years old and held the wisdom of the ages. Cognitively, these two were way beyond their years in awareness, perception and problem solving.

She was burping Adrianna, still monitoring them both mentally, when she felt their minds join together and reach outward…towards the twelve week old fetuses in her womb. They’d done it before, several times. But this time they made contact, forming a nascent connection with them as they responded…responded in an organized manner, not reflexive or instinctual…her twelve week old fetuses responded as if fully neurologically formed. And then things got really strange.

Doni said nothing to anyone as she left the nursery they’d set up for the babies, not even to Tabitha who gave her a look as she left. She headed straight for Stephen’s office, a frown and a smile fighting for space on her face. Tommy wasn’t holding the fort today, but she could hear Marc and Stephen talking. She knocked and went in, not waiting for an answer. “Mind if I interrupt?” she asked, smiling at them both.

“Not at all. We could use a break, I think.” Stephen replied. “What’s up?”

“Well,” she began, “I just thought you like to know what your kids did today,” she said straight faced. “Seems that Christopher and Adrianna wanted them to come out and play, so they went in…mentally mind you…and uhm knocked on the door…so to speak. And your children, uhm, answered the door. Then all four little minds went off to play.”

Stephen stared at her.  "Went off to play?"

"Yep." she confirmed.  "Twelve week fetuses with fully developed minds...in itself a bit unusual...just up and exited their little fetal bodies and along with Christopher and Adrianna, created a mental playground and had a blast making up games and getting to know each other.  Which in itself was startling enough, but hey...could have been stranger.  Oh wait...I spoke to soon." she said after a short pause for effect.  "They did get stranger."

"Stranger?"  Stephen parroted.

"Oh yeah, my love.  Your two little darlings...boy and girl if you're curious...have formed what I would be hard pressed to describe as anything other than a fully functioning bond with the other two, a sort of four way relationship."

"A metaconcert?" Marc asked, surprise on his face, staring at Doni's tummy.

"Dunno.  I mean I don't know what that is," Doni told him.  "But I do know that even now, with all four of 'em sleeping the sleep of angels, that bond is still there.  Not like bond mates, but uhm...still there.  And they don't actually like being too far away from each other, from what I can tell."

"May I ..." Marc asked, obviously meaning he wanted to examine the bond.

"Don't wake them," Doni ordered.

"I'll do my best not to," Marc replied. Doni sensed the soft touch of his mind against her sleeping twins. Feather light, and softly nurturing, something she wouldn't have expected from Marc of all people.

"We called it a metaconcert," he replied as his consciousness left the children. "A way to combine power to more closely mesh abilities."

"Ah.  Well, I don't know that they were meshing abilities.  I can say that every time prior to today I've been around Christopher or Adrianna they were checking them out.  Today was the first time they got a response though.  And, the other thing is that Christopher and Adrianna had a similar connection prior to this.  It's almost as if they just expanded it to include their new playmates."

"What has Tabitha had to say about that?" Marc asked.

Stephen sent a swift questioning glance his way, while Doni shook her head.  "Haven't told her."  Then she looked from Stephen to Marc and back again.  "Okay," she informed them, taking a seat.  "Spit it out.  What is it you two know that I don't."

Stephen groaned.  He looked at Marc who made a gesture indicating it was his show.  "Tabitha, uhm, thinks that our children and Lily's are...well...going to be unique in a number of ways." he began.  Then he told her what Tabitha had told him.

Doni, frowning, just took it in.  Then looking at Marc she asked, "So uhm, as the uhm, unborn one...do I have that right?...you'll do uhm what exactly?  To the children I mean?"

"So, you know about that silliness, do you? I have no idea what I'm supposed to do with or about them. I try my best to ignore Tabitha when she's spouting prophecy."

She just looked at him.  "Haven't known her long then, have you?" she asked, a smile lurking in her eyes.  "But regardless...it is safe to say that something a bit...unusual...is going on here.  And I for one am at a loss.  My two showed a rather high level of distress at being separated when I finally sent everyone home for a nap."

"So, sounds like you'll have to sleep alone," Marc said grinning at Stephen.  "I expect it will get worse before it gets better."

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Stephen stated emphatically.

Marc, lips twitching, retorted, "Hard to explain that kind of thing to babies, but give it a go by all means."