A Case of Mistaken Identity: Chapter 13

Disclaimer: The X-Men belong to Marvel, the Coda to Wildstorm, and the
story to me.

Later that night, the Manhattan brownstone of the Hellfire Club on Fifth
Avenue has not seen a gathering like this for months. The rich and
powerful, from across the city, indeed the country, have come to
celebrate tonight. Members in long standing, as well as a select list of
invitees who ferverently wish to become a part of the tradition and
grandeur which the Club represents... gawking citizens, police and
paparazzi all greedily clog the entrance to the mansion as the red carpet 
is rolled out....

A graceful 32 Rolls Royce Silver Cloud rolled up to the carpet, as a
footman opened the door, announcing the occupants, his voice booming over
the crowds.

"Mr. Remy LeBeau" he intoned as the Cajun gentleman thief emerged, in a
cutting edge collarless Armani tux, his auburn hair tamed for once into a
sleek tail. Sleek Dior shades hiding his exotic garnet eyes from the
public, adding to the mystery of the man.

Hank, who'd been persuaded to drive them there, cautioned her, "First sign
of trouble, Betsy...."

She arched a violet eyebrow, <<I shall alert you telepathically, Hank.
....and you know I'd rather not be called Betsy.>>

He turned over his shoulder and winked at her, "I calls them like I sees 
them, ma'am. Mrs. McCoy's little boy aims to please... now the two of you 
be careful in there! Things are never what they seem at the Hellfire
Club."

<<And to you, I am still "Betsy",>> she replied, to her only other friend 
among Xavier's little clan, <<I find your friendship touching, Hank...
thank you. And the latter is what makes it so exciting, my friend. See
you at "midnight", O Furry Godfather....>>

The footman caught her by surprise when she heard her full title being
used, "Her Grace, Elisabeth Anastasia, Duchess of Avalon, Countess of
Lyonesse, Baroness Braddock..."

Emma chuckled in the back of Liz' head, <<Couldn't resist, Liz... Besides,
it's your due....>>

Liz gritted her teeth, and allowed Remy to hand her out of the limousine,
she had not felt this free in years. How odd--but under the stare of
countless eyes, the flashing of dozens of cameras, and awe all around
her, comes a sense of liberation.

This is, after all--in many ways, what she was born to be: the pampered
elite, better than others, destined to be elevated on a pedestal above
the 'unwashed masses', like her ancestors of the aristocracy and
nobility, even the odd royal. But, because she never really believed
that, her life had taken many surprising and unexpected turns.....
SHIELD agent. Captain Britain. X-Man. Freedom fighter. Coda warrior.

Surprisingly, the bumpy road has not lead to a dead end, the way Liz first
feared, and though she'd not tell a soul, Emma and Remy knew, the recent 
turmoil and challenges in her life had secretly been a thrilling ride.

Her black and purple Issai Miyaki evening gown was a last minute choice
that she and Remy had altered to fit her tall, muscular frame. Stripped
down to it's essentials, and only accented by the Cambridge Amethysts
she'd been given by her aunt, the Queen mother; she cut a resplendent
figure of austere elegance among the glitterati of New York's high
society, eliciting envious to admiring glances as she entered the foyer
of the mansion.

Her cloak and Remy's were taken by yet another pair of footmen as people 
whispered about the one time supermodel, who turned up after disappearing 
from society for months on end. She couldn't help but smile at the little 
jibes Emma made about some of the people they saw in the ballroom below
them...

"wow..." she whispered, as Remy offered her his arm to descend the grand 
staircase.

"You expectin' a McDonalds, Lady Avalon?" Remy teased gently.

As she cooly looked around herself, appearing to be the aloof aristocrat, 
she whispered along a mindlink to Remy, <<The Club in London is far
more..... reserved, more understated than this, Remy!>>

<Chalk it up t' New York glitz, chere.> he replied dryly as he procured
two flutes of Dom Peringnon from a passing waiter, <D' Club always know
how to impress.....>

Liz felt an elbow nudge her in the back, "Excuse me....."

A handsome young black man smiled at her, "Your pardon, your Grace. 
Surprised to see a black man here?"

She laughed softly, "Of course not, Mr...."

He extended his hand to her, "Taylor, ma'am. Dwayne Taylor."

She sensed more through the physical contact than she needed to know that 
the young man before her was a worthy individual, a maverick like herself,
who danced to his own orchestra, "A pleasure, then. I am visiting from
England, and I find this.....whole thing quite different than the Club at
home, in London. But like life outside these hallowed walls, diversity is
welcome and necessary to ensure growth and improvement, is it not?"

This time, Taylor's smile reached his eyes as he noticed her pointed ears
and that her hair was naturally violet rather than died, "Black, blue,
human, mutant, alien... What difference does it make? The Club must be
seeking more diversity than usual, eh?"

"Mr. Taylor, if you will excuse us please???"

Another voice interrupted the conversation. That slick, oily kind that one
would have expected out of a used car salesman, or a consummate
con-artiste came to Remy's mind.

Dwayne Taylor flashed her a warning look, "Have a good evening folks. It's
been a pleasure, Lady Avalon."

Liz stiffened slightly, her composure becoming more rigid and formal as
she turned to face the owner of the voice, "Taylor--?"

A suave looking Italian man tipped his champagne glass in a mock salute to
Liz and Remy, "Dwayne Taylor, mi signorina. He's the head of a benevolent 
foundation. He makes his points in a quiet, forceful manner, no?"

"As opposed to you, Mister...?" Liz asked, letting her regal hauteur take 
over in dealing with what she sensed, was a rather unpleasant man.

"Parvenue, mi bella, Rinaldo Parvenue." he announced grandly, as though he
were the Duke of Savoy, "I was an old friend of your fathers...."

Remy couldn't help but eye the lovely young woman with long dark hair and 
haunted dark eyes, that was threading her way through the crush of
attendees. She was heading in their direction with a look of
determination on her face, just as the slick Italian finally got Liz'
hint to move on, "I hope you have an enjoyable evening, Lady Avalon.
We've all looked forward to this for a long time, you know.... Your
continued presence in the inner... workings.... of the Club would be a
most welcome addition, as you are your father's heir."

With that cryptic remark, he sketched a too perfect bow and disappeared
into the throng of Le Beau Monde of American high society.

Tessa lightly touched Liz on the elbow, getting the telepath's attention, 
"Your Grace, Mr. LeBeau, I'm so glad you decided to come this evening... I
do hope Mr. Parvenue wasn't boring you..."

Inwardly Liz groaned, as did Emma Frost, the silent witness and advisor in
the back of her head. Emma knew something of the man's manipulative ways, 
especially in how his debutante bride, who'd inherited her membership from
her parents, had mysteriously died in a car wreck not long after their
child had been born... Not only had he gotten himself a coveted
membership to the Hellfire Club, he'd also managed to inherit her entire
estate, including major holdings in several international corporations
that had been in trust for the ill-fate young Mrs. Parvenue.

It was Remy who covered for her wandering attention, "No, not at all,
chere.."

He sketched a slight bow over Tessa's hand before she guided them to a
salon off the main ball room, where the contemporary string quartet's
playing assumed a pleasant place in the background. Remy garnered more
than his share of envious stares, for escorting two stunning women...not
that he minded that at all.

Liz hadn't known Shaw very well, but Emma reminded her that Tessa had been
close to him, and of his recent death; prompting the young aristocrat to
words, "I suppose I should extend my belated condolences on Sebastian's
death..."

"Thank you," she said softly, "I know you and Mr. Shaw weren't well
acquainted.... If you'd come with me, please, I'd prefer to do this in
private, you understand?"

Remy's eyebrow shot up, "Do what, chere?"

Tessa knew she wasn't going to have as much impact on the Duchess of
Avalon, but she also knew that the lady in question was going through
some telepathic growing pains and her sensitivity to Remy would cause
feedback, still producing the results she desired as she unleashed a psi
blast on them, "I apologise, this will only hurt a little...."

Liz, who had been keeping her mind tightly shielded hadn't seen the
'attack' coming, but her private psi-link to Remy caused her mind to feel
the fire as he succumbed to it, the backlash overwhelming her mind, not
yet accustomed to it's new levels of power, she also sank into a heap
upon the floor...

Tessa gestured to two menservants, "Be careful of them, Mr. Shaw will be
upset if his guests are injured. I will have the maids provide them with
suitable attire for their station..."

She watched as the burly menservants lifted the two unconscious forms, and
gently carried them up the backstairs to adjoining suites while she headed
for the wardrobe, a pair of maids scurrying in her wake, "The amber and
gold suit for Mr. LeBeau, with a cream silk shirt and hose. Make sure you
get the ruby suite of jewels for him, as it will best suit him. I think
Hessian boots will be most appropriate. Now, hurry...."

"Aye, Mistress Tessa," the maid replied, bobbing a curtsy as she set off
for the items needed for Remy LeBeau's transformation from modern day
Robin Hood to a gentleman of Baroque refinement.

It took Tessa longer to find something that would fit Lady Avalon's
unusually tall frame, but in the depths of the wardrobe, she unearthed a
breathtaking black gown of rusched silk, trimmed with silver lace and
touches of lavender. It had been a mourning gown, and was remarkable well
preserved... The skirt was full enough to require modest panniers and
petticoats. The maid discovered a stunning black corset and lingerie, to
complete the Baroque styles the Club favoured, coupled with a set of
diamond jewellery that had belonged to Marie Antoinette, Tessa supervised
the antiquated makeover of her unconscious subject.

Consciousness returned only slowly, and in separate suites, they felt
gentle hands on them: touching, stroking, changing their clothes... the
slide of silk and velvet on skin...it was an intimate violation that
neither had the ability to stop.

And thirty minutes later, when they awoke, in plush wingback chairs,
facing each other, before a fireplace in a room that could have as easily
been in Versailles as Manhattan...the trespass was readily understood as
Remy and Liz gazed at one another momentarily stunned by the
transformations.

A rich, sensual laugh intruded on their astonishment, accompanied by
footsteps and the slight 'ting' of Waterford crystal, "LeBeau, my
apologies to your and your enchanting companion on my rather brusque
approach..."

Liz arose, only marginally unsteady on unfamiliar Louis Quinze heels,
realising that she had to move differently, due to her current attire,
"Shaw...that is you, isn't it?"

Shinobi Shaw bestowed his most dazzling smile upon the erstwhile Coda;
dark blue hair pulled back into a queue, only serving to highlight his
stunning Amer-Asian features, and the shrewd sapphire blue eyes he'd
inherited from his late father. He was dressed as they were: the height
of Baroque fashion, in midnight blue velvet, with gold bullion braid upon
his suit...his father's gold and lapis lazuli signet ring prominently
displayed.

"Indeed, fair lady..." he continued, "...If we are to see all the
treasures buried beneath this great mansion--after I always tried to
conspire to do so as a child, don't you think it simply *had* to be done
while upholding tradition, and therefore requiring appropriate attire and
manner?"

Remy muttered, thinking back to the times his father had taken him to the
New Orleans branch, "i hated that place...and as i recall so did bella
donna...."

Shinobi raised an eyebrow at Remy, "I have learned as I've grown older, to
enjoy the pleasures our status accords us, Mr. LeBeau... And, Lady Avalon,
my sincerest regrets over your recent...difficulties...with the jigoku 
cartel and the Coda."

He smoothly bowed over Liz hand, kissing each of her knuckles with
practised ease; as he enjoyed the slight flush that came to her cheeks at
his thoughts. He knew when to be refined, and there were times like these
that he could charm anyone, as well or better than the Cajun rogue who'd
accompanied the European Black Bishop's heiress. 

He smiled at her again, taking in the sight of the magnificent creature
before him, "Didn't mean to make your problems worse, your Grace.... So,
as a token of my sincerity, if and when you do decide to rectify your
situation.. please feel free to give me a call, if you need any help..."

Liz looked at him closely, comparing this young man to the one she'd
encountered several weeks before. Her eyes narrowed slightly, for he was
behaving radically differently than the decadent brat in Tokyo...

Emma whispered in the back of her mind, <<Careful, Liz, he's as tricky as
his father was, and he sees you as an asset, because of your hereditary
nobility and your power. I think he's been thinking about you and the
steel you showed in Tokyo. You got his attention, and his respect from
the look of things. I think he's got something up his sleeve, but he's
psi-resistant, so play your cards close to your bodice...>>

<<No joke, Em.>> she replied, inside her own head, <<I can See something 
coming up tonight, but I can't See what yet....>>

Shinobi gallantly handed her a flute of champagne, and then passed another
to Remy, a slightly smug expression crossing his face, "A toast to us,
Lady Avalon.... just look how far some of us have come! How often did we
see each- other as children, here? Twice a year or so?"

Liz nodded, "Yes, I recall seeing you rather frequently here, when our
fathers were doing business.. we were always terrorizing Brian..."

She took a cautious sip of the Crystal champagne, and found it to be as
delightful as she remembered, she waited as patiently as she could, for
Shinobi to continue, which he did, "Well, here we all stand, grown up and
ready to take our place among the ruling elite! Here's the deal, my dear
Elisabeth: I intend to re-establish the Inner Circle of the Club. And I
want you as my Black Queen!"

He took a long draught from the goblet, as Liz and Remy looked at each
other, momentarily speechless. She slowly sipped again from her goblet,
considering what reforming the Inner Circle could mean... and at the same
time, glad for the well fitted corset that helped keep her posture
upright and seemingly unphased.

"It is *our* time, now--our opportunity, to become what we were born and
bred to be, heirs to the power this club represents, as well as all the
perks and privileges that go along with it.... Don't deny your interest,
my lady, for I've seen the spark --the fire--in you ever since we were
children. You have the eye of a wildcat, sharp and clever; and your
talons were always so carefully hidden...yet skilfully played!" he
continued, his eyes sparkling with passion, "My father never saw that in
your father or that worthless twin of yours, but he saw it in *you*,
Elisabeth."

Shinobi's voice trailed off, the old hurts, the old scars vivid in his
psyche. He looked up at Liz with haunted eyes, "And since I was such a
disappointment to him, dear old food-for-worms, Sebastian never failed to
tell me that..."

Liz' voice softened as she reached out and touched the velvet clad
shoulder of her erstwhile rival, his pain echoing in her mind, "And how
many ways did he punish you for that, Shinobi? Is this the same child who
cried, telling me what a monster his father was, now saying that he wants
to take his place?"

Shinobi Shaw looked up at her, and shook his head mutely as she continued,
"My father was a good man, Shee, but I didn't have his--or
Brian's--interest in being a researcher, Nobel Prize winner and all...
Could it be that you've been going down the same road as your father
after the kinds of psychological and emotional torture Sebastian put you
through, in some sort of subconscious, desperate effort to prove yourself
to him?"

The boy still lived inside the young man before her, and she felt for him,
and felt Emma's confirmation of what she'd just told him, <<He's so
desperate for his father's love, that he'd become like him to achieve
it... He was always so driven, when he was at the Massachusetts Academy.
Had to be the best at everything, and Sebastian never had a kind word for
him, that I can recall....>>

<<Figures,>> Liz replied, softly, <<But I think he can be turned around,
Em. He always trusted me....>>

Remy quietly watched his lady-love at work. She was a far cry from the
meddling Jean Grey or the controlling Charles Xavier. Shinobi'd pegged
her right: she was a wildcat. The iron hand in the velvet glove... He saw
Tessa, and gestured to her to simply have the footmen place the
refreshments on the sideboard, without disturbing the little drama 
unfolding before them, as she lingered to watch.

Liz took a deep breath before she forged onward, into the murky waters of
Shinobi's past, "This branch of the Club, and especially it's Inner
Circle still stand for things that I can't agree with... I am not
rejecting your offer, but I would have to see a change in direction. "

He looked up at her, some degree of confusion in his sapphire eyes, "I
should've expected that, I guess what couldn't kill us, makes us
stronger..... 'cause what ever I lacked as a child, I've got now. My
father was willing to use it to bleed this planet dry of everything it
has to offer..... This was always meant to be between me and you, anyway,
Elisabeth. I'm a 'mutie' just like your 'friends' up there in Westchester
County. Intangibility... Phasing is my specialty. Not to splashy, but
effective."

He reached through Bett's glass, with his elegant fingers, "I could phase
my hand inside an enemy, and remove that hand with their heart, still
beating and bloody between my fingers... But that'd make me like my
father... and I don't want to be him. Though I get the feeling that your
heart belongs to someone else now... remember our pact we made as kids?
That we'd get married after we were old enough? People change, don't they?
Have we?"

Liz was about to answer him, when she heard the ripping of cloth, Warren's
wings shredding the footman's uniform, her eyes met Remy's: they'd been
followed and spied upon.... Worthington was the only one of the X-Forces
who was a member, though an inactive one. With an image inducer he'd been
able to sneak in, and spy on her for Xavier....

He snarled as his techno-organic wings unfurled, "What about you, Shaw?
Who does your heart belong to? You're just a spoiled, selfish brat! Look
at you... able to reach into anything you want, but when you do, you
can't find anything to hold on to....."

Shaw's eyebrow rose a fraction of an inch, "And how different does that
make me from you, Archangel?"

Liz sensed the wing's malevolence, and foresaw the 'quill' blades firing,
but there was no cover here, and no armour to protect her... she gasped as 
they passed *through* her, as she felt Shinobi's arm tighten around her waist,
he whispered in her ear, "No worries, Liz..."

He'd phased her.... and continued to keep her out of phase, knowing she'd
not be able to employ Coda tactics in a Baroque ballgown, while she
linked minds with him and Remy, <<I am sick of this! Xavier sent that
whining fop to spy on me! And he dares attack me?>>

Worthington snapped at Shinobi, "You tell me! What did happen to your
father? You come clean, Shaw, then we'll see how different we all are
from each other.... And you lured Elisabeth here, when she was
vulnerable... Charles warned me that someone might try to take advantage
of her... even you, LeBeau."

Shinobi had recovered his dignity, "Old, unfounded rumours, War. You know
your accusations sting about as much as your wingblades. Shamefull
attacking a lady.... while she's unarmed. As for my father, he died of
natural causes!"

Warren hovered above them, his wingblades still smoking, in the wrecked
antiquity of the salon behind them, as he continued his taunting, "Oh? It
must have been one of those--naturally occurring explosions, huh?"

He flew through Liz and Shinobi, toward Remy and Tessa, his eyes red with
madness and jealousy, as Remy charged a handful of wingblades he'd
blocked with a heavy silver serving tray, <I got him covered, chere. Stay
behind me, Tessa...>

"Why don't you take that 'sharp eye' and take a look at your self?" 
Warren snarled, as he dove at Gambit, only to run into a face full of his
own wingblades exploding, knocking him out of the air.

Shinobi let loose of Liz, <Find cover, Liz, use your telepathy to confuse
him if you can..... Let me deal with this!>

Shinobi returned a taunt of his own, "And what do you think I'll find
there that I've not already seen? OOOhhh, daddy hit me? I'm all insecure
about myself? Or that I'm a mutie freak like you? ... Well so what? Those 
conclusions are for lesser people than us, Warren. I'm not some weak little 
child anymore. This world demands strength, and I'm going to make sure 
that's me!"

Remy looked at Archangel, "Like you be one t'talk, mon ami. You step on
alot o' people on you way up t'being de Archangel o' Death...You measure
you self-worth by de number o' people you took down on your way up,
homme."

Liz had taken cover with Tessa, behind the massive oak desk, while keeping
an illusion of herself and the other woman where they'd been, <<Don't
worry, Tessa. I've keep Charlie Brown out of my head for almost 3 months
now, I think I can deal with one of his lackeys....>>

<<Thank God...>> Tessa replied, <<I can hold my own against ordinary
thugs, but not the likes of him. I owe you and Lord Shaw my life...>>

The illusory Liz spoke, advancing toward Archangel, "Sorry to disappoint
you, Worthington, but I was brought up better than that. Those of our
station have an obligation to serve as examples to those less fortunate.
We have an obligation to help them, lead them and teach them. You and
Charles and the X-forces live in isolation out there, you've lost touch
with the very people you're claiming to want to help...."

"When you tell me you're interested in bring back the Inner Circle,"
Warren replied in his patronizing tones, "I have to tell you that it's
not going to happen! The X-Forces are quite capable--and quite
willing--to come here and tear this place to the ground! You stand in the
way of peaceful co-existence of humans and mutants..."

Shinobi snorted in an unladylike manner, "I'm sure.....
riiiiigggghhhtt.... like Old Cueball is going to let his little disciples
do something nasty like that.."

Warren looked at the illusory Liz, "It's time to go, Betsy. You've been 
sick, and you're not thinking clearly, right now. The Professor wants you 
to come back, so we can help you..."

Remy shook his head, "De lady came here o'her own free will, homme. She
can stay o'she can go as she please. I don't think you want to be telling
her what she can o'can't do..."

Worthington's smug expression turned stern, "She leaves with me, now. You 
don't want to be pushing us, Shaw.... "

Shinobi launched himself at Archangel, phasing in midair, "That's just the
point, War, I DO! The only way to get yourself to fly higher than you have
is to push yourself to the edge of the cliff!!"

Warren Worthington groaned in pain as Shaw phased a hand inside his neck, 
"C'mon, "Angel", show me that you still have some of the "arch" left
inside of you... show me you're not one of Old Cueball's trained monkeys..."

Liz kept her illusory self in front of Archangel, to distract him, while 
she snuck up behind him as only a Coda could, while Remy looked for an 
opening for his cards, "Look like it's a stalemate, Shaw... you materalize
yourself t'hurt him, his wings slice you in half.... Guess you two do 
understand each other inside out....non?"

Liz reached out, grabbing a handful of Warren's blonde hair, dropping the 
illusions, "Unfortunately, Warren, understanding the similarities one sees
in another doesn't always lead to self enlightenment... Perhaps we can
help you fly free on you self-delusional repressions?"

The psychic sword was the physical manifestation of Liz's telepathic
powers, capable of cutting through high density steel, or in the case at
hand, she was able to cut through the folds of Warren Worthington's
subconscious mind with calculating precision, splaying open for clinical
inspection, a painful swirl of memories churning inside him.... which had
long been held in check by Xavier's subtle telepathic programming as well
as that of Apocalypse....

She cleaved to the truth, and then withdrew promptly, letting the man deal
with himself. His wings folded back in on themselves as he collapsed into
a nearly comatose state. Liz shook her head in pity, "...and to think all
of them are like that."

Remy summoned a footman, "Take d'flyboy out to d'servant's quarters. He
had too much t'drink...."

The man unquestioningly followed the orders of the Cajun thief as he and 
Tessa left the salon, quietly shutting the doors behind them, "We go join 
d'party, chere. Remy thinks 'Lisbeth and Shinobi need to have a private 
tete-a-tete. We look in on them later, oui?"

Tessa was momentarily dazzled by the man's charm, and didn't even notice 
the soft, lightly persuasive edge to his velvet voice, "Certainly. Would 
you like me to introduce you to some of the luminaries of the New York 
branch?"

"Oui, mon chere," he said with a smile, "You lead de way, Remy will
follow..."

Back in the gold salon, Liz settled on the remaining setae, patting a spot
beside her, inviting Shinobi to join her, "What about you, Shee? I sense
you are still greatly troubled by a number of things...."

He nodded, his voice almost a flat monotone as the words tumbled out of
him, "I was never good enough, Liz. He would hit me, and then he'd hit
mother, as if it were her fault...."

Quiet tears welled up in the young man's eyes, though he didn't notice his
childhood friend embrace him, nor did he notice her careful probe into his
mind, amethyst 'butterfly masks' fanning their wings across both of their 
faces.....

She took a deep breath, and then plunged into Shinobi's mind, momentarily 
disoriented by the compartmentalized structure: the parts associate with
his mother: happy and warm. The parts relating to his father, tinged with
pain and rejection....

<Weakling!!! How did I give life to such a wisp of a boy? WEAK. Worthless.
Never amount to anything.....> 

Images of Shaw cuffing the boy around, for a minor infraction: wanting to 
play and be young and carefree, giving money to the butler's son, who
needed new shoes....

Fear of failure... rejection. 

<How do you expect to rule at MY side? You're not GOOD enough....>

And Shinobi's own thoughts: 

<Mother? Safe and warm and loved with mother....protected from harm....>

Countered by Sebastian's thoughts: 

<Coddled.... sheltered.... spoiled. Never be a real man...>

She saw Shinobi as a youth, then a teenager... a driven, ruthless
overachiever, seeking his father's approval, and finding it only from his
mother, until her death at the hands of her own husband.. a fragile
Oriental woman, who's broken body had been discovered by her only son...

He could do no wrong by one, no right by the other... so what was right or
wrong then? When one doesn't understand the difference between them,
there is no difference....

She reached further into his mind, soothing the pain as she rocked the
young man who now cried upon her shoulder, stroking his dark blue hair,
<<No, Shee.. there IS a right and a wrong. And the lines may sometimes
blur, but knowing the difference is vital to our ability to make choices
in life. We are products of similar environments, but that doesn't excuse
our responsibilities to our fellow sentients or to ourselves...>>

<You're right, Liz> he replied along the mindlink, <But at least your
parents didn't hate each other, didn't fight... didn't hate you.>

<<No, Shee, they didn't, >> she confided in him, <<They were distant,
letting the nanny and later governess raise us. Mother had her social
life as Baroness Braddock and all that, her charities and stuff; dad had
his nose buried in his books or in his labs--he and Brian got closer
after he took an interest in the sciences... I got my approval and
adoration at the Royal Academy for Performing Arts, and later as a model,
but it didn't replace the love that 'ordinary' children seem to get....
Where I come from affects, but doesn't dictate who I am, Shee. And who I
am now, affects, but doesn't dictate where I'm going. I'm lucky I've had 
the support of friends like Emma, Meggan and Allison to help me realise
that.... Who do you have?>>

The tear-filled blue eyes peered into wise amethyst eyes, <The one person
I always have... me....>

<<Then it looks like you need to find something to fill up the holes
inside you, Shee,>> she told him, <<and you can start right here. I was
your friend then, and I am still your friend now.>>

<I don't need or want pity, Liz> he shot back, defensively.

<<Good, because you're not going to get any.>> Liz continued, <<I used up
mine long ago... But you are going to need to think about the Inner
Circle, the Club, you and what you want out of life, Shee. Give me a call
next week, and we'll talk again.>>

She gave him a kiss on the cheek, and smoothed his hair out of his eyes,
<<You know where to find me, if you want to talk....>>

With that, Liz straightened her gorgeous ballgown, tidied her hair and
majestically drifted out to join Remy and Tessa at the party. Her change
of dress garnered her much attention as the costume portion of the ball
had begun. 

It wasn't hard to spot Remy and Tessa, in her dove grey replica of a gown
Madame du Berry had worn for a famous portrait, nor Remy, who was leading
her through a Venetian waltz. A smile crossed her face as she noticed
Dwayne Taylor approaching her as she descended the stairs. 

He was splendidly dressed as a wealthy Moorish pasha, a fitting role for
him this night, she thought as he took her hand, leading her out onto the
dance floor.... another new friend.

In the gold salon, Shinobi Shaw sat alone, considering Liz' words...

For years, he scampered about the grand halls of the Hellfire Club
mansion... always wondering, wanting to know what his father did in the
lower levels... always thinking that, since he could never find it
anywhere else, the key to happiness had to be down here...then he grew
up. He opened the door, and walked the halls of the Inner Circle...the
halls of power, but all Shinobi had found was a room as cold, as barren
and as empty as he had been....

Later, Liz had danced several sets with Remy, Dwayne Taylor, Tony Stark
and other people she knew, thoroughly enjoying herself with the charming
and debonaire Hercules when someone cut in on their minuet....

"Mind if I cut in?" came a familiar voice, though still a bit shaky.

Hercules smiled at Liz, "Certainly not, if thee dost not mind, my lady?"

She looked over her current partner's shoulder to see Shinobi there, and
she couldn't help but smile, "Not at all. Thank you for a lovely minuet,
Hercules. We shall have to dance again...."

He bowed out as Shinobi picked up the pattern of the court dance with her,
"I've been thinking, Liz... can we talk over dinner next week? Say,
Tuesday?"

Elisabeth Braddock simply smiled.