Chapter Four: Everything Old is New Again

[The Draoi]

The young mage stood somberly in the entrance. No colorful vests or dress shirts this night, but instead a faded grey Planet Hollywood t-shirt -- giving the others their first clear view the extensive arcane Celtic tattoos on his arms for the first time -- and a pair of jeans. Martin, the baby he'd been taking care of for several months was in a carrier on his back.

"Hi everybody... I figured I'd save you on the phone bill."

Jamie threw herself out of the chair and threw her arms around Riordan. "Thank God. We need you."

Riordan hugged Jamie back firmly, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"I know, sweetheart. I know about Garrett... I could feel it, I still feel it."

"There's got to be something we...you can do to fix things." She said pleadingly.

Riordan gently released the blonde, kissing her forehead as he did so. He wordlessly went over to the monitors; placing his ever-present satchel on the counter top.

"I do have some ideas. I brought some things that should help." He smiled a sad smile at Jamie. He walked over to Faith and Charlie, noticing their body language and physical comfort with each other as he did so.

"How are you, Red?" He said as he gave her a chaste but comforting hug.

Faith wrapped her arms around her friend, wiping her tears against his shoulder. Instead of answering his question, she looked up into his eyes and asked one of her own. "You felt it?"

"Yeah, we spent time together, fought together, worked together, in some ways we were friends. With people like that, I get updates now and than; if their hurt, if they're injured, if they're happy or sad." He chucked Faith under the chin, "Usually its stronger the closer I am to a person so with Garrett it was pretty minimal for the most part but a death... no way I'm not feeling that."

"Riordan." Jamie said her voice pleading. Isn't there something you can do? You have all this power. Bring him back!"

As the mage released her, Faith reached for Charlie's hand. While she understood the emotion behind Jamie's question, she didn't feel comfortable with the request. The return of Bluewolf had set a strange precedent. And, while she felt guilty for hoping, she still hoped that Riordan would say no.

Riordan turned slowly back to his Blonde friend, his eyes momentarily closing. He had suspected that this had been what she wanted but he had hoped that she would calm down and see reason.

"Jamie it's not like that. You don't know what you're asking. I'm sure after some rest, in the morning light... you'll see that." Riordan said comfortingly.

Jamie's eyes flashed with power. "I know exactly what I'm asking Riordan." She said through gritted teeth. "I couldn't save him. I want him back to erase that."

"Jamie, I wont do that, I don't do that."

Jamie slapped the magi across the face. "He was your friend and teammate!" She screamed "Doesn't that mean anything to you?" Tears poured down Jamie's face.

"Jamie..."

The Mid-Night Man walked back in through the shadow at the same time. "What the hell?"

Riordan's hand went lightly to his now red cheek.

"Its okay Corin. We're okay here." the sorcerer said evenly.

"No we are not ok." Jamie cried. "This selfish bastard won't help Garrett!"

Riordan sighed.

"Fine." Riordan said dead seriously, "You want me to bring him back... let's do it."

"Riordan?" Corin gave him a worried glance.

"Don't..." Faith squeezed tighter on Charlie's hand.

Riordan ignored them both and strode over to Jamie. He grabbed her gently but firmly by the forearm and walked her over to center of the room. He fell to his knees and tugged her along with him into the same position.

"You. Over here." He gestured to his satchel and it flew roughly to his side.

"Okay so lets get this going..." Riordan snapped letting going of her arm by sliding his hand down it to her wrist, the still fresh blood coming off on his bare hand.

"This is his I take it?" He said showing her his stained hand.

She nodded.

"Riordan, I..."

"Good so that's settled." He proceeded to draw a crude figure on the ground between him with the blood. Without so much as a glance in its direction the mage's bag popped open and several candles flew out and encircled the avatar of Ra and the Celtic sorcerer. With an exhale of breath from Riordan they all lit still not touching the ground.

"Now picture Garrett not as he was in life but as you last saw him."

Jamie closed her eyes. Tears streaming down her cheeks. Suddenly between them a misty image of Garrett's body begin to solidify.

"Holy..." Corin said his mouth a gape. "What are you doing?"

"I'm giving her what she wants Corin..." Riordan said, his steely eyes never wavering from Jamie's tear filled ones, "Right Jamie? This has to happen; Heaven, Hell and the World be damned?"

Jamie's eyes fluttered open a look of shock on her face. "W-what?"

"Where is he now Jamie? Where is Garrett?"

"H-his apartment?" Jamie stammered.

"No, I'm not asking about a dead body, I'm asking about Garrett... where is he?

"I...I don't know."

"You know what? Neither do I..." Riordan said calmly, "But..." He looked down at the now very solid looking image of Garrett's body, "But he's certainly not in that. He's not here anymore Jamie."

The "body" disappeared as did the blood (both on the floor as well as off their hands and clothes) and the candles came to rest on the ground but remained lit.

"And that's because he doesn't belong here anymore... He's on a new journey now, a new adventure. I know we live in a world of wonders, of miracles and magic but that doesn't mean life isn't happening around us. Real life happens Jamie, and real death is a part of that."

"But... I..." Her tears continued to fall. Riordan leaned forward and took her in his arms.

"I know sweetheart, there's a mistake in your world. That shouldn't happen but it does. There's a mistake, a glaring hole. Part of you keeps waiting to wake up back in Garrett's apartment, after successfully having saved him, he'd be wide awake just a few stitches needed. And we'd catch the bad guy and have a few drinks in celebration.

"There's a mistake, a hole.

"Well we gotta fix that and that we can fix. Because here's an open secret...we're not some ragtag superhero team. We are family, you are my family Jamie Harris. Love unlike life is never-ending and like water or air it well expand and fill in all the blank spots."

Riordan smiled at the team leader and brushed a hair away from her face and wiped the tears from her eyes. He exhaled loudly with a smile and stood to his feet, helping Jamie do the same.

"Now its time to do some real magic."

Jamie wiped the fresh tears from her eyes and kissed Riordan on the cheek. "I'm sorry." She took a few steps back and curled her arms around Corin's shoulders.

"No need to apologize to me. No one in this room is at fault here."

Pulling Faith close to him, Charlie looked on. "We will catch them, Jamie. And we will make sure they are locked up and can never hurt any of our people again." He glanced over at Corin, then The Draoi, then back to Jamie. "Then we will have a drink. Not in celebration of our victory, but in celebration of the life of our teammate. And in mourning, not for him but for us. Because he's in a better place. And we are left behind."

For a moment the room fell into silence, but not an awkward one, it was reverential, serene, almost comforting. Almost at the exact same moment everyone stepped towards each other, seeking the others, wanting to feel close.

"Yes, left behind... but not alone." Riordan smiled, "Though we more than one another to comfort us."

Riordan danced his fingers in a wide circle and suddenly the candles came to life again, floating up and out encircling every one in the room.

"If you would kindly indulge me... and link hands?" Riordan said warily with a soft smile, holding out his own hands to Jamie and Charlie, Jamie took it quite quickly while the thief in green momentarily hesitated before ultimately complying; the others following suit.

"Now, all of you... I know this may be hard but please think of Garrett. The living, happy, brave and wonderful Garrett... times you've shared, missions you went on, all the moments you want to keep forever because now you will..."

Corin closed his eyes thinking of the first time he met Garrett and how Garrett freaked out the first time he shadow jumped with him. A smile, for the first time tonight tugged at the corners of Corin's lips.

Jamie, tears still welling in her eyes, thought of Garrett's eagerness and how he was always so willing to please her.

Faith leaned against Charlie and smiled through her tears as she closed her eyes. Her fondest memories had nothing to do with Garrett in costume. Instead, she focused on their lunches together, time spent just talking, and the way they formed a friendship despite such different backgrounds. And, as silly as it seemed to her, she could clearly remember every single food-fight.

For some reason, out of all the memories that flipped through Riordan's mind the one that stood out the strongest was the moment when Garrett referred to Martin as Riordan's son.

"Cuimhnigh i dtólamh, cairde riamh éag, cuimhnigh i dtólamh, cairde riamh éag, cuimhnigh i dtólamh, cairde riamh éag..."

Unlike some of his other spells, this one was almost a song; so soothing and lyrical. It washed through everyone in the room.

As everyone felt the spell's power they started see silvery strands of light flow out of their chests an head and weave themselves together in he center of their circle. As they silently watched,Riordan's spell repeating in back of their minds. The silver formed a a vision of Garrett striking a heroic pose atop a pedestal.

With a soft smile Riordan released Charlie and Jamie's hands and the others followed their lead. As soon as they lost contact a rush of wind came out of the circle's center and the silvery image of Garrett materialized.

"Wow." Corin breathed.

"Riordan," Jamie wiped more tears away, "That is..." She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

Riordan hugged her back just as tightly.

"You'll now find that your memories of Garrett have crystallized in your minds. You'll never forget a minute you spent with him, those memories will never fade, never blur."

Walking over to where Corin dropped it, Charlie picked up the package from his apartment. He took it to the counter and deftly opened the wine bottles, pouring each of those present a glass.

Delivering a glass to everyone, he returned to Faith's side and raised his own. "To Garrett. Gone, not forgotten, having gained his eternal reward we all strive for. Watch over us, Morpheus."

[Bluewolf]

The loft apartment above the Green Dolphin Street was darkened, save for the glow of a computer that sat before the lone occupant. The thrum of a standing bass filtered its way through the mostly soundproof floor, punctuated here and there by muffled horns and the occasional cymbal clash. It was the club's open mic night, and the stage was currently occupied by an "experimental jazz trio" from the university.

The avant-garde sound had pushed most of the regulars to the bar, leaving only the group's close friends at the floor tables. The ultimate result being a light night for business, which every club was to have now and then.

A dark-cloaked figure moved between shadows. The night's activities hadn't gone quite as planned, causing some feeling of annoyance. There had been hopes for a grand Shakespearean ending, wherein the hero, his lady, and a large number of their friends and family lie dead on the stage.

Alas, it was not to be. The hero's associates had proved too efficient. They had managed to spirit the lady away and throw insurmountable - at least without proper planning - obstacles in the way of the family members. All save for the lowly older brother, at least. Ah, well... one takes what one can get.

The figure edged around the room towards the man seated at the computer. With a faint whisper, a knife was pulled from within the folds of the assailant's cloak. The blade flashed with reflected light from the monitor as the figure neared its target.

"I'd say that's close enough, Constance."

Caught off guard, she moved with a surprising speed at the sound of the voice behind her, her heart speeding just a little. She grabbed the young man, pulling him back off his chair and against her chest. He yelped a little bit, but the quiet call for help was cut short as he felt the blade pressing against his throat.

"No..." She turned slowly to face the interloper. She kept the girl's brother tight to her chest, tilting that blade ever so slightly so it would catch the faintest of light. "No, this is close enough. For now." She eyed him, looking him up and down. "For you, anyhow." She gave an almost casual look to the man's face beside hers. Her thin red lips split in an almost hungry smile. "I expect to get just a little closer to my friend here..."

She gave the blade in her fingers the smallest tug. A thin bit of crimson welled up under the glimmering steel and gave way, leaving a solitary line rolling down into his t-shirt.

Logan choked, trying not to swallow. "Please..." His glassy eyes rolled toward her, fear opening them wide. "I don't... what... do you want?"

She shushed him with a soft, cooing sound. "So very little, my pet." She blinked and opened her eyes upon the interloper. "Perhaps a little alone time?"

"No." There was no mirth or amusement in the azure avenger's voice. He tilted his head. The light of the computer monitor reflected in the lens of his visor. "You're done here."

"Oh," a voice with the rasp of soft static rose from the other corner, "not just here." The strobe of crackling blue light from his fingers cast an imposing shadow across the floor. Kardiac took several steps toward her, undeterred by the way she pressed the blade harder against her prey's bare neck. "Not by a long shot."

The killer's eyes moved around the room. "I see." Her red lips curled in a wicked grin. "What will I-"

"I'm done waiting," growled the verdant vigilante through gritted teeth.

"Fine by me." Logan turned his head toward his captor. An inky blackness had coated the blade against his neck. It became cold and hard. His face was shifting, becoming someone else entirely.

Staring at the cowl clad stranger she couldn't completely conceal her surprise. "Oh." But no sooner had she spoken, she was down on the ground with the Logan impostor standing over her.

She looked over the three men as the approached. Constance closed her eyes. She laid a hand over her brow and laughed. It was a shrill, chilling sound. It shook her body. Tears rolled down her face. "All this attention for little old me... Garrett would have been happy to know you all cared so much about him."

Heavy-lidded eyes opened. Constance's basilisk gaze wandered between the men standing over her. "Of course, this isn't just about him, is it." It wasn't so much question as statement, her eyes settling on Kardiac.

"The can't keep me locked up forever you know. Even your... friends, the ones that work in the dark, shadowy, places the three of you won't go.

"One way or another, it will end on my terms. You can't watch over them. All of them. For the rest of your lives..."

"Enough!" Kardiac growled. He shouldered Capin aside and grabbed the woman, holding her a good foot off the floor. "You'd be surprised what kind of dark, shadowy places I'd go t--"

Before Kardiac could finish his threat, the area around him exploded with a blue-white flash of electricity. The effect was like a flash-bang going off, without the concussive blast, but it was enough to take them all momentarily off-guard. The acrid mix of ozone, and burnt clothing, hair, and flesh filled the room. The woman called Constance stiffened in Kardiac's hands, then went limp. Her body hit the floor as the verdant vigilante dropped her.

"That-" He took a step back, shaking his head.

"Wasn't you. Tell me that wasn't you, Sparky."

"No."

---

"It wasn't." Bluewolf explained. "Though it did make for a tense several minutes.

She had rigged her suit. I think she knew there was no way out from the start."

"God," Corin said with a sigh, "not exactly the end we wanted."

Kardiac crossed his arms and fell back against his chair. "Not all of us, anyway..." he muttered, eyes narrowed.

A few nearly-silent steps brought Faith into the room. She hesitated as she drew near the table, running her thumb along the calloused fingertips of her left hand before deciding that Corin was the safest to focus on. "Jamie's sleeping. Riordan put something in her drink that knocked her out. She's going to be mad when she wakes up but she really needed it."

She didn't look at Eddy. But she took the seat near him anyway, drawing her knees up to her body as she waited to hear whatever details were left to be shared. She'd have time to talk with her partner later... once she'd decided which emotion to take out on him first.

"Good." The Starlight Sleuth nodded. Corin rubbed his eyes, "She hates losing to The Bastard and she's done it twice recently." Corin shook his head, "So what about Constance; what did you do with her body?"

The question seemed to pluck at the tension between the three veteran heroes. Aaron pulled off his visor and tossed it on the table. "The body is in the custody of GCPD. As you can imagine, they're a little touchy on the subject of dead bodies," his eyes cut toward Kardiac and back, "so Roo called in your friend Madison. He's homicide, was on scene at the apartment. There's a level of trust there."

When Aaron finished, Eddy turned without words and walked out of the room. His body language made it clear that this was not a decision with which he'd not agreed, but one he had agreed to live with. In any case, the conversation looked like it was about to turn to aftermath and worse, giving a crap, so there was no reason for him to stick around.

Aaron swallowed. The look on his face made is clear that whatever he was about to say was unpleasant. "We tagged the body, though. It moves, we'll know about it."

Corin nodded. "The LT. will make sure things get taken care of."

Spencer walked into the meeting room, nodding at Heist who stood a little apart from the others, watching Faith. The Investigator of Enigmas walked over to the girl and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Your brother is back down in the club," he said. "And Logan is pissed his night was disrupted, but otherwise he's fine."

The redhead wrinkled her nose, irritation flaring to the surface in the wake of Eddy's exit. "You should have used him as bait," she pouted.

Then, chewing on the inside of her lip, she looked back to Aaron and Ryu with her next question. "What about his family? What are we going to tell them?"

"GCPD was with them the moment we knew what was going down." Ryu finally slid down into his seat at the table. "Now that they have his killer, they'll let them know."

He leaned against his armrest staring at the solid table for a thoughtful moment. "I don't know what Garrett's family knew about his other life, but for their own safety I think it better we let them keep thinking this was just a police matter. Let any leads between Garrett Sanders and Morpheus turn cold." He regretted the expression the moment it had left his lips.

"So it's just some random home invasion shooting?" Flaming tresses fell across her face as she shook her head. "That's not right."

Ryu lifted his face. "It's not fair," he replied softly, "but it's right." He found her eyes. "What happens when his brother thinks he should pick up where Garrett left off? Or the next psycho looking to make a name for themselves gets wind of this and tries to lure us out by going after the Sanders?"

"I'm sorry." Ryu shook his head. "None of us around this table have luxury of glory. When Ryu Kokezaru dies the world isn't going to mourn."

Faith didn't answer him. Hugging her knees to her chest, she let her hair hide her face and the tears in her eyes.

Moving forward, Charlie knelt and put his arms around Faith. "Maybe not the world, Roo, but we will. And we should mourn Garrett too."

"We've already taken care of that." Corin said solemnly. His hands traced the brim of his hat. "Riordan cast a spell using our memories, well, those of us that were here. It left a memorial of sorts for him."

"Touch the memorial anytime you'd like, Capin, it'll crystallize your memories too." Riordan smiled sadly as he entered the room sans Martin.

Ryu looked up at Riordan. He had met the man only once before, and it had in Garrett's apartment. But he didn't think about the cowl that wasn't on his face. In that moment it really didn't matter. Instead he rubbed his chin in his hand, thinking about just what his memories would add. A sadness passed through him as he found them lacking.

Still, he nodded. "Thanks."

"I found a room that didn't look like it was designed to kill anybody and put Martin down for a nap." Riordan said taking a seat.

Corin nodded. "Good. He gave another deep breath. "I think at this point, folks, ever body needs a good night's sleep. We all have overtaxed ourselves, and we really need to let ourselves rest."

Ryu probably should have been more tired than he felt. Corin was right of course, but that nagging feeling persisted. Today had hammered home the fact that even while they rested, others wouldn't and didn't. There was no sleeping now.

He slid his seat back. "Celsius is on patrol."

He had made sure of that much. With nearly all their resources focused on one singular event somebody had to keep an eye out on everything else. If this had proven to be one small cog in a greater plot, everything might have gone to hell.

Thankfully for once, things had remained quiet.

"I'll check back in with her and put another pair of boots on the town." He stood.

Aaron picked his visor up off the table. "I'll join you."

The cowl already on, Capin nodded. "Sounds good."

Corin shrugged. "Fine ignore a doctor's advice." Corin picked up his hat and spun it on his hand before he placed it on his head cocked back far enough so that the shadow didn't hide his eyes. "Myself, I'm going to take Jamie home an try to help her."

"Am I allowed to go home?" Faith asked somewhat acidly.

Ryu nearly winced at the sting in her words. But he held it back. She had every right to every feeling that was boiling up, and he knew it.

"Faith..." He looked her way, despite the urge in his chest to avert his gaze. "I'd be hurt. Angry too." He was moving around to her side of the table, pausing at her side.

Those blue eyes stared back at him, watery and reddened.

"She was coming after you particularly. She'd gotten Garrett and she was coming for you." He crouched down. "We had to act fast, so we did what we thought was safest and smartest. We protect the city and the people. And we protect our own."

"All the people she wouldn't expect went for her. And we got her." He put his hand over hers. "Don't think for a moment if you weren't needed out there you wouldn't have been right in the thick of it."

"I do know that, Roo. Here." Faith took her hand away from him to touch her forehead. Looking into his eyes her voice dropped to a whisper, her explanation for him alone. "But my partner..." She didn't finish the thought. She doubted she even could. There was only one person who needed to hear her every thought on the matter. She didn't need to take it out on her friends.

"Is glad you're safe," he said softly. "And did everything he promised he would to make sure you were in the meantime."

Her old friend offered up an sad smile of understanding. He reached out for her and touched her gently over her heart. "You'll know it here too, given time."

She moved his hand so she could give him a proper hug. "I'm going home with Charlie," she decided, telling herself she was going to stick to that decision.

His arms closed around her, and he gave her a squeeze. "I'll allow it."

Charlie looked at Ryu and raised an eyebrow. "You don't really have any choice in the matter," he said, his voice matter of fact but a slight smile on his face. "But don't worry. We'll keep each other safe."

Corin stood up and walked over to Faith and hugged her. "Text me when you get home. And remember I'm just a shadow away."

Riordan made his way to Faith's side as well.

"My turn!" Riordan laughed slightly, "I know I don't have a goatee and a bad attitude but I do wear a lot of green, so call me, visit me whenever you need someone to yell at or just to talk to." The mage said as he hugged the redhead, "Everything really is gonna be all right."

Corin walked over to a shelf and pulled a set of shot glasses and bottle of whiskey out. He poured the whiskey and handed out each one in turn.

"To Garrett." He held up the shot glass.

"Garrett." Faith raised her glass.

Garrett! Riodan smiled, holding up his glass.

"To Garrett." Wolf nodded.

Roo held his glass up. "Garrett."

"To Garrett."

"Garrett."

[Faith]

Dawn was just starting to make its way past the rooftops of nearby buildings, setting Faith's fiery hair ablaze with warm light as she stood in front of Eddy's brownstone. There were four steps that led up to his front door. On any normal morning she'd race up them, let herself in, and head downstairs for their morning training/talking time. Today she stood rooted at the bottom, trying to prepare herself for how not normal the morning would be.

Charlie had offered to come with her, to drive her, to do just about anything to make sure she felt supported, but she'd gently declined. This was something she needed to do on her own. If the day ever came when she needed backup to talk to Eddy--her partner, overbearing brother figure, and one of her best friends ever--she'd know that things were too broken to be fixed.

So instead of standing there feeling cold, Faith forced her feet to move. "Eddy?" The silence that greeted her inside the front door was anything but encouraging. "I'm coming in." Locking herself in, she went downstairs to check the gym first, then the kitchen, then the rest of the house. A sigh pushed past her lips at the discovery of his undisturbed bed. She didn't know if it made her feel better or worse to know he hadn't slept last night.

Her own night hadn't been exactly restful. Despite being emotionally exhausted, she'd tossed and turned for hours before finally drifting into restless sleep. Running a hand over her tired eyes, the redhead wandered back to the living room to settle into her favorite corner of Eddy's couch. He'd come home eventually. She could wait.

---

Kardiac alit on the roof of his brownstone, scanning the area for anyone looking 'up.' It normally wasn't much of a concern, but he also usually returned before dawn, and it was far too bright for his tastes. He was just happy to be home. Eddy felt bad about missing his morning appointment with Faith, but given the events of last evening, he doubted she had even considered coming by for their normal practice.

Dropping down into his bedroom through the skylight, he peeled his uniform shirt off of his body. The sweat made a sickening noise as the Kevlar mesh peeled off of his skin, and he winced at the places where the fabric tugged on fresh welts. It had been a long night, and the verdant vigilante had been in possession of quite a bit of frustration. Given the source of some of that frustration, he reconsidered his feelings on missing his morning routine with Faith. He wasn't sorry after all. Better to leave that door closed for now.

Toweling off his chest and back, sometimes painfully, he stepped into his bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. Days like this, he never liked what he saw. Today it seemed worse somehow. Not for the argument with Roo and Aaron... That was becoming commonplace since their little road trip to Hell. It was the issues with Faith that haunted him right now... The argument he knew would come and the inevitable conclusion of that fight. And then there was the other issue... the Charlie issue. No... it wasn't Charlie. It was worse than that.

Splashing some water on his face, he dropped his goggles by the sink basin and slid his glasses over his ears. He needed to sleep, but first he had to check the news for signs of last night's troubles. Still shirtless, he tossed a towel around his neck and headed downstairs. he walked past the living room, barely feeling the slow, rhythmic heartbeat on his sofa, and headed into the kitchen. He swung open the refrigerator door and grabbed a bottle of Sunny-D and a mini-bar bottle of scotch and mixed them in a glass, that heartbeat scratching the back of his mind.

Putting down the first gulp, it finally hit him that there was one too many heartbeats in his house. Taking his glass with him, he headed into the living room and circled the couch. Eddy looked down on Faith's sleeping form. Even asleep, despite all the emotion and wear from the sleepless night before, she was a thing of beauty. He frowned, hating himself for thinking so. She was his partner, at least before yesterday, and he shouldn't let himself notice that kind of thing. Still... it was undeniable.

Setting aside unwanted musings, he stretched out a leg and shook the sofa on its feet. "Wakey wakey," he said, gruffly. "The Happiness Patrol is back in town." As she started to stir, he sat down on the coffee table in front of her. Eddy expected the worst from the conversational options set before him, but he had been prepared for that even before he had initiated the situation that made such a confrontation inevitable.

"I thought the room seemed brighter," she said without opening her eyes. Then, remembering she was supposed to be mad at him, the little redhead frowned as she stretched out along the length of the couch.

"You're a rotten alarm clock and-" Finally looking at him, her blue eyes widened in surprise and concern. "Ohmygosh. Eddy..." Her fingers stretched out to touch the angry red mark along his bare shoulder. One of several, she noticed with another frown.

Eddy shrugged to cover up the quick intake of breath at her touch. He chalked it up to grogginess, but so far it was going better than he’d thought it would. Of course, he expected it to fall through the floor the minute he opened his mouth. With another breath, he told himself to rein in the sarcasm and just try to be honest with her about his reasons for what he’d done.

”You should see the other guy,” he said, completely discarding his previous train of thought. Realizing his utter failure to keep his emotional defensiveness in check, he sighed and turned his eyes away from hers. ”I had some things to work out,” he continued, being as honest as he could at that moment.

She didn't want him to be hurt, especially when she hadn't been there to help him. Drawing her fingers back, Faith reminded herself that being alone out there had been entirely his decision. "Really?" she asked, pouring on the false sympathy. "It must have been pretty hard on you. All that locking me up, abandoning me, and walking away from me."

There it was. And he deserved it, though he didn’t regret the decision he’d made. He was keeping her safe. He had to. But now wasn’t the time for him to suddenly come clean. Now was the time for him to have the argument... let her take out her frustrations. After all, he deserved it.

”Guilty as charged,” he said, frowning. ”And the choice was entirely mine, though Roo and Aaron backed the call.” And then, once again, his advice to himself fell on deaf ears. ”But it wasn’t just to protect you... I did it to protect me too.” His voice was low, soft... strangely forlorn and distant.

His change in tone didn't register. She sat forward to make sure he was listening to her. "I know, I know. I'm your responsibility and you can't let anything happen to me." She had the speech nearly memorized... just like the 'if I was ten years younger you'd actually be attractive' speech. "It wouldn't have hurt anything to spare two minutes to explain things to me yourself instead of dumping me on Corin. But whatever. I don't care. I..."

She wanted to reach out and shake him but there was no safe place to grab. "Eddy I needed you. I've never called for you before. Ever. But I needed you and you didn't come." She wanted to stay mad, to yell, to hit him, to do anything other than feel the tears start to slide down her cheeks. "You came back to debrief, walked out, and stayed out. And if I hadn't come here today..."

"I answered... and I should have got back to you," he said, happy for a change in the direction of the conversation. "but I had to focus on Garrett's family... and yours. And I couldn't stay after my debrief. I wasn't in any place to kumbaya over our 'dear departed friend'... I was dealing with keeping myself out of the gunsights of every cop in town."

"Besides... I didn't want to put myself between you and the thief," Eddy continued, a little more bitterness than he had intended seeping into his voice. "I'm afraid that I don't feel comfortable inserting myself into 'snuggle time with the felon'," he added, his already-defensive evasiveness being swallowed up by emotions and resentments he had been burying for too long.

After a beat, he took a deep breath and averted his eyes. "I'm sorry... I... I didn't... that came out wrong...."

"He has a name, you know," she snapped, wiping her eyes and glaring at him. Being angry was much easier than being sad. Especially since it didn't seem to matter to him at all that his absence had hurt her. "And I didn't even have to call Charlie. He just showed up. Good thing he did... since you weren't coming back for me anyway."

”Wasn’t coming back for you!?!” he said, spinning on her and throwing his arms into the air. ”The only reason he could ‘come without being called’ was because my first thought -- my only thought -- when I heard that your friend had gotten himself killed for running his mouth was getting you out of that bitch’s sights. You were her next target, and you damned well know that!” he added, beginning to pace with frustration over it all.

”I only went after that psycho to keep you safe! Because the thought of that killer hunting you...,” he said, stopping suddenly. He stopped pacing, his back to her. His shoulders slumped, despite the tone in his voice remaining steady, frustrated. ”The only reason I came back to the Doghouse after we got her was to see you, to let you tear me a new one, and instead of getting even a moment to deal with that, to explain, I have to watch that... criminal play the worrisome boyfriend while I get angry glares through tears that I can’t stop! How the Hell do you think that makes me feel?”

His voice dropped, frustrated but without anger, and with a heavy sigh, he drew a weak shrug. ”You’re the only thing I have in my life worth having...,” he added, shaking his head, briefly. ”Sometimes I think you’re the only reason I even do this anymore....”

She couldn't process. She could barely even find the words. "Eddy..." Talking to his back helped a little. "The only thing I wanted was for the only person who mattered to take a minute and hug me and tell me he was sorry my friend had died..."

Eddy dropped down to sit on the coffee table, back still to the sofa where she sat. ”I didn’t want him to die... I wanted him to learn. But he wouldn’t learn... and he was endangering you,” he said, still not wanting her to see his eyes. ”So I wasn’t sorry -- I’m still not -- and I didn’t know how to say I was. All I wanted was to hold you and let you cry it out. But I didn’t know how... and he was there.”

"I don't understand." Her voice was something between a laugh and a whine. This was not at all how she'd expected this conversation to go. Somehow it had all become her fault. With a sigh she leaned forward until her forehead came to rest against his back. It was as close as she could come to banging her head against something. "And I'm sorry I needed you to be something you're not. But Eddy... nothing ever stops you from doing whatever you want. Why would you let Charlie stand in your way? He knows how important you are to me."

Eddy flinched when her forehead touched his skin, the warmth of her skin against his. ”It’s not about who I am or who I’m not... and it’s not your fault,” he added with a sigh. ”I just don’t know... things are just... complicated. And he makes it more complicated.”

He leaned back, straightening her up before turning around on the table. He reached out and took her by the shoulders, looking her in the eyes for about a half a second before his gaze dropped to just below hers. ”I want to be the man you need me to be... but... it’s just... not that easy,” Eddy confessed, frowning. He had a lot more to say, but he couldn’t let himself say it... it was better if he kept certain things to himself.

”It’s complicated.”

"I'm sick of that word," she told him, reaching up to wrap her hands around his wrists. At least she could hold onto him. "So you have to un-complicate it. Because I hate being mad at you and if you yell at me again I'm gonna fall apart. And we just... we can't be messed up or complicated and broken like this or nothing else in the world is right. So just... stop."

Eddy removed his hands from her shoulders and without thinking slid through her grip until her hands were in is. He let their hands, together, fall to the table. He forced himself to look her in the eyes. "I can't uncomplicated things," he said, his lips tightening. "Because as messed up and broken as this is... there are only two ways to 'uncomplicate' things. And both options would only make things worse."

She gave him a confused look without words. There were tears in her eyes, and he couldn't bear it... but he didn't know what to say. The truth would just destroy what they had. How could he make her understand without telling her the one thing that he knew would ruin everything... "I don't want to push you away... but the other option is worse. There are things I just can't say, because they would ruin...," he paused, glancing away from her again. "They'd ruin everything we've worked to build here... ruin our team, our friendship... ruin us."

Faith was trembling, shaking with a fear that had her clinging to his hands as if he might disappear on her at any second. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." She didn't even know what it was. Whatever that horrible thing was that made pushing her away the only good choice. "I'll fix it. Just don't..." This couldn't be the start of distance between them. "I promise, I won't push anymore. Just don't make me leave. Please."

He gripped her hands and kept her eyes locked onto his. This was going way, way in the wrong direction. He was the one ruining things, not her. "It's nothing you can fix," he said, still frowning. "I don't even know that it needs fixing...," he added, trying to reassure her. "It's just something I have to learn to live with... seeing you with... him." He stopped, realizing what he'd said, and hoped he hadn't said too much... hoped she hadn't read the truth between the lines.

Instead of giving her too much time to think about it, he grabbed her and pulled her into his arms, her head resting on his chest and his hands gripping her to keep her from seeing his eyes. "I'm not going to push you away... I can't," he said, the scent of her hair forcing him to close his eyes and concentrate on every word. "You're the only good thing I have to hold on to." he hoped that those last few words might be enough to distract her from his previous statements... hoping she'd forget what he very nearly confessed.

He loosened his grip, giving her a way to escape the embrace. "You're my heart." he said, trying to make it sound 'brotherly' instead of letting it sound the way he really meant it.

Faith didn't let go. Arms wrapped around him, she hid her face against his chest long after the pressure of his hug had ended. "You scared me," she whispered. And that was putting it mildly. Terrified. Devastated. Those were far better words. As much as it had hurt to have him put her safety above her feelings, the thought of losing their... this... was far worse.

Perched precariously on the edge of the couch, she closed her eyes as she held onto him. She was dangerously close to falling into the tight space between couch and coffee table, but she was pretty sure he wasn't going to be dropping her anytime soon. That meant she finally could take a minute to think. She'd been so ready to yell at him, to force him to understand what she'd been going through, that she hadn't taken the time to consider his side.

But his side was complicated. He was...

She stiffened in his arms before she could force herself not to react. There were certain paths her thoughts were strictly forbidden to wander down. She was not going to think stupid things. But sitting here listening to his heartbeat, it was awfully hard not to. "Eddy..." She didn't even know what to say. Lifting her head just a little so she could look up at him, she bit her lip before asking, "We're going to be okay, aren't we?"

”No,” he answered, peeling her off of him and pushing her back onto the couch. He was so sick of this... sick of being the one who always did the right thing for what everybody else perceived to be the wrong reasons. He was sick to death of always being the ‘bad one’ that Momma Wolf had to reprimand. His “friends” didn’t know who the Hell he was anymore... they’d been gone too long to know anything, and they just wanted to pretend that time hadn’t passed and he hadn’t changed.

Well, screw them! Just because Mom and her girlfriend were back in town didn’t mean he was going to let them drag him back into old roles. He was done with that, and he wasn’t going to let that person he was get in the way of his relationship with Faith. He hadn’t always been honest with her, but he always trusted her... and they needed to deal with this before it got one of them killed. He needed this to be over for his own good, and his past be damned!

He’d never get over these damned ‘feelings’ to go away until he got them out... then maybe he could let go and she would be able to change her presence in his life enough to let him move on with it.

He looked her in the eyes, his face serious and straight. There was a mix of frustration and release in his eyes. ”We aren’t going to be okay, because we’re not okay... and we can’t be okay until you know the truth. And right now, I don’t care if that truth damns us, because I can’t keep lying to you. It’s killing me... and last night it damn well could’ve killed you.”

He stood up and walked to the other side of the table, imposing that small ‘something’ between them. She gave him a concerned look, her eyes welling, and he steeled himself against those tears. She opened her mouth to say something, but he raised a hand and stayed her voice. No... not this time.

”I can’t keep walking on eggshells around you, because it’s going to get me killed. It’s a constant distraction, and that doesn’t do either of us any good in the field.” He stopped and turned to face her again, letting the gap (and coffee table) between then steel his resolve. ”I wish I didn’t trust you so much out there... wish you weren’t so damned competent, because then I would have an excuse for being distracted... but I don’t. You don’t need me to babysit you anymore, and the truth is that I’m damned proud of the way you’ve grown... but I still catch myself paying more attention to you that to the people we’re trying to fight... and it’s gonna get me killed”

”Eddy...,” she said, leaning forward with a confused and hurt look, about to reach out for him. He took a step back and looked away from her, putting his hand out and snapping his fingers together in a ‘shushing’ motion.

”I’m not finished...,” he said abruptly and a bit more sharply than he’d intended. ”And if I don’t get this out now, we’re going to be right back where we started. So please do us both a favor and just listen.” He took a deep breath and turned back to her, but avoided her eyes. ”I can’t stop watching you... and then it ends and we tie up the bad guys and before you know it, I’m dropping you off and heading home.”

He took another breath. ”But I never go straight home... because I know where you are. You’re with him, even if you’re just crashing for the night, and it’s all I can think about while I drive off. So instead of doing the smart thing, I take my exhausted ass back out onto the street and fight. I take out my frustrations on whatever loser is stupid enough to cause trouble in my city because it’s easier than thinking about you laying next to another man... you getting back to your life and being free of me while I can’t be free of you and I can’t let myself find another life while I’m trapped in...,” he looked around the room and swung his arms wide, encompassing not just the room but their entire situation.

”...this!” He let out a harsh sigh, then turned and took a step to the side where he didn’t have to see her eyes. ”And I don’t even know what this is... it’s certainly not what I intended it to be... or even what I wanted it to be... but here we are.”

He turned his back on her completely, his back muscles tight and tense. ”I shouldn’t be here... shouldn’t have let this happen, but here I am and I don’t know how to stop...,” he added. ”But I know it’s wrong, and I know you don’t feel that same way that I do, and it’s just going to keep getting in the way and putting us both in danger, so you needed to know so we could decide what to do about it.”

He sighed again. ”I know it’s a shock, and I know this is probably the absolutely wrong time for this to all come out into the open, so please... if you can’t deal with this -- if you can’t deal with me being like this -- please just go now... because I can’t keep hiding it. And if it’s going to make you uncomfortable, if you can’t get past it, I need you to just leave so I can move on.”

”But if you can get past it... if you still want me for a partner and you are willing to put up with me while I get over yo... this... insanity... then I’m willing to try,” he said with another deep breath. ”You’ve made me a better person and a better ‘hero,’ so I’m not gonna push you away... but I can’t just let things keep going the way they are either.,” he said, finally... carefully examining the wall, his back still to the room and to her.

”You had to know.”

A heavy silence fell over the room as Faith sat there staring at his back. Speechless was not generally a word that could apply to her, but Eddy had managed to steal every coherent word, and thought, from her mind. She couldn't have expected this, not in her wildest dreams. This was exactly what she refused to let herself even think of thinking about. And now it was sitting in the room, filling the space between them, and leaving her staring in open-mouthed shock.

Her hands ached as she forced herself to let go of the arm of the couch. Of course she'd been holding on too tight; her world had just shifted. If he hadn't pushed her to sit down she probably would have been thrown out of the room.

Without a word she left the couch and came to stand behind him, surprised at how strangely calm she felt. Her fingers came to rest on his shoulder, brushing along his skin and down his arm until she could get a good grip on him. His muscles tightened beneath her touch. "That's the second time in the last two days that you've done the right thing in totally the wrong way."

Amazed that she wasn't trembling, Faith turned him around to face her. Her free hand gently found his cheek and she couldn't help but give a little smile at how thoroughly he'd convinced her that he would never in a million years feel anything more than brotherly affection for her. "You're so..." She couldn't find a gentle word. "Wrong. Because we are going to be okay. And I'm not leaving. And I do..."

He looked back at her, obviously confused. "...do? Do what?" he asked, honestly. He really had not yet caught up to speed on what was happening here. It wasn't going the way it should.

She forced an awkward smile for his benefit, though it didn't seem to fit her face. "I do feel the same way."

That took a few second to register. And even when it did register, it took a couple more to sink in. Eddy just looked at her for a moment, trying to figure things out. That was not supposed to be her reaction to the craziness he'd just unleashed. He didn't know what to say here... wasn't prepared for that response.

So, like a mute fool with no other recourse, he kissed her. It wasn't the kind of kiss that songwriters and romance authors write about... not at first, because his brain was having a hard time keeping up with his actions. But the two eventually synched, and the kiss became what it was meant to be.

At first, her hands fell against him as if to push him away or resist. But that didn't last for long... but the kiss did. He didn't break their embrace for what felt like forever in an instant, as if he feared that its end would mean the end of it all... that she'd come to her senses and run while she had the chance.

When he finally stopped, he continued to hold her, not sure what to do next. So he just looked her in the eyes and held her gaze... thinking about nothing and everything at once.

If she'd needed proof that he wasn't joking or toying with her in some way, she'd certainly gotten it. Breathless, she stared at him, her thumb coming up to touch her lower lip as if she could still feel his kiss. "I think that's three," she told him, sounding slightly dazed.

Her hand returned to its resting place on his chest, keeping him - no - keeping herself from doing it again. "Eddy... we... I..." Shaking her head to try to clear it, she pointed at the couch. "Just... come sit down with me. And no yelling."

Then, afraid he'd take the request as rejection or proof she was going to walk away or a sign that he hadn't just given her the most amazing kiss in the history of kisses, she took his hand and started over. "I've been yours since... well, a long time. But you know as well as I do that things are complicated." Despite everything, it was somewhat satisfying to use that word on him.

Eddy walked with her over to the couch and sat with her, turned towards her. ”I’m sorry for... well... I’m not sorry for the, y’know... but I am sorry it was...” he paused, sighing in frustration. ”I panicked, okay?” he said, unnecessarily defensive. Then he caught his tone and adjusted it. ”You’re just so... I’m an idiot.”

She shook her head as she started to answer him, but instead she just smiled slightly. He started again before she got the chance to speak. ”Look, I know it’s complicated... more complicated than I think you’re talking about... especially with the thi -- Charlie --,” he said, choking out the name with obvious distaste. ”But I... feel... the way I feel, and if you’re not running away from that, we have to figure out what we’re gonna do about it...,” he added, ”Because it’s eating me up inside and keeping me from thinking straight in the field.”

Eddy shrugged, his eyes drifting from hers subconsciously. ”And if you do feel the same way,” he said, not challenging her veracity but trying to reinforce the belief in it within his own, thick skull. ”Then I don’t know what to do... because I wasn’t really prepared for that....” He smirked slightly despite himself. She felt the same way.... ”My system doesn’t deal very well with ‘happy’.”

"You better get used to it." Realizing what she'd just said, Faith blushed and looked away from him looking away from her. It was the sort of thing she would have said to him before, but now... he was hers. Or he could be. Or would be. Or...

Her hand was on his arm, suddenly needing reassurance that he was real and she could touch him anytime she felt the urge. "We're going to figure this out," she told him with her usual confidence. "And it's going to work. Because I'd be a pretty bad partner if I didn't help you think straight in the field."

Despite the smirk that tugged at her lips, she was serious. The thought of him distracted or endangering himself in any way was not something she wanted to consider. "But it's not going to be easy. And not just because of Charlie." The smile faded from her face. "No matter what you think, he's... amazing. And he so didn't deserve me kissing you like that. That's why we're not doing that again until I've talked to him and sorted this thing out." She decided to leave out the part about really, really wanting to kiss him again as soon and as often as possible.

"But even then... Eddy, I'm your sister's husband's cousin. It's the same big, complicated family. We're in the public eye and you'll have to deal with that. Unless..." She paused and bit her lip. "You plan on keeping me a secret." Pushing ahead, she decided that she wasn't going to get upset over possible future complications... yet. "I mean, I could handle it if that's what you need. I keep secrets all the time. It would just be a little weird. But I could get used to it. I'm just afraid..."

She didn't want to finish the thought. He'd started this whole crazy conversation when all she'd been expecting was a nice little fight, to make him understand why she was upset so they could move on and everything would go back to normal. Except there was no normal anymore. "You've been dealing with this... thing..." There was no way she was going to be the first one to name it. As far as she knew, none of the normal relationship-ish words fit the situation anyway.

"Well I have too. Because right from the start I've been too young for you and too much like a sister and everything else. So while you were out beating guys up and being distracted in the field because of it, I was making sure I didn't even start thinking about it. I found a boyfriend, a really nice guy who adores me and who the rest of the team loves. Because nothing was ever going to happen between us. We were just partners. And it didn't matter that my boyfriend used to steal things because he's good. My parents love him. He takes me to the ballet and to charity functions. He watches out for me. And I do love him. It's just..."

She couldn't look at him, not when she was this close to tears again. "... he's not you."

Eddy slid off the couch to sit with his legs folded beneath him. He took her hands and looked up into her moist eyes. ”This is why I didn’t tell you... why I didn’t want you to know.” He lowered his eyes as he continued. ”I’ve spent my entire life screwing up my entire life....”

”Eddy,” she said, abruptly, placing her fingers to his lips. But before she could continue, he gently removed her hand from his mouth and lowered it back into her lap, his eyes once more locking on hers.

”No,” he said, smiling slightly. ”Let me finish... this is going somewhere.” She nodded slightly, her eyes a little more wet than when he’d seen them a moment before. ”I’ve been bad for myself... and for everyone I’ve ever tried to have any kind of real relationship with... Lexi, Viv, Jen... heck, even my own sister. And the thought of spoiling you somehow... it terrifies me.”

”But I’m not that man anymore, no matter how much I’m still haunted by him,” he continued. ”Aaron and Roo don’t see it. They don’t want to admit that their time away changed them, and because of that, they can’t accept that I’ve changed... ands it’s been bringing the ‘old me’ to the surface more and more often lately.”

He shook his head, lowering his head for just a second and raising it as he continued to speak. ”But he’s not me... not anymore. You told me once that you thought Sil had been good for me, but you were wrong. It wasn’t her... it was you. I needed her because I needed a bridge to pull me out of what happened with Viv, but it wasn’t until I met you that I realized I was free of that.”

”From the first time I met you -- the first time I really met you, it was you I tried to convince myself otherwise... tried to be Batman to your Robin or ‘Eddy’ to your ‘Anna’... but that’s not what it really was. Because it wasn’t some empathic power that broke me free from that rage that had been poured into my soul that day... it was your eyes... the sound of your voice.”

He squeezed her hands. ”But I can’t hide it any more. I lo..., he paused, catching the word in his throat. ”...look at you and I see me differently, because I see the man I want to be for you. The man I can be because you believe in me.”

He took a deep breath, his face going from serious to grave. ”But this isn’t fair to lay on you... to drop on you out of nowhere. You’re right... you moved on. And I can’t ask you to turn your back on a good guy just because I’ve finally pushed myself beyond my own cowardice. So I won’t,” he said, frowning.

”I can’t say ‘dump him for me’... because it’s not fair. But,” he continued, bringing his speech to its conclusion, ”you are going away for a couple of days... with him... and I’ll be here... so we’ll both have time to think. To adjust... and I will learn to live with whatever decision you make... for you. Because you -- your welfare and your happiness -- are all that matters to me.”

It was quite possibly the most perfect 'I have feelings for you' speech she'd ever heard... not that she'd heard all that many in her life. And the fact that it had come from Eddy made it even better.

It was also officially more than she could take emotionally.

Without a word she threw herself into his arms, wrapping her own arms around his neck and holding on for all she was worth as she cried on his shoulder. Her friend was dead. She was about to break Charlie's heart. And, somehow, amazingly, she'd had Eddy's heart all this time. And right now, he was holding her... letting her melt into his arms.

As her tears rolled across his skin the storm of emotion began to subside. This was exactly what she needed. Not a fight or even an apology for locking her up without talking to her. Just the most important person in her world holding her while she cried.

After several deep shaky breaths and a half hearted attempt to wipe her eyes, she began to calm down. She also became aware of the fact that she was practically sitting on his lap and that he was still very shirtless. "You know, it's awfully hard to cry properly when you're being so distracting," she chuckled shyly, running her fingers across his collarbone.

And for the first time in days, Eddy’s lips curved into a genuine smile. Even now, at this confusing and emotional time, she could make him smile. He wanted to kiss her again, but this time it would be deliberate... intentional, and as much as he wanted it, he couldn’t. Not yet. He knew Faith, and he knew that, with her seeing the thief so soon after, a premeditated kiss would make her feel incredibly guilty.

Hell, she’d already feel guilty enough over the first kiss... so that one would have to do. It would have to last until they could truly be together. So instead, he settled for gathering her into his arms and squeezing her... perhaps a bit too tightly, leaving a small brush of his lips across her cheek as he released her back onto the sofa. ”And for the record... I meant what I said. I’m done hiding. If you decide that we are going to do this, we aren’t going to keep it from anybody except the bad guys.’

”Sylph and Kardiac,” he continued, ”will just be partners in the eyes of the public and the underworld, but the team will know the truth... and ‘Eddy, the undeserving ne’er-do-well artist from the Wells’ will be on the arm of Garrison City ‘princess and celebritantte, Faith Kavanaugh’... for good or ill.” He looked her in the eyes, and a thin smile crept back to his lips.

”If you want me... I want to world to know,” he said, his smile widening mischievously as he continued. ”Because, Hell... nobody would believe me otherwise.”

Though her cheeks were still wet, her smile grew to match his. "You know all those times you managed to get out of dressing up with me? Well those days are over, mister." She reached out to touch his face then blushed. This was bizarre new territory that she couldn't wait to explore... after she took care of everything else.

"I really did mean to talk about yesterday. But we kinda got off topic." She grinned at him again. "And I still can't decide if I want to send you upstairs for a shirt or not. But before I let you go anywhere and especially before I leave to go check in on my parents and take some alone time to think, I have to make sure..."

Running her hands through her flaming hair, Faith relaxed into a comfortable not-touching-him position on the couch and gave a sigh. "You just told me that you've been all distracted and not able to focus in the field and we both know I'm going out of town soon so how am I supposed to not worry about you now that I know what you've been doing to yourself?"

”You worried about me before you knew how I felt,” he said, smiling. ”And I worried about you before I knew how you felt.” He brushed her hair behind her ear. ”We should just accept that we are always going to worry about each other... it’s just who we are and what we are to each other.”

”It is impossible to be this connected without certain side effects,” he added, his hand brushing her cheek on its way back to his side. ”But I can put aside the worry... if you can.”

She nodded, a little smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. "Of course I can. I worry about you every time I'm not around to watch over you. This is nothing new." Watching him for a minute, Faith let herself see him in this new light...the way he smiled at her, the gentleness in his touch. It was a big complicated mess, but it was wonderful.

And it was all still a little hard to believe. So she gave him a teasing smile and changed the subject. "I still can't decide if I want to press my luck and try for an apology or not."

Eddy sighed dramatically. ”Fine,” he said, rising back to his feet. ”I’m sorry,” he continued. ”...that you think I need to apologize for trying to keep you safe.”

She rolled her eyes and laughed at him. Rising from the sofa, she turned towards the door. ”You’re impossible!” she replied, shaking her head.

Eddy reached out and grabbed her wrist, spinning her around and into a loose embrace. His eyes fell to hers, his lips impossibly close. ”Not anymore,” he said, smiling with just the corners of his lips. He was there, holding her... he was hers... and all she needed to do was reach out. ”I’m very possible.”

She wanted to kiss him, but she couldn’t... not again. Not yet. So she gently twisted out of the embrace and took his hand, her eyes going back to his. ”I have... I have a lot to do. More than I realized,” she added, the last part a little softer than the rest. She led him down to the front door.

”I know,” he said, and that was all. Eddy let go of her hand and watched her leave, knowing this time that she would be back... and for more than just work. As the door closed, he looked at it one last time. ”I’ll be here.”

[Daylight]

Jamie sat at the main console in the Fort pouring over Garrett's crime scene and autopsy photos. On another screen were all of Garrett's reports which she had never had time to read before now. Each time she saw something that would have given a clue to his murderers madness she mentally flogged herself for not believing Garrett about just how dangerous she was.

The blond pulled her hair back into a pony tail, her eyes never leaving the screen. This was the third straight night that Jamie had stayed up the whole night reading these files. Looking for anything she could have done differently.

"You're not going to find it, you know." A deep voice carried over the drone of console. "The answers you're looking for, that is."

Jamie nearly jumped out of her seat. For a big guy, Rex Midas could certainly be quiet on his feet when he wanted to. The Auric Avenger sat down next to Jamie, his chair giving a slight creak in protest as he settled his large frame into its leather cushions. "I hear you've had a rough go at it recently."

Jamie nodded. "He gave me all the files on the psycho," she punched up a picture of Garrett's killer on the screen, " I always meant to read through everything and help him find her, but..." her voice trailed off as she looked up at a picture of Garrett on screen.

"But as the team lead and as a doctor, you feel you've failed."

Daylight nodded. "Y-yeah. I just did everything I could to save him." She sniffed. She was Now trying to hold back the tears that had flowed so freely in the past few days. "I promised him I would help him."

"It's a sad fact, Jamie, that you're not going to be able to help them all. In either of your chosen professions." His words were blunt and felt like a blow to the gut. One of Doc's massive hands closed over both of Jamie's "I'm not going to sugar-coat anything, if that's what you were expecting.

"The law of averages is against you, Doctor. The leading cause of death is life. It goes against your very essence to admit it, but the sooner you do, the sooner you'll be able to pick up and carry on."

A tear rolled off Jamie's cheek and splashed on his hand. "Do you remember he was the one that said I should be leader in first place? He had that much faith in me." She gave a watery laugh, and then pulled her hand from under Midas's and wiped her eyes. "I've fought death and lost before, I'm a doctor it's what I do and I know that, but this time it was different. It was a friend." She was silent for a few moments. "I guess his faith was unfounded. When he needed me I failed him."

"Unfortunately, that's the price of leadership. That doesn't mean his faith, or that of the rest of your team is unfounded. Nor does it mean you failed him." Doc leaned back in his seat, prompting another squeaky protest from his chair. "As I recall, Garrett was an adult, capable of making his own choices. He got in over his head, as we all do from time to time.

"In this case, the ending wasn't a good one. In this line of work, they often aren't, but it's how we carry on that makes the difference. To honor our fallen, not to lament their loss in an endless series of 'what-ifs.'"

Jamie looked down at her hands for what seemed like forever, taking in what Midas said. Jamie finally nodded. She swore with a sigh, and looked up at Doc. "I know, and I also know that 'what-ifs' can drive you insane. It all just seems so," Jamie stood up and walked over to the chair that Garrett once occupied and ran her fingers over the symbol on the back, "pointless. We," she let out a derisive laugh, "the boys stopped Constance, but she killed herself rather than letting herself get captured. It's all hollow. We didn't get any kind of true closure, Garrett didn't get any justice. The bitch didn't even give him that!" the blond's hands began to glow with the rage that overtook her again. "And to be honest, I don't know if I truly believe Kardiac didn't kill her."

"So you're going to second-guess your three most experienced operators?" Doc asked pointedly. "That's not exactly keeping the Esprit de Corps running at a high level."

"I have complete faith and trust in Aaron and Ryu," Jamie's eyes burrowed into Rex's, "Eddy is a different matter. He made it clear to me that he wasn't a part of this team." She sighed. "He gave me a list of things he wanted done before he would consider it, chief among those was neutralizing Constance. And we've seen how that worked out. He had to step in and clear out our mess. Who the hell knows where he stands after that."

"And you think Aaron and Ryu would allow him to not face the consequences of his actions?"

Jamie opened his mouth to speak, but closed it. She shook her head. "You have a point there." Jamie said with a embarrassed laugh. "So doctor what is the final prognosis? Am I too far gone?"

Doc gave her a warm smile. "Not at all. In fact..." he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a worn notepad and an impossibly small pencil. He scribbled something on the sheet before tearing it from its coiled binding and handed it to Jamie. "My prescription is to take a week off. Recharge, try to relax, etc."

Jamie laughed again. She then stood up and hugged the large man. "Thank you."

---

Jamie took Rex's advice. She went home called into the hospital and made arrangements for herself and Corin to take a week off.

A few days later, the blond was sitting on the beach at sunset flexing her toes in the sand. Growing up, Jamie loved sunsets. She would watch the colors drain from the sky turning day into night. Now that she was the champion of Ra it was different. Sunsets now made her sad. They made her feel old and tired. She tried to smile as the sun finally disappeared under the horizon. The breeze was cool but at the same time it had a warm taste to it that just made her feel relaxed, like the past week almost never happened.

She could hear the crunching sand behind her and knew it was Corin. She didn't even open her eyes as there was a fwump in the sand next to her.

"So," Corin said cautiously, "how goes the relaxing?"

Jamie sighed. "I am starting to feel much better." She still hadn't opened her eyes. "Where have you been?"

"Just got off video chats with Doc and our men in the GCPD."

Jamie finally opened her eyes and gave a reproachful look at Corin. "I thought we said no work while we were here."[/jamie]

[corin]"This wasn't exactly work." Corin said, a smile crossing his lips. "This is more therapy."

"Okay?" Jamie leaned forward, her arms resting on her knees. "Therapute me."

Corin handed Jamie his tablet. "Doug ran a full autopsy on Constance. She died from an electrical jolt to her heart from a special breastplate in her clothing. Sparky never actually did anything."

Jamie's head drooped. She took in another heavy sigh. "Good. I really didn't want to have that hanging over us."

"So," Corin put an arm around her bare shoulders, "what do we do now?"

"We do a lot more drinking, relaxing and quite a bit more of what we've done the past few nights." Her mouth widened into a smile. She tipped over slightly and bumped her shoulder into him.

"Oh I think I could totally be into that." Corin grinned wildly.

Jamie giggled as she turned her head back to the darkening sky. The last splashes of sunlight creating halos in her hair. She tucked a loose strand behind her ear. "Can we really keep doing this Corin?"

"I'm still a strong young man." Corin laughed.

"Not that," Jamie laughed as she shoved Corin, "what I meant was, can we keep doing this superhero thing? We keep doing as much as we can, but Ranger's still going strong, Garrett has been killed and who knows what's really going on with Anyssa. Sometimes it seems like we can't even make a dent."

Corin nodded but didn't say anything. He sat thoughtfully for a few moments. "Would it be better to stop?" Corin answered her question with a question of his own. Corin traced a circle in the sand with his finger. "Could we be content with just being normal, living our lives and just letting these powers, these gifts go to waste? If you feel like we could, then I'm right behind you."[/corin"]

Jamie stared down at the circle Corin drew. She drew one of her own intersecting his. "No," she said softly barely audible over the waves, "no we can't just be normal."

She turned and kissed Corin passionately. The two of them fell into the sand and continued kissing. As the last red rays of the sun faded behind the ocean the two finally broke apart. Jamie looked down at Corin breathing heavily.

"I love you." Jamie's sand covered hand ran through Corin's hair. "As long as I have you, I can make it through anything."

Corin's hands moved up Jamie's hips holding her in place. [corin]"I'm not going anywhere Jamie." He raised up and kissed her again.

After several more moments Jamie pushed Corin back down to the sand again. "One of these days, when we start having kids, then we'll talk about a normal life."

"I'm gonna hold you to that." Corin smiled.

[The Draoi]

The hospital seemed empty without the familiar "scent" of Jamie and Corin's auras. Riordan "The Draoi" Burke felt at ease within the sterile hallways of Garrison General regardless. As he made his was through, he waved to some of the patients, flirted with the female staff and what not.

"Hello Mister Feigenbaum, how are we doing today?" Riordan smiled as he entered the older man's room.

"Terrible, just terrible as always."

"Well consistency is nice I suppose."

In response he had a minor coughing fit, Riordan took that as a yes.

"So what's got yah in the hospital Mister Feigenbaum?" Riordan said as cheerily as one can ask that particular question.

"I broke my hip... again." the elderly man said as he struggled to rise from where he sat on his hospital bed.

"No need to get up, I'm sure its not good for you." Riordan said stepping forward instinctively, motioning for him to sit again.

The old man waved Riordan off with his cane.

"Don't coddle me Burke! I'm not an invalid!"

"I know, I know, you can take care of yourself!"

"I can take care of myself!"

"That sounds familiar." Riordan rolled his eyes, but remained smiling.

"They're everywhere, they caused my accident. They're in this room right now, its why I called you." The old man said waving his cane around like a wand.

Riordan let his senses experience the room as a whole. There was something in there with them. Riordan has initially assumed upon entering the room, that it was the usual spiritual refuse that people tended to collect over their lives that sometimes became much more noticeable towards the end of one's life.

Now that Riordan was actually looking though, he could see passed that, there was something else there too... something intelligent.

"Mister Feigenbaum? Who, exactly, are they?"

"Its the Mazikeen." The older man grunted.

"The Mazikeen? Invisble demon spirits that cause trouble?" Riordan said scratching his head a bit.

"They don't just cause trouble, they're killers!"

Riordan mumbled something in response, not that the old man was really listening anyways, Riordan was to busy staring into a dark corner of the hospital room. His eyes narrowed as he thought he saw some movement.

Just than a shadow shifted, a cat... all black save for it's gold/green eyes.

"Is there a cat in this hospital?" Riordan snapped somewhat outraged at the hospital's lack of basic health codes.

"There's no damn cats in here, I'm deathly allergic."

Riordan ignored the other man, he just stared motionless at the spot where he had seen the shadow.

Suddenly the cat-like eyes popped open again and almost sent Riordan himself jumping back in surprise.

"Okay," He said turning back to Mister Feigenbaum, "Its not the mazikeen. Its some form of cat-spirit or demon. Possibly a bakeneko or a nekomata, as I didn't get a look at its tail."

---

Jean-Pierre Sylvestre or as he was better known to the people of France, Atmosphérique raced down the streets of Paris scared out of his wits. He had encountered an evil the likes of which he had never had known before.

He knew he was a champion of the Egyptian wind God Shu. He learned that when he worked at the Muséum national d'histoire naturelle and he found that canopic jar. He was working as a art restorer when he accidentally opened the jar and the wind God came forth. He offered Jean-Pierre a chance to help people, a chance to become a hero.

And so he did become a hero. He had the adoration of the people, he was the last person to defeat the old Doc Midas villain Freebooter. Now however, he was running for his life.

"Why do you run?" The man said in perfect French as he walked calmly after Jean-Piierre. "You only delay it." As he spoke, the red smoke that the man controlled curled and snaked it's way around Jean-Pierre's legs.

Jean-Pierre used his control of the winds to push the smoke away praying he could make an escape from whoever this man was.

He turned a corner, slammed hard into what he thought was a wall. He fell back against the watt of the alley and slid down it. He looked up at the mammoth reptilian monsters that stared down at him hungrily.

["You shouldn't have run boy." Ak-Fet Sur's footsteps echoed off of the alley walls. [b][script]"I have been trailing you for sometime and finally I find you and you run." He shook his head like a father reprimanding his child. "Now my friends have had to become involved, and when my friends have to become involved, they become hungry. Show them my dear general."

One of the soldiers snarled and a quickness that shocked Jean-Pierre, his clawed hand slammed into Jean-Pierre's chest crushing his chest. Jean-Pierre instantly knew almost all his ribs were broken and he was instantly gasping for air.

Like a child picking up a toy, the reptilian monster, hoisted Jean-Pierre into the air and tossed him like a rag doll toward another of the monsters. That one opened his mouth wide, and then snapped closed around Jean-Pierre's left arm removing it from his body with a snap.

Jean-Pierre screamed with pain as he hit the sidewalk with sickening wet thump.

"You see boy," Ak-fet said with acidly as he stooped next to the dying champion, his red eyes glowed like lava. "This will happen to each of you in turn. You and your brethren have no hope of escape, no hope of rescue. It is hopeless."

Jean-Pierre could feel the last vestiges of life drain from him onto the sidewalks of Paris. He tried to hold his right hand over the gaping wound where his left used to be as if to scoop the flowing blood back into his body. He tried to call forth the winds that were always his to command for help to save him somehow from this pain, but nothing came.

Then as he felt his last breaths crawl into his punctured and deflated lungs, a clear voice rang in his head. A voice he knew and remembered from the day he received his gifts.

"My dear Jean-Pierre," Shu's voice rang through his mind, "You have been so brave my champion. Please allow me one last chance to alleviate your pain. Let go my child. Allow me to direct the winds through your broken body one last time. Allow you to try to find peace and help."

Jean-Pierre smiled sadly as he did as he was requested. The winds began to howl through the alley, pushing the monsters and Ak-Fet away from the broken champion. His body rose into the air and began to spin in the air as a tornado formed around his battered body. When the winds dissipated, Jean-Pierre's body was gone.

---

Riordan had taken an Indian-style sitting position on the floor.

"I aint paying for no sit in." Mister Feigenbaum huffed from the corner.

"You have never paid me! Now how about a little less yapping, I'm trying to meditate!"

With that the mage closed his eyes. He reached out with his senses and attempted to connect with the cat-like spirits that infested the room. Images began to flash through his mind, normal cats being suck into the hospital by an older patient. The patient dying that same day, and the bond between them turning the cats that remained into bakeneko... no nekomata, definitely nekomata, he could see their forked tails clearly now.

Suddenly something interrupted his connection.

He could no longer feel his body, he found himself... his consciousness... floating in a white void. The void was strikingly familiar.

"Here kitty, kitty..." Riordan said nervously.

[colr=#99f3ff]"Riordan Burke."[/color]

Suddenly before him Riordan saw a handsome man in his mid-40s. He had wavy brown hair, and wore a faded gray t-shirt with a peace symbol on it over pajama bottoms with an ostrich feather pattern.

One of the most striking things about the man, was that even as he smiled and seemed perfectly calm he grappled with two toddlers. One, a girl, with long platinum blonde hair that flew about her head and the other a boy with darker skin, who was covered in dirt stains.

He held the girl above his head on his shoulders, while the boy clung to the leg of his pajamas.

"Protect it mage, honor him and protect it. Sand and storm, darkness... they come. Protect it and honor him."

Riordan found himself back in Mister Feigenbaum's room before he could reply.

"Well what do the cat monsters want?" The old man asked grumpily.

Riordan ignored him as he heard the sounds of the wind picking up outside. He ran out of he room over Mister Feigenbaum's protests. Looking out a window he saw debris floating violently in the sudden storm.

Riordan, despite common sense, found himself running into the gusts and bellows in the hospital courtyard, unsure of what he was looking for.

The gusts turned into a small tornado that softly deposited a bleeding broken man at Riordan's feet.

"H-he's coming." The man gasped for air as the blood poured from the wound in his arm.

Riordan dropped to the ground and lifted the man into his lap.

"Help! Doctors! Nurses! Somebody!" Riordan shouted even as he tried to remain calm.

Two nurses and an orderly rushed out and helped him get Jean Paul onto a gurney and get him inside. As they entered the building, even more medical staff converged on them, soon it was like being in a beehive and than it just suddenly stopped, almost like a reverse flash mob, everyone except for Jean-Paul and Riordan himself just stopped moving.

"You should not concern yourself Celtic." A voice came from behind him, "This has nothing to do with you."

The dying man reached out for Riordan. "Nous avons besoin de l'ombre et de lumière. Ra et Khons devez le savoir, le dévoreur est à venir." He rasped using his final breaths.

"No, no, you don't get to just appear out of thin air and die on me." Riordan snapped, his eyes going wild.

Without even really looking at her, Riordan grabbed Anyssa's hand and dragged her closer to Jean-Paul.

"You're still moving, so move, do you want to pump his chest or breathe into his mouth?" Riordan began pushing down on the man's chest, "I only saw this preformed once, my uncle passed out, our butler gave him CPR. He tried to teach us how to do it afterwards... why didn't I pay more attention?" Draoi mumbled mostly to himself.

Anyssa stayed exactly where she was, an evil smile played on her face. "Oh dear sweet little druid," she purred, "this death will only help me."

Riordan ignored her, and closed his eyes. He could feel that the foreign man's life leave him. He thought some words that were special to him, not exactly prayer but close enough. As he did so he felt a force linger, a power that remained.

Riordan turned towards Anyssa. His wild eyed look gone and now a cold seriousness overtook him.

"So. How helpful was that?" He stepped closer to her, "Wasn't that just super?" He said with a cold, empty laugh.

"Very." She smiled as she held up her hand and a high pressure blast of sand slammed into Riordan, lifting him off the ground and slamming him into a nearby wall.

"I told you that you should not become involved Celtic. This is an affair between gods and their champions." She knelt down and stroked the dead man's face.

"Soon my dear Shu, I will have a new host for you," she purred as she stroked Jean-Pierre's hair, "Someone that will continue my master's plan with us."

"No one talks like that... unless they're twirling a mustache or spying on Rocky and Bullwinkle."

Anyssa turned to see Riordan has gotten up and though covered with scrapes and gashes he stood straight, and there seemed to be a light glow about him, and on his head was the vision of a Celtic headdress with antlers, his staff also seemed to be alive again growing small branches and leaves.

"Impressive little druid," she smirked at Riordan, "your parlor tricks do not impress a daughter of Jannes and Jambres." Her fingers on her right hand moved quickly and then a sickly green jet of light shot out of her hand toward Riordan.

"Mirā, Mirā" Riordan said holding up his palm just as the light hit, there was a green glare as the beam reflected off his hand and shot back at the villainess.

With a wave of her hand, the the light dissipated. "Do you really think you can defeat me?" Her eyes sparkled with hatred. "This is not your fight little man. I suggest you walk away. This affair does not concern you. Leave now and I and my aide will not need to harm you."

At that, a tall lanky man with tattered clothes and unkept hair walked slowly out of the hospital and stood silently staring with his cold dead eyes staring into Riordan's.

"Little man, little druid, you really want to make sure everyone know how big and bad you are and yet, and yet, and yet you hide behind homeless Harry over here. Well I have friends too..." Riordan outstretched his hands and slowly raised them upwards, chanting as he did so.

"Spiritus et animas sede hic mihi succurras, et mala foras quaerere!"

Soon the sounds of a great wind picked up, but it wasn't wind, as they saw as images of people, flew from all corners of the room. Spirits flew in a whirlwind, some were crystal clear, other were blurry and shapeless.

They clawed at Anyssa and her aide, attacking them both physically and spiritually.

Using her magic, she pushed the spirits away from her. Her eyes narrowed on Riordan. "You play with forces you do not understand."

"Keep her from performing the ritual." A spectral voice whispered in Riordan's ear.

Anyssa turned to the man behind her, "Johnny, be a dear and eviscerate him." She looked back at Riordan, "Last chance to step away."

"Last chance to turn yourself in."

"And what exactly have I done that are against your laws?" She grinned sweetly as Johnny passed her walking toward Riordan. "You have no evidence of wrong doing, and you attack me on my property. I have only defended myself."

"Who said anything about evidence? My laws? I'm talking about right and wrong, what does law have to do with that?" Riordan shrugged.

Johnny lumbered toward Riordan. He swung at Riordan, but missed by inches destroying part of wall instead.

Riordan rummaged quickly through is bag, and retrieved simple silver chain necklace.

"Philotes' blessing on you my friend." Riordan said peacefully as he threw the chain around Johnny's head.

Soon the silent henchman felt a wave of affection for the mage surge through him, a feeling similar to what one would feel for a buddy they've known since childhood. His previous feelings of aggression and enmity seemed almost dream-like.

Johnny sighed and just laid down on the floor.

"Oh very clever." Anyssa snarled. "But I am still ahead of you, and I will not be denied." She performed a small incantation and another person was blinked into existence. He floated about a foot off the ground rotating slightly. He was unconscious as well. "I will extract the avatar from him and place it in a man that I control. And you," she threw a bolt of energy at Riordan, "will not stand in my way!"

Riordan snapped his fingers in the energy's general direction and it dissipated into sparkling firework designs around him.

The blast however was just a diversion. As soon as she released the magic bolt, she immediately began chanting.

The body of the deceased hero began to have a light blue glow around it. A slight breeze began to blow through the hospital.

"No, no, no, I am not letting a deity down tonight." Riordan said as he jolted towards Anyssa leapfrogging over a few frozen staffers to do so. As he moved towards her he pulled small satchel out of his bag.

"I only have a few Dechtire flies left, so I better get this in." He flipped a small black fly into Anyssa's open mouth. She swallowed out of surprise.

"Yes!"

Anyssa pushed him back with a wave of sand, her eyes angry and wide. She turned and began to chant again, but instead of words the only thing that came out was a bird. She paused and tried to speak again but there were just more birds.

The Champion of Set's eyes narrowed in anger. Her whole body started to take on the color of sand. Suddenly, her body exploded in a sandstorm of rage.

"Aw crap."

Riordan covered his face, and desperately tried to think of a way to handle this.

"What do I do?" Riordan whispered almost pathetically

Suddenly there was a tapping against the hospital windows. Riordan looked and saw three barn owls watching him. He locked eyes with one of them and for a moment, the pain the sand caused his skin and the fear he felt seemed to vanish.

Suddenly the image of the antler headdress was replaced by actual antlers growing from his forehead with a faded crescent moon scar resting between them, Pictish woad tattoos that seemed to writhe and move replaced his more modern ones, the glow about him increased and his staff took root in the floor and became a strange and winding tree.

Celtic chanting and music filled the room.

Riordan knew what he had to do, he reached out to Anyssa's mind which was still present in the room despite her body being dispersed.

"You will stop this." He said in a resounding voice as he allowed his thoughts and feelings to bleed into and dominate hers.

Anyssa's resolve wavered. Her hands drooped, and her mouth went slack. She staggered backwards. Her eyes rolled back in her head. She landed on her knees, before her her eyes snapped back toward Riordan. "You are more powerful than I thought Druid."

Riordan stepped towards her and raised his hand.

"Away with you." Riordan said as he reversed Anyssa's teleportation spell that brought her lackey to the hospital and he vanished.

"Just you and me now." Riordan smirked. Riordan waved his hands and the birds that had erupted from Anyssa's mouth circled towards her and multiplied as they did so. They than began to dive bomb her, pecking and clawing with an unnatural strength.

Anyssa snarled at Riordan, "I was ill prepared for this druid. I will not be that way the next time." Once again her body became like sand and started to swirl. It became a small sandstorm, then her and her lackey Johnny both disappeared.

The world returned to normal. Everyone was rushing around the dead body on the floor of the hospital.

Riordan caught his reflection off a metal piece of equipment and saw he had returned to normal, he casually brushed his hand across his forehead where the antlers had grown.

After a second he found himself staring at Jean-Paul as he was pronounced dead.

"Good journey."

Than he had an immense feeling, that the energy he had felt earlier was on the move. It left Jean-Paul's body and began to fly around the room.

"Thank you for your help Druid." A ghostly voice came from behind the Draoi.

Riordan turned towards the voice, and found himself looking at a beautiful young woman, a patient, who the energy slowly flowed into. He walked quickly towards her room; she was in her early twenties, her light blond hair pulled back in a ponytail.

"Excuse me, I don't want to be rude but... may I come in?"

The young woman seemed surprised but she smiled and nodded.

"You don't know me, I come here every once and awhile to help out the patients, and the staff." Riordan smiled as he walked inside, "I just wanted... to see how you are doing?" He said, not exactly lying.

"I'm okay, just an appendectomy, they say they do it all the time."

Riordan smiled again.

"Yes they do, simple pimple. Nothing to fear." The yet was unneeded, he wanted her to enjoy being normal for a little while longer.

"Oh I'm not afraid; my girlfriend's a lawyer, anything happens to me and this whole place will go down."

The two shared a laugh.

Riordan stayed awhile longer just talking and once he was satisfied he said his goodbyes. He was sure Shu would take care of her, at least he'd tell her what she needed to know.

As he left her room, he saw something that clearly no one else could see, the spirits he had summoned to attack Anyssa had made up for their loss by chasing the cat-demons down the hall and out of the hospital.

"Good on you guys. I bet an afterlife's sounding really good right now, eh? Well keep an eye on Shu's new friend there for me, at least till she can do it herself, and I'm sure it'll win you a few points with whoever runs those things." He laughed and made his way home.

---

A few days later and Gabi stood in front of a running Greyhound bus. She kissed her girlfriend, Wade, and then hoisted a rucksack onto her back. "I promise I will call as soon as I get settled in," she gave her a sad smile, "Wherever that will be."

"You better."

Gabrielle ran her hand down Wade's cheek. This wasn't an ending but a beginning.

[Capin]

"You want to what?"

"We may operate outside the law, but goddammit, we're not above it."

"You're not the one the cops and press are gonna blame this on."

"The cops aren't going to press charges. They have all the evidence they need to wrap this up."

"The court of law isn't what I'm talking about. The court of public opinion is."

"Since when do you care about... Ah. Right. It's not your rep you're worried about."

"And if it gets out that we - as a group - disposed of the body of someone who crossed our path -"

"Ashes don't wash up on shore."

"We're talking about crossing a line here -"

"That makes us no better than the people we're fighting against!"

"Screw the moral high ground! You've obviously made your decision. I've laid down my opinion. This comes back to bite me in the ass, it's on you two to clean it up. End of argument."

"No. No, it's not. Not by a long shot. I've known that we wouldn't always be on the same page with what we do. Seems now we're not even reading from the same goddamn book."

The sleek craft's hull smacked down with a particularly rough jolt that knocked Aaron from his reverie. His jaw ached, not from the rough waters he realized, but from how things had been left back home.

The boat they were in was built for speed and stealth, not much more than an over-sized torpedo, making it low on the comfort scale.

As the craft hit another hard wave, Faith's nose wrinkled in annoyance and she gave up even pretending to rest. "I'm thinking of complaining to the captain," she said with a half hearted attempt at humor. "The sun-deck's been closed the entire cruise. How am I supposed to work on my tan?"

She looked over at Aaron who seemed lost in his own thoughts. It wasn't a bad place to be, she supposed. Her own distracting memories had been put in a box with a secure lid, tied with a very tight bow, and shoved to the back corner of her mind where they couldn't get out until they were back home. Unfortunately in quiet moments like this, her mind kept wandering back to them.

"Are you worried?" she asked, finally settling on something to talk about.

Capin looked over. A thin grin of a smile graced his expression. "Cautiously optimistic."

Aaron looked at Faith and nodded his head in the general direction of the Dapper Detective. "What he said." The big man rolled his shoulders to work out some of the stiffness that had settled into them. "Not worried, just... thinking."

The redhead raised an eyebrow. Lately there was no such thing as 'just' thinking. She chewed on the inside of her lip as she weighed curiosity against being nosey. "About that?" She waved a hand toward the back of the boat. Their city was lost in the darkness behind them. "Or that?" She waved again toward the unseen shore before them.

"Little bit of both."

She looked down at her lap, absently picking at a callous that wasn't nearly as thick as it should be. She hadn't been practicing enough lately. "The Garrett stuff still?" She couldn't say why her mind went to that side of the 'both' first.

Wolf nodded. "On the whole, I know we did the best we could given the time frame and limited knowledge but... there are things that happened that don't sit well with me."

Faith bit back a bitter little laugh. "Join the club." But she felt that she couldn't leave it without saying something at least somewhat encouraging. "You guys did do your best though."

The Azure Avenger grunted, not trusting himself to reply with more than, "I suppose so."

"Suppose?"

"We lost a member of the family, and..." Wolf paused, unsure of how to continue. He heaved a sigh. "We came together in the face of another crisis, but... together certainly isn't how we ended up."

Her pale eyes flashed with a momentary fire before she managed to hold it back. "Why?" She had her own theories, of course. But she never talked with Aaron like this. She wanted to know what he thought and, more importantly... because she was Faith, what he felt.

Sapphire blue eyes creased with a weariness Faith could not remember ever seeing regarded the redhead for a moment. "You want the short answer or the long one?"

A familiar smirk pulled at her lips. "We're not going anywhere for a while." Then, because that was a little too much of a smart-ass response, she answered for real, "The long one, please."

"I was afraid you'd say that." Usually there was a trace of humor to be found in Aaron's voice. That didn't seem to be the case at the moment. "The short answer is: You. the long answer is... complicated. More complicated than I ever thought possible."

"Me?" 'Complicated' was her new least favorite word. And he'd throw her off the boat right now if he knew how much of an understatement that word really was. "But I wasn't even out there. I was locked away and..." Her voice trailed off and she gave a sigh. "And that's not at all what you meant."

She retreated a little, looking away and trying to hide the frown that she couldn't quite keep off her face. "Are you going to tell me?" If she didn't know everything, she couldn't fix it. Not that her attempts at fixing things had been entirely successful lately.

Again, Aaron took a moment to consider his words, to come up with an explanation that didn't single out any one individual. "You've been doing this long enough to realize that not everything is black and white. We operate in the shadows... the greys. Closer to the white, of course, but there are still things we do-"

"Like violate the borders of a friendly nation in a fancy stealth boat."

"To keep the folks that work in the shadows opposite us from hurting innocent people. It's about the greater good, no matter the cost to ourselves."

Faith pursed her lips to the side in annoyance. He was being a little too careful with his words. "So the complicated part comes when we have differences in our acceptable levels of grey."

"Something like that, yes."

"So if the short answer to my question was me. And the long one was complicated. The middle of the road one is... me as I relate to Eddy and his acceptable levels of grey."

"Something like that, yes."

She stopped short of glaring at him. "So what am I missing?"

"At the moment, very little." Another humorless smile. "You asked if I was worried. This is about as far as I've managed to work everything out in my head."

"That doesn't help me at all." Her teeth caught her bottom lip. He'd be even more worried if he knew everything. "How can I fix it if you haven't even figured out the whole problem?"

"It'll work itself out. I'm sure of that." His lips may have spoken the words, but his eyes said something else entirely. "Right now, we need to focus on what's in front of us. We can worry about what's back there," he jogged his head aft, "when we get back."

Capin throttled the boat a little faster, its sharp keel cutting through crests of white that seemed to glow as they rolled over the black waves. Hearing the engine humming softly behind them and feeling it reverberating gently through the flooring, he felt a small longing to crack blow the hatch.

It would almost be like riding the rails back in the city with Enry hanging from his back, letting the wind catch and carry him up. A cold breeze to clear the head.

The torpedo boat cut through another wave, spraying water all over the cabin's glass as washed overhead. That was enough for him to change his mind. He focused on their destination and the job at hand.

The Dapper Detective glanced to the side, catching sight of Sylph and Bluewolf in the dim red light.

Move forward.

"If all goes well, we'll be in and out of here and no one will be the wiser."

There was a chuckle from the back of the boat. Celsius was seated against the hull, her fingers curled around the modest seating. The white cloak around her shoulders made a stark contrast to the sleek black metal behind her. "Now who is jinxing us?"

"Still not worried." A white eye gave a little wink. "Whatever happens, we've got a hell of a force to contend with here." Capin looked back up ahead into the empty darkness that seemed to stretch forever. But that was just it. There was always a shore on the other side, you just had to get to it. "If I was them, I'd be more worried about us."

"Plan for the worst, hope for the best" Charlie said, looking up from reviewing the sketches he had made of the last time he had visited the vault they were targeting. "You never know what we might run into. Custer thought he had a Hell of a force, too."

"I think that was just how I put it back at your place."

Charlie smiled at the Dapper Detective. "I never argue with the wisdom of a kung-fu master." Shoving the papers into a folder, he stood and walked over to Faith.

"Don't worry. We'll be fine," he said as he wrapped an arm around his girlfriend.

"Of course we will." She leaned her head against him and gave a twisted little smile, silently chanting her new mantra... 'after the mission, after the mission'. "No one on this boat's worried."

Almost as she had said the words, Capin's eyes narrowed just a little. Subtle as it may have been it hadn't escaped Bluewolf's attention, and he stepped forward. "What?"

"Dunno," he replied, glancing down at the screen beside the boat's throttle. "Something on the radar. We had a blip and it was gone, just as quick as it was there."

More eyes moved in around the monitor, and again the blip reappeared and vanished, just at the edge of the reach of their scanner.

The dapper detective looked up. "Probably just some fisherman out for a late night pleasure cruise across an international border." He chuckled.

"Better to be safe than sorry," Wolf intoned. He pointed out a small, out of the way, cove on their GPS. "Let's beach there. It's not great, but it's defensible."

"That'll leave us a few clicks from our destination." He made a smooth adjustment to their course. If somebody was tailing them he didn't want to arouse any sort of suspicion. He did, however allow the boat to accelerate just a bit.

"It'll give us some space to assess and regroup if necessary."

"Nothing like a moonlit stroll on an empty beach." Faith shrugged, peering out into the darkness in an attempt to see their destination. "I've been sitting still for too long anyway. A little extra walking won't hurt us."

Ryu piloted the black ship into the cove. "Is that a dig about somebody's weight?" It's engine's hum dropped to an almost noiseless purr as it coasted along parallel to the shore. "That's not very lady-like. I'll have you know I earned every bite of that pint of ice cream I had for breakfast."

Their craft's keel crunched against the gravelly strand of the cove. Wolf's hand went to the hatch. "I have a feeling we'll all be due a pint of something before the evening's out," he said as he undogged the hatch, opening it to the crisp Canadian air.

Bluewolf stepped over the low deck rail and dropped up to his knees into the chilly waters of Georgian Bay. The hum of the boat's motor died and was quickly followed by the anchoring system securing the vessel to the shoal. Four successive splashes signaled the rest of the team had disembarked and was following him onshore.

"Couldn't ask for a better night." Ryu seemed unbothered by standing ankle deep in the shoreline. The cold lake water lapped slowly at his shins with that soothing purr. He tipped his head back and filled his lungs with the fresh lake air. "Smells cleaner over here, you know?"

"It's Canada." Charlie chuckled, but he was watching Bluewolf. Bluewolf in turn was looking out across the dark waters.

"Reminds me of home, but warmer. Much warmer." The water around her legs heated up a bit, taking the edge of the chilly sting for her companions. Katia had become more and more intuitive about comfortable temperature levels for other people, several lessons at the expense of her housemate.

"See anything?"

"We have some company. Two boats. Bound for shore by the looks of it." He tapped at the side of his visor and the blue lenses gave a soft glow. "Black ops stealth boats, both. Armed. Could carry maybe seven each."

Faith's back was to the water. She scanned the shore in front of them, looking inland as far as her goggles would let her see. It really didn't look that much different from the other side of the lake. "So are we all going to take that hike?" She glanced over her shoulder at Aaron. "Or would now be a good time to plan a little beach-party for our incoming friends?"

"Something like that, yes." Given their earlier conversation, the opening was too hard to resist. The look Faith shot him was all the more rewarding. He took a moment to consider their options. What he came up with was bound to be the less popular, but most effective for them to complete the mission.

"Celsius, I assume you can regulate the air temperature within a certain area to create something of a screen to counter IR tracking." The Russian woman nodded an affirmative and Wolf continued. "Okay, here's the plan: Roo, you and Heist go for the snatch and grab. Celsius will provide security over-watch. Sylph and I will handle our party crashers and act as rear guard."

The wet ground around her feet frosted up as Katia shifted from heating to a sharp chill matching the weather around them. "I hope your suits are warm, I don't have good aim." She gave an apologetic half-smile to the others.

The dapper detective cast a glance in Bluewolf's direction. He wasn't over fond of the idea of splitting up; as the saying went: Safety in numbers. But here he knew better. It was a tactically smart. Don't let them know what you're up to. He just hoped that they, whoever they were, didn't already.

"Let us know if we shouldn't come back this way."

The larger man nodded, a gesture which he returned.

He shifted his gaze up the shore to where Heist stood. "Alright," he said stepping up out of the water. The pebbles made a soft sound underfoot. "Things are gonna get chilly in this neck of the woods. Lets go be bad guys," he said with a soft tone of amusement, adding with a brief look over his shoulder into the dark water where their boat rocked gently, "and be quick about it."

Faith didn't argue. The new plan made sense. And, though she'd be reluctant to admit it out loud, Ryu was probably a better choice to watch Charlie's back than she would have been anyway. That didn't stop her from adding a quick, "Be careful."

"You too."

"We'll be fine here." A wry smile curled the corners of her lips as she gestured out to the water. "Remember, it's just a local fisherman, out for a pleasure cruise, at night, through eel infested waters. So don't worry about us."

Charlie smiled at his girlfriend. "As you wish," he said. Then the reformed rogue followed Ryu into the dark night.

"Alright ladies, we've a bit of work to do, and our guests will be arriving any moment now..."

---

The chill had left a fog in the air that crawled up the beach and over the land. Capin and Heist moved out of it through a wooded field. They avoided the roads, not wanting to risk attracting any attention and went quickly, skirting the few subdivisions and homes they came across.

They kept the waterfront to their left, traveling north with the soft rolling whisper of the waves still close enough to hear. The GPS was plenty to lead the way to the collector's grand estate and before too long the heavy trunks thinned and the two men stopped at the last bit of cover before an open field and tall stone wall.

Capin looked past the wall to the house beyond. It sat tall and wide under the canopy of the stars, spotted with windows, several glowing soft and yellow. "Nice place."

"You should see the basement," Charlie said with a half smile.

The dapper detective nodded. "Then let's go take the nickel tour."

The two men moved quickly and quietly towards the wall. Reaching the stone rampart, Heist slid through the rock, then popped back through and gave the "all clear" sign.

Capin leapt upwards and Enry caught the top of the wall, catapulting him to the other side where he landed beside the reformed rogue. The two men surveyed the exterior of the house and the manicured landscaping inside the wall. The moon hung over the vast and open yard like a spotlight. A glint of light from a glass lens mounted to the stone caught Capin's eye and Enry lashed out, severing the cable running to the security camera.

It wouldn't be long now before security came calling. The two men dashed silently for the house, taking the long stone steps to the patio in a single stride each before flattening against the sides of the thick double glass doors.

Capin's cowl had bled down over the rest of his face, leaving only his white eyes. Also gone now were all traces of that trademark tuxedo he wore. "You want to do this the old fashioned way?" He held up the corner of his cape which then fanned out into a fine array of jet black picks.

"Actually," Heist leveled his hand at the numbered panel beside him with a red blinking light, "I thought we might fast forward into the future. Time being of the essence and all."

His hand phased into panel. It sparked a few flashes before the green LED went dead and a small black cloud of smoke billowed up from its edges. He removed his hand and tried the handle. The door slid open in silence with Heist and Capin quickly slipping into the house.

They stopped inside, eyes adjusting to the darkness. They took in the spacious but spartan room where they stood for a moment.

"Alright," Capin said, turning back to his partner in this crime, "see you on the other side?"

Heist nodded. "I'll be waiting."

Charlie looked around, then slipped through the wall into the kitchen. With a smile he grabbed an apple from the stainless steel bowl on the granite countertop, then dropped through the floor to the safe below.

He landed on the floor of the safe, although vault might have been a more appropriate word. The walls of the twelve by twelve room were lined with shelves and display cases. In the center of the room was a series of large cases displaying larger or more significant items, and all the shelves and cases were filled with artifacts from ancient cultures and civilizations.

Upstairs Capin stood where Heist had left him and waited. The cape that hung from his back retracted into the black body suit as he stepped over to a pillar that came about chest high. With delicate fingers he picked up the oblong glass object on the stand.

It was heavy at the base, but rang hollow as he flicked his finger against the top. He tossed it up and down a few times, gauging its weight. The next time he lofted it up his hand fell to his side. The art hit the wooden floor and shattered into a thousand pieces with a loud smash that echoed throughout the house.

Almost immediately the voices came up in response with calls of "It came from the back!" and "En route!" The guards poured in from all three doors that opened into the room. Their attention was immediately drawn to the black silhouette that seemed to glow softly before the moonlight. Several pulled the boxy tasers from the holsters at their hips and trained them on his chest as the room filled with shouts of "Stay where you are!" and "Hands where I can see them!" and the always popular "FREEZE!"

Capin looked down at where the red dots all hovered around on his chest. "Oops..." He looked back up. "I guess you heard that, huh?"

"Turn around nice and slow, buddy, hands behind your head." One of the security guards took a few steps forward. "The police are already on their way."

"I guess I have less time than I thought." Capin took a step into the room, and the advancing guard pulled his trigger without hesitation.

The probes shot forward quicker than the normal eye could track. Both planted square on their target's chest and sparking with the volts that traveled between them and the cables. The white eyes narrowed just a little, but Capin remained in his place.

He looked down. "Sorry, lads," he said, grabbing the cables and tugging the probes free. "I guess I'm just used to a bit more juice." Capin's gaze rose and a smile creased across the mouth of that black mask.

[Celsius]

Tendrils of fog licked the water's edge as the first of eight neoprene-clad heads broke the surface. After a moment's scan of the immediate area, the squad waded to shore. In response to some silent command, half of the operators set up a hasty perimeter defense, while the squad leader double-checked their GPS coordinates.

After another silent command, the squad was on the move again, pushing inland, and scanning the surrounding area for any sign of their quarry. The fog made visual tracking difficult without the aid of the starlite goggles each team member wore. Of course, those aids were not without their own set of drawbacks.

Bluewolf double-clicked his communicator. It was their pre-arranged signal to "light it up." And light it up they did. A wall of intense white fire shot up from the gravelly sand. Many of the operatives broke the noise discipline rule, crying out in shock as the ignited white phosphorus shone like a thousand suns through their starlight goggles.

"Let's welcome our guests, ladies..."

Sylph didn't need to be told twice. The monster-thoughts she'd locked away for after the mission had begun to peer out of their closet in the wake of Charlie's goodbye. She didn't want to be someone who looked forward to hitting people... but she was.

She fell on her end of the slowly advancing squad, using their confusion and discomfort to minimize any wake she left behind as she moved invisibly through their midst. Bluewolf's assessment, or guesses, about the team seemed to be right on the nose. They didn't go down easy, but they did go down. Thankfully, Sylph was in no mood to go easy on anyone.

Clubbing a man across the head, she let him stagger and decided that it must be something in her nature, something inherently Kavanaugh-ish, that didn't allow her to do anything, fighting included, with anything less than her whole heart. She frowned as she drove her fist into a second man's face, breaking his goggles and presumably his nose as well.

Charlie was not an exception to her newfound rule, she decided as she drove her knee into her opponent's gut. Kicking him in the head to make sure he wasn't getting up anytime soon, Sylph moved on. She could go on loving Charlie--loving them both--incompletely, or she could make it right...

After this fight. Right now there were more people to hit.

Only a small fraction of Katia's attention was taken by the little reminder ringing in the back of her head that this was not an assassination. None of them should die. None of them should be severely maimed if she could avoid it. It was a vast improvement she had been working on to keep from being compromised while still adhering to the mores of her team.

A delicate figure in white who stood out in stark contrast to the dark surrounding, The Russian did not have to approach her opponents, they came to her. She could see the cocky grin on the first to reach her, no doubt misjudging her size and sex as a disadvantage. None that followed would do the same.

He only gave half his speed and strength in his initial lunge; a knife jabbed towards her middle. Mistake. Katia's hand flowed under his like water and snapped up quickly, trapping his arm and jerking it around to drive him to his knees as the knife fell. The momentum twirled her around and dislocated his shoulder before driving her elbow into the base of his skull, dropping his weight to the wet ground. Dislocated would heal.

She had only a breath before another took his chance, this one more careful of the woman in white. He had thought to surprise her but she had noticed him before she had even disarmed her first. This one was smaller, quicker, no knife but held himself light on the balls of his feet. Martial artist. Different tactic. She would lament later how easy this would be if she could boil him on the spot. Put a pin in it.

His hands were lightning bolts, quick and deadly. It was actual work to block and dodge his advances, waiting for a window of her own to open up. He turned to deliver a kick and Katia took this chance to bolt towards the waterline. She knew she had seconds before he would catch her. Judging her time from the sound of his feet, unable to keep silent in the squelching mud, she pivoted just as her boots splashed into the water's edge. Thank God there was a beach. His legs shifted, a tell. Water flung in an arc across the sand following the sweep intended to drop Kat. The ice dancer vaulted her body into the air, taking advantage of his low posture, and planted her knees on his lowered shoulders. The unexpected weight drove him face first into the even more surprising ice that had solidified around her feet. Concussion would heal. Facial lacerations would heal. Still on par.

A third, who had been waiting to take up the second's slack, should he leave it, stopped in his tracks at the sudden icing and scrambled back a few steps before turning to run the other direction. "No, kuritsa." She dipped her hand into the water, an ice gauntlet forming around it. Fear stumbled his steps, slowing him, making him easy to catch. She did not like cowardice in her dance partners, she so would not dance with this one. Her forearm leveled across her chest as she neared her prey. She ran her unfrozen fingers over the top of her fist, ice melting and refreezing into thick sharp spikes. "Spokoinoi nochi"

Blood and water melted off of Katia's hand as she stepped back to look over the unconscious body and make her final judgement. Broken jaw would... heal, mostly. Deep lacerations would scar, but heal. She nudged him on his side with her boot to keep him from choking on his own blood, a courtesy she never would have granted before. Giving that she left each partner in a state that was strictly against former policy was enough reassurance for her that she had performed successfully. She flicked the last remnants of the fight from her fingertips and went off to find the other two.

With Sylph and Celsius covering the flanks, Wolf drove for the two figures on point. He focused on the larger of the two, gauging the commando as the greater threat. A crushing blow to the side of the man's head and a leg-sweep put him down for the immediate future. Bluewolf spun on the smaller mercenary, catching them in the helmet with a spinning crescent kick and realizing in an instant how incorrect his target assessment had been.

He might as well have tried to kick down the Eiffel Tower. The helmet flew off, losing a shock of long dark hair from its tight bun, and that was the extent of the damage Bluewolf was able to inflict on his target. Damage to himself was something wholly different, however. A lightning bolt of pain shot up his leg as he fought to recover and maintain his balance.

The operative's eyes crinkled with a smile that was concealed by her balaclava. "Surprise," her voice had a smoky, Angie Harmon quality to it, "nice trick with the fog and the willie-pete, by the way."

Her gloved fist shot out with a speed that would have rivaled Ryu, and it was only due to his extensive training with the Dapper Detective that allowed him to get a block up in time. The impact on his forearm felt as though she'd hit him with a sledgehammer.

"What other tricks do you have to play, Mr. Matthews?" She ducked back as he attempted to press his attack closer. Even as he managed to land on his target, his knuckles phased right through her chin. "After all, you are a bit off your reservation." She dropped back into an offensive stance. A blade appeared from a sheath at the small of her back. "Why, pray tell? Inquiring minds want to know."

"Curiosity killed the cat," Wolf adjusted his posture to reduce the pressure on his injured leg. Recognition function flashed in the corner of his visor. "Not a fan of animal cruelty, Singularity, but in your case I may have to make an exception."

"Killed the cat?" She took a few steps back from him, toward the water's edge. "I'm not sure if that's the sort of expression you want to use, you know?" Her eyes subtly surveyed the scene. Her men were falling quickly. "After all, I'm here because there are curious people out there, curious about you. You don't want to give them any ideas..."

Bluewolf's jaw clenched. "Same old broken record, or if the reference is lost on you, scratched CD." He quipped. "You going to stand there and make veiled threats or are you going to try to put that pig-sticker of yours to use? I don't exactly have all night to trade barbs if your heart's not really in it."

"I'm not here to kill you, Bluewolf. Sure, that might make a lot of people happy. Might make a few people unhappy, myself included to be honest. You're a fascinating man to watch. Not hard on the eyes either." She raised the blade. "But I'll get over it if I need to."

"I'm flattered... I think." He gave her a quick feint that she didn't bite on, ducked inside a knife-slash and landed a series of knuckle-cracking body blows before retreating outside the range of her blade. "I don't suppose you get tired of all the hard body jokes," he grinned, flexing the fist that had taken more damage than it delivered.

"I prefer to be appreciated for my mind and my talents, sure."

The steel blade swung close and Bluewolf jerked to the side to avoid it tearing a line across his the wolf he wore only to have to artfully bend from the heavy kick that came from that direction. He snatched her wrist and twisted it. The knife fell into the sand.

She reacted quickly, his grip closing through her arm as she threw herself forward. Her shoulder hit him square in the chest like a wrecking ball. The impact sent him into the ground, skidding over the sand and gravel. She was over him with uncanny speed. Her boot touched against his throat. "But that doesn't mean I'm not grateful when people appreciate my body. That's not vanity." Her smile twisted up in that black weave across her face. The weight against his neck seemed to grow.

"Just tell me why you're here, and we can all go home." She leaned over him. "Maybe even be friends. I'd rather be friends."

"Tell you what..." Bluewolf choked the words out, his hands grasped around her boot in a vain attempt to lessen the growing pressure. "Maybe I'll come... visit you... in your jail cell..." While Singularity had been gloating, Bluewolf palmed a small device from his belt which he activated and shoved inside the upper cuff of her combat boot.

The pressure on Bluewolf's throat lessened instantly. Singularity's eyes went wide as the Azure Avenger locked her ankle and rolled. The joint crunched with the movement, sending the mercenary to her knees while Wolf sprang to his feet. "I hate having to hit a woman," he said as she tried to stand, "luckily for me, I don't have to worry about that tonight..."

The commando crumpled into a heap when Sylph's billy club connected with her temple. "Thanks for that, Red."

"I was starting to get a little worried there."

"Old age and treachery will overcome youth and something-something," Bluewolf rubbed at his throat. He looked around at their handiwork for a moment, then back to the two women. "Alright, let's get these grunts loaded back onto their boat."

---

The door fit seamlessly into the wood paneling of the wall. What it revealed in its place was a rather elegant room, spacious with the display of a high end gallery. Paintings adorned the walls. Cases were set throughout, exhibiting various and sundry trinkets. No, it was more than a gallery. It was a personal museum.

"Everything go alright upstairs?" Heist stood in the opening, arms folded across his chest with an apple core dangling from his fingers.

"They'll be a bit sore in the morning," Capin replied, stepping into the vault. "You're right. This is impressive."

Charlie smiled at the Dapper Detective. "It should be," he said as he looked around the vault. "I'm sure he spent a small fortune on this whole room, much less the contents of it."

The reformed rogue studied a several small paintings and pointed out two of them. "The Van Gogh was thought lost at the end of World War II. It should belong to the Vatican. The King Stefan painting is a Martin Kober and ought to be returned to the Polish government. And," Charlie said with a grin, motioning at a third piece of artwork hanging on the opposite wall, "That Mondrain is a fake."

"A fake, eh?" Roo chuckled a little, giving a nod to the duffle on the reformed thief's shoulder. "Well, at least it's not gonna be alone" He walked through the room, half admiring the works. "Did you find our little Horn of Destruction?"

Nodding, Charlie walked over to what appeared to be a wall of heavy duty safes. Reaching through one of the doors, he started to pull his arms back, then stopped.

"It won't... I can't pull it through the safe." He frowned. "Gonna have to do this old-school."

Heist looked at the door, studying it for a moment, then began to turn the dial. "It's got several false contact points, but I can see the the cams. There's five, so it might take a minute." He continued to work on the safe for several seconds more, then smiled as he swung the door open.

Carefully the thief removed the ornately carved Viking drinking horn. "Take this thing, quick." he said as he gingerly handed the Ragnorak Horn to Ryu.

Capin took it in both hands with tender care. The black gloves that covered his fingers bled all over the thing until it was encased completely. His face grimaced a little."It's cold."

"Is it?" Heist's brow knit with concern. It hadn't felt cold to him at all, only solid.

It wasn't simply cold. The carved horn seemed to bite right into him, chilling the blood as it flowed through his very veins. Everything felt stiff. What was more unsettling was that how as Enry moved the thing safely under his coat they could almost feel the reverberation of movement, not quite as if the thing inside were curling around in its trappings but that it was wanting to.

Ryu Kokezaru swallowed hard, his shoulders shuddering.

"Capin?" Heist put a hand on his shoulder. "Ryu?"

He looked up. The feeling seemed to pass, but even as it had faded, the sting still rattled around inside him. Capin drew the cape in. Together they dulled the cold echo between them. The ever present sound in his head urged them on home, though neither of them could hide the haunting feeling.

"We're good." Capin put on a smile.

He fished the silver com from his coat, wiping away the image of the monkey with a stroke of the thumb. Aaron's message flashed across the screen giving them the green light to return. "And we're clear to go back. That's good. I really wasn't looking forward to swimming back."

Charlie nodded. He had just placed the fake horn in the safe and was in the process of scrambling the dial and resetting it to the number it had been on before he cracked it. Quickly he moved back to the paintings and reached behind them, carefully disarming the alarms, then lifted each from the wall, sliding them in the waterproof bag that had previously held the fake drinking horn.

"I'm good here." the thief said with a smile. "Let's hit it."

Capin and Heist moved quickly, back up through the house. They didn't even pause at the bodies strewn about the main floor. They simply darted back through the still open glass doors and across the grounds. The pair traveled swiftly but cautiously, both of them thinking about what they were carrying with every single step.

Even with their caution, though, the return trip seemed shorter, and it wasn't too long before they were stepping back onto that gravel beach. They stopped at the edge and surveyed the scene. Their ride still sat anchored to the shore where it had been when they left, though beside it two sleek black ships sat moored together in a large, jagged iceberg.

"So it wasn't a warm welcoming, I take it?"

Sylph flashed an impish grin, torn between relief at seeing them unharmed and, apparently, successful and the impending guilt she was sure would be creeping up on her at any moment now. "Are you kidding? There was hugging. And singing. And... other fun stuff. In fact, our guests felt so much love here on the beach that they had to take a little nap... on ice."

"I'll give you the full play-by-play on the trip home," Wolf said, "after we set our party favors adrift and give the Canuck equivalent of Strat a call for a pickup."

[Bluewolf]

The return trip had been surprisingly quiet, as if something weighed heavily on them all. Faith and Charlie sat in the back, the others watching Garrison approach from the bow Bluewolf steering them home.

When the away team had stowed the boat back in its hidden cove beneath Brownstone Memorial they all parted company. Celcius had put up somewhat of a disagreement when Ryu told her he would meet her back home, but Sylph simply nodded solemnly and asked Charlie if they could get some coffee and maybe go for a walk.

As he and Aaron walked through it, Ryu remarked that the doghouse had never seemed so empty.

Bluewolf regarded his profile. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

"More of the feeling then the physical emptiness, you know?" he replied.

His partner nodded.

"And here we are," They stood in front of the thick midanium alloy doors. "Secreting things away." He opened his visor for the retinal scanner and entered the code. The doors opened to an alcove whose depths were lost to shadow.

Aaron waved Ryu through. "After you."

As they they stepped into the vault the lights flickered on, leaving not a trace of the shadows . The walls were lined with shelves that stretched up to the ceiling, but so far only a scant few items sat there. The general emptiness made the room seem so much larger than it was. Even so, its open shelves instilled a sense of investment in their future.

The two men walked to the furthest corner and stopped.

"I need a door." Aaron's voice echoed around the mostly empty room and was quickly followed by a beep.

A pair of panels slid open on the walls beside each of them, revealing a simple black rectangle. Aaron tugged his glove off and looked over. Ryu's glove bled back up into the cuff of his shirt. They each placed a hand on their respective panels.

"Verified" said a pleasantly mechanical voice. The corner parted open, revealing a flat black void.

"Alright," Aaron looked down and wiped the single drop of blood that welled up from the tiny hole in his pinky, then back at Ryu, "I'll wait right here, thanks."

Ryu gave a small chuckle, nodding. In truth, it would have been difficult and most unpleasant for Aaron to pass through the veil. While the doorway was revealed by their palmprint and DNA scan, crossing over required a unique presence that only flowed through Capin's body. Without Enry the veil would deposit you on the coldest, deepest crater on the dark side of the moon. In theory, anyway. None of them had been curious enough to test Doc Midas's claim.

Capin stood straight with a steeling deep breath. The black cowl crawled down over his face completely, leaving him cast entirely in its midnight black. He stepped through the veil. One step and such a strange, harrowing sensation that upon reaching the other side, he stumbled and fought the urge to retch.

"Woof..." He said to himself, holding the back of his hand to his forehead and catching the breath stolen from him. "Still awful."

He used the wall to steady himself and look around. This room of trophy stands was completely empty save for one bearing a simple clay pot encased in glass. He reached under his cape and withdrew the carved horn that Enry deposited into his palm. He carried it over to the next empty stand and carefully set it in place.

---

After waiting only moments for Ryu's return, the two men made their way back through the doghouse to the main conference room. Aaron pulled the wolf-emblazoned chair from beneath the table, settled into it, and propped his boots upon the table. Leaning back, he stretched tucking his hands behind his head.

Roo was right. Their base of operations, home away from home, did feel empty. He just wasn't sure what to do about it. He glanced over at Ryu, feeling - not for the first time lately - a sense of weariness rolling off his friend. If he were to be honest with himself, he'd have to admit to feeling a bit fatigued as well. "So... 'for the greater good of the team' doesn't exactly settle well now that the deed is done."

Ryu sat in his chair, his chin propped against his fist. "It's said, 'If your strength is small, do not carry a heavy burden'." He didn't look over. "It's also said, 'Over a long distance, you learn about the strength of your horse; over a long period of time, you get to know what's in a person's heart.'"

"Do you remember that first sit down we all had together? You and me and Sparky and Viv eating Chinese and agreeing to pull together." His eyes rose. "I think about that now and then. I miss that." Roo shook his head. "Things seemed so much simpler then. We were just trying to keep a city from falling apart."

He sat up, sighing slightly. The breath felt heavy in his chest. "The thing I can't let go of that things weren't simple then either. We just didn't know better."

"No, we really had no idea what we were really getting ourselves into." Aaron slipped his visor off and tossed it on the table, letting his cowl fall down around his neck. "It's an evolution... or an escalation to be more exact. Problem is, you can only bust up so much organized crime, drug dealing, and the like without becoming a blip on the radar of the next level up."

"Really can't." Roo shook his head. "And once you've looked behind the curtain..."

"Exactly. I think we've done well enough so far... there's not much I can look back on and think to change. You?"

"No," he smiled a bit. "Even if I had them, life's too short for regrets anyway."

Capin pushed his chair back from the table. "I'm hungry. You hungry? I'm hungry." He stood. "What say you call Kaye and we grab some omelettes. You drive, I'll buy. We can hit that one joint on Mason."

"Can't think of a better way to celebrate a successful operation."

[Capin]

"Man, I am excited," Corin bounced on the balls of his feet like a boxer, throwing a few punches in the air. "So which styles will we work on? Crane? Monkey? Anything but hamster." Corin laughed, "What am I saying? This is you - drunken master." He jabbed Ryu playfully in the shoulder.

Ryu looked at Corin with a deadpan expression save for the slight arch of his brow. "There is no hamster style."

"Saw it in a movie once." Corin laughed and shrugged.

The other man cocked his head to the side and regarded the doctor for a moment. "I'm not sure you're ready for any style yet, Doc." His familiar smile finally returned, "But when we're done, I promise to get you proper drunk."

He turned and stepped back into the center of the room, taking his jacket off and tossing it aside. His white button down darkened and shook out into a loose, black t shirt. "Get comfy," he said, facing Corin again. His legs stepped apart, his stance defensive and simple. He raised hais palm and beckoned the doctor forward. "And come hit me. Gimmie your best shot."

Corin's eyebrows crinkled inward. He gave a slight smile as his shoulders squared. His right hand cocked back, and then threw it forward toward Capin. The man didn't move. The punch came and landed with every knuckle across his cheek. His head snapped to the side with the force and he took a stumble back.

"Alright," Roo said, rubbing his cheek and straightening from blow. His eye winced a little. "Good power. How'd that feel?"

"Now that you mention it," Corin shook his hand, "that kinda hurt. Never noticed how much padding my gloves have."

The dojo master laughed. "You'll get used to it." He opend his jaw as if he were yawning and moved his jaw side to side. "And if you're doing it right it'll hurt the other guy more."

Roo stepped back up to Corin almost casually. "My turn." With barley those two words for warning he swung that right hook hard and fast like a perfect mirror of the previous hit.

Corin's reflexes acted slightly quicker then his brain consciously knew the hit was coming. He backpedalled as his head reared back. He felt the wind of the swing blow past his nose, but nearly lost his balance in the effort. The fist stopped cold just where his face had been. His fingers stretched forward as head steadied and snagged his nose.

"Honk."

"Rilly." Corin said in that nasal tone.

"You're quicker than you think." He let go. "Your raw instincts are good. Now," once again he stepped back into that position, arm tucked neatly behind him the other raised up with his thumb stuck between his index and middle fingers. "I've got your nose. If you can't get it back you may never smell that sweet sandalwood smell of the Good Doctor Jamie. Come get it from me..." Roo smirked just a little. "If you can."

Corin's head cocked to one side as his eyebrows furrowed, "Dude, seriously?"

Roo nodded with no emotion on his face. He gave the doctor's nose a little waggle.

Corin sighed.

The Starlight Sleuth slid into what he felt was the best fighting stance he knew, and charged Ryu. He swung his fists left and right, one after the other, and his opponent swatted them each away with his forearm or the back of his hand.

Quickly realizing the futility in such a direct assault, Corin tried switching it up. He doubled his lefts over his rights. He zigged a little more and changed up his zags. In return, Ryu started to step around him, ducking back or down from the occasional swing instead of batting it away.

Every fighter was unique, no matter how or where or if they trained. The body in motion was like a fingerprint. It was the silent sound of your voice. Happy, sad, angry, and frustrated - every emotion could be telegraphed if you knew how to see them. Secrets held hidden were told in how you moved.

The fight lasted five full minutes. In that time Ryu learned all he needed to know about Corin Graves.

"Alright, alright." Capin stopped the fist with the back of his forearm and skipped back. "Not too shabby,"

Corin looked at him. A little winded from the nonstop assault, Corin he caught his breath. "Not too shabby? I didn't land a single hit..."

"No, but that didn't stop you either." He held out Corin's nose. "Here."

Corin glared at Ryu for a moment, and then he slapped Ryu's hand and then tapped his own nose. "So now what, Master Splinter?"

"Now we'll see about teaching you to actually fight."

Corin laughed. "I get the why of this, I guess," he bent down and grabbed a bottle of water, "but when I can do this," he snapped his fingers and everything went dark. When he snapped again, he was behind Roo. "I don't need to be Bruce Lee."

"Is that so?" Roo laughed. "Okay. Okay," he took his tee shirt off. He rolled it around into a band and tied it around his eyes. "Prove it."

Corin smirked and waived his hand in front of Ryu's face. When he didn't react, Corin decided to cheat to make sure Ryu wasn't.

Within a blink of his eye, the room was once again plunged into darkness.

Corin watched Ryu for any signs of movement or reaction to the sudden darkness, and when there was none he threw a punch.

To the doctor's shock, the Dapper Detective blocked it with a graceful slide of his wrist. Believing it had to be dumb luck, Corin swung two more times with the same results.

Corin backed away from Ryu slightly frustrated. Finally he decided if he was going to cheat, he would go all the way. He pulled himself into the shadows and stepped out again behind Ryu and swung again. This time Roo only moved his head nimbly dodging each incoming fist, until after three more swings, he grabbed Corin by the wrist and effortlessly flipped him over his shoulder to the floor.

"Remember," Roo looked down at the Starlight Sleuth, "the most important lesson I can teach you is, it's one thing to have the abilities we do and another to rely on them." He extended Corin his hand. "You never know when you won't have them. "

"Well that was embarrassing," Corin took the offered hand and stood up, "how in the hell did you do that. What are you, a Jedi?"

"Only a little. The force is strong." He unraveled the shirt and slipped it back on. "I learned how you fight. I can hear you move. It's all skill you learn."

"So, I'll be able to fight blind when we're done?" He raised up a hand to stop the coming reply. "Kidding. Kidding."

"Fighting is about the union of your mind, body, and spirit." Ryu indicated the place beside him, and Corin stepped over. "We bring them together." He closed his eyes and took the Lilly in the Falling Wind position. His arms moved in a slow, almost imperceptible sway. "And when we do, we realize how they fill the gaps of one another to make us whole."

Corin closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He stood next to Ryu for what felt like an eternity. Finally he squinted his eyes opened and looked up at the wall and saw the clock had only moved fifteen seconds. He gave a heavy sigh and then shut his eyes again.

"The first step in that lesson," Ryu said, his eyes still closed, "is to calm yourself. You cannot force balance anymore than the stone cannot force the tide that polishes it. The water comes and goes, all you have to do is let it."

Corin took in a deep breath and let it out slow. He had heard a lot of the same things in his stint as a surgical intern. With his eyes closed he focused on his objective, to bring balance to himself. He could feel the calm wash over him as he breathed in and out.

The first minute still felt like ten, and the first ten minutes felt more like an hour. Slowly, though, Corin seemed to settle into that calmness. His thoughts drifted at will and he simply let them go as they pleased. The remaining hour came, went, and repeated itself again and again. He had been standing, motionless for hours, but when he was told to open his eyes Corin Graves felt didn't feel sore or tired. He felt refreshed. Invigorated.

"Wow," Corin breathed, "that was..."

"The first lesson," Ryu smiled. "Step one in your journey to not taking arrows and bullets and punches to the face."

Corin stretched his arms above his head. "If every lesson feels this good..."

"Oh..." Ryu gave a thin smile. "Not even close. Confucius say, "No pain, no gain." Well, somebody said it." He cracked his knuckles. "That's what pain management is for."

The Starlight Sleuth chuckled. "I'm a doctor. I know all about pain management."

"I won't discount the miracles of modern pharmaceutical science, but that's not what I meant." He stepped in front of Corin. "Go into every fight expecting to be hit, in fact you can learn a lot by letting your opponent hit you. Know how to take that medicine. But we're getting ahead of ourselves."

"Mid-Night Man, With Kung-Fu Grip time." Ryu posed Corin like a mannequin. Nudging his knees bent just a little, he positioning his weight back on the right foot. His fist tucked upright at his side. "First step in tangling with an opponent is knowing how they'll move." Corin's shoulders were set to a slant and his left arm extended slightly across him, fist down. "The limbs lie easily. The eyes often tell you much, but they can be misleading especially if your opponent is highly skilled." He tapped Corin on the chest before stepping back in front of him. "Start by focusing on the torso, learn how the trunk moves the body and you'll know where your opponent is going."

"Believe it or not," the Dapper Detective took a mirrored stance of Corin. "This stance is called Blackthorn Under Moonlight. It suit's your natural instincts."

"Cool." He looked down at the placement of his body. "Okay, now what?"

"Watch me," Ryu said as he started bobbing lightly on his feet. "Learn my movement, and try not to get hit."

Corin nodded, and started bobbing like Capin.

The two danced around each other. Corin watched carefully how Ryu moved trying to anticipate when he would strike

It didn't work.

With the quickness of a cobra, Ryu moved to the side. His right hand flew from its defensive stance and caught Corin in the face just below his right eye. The blow sent Corin sprawling to the ground.

Corin swore as he pulled himself back to his feet. "That hurt."

"Confucius said..." Ryu started, but was cut off by Corin.

"Yeah, yeah." He waived his hand as he slid back into the stance he was taught, "No pain, no gain."

"Then don't get hit." Ryu smirked as he started to bob again in front of Corin.

This time, Corin took the initiative and threw the first punch. Capin deftly sidestepped and landed a blow to Corin's ribs that caused him to sound like a ruptured tire. He dropped to one knee sucking in air.

"That sucked," he wheezed as his lungs screamed for air, "hard."

Ryu gave him a hand up. "Anything broken?" he asked, despite knowing the answer.

"No," the Starlight Sleuth said as he caught his breath, "I'm beginning to feel like I'm not gonna get this."

"Don't get frustrated. You'll get it," Roo ran his hand through his hair, "you don't have to be a master."[capin] Ryu gave corin a smile. [capin]"But a well tended tree, however, can bear great fruit."

"Get that off a fortune cookie?" Corin smirked.

"Please," Roo laughed, "I've worked hard to be my own fortune cookie." He took another pull from his bottle of water. "Come on," he threw a towel around his shoulders, "it's time for lesson the second."

"Which is?" Corin said as he wiped his own face with a towel.

"Relieve the pain of practice with not as modern pharmaceutical science." Ryu threw his arm around Corin. "Commonly called getting a drink."

"I like lesson number two." Corin grinned.

[The Mid-Night Man]

"There." Corin pointed down to the warehouse gate. The Cadillac was parked inside the locked confines, He and Capin had been following it halfway across town on a lead that they hoped would end at a chopshop that was rumored to have been set up in the Blue Bullet territory.

The Bullets had been poaching in Road Digger territory. That would lead to blood on the streets.

The caddy's wheelman and passenger were leaning back on its hood. A trio wearing the Bullets' colors emerged from from the building.

"Alright," Capin was perched like raptor on the fire escape, "gimme those bracelets."

Corin looked over, his eyes hidden in the darkness under the fedora's brim. "What?"

"You're gonna go teach those guys a lesson about not stealing things like cars." He beckoned with a grabbing motion. "First the bracelets, though: give em over."

Corin whimpered slightly as he looked at Roo. "Really?"

"Really." The Dapper Detective nodded. He pointed at Mid-Night's chest. "And the spare dart gun in your coat."

Corin took a look back and sighed. He pulled off the gauntlets and then the dart gun and handed them over. "At least I have my powers." Corin said with a smile.

"About that." Capin said.

"You're joking." Corin said darkly.

"I may end up laughing, but no," Capin shook his head, "it's a nice way to gauge your progress.

"Remind me to kill you later." Corin grumbled as he popped his neck.

Capin tapped his fingertip against his tongue and pretended to write something on his palm. "Kill... later..." He looked up. "Noted." Capin smirked as he made a shooing motion toward the Bullets.

Corin inhaled a deep breath and let it out slow. "Nice car, boys." He called out across the alley as he leaped down from the fire escape perch he and Capin had been watching from. He landed lightly in front of the Bullets and stood. "I know a nice grandma that is missing her caddy right now; you boys wouldn't know any thing about that would you?"

"And just who the hell are you?" One of the bullets turned and pointed a gun at the Mid-Night Man.

"Just a concerned citizen." Corin held up his hands as he kept walking toward the gang. "Granny Josephine lost her car, and I'm just trying to help her get it back. To be fair," he walked closer to the car thieves, "she's more concerned about her knitting in the trunk. So if you would let me just get that I'll be out of your hair."

There was a loud report of a gun, and a crack of cement as it shattered at his feet.

"Shut the #@^% up man," the man, clearly this group's leader, growled, "you need to turn around and go back to the circus you came from."

"Wow, really? Circus?" The Mid-Night Man looked down at his costume. "Does this really look like circus attire? I mean yeah there's a cape, but I was going for more of the pulp hero of the forties look."

"You're gonna be looking like a dead man if you don't back up and walk away!" He moved the gun to point at Corin's chest.

"Just waste the freak." Another yelled out.

"Normally," the Starlight Sleuth kept walking toward them, "all you all would have heard from me was maybe a little bit of laughing and the paff of my knock out darts as they hit you in the neck. However someone," he said louder, "thought it would be good for me to take you out without my darts and powers." As he said this he was almost toe to toe with the lead gangster.

The anger and courage in the Blue Bullets leader's face faltered slightly. He had never been challenged like this before. The gun pointed at Corin's chest shook slightly.

The corner of Corin's mouth rose even higher. Corin slapped the gun to the side, and shot the heel of the palm of his left hand into the Bullet's throat, causing him to splutter for air and drop to his knees.

This sent the other Bullets into a frenzy of rage and fear.

Corin's smile only broadened. His weeks of working with Ryu were bearing definite fruit, besides all the bruises. He was used to fighting the Dapper Detective who was arguably one of the best fighters in the world, and these Bullets were far from that.

Where Ryu was like lightning when he moved, so fast that Corin could barely react, it was like these bullets were moving through hardening cement.

One on the far side of Corin leveled his gun to fire, and the Starlight Sleuth rolled over the hood of the car and out of the way. As he did, he whipped his foot out in front of him and caught the nearest bullet in the face, sending him spiraling to the concrete. Landing in a crouch on the opposite side of the car, he grabbed the leg of the closest Bullet and pulled forward, knocking his target off balance and sending him too crashing to the ground. A punch to the head knocked him further into the concrete, and he stayed down.

The Mid-Night Man vaulted back up to his feet and whirled to face his next opponent.

Thinking he had the drop on the vigilante, the Bullet raised his knee up into Corin's ribs, momentarily knocking the wind out of him.

"Not so smug now are ya freak?" The Bullet leveled a gun at the Mid-Night Man's head.

"Now that you mention," with reflexes much quicker due to his new training Corin struck landing a blow to the Bullet's groin that actually lifted him off his feet and then down to the ground in a heap.

The Starlight Sleuth stood and surveyed the area. The last Bullet standing had decided that discretion was the better part of valor and had run into the garage and was closing the door.

With a shrug of his shoulder, Corin slipped down into the shadow of the car and reappeared behind the last hood.

"Boo. He hissed into the Bullet's ear before he slammed his head into the garage door and then pushed the button for it to open again.

"Well?" Corin said looking up at Ryu.

The Dapper Detective dropped into the fenced area, cape opening out behind him. He rolled one of the Blue Bullets over onto his belly with nudge of his toe. "You cheated," he replied nonchalantly as he surveyed the scene.

"Cheat-" Mid-Night Man shoved the garage door back up all the way and stormed over. "You mean with the runner? That's not fair."

"Did you use your powers?" Corin stopped and crossed his arms. "See? Cheated. But other than that, I'd say you taught them admirably."

"How would you have gotten the runner?"

"By not letting him run." He crouched down and fished something out of the dirt. In the background his partner groaned. "Barring that, hit him with a rock." He tossed a stone up and caught it in his palm, smiling at Corin.

"Wouldn't that be cheating too?" Corin cocked his head to the side. "Using a rock would be the same as using my darts, or my powers," he smirked, "therefore, cheating." He crossed his arms in victory.

"Did you bring the rock? Can you manipulate the rock like you can the darkness?" Capin shook his head. "Adaptability and improvisation are good tools to have in your bag of tricks. When Blindside shorts out the mechanics in your gauntlets, how are you going shoot him? Throwing a rock is taking advantage of your environment when you are at a disadvantage."

"Still think its cheating," Corin grumbled, "but I concede your point. Next time I'll follow your rules, sensei." He gave Capin a deep bow.

The Dapper Detective chuckled. "You're not the most insolent student I've known, Corin-san." He returned a slightly more shallow bow. "Let's drop a dime on these boys and beat feet." He fished his com out of his pocket and started to dial. "I'm gonna take another round through town if you're interested. Of course, you've more than earned a little time with that lovely lady of yours."

"Naw," Corin said with a sigh, "she's at the hospital tonight. You're stuck with me." Corin threw his arm around Roo.

Capin finished his conversation with the 9-1-1 dispatcher. He slipped the com back into his coat and gave Mid-Night Man a smile. "A night on the town it is. Come on," he lead the way back toward the gate, "I don't know about you, but I could really go for a hot dog."

[Faith]

"You know," Roo sat on the ledge of the building with his feet dangling off, "for a guy who has 'midnight' in his name, you'd think he'd have no problem showing up at midnight." He looked back over his shoulder to the young woman who stood behind him and gave her a wry smirk. "Maybe we should start calling him "After-Night Man" or "Night-Time Man"."

He paused a moment. "Which is the anniversary where Daylight is supposed to get him a watch?"

"Don't they have to be married to do those kinds of things? Maybe we should work on getting on him to pop the question first." The redhead stopped chewing on her lower lip long enough to flash him a quick smile.

"Yeeeah, I dunno." His was a light chuckle. "I think I'm more inclined to a do a rain dance and cut the power to Irongate." He jabbed a thumb in the direction across the water and the island prison that sat waiting once more.

"Wimp." Sylph gave in and decided to come sit beside him, swinging her feet back and forth as she waited with growing impatience. She let her breath out in a long sigh then leaned against his shoulder. "Shouldn't I be past being nervous about going in here by now?"

"Depends," the dapper detective replied with amusement. "Is it the sneaking into a building confining pretty much only the angriest, creepiest, nastiest that the midwest has managed to detain? Or is it spending quality one on one time with one of them as their own personal Jiminy Cricket?"

A soft chuckle escaped her lips. "Definitely the cricket thing. I still worry that the wrong word or tone will get me squashed."

He looked down. She held an envelope in her lap, the latest missive that had asked to see her. "I'd love to tell you that people don't write letters to people they're inclined to squash, but strictly speaking that's not true. In so many cases it's the complete opposite. You know how obsessives get."

She reached over and jabbed him hard in his ribs. "You're really not helping."

Roo smirked, "Ginger I've told you a thousand times. If he was going to kill you, he'd have done it that night in the yard." He looked over, only able to see her hair with the way she positioned her head on his shoulder. "You've done right by him and against all odds helped him see some light."

"I put him in prison." He looked back and stared at Irongate. The glow of its lights reflected in the distant, choppy waters that separated it from the mainland of the city. "You helped him find a path to reform."

She blew a lock of hair away from her face then watched as it settled across her mask. "I'm not worried about killing-smashing." That worry had faded with each visit, much like the objections voiced by various concerned parties. "Now I just don't want to say the wrong thing."

Tilting her head to look up at her friend, Faith gave a tentative little smile. "I really want him to stay on that path. You know?"

Roo looked down. In all his experience tangling with the behemoth Steamroller, nothing had ever indicated a moment of remorse or compassion. He radiated destruction. Even so, this young woman had managed to see past all that rage and anger and draw out his humanity. Faith had helped him find a moral compass. And it would seem he'd been following it ever since.

"If he changes for the worse because of something you say or how you say it?" He shook his head, "Then he wasn't on the path at all. You brought a stubborn mule to water, he'll drink or he won't. If he doesn't, it's not because of you."

Hugging her arms across her chest as she stared out into the night, she knew she couldn't argue with him. She didn't even want to. But, because he was Ryu, he probably understood why this was so important to her... even if she couldn't explain. "I know," she told him finally. "But I'm still going to worry a little bit."

"Yep."

"Someone call a doctor?" Corin's voice echoed as he stepped out of the shadows. "So what exactly are we doing in the armpit of Garrison, in the middle of the night?" He asked as his eyes scanned the prison in front of him.

"Armpit?" Capin looked over. "I always thought the armpit was down river."

"Well, I could have gone with a body part further south," Corin smirked, "but there's a lady present."

"Oh please, don't let me stop you. Go ahead and name body parts," the redhead grinned at him.

"Gluteus Maximus," Corin drawled with a thick pseudo sophisticated accent. "Doctored!"

Capin looked over to the redhead. "Does he mean arse? I think he means arse."

Faith wrinkled her nose and did her best to look properly offended. "We are not sitting in the butt of the city." She hopped to her feet, brushing the dust off her legs as she gave another wicked smile. "No wonder Daylight doesn't buy you expensive presents. You have a naughty mind."

Corin stuck his tongue out at Faith. "So kids, what are we doing here tonight?"

"My big friend has requested the honor of my presence. So I need to get in." She pointed across the water to the prison to cover the somewhat awkward expression that crossed her face. "Charlie used to help me with it, but... you know..." The former thief had left town after their 'talk', a move Faith truly hoped was temporary. And though she felt that she owed about a million explanations, her friends had been polite enough not to ask. So far.

Corin nodded. "Yeah. So do we know what cell the big man is in? It'll make it a lot easier for me to get us there."

Capin got to his feet. He pulled his com from an inside pocket of his jacket and activated it with the press of his thumb on its screen. The monkey mon that emblazoned its screen fell away revealing the schematics of the prison. "He's in here." He gave the screen at tap, zooming in through the ceiling to a view of the second level. "This one."

"Good behavior's even gotten him a window." He gave a subtle look in the direction of the redhead. "But it's lights out. That should give you plenty of space to through."

Faith tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and nodded her agreement. "We decided before our first visit that Capin won't come in with me. My friend's still not his biggest fan. But you're welcome to stay and hang out in the shadows." She turned the letter over in her hands before holding it out to Corin. "As you can see, we don't exactly know why he wants to see me."

"Alright, Corin nodded, "and you are sure you can trust this big bastard?"

"As someone rather smart just pointed out, if he was going to kill me he would have done it already," she answered with a wink. "He's never given me a reason not to trust him."

Capin took a step back from the edge of the building. "Besides, you're there for back up should anything go awry."

Corin nodded again. "Okay then let's go."

---

"Well here it is," Corin gestured his hand at a rectangle of light that stood freely in front of them, "the unfound door as it were." He folded his arms across his chest. "Before you go though, tell me, why is this guy so important?"

Though it was not at all necessary for a successful trip through Corin's shadows, Faith kept her hand on his arm. She knew she was perfectly safe with him, but she still wasn't going to risk letting go and getting lost in the darkness. "To me? Or in a larger sense?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"Yes." Corin patted her arm.

She made a face at him before answering. "That night at the prison... he totally could have killed me. Easily. But my other power thing kicked in and we connected and he kinda switched sides. And I know it's partly because he was my first experience with that part of my power. But also... he's got a good side. And he's all about his son. You can't not support that."

Corin nodded. "Well I will be right here, listening."

"Thank you." She smiled at him then faded into invisibility.

Faith stepped out of the shadow and into the dimly lit cell. Though it felt unnatural to be anything other than quiet, she made sure her footsteps were audible in the small room. "Mr. Atua?" She hated the thought of sneaking up on him but the circumstances left her with very few options. "You wanted to see me."

The bed's stand creaked a little as the weight atop it shifted. The silhouette of a large figure swung it's legs over the edge. Only their orange dressing catching the low light from above, the rest of him just lines of black, save for the white eyes that rolled to her direction.

"You came..." The voice had a deepness that resonated even with such a softspoken tone. "I was beginning to worry you might not come."

"I always come." She crossed her legs and took a seat on the cool floor. "Why would you worry?" Her mind immediately sifted through the possibilities. "Are you okay?"

His brow furrowed, "Have you ever been incarcerated?" Roland Atua's nostrils flared. "Time takes a whole new meaning. One day seems like a week. A week, a month. A month..." He looked at the letter he saw in her fingers. He shook his head, closing his eyes. "I don't remember how long it's been since I wrote you. Days maybe?"

She frowned, glad her power hid the expressions on her face. "I came as soon as I got your letter. It's not like you invite me here every day."

Atua's eyes opened. He looked down in the direction of her voice, and she could see the sadness that hung to the dark rings under his eyes. "My son stopped coming. Stopped writing. Everything." His hands balled up tight. "He is in trouble."

[Capin]

Capin gazed over Irongate, giving it a good long look. It sat there, a heavy lump in the water. "This town has all the best views."

He set the little brown paper bag down beside himself and opened it up. He whistled to himself as he fished a sandwich out, half unwrapped it and took a bite. "Mmmm, he nodded to himself, "do I make a good sammich? Yes, I ma-"

It was silent, but he felt it hit his neck like a bee sting. Capin was rolling backward onto the rooftop, pulling the dart from his neck and tossing it. He got his feet beneath him, but could already feel the sluggishness coursing through him. "Aww, not cool..."

The fist hit him hard. He saw stars, and and his jaw stung. The cape lashed out, instinctively opening some space around him.

"I thought you hit him?"

Capin recognized the angry voice from somewhere. He couldn't place it, but that wasn't special. In that moment even the figure a few feet away was a blur.

---

The mattress shifted, an indentation appearing in it as Faith moved to sit beside the giant of a man. It was probably a bad tactical move. But it was the right thing to do. She could hear the hurt in his voice, the frustration of being so close, even in dark place like this, to something good only to lose it unexpectedly.

"I don't understand. Things had been going so well." She'd never bothered trying to hide the fact that she'd been present at the first father/son visit. "I need you to tell me everything."

"They had," he agreed.

Steamroller was quiet again. He was focused on a spot on the floor, or something past it. He seemed to be thinking long and hard about what it was he needed to tell her, about why he had asked her to come. His shoulders rose and fell with a heavy breath.

"He was good, happy to see me at first. We were catching up on his life. School was good. Things with his mom were good. He'd been trying to get involved with the community." His eyes never wavered from that spot in the ground. His nostrils flared though. She recognized that look, the welling up of anger. "He said he'd joined a neighborhood group - some after school watch group or something. Then... Then he stopped coming. They told him I wasn't good for him. That I was what was wrong with this world..."

Faith gasped at his words. The part of her that was already keying into his anger wanted to lash out at such an outright lie. It was easily one of the most painful things someone could say to him and she hated the pain it was causing.

But he didn't need her anger, or sympathy. So when her hand came to rest on his arm the touch conveyed only support. "What kind of community group would say something like..." She bit her lip, telling herself she was jumping to conclusions. "Did... did he say anything else about them?"

His head finally rose, glancing to the place where her invisible hand touched him. "He said they were "taking back their neighborhoods". At first it sounded like they were some sort of Guardian Angels group." He shook his head. "They're not. I'd told him about you, about what you do." Atau looked where her voice came from. "They don't think you do enough. You let people like me roll right over this town, and you're not willing to do what's..." he stopped for a beat as if the thought weighed heavily, "what's necessary."

---

"I did." There was another voice. A stranger, sounded female. "I hit him dead on." Capin tried to steady himself, his cape anchoring into the roof.

"He's still moving." The Dapper Detective narrowed his white eyes on the man, willing his blur to focus. He could make out the swashes of dark colors, a dark gray body with hints of blue. He tried to see his face, but it was covered. It was hooded.

"Ranger." He said with quiet annoyance.

The man was moving around him quickly, trying to circle him. Capin spun, keeping his guard up. The drug, whatever it was, made every movement sluggish and dizzying. "Did you slip me a mickey? Is that what you did?" He batted away the punch only to leave himself open to the follow up kick. It sent him onto his back, rolling across the silver roofing. "Cheeky monkey. You'll never meet a nice boy or girl by drugging their drinks. So, ungentlemanly." He rolled back to his feet and felt his head swim. "But you've never been much of a gentleman, Ranger Rick."

"He think's you're Ranger." Another voice came from somewhere behind him. Another stranger he couldn't place.

That made him surrounded and outnumbered by two. Under normal circumstances he would pity their odds. But then under normal circumstances he wouldn't tussle like this after going 10 rounds in the pub.

He closed his eyes, and tried to focus. Gravity would help him know which way was up and which way was down. His ears would tell them where the others would come from. And the little buzzing in the back of his skull would try and process the drug through him as quickly as possible.

"He's almost lucky I'm not." The man was moving closer. "Ranger would put a bolt in his brain and be done with the bastard. My way will be more painful."

Capin let him think he'd sneaked close. The limb cut through the air like a club and he threw his forearm to block it, bouncing back immediately to cast off the follow up. His shin jerked up and caught the incoming kick.

His opponent cursed angrily. He was strong - too strong for normal. Capin could feel a short temper burning in his attacks. He pummeled away heatedly, and the Dapper Detective was less able to keep up. Even as he took the hits to the shoulder and chest and ribs each one woke up an old memory.

"Why," Capin jabbed out with his left as his right shoulder was slammed back. He caught the man in the throat and sent him back choking. "Savate. What hole did the Lonely Ranger drag you out of?" Capin kept up the offensive as best he could, pressing forward through Savate's parries. He could hear the other two advancing on him to turn the tide. "Are you jealous you didn't get a gig like Dog the Bounty Hunter?"

Savate roared. "Put him down!"

Anika smiled and cracked her knuckles. The little blond teenager smiled and winked at Capin. "What is it about heroes in this city wearing suits?" She giggled as she circled the Dapper Detective. "Do you all get a discount at Men's Wearhouse?"

"Don't play with him, girl," the other voice snarled, "Ranger wants this son of a bitch hurt. He wants his point proven."

"Oh please, Bombshell," she tittered, "he's hurt. He's down for the count. What can he do to me?"

"He's right here, you know. He's not unconscious and still has ears." Capin turned as they rounded him. "And considering that the three of you are decked out in cheap variations of another guy's costume, I'm not so certain you should knock my choice of dress."

Bombshell was moving in from behind him. She struck hard and sharp. She was strong, and certainly trained. She fought with a sharp military precision that he could tell wasn't simply Ranger's work. The other one, whoever she was, wasn't as strong but made up for it with speed. Her style was more fluid. He pegged her for a gymnast turned fighter.

This was not what they had expected from Ranger. He was stepping up this game of his.

"So is this like a recruitement thing?" Knocking aside every kick and punch from the triangle around him, a dizziness was starting to set in. His form getting sloppy. "Am I being recruited? Because I have to tell you I'm not impressed with your pitch."

The first girl kicked his knee out and he stumbled. "How's this for a pitch?" Savate was on him before he could react, planting a foot in his chest that sent him sprawling back.

He wiped his bloody mouth with the back of his hand. Looking up he watched Bombshell level the tranq gun on him. "Is that really necessary?"

---

"I don't like this." Faith was speaking to Atua and her friend hidden in the shadows. "It sounds too much... No. It sounds exactly like a group we've been dealing with."

It took a surprising amount of self control not to get up and start pacing. "Roland, I'm sorry. But these guys are really dangerous. And if your son's mixed up with them..."

"My son can think what he wants about me. I know why I am here. But I will not sit in here and let some," that familiar anger was welling up again, hotter and faster than before, "some self righteous thugs turn him into a killer."

Faith couldn't keep the sadness out of her voice as she answered, remembering Michael, the first 'soldier' they'd manage to get away from Ranger. "Believe me, if I thought for a moment that letting you smash Ranger into a million little pieces would end this, I'd take you out of here right now." Her head drooped, feeling again that helpless frustration that she had when they'd found the recruitment center empty. "But it won't help. All we'd do is prove him right and make room for someone new, or worse, to take his place."

"That's why I asked you to come," he said. "Find my boy. Show him the right way. He is a good boy, despite his father. Don't let these bastards take that away from him."

For a moment, Faith was silenced. She'd been so ready to talk him down, to convince him to let her try to do something... anything, before he took matters into his own hands. "Roland." She put her hands on his shoulders, looking him in the eye... even if he couldn't see it. "Don't you dare sell yourself short. If I'm going to reach him it's going to be because he's like his father. If he's got your heart, I can get to him."

[The Mid-Night Man]

"Freaking Ranger," Corin grumbled, "how is it that jackass keeps showing up over and over?"

Faith nodded, chin bumping against his shoulder as she stood close to him for their trip through the shadows. "I don't know. But I don't like this." She'd said that more than once already.

"Sylph-sense tingling?" Corin chuckled as he found her hand and gave it a squeeze.

"Buddy," Bombshell was irritated and somewhat out of breath, "I'm going to pump you full of so many drugs you'll be lucky to be a vegetable."

"Then I'm going to take that opportunity to carve you like a Thanksgiving turkey."

Capin grunted a little. "I know you're both on food metaphors, but your mixing them up pretty bad."

"And you're three against one right now, which is just... stupid." Irritated and ineloquent, Sylph stepped out of the shadows with Corin. "I need to talk to my friend right now. So just go away," she snapped, grabbing her sticks and looking forward to a little bit of hitting.

"Speaking of Thanksgiving..." The man on the ground propped himself up on an elbow. A smile grew wider under the black cowl. "The cranberry jelly and stuffing have arrived. Please," he pointed to the trio, "dig in."

"You're totally the stuffing," the Vanishing Vixen poked her friend.

"Hey, I've been doing crunches, lady." The Starlight Slueth snapped. "I'm totally the ham."

Sylph dropped the banter in favor of silence as she studied the group who'd been hurting her friend. One was a stranger, but the other two...

"Bombshell?" She remembered the big woman, and that the word 'bulletproof' had come up more than once. Like a strain of music the conversation came back to her: the cops weren't doing enough... Bombshell was just going to help out. It was exactly the sort of story that Ranger could twist and bring into his own vision.

"I thought you wanted to help people." She popped into visibility, letting them spot her between the blonde girl and the strange guy before rushing toward the bald woman. She doubted very much that her attack could do damage against bulletproof, but Bombshell wasn't the target. Her stick smashed down on the tranq-gun, smashing it in the woman's hand.

With a growl that was depressingly more anger than pain, Bombshell dropped the now-useless weapon and swung out with a speed that Sylph hadn't been expecting. The blow sent her flying. The landing would have hurt considerably if she hadn't found herself caught by a nice soft shadow.

"Thanks," she breathed, then quickly gave him the rundown. "The big girl's strong, fast, and, unless she was lying to me the one time we met, bulletproof. Oh... and there was something about her glasses."

"Why is that one looks familiar?" Corin pointed at the younger of the three. When the girl turned around at his question there was a paff and she dropped with a dart in her neck.

"Hospital," Faith murmured. "She popped up the night we met Riordan." She looked over at the angry guy who was still standing too close to Ryu for her comfort. "But I don't know him."

"You wanna go help Tuxedo Mask, while I take care of Raylina Charles?" Corin smirked.

Sylph nodded. "Be careful." She patted his arm then ducked away.

"Aren't I always?" Corin smirked. "So you know it's like 12:30 in the morning, right?" Corin rounded on Bombshell. "I mean yeah I can see just fine, but you could trip over something."

Bombshell grumbled slightly. "You think you're funny," she cracked her knuckles, "I'll wipe that stupid grin off your face."

"Better people than you have tried," his grin widened. He held up his arm, and there was a characteristic paff. A dart launched from under his coat sleeve toward Bombshell.

As it reached his opponent, it bounced harmlessly off of her skin.

Bombshell smiled and stormed toward the Mid-Night Man.

"Oh yeah, that's right," he waggled his finger at Bombshell, "you're bulletproof."

"I can also punch your damn head off!"

Bombshell threw her fist out hard and fast at Corin. He smiled at her as he melded into the shadows and her hand shattered the concrete wall that was behind him.

Sylph stalked closer to the stranger and Ryu. The man was tall, really tall, and he looked... well... grumpy. "Tonight's not going at all like you planned, is it?" she asked cheerfully, knowing it would irritate Mr. Grumpy-pants. "It's really a shame. I mean, it's so lovely out here tonight. If you weren't such a bunch of meanies who work for a psycho, I'd be tempted to invite you to stay for a picnic."

"Invisible, huh? Nice try." Mr. Grumpy turned in the direction her voice had come from. "Robert told us all about your friendship with his jailbird daddy. And Ranger filled us in on the rest." He dropped into a fighting stance, clearly listening for any sign of her approach.

As much as it creeped her out to be talked about by people like this, Faith didn't drop her light tone. "Well Ranger is a fabulous judge of character. And such a polite houseguest. I think he follows that old rule of 'always shoot your host'." She dropped her invisibility long enough to wink at him then disappeared again and moved to the side. When he didn't move to follow her, the redhead sighed. So he wasn't as stupid as he looked.

Savate sent a kick out, not so much in her direction, but it cleared a perimeter around him. He rolled back from Sylph and Capin, stopping at the prone blond's side. "Bombshell. Exit," he said curtly and scooped Anika up, tossing her over his shoulder.

Bombshell fell back toward the opposite corner. "Yeah, yeah." She reached into the pouches of her Ranger-lite costume, "I'm on it." Each hand flashed a round grenade, her thumbs flicking the pins aside. "Maybe next time, Mid-Night Man."

Savate had pulled a canister from his satchel. It was already spewing smoke around him, and he tossed it to the center. The thick gray cover billowed out everywhere. As it enveloped the bald young woman she called out, "Catch!" And the vague shadow of the two grenades lofted through the cover in opposite directions.

The smoke did nothing to slow Faith down as she raced to Capin's side. Hauling him to his feet, ready to carry him if she had to, she worked to give them distance from whatever nasty explosion was sure to follow. And whatever she couldn't do by moving, Enry would have to cover. After all, no one on their side was bulletproof.

A hand roughly slipped around Faith and Ryu's shoulders and then a familiar inky darkness enveloped them. A moment later, and the bright lights of the Doghouse's conference room assaulted their eyes.

"We were setup weren't we?" Corin said as he let the two go and then led Ryu to his chair at the conference table to examine him.

Faith let out a relieved sigh as she sank down into the nearest seat -Eddy's seat. "I guess I didn't need to use you as a shield after all," she teased. It was easier than answering Corin's question. "It wasn't exactly a setup. I mean, not really."

Capin's head was still swimming. His ears were burning from the explosion they never heard. He knew their luck was someone else's misfortune. "Felt like an ambush."

A heavy arm batted the doctor away from him. It took an exceedingly high amount of concentration to focus on finding his com and getting it out of his jacket. He couldn't focus enough to see the screen and sent it sliding across the table with a curse. "Call it in to GCFD," he said, and repeated the cross streets for good measure.

Faith passed the phone along to Corin. "He can do that. You need to sit and listen to what I heard tonight. It's complicated and not good." She leaned across the table to catch as much of his attention as he could give. "It may not make roughhousing with Ranger's friends seem worth it, but I promise it'll make things make more sense."

"Don't take offense if I pass out on you. It's not for lack of interest." He closed his eyes and held his temple, taking a deep breath. The cowl fell away from his face, leaving the bruises and cuts along his cheek. "Our friends got the drop on me and doped me up good. Like I said, ambush... Obviously they're somehow related to our little visit."

"Atua's son. He told him all about me. But then Ranger's group snatched him up. He's one of them now, those good little recruits that drink in all that 'do what's necessary' garbage. They've probably been waiting for us to make a prison visit for a while now." Her head drooped forward toward the tabletop. "Pretty much I walked us right into it."

"Don't blame yourself, Red," said as he closed the comm, "who would have thought our old buddy Ranger would have went and joined the super powered arms race." Despite the first rebuff, Corin started looking over Ryu again. "I recognize the blond girl, but who were the others?"

"The big guy's name is Savate," the dapper detective tugged his tie loose and relented to the good doctor. "Though in that getup I thought he was Ranger himself at first, but to be fair I had just been pumped full of drugs. Nasty one - a bounty hunter with a short fuse. He spent a little time in the city, but that was years ago."

"I met Bombshell, the big girl, one night..." She paused, trying to remember. "Wow. It was probably right around the time when Garrett first started working with Ranger. She's probably been with him for a while now." It seemed like a lifetime ago. "It's kinda sad. She seemed nice at the time."

"The kid was..." Corin paused, "damn I don't even think we got her name. She's strong enough to palm a tv out of the sky, so she could give us problems too."

Corin finished his exam and flopped into his own seat. "I'd like to get a blood sample to figure out what exactly it was they hit you with."

Capin gave a smile. "I seem to have plenty of it available."

He pointed a finger at Faith. "And I really don't need to give you a lecture about how this really isn't your fault, right? 'Cause I failed the class on lectures. We all know where the fault flies from this crap tornado."

"That's a disgusting image." She pointed a finger right back at him. "And I'm really really sick of Ranger messing with kids and generally good people. He'd hurting people in like... every way possible. We can't let this go on."

Corin nodded as he rubbed his eyes. "We have let him get way too far, let him get way too much. We need to start in on the attack. Take the fight to him."

Faith shook her head. "Like we did at the 'recruitment center'?" She looked down at the table, almost ashamed at how easily that negative attitude had come to her lips. "I'm sorry. That wasn't helpful. I just don't know how we're going to do that... and not be like... like him."

Corin sighed. "That is a damn good point. I hate it but you're right. We need to get a head of the game."

Ryu sat quietly, his fingers knotted under his chin as he leaned on the table. "He may operate under the impression that he is a force for good in this city. He might be charismatic. We know better though." He gave a weary sigh. "We take him on like we do a common gang or organized mob. We'll hunt him down, and we'll bring him to justice.

"What makes this situation prickly is the collateral damage. The recruits. They're joining Ranger for a reason. There's a void there there that he's finding and filling." Capin slid his chair back from the table. "What happens to those kids when we pull the general out? We need something to step in, to show them a better way. We need something to give them a future."

"We work from the shadows, most of us. I don't want to encourage this life to any kid." He turned his gaze to Faith. "But your family..."

"Focuses on the arts," the redhead finished for him. "However, the joint project we've been planning with KenTech may be just the thing. It's got the scope to catch the kids who would never dream to darken the doors of the Foundation. But that means we need to go from planning to implementing soon."

She ran her fingers across her forehead, absently brushing hair aside. The project had taken a back-burner lately with everything else that had been going on. She was sure the board hadn't forgotten though. And the project itself... it was good. And if it could help them win against Ranger, it was possibly the most important plan she'd ever attached herself to.

"And it means we're going to need to talk to Aaron about this. Probably the rest of the team too."

"I'll throw in all the support I can," Corin gave a half hearted smile, "let's not forget who's family owns the Garrison Natural History Museum. And since I'm the last of the family, I'm sure I can talk the board into something charitable."

Faith nodded. "Charity will help. Putting your family's name behind us would be a great show of solidarity. But we have to have to make sure we act. This is an immediate, or as immediate as corporations get, plan for the area that will help the kids Ranger has been hurting. And I don't mean to make it some big production. I really don't." She leaned in, trying to explain herself without sounding totally selfish. "But this has to seem like something that's been in the works for a while. Otherwise I'm putting my family in that psychopath's crosshairs."

"Ranger considers us a threat and he knows you. I think we're better off after tonight thinking your family is in their crosshairs." He rubbed his temple. "If we can find a silver lining from that business with Constance, it's that your family's upped their personal security."

"And my mom decided she needs to remodel the kitchen," Faith added with a wry smile. She refused to be angry at Garrett for the many ways he'd managed to compromise her identity during their friendship. Instead, she sighed and curled her legs up beneath her in the chair. "My dad's got good security. It's just hard not to worry about them. I'd worry about Steamroller too... but he's probably pretty safe where he is."

Ryu nodded. The way that Faith took life to heart, not just those close to her, but everyone was one of her most inspiring qualities. She had it long before she started haunting the streets. Having known her father, he knew that was something her family had instilled in her. And Shaun Kavanaugh would never back down from doing the right thing, simply to save his own skin either.

"So we talk to Aaron and fast track this plan of yours. In the meantime, we see if we can dig Ranger out of his foxhole."

"I'm in for this," Corin cracked his knuckles, "I'm tired of this guy hiding behind kids. Sides I owe him some payback."

"I can't say payback doesn't sound good. In fact, the idea of Ranger doing some bleeding is highly satisfying. But I really just want him stopped." She looked at her friends, trusting them in this completely. "And we're going to make it happen."

"Indeed." Capin stood, his cowl back in place. "And we're not going to wait on it. I'm calling this priority one. I'll head out tonight and light some fires to see what sort of rats run out."

Faith rose to follow. "I'm going to do some double checking on home security." She gave a guilty little smile. "Just to be safe."

"We've put a few of Ranger's little flying monkeys in juvie," Corin put his fedora back on. The shadow grew over his face, "I might go give some kid's some nightmares and see what washes out."

"Have fun, Mr. Creepy." She paused and gave her shadowy friend a speculative look. A lot had happened in short amount of time. There were people she needed to check on, people she needed to talk to, and one person she needed to encourage. "Could you pencil in another quick trip to the prison tomorrow night? We left kinda abruptly and I just want Steamroller to know how seriously we take this."

Corin sighed, "Yeah," he nodded, "I can do that. How long is Yokozuna a guest of the state any way?"

She rolled her eyes at his attempt at a joke but answered anyway. "It depends. He's been doing some amazing things since that night with the rain. There's been talk of nominating him for work release, and I think he deserves it." Her smile curled the sides of her lips. "Part of the reason I want to go back out there and reassure him. I don't want him doing anything to mess up all the progress he's made."

"If the guy is really wanting to turn over a new leaf," Corin shrugged, "maybe we should involve him in the project to fix what is broken?"

"One step at a time." Faith shook her head then wrapped her arms around him in a little hug. "But I do love the thought. And I love you both." It was probably a side effect of too little sleep or just from being a generally emotional person, but at that moment she felt an overwhelming sense of pride at being a part of their little 'family'.

Capin flashed her a wink and a smile. "You're not too shabby yourself, Jiminy Cricket."

"I am an awfully cute conscience," she chuckled. "Now get going, boys. We've got an awful lot of work to do."

"Modest too." He chuckled and lead the way out of The Cave. "Who knows maybe we'll get lucky and this operation of his will fall like a bad souffle."

[Highwayman]

“I wasn’t expecting to leave prison before my time was up,” Eric Duvall looked at the three members of the probation board.

Clearly, this wasn’t the response they were expecting. While some people became lifetime members of the prison system and were unable to adapt to life outside of the walls, this man was not one of them.

“Mister Duvall,” the gentleman in the middle cleared his throat. “You have been a model prisoner and couple that with your recent actions in the riot and we cannot within good conscience hold you here while there are men who should be in your spot.”

Miss Kimberly Thayne was a recent graduate of law school and when she couldn’t find work she found a cause, Eric somehow became that cause. She combed through the case and found that while Eric confessed to the killing of Messina he was not without merit. Compared to his charitable works for Garrison City and the journal he turned in to the police thing evened out for them. As for the riot, it wasn’t that big of a deal, he helped a guard with a broken leg to the infirmary and then helped out there in small ways. He wasn’t looking for a gold star he just did what came natural.

“Guard, please take Mr. Duvall down to processing,” the speaker said with a rare smile. “Be happy, Eric, you’ve got a second chance.”

The next couple of hours were a blur of paperwork and doors opening, then doors closing. He wasn’t getting out that very day, they had to prepare a few things, and sign more paperwork but he would be out soon. After that, he just didn’t know.

---

“Sir,” the recruit rushed forward and was greeted with a hard stare.

“What, recruit?” Ranger growled. “You know I don’t like to be bothered during my morning routine.”

Taking the distraction to their advantage the three recruits charged. Ranger turned kicking the legs out of one and tossing him into the others sending the trio into a tangled crash.

“Pathetic,” Ranger spat and turned back to the messanger. “This had better be worth it or you’re taking their place.”

“I thought you would want to see this, sir,” the messenger held out a newspaper.

“I don’t read that trash,” Ranger turned back to the trio, one of the recruits had disentangled himself and was cautiously approaching.

“They print lies,” Ranger caught the recruits punch and pulled the attacker into a rolling arm-bar.“They ignore out efforts and praise those costumed fools,” the recruits arm cracked audibly.“Get a medic.”

“This is important, sir,” the messenger pointed to the article. “Eric Duvall, the Highwayman, he’s been released from prison.”

Ranger turned and looked at the messenger. The recruit recoiled at the wild smile.

“Freshen up boys,”Ranger laughed.“Get your friend to the medic and get me the address of Eric Duvall. I want a scout with eyes in less than an hour.”

“Yes, sir,” the recruits replied in unison.

---

He was wearing the same suit he wore the day he was incarcerated. It felt weird, tight in places and loose in others, like it wasn’t actually his. Lifting his head slightly he took a breath of fresh air, well as fresh as the air in the bay could be, and savored it. The prison barge ran to and from the island penitentiary as needed and he was one of three other prisoners heading back to the city.

“What’s the plan?” A voice off to his left asked.

Eric turned to look at the thin man sitting next to him. Even being out of the yard and away from the hardened criminals the thin man was unconsciously trying to make himself smaller, unworthy of notice.

“I’m going to get a pack of smokes, have myself a beer, and a big greasy cheese-burger,” the thin man smiled broadly. “Then I’m going to find me a lady.”

He continued on talking but Eric wasn’t listening. The edge of Garrison was emerging from the early morning fog and even in the haze of the harbor it looked magnificent.

“Well?” The thin man asked. “What about you?”

“I’m going to sleep in my bed and put on my own clothes,” Eric nodded and closed his eyes. “After that I don’t know.”

“Gotta have a plan,” the thin man cackled. “My third time out and you got to have a plan. Idle hands, my friend, idle hands.”

“I don’t have a plan,” Eric shrugged.

“Close your eyes,” the thin man said.

Eric complied.

“What do you see?”

“Music,” Eric whispered.“I would love to hear some music.”

“There you go,” the thin man laughed. “Get yourself a job at a club, listen to your music.”

The opera house, Eric smiled and nodded to the thin man, it wasn’t a club but from inside his hiding spot he could hear the music.

“We’re here,” one of the guards on the boat called. “Get your paperwork handy and line-up.”

Eric stood and handed over his papers when prompted. His first steps off the boat were amazing, like his heart was starting to beat again for the first time. He could check on his old stash, see if his equipment was still there, and if his security was in place he could see how his other locations were holding up. He had money, stuff he had stolen from the mafia and legitimate earnings. He would be ok for a while.

Things had changed while he was away but he had too.

---

There was a thin layer of dust on every surface on the hideout. This was his first stop instead of the apartment he owned. Here had had a cot to sleep on and a couple of changes of clothes, unlike his lush living space nearby but this felt more like home. He noted a distinct lack of footprints or any signs of movement told him that in the years he had been gone the place had gone unspoiled but also unused. He couldn’t remember exactly but he thought he may have given Faith instructions on how to get in. Home wasn’t really an option. Unmasking in front of reporters made going to anywhere attached to his name rather hard. Shrugging he went about inspecting the rest of the hideout and starting up the security monitors to check out his other stashes.

Fast forwarding through almost four years of the same image took a few minutes. Not a soul had found the place or even visited. His gear, his costume, and even the empty glass of water had not moved in all this time. Eric Duvall had done his time and paid his debt to society but he could still feel the weight on his soul. Highwayman had caused a lot of harm, of course that hadn’t mattered then, it was all about revenge.

Time moved swiftly after that night. False bravado and play-acting at something he was not while being in turmoil. The trip to Mongolia and parts beyond, the monastery had saved his soul and given him resolve. He would stop running from his deeds and face them. Eric thought that meant turning himself in but now as he looked around his hideout the gesture felt empty. Three years for penance for taking a life.

There was the probation, reporting in regularly and being on a leash. Not literally, an ankle bracelet would have been laughable.

A security check of his off-site and emergency stashes told him that his gear was intact, all of it. He knew he had hid it well but he thought that other people in the masked world might take advantage of it. With a shrug he walked over to the case that contained his costumed and opened it up. He took the hat and cape first, lying them out on the nearby table, then he took off the mask and lastly the sword-belt. The body suit was a folded carefully at the bottom of the case and he shook it out as he held it up.

Highwayman, here his parts lay.

Slowly, almost reverently, Eric began to put on his old costume. It fit but it was a bit snug around his arms and shoulders, the cape while functional felt cumbersome, and the hat was silly. He remembered commissioning it as a sort of armor but it was just heavy and rather pointless. The mask was the biggest surprise as he got it down over his face as it fit and had a sudden bout of claustrophobia.

He pulled off the mask and looked at it, “that’s never happened before.”

It felt like someone was holding their hand over his mouth, like the air was thin. His gaze cast around the hideout until it fell on an old rotary phone near the wall. As he crossed the room to the phone he wondered if this was all just an exercise in futility. He went public about being Highwayman, he was pretty sure putting the mask back on would sent him swiftly back to prison. Logically he knew that he should take off the costume, lock it up, and never return. But some part of him knew that the very weight he felt on his soul would only be lifted through deeds which required a mask.

His hand lingered over the receiver as his inner turmoil raged. Gently he picked up the piece and began to dial a number he hoped was still in service.

“Tailor,” the gruff voice answered.

“I’m In need of a mask,” Eric held up his old one. “Have your rates changed?”

“For old friends like you,” the voice softened ever so slightly. “The price remains the same. Good to hear from you Eric. I’ll be over in the morning.”

“Thank you,”Eric smiled and hung up.

---

“You look tired, kid,” the tailor shook his hand as he walked through the door.

Tailor, or The Tailor, was the foremost designer and fabricator of cutting edge body armor and other equipment. Some claimed it was his super-power, other just said he was exceptionally skilled, but what really mattered was that his stuff worked. In his youth Tailor had been something of a hero but he kept his name and his past to himself. From his broad shoulders and thick chest it was apparent that even though he walked with a limp he was not an easy target.

“I was up all night cleaning,” Eric smiled waving a hand to the hideout. “My knives, my swords, my gear, I even did my dishes.”

“Damn,” Tailor smiled and looked around, he was cradling a box on his hip. “Pretty Spartan space.”

Eric looked around, his hideout was definitely more of a staging area than a living space. His cot and kitchen area took up a small corner while his gear, the security system, and the equipment to maintain all of it inhabited the rest of the place.

“Don’t you have a plush apartment nearby?” He set the box down on a workbench and opened it.

“Haven’t looked at it yet,” Eric shrugged.

“Probably needs to be cleaned up too,” the older man lifted a few bundles from the package.

“I had a cleaning lady.”

“For four years?”

“She was paid automatically at the end of each week,”he sighed. “The account should have had enough.”

“I’ve got a selection,” Tailor pointed to the masks laid out on the work table. “What are you looking for?”

“I need air,” Eric held up a domino mask. “Seriously?”

“People love the classics,” the Tailor smiled.

“Something with a bit more protection would be nice,” he quickly added. “Something that doesn’t really look like my old suit, I don’t want them to know it’s me.”

“Under the radar, got it,” the older man held up a mask with the lower face exposed and the eye area covered in some sort of lenses.

“Can I try it on?”

The Tailor nodded.

Eric slipped the mask into place and blinked at the yellow tint the world took.

“How does it feel?”

“Much better,”he took a breath and moved his head from side to side. “The lenses will take getting used to.”

“My own invention,” a bit of pride crept into his voice. “Intelligent lenses, they cancel out extreme lighting.”

“Ok,”Eric nodded. “I have no idea what that means.”

“They make it so you can see in the dark and in the light without the painful transition of night-vision goggles,” he shrugged. “They aren’t as versatile, complete darkness is beyond them, but low light they work great and if a flash-bang goes off in front of your face you won’t be bad off.”

“Aside from the ringing in my ears and the coppery taste, you mean?”

“Of course, smart ass,” the Tailor took off the mask. “I can fit a gas-mask attachment to it too, for those times you might need it.”

“That sounds great,”Eric crossed his arms. “A new suit, I’m thinking green.”

“Don’t be daft,” the tailor chuckled. “No one uses green, you know why?”

Eric shrugged.

“You can see it at night,” the older man shook his head. “The eye picks it up in the dark, you’d be a walking target.”

“I can’t afford to change all of my gear over,” he motioned to his collection of cutlery. “But Highwayman shows up and I head back to prison.”

“Well,” the tailor leaned over the work table and looked at the mask. He held it up and compared it to the old suit, “your body suit is pretty generic.”

“Thanks,”Eric laughed.

“It’s your gear that makes you Highwayman, you fool,” the tailor tossed the mask at him and it turned out to be more solid than it looked. “We keep the gray, change the mask, and switch-up your load out.”

“I was hoping to get rid of the cape,”Eric nodded. “I’ll give you the cape and hat to tinker around with if you like.”

“Thank you, sweetness,” the tailor looked at the assembled cutlery and began to tap his fingers on the table. “You’ll need a new name, I’m guessing?”

“What’s in a name?” Eric held his hand to his forehead.

The tailor limped over to him and poked him in the chest. “What’s your target? What’s your play?”

“I’m going after the mob, I’m cleaning up the mess I helped create,”it felt good to get that out in the air.

“Like the old days,” the older man laughed. “Elliot Ness versus Al Capone, G-Men against the mob,” he paused. “We could call you G-Man but then you sound like a moron. We keep the grey suit and I add a couple of things,” the older man was practically hopping with excitement.

“I’m kind of on a fixed income right now,” Eric picked up a small duffle bag and held it out to the Tailor.

The Tailor looked inside and waved his hand at it, “I can work within a budget.”

“How long?”

“Give me a week,” the tailor pulled out a pocket notebook and began to scribble down ideas.

“What do I do until then?”

“Go home,” the older man laughed.

[The Mid-Night Man]

"Lord Ra," the cat goddess Bast purred as she bowed her head and saluted the lord of the gods, "the council is ready for you."

Ra stood with his back to his champion and chief protector his arms folded behind his back. His bronze skin seemed to have sunlight radiate off of it.

The sun god stared out of the windows, onto what almost looked like ancient egypt itself. He turned and faced his champion, a grim look on his face. "All of them?" his eyebrows raised.

Her head bowed, "No my lord."

Ra's eyes flashed angrily. He pushed past Bast, his hand roughly moving her shoulder out of the way, causing her to hiss with pain as his touch left an angry red burn on her arm.

Ra strode into the council chamber. He surveyed the room. A gigantic bronze table sat in the middle of the room surrounded by hundreds of chairs, but only a dozen were filled. "Where is the entirety of the council?" He said in a low and dangerous voice.

"They are scared Lord Ra," Isis said with a slim almost imperceptible smile, "it appears that they do not trust you can protect them."

"Is that what you believe Isis?" Ra said angrily as his hands reached for the crook and flail at his belt.

Horus, who sat on the far side of his mother from Ra stood, "Do you threaten my mother, my lord?" He placed his hands on the table and stared down at the lord of the gods.

"Do you presume to disrespect me boy? Ra slammed his fist on the table, "You hang from your power hungry mother's teet and tried to usurp my throne!" his eyes burned with blinding light.

To his credit, Horus returned the burning gaze. "I would cut out your tongue old man," Horus pulled his khopesh from his side.

Bast hissed and stepped toward Horus.

"Calm yourselves," Osiris held up his hand, "sheath your sword Horus. Ra is the our lord, and as such we will follow his word." His words cold like wind blowing through a crypt. His eyes never turned to look at any of them, but the milky white orbs stayed focused straight ahead.

Horus shot a mutinous glare at his father and then obeyed.

"A wise move brother," Set, who sat across from his brother at the right hand of Ra, leaned forward on the table his hands folded in front of him, "I understand the waves of chaos better than any of you, and I can see Apep gaining ground. He was wise to help Ak-Fet Sur in his resurrection. We all know what that mortal can do if given the right tools." He said with a chuckle. The desert god leaned back into his chair and stared at his brother. "The only question I have is, how did his soul survive your judgement brother?"

Osiris's face remained impassive. He did not speak however, his wife did that for him.

"Do you blame my husband?" She turned her head and addressed the lord of the gods himself, "Why do you allow this murderer to sit on this council?

He murdered my husband, the sovereign ruler you appointed to take over in you absence!" She pleaded to Ra, her eyes widened with anger.

"I remember it differently," Set snorted with laughter, "I seem to remember it as Lord Ra led his forces into the deepest reaches of the du'at to attack Apep you and my dear brother usurped his throne. Those of us loyal to Ra fought back..."

"Enough of this prattle!" Ra slammed his fist on the table silencing the others, "We face the worst threat Apep has ever set against Ma'at and you fools squabble like children fighting over toys?"

He leaned forward on the table, "Despite what any of you may think, I am lord and master of this house, and we face a threat greater than anything we have ever faced. We either stand together, or we fall and with us the entire of Ma'at and creation itself. I have sent Bes to speak with the Olympians and try to gain their support..."

Isis cut across him, "I ask you, what kind of a ruler stoops to reaching out to usurpers and traitors." She gave a pleading look at the other gods in the council.

"That is enough Isis!" Ra roared. "This is about saving creation not your petty power grabbing! The Olympians have as much at stake as we do."

"Ra's got a point sweetheart," a voice came from behind Isis. The goddess whirled around to face the voice that would dare speak to her like that. She faced a tall, good looking gray haired man wearing a moon white three piece suit with a black shirt underneath. "now why don't you just shut up and let the man talk, or I'll make you look like the old hag you're acting like."

Isis stared hatefully into his steel gray eyes.

"Try me."

Isis stared at him for a moment longer and then turned back to the table.

"Khons," Ra said warmly, "what news?"

"It's as we feared Ra," he said grimly as he took a seat at the table, "Through Sur, Apep has be raising followers."

As he said this, there was a low murmur across the table.

"Now because of the deeds of our avatars on Earth," Khons nodded at Ra, Set, and Shu, "we are able to stay strong enough for our power to keep old snake breath at bay, but for how long..." Khons shrugged.

"How is he getting new followers?" Thoth finally spoke up from next to Khons.

"He has created a cult of personality around himself as a new age guru, telling people "the rules no longer apply. Give in to your own personal freedom." The usual claptrap that will get the unintelligent excited." Khons took a deep breath and continued. "He started in Western Europe, Paris to be exact. Which is where he ran into and killed Shu's avatar Jean-Pierre Sylvestre. If it had not been for the quick thinking of Shu, Apep would have absorbed his essence. How is the new avatar working out?"

"In hiding. I've had to take a more active role in her life than I normally would," Shu told the group, "but I need to keep the girl safe till she understands who and what she now is."

"That is not how the rules are set Shu, and you know it!" Isis said rounding Shu.

"We are at war Isis, we must protect ourselves as much as we can." Ra interjected.

"So we are to not only put our faith in Olympians, but mortals as well?" Isis rose from the table, "Come," she motioned to Horus, Anubis and Osiris "we will find our own way through this crisis."

The other three gods rose and followed Isis out of the hall.

Bast gave a guttural growl and took a step toward the retreating gods, but Ra held up a hand.

"Let them leave. We have other things to discuss." He motioned Bast to the chair once filled by Osiris. With one more look at the backs of Isis and her husband, Ra returned his attention to the table. "Where are we with your avatar, Dr. Graves?"

"He still doesn't know what he has in accepting my patronage, truly meant. He has tapped into it several times, but he does not know the true extent of my power."

Ra nodded, "And he still doesn't know his heritage?"

Khons hung his head, "I haven't told him yet. I..." he rubbed his hands together and sighed, "I promised them."

Ra placed his hand on Khons's shoulder, "Old friend," he said in a compassionate voice, "for all of us, for the good of order, I think it's sadly time to break that promise."

---

A handsome middle eastern man in a dark suit stood in front of an audience that hung on his every single word. The man's head was bowed like he was in prayer, his hands folded patiently in front of him. "Friends," he said barely above a whisper, his head still bowed, "we have forgotten what is important in life. We have forgotten what makes us," he paused and raised his head looking out at the audience. His lip curled into a wry smile, "Human. We wake up, we go to work, we come home, we go to bed. We repeat this process everyday, and why? Because society tells us we should."

There were murmurs of agreement in the audience as he continued.

"Society tells us what is good for us. You are told that society's laws will bring you happiness, but is this true?" He unfolded his hands and spread them out I front of himself.

The erupted in a chorus of no's.

"Exactly my dear friends," he smiled, "Humanity has allowed itself to be cowed into believing that the rules and laws of society are for their best interest. We all know the truth. We know that all of society's rules are really there to keep us under its control. Keep us cowed and under its heel."

The crowd roared with approval.

"Shall we do it brothers?" He held his arms out wide as he spoke up, "Shall we throw off the shackles of society and live a life without stress and fear?"

The crowd roared again.

"Then let go of the chains of society! Let go of the constraints of regulations and rules! Embrace the glory of chaos in your life!"

With this the people rose to their feet and cheered.

Ak-Fet Sur walked off the stage and into the wings. "Sheep." He thought to himself as he walked toward his dressing room.

He opened the door to the lavish room filled with his assistants. "Where do we stand?"

"Well my lord," a man in a black suit greeted him, "we have added at least five hundred new converts. All have agreed to be rally during the winter solstice."

"Excellent," Ak-Fet nodded as he sat down across from the other man, "Do you have what I asked for?"

Ak-Fet's assistant nodded and snapped his fingers.

A beautiful blond girl was brought into the room. She beamed at Ak-Fet. "You're speech was amazing."

Ak-Fet nodded. "Why thank you my dear. Are you here to take the oath?"

"Absolutely." She breathed.

Ak-Fet looked up smiling, "Leave us."

The others left the room. Ak-Fet stood in front of the girl. "Kneel before me."

The girl looked at him nervously.

"I said," he put a hand on her shoulder, "kneel."

He pushed her down to her knees. His eyes glowed red, and crimson tendrils of smoke began to appear around his arms and down around the girl. The smoke solidified into snakes.

The girl tried to scream but the crimson snake slid down her open mouth and her eyes widened even more in fear.

Her skin began to shrivel, and her eyes rolled back into her head.

Finally her dead mummified form landed with a thump on the ground in front of Ak-Fet Sur.

"Welcome to the freedom of chaos," he grinned as he turned away from the dead body.

[Mystery Man]

Spencer tugged at the collar of his shirt, then resumed his explanation. "The metal filings on the key and the obvious lack of forced entry from the balcony were strong indicators, but what really tipped me off was something Mr. Robilotti said."

"Just get to the point, Blaine," the tall homicide detective said gruffly.

"Its Cash now, Tacky, and I'm getting to it." He turned away from his high school rival turned homicide investigator and winked at the blonde in the back of the room. "Mr. Robilotti told me his son had borrowed the key to the wall safe to stash Mysterious Comics number 31, the first appearance of The Grey Ghost, which I am told is worth a considerable amount of money.

"I looked into Robilotti Junior's purchase of the comic and it seems it was insured for half a million dollars. Yet Junior doesn't have that much money. And none of the family has loaned him that much money. So where did he get the money?"

Detective Tackelbury frowned. "Fine, he was a deadbeat who insured the comic. Maybe he even stole it, but it doesn't prove he was the murderer."

Smiling, Spencer motioned for the policeman to come closer. In a low voice, he said "Just between us, because you were a dick back in high school, I'm going to make you look bad."

Turning his back on Tackelbury, the Investigator of Enigmas walked over to the balcony doors. "Detective Tackelbury had his men search the house, the balcony and the gardens as well as the surrounding area for the murder weapon. But," Spence picked up a chair and dragged it out to the balcony. Putting on a pair of gloves, he stepped up on the chair and reached up, out of their sight. "I'm afraid he forgot to have them check the roof."

Pulling his hand back down, he held up a large kitchen knife with a dried crimson substance on the blade. He walked back in the room and set the knife on a low table, where a uniformed policeman promptly scooped it into an evidence bag. Turning to the older couple, his expression softened. "Mr. Robilotti, Mrs. Robilotti, I'm sorry, but forensics will show your son's prints on the hilt of the knife. And your butler's blood on the blade."

Tackelbury's men sprung into life, grabbing the younger Robilotti and placing him in handcuffs. As they started to read Junior his rights, Spence interrupted. "Where's the comic?"

"It was the prize of my collection," the young man said. "I couldn't give it up, I had to keep it, even if I couldn't show it off."

Spencer nodded, placing his hand on the other man's shoulder. "And where is it?"

"Private storage, Twenty-Eight and Bradley. Unit 122-A."

Nodding, Spencer turned back to the Robilottis. "In light of the... outcome of my investigation, I'm going to waive my fee. Again, I'm sorry."

Turning his back on the scene, he walked out of the room, Sarah Harris followed. As they left the manor, Spencer glanced over at the girl. "So, do you think that will help you with your criminal psych paper?"

"Oh yeah, I think I've got that down," Sarah said with a smile. "But what I don't understand is the psychology of a private eye. Did you really just give up on a ten thousand dollar fee?"

"Yes and no," Spence replied. "I know where the missing comic is. And I worked out a deal with the insurance company. Ten percent of the policy value if I return the missing item. So I traded a ten grand fee for fifty grand."

Sarah laughed and bumped him with her shoulder. "That makes more sense. So what now?"

"Well, the storage place on 28th and Bradley, then the insurance offices, then the bank."

"You forgot one," Sarah said with a gleam in her eyes.

Looking at the girl with an amused smile, Spence asked, "Oh yeah? And what's that?"

"You taking me to lunch with some of that big insurance fee."

---

Sarah and Spencer made their way to the storage place, then uptown to meet with the insurance adjustor. After depositing the big insurance fee at the bank, they walked out of the bank. "So where do you want to grab lunch?"

She grinned at the detective. "I get to pick?"

"Well I asked," Spence replied warily. He spun his key ring around his index finger. "And it was your idea, so yes, you get to pick."

Snatching the keys, Sarah laughed. "Then I get to drive." She sprinted around the car and slid into the driver's seat. "C'mon slowpoke!"

Reluctantly Spencer climbed into the passenger seat of his car. As he did the engine started and before the detective could buckle his seatbelt Sarah had started off.

They ended up in what Spencer recognized as an upscale area several blocks away from Green Dolphin Street. "Where are we going?" he asked, looking sideways at Sarah.

"A little place I know. Good little Italian place." Winking, she added, "I'm glad you're wearing a suit today. Back in the day I wouldn't have pictured you in a suit."

Spencer laughed. "I wouldn't have pictured me in one either." he said as Sarah slid his car into a parking space. She set the parking brake and flipped the keys back to Spence.

"We're here," she said. "DiCiardi's Bistro."

They walked the short distance to the restaurant and were quickly seated. Glancing at the menu, Spencer's eyes bugged out. "Is this a typo?" he asked in surprise. "Sixty dollars for lunch? I know a little place with great stromboli for six bucks a pop."

"You said I could pick anywhere," Sarah teased. "You'll love it. Besides, you just got a big fee. You can afford to splurge on this one thing to impress your socialite girlfriend, right?"

"Fine," Spence said with a sigh. "I'll spring for your... wait? Girlfriend?"

Beaming at the man across the table from her, Sarah said "Glad to see your keen detective instincts picked that up."

"Taking shots at my skills, huh?" Spencer raised an eyebrow and pointed out the window "Should I buy those two guys who have been following us lunch too?"

Sarah's head spun to peer out the window. "We've been followed? Why?"

"Dunno," he said with a shrug. He pulled out a notepad and jotted something down. "So? Just lunch for us or for them too?"

"Just us. Maybe you could have that cheap stromboli delivered to those guys."

As they watched the bland sedan sitting across the street from them, the waiter arrived and Spencer let Sarah do the ordering. They ate through the first two courses, talking, laughing and occasionally looking out the window at the boring grey sedan across the street.

"You should do it," Sarah said as they were discussing their afternoon plans and waiting for their dessert to be delivered. "Order stromboli for those guys. You can pay the delivery guy and have him walk it over to them."

"Why don't I just give them our itinerary for the rest of the afternoon?" Spence asked as he began to dial his phone.

Sarah's eyes and smile widened. "Do it."

---

They met the delivery boy as they were leaving the restaurant. "Perfect timing," Spencer said as he handed the delivery boy a sheaf of bills and a piece of paper from his pocket notebook. "Take the food, along with the note, to the gentlemen in the grey car across the street." Then he turned and walked toward his car, laughing arm-in-arm with Sarah.

The duo worked their way through the itinerary. They visited the museum, where Spencer expressed amazement that Corin's parents were cool enough to dig up all of the treasures, and Freedom Eagle Park, where the detective's Mystery Sense kept buzzing at odd times.

Wrapping up the list, Sarah and Spence made their way to Green Dolphin Street -- he had vetoed a trip to some of her favorite dance clubs -- and as they approached, Spencer paused.

"Go on in and get us a table," he said, looking at the same grey sedan that had been trailing them most of the day. "I'll be right in. Oh," he added with a wink, "Basil Hayden, double, neat."

Sarah gave him a peck on the cheek. "Okay, but if they're paparazzi make sure to break their cameras when you punch them out," she said mockingly.

Spence trotted over to the car. "Did you guys have a good day?" he asked, leaning down to the window. "I mean, I know we did, but you guys didn't look like you did, sitting in the car, standing around nonchalantly, looking as inconspicuous as a pair of cheap suits can. So what's the deal?"

The man behind the steering wheel spoke without looking at Spencer. "We wanted to talk to you, Mr. Blaine."

Spencer frowned. "It's Cash. Blaine is my middle name."

"You were born Spencer Carbrey Blaine. You changed it." the second man said with an accent Spencer couldn't quite place. "Though the why is still a bit of a mystery."

Mysteries are my business," Spencer deadpanned. "What's yours?"

The first agent spoke again. "Protecting the United States and it's allies from security threats."

"And we want you. You are a talented investigator, apparently a skilled combatant. Your work for Mr. Matthews's fiance was quite impressive."

Spencer stood up, something about the two agents bothering him. "Boys, I deposited a check for fifty grand today. It took three days work. I'm afraid I can't afford the pay cut. You keep protecting the world your way, I rather like mine." With that, he turned away and walked toward his waiting date.

[Highwayman]

He had forgotten how nice the apartment was. He sat on the couch and just let himself relax for a moment. He kicked off his shoes and let his feet touch the floors. He had missed this place but such luxury he never expected again, especially the bathroom. The cleaning lady would get a bonus this year, if he had to knock the teeth out of every drug dealer and tough on the street to pay for it, he would.

Before he had gone to prison he had put the utilities on a payment plan, he had expected to be in for about ten years and the bank account he had used should have covered it. In short, his water and lights still worked but he felt odd using them. There was just so much space now.

He took a bath and soaked in the nice hot water, staying in until the water had cooled. Looking up at the ceiling he sent thanks back to the old Eric who purchased the tub, it was worth every penny. Tonight was about relaxing and settling in, tomorrow he would make his rounds dealing with banks and other institutes where his money was located.

As he got out of the bath he began to turn each light off in the apartment. Taking the time to learn the sounds of the place again and remembering which boards squeaked and how the tiles sounded. As Eric turned off the light in the main room he looked out the window at the city beyond, knowing he would have to relearn it too. He stared for a moment taking it in when something caught his eye, a movement of something not quite right. As casually as he could, and switched off the other light in the room, now the only illumination came from his open bedroom door.

Someone was watching him, that much was certain. One lesson he would never unlearn from the past few years was a healthy dose of self-preservation. He should have seen them sooner but he was too distracted by the luxury of his apartment. Trying his best to seem casual and unaware he went into his room, closed the door and turned off the light.

Once the lights were off he slinked across the room and lifted a painting of Zorro from its perch. Behind it was a wall safe which he opened and pulled out his spare suit. As quickly as he could he slid on the old costume except for the mask, tossing it back into the safe and locking it.

The window in his bedroom was much smaller than the one in the main area, to see him they would have to get closer, possibly even come inside. Eric slid down to the floor beside the bed and waited. Without meaning to he began to doze off. It wasn’t until he heard the click of a window opening that he realized he had fell asleep at all.

Soft footfalls padded around the main room as the intruders approached the door. Eric crawled to where the door would open and block him and waited. Slowly the door opened, and two figures entered into his room. They were both clad in black fatigues, a dark cap tucked low on their foreheads. Each of the carried a weapon, a glock 21 by the looks of the moonlight, held up and close, palm under the clip. They moved with that military caution.

He waited a moment, making sure there weren’t any more and then made his move. As quickly as he could he stepped up behind the closest intruder and put him in a choke hold.

“Quiet,” the other intruder said before turning around.

“Not a step closer or he dies,”Eric bluffed tightening his grip.

“You wouldn’t,” the intruder's voice was younger than he expected, deep but without the cadence of experience.

“Two men invade my home, I protect myself,” Eric could feel the intruder in his arms start to go limp. “No one would fault me for it.”

The gunman leveled his weapon for a shot to wound, finger dropping to the trigger.

“Nicely done,”Eric kicked the unconscious man towards the gunman and leapt out of the way as the pistol fired.

In the enclosed space the sound was deafening, and the gunman hadn’t expected his partner to come falling at him. The bullet punched through the door a good foot to the right from where Eric had been standing.

Time slowed and Eric slipped into a familiar groove. His hand lashed out, grasping the wrist holding the gun and twisting it up in the air and then back toward the shooter. His other hand balled into a fist and slammed into the now exposed ribs. With a squelched cry of pain the gunman released the gun and was pushed a step back.

Eric pointed the gun at his attacker, “Go for his gun and you get a bullet in your knee.”

“You’re not going to kill me?” The gunman tried and failed to sound tough.

“Dead men tell no tales,”he smiled. “Who sent you?”

“I did,” a voice said from the shadows.

Eric turned to see a fist flying toward his face. He pulled back and it passed just by his ear. Too late he realized it was a distraction. The hand holding the gun twisted at a painful angle and involuntarily opened. The firearm dropped from his grip and the man caught it.

Eric dodged back waiting for the next attack. It didn't come.

“You’re good,” Eric fell into a defensive stance looked at the three invaders.

“You were napping." The large man straightened. Unlike the others he was dressed in dark gray and deep purple, body covered in kevlar and his face masked and hooded. “Put your hands down. If I wanted you dead I would have slit your throat while you were asleep.”

He looked to the soldier beside him and nodded, handing him back his side arm. He took it and saw to his fallen comrade.

"I read in the paper that you were released." He lifted his head, regarding Eric with those white eyes. The faint light caught a smile, creasing his mask. "I felt compelled to visit."

“I would have prefered a fruit basket with a nice card,” Eric was backed into a corner, literally. This was not good. “It’s a nice gesture among complete strangers.”

"I prefer to make an impression. This is a dangerous city, perhaps particularly where men such as ourselves are concerned." He reached to his side and pulled the pistol that was strapped to his belt. It spun in his palm and he caught it by the barrel, it's handle dangling down. He lifted it and held it toward Eric. "I'll offer this as a gesture from a complete stranger. A sign of good faith, if you will."

”Not that I don’t appreciate the gesture, but ex-cons can’t have guns,” Eric tapped a dagger at his belt. He paused for a moment and then drew one, holding it with the hilt toward Ranger. ”I’m more of a blade man, myself. Can’t hit the broad side of a barn with one of those.”

"You're not any ex-con, Mr. Duvall. Highwayman." Ranger dropped the pistol back into its holster. "You did something great for this fallen city. You took the steps that the police were unwilling to take. Even those who pretend to mete justice beyond the constraints of the law shrink from taking those actions truly necessary on their farcical crusade."

The man shook his head. "Overseas, young men and women fight and bleed and die protecting the right and good. We congratulate them. Perhaps not as often as we should, but we do." He reached forward and placed a hand on Eric's shoulder. "You did what needed to be done here at home, and for that you were rewarded by being incarcerated where you should have been commended. And for that, I am sorry."

This close he had a chance, his dagger was still in his hand, a simple flip and thrust. Take down this guy and the other two would come along nicely.

”What do I call you?”

"They call me Ranger."

”I’m not a hero, Ranger.” Eric kept his face blank, took a calming breath and slid the dagger back into the sheath. ”I’ve got more blood on my hands then the papers tell you.”

"No, you're not. Neither am I. There are few heroes in the world, if any," he replied. "There are people who will do what is right, people who will do what is wrong. People who will stand up and people who will turn away."

He reached back and withdrew an arrow from the quiver that hung on his back. The sharp broadhead turned and caught the light revealing an almost pinkish tint to its silver. "The right path isn't usually a pretty one, Highwayman, and rarely paved in gold."

Ranger returned the arrow to its place. "War doesn't happen only outside our borders. It's here, right here at home. Aren't those battles worth fighting too? Doesn't our home deserve that same dedication?" He pulled his hood back, though the mask remained in place. "Garrison is a city in crisis- beyond crisis, maybe. I think you recognize that. It takes people who are willing to walk that bloody path. It takes men like you and me to fight for it."

"What’s your plan?” A mad dash for power once Messina was dead pushed things in a dark direction. For that he was responsible.

"I have been building a force." Ranger put a hand on the shoulder of one of his shoulders. It was now that Eric realized just how young the man looked. "Young men and women from this city, willing to train and take up arms and fight to take back their city. They know that means everybody from the lowest gang member right up the ladder to the well cushioned men like Gorgio Messina." His gaze fell back on Eric, "They're eager, and quick learners. But I'm just one man. I need people who are experienced, ready to help lead them forward and show them the way. They need examples to look up to.

They need people like you, Highwayman."

Highwayman nodded,”Can I have some time to think this over? I see what you’re saying but being seen as Highwayman would send me back to prison.” He pulled at the collar of his suit. ”I’m getting some fresh gear but I have to lay low until then.”

"We have gear. And we can teach you how to be a proficient with several weapons, including firearms." He gestured to the two soldiers. They straightened, saluted, and slipped out as quietly as they had come. "We have a lot to offer, Highwayman."

He reached into a pouch that hung from his belt and retrieved a card. "Think it over." He offered the card over. "I hope you make the right decision."

”I’ll be in touch,” Highwayman offered his hand. ”It was an honor.”

Ranger took the man's hand and shook it. "For me too. Watch your back."

Ranger stepped back into the shadows of Eric Duvall's apartment and disappeared without a sound.

---

Highwayman adjusted his new jacket and hat, letting the weight of the knives become natural to him. Tailor had come through with a new mask, hat, and jacket. His new mask had an open mouth portion and he didn't have the panic attacks that the old full face one inspired, the only downside being that since it was a rush job the mask was slightly purple. His hat was dark gray and had a flat wide-brim which he thought looked pretty cool. The jacket was a long coat with hidden caches for throwing knives on his chest and a quick-draw sheath on each forearm. On the downside it was purely aesthetic and didn't have any armor beyond being leather. The wind on the rooftops tugged at the wide-brimmed hat and splayed the buttoned coat out behind him like a cape, the Tailor knew his stuff.

Tonight the plan was simple, head toward the Lourds and try to scope out Ranger and his men. In the past few days they hadn’t bothered to case his place but having someone violate his home like that made him realize how unsecure it truly was. Ranger and his recruits had just strolled right in. If they hadn’t been looking to enlist him things could have gone very differently. Before he gave an answer he had to see what this plan was in action, what it looked like without the speeches and grand idea.

One way or another he needed to get this business resolved. Where could he get more cash? He doubted that working for Ranger would bring in a lot of money. Battle for right and wrong rarely considered the fiscal matters at hand. Going after the mob was his ultimate goal but his lack of current information could get him killed. He smiled as he looked out at the group of toughs, gathering some intel from low-life pushers and dealers could bring in some extra cash.

Vaulting over the side of one building and landing on a fire escape, he began to climb to a proper vantage point to get a look at the street below. The alleyways and side-streets were popular for the thugs of the Lourds and Ranger said something about a war on crime.

He watched the street below as a few thugs wearing the same colors loitered in an alleyway. They weren’t doing anything illegal from what he could see and no rangers in sight. From the other side of the street he could see a few more color coded toughs heading toward the first group.

He couldn’t help but watch them; there was something just not quite right about them. The two of them looked the same as the others, mostly, but their clothes were a bit too neat while trying to look messed up. This might pay off.

Tweedle Dee and Dum turned the corner and saw the other three. From the rooftop the words were lost but the intent seemed friendly. Dee and Dum joined the stooges, Larry (the one wearing a bandana), Curly (the one with a shaved head) and Moe (because that was the only name left) and started to loiter in the alleyway as well. Something was being passed between them, it was wrapped in a paper bag which just screamed class.

Even passing the bottle between the group Dee and Dum stuck out just enough to catch his interest. New members or rangers playing dress-up, the odds were even. The small group began to move and Highwayman followed. Dee and Dum were leading the stooges somewhere but the trio had drunk so much they weren’t aware.

That feeling that something wasn’t right was getting stronger. Highwayman ran ahead to scope out the area and found their current path would lead them to a dimly lit parking lot. Three cars were parked around the lot and it was surrounded by buildings no taller than four stories. It was a decent location for an ambush and the tweedles were leading the stooges right into it.

There were two options now, see if the ambush happens and follow the attackers or intervene. There were too many variables, Dee and Dum could be from another gang or have no ill intent at all.

---

It was a character flaw, or at the very least a habit she needed to break, but there were some nights when Sylph just needed to move. After talking and planning and worrying and talking some more, it felt good to be out doing something. Her partner understood. There were bad things out there that were completely unconnected to Ranger. But that didn't make them any less important. People would rest easier, feel safer, because they were out patrolling tonight. And that was what Sylph needed.

Taking to the rooftops, she let Kardiac take the alleyways as they made their way along a promising looking block. There was activity on the street below and she wanted a good view before she jumped in to hit things. But as the breeze tossed strands of hair across her invisible face, it became clear that there was something to watch up here as well as down below.

At first glance, the figure could have been mistaken for Mid-Night Man, the long coat and hat had stylistic similarities. Creeping a little bit closer, Faith watched the man as he moved. He definitely wasn't Corin, but there was something familiar about the way he held his shoulders.

And he was fast. She took off after him as ran, moving silently and trusting the sound of his footsteps to cover any slips on her part. When he paused again to watch the figures on the ground, she stood nearby, chewing on a fingernail through her glove as she tried to figure out who he reminded her of.

---

The sound of his feet echoed across the rooftops.

No.

That wasn't an echo. He paused and looked over the edge of the building, taking time to inspect the street below. An empty alleyway was quite interesting, he had missed three years worth of graffiti. He crossed his arms to cover the motion of unbuttoning his jacket. With the top two undone he was able to slip a throwing knife into each hand.

He had to play this carefully, attacking another costumed hero would make getting information rather hard. In the real world trusting someone after a fight wasn't exactly the easiest thing to do. Still, he smiled, a warning shot would suffice.

Spinning, he pulled two throwing knives and centered in on his target... an empty rooftop. Self consciously he tucked the throwing knives away but left his coat unbuttoned, he might not have the extra time once things got interesting.

"I guess I'm a little rusty," Highwayman nervously took off his hat, spun it in his hand, and replaced it on his head.

Faith didn't waste time gaping at him in shock or pausing to second guess herself. She was right. And before the hat had settled fully onto his head, she was on him. The quick, invisible attack had him pressed up against the wall, her sticks crisscrossed over his throat in a matter of seconds. It was, perhaps, not the best way to greet a friend she hadn't seen in years. But if that friend was doing something less than law abiding and screwing up a second chance...

"Tell me you're not being stupid right now," she demanded, ready to gently choke some sense into him if she had to. She reappeared before him, glaring up at him through the teal tinted lenses in her mask. "Or at least if you are, that you're being smart about being stupid."

"Faith," Highwayman wheezed. "Good to see you. No, really, for a moment there I thought I was going crazy. Nice suit."

"Isn't it though?" She eased off his throat a little so he could properly admire the uniform then shook her head. "And it's Sylph out here."

"Now, what was it you said?" He rubbed his throat. "Am I doing something stupid? No, I'm trying to be smart about things. I need to know what's going on in the city. I was kind of out of touch for a while."

The redhead looked away, a frown furrowing her brow. "I should have come to see you as soon as I read about your release. It just seemed so... awkward." She bit her lip. "The new costume is nice and all. It's just... you just got out. I don't want to see you go back."

"It's ok, I get the awkward. I almost called you but, well, you know." He adjusted his hat. "Thanks, I needed a new look, I don't want to go back to prison and for your information I haven't done anything yet. Tonight was simply to get the lay of the land. I don't want to go off half-cocked... again."

She looked up at him for a long moment, refamiliarizing herself with his face... the part of it she could see, and trying to mesh the man she saw before her with the one in her memories. "It's a good plan and I'm sorry I jumped on you." A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Though I suppose it's not the worst welcome home you could receive."

"No, that one has already happened. A couple of kids playing soldier and a guy with a bow fetish broke into my house."

Her eyes widened. "You're right. That is the worst." Looking him up and down, she did her best to push aside the anger she felt. Ranger was turning up everywhere. "You don't look wounded... but you're not sporting the fashionable ranger-wear. So what happened?"

"Ah, so you've met him? I did what any person would do after getting out of prison. I asked for a rain check," he laughed. "You should have heard his speech, it was all star and stripes, patriotism, and close your eyes and think of England. If I hadn't heard six different protection speeches while I was locked up I might have taken the offer." He shrugged. "That and he broke into my house on my first night home." He huffed. "Do you know how much money I spent on that bed? How many times I fantasized about that Egyptian Cotton?"

Faith couldn't help but laugh. "At least he didn't leave you bleeding on your own carpet." She let the moment of lightness linger for a moment before reaching out to take Eric's arm. "But be careful. Please. It's easy to underestimate Ranger. He's..."

She looked past her friend to the dark city beyond them. Ranger was turning it into a war zone. And now, even though she would have wished for a quiet return to the city for him, Eric was caught up in it as well. But he didn't have to be alone. "I know it's a lot to ask, and I'd never break into your house to ask it, but would you mind talking to some friends of mine? You know, just to compare notes and stuff."

"Sure, but I'm not sure how much I can help. I spoke to him, he did his little speech, gave me a card, and then he was gone." He held up the slip of paper. "If it were me I would have given a disposable number. Of course if you've got some tracing software or some satellites you might be able to get a location."

---

From a rooftop not too far away, a pair of green goggles whirred slightly as their limited telescopic capabilities were activated. The man wearing the goggles crossed his arms, a frown forming on his bearded face. He watched the would-be-reformed felon and his partner dance their dance, ready to move at the drop of a pin. His eyes narrowed as they began to move, tapping his comm once on her frequency. What would sound like a chirp of static to someone unschooled in their private code would alert Faith that he was nearby... watching.

---

Faith gave a shake of her head, a motion that could simply have been brushing her hair out of her eyes-- or an invitation to her partner to join her. "I'm not expecting you to produce a magic address. You said you wanted to get a lay of the land. I just think that information sharing, along with meeting your neighbors, is a really good way to do that." She smiled at Eric. "You were kinda alone last time. It doesn't have to be that way anymore."

"That sounds good to me," He smiled. "I'm trying to go hero. Do you think the others will play nice?"

"I don't think that 'playing nice' would qualify as our responsibility," said a voice from behind the Highwayman. The speaker seemed to have materialized from the shadows atop the building. "That prerogative would belong to you." The verdant vigilante's tone was deliberately hardened to test the willingness or willfulness of the receiver of his words.

While he was willing to put another potential problem on his face for the good of his partner, Kardiac was actually hoping he wouldn't have to this time... hoping that this one, unlike the last, was capable of learning from his mistakes. Nevertheless, his bio-energy was shifting to the muscles in his arms and torso even as he spoke, preparing for the inevitable.

"Kardiac?" Highwayman did a double-take at the electric legend. "I kind of thought you were a myth."

The dagger-slinging rogue adjusted his stance to look at both Sylph and Kardiac. He held his hands neutrally by his sides, from the tales told on the inside the fuse on the biological taser was a short one.

"I made a mistake," he paused and took a deep breath. "You have no reason to trust me, you don't know me from Adam, but I thought he killed my father. The police reports, word on the street, everything pointed to Messina burning my father alive." He cleared his throat at the sudden tightness that had snuck in.

"I don't know if you can relate but I had to have revenge. Not simply killing him, I had to destroy him, discredit him in the eyes of his peers, and when he was at his lowest point, then I would have vengeance. It blinded me and his death caused a lot of problems I was too short-sighted to even imagine. I'm going to do what I can to set it right and backup would be awesome."

Kardiac frowned, crossing his arms in front of him. "'Thought' isn't 'knew'," he said, gruffly. "We don't hand out judgment without undeniable proof." He walked over to stand directly next to Sylph, putting his left hand on her right shoulder, as one might do to a protege. "And take it from me, kid, killing isn't justice... it's just killing."

"Did you miss the part where I turned myself in for murder?"

"And it will find a way to bite you on the ass," he added, his eyes locked on the young vigilante's. "There isn't a body in this city who knows that better than me. And if you're planning on operating in my city associating with me or mine, it's a lesson that better have sunk in deep."

"The first night the door to your cell closes and the lights go out is a pretty big eye-opener. I wasn't on vacation sipping on a fruity drink and watching the sunset these past few years, I was in prison due to my own confession,"HIghwayman crossed his arms and looked from Kardiac to Sylph.

"And now that you're out, that whole murder thing has turned you into a prime recruit for our crossbow wielding buddy. You paid your debt in prison... but it's still coming back to bite you out here." The redhead gave a sad little smile. "And it's probably going to keep on coming back for longer than you'd like."

"It's kind of hard to sell I'm going to be non-lethal carrying these," Highwayman tensed his wrists and the daggers hidden along his forearms popped into his grip. He flipped them around to presenting them to the duo. "Any chance you got something I could replace them with?'

In a movement that was less than smooth he slipped them back into their hidden sheaths. He smiled sheepishly at them, "it's a new setup."

Faith glanced up at Eddy. He hadn't knocked anyone out yet. That meant that Eric showed promise... or something. "If you don't want to be lethal, you won't be. No matter what you're using," she told him. "But if you're not opposed to meeting our friends, I'll pass this little meeting on to them."

"That sounds fine to me. How do I get in touch?"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, but you don't. Ranger's watching you, remember? But don't worry." A small, mischievous smile tugged at her lips. "You wouldn't be doing this if you startled easily. Just... watch your shadows."

Pausing, she gave her partner a little nudge with her shoulder. "Am I forgetting anything?"

Kardiac's face was a stoic mask. "Just one thing: I'm all for second chances... but I don't do 'thirds,'" he said, flatly. "You want to do this, then you've got your shot... but do not make me regret it." He didn't say anything else, his look conveying the unspoken 'or you will' that seemed to be dangling in the momentary silence.

Highwayman opened his mouth for a smart remark but decided against it, "I appreciate the chance."

Highwayman held out his hand, "it was an honor."

When her partner made no move to take Eric's hand, Faith moved forward. "Gee, I missed you too," she teased. She wasn't going to let him feel bad about the way things had gone tonight. As far as she was concerned, it had been a success. "But we've got places to be. And I'm sure you do too."

He pulled his hand back, "I got the info I need. See you around."

With that he turned back the way he came and retraced his path along the rooftops.

"Such a charming personality," he added, under his breath, when he was three blocks away.

[The Draoi]

Adjusting the heavy bag of cash in his left hand, Highwayman knocked on the door and waited. The back door entrance to the Third Street Homeless Shelter didn't look like much but the alley containing it was surprisingly clean. The workers here cared and little things like a cleaning up gave signs of true charity. This had become one of his favorite spots to donate his loot due to the goodwill the workers gave so freely. The shelter helped about three hundred people a day get a meal and double that with a bed at night. Every dollar was appreciated and they didn’t ask questions to a masked man with a bundle of unmarked bills which made things alot easier for everyone.

"One moment," the familiar voice of Gary, one of the night workers called back.

It was mere moments before the door opened. Greg was a solid man, he had to be to work nights at a homeless shelter, but he had caring brown eyes which he used to defuse a bad situation more often than his impressive biceps.

"Busy night?" Highwayman asked holding up the bag.

"No," Greg shook his head.

These little moments of interaction were something Highwayman had started to look forward to. He could see the good that the money was doing. More food, new blankets, and more workers, the changes went into effect incredibly quick.

"What's going on?"

"Ten more are missing," Gary shrugged helplessly.

"How many is that?"

"Nineteen."

"I'll look into it," Highwayman put down the bag. "Any leads?"

"There's talk about Old Garrison but it dries up whenever a worker gets close."

"Undercity and sewers," Highwayman sighed."Awesome."

"No one else will help," Gary waved a hand at the scantily stocked room behind him. "These people don't get attention from the cops, they're already missing."

"I'll see what I can find."

Like many cities Garrison was built atop the ruins of the old streets. Up until a few years ago there were a number of buildings were given tours through the more architecturally important buildings, other people gave less than kosher tours through the empty streets. From what he heard those tours also dried up shorty too, something scared them away. Unfortunately it was mostly forgotten these days and he couldn't imagine what the place would look like after the storms.

Highwayman climbed up the fire-escape and began the trek across the rooftops. He missed his motorcycle but that had been sold to pay for his new suit, part of it anyway. Custom made armor wasn't cheap and his new charitable ventures made it that much harder to pay off debts. The trip from the Lourds to the Old Bridge District would be a good warm up for whatever was waiting. Missing homeless people were rarely a good thing, no one missed them and they made easy targets, which unfortunately meant bad guys targeted them first. Test subjects, slave labor, and a few other options Highwayman didn't want to think of.

He wasn't one to spend a lot of time in the old city and tunnels under the streets, the only entrance he knew of was the tour spots. The Old Bridge District seemed to be in a constant state of revamping, trying to clean up the less classy neighbor of the tourist attraction of the New Bridge District. It was done so in less covert methods, tarps, tape, and barrels clearly notifying the construction spots instead of temporary walls to block out the work. There were two tour locations in the tourist section but the one in Old Bridge was more accessible for the lost of society, like the homeless people hoping the rumors were true or a masked man desperately praying his fears were wrong.

---

Highwayman paused, the scene ahead was not one he had expected. Three groups of six people were working on clearing out rubble. They worked in concise and efficient teams and upon closer inspection the clothes were better than he expected, patched instead of ragged, and even reinforced along the knees and elbows.

Someone was organizing.

Sticking to the shadows he snuck by the work teams. Shortly after he came into a vast chamber and found himself looking over an underground metropolis. From the rubble and ruins arose something reminiscent of a medieval village complete with huts, farms, what looked to be a blacksmith, and a stronghold in the center. Looking down at the scene he could see that it was laid out in a wheel-spoke pattern with all the byways leading to the big building in the middle.

It looked like he was going to storm a castle.

He tucked his hat lower on his head and slipped in among the buildings. There were people everywhere but no one looked malnourished or abused. For some reason he couldn’t just turn around and give a positive report, something was bothering him and he was sure the answers would be in the castle.

The villagers moved with purpose and each worked at some sort of project. It was impressive to see everyone move with such dedication and it also made sneaking around a lot easier. As he neared the gate he found the entrance unguarded.

Highwayman pressed himself against the wall, sticking with stealth over bravado. If things went bad he was outnumbered and he wasn’t looking for a fight.

Whoever designed the corridors was as straightforward as the village. Simple but solid hallways leading to one easily defended choke point. He almost expected to see armored knights standing at attention but once more the doors were unguarded.

Cautiously he approached the door, checking to make sure he was alone before opening it.

“Welcome.”

And then Highwayman’s world went dark.

---

Riordan laughed slightly as washed Martin, the young toddler he had been caring for, in the tub. He was glad he changed into some old jeans and a tank top rather than keeping his "work" clothes on as Martin definitely was a fan of sharing the water.

"And then his eight year old daughter opens her closet to show me the monster, and there really is a monster! That's the kind of thing you joke about or make cartoons about but I mean I wasn't expecting her to be right on the money about that. The thing was a thing to see for sure Marty, we're talking tentacles, more eyes than you can shake a stick at, and that's not mentioning the occasional fiery belch. Well it turns out that her grandmother had made a deal to become famous by promising her first female descendant's fealty to some demon's spawn. Luckily the monster was more interested in having a buddy than a snack."

Riordan laughed again.

"Luckily her aunt was really cute or else the whole thing really wouldn't have been worth it as they didn't really have a dime to their name." The mage shrugged with a smirk.

Riordan lifted the baby out of the tub and drained the water. He wrapped him in a towel and took him back to his room, which was still covered with monstrous statues and books that had moving eyes on the cover. He changed him and placed him in his crib.

"No one ever told me having a roommate would be so much work." He laughed as he flopped onto the couch.

Suddenly the sound effect from the shower scene in 'Psycho' rang throughout the room.

"Gah, I have got to change that." Riordan said rolling his eyes. He got up with a groan, and gestured towards his bag, which was across the room, and it flew to him instantly. He was barefoot so he threw on some shoes and grabbed his staff on the way out the door.

He wandered outside and he managed to locate what had caused his magical wards to go off, what or more appropriately who had threatened his home.

He found a man in all dark garb with an old fashioned hat, his wards had used the available materials (grass, plants, trash, etc.) to bind the man to the side of his brownstone, as they bound him they changed growing magically thicker and stronger.

"Well who knew? Carmen Sandiago is in town and out for my blood... seems like something I would be aware of..." He smirked.

"Your death will ensure my place in his court," his voice carried no inflection or emotion. "The Goblin King will be restored."

"The Goblin King eh? Fancy."

The Mage stepped over some of the unearthed roots and got very close to Highwayman. He began to rummage through his bag, until he came upon a small statuette of a robed woman, which would have been totally unremarkable except for the fact the the back of her head had been hollowed out, as if someone had taken a melon-baller to it.

"Now I just got this and I'm not exactly sure it'll do the trick but let's give it a whirl."

He held the odd statuette up to the captive brainwashed hero and muttered some words in Greek.

Suddenly the hole in the back of the small stone woman's head lit up, as did her eyes. A wide beam of light beamed into Highwayman's eyes and began to transmit a wide array of images moving at a speed where they were unperceivable to the naked eye.

When the light finally faded, and Riordan had put the statue back in his bag, Highwayman's eyes cleared.

HIghwayman blinked once. Twice. And then realized he was hanging upside down. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, and then opened it again before once more closing it.

"Please tell me I'm still wearing my pants."

Riordan gave the other hero an odd look.

"Yes, yes you are and I would appreciate if you kept them on." He laughed before waving his hand casually, causing Highwayman's restraints to dissipate.

"I have no idea how I got here or who you are," he dusted himself off and adjusted his hat. "Am I still in Garrison City?"

"You do know, you're just confused. The statue I just used to clear your mind was a statue of Mnemosyne; goddess of memory. She took your memories, your life, and replayed it back for you without illusions or manipulations. Just the truth of what happened as it happened. You just need to breathe and remember; it's all in there."

Riordan said pointing to the other man's head.

"Take the last thing you remember clearly and go from there."

"Ah, yes, the statue, of course,"Highwayman nodded. "What are you talking about?"

Riordan got an amused look on his face and stood back.

"Heh." The Mage rolled his eyes, "You know I'm just trying to help here, trying to be patient, but you gotta try too because in the end you are some stranger who attacked my home with my young friend asleep in his crib no less, so if we're not two guys working through a mystery than that forces me to be one guy dealing with an attacker and you don't want to meet that guy." Riordan smiled with a twinkle in his eye, "So let's try this again, what is it exactly you remember?"

"You're lucky I'm on probation," the rogue huffed. "I was looking into the missing homeless people and followed a lead into Old Garrison. I found a village with a keep built from the rubble, it kind of looked like something out of a fantasy novel." Highwayman nodded. "I can remember everything, wow. Okay, I snuck into the keep and found the throne room." He cringed. "The guy was ugly, there was something wrong with his face, we're talking Two-Face without the good half of the face. The animated version, not the new one by Nolan, I liked it but those were burn marks." He took a breath. "I looked in his eyes and I couldn't move. He told me to come stand before him and I did. He told he was the rightful heir to the Goblin Throne and he would regain his crown but something was blocking his magic. He needed me to remove the cause and he showed me this house, your face. He showed it to me in the air. With magic?" He looked at Riordan. "Magic is real?"

"Yes Virginia." Riordan smirked as he removed his cellphone from his satchel. "Cal, could you pop over and watch Martin for a bit? Yeah I know. Okay. Thanks so much." He hung up the phone and put it back in his bag.

"Okay time to go goblin hunting."

---

Riordan stifled a chuckle at the sight of the medieval style little town that welcomed them.

"What is it about goblins? He said finally giving in to a bit of a laugh. "This is some pretty hardcore LARPing if you ask me."

"It's a shame," Highwayman sighed. "I doubt they'd work this well together without some sort of enchantment."

"That's the rub about magic, it's never black and white. Never evil or good, at least not totally. It's also never clean, so even after they're free maybe some of this will stay with them. Give them a new perspective or teach them something."

The rogue nodded thoughtfully,"How do we do this without punching innocent people? I don't think breaking bones would exactly count as a good thing on a mission of charity." He sighed again. "I really need a paying gig."

"Preaching to the choir sister friend." Riordan sighed with a grin, "Well so far they are not attacking us and from what you told me, they never attacked you last time, they just let you enter Barbie's dream castle over there. So maybe it won't be a problem, if it becomes one? We'll improvise, I've got a few trick up my sleeve."

Highwayman pulled out a set of zip-cuffs,"should we give them the old prisoner transfer?"

"By your inflection I can tell you're trying to make a funny here. I commend you." Riordan patted Highwayman on his shoulder.

"Right," he pantomimed putting on the cuffs."We put these on you loosely to make it look like I've taken you captive. Then we walk into the castle and ta-da you pop out your hands and pull out a carnivorous rabbit or something."

"That should work nicely actually."

"How are we going to deal with the fact that he can hypnotize me with a look?"Highwayman asked as he put on the cuffs.

"He can't actually. You're mind has already figured out that trick. You know have awareness of your time under his spell, he can't put you under again. You've just got to play dumb. I have faith in you." Riordan smirked.

"We don't know each other well enough for you to be so confident in that remark."

The Draoi nodded seriously, "You're right, you could be absolutely terrible at playing dumb, I shouldn't have put so much pressure on you. Shall we?" Riordan laughed gesturing with his restrained hands towards the castle.

Highwayman grabbed the mouthy mage by the collar and began to pull him along. They headed straight down the middle of the street and he tugged every now and then just to sell the ruse. Taking the direct route was a lot shorter than sneaking around and the unguarded door to the castle was within sight in a couple of moment. The villagers that they saw didn't even bother looking up as they passed.

"I don't like this," he muttered pulling along the mage.

"Yeah well if I didn't sense impending doom I would think I was having an off day." Riordan smiled, "It's going to get good."

Highwayman dropped back into the silent minion roll and pushed open the heavy door. He stepped through first just to make sure it was clear and then pulled Riordan through.

The two heroes entered the small castle-like structure, there almost waiting for them was the hunched, ugly figure that Highwayman had described. He looked at them with an alternating expression of glee and anger.

"You were to kill him!"

"But your majesty, if he had done that how would we ever have come together today? I assured your fine footman here that it would be far more beneficial for his highness to arrange a meet and greet shall we say?"

"How dare you condescend to me!"

Riordan fell to the ground, seemingly in pain.

"Ugh, you're power is too strong, the aura of magic that surrounds you is eating at my own... please mercy..." He moaned in seeming agony but managed to slowly stand once more.

The Goblin King stood still. He seemed conflicted, and at a loss for words before his arrogant anger resumed.

Riordan reached for his bag.

"Stop!"

"It's okay, I'll get rid of it." Riordan slid his bag across the floor, where it came to rest roughly on the other side of the King, accidentally spilling a few items as it stopped.

Riordan was still shaking and stooped, he limped a bit as he walked around the Goblin King, he only got a few feet before falling again.

"Enough of this! I know full well your power rivals my own, which is why I had the interloper deal with you!"

At this Riordan popped into a standing position clearly not weakened or ill at all.

"Rivals? Please, don't make me laugh! Triangulum arma de potentia!"

Suddenly with a crackle of energy, three bright electric blue beams of light burst forth from the two spots where Riordan "fell" and where his bag lay. They met in the air forming a pyramid of energy around the Goblin King.

"Well that was anti-climatic," he crossed his arms and looked at the mage. "Clever but anti-climatic."

Riordan was about to respond when the Goblin starting shrieking, a horrible at turns guttural and glass breaking scream. He threw himself roughly against the sides of the force fields leaving bloody marks along the shimmering "walls".

Soon the castle was flooded with the workers from outside. They too shrieked and were wild in their movements. They lunged and swiped at both The Draoi and Highwayman.

The two expandable police batons popped into Highwayman's waiting hands as the throng of workers came rushing in. He tried to take them down as gently as possible, sweeping legs and just bruising skulls instead of cracking them.

"I don't," he ducked a wild swing and flooded an attacker with a kick to the gut. "Suppose you know how to fight?"

Riordan rolled his eyes as he jumped upwards using the shoulders of two oncoming attackers to push himself higher and cause them to collide as he kicked his feet outwards hitting two more.

"We need to get one of them, and get outside and bar the door."

"Just one?" Highwayman knocked the feet out from under a villager and and spun to snag one in a headlock. "I've got a volunteer."

The Draoi smiled as he dodged a wild hit from another of them, "Good. He turned and gestured for him bag, which lifted up in the air and flew to him of its own accord. He then raised his hand towards the door.

"Zephyrus ikanopoio..." Suddenly a wind picked up and blew all of the people backwards creating a path to the exit.

"That won't last long, haul ass." Riordan snapped leaping for the door.

"Could I work with the magical guy with an invisibility cloak? No, that'd be too easy," Highwayman grumbled as he pulled the flailing captive along.

Once the three of them were outside, Riordan slammed the doors shut behind them.

"We've gotta find something to push in front of here."

"Hold him," Highwayman pushed the captive toward Riordan and then turned to the door.

He pulled a handful of zip-cuffs from his pocket and ties the two doors together, "That will buy us a second." He looked around. "A castle like this has to have those tall torch things."

"It is pretty authentic for a castle built by homeless people in the bad part of town." Riordan laughed as he held on to the struggling brainwashed worker.

He looked around and and saw a tall torch far way off, towards the roof.

"Over there. Hold him." Riordan shoved the man into Highwayman's arms and leaped at the castle, kicking off the side to propel himself higher, and threw his satchel towards the torch. It wrapped around the long staff of the torch of its own accord and soon both flew back to Riordan's hands as he landed on the ground. He quickly smothered the flames in the ground. He shoved the torch through the door handles and took a deep breath.

"Ok, the door is barred and we have a lovely assistant," Highwayman twisted the homeless volunteer into an armlock. "Now what?"

Now you Mister Non-Believer are gonna help me do a magic spell."

"I didn't mean I was the lovely assistant."

"No, you're not a ten but I'll make do." Riordan smirked. He placed his bag on the ground, "I could use Mnemosyne again but that would only free him, and while nice would really be more of a lateral move. " He said somewhat patronizingly as he patted the homeless man on the head.

"No, no, I gotta bring down the whole house of cards. We... We gotta bring it down."

"By your inflection I can tell you're trying to be funny here. I commend you."

"Well, well Stagecoach... there's hope for you yet."

Riordan rummaged through his bag and removed a large silver locket. The locket itself hung from a handful of thin simple silver chains, was spherical in shape and had lunar patterns engraved on its face.

The mage took hold of their captive's arm as he began to rhythmically swing the locket.

"Now I will become the bridge between us, or more precisely you, who will represent the earthly plane and the Goblin King representing the moon in reverse, as a bringer of deception and illusion. Nod your head and smile." Riordan grinned, still swinging the locket in front of the now mesmerized hostage.

"Trust me, that I can do," Highwayman nodded slowly. "Just tell me what to do."

"Just breathe and take things one thing at a time."

Riordan kept swinging the locket and he locked eyes with their hostage.

Highwayman watched and as he did so the Draoi seemed to fade away, just go out like a candle. Before he really even had time to process this, the world around him changed. The colors were more vivid, and suddenly there was a bright blue sky above them. The village was larger, more authentic and elaborate.

His hostage seemed fine now, perfectly happy and content, his clothes clean and expensive. There even seemed to be a happy song on the wind.

He looked around for the Draoi but he was nowhere to be seen.

"Where are you?"

The mage's laugh filled the area.

"Over hill, over dale, Thorough bush, thorough brier, Over park, over pale, Thorough flood, thorough fire. I do wander everywhere, Swifter than the moon’s sphere." He said lyrically.

"That is very helpful," he linked arms with the now compliant villager."What do you need me to do now? Follow the yellow brick road?"

The villager gently, but surprisingly successfully, wrung his arm free from Highwayman and walked swiftly off to the castle, which was now unblocked.

"No, follow him." Riordan's disembodied voice said. The hostage threw the doors open and the other now complacent villagers, also in much improved clothing and hygiene, sat around the Goblin King.

The Goblin King was much bigger than he had been, and far more grotesque. He now had large dragon wings and horns and growths all over his skin. He stood in the center, seemingly sleeping standing up.

Highwayman walked a few steps behind the villager and surveyed the scene. He halfway expected to be dressed in chainmail but all his gear was still the same. Looking around he still couldn't see where Roirdan was.

"Looks like this was a bad day to stop wearing my sword," he cautiously walked closer to the other villagers. "Now what?"

At the sound of his voice, the Goblin King awoke and lunged forward. His attack was somewhat clumsy and Highwayman dodged it pretty easily.

"Why do you want to ruin this?" The Goblin King's voice was normal now, both in inflection and sound. It was quite human, and almost sounded like a teenager. Before waiting for an answer, The Goblin King attacked again swing a monstrous tail he didn't have before.

The masked man hopped back as the tail whipped through the space his head had been a moment before, "can I fight this guy or will that ruin the spell?"

"No let him beat you to death, that'll really help the spell... Kick his ass already!"

"Blame it on all those Charmed episodes I've watched," the extendable batons dropped into his hands and he advanced on the Goblin King.

Highwayman swatted away another wild swing and chipped off a claw. The Goblin King screamed and brought the painful digit up to his face and popped it in his mouth.

"Don't get me wrong," he rushed in and brought both batons hard across the Goblin Kings exposed chest. "You've done something great here but sending me out to kill someone doesn't exactly speak highly of your intentions."

The rogue dodged a fail flip and noticed a few extra lines in the scaley skin of the regal goblin. Highwayman hopped out of the way of an oncoming blow and slammed down the batons and worked up the extended arm. The final blow at the shoulder unhinged the scaley limb and it crashed to the floor in chunks. Where the tree-trunk thick arm once was now protruded a very human and rather thin arm.

"I think I see where this is going," he said swiping and the large goblins spiked knee.

The Goblin King teetered for a moment and then toppled to the floor. The grump green giant flailed with his good arm and leg, to a lesser extent his tail too, but Highwayman easily avoided the wild blows and began to play the would-be king like a steel drum. Scale encrusted stone chunks flew from the impacts.

"Ok," a plaintive voice called. "Please... stop hurting me!"

Highwayman moved forward to see that through the chunks of rubble that had once been the Goblin King's ferocious hide, lay a young man no more than seventeen.

As soon as he had time to take this information in, he found the world swirling around him again. In an instant he was back outside, still holding the homeless worker forcibly in his hands with the Draoi still holding the silver locket in front of him.

"Could you hold him for a minute, I'm going to be sick," Highwayman pushed the homeless man toward Roirdan and stayed true to his word. "I am so glad I switched to an open faced mask."

"Charming." Riordan rolled his eyes. "If you're done tossing your cookies, shall we go check on everyone in the castle?"

"Is it an unwritten rule that all heroes in this town have to have sparkling personalities?"

"It's more a bonus."

Riordan had long since let their "hostage" go. he was confused and little scared but at least his mind was his own again.

The Mage and the rogue wandered over to the castle doors just as the homeless inside started to meander out. Mumbling and wide-eyed but normal again. The pair passed the crowd and entered the structure. Inside, still in the pyramid of energy, was the boy.

Riordan waved his hand and the energy vanished.

"Now what did we learn today?" The rogue asked wagging his finger at the youth.

"Don't play with dark magic?"

"Wrong," Highwayman shook his head. "Today's lesson was: If you brainwash me to try to kill someone for you I will beat you with my whomping sticks."

"I was just trying to... I don't know, make things better? No one cares about people like me, us." He said gesturing to the few scattered homeless who remained in the area, "I found this book while checking out a dumpster for food and I just thought: if I could be less weak, than imagine what I could do. But almost as soon as I started there were faces and voices and I didn't understand what I was saying or agreeing to..."

Riordan clasped his shoulder supportively.

"Magic isn't something you just play around with it is dangerous. It's often even more dangerous for the novice sorcerer than anyone else. What's your name kid?"

"Avery Miller."

"What happened to the book Avery?" His tone was gentle but direct.

"I destroyed it after I transformed, my thoughts were crazy, I was convinced if I didn't destroy it someone could use it like I did and rival my power... It's the same reason I sent him after you after I sensed you."

"You could cut back on the aftershave just a tad."

Riordan shot Highwayman a look before turning back to Avery.

"We're gonna make sure we get you some help. All of you."

---

Back at Riordan's brownstone, Riordan called to make sure that Avery was being seen by a counselor and getting some food.

"Well that was certainly interesting," He said turning back to Highwayman as he hung up the phone. "Next time you bring that kind of meshugaas into my life, there better be a payday at the end of it." the mage smirked.

"I'm working on being more charitable but that sounds like a good plan," Highwayman held out his hand. "Nice working with you."

"You too." He said shaking his hand.

"Just so that we're clear," the rogue said before turning away. "Are there any magical powers I might get after this encounter?"

"You may have gained the ability to deliver a decent comeback." Riordan grinned.

"That would sting a bit more coming from someone who had actually seen Star Wars." Highwayman smiled and began to scale the firescape alongside the building. "I would be doing you a favor by having a marathon and some pizza."

"Isn't that more of a fourth or fifth date thing?" Riordan called after him with a laugh.

From the rooftop came the faint sound of a raspberry being blown.

Riordan chuckled to himself as he turned back inside. He walked over to Martin's playpen, where the toddler giggled and bounced.

"Hey buddy, want to see a trick?" He played up the stage magician moves by checking his sleeves dramatically than with a flourish produced a lock of hair from his previously empty hand.

"Ta da!" He smiled, patting Martin's head with his free hand.

He continued smiling as he walked into one of his closets, with the palmed lock of hair. He turned on the closet light and got a box off of a higher shelf.

"It wasn't really that much of a trick, he was so confused and anxious he wouldn't have noticed if someone blatantly chopped half the hair off his head, but still its nice to stretch my sleight of hand skills every now and then."

He took something out of one of the many boxes in the closet; a small piece of thin rope. He took the rope and began to wrap it around the hair.

"By wind and flame, by sea and stone, I bind you Avery Miller, I bind you, I bind you, so I will it, so mote it be."

Riordan said rhythmically before placing the now tied hair in the box and closing it up and turning out the light.

[Daylight]

"What the hell are you on about you crazy bitch," he spat, "I am going to kill you!"

Anyssa laid the tip of her finger across his lips, "You will see things differently very soon." At her words, the lights in the room dimmed. Thrillkiller could hear her laugh as she backed away from him. The room darkened so much that he could no longer see anything around him. Then suddenly a pair of glowing blue eye formed right in front of his own. Nicholas screamed and then there was silence.

That was the last thing Nicolas Le Grange remembered of his mortal life. The next thing he knew, he was standing in front of a large silver throne. On it sat what looked like a bedazzled
Boris Karloff. The mummy zombie's milky white eyes seemed to stare straight through Nicolas.

On the left side of the throne was a giant pair of scales. One of the scales plates held a feather, and the other what looked like a human heart. The heart pulled the scale down, showing how much heavier it was than the feather.

"Your life has been found to be filled with misdeeds and evil," the zombie mummy wheezed, "you do not deserve the afterlife. You heart shall be eaten by Ammit," he looked down at what looked like a Frankenstein monster like creature with the head of a crocodile, "and your ba will cease to exist."

The monster lunged toward the scale and once again for Nicolas everything went black as he screamed.

He seemed to scream for a lifetime in the darkness.

"Please calm yourself Nicolas," a woman's voice rang in his ears, "you are no longer in danger."

The former Thrillkiller realized that he was on all fours in front of two people; the most beautiful woman he ever saw, and a teenage boy in Egyptian battle armor.

"Hello Nicolas," the woman said sweetly, "I'm sorry you had to go through all that but as much as I love my dear husband, he would not have allowed this."

"W-where am I?" Nicolas panted.

"You are still in the Underworld," the teenager folded his arms across his chest, "there was no easy way to sneak you out of my father's realm until certain conditions were..." he paused, a slight smirk played across his face, "met."

Nicolas looked up at the two. "W-what conditions?"

"You were lead by the nose and eventually killed by humans playing at being gods," she sat down in front of him and crossed her legs demurely, "I know what happened to you. I know the pain that was caused. I want to help you take revenge and your life back."

Nicolas pulled himself into a kneeling position. "Why would you help me?"

"Your life force was taken from you," Isis said in a motherly tone, "it was unfair, and I and my son are here to correct that."

"What my mother is saying mortal," Horus stepped forward, "we are offering to return you to the mortal world, and take revenge."

The man who was known as Thrillkiller looked up at the two gods and smiled. "What do you need me to do?"

---

Anyssia Sar-e Pol sat in luxury in her penthouse apartment. She looked out her bay window to the streets of Garrison below. Her thoughts wandered to her master Ak-Fet Sur, and where he was at this point. How far along in his plans was he? She smiled as she looked out the window. Soon, very soon her and her master would have these pathetic mortals on their knees.

Then her world was shattered. There was a flash of multicolored light behind her. The Champion of Set turned to see a circle of burned carpet, and a naked man kneeling in front of her.

The man lifted his head and smiled at Anyssa. "Hi honey, I'm home."

"You should not be here." Anyssa gasped as she recoiled away from Nicolas.

The newly returned man smiled as he stood to his full height. "Surprised to see me? I made a little deal with some friends of yours."

"I will send you back to the underworld," she snarled as the glass of wine in her hand dropped to the ground and shattered. "Johnny, attend me!"

A shuffling sound came from the next room as Anyssa's silent bodyguard entered the room.
"Ahhh," Nicolas smiled, "the shabti." He looked up at her face and the knowing horror that was growing on it. "Yes, a dear friend of mine told me all about what your little Johnny is. And," he snapped his fingers and a golden Kophesh materialized in it. With a simple swipe, he cut the bodyguard in half reducing it to clay, "I know how to get rid of him."

"Noooooooooooo!" The Champion of Set screamed. Her face became a mask of horror and rage as she fired a blast of sand at Thrillkiller powerful enough to strip the paint off of a car.

Thrillkiller was made invisible to Anyssa in sandstorm she herself had created. When finally she stopped, Anyssa expected to see Nicolas's skeleton laying in a pool of blood and flesh, but instead as soon as it died down, his hand wrapped around her throat.

"Not only am I back, I'm protected from your powers." He squeezed tighter on her neck. "My friends Isis and Horus gave me protection from the powers of a godly champion. You, Daylight, Mid-Night Man? None of you can harm me. But me?" He squeezed tighter and her head snapped backwards and her body turned to sand. "I can definitely hurt you."

Nicolas watched the last grains of sand fall lifelessly to the ground.

"Now to go reclaim my life," he wiped the sand from his hands, "and then claim Daylight's as well."

---

Jamie lay in bed in that spot halfway between being asleep and awake. Corin was off on a case with Roo and Faith, and called her and told her not to wait up. With what had happened with Garrett, even with the vacation, Jamie didn't sleep much lately. She rubbed her eyes and gave another heavy sigh. Just when she thought she would be spending another sleepless hour, her eyes shut like they were forced closed by an unseen hand.

The next thing Jamie knew she was floating in a white space, clad in her full Daylight costume in front of who could have only been...

"Ra?" Jamie's voice seemed to echo in the quiet of the nothingness.

"Hello my dear." Ra inclined his head. "Walk with me, we have much to discuss."

He waive his hand and the white space turned into a garden.

Ra placed his hand on Jamie's back and led her down the path that he had created.

"We are at a very dangerous time Jamie," Ra said walking Jamie through a maze of lotus flowers, "the worst enemies of the gods and of man have allied."

Jamie looked up at Ra, "What are you talking about?"

"Ak-Fet Sur has returned to the land of the living." Ra said darkly. His fingers slid across the petals of the lotus blossom.

"God," Jamie whispered, her hand covered her face.

"Sadly, your God has nothing to do with it my dear." Ra shook his head. "And now he has a mortal body, and an ally far greater than any other he could get."

"Who?" Jamie stopped cold about a step or two behind Ra.

"Apep, my greatest enemy. The true evil in this or any world." Ra rubbed his eyes with exhaustion.

"Apep?" Jamie said, her eyebrows knitted together, "I thought Set was the great evil?"

For the first time, Ra laughed. "No. Yes Set is a god of Chaos, but he has been one of the greatest protectors of Egypt since the ancient days."

"But that Anyssa," Jamie folded her arms, "she is the champion of Set and she is..."

"A human being Jamie," Ra nodded, "remember what I said when we first met," he sat down on a bench and beckoned her to join him, "once the power of the champion is given to a human it is their choices and their will that determines whether they are as you say, good or evil."

Jamie hesitated for a few moments. She stood staring at the god who sat at his leisure, before finally joining him. "So how do we beat this Apep?"

Ra sat thoughtfully for a few moments before answering. "I really don't know. Ak-Fet is gathering followers, worshipers to Apep. The only real chance we have, is for you to become a symbol yourself."

"What," Jamie said incredulously, "am I supposed to start the cult of Ra and start up sacrifices?"

Ra laughed again. "No, no. That ship has sailed on the gods and we know it. No you need to become a public symbol, someone that others can look up to. Be the hero that the people need.". Ra sat in silence for a while before continuing. "I put a lot on you shoulders my dear, and I wish I could help more, but there is only so much we can meddle in the affairs of mortals."

The sun god stood up and turned back to Jamie. "I know you haven't been sleeping well. Tonight, in this place you will rest. Beware though, I see the dreamer turning against the dream soon." with that he turned to walk away, but stopped short and turned around.
"I would ask the conjurer about Shu when you wake." He then disappeared leaving her alone in the garden.

[Highwayman]

"Couldn't you have worn something a little less flamboyant?" The older man said said with a sigh, as he took off his glasses to massage the bridge of his nose.

Riordan had worn his usual "business" attire, which included his vivid green vest, detailed with celtic dragon designs; that sometimes seemed to move.

"Listen do you want me to help you? Because doing a terrifying impersonation of my mother will not help your case." Riordan sighed himself, throwing his elbow over the back of the chair as he lounged back.

Riordan had been called to the man's office under the most top secret of conditions, which he knew meant big money. He currently sat inside Hilman "tower" the homebase for the famous 'Hilman and Hilman', the go to law firm for anyone who actually did it. It was well known as the legal representation of most of the city's organized crime bosses and all the white collar criminals one could imagine.

As soon as he arrived in the building he was ushered upstairs into the big office. He knew Hilmans was a family law firm but he hadn't expected to be meet with the whole clan. The boss Marshall Hilman, whose grandfather founded the firm in the first place, sat behind his great desk staring Riordan down and disparaging his clothes. Flanking their father was the man's oldest children, Hannah and her twin brother Carson, the younger son Sam stood behind Riordan. Carson's wife Pamela was also present lurking on Riordan's other side, peering over her glasses like a hungry vulture.

"Listen guys, I can be very helpful, not cheap but helpful, but you all are going to have to stop talking in circles and just tell me why you called me in?"

Hannah and her father locked eyes with each other for a brief moment.

"There is a darkness hanging over this family."

"You mean besides your clients?" Riordan joked, "I'm sorry, i couldn't resist, please continue."

Pamela made a disparaging sound at this but her father in law went on.

"My grandfather told me and my father things, strange things, about he came into his money and influence but we never believed him. Last month though, I had a heart attack. I was clinically dead for seven minutes. Seven minutes in Hell. Quite literally I assure you. There was a dark, immense figure, there was pain... pain beyond imagining. It felt like years, centuries, but it was just seven minutes."

"Dad." Sam started but his father waved him off.

"Ever since that time. Things have been happening to me and my family. We've been seeing things and we feel like someone is watching us, something is watching us, we feel it all the time." The man was visibly shaken, almost fragile, Riordan hadn't expected this of the cold and "evil" Marshall Hilman.

"Mister Hilman, what did your grandfather say to you? About the money?" Riordan said quietly but firmly, and without his usual mocking flair.

The older man sighed.

"He told us the story of growing up in poverty, thanks to his reverend father who wanted to live a pauper's life devoted to charity. This we already knew, he told everyone, usually in the same breath when he went on to say that his father died in a mansion. This time he ended the story differently though, he said that a man came to him with an offer. To grant him money and power and in exchange he would devote himself to helping certain people. This man claimed to be an angel who had been cast out by God for realizing the beauty in the material, in the now; over an unpredictable hereafter. My grandfather said that he agreed and more so promised his descendants service to the same bargain."

Riordan sighed, as he stood up.

"What dazzles, for the Moment spends its spirit: What's genuine, shall Posterity inherit." The mage mumbled under his breath as he began to pace.

"What was that?" Carson snapped.

"Nothing. A deal, eh? Do you have anything to go by? To prove that your grandfather was telling the truth?"

At this the entire family shared a small and tense look.

"Go ahead and show him, this is all nonsense anyways. Might as well get a laugh." Carson said flippantly. Hannah shot him a disapproving look.

"I love a good dose of nonsense."[/Riordan] Said smiling an unnervingly sincere smile at Carson. [Draoi]"Lead the way."

Marshall stood finally, and with noticeable difficulty. Hannah handed him his cane, he took with a small, almost imperceptible smile, and made his way to the office door.

"Billingsly!" Marshall shouted as the door swung open. Almost immediately a dapper young employee obediently popped over to the old man's side as his cane clearly was not sufficient. Riordan took note of the man's pride; he clearly needed a wheelchair or at least a walker but he refused to go any farther than getting a cane, and even though that wasn't working he refused to let a family member help him and instead used this sycophantic young assistant.

Riordan followed behind them, and Marshall's children plus Pamela followed even closer behind the mage. Which made for a very awkward elevator trip.

They reached the basement finally, after descending through the many floors of the tower. Instead of the dank, store room basements usually were; Riordan found himself in an elaborate pristine environment all centered around a majestic and immense set of steel doors.

"This is our vault." Hannah volunteered. "We have everything here, not just money. All our valuables. So I must warn you that you will be leaving your bag outside."

"Okay I'll leave it out here, actually I'll do you one better and leave it at my place... with me. Or do you want me to do my job? The bag stays with me. I'm not gonna ask you to trust me, because I'd rather you stay within your skill set and I stay in mine. You need me, and you know exactly what's in there... I do not." Riordan said confidently.

Marshall waved his daughter off.

"It's fine. Open the door Sam."

Sam muttered something about that being Billingsly's job but he punched in the code regardless, causing a hissing sound indicating the doors opening. The locks smoothly unhitched and the vault swung openly as stately as a slab of steel could. Beyond the walls were lined with lockboxes and the center of the room stood was a man dressed in a long coat, hat, and wearing a mask. In one of his hands was a collection of CD cases labeled with different names and the other was attempting to pick a lock. He was paused in mid-action looking, wide-eyed at the group standing on the other side of the door. His eyes traveled across each person now looking at him and then settled on Riordan.

"Fancy meeting you here," he chuckled.

Riordan didn't know whether to laugh or banish the gaudily dressed man into a mystic netherworld. He figured he'd know when it came out of his mouth.

"Well as you can see Mister Hilman, I take this job very seriously. Riordan turned back to the Hilmans, who were a mix of rage and shock, "I've even dispatched my assistant to scope the building for Persil Wards. They sometimes accumulate in the homes of the wealthy, only the most wealthy and powerful appeal to them though. I figured with the Hilmans there was bound to be an infestation. They will interfere with any help I can offer."

"How did he get into our vault? This is unbelievable!" Pamela shouted, and Riordan noticed a slight narrowing of Hannah and Sam's eyes when she said the word 'our'.

"I am a magician after all. You said the proof of your grandfather's deal was in here right?" Riordan waited for Marshall to weakly nod before jumping into another question, giving no time for any of the children to object once more, "Is this proof something not exactly natural? Something magical maybe?" The others sneered but Marshall nodded again.

"Than it's no wonder the Persil wards were drawn here. They are feeding on it, growing. It may not be safe for you all. You should probably step back onto the elevator momentarily and give me and my assistant a moment to confer. You can search us afterwards, if it keeps you from hyperventilating." Riordan rolled his eyes.

All the children and especially Pamela were about to object when Marshall locked eyes with Riordan for a moment.

"Can you really help us?"

"I really can." Riordan said with great sincerity.

"Give them the room." Marshall motioned outwards towards his children. Billingsly helped him as he led them out of the vault, into the entranceway and then onto to the elevator, which closed behind them but did not ascend.

Riordan turned slowly back to Highwayman, his eyes intent.

"What the hell...?" RIordan said leaving the question open ended as he threw up his hands.

"Paying gigs remember?" Highwayman wiggled the CD cases. "These guys are defence lawyers for every two-bit hood and bad guy from here to Huxley Bay. The information on these disks not only will put some nasty men in a lot of hurt but we're talking a string of paydays."

The masked man looked over Roirdan's shoulder at the closed elevator doors. Using his eyes he pointed to the disks in his hand and then to the magical satchel the mage carried. He repeated the motion a couple of times and then flashed a smile.

Riordan rolled his eyes and snatched the discs putting them in a small outer pocket on the bag.

"I happen to be on a paying gig myself! Big time, and if they get wind that I'm facilitating some zorro lookalike to bring them down, I get the feeling I won't be seeing any of that money! Not to mention if one of them looks up the word Persil." Riordan sighed.

Highwayman thought for a moment, "the laundry soap?"

Riordan smirked.

"I needed to say something, and Hell, it was a pretty safe bet that none of that lot have done household chores a day in their lives." Riordan smiled, looking back over his shoulder at the elevator doors.

"You didn't know that Persil, while commonly known for the laundry detergent was also the name of an exquisite German wizard, renown for his warding techniques?" Highwayman blanched. "My gods man, do you know nothing of eighteenth century protection magic? It is the basis of all modern workings."He paused. "In short, lie." The rogue shook his head. "Well, since I'm here, anything I can help out with or should I pull a disappearing act and you can pretend to have returned me to the astral plane?"

"Don't get clever on me now. They are already wound pretty tight about me being in here and then springing my "assistant" on them, who was already in their vault! You vanish now and this whole thing goes to pot. Gods why does this keep happening to me? First Sylph and now you."

"You know her?"

"We dated actually," Riordan smirked to himself at the memory of those times, he was unsurprised Higwayman knew her, she seemed to make friends easily. "One time after we had already met but before things turned romantic, I was hired by a well to do couple who felt their house was being haunted. Turns out she was the ghost."

"You enchanted my plants," Highwayman laughed. "Small world."

"That was you? Wow, I had almost forgotten about that day." Riordan's eyes widened briefly in recognition.

"It's hard to forget," he chuckled. "I get home from a trip from the other side of the world and my houseplants look like they're set dressings for the next Tarzan movie. They even survived my time in prison." Highwayman closed his mouth suddenly. "Back to business, what can I do to help?"

Riordan thought for a moment.

"I'll call them back in. You're my assistant, we took care of the Persil Wards and now I just need for them to fill in the rest of the blanks about what the Hell their great-grand whatever got them into. I hope you watched a lot of: 'who's line is it anyay?'."

"That evokes so much confidence," he tipped his hat. "Since I am the assistant, I'll let them in."

Highwayman walked over to the elevator and pressed the button. The doors opened in a crisp and efficient manner only seen in high class hotels and upscale businesses. Inside the small group were waiting and it was quite clear it was a skill they had not practiced in recent history.

The rogue took of his hat and bowed, "my master has sent me to summon you,"

"About time," someone grumbled.

Now that he was relegated to being 'the help' Highwayman wasn't worth the attention. The group, led by their cane wielding patron pushed past and headed straight for the vault. Once they had past Highwayman straightened and placed his hat back on his head.

"If this man is indeed your assistant, why is he dressed like that?" Hannah asked crossing her arms and assuming a pose that was probably feared throughout her office.

"The price for serving my master is my identity," Highwayman touched his mask almost lovingly. "If I take off this mask, I break the contract and no longer can be his assistant."

Riordan summoned all the willpower he could muster not to strangle Highwayman then and there.

[Droai]"MIster Hilman. I'm sorry for all the complications that unfortunately come with these kinds of trouble and also come with trying to fix them. You can see though that I go to great lengths for my clients. The mess with the Persil wards is thankfully handled, my assistant was able to nip that pretty well in the bud, free of charge of course; I am far more focused on the task at hand. I believe you were about to show me the proof?"[/Draoi]

Marshall moved forward with Billingsly attentively along side. He went over to a panel in the vault and clicked the single button it's surface several times, seemingly in morse code. It popped open like a CD tray, resting within was parchment, vacuum sealed but perfectly visible. It was very old, and gave off an aura of dread.

As soon as Marshall took it into his hands; a skittering noise could be heard along the walls causing everyone to look around but nothing was there.

"That's the contract?"

"The one my grandfather signed. I need you to break it... or we're all damned."

"I can certainly try." Riordan moved towards the Hilman patriarch, "I'll need to study it though, may I take it back to my home? I can better cess out things given full time access." He moved to take the contract and Marshall was about to give it when the sound of someone clearing their throat could be heard.

Pamela stood forward.

"Marshall I doubt that's in your best interests, you don't even know this man."

Carson shot his wife a bemused look.

"Pam, if he wants to take that glorified movie prop home let him. It's just nonsense anyways, it has no actual value."

At this Marshall gave Riordan the contract. Almost immediately after Riordan had it in his hands Marshall fell to the ground. His cane had been kicked out from under him by Billingsly.

"What the Hell?" Hanna shrieked.

"Exactly." Pamela said coldly with a grin, "Billingsly block the elevator."

The servant jumped in the air with unnatural agility bouncing over Marshall and passed his children before they could blink. Billingsly landed with catlike grace and was about to make a rush for the elevator when a gloved hand smacked into his face. He was still for a moment, the impact unexpected.

"Usually, they fall down," the forgotten rogue said, he shook his hand which felt like he had just punched a wall instead of a 100 pound personal assistant.

"The elevator, Billingsly," Pamela repeated, enforcing the word with a stomp of her foot.

The stunned look disappeared from the young professionals face and he dove past Highwayman, rolling to his feet and rushing to his ordered spot.

"Fast little sucker," his two batons popped into his hand. "If the master approves, the help have a disagreement."

Meanwhile in the vault Pamela advanced on Riordan. Her eyes shifted from normal looking to multi-faceted like an insect.

"Pamela what is going on?" Carson snapped as he moved to help Hannah and Sam with his father.

Highwayman whipped his batons toward Billingsly who deftly dodged them. Mixing it up he hit high and low at the same time, another dodge. He led with a feint and lunged in, connecting with the wall behind the demons assistant but nothing else. As he leapt back he saw Billingsly smile and hold up his hands, his fingers were now claws the size of butcher knives.

"My name is Samial, and I will get what is owed to me. Give me the contract sorcerer." She said in a monstrous voice.

Riordan stared into her unnerving eyes.

"But of course." He moved towards her, contract in hand. Than he pretended to trip over Marshall and fell forward, the contract flying outwards out of the vault. Pamela turned to grab it, but stopped notice the vacuum packed case was empty. Before she could react, Riordan shoved her and himself out of the vault, into the entranceway.

Billingsly moved to catch his mistress and Highwayman struck. Both batons slammed into the side of his head and made him stumble. Pressing his momentary advantage Highwayman sweeped the demon assistants legs bringing him face first to the floor.

Pamela rounded on Roirdan, tossing him in the air like a ragdoll but grabbing his satchel. He landed with a thud. She opened the bag, only for it to be revealed as empty. Nothing at all inside.

"Where is it?" She bellowed in her demonic tombre.

"Lost something? I always find my keys in the couch cushions, try there." Riordan said rubbing his sore back as he got up, he dashed over and grabbed Highwayman's wrist and pulled him into the vault, hitting the panic button as he did so; causing the doors to slam shut and soft beeping to be heard.

"Hey, come on, I was winning."

Now as the vaults lights went on, Riordan took a breath. He, Highwayman and the Hilmans were now trapped in the admittedly spacious vault, with a demonic force and her lackey most likely trying to claw their way in.

"Black magic goblins and now demons, actual demons," he took a deep breathed in and then laughed. "You do keep things interesting."

"Oh I am a hoot and a half, I'll give you that." Riordan winked before pulling the contract out of his satchel.

He dropped to his knees, spreading the parchment out on the floor in front of him. He began speed-reading, running his hand along the text.

"I demand to know what is going on here!" Hannah said rising from where she and her brothers had knelt attending to their father. Carson and Sam soon followed suit.

"I'm reading." Riordan said without looking up.

""This is crazy." Sam said flippantly.

"I quite agree. My father saw some weird stuff, and got a few of my siblings to humor him. Buying into an old family legend. You show up and everything should have blown over but all this happened! I know how your kind operates, you use hallucinogens and special effects to make people think something scary is happening that only you can fix. Well what have you done to my wife? Drugged her? I'm going out there and settling this!" Carson shouted as he made his way to the vault controls.

Once again Riordan didn't even look away from the contract as he replied.

"Stop him." He said casually to Highwayman.

Using the baton still in his hand Highwayman smacked the extended hand and pushed Carson back.

"Trixie hobbits," he put himself between the others and the controls. "Master wouldn't hurt us, master is our friend."

Carson looked at his sore hand and then back at the masked man, "are you insane?"

"I'm not the one who married a demon," he smiled.

Riordan smiled at this comment and rose to his feet, contract in hand.

"Okay people here's the deal, I think I have this mostly figured out. Way easier than my SATs!" Riordan said with a wink, "Your great-grandfather, well your grandfather Mister Hilman. Still with us?" Riordan said looking down at the older man who seemed mostly fine just out of it, "Sold his soul to a demon in exchange for material wealth, now here's the kicker; he also promised the souls of all of his descendants as well. I know right? Parents, think they own yah." He shook his head in amusement, "But your souls don't technically belong to him. So for Samiel to collect, you've got to take part in the arrangement willingly. ie; spend all that evil money. Now because you've got an out, you were never supposed to know the deal was real, but to collect you had to know about it, so it became a family legend that no one believed. The works got mucked up though when old Marshall here had his brush with death and got a view of what was waiting for you all, since the jig was up Samil decided to speed up the process before you could break the contract. Hence taking up shop in dear Pammie and sending in Billingsly as backup."

"Your wife was possessed and you didn't even notice?" The rogue shook his head sadly. "It's been quite a while, hasn't it?"

"I don't know what you are talking about," a vein on Carson's forehead was throbbing.

Riordan was about to go on when the room became hazy, like when it's so hot you can see lines of heat in the air, which was ironic because the temperature seemed to dropping rapidly. As the Hilmans, and the two vigilantes looked at each other their faces appeared monstrous and twisted for brief flashes before returning to normal. Lastly, in the room there was the definite feeling of being watched, of another larger presence that couldn't be seen.

"Its okay. You all know the great joy the gifts of this world, my gifts have brought you. The pleasures of the present, of the living world, are every bit as rewarding as those of the next. Why shouldn't you have them?" The same voice Pamela had spoken in, now filled the room; it was still deep and inhuman but it had taken on an a soothing quality, like that of a parent.

Riordan went to look at the others but became dizzy, a strange double vision filled his sight. He was at once seeing the vault and all within as they were but at the same time seeing himself, wealthy and famous. He saw television interviews and a gigantic skyscraper that served as the home of the Draoi: Paranormal investigation and defense.

"Riordan?" He took a step toward the mage and the room spun.

His vision was overlaid with an opulent life, his own penthouse, underlings running at his command, and a key to the city hung over the door. One of many.

He shook the vision clear of his head. The feeling was familiar, it was the same rush he had experience before killing Messina. A driving, burning, desire for the justice he deserved.

"No," he closed his eyes to the vision. "Riordan, snap out of it. We're being played."

Riordan's vision grew and he saw himself older arm around a dark haired boy of about thirteen who wore an outfit similar to his but in white, he saw as he guided the boy to signing a piece of parchment paper. The boy smiled and signed a familiar name.

"Martin..."

Riordan shook his head.

"Well, that was a pretty desperate gambit Samiel." Riordan said with a smirk, he stepped towards the Hilmans.

Does the computers in the vault have direct access to your complete fortune? As wells as the ability to transfer those funds?" He asked in general, but he was locking eyes with Marshall.

The others gave a myriad of answers from unsure looks or questions about why he was asking but Marshall simply nodded in the affirmative.

"Good, now my lovely assistant if you could give them the name of one of your charities. They're about to have amazing karma." Riordan smiled.

"Given the wonderful work the Hilmans have done keeping the streets Garrison clean the Police Widows and Orphans fund would be fitting," he looked over at Riordan. "Minus a finders fee and your hourly rate of course."

"Of course." Riordan nodded with a grin, "Make the transfer, every dime, you can't keep any of it. You still have your law degree, you can find work as lawyers and what not but you'll have to start at the bottom."

"Why should we believe any of this?" Hannah said clearly already half-convinced.

[Droai]"Those visions you just had, besides from tempting and wonderful, how did they feel? Underneath the joy, underneath the contement, how did they really truly feel?"[/Draoi]

""Wrong." Sam said simply hanging his head.

Marshall whispered something to Hannah and she made her way to a console. Hesitantly she looked back at Carson. He stood motionless, face red, but said nothing. She turned back and began typing. After a few minutes she came to a stop, her finger resting on the unpressed send button and with a breath, she pushed down.

Suddenly the room returned to normal temperature and it felt to everyone like a weight had been lifted off them. Riordan walked over and opened the vault doors.

He led the way as the group exited, finded Pamela sitting confused on the floor and no sign of Billingsly.

"What's going on?" Pamela asked through tears.

"Your husband can explain it better but word of advice; a demon made a home inside you and no one noticed, you may want to consider an adjustment of both your priorities and your attitude. Especially considering you'll probably have to find a job." Riordan grinned with a wink.

"Ladies, Gentlemen, Carson," he tipped his hat. "I wish I could say it was fun."

He was enveloped in smoke and was gone once the smoke had cleared.

"What was that about?" Pamela wiped her eyes and stood.

"I no longer needed his assistance," Riordan held up his bag. "He's back where I keep him."

The family stood in silence, as Sam helped his father up.

"I trust my fee has been sent to my account and other than that, I'm sure you lot will land on your feet. Just take it in, how clean and free you must feel now."

"Thank you Mister Burke." Marshall said through coughs.

"Don't thank me, you did it. Now though you at least have each other. Ironic isn't it?" Riordan said looking to Carson.

"What's that?"

"Well a wise man once said; "Hell is other people."." He said with a final smile as he entered the elevator, the doors closing behind him.

---

Riordan had Martin on his lap as he watched the television. He had rented the Elizabeth Hurley version of Bedazzled.

"Gods this is just awful. Brendan Fraser is really hit or miss." Riordan said disparagingly as he gave Martin a cheerio.

Suddenly a knock came at his door. He put Martin down in his playpen and went up to answer it. Opening it he found Highwayman, in casual dress for the first time in RIordan's presence.

"Well look who has a face under that mask? I assumed you'd be by to get your cut." Riordan smiled.

"We haven't officially met," he held out his hand. "I'm Eric, nice to meet you."

"Eric? How viking. Here with that get-up I was thinking Antonio or Errol." Riordan smiled shaking his hand. "Come on in, I'll get my checkbook."

"I'm here for another reason," he reached behind his back. "I'd like to see your face when I do this."

"Oh Gods above and below... just hand me the peanut brittle, trust me it'll be a gas all us irishmen are afraid of snakes." Riordan rolled his eyes.

"This is better than peanut brittle," he pulled a movie case from behind his back. "Star Wars, A New Hope, it's time for your education to begin."

Riordan rolled his eyes again but smiled.

"Prisoner transfer right? Well at least now you'll get the validation of thinking you're funny." Riordan stepped aside, "Come on in."

"Thanks, I brought popcorn too," Eric stepped in and winced, after a moment, when nothing happened, he opened his eyes. "You magical types have DVD players right?"

"Oh yes, we have all sorts of things you normal people do." Riordan deadpanned, "And you burglar types have sticky fingers right? Swipe anything and just be warned I'll have to do my own kind of prisoner transfer." Riordan smirked.

"Don't worry, I only steal from rich people," Eric stopped in front of the playpen. "Hello, little guy. Is this your son?"

"Roommate." Riordan said following him in.

"Credit problems?" Eric picked up one of the stuffed animals and handed it to Martin. "Don't worry, fella, it happens to the best of us."

"So Star Wars huh? That's the one with William Shatner right?"

"I will punch a man in front of a toddler," he raised a finger.

"Relax, i'm a sorcerer not amish..."

"Shatner was on Star Trek, this is Star Wars," he squatted down and addressed Martin. "You are going to have your hands full, you know."

Riordan sat on the couch.

"Shut up and put in the movie."