From their vantage in the living room area, Li'l Bit and Mike exchanged troubled looks as each disagreement grew louder and longer.  Finally after hearing Rahne make a very uncharacteristic remark about what Sam could do with that carrot, Li'l Bit said very pointedly, "Anorexia isn't the only thing that makes me want to skip supper."  Although she was addicted to staving herself, she got upset stomachs easily.

     Mike looked at her and back at the kitchen and nodded.  "Rahne," he asked politely, "Why don't you come out here and keep Li'l Bit company for a bit while I help Sam with supper?"  As a minister, he was 'on-call' every hour of every day.

     With a relieved sigh, Rahne walked out of the kitchen and flopped down next to the other woman while Mike walked into the kitchen almost cautiously.  Although he didn't think Sam would hurt him--on purpose, that was-- it was evident that he was in a foul mood.  "What can I do to help?" he asked.

     Sam looked up from the sauce he was making for the noodles and pointed to the caesar salad Rahne had given up on making.  "Chopping?" he asked, tensely.

     Mike quickly picked up the knife and attacked the head of romaine with a vengeance.  "Hope you don't mind but, from the sounds of it, you needed a breather."

     Sam nodded and chopped some basil and garlic to put in the sauce.  "Ah don't know what's gotten into Rahne today.  First, we have a blow-up fight this morning, and when Ah try ta talk ta her tonight, she blows up again."  His frustration was pouring out, making him forget that this was a guy he didn't know enough to trust.

     Mike nodded as he added salad dressing to the plate.  "And the fight was about?" he prodded carefully, trying to get the clinical note out of his voice.

     Sam shrugged.  "I know her foster father died recently... and she's upset about that."  He returned to the sauce to toss some shrimp in.  "Ya do eat shrimp, doncha?"

     Mike nodded.  "No red meat or poultry though," he explained.  He waited a moment to see if Sam was going to say anything else about the fight.

     He wasn't disappointed.  "Ya date Li'l Bit, right?"  Sam asked, thinking out loud.

     Mike snorted.  He had gotten his mother's diamond engagement ring last week, and would have given it to Li'l Bit if she hadn't messed up her ankle.  "Yes."

     Sam kept a careful eye on his stove top.  "And she doesn't talk about her mother that much, right?"  He knew Rahne's reaction was familiar, but he quite place a finger on it.

     Picking up the cheese grater, Mike nodded.  "She's told me that Rahne was abused, Sam."  He stared at the complicated contraption and frowned.  "Is that the problem, you think?  She's wanting to talk to you about her childhood and having a hard time?"  He worked with youth at his church, he knew that it could be like pulling teeth to get people to open up about abuse.

     Sam turned down the flame under the sauce.  "What would you tell me if she was?"

     Mike managed to get two good twists from the machine before pulling the handle out.  "Give her time and space, don't push it."

     Still a little frustrated, Sam pulled the grater from Mike.  "Time and space, huh?" he asked.  "Ah want ta help her..."

     Mike picked up one of the carrots and bit into it.  "Trust me.  This is one area that the woman makes the rules."

     Sam cracked a smile.  "Ah thought they made the rules in all the areas."

     Shaking his head, Mike disagreed, "They only think they do.  A wise man gives in... unless it's important."

**
     "Think this place will work?"  Celeste asked Tony once they left the treatment facility.  They were settled into the backseat of Emma's limo, with the separator blocking their view of the driver.  Those were her first words since an hour ago when they had left the Spartan, military-style center.

     Her friend shrugged.  "It's got a good reputation, remember?"  He had heard that boot-camp style programs did do wonders with first time offenders.  Clearly, this place was built with that in mind.  "And she's motivated, which can make all the difference in the world."

     She bit her lip.  "I guess...."  She wasn't comfortable with the place, finding  it too cold and uncaring.  But the success rate was extremely high, she reminded herself.  And Emma had the place thoroughly checked out.  It was safe.  It worked.

     "A lot of these kids need this kind of place," Tony pointed out.  "And if there were more places like here, I'd..." he trailed off, realizing what he was saying.  He'd be out of business if there were more rehab centers.

     Celeste nodded, catching his drift.  "I understand," she told him.  "It's.." she started to comfort him but stopped.  "I..."  Words failed her as she looked at him.

     Maybe it was the way she was looking at him that started to kill him.  The weight of who he was came pouring across him, like concrete.  A cold chill started to overcome him as he realized that he was responsible for Ariel's condition.  He was the reason that drugs were so accessible in the United States.

     Tears started to stream down Celeste's face, and she tried to muffle her sobs.  "I failed," she whispered.  "I failed Ariel."  Like a mantra, she repeated that sentence in quiet hysteria.  Tony slipped a supporting arm around her and pulled her to his chest, maybe in an attempt to comfort her, maybe in an attempt to stop hearing the words he indirectly caused.  Self-hatred started to numb him.

     The tears tore bits and pieces out of Celeste's already dulled soul, and the only thing that was helping was having her best friend's arms around her.  She stopped crying and looked at him, quizzically.  Tear stained eyes locked with dying eyes, and the world stopped.  The only thing that mattered was their need to be close, intimate with each other.  It was a moment of magic, the lowering of carefully built barriers, a time when anything could happen.

     Their first kiss was pure hunger, telegraphing a need to fill and be filled.  Bronze hands ran through blonde hair.  Celeste moaned and quickly jumped into his lap, craving the closeness he was offering.

     A sense of longing filled them, though they couldn't say exactly what they were longing for– momentary forgetfulness or what they knew they could find in each other.  All they knew was they couldn't stand not to be together, not to comfort each other.

     She was the first to indicate how far she was willing to go, lifting her arms for him to remove the loose cotton shirt she wore.  It was like a dream come true to him.  He reached for the top as a sense of deja vu overcame him.

     He had dreamed of this moment, Tony realized.  Dreamed of Celeste reaching for him, not out of needing what he could offer– a diversion from her pain.  She had offered herself because she wanted him, loved him so much she couldn't understand why they weren't sleeping together.  He hugged her instead, pulling her closer to him.  Flashes of that dream ran through his mind, only to end in her death.

     "What?" she whispered as he tensed up.  "I know you want it, it's what we've been dancing around for so long..."  She started to kiss down his neck, moving towards his pulse point.
 
     He shook his head, knowing what he was refusing.  He slipped two fingers under her chin and lifted her head.  "Not like this... not when..." Tony tried to explain himself.  "Baby, this isn't right.... it's just lust."

     "This is good," she corrected him as she slipped one hand inside his shirt.  "Very good.  Maybe this is what we've needed all this time... tell me you haven't thought about how good it could be– you and me..."

     Somewhat forcefully, Tony picked Celeste up off of his lap and set her down on the leather seat.  "Then it'll be good later," he told her firmly, leaving no room for discussion.

     She blinked at the amount of pressure that he had applied to her hand.  If he wanted to play that way, fine with her.  Pulling her arm to her chest, she took a moment to pull herself together and choose her words carefully.  It had been a long time since she had even thought about having sex, and longer still since she had wanted to make love to a person.  But if he was going to reject her like this, then she wasn't going to let it bother her.  With a shrug that didn't fool either of them, she said, "If that's the way you want it."

     "I think that's the way it should be," Tony corrected her.  "Think about it..."

     With a pointed look, Celeste shook her head.  "You think about it..."  She let her eyes linger for a second on his groin, needing desperately to find a way to redeem her pride.  She looked out of the window and realized she was near Emma's Boston apartment.  "I'll let you work... it out tonight." She pulled the cord to let the driver know to pull over.

     When the limo stopped, she climbed out.  "I can see myself home," she told him just before slamming the door.

     Maybe the worst thing about being friends, Tony realized, was that they knew each other too well.  To follow her right now would just make her madder, and she'd never bring up this moment again.  He slumped back into his seat and wrote directions to the driver so that he would be dropped off at his place.

     And admired the view as the limo pulled away.
 
**

     Angelo wearily walked into the computer lab, bracing himself for the next three hours and hoping that Paige wouldn't show up.  It wasn't that he didn't love his girlfriend.  That was the problem.  He loved the woman that Paige used to be before she got so caught up in Emma's private tutoring.  Since then, there had been a marked decline in the woman he knew as Paige started to emulate Emma.  Sure, there were things he enjoyed about the new Paige– sex being one– but he missed the innocene she used to have about her.

     He sat down at his favorite computer and flexed his fingers, which was a sight to see with all his skin, and logged on.  The two of them took a special, online biology class twice a week.  The complexity of the college-level class quickly overwhelmed him, and he tuned out everything but the computer screen.

     Finally, when the teacher called for a break, he pulled himself out of the world of protoplasm and looked around him, expecting to see his girlfriend at the computer next to him.  Instead he noticed in the corner a small candlelight picnic.
 
     "Paige?" he asked, surprised to see her there.  She was such a dedicated student that the very idea that she'd try a seduction in the classroom was astounding.

     She flashed him a beguiling smile.  "I just wanted to say... I know things have been tough with us lately and I wanted to let you know I still love you."  She took his hand and guided him over to the cloth.

     His mind was still stuck on how unusual this was for her as he smelled the fragrant, ethnic foods.  "Smells like home."  She was a vision in her blue, lacy peek-a-boo top and jeans that were molded against her.  Her hair was up in an elaborate french braid, and the small glittery hearts he had given her dangled from her ears.  "You look good, chica."

     Again, Paige smiled and dished him a meal from the different foods she made.  "Thanks," she said.  "You do too..."

     Angelo looked down at his grubby t-shirt and pants and shrugged.  "Just something I had laying around."  Which was true.  Unless he was forced to by a headmaster, he didn't even hang up his clothes.

     Paige made herself a meal and sat down.  The mere fact she was able to do so in skin tight jeans told him that her clothes were part of her skin.  "I just wanted to say," she started as she made eye contact with him, "I know that you think Emma's classes are having a negative influence on me and I think that they are helping me."

     It took a powerful act of his will to make him concentrate on her words while his mind was stuck on the fact she was naked.  It had been weeks since they had made love.  "They are?" he asked.

     Paige nodded.  "I'm not so hung up on being the leader of the team, am I?" she asked with a sexy pout.  "That's because Emma has taught me that I'm not in my brother's shadow anymore... I'm my own woman."  As she said that, her clothes started to slowly husk away.

     "Um... no..." Angelo answered.  "And you are woman... very woman, in fact."  At that moment, all that remained of her clothing was her bra and a pair of short shorts.

     Paige got up, walked over to the door and locked it.  Angelo ogled as her shorts melted into a thong bottom.   She reached up and pulled down the shade and flicked off the lights.  Angelo, from where he was sitting, quickly turned off the computer.  She turned around, blue material only covering the most important areas.  Smiling, she started to tear the pieces on her chest off.  "Let me," he begged softly.

     She smiled and sat down next to him.  "If that's what you want," she told him as she shook her hair free.

     Greedily, his hands snaked towards the two scraps on her breasts.  "It is..." he whispered.  Then, a sudden thought hit him.  "Sure Sam won't find us?"

     Paige nodded.  "He's having supper with the others."  Sam, in a way he wouldn't admit, knew that they were sleeping together.  All he'd said, which was in a vague and off-handed way, was that he knew that not everybody would make the decision he and Rahne had made and that, if they didn't, they should know how not to catch anything– and then a box of condoms appeared on her bed.   Emma had been a lot more detailed in what she had said about the situation but agreed not to tell Paige's mother, as long as Paige behaved responsibly.

     "I've missed you," Angelo told her as he moved the food out of the way.

     Paige laid down and pulled Angelo towards her.  "I've missed us."

***
     "Aren't menfolk wonderful?"  Li'l Bit asked as the guys took the dishes back to the kitchen to wash them.  "So handy to have around too..." she complimented them while blowing them a kiss.  Once she was sure they were in the other room, she turned to Rahne.  "Spill it!"

     Rahne blinked at the command.  "What?"

     "Sam's a sweetheart ninety-five percent of the time.  Either this is a rare occasion or ya need ta talk," Li'l Bit said with a smile.  "And we're family– okay, you're not married into the Guthrie Clan yet.... Ah'll work on it– but I'm Sam's emotional sister and yer the closest thing he's got ta a wife, which would make ya my sister-in-law... so as one sister ta another, what's the problem?"

     Rahne double blinked and mentally repeated the run-on sentence to herself.  "What?" she asked again.

     Li'l Bit, known around Nashville for her ability to say whatever was on her mind, tried another path.  "Are ya having troubles in the bedroom department?  Cause Ah'll talk ta Sam and tell him ta do what you want.  Kinky... straight... ya name it."  It was typical Li'l Bit strategy, confuse, distract, say something outrageous, and get to the truth.

     Rahne sputtered for a second and then just laughed.  "You and Pete would get along great," she said after a second.

     "Why?" Li'l Bit asked.

     "Because he likes being unexpected too."

     Li'l Bit rolled her eyes and bit her lip.  She wanted to get to the bottom of Sam and Rahne's fight, just so those two would stop fighting.  "Really?" she prodded after a second.  She couldn't just push Rahne into telling her, she had to direct the conversation towards the goal she wanted.  She had done enough interviews to learn that trick.

     "Kitty and A watched a movie a while back, and a woman mentioned 'Snow Blowing'.  We dinnea know what that was, so Kitty called him and asked... he told us!"  Rahne smiled fondly.  Pete was one of the few people who didn't treat her like a child or a lesser member of the team because of her age.

     "So what is it?" Li'l Bit asked.  Rahne whispered it to her, complete with the hand gestures Pete had used to explain it.  The blonde started to blush as she stared at the other's hands.  "Rahne, I didn't know you had it in you."

     Rahne sat back and smiled, happy to be the one in the know for a change.  "There's a lot about me you don't know."  The words were meant to be flippant, but Li'l Bit saw the shadows in her eyes.

     "Such as?" she prompted, hoping to get Rahne to open up.

     A heavy silence filled the room, wrapping itself around the sofa the two were sitting on.  "My father just died... and A've never brought muhself ta tell Sam the truth about him."

     This time, Li'l Bit was somberly wide eyed and still.  "Ouch..." she whispered.  "He the one that hurt ya– In his letters home, Sam mentioned you had been hit by your foster father."  She quickly added the last so that Rahne would know that Sam hadn't just blabbed Rahne's past to her.

     Rahne nodded.  "What would ya do?"

     Li'l Bit took a sip out of her glass as she thought about her answer.  "Ah don't know," she admitted.  "It killed me ta tell Mike about muh mother... and her friends." She didn't usually talk about her hellish childhood home life.

     "Think Sam's goin' tae hate me?"  Rahne asked quietly.

     Li'l Bit shook her head.  "Momma and Daddy G were like the best parents alive.  Sam knows not everybody is that lucky... and there is enough of them in him, he'll give you what you need– once you know what that is, that is."

     "A donnea know what A need," Rahne whispered softly.  "Time.  Lots of it."

     "Then tell him," the woman advised.  "From what Ah know of him, he'll stop trying ta pry it out of ya when he knows yer working on finding a way to handle the situation."
 
     "Ye think?"  Rahne asked hopefully.

     "Ah know," Li'l Bit promised.
**
     There were times in Tony's battle with the bottle he felt that one more little thing would push him over, cause him to start to drink.  That night was one of them.  He sat in his comfortable leather chair and buried his hands in his face, trying to rebuild himself before facing anything else.  He breathed deeply and started to chant a prayer to the Great Spirit, the God over all other Gods.  A prayer for the strength and courage to get him through an hour.

     Finally, having completed the prayer, he looked up at the coyote head hanging on the wall.  "Some son, huh?" he whispered.  Although he didn't believe his brother's claim that they were the children of the God of tricks, lies, and confusion, he had seen enough not to quickly dismiss it either.  "What do I do?" he asked the head.

     Not expecting a reply, he looked out the window of the plush apartment he called home.  Boston was a pretty city at night, city lights twinkling, as if they were stars on the ground.  He could hear the sounds of cars passing on the roads around him, sirens, squealing brakes, and horns sounded almost like a song as he breathed the cold air.  His attention focused on the police lights a couple of blocks over, and he watched them pull into a fast food restaurant.  A gas leak or something, he figured.

     He turned back to his desk and started to read the papers his brother had left for him.  Unlike Emma's reports, these were literally life and death.  Drug abuse was up.  Crime was up.  Murder had dropped a little.  The new varieties of cocaine were managing to hook people faster than ever before.  He focused his attention on the research side of things, trying to see what the future held, yet his mind was on this afternoon when he had seen the inside of a rehab center for the first time.
 
     How many people died because of his work, he wondered.  How many people ended up in centers like the one he had seen?  And how many millions of families had he helped tear apart?  How many people would rejoice to see him dead?  And worse... how many people wouldn't care one way or the other?

     Those he cared about were the reason he couldn't just leave the Network, because they would be the first targets.  People like his brother Paul and Pete Wisdom knew how to take care of themselves.  But people like Celeste and Forrest really didn't.  And they would be the first targets.  The Network didn't go after deserters until all the friends and family were dead first.

     Sensing he was drifting to the point of no return, Tony quickly flipped on the television.  He wished he had someone he could call at a time like this but, given what he knew and what could throw him over the edge, he didn't know a single person who could understand what he was going through.

     The local news had a camera crew at the fast food restaurant.  The reporter quickly summarized that police believed a man, high on drugs, had gone in and started shooting people at random.  Like a rubbernecker at an accident, he stared at the drama unfolding before his eyes.   There had been a kid's birthday party at the time, and hysterical parents could be heard sobbing off-camera.

     The tension wore on for minutes, until the sharpshooter had a clear target.  A quick cut away from the scene allowed the viewers to imagine what happened.  The police and paramedics rushed in... only to find that half the kids were dead.

     At that moment, a gentle breeze hit a man standing on a deep abyss. Tony walked over to the bar and poured himself a shot of brandy while anguished screams and heartfelt praise played in counterpoint to each other in the song of that was life in the city.

     What kind of man am I?, Tony wondered as he looked at the drink.  He got a cut from forty percent of the drug deals in the nation.  He had cut so many innocent hearts, killed so many people, that it was time he suffered like those who bought from him. Quickly, so he wouldn't think about it, he downed half of the brandy in a single gulp.

**

     Terry led Cable and Domino to a sofa in the library and asked them to sit down.  She took a seat across from them and breathed deeply, trying hard to maintain the illusion of control.  "You read my report?" she asked, her words calm but her heart beating fast.

     Cable nodded.  "I do want to go over a few key points," he informed her briskly, as he would if he were cross-examining a witness.  Terry nodded.  "About Joseph's death..." he started.

     Terry nodded and started to defend her actions, "We weren't sure where he would belong when the fighting started, so Cassidy, the leader of X-Strike, suggested that he go in with Luna.  He felt that her experience with her powers would make it an educational trip.  I could tell from the plans that her mission was the least dangerous, and concurred."  Her words were rushed, betraying her feelings.

     Cable nodded and asked his next question.  "Did you expect or were you lead to expect such a massive ambush, like the one you found?"

     Terry nodded slowly, her words more under control this time.  "We knew that the element of danger was extreme from the start—X-Strike was up front about it from the start."  She frowned at the repeat, hating to sound weak.  "I debated placing Joseph in the battle but it was clear that to keep him out would have hindered the base team.  They were a highly skilled team, used to working together, and the presence of another, especially someone that didn't know what he was doing, would have thrown a clog into their work."  She had rehearsed her answers for hours, trying to come to terms to what had happened on her watch.

     Again, Cable nodded and leaned in.  He was a warrior, a man who knew that he wasn't always going to get all his men out of a battle.  Joseph's placement with X-Force had more to do with which team he had the least uncomfortable personal history than his ability to use his powers.  In short, Joseph was weak, and he died because of it.   "I'm not questioning your story, I just get the feeling that you're leaving something out," he admitted.

     Terry nodded, and started to explain.  "My description of the events is correct...  But, while we were there, we met... well... our kids, as you know from reading the report," she started with some difficulty.  "One of them was a twelve-year-old, Lucky," she sighed.  "She's um.. uh..." she tried to say it.

     "Spit it out," Domino ordered, tired of waiting.   Whatever Terry had found, it had spelled the end of her 'vacation' on Genosha, helping to smuggle mutant children  and their parents out.  She wanted to return to her work.

     "She's your daughter with Shatterstar."  Terry said in one quick breath, glad to have finally gotten it out.

     Cable blinked.

     Domino was speechless.

     Terry braced herself.

     "My daughter?"  Domino finally asked, stunned.  She had taken care of that possibility shortly after she had been rescued from Tayler's custody.  Moira had assured her that there was no way she could get pregnant unless she took out the implant.

     "What???"  Cable roared in an attempt to contain his laughter.  The thought was ludicrous.

     "Shatterstar?"  Domino repeated, finding her trademark calmness.  "That is..."

     Cable looked at her and mouthed something.  She shot a deadly look back at him.  "Regardless of what skeletons are in my bed, I don't think that pairing is possible," she answered him.

     "She was created on Mojoworld," Terry added helpfully, "to star in a soap opera.  Shatty's friends found her and sent her to her present."

     Domino shrugged as Sean entered the room, "It was an alternative reality," she dismissed it.  "Not like---" He sat down next to the woman.  Terry had hoped that he might be able to help the woman with the forthcoming news.

     "She came back with us," Terry admitted, unsure of how Domino would take the news.  "Everything was looking extremely bad for X-Strike as the time warp opened up, so Ziggy tossed her in with us."  The team had been crippled, their ship destroyed, and the base was rigged to explode.  It was the only way that Ziggy had of making sure that the girl survived.
 
     In all the years she had known the other woman, Domino had never lost the collectiveness that she was known for.  'Never let them see you sweat' was more than a slogan, it was her motto.  The merc could reach down, discover a child's disembodied head and continue to assemble a weapon.  And that continued now.  "She's not my responsibility," Domino insisted, shaking her head.

    Cable looked at his partner with a sharp expression.  She shrugged, "I didn't make her."  The two looked at each other and it didn't take much to know that a conversation was going on between them, even if words weren't being used.  "She's not mine," Domino repeated.  "I didn't choose to conceive her or to carry her to term.  She's not my responsibility."

     Cable's disapproval was sensed, rather than spoken.  "We need to make some decisions about her," he stated firmly.  "What do we do with her---"

     "Leave her here," Domino said.  "It's a school for mutants, she's a mutant."  Her tone left no room for arguing.

     Lucky picked that moment to make her presence noticed—no small feat, considering the paranoid nature of the mercs.  She stood directly in front of Domino and forced the woman to look at her daughter.  And for the first time, the woman saw her child.  Lucky was almost as tall as she was, had the same pale skin and purple hair, only worn in a ponytail.  Instead of a purple spot over her eye, Lucky had a star.

     Waiting a beat, Lucky informed Domino, "I won't stay."  It was a statement of fact, one that Terry agreed with.  The girl had Shatterstar's intelligence, and schooling would be a waste of time.  And physically... the twelve-year-old was a better fighter than anybody on X-Force was, save her father.

     Domino opened her mouth and closed it, trying to figure out what to say.  Then, in a very non-Dom move, she did an about-face and quickly left the room.

     Cable looked at the empty door and then to child that stood in front of him, trying to decide who to talk to first.  A small tear trickling down the girl's cheek made up his mind.

     "Sean, why don't you and Terry find Domino?" he asked.  "If I were her, I'd be on the front steps..." he suggested, knowing that his partner had taken the back stairs to go for a run in the woods.  They left, following his suggestion.