Trackers
The Craziness That Is Life

© Tabitha Rowe

"Of all the ridiculous regulations!" The various residents of the X-Mansion looked up from their meals as the professor's hoverchair entered the room. At the sight of Xavier's stormy expression, Zoo blinked her green eyes and slipped into human form. "I've just received an official letter from the New York Department of Education. They are withholding certification because we do not have the proper number of faculty members. May God Himself save us from bureaucracy."

"So what are we going to do about this," asked Jean, absently stirring her coffee.

"Advertise." Zoo gave her somewhat shocked 'family' a rare smile before shifting back to panther form and slinking from the room.

"She is right." Charles made a visible effort to remove his agitation. "I have already made arrangements to move Faith to a faculty position, but I've checked with every graduate of this school and none of them are able to help for even a short time. I will have to advertise the position."

"Have you asked Amy?" Charles gave Daria a weak smile. "What about Adam?" A similar smile. "Duncan?"

"I'm afraid they are all currently unavailable, Daria. Does anyone else have any suggestions?"

"Jane? Willow?"

"Daria's presence would disrupt Jane and Willow, Oz." The man sighed. "Victandra is correct. I will have to advertise. We will have to screen the applicants very carefully."

"All right! Fresh meat!" Lyetta grinned at the others. "I've always wanted the chance to play with a mind that doesn't know all about this."

________________________

Jarod took a bite from his pop tart and continued with the perusal of the magazine. Finding nothing in the Westchester area, he tossed it down and picked up the next one. "Hmm, looking for a gardener. Possibly." After scanning through to the back, his eyes caught a tiny ad. "Required: A professor needed for gifted students. PhD in Biochemical Research, Genetics, and Physics. Must have experience with gifted children and have an IQ above 180. Interview required. To inquire further contact Dr Charles Xavier, MD at Xavier School for Gifted Children at 1407 Graymalkin Lane, Westchester NY 66752."

"Well, I do have all the degrees, just have to put them all in the same name. School for the Gifted? Didn't a child die there recently? I think I'll apply. I wonder if there are any Pretenders among the Gifted." Jarod finished his breakfast and packed his duffel bag.

________________________

Miss Parker strode into the room, anger and impatience evident in her every movement. "Broots, tell me you have good news. Now."

"A-Actually, Miss Parker, it's bad."

"Wonderful." She poured herself a cup of coffee and turned to her coworker, a predatory smile on her face. "Enlighten me."

"I'll be glad to, sister o' mine," said Lyle from his position at the railing. "Since you have been having . . .performance problems recently, I decided to call in a group of professionals." He beckoned with his left hand, and a trio of young women entered the room. "Miss Parker, meet Dylan, Alex, and Natalie. They're here to actually retrieve our research. You'll be working with them on a temporary basis." Lyle stood to the side and watched as they descended the staircase, ogling the Asian one.

"We've already got the facts down. We just wanted to ask you a few questions," said Alex, ignoring the stares.

"I understand you grew up with Jarod. How well do you know him?" Dylan smiled coyly at Broots, who jumped up and offered her his chair.

"Well enough," she bit out, wishing more than ever that she had not quit smoking.

"Why would he steal research from the Centre," asked Alex.

"Wonderboy is a genius. He came up with most of the research that's missing. I suppose that he felt he was entitled to it." Miss Parker smiled cynically.

"What do you think his next move will be?"

"Listen, sister, if I knew what his next move would be, I would have caught him already." Parker headed for the doors. "When you have real questions, call me. Broots, come on." The nervous hacker followed her up the stairs. "Lyle, when your gals here are done, I'll be in sublevel 10."

"Sorry about that," said Lyle, flashing a smile at Alex. "She's . . .difficult to work with. Say, how about I take you out to dinner to make up for it."

"Maybe. What do you say, girls?" Alex smiled internally at Lyle's expression when the other Angels agreed.

________________________

< Logan, that's the new teacher. Open the gate and be nice. >

< Sure, Chuck. >

"So you're the Dr. Greene, huh?"

< And keep Victandra occupied, please. >

< Don't know where she is. >

"Call me Jarod."

"Are you all brains or do you know any self defense?"

"I'm a quick learner."

"Sure, whatever, I'm the teacher o' that kind of stuff and if you get the position, you'll have to know how to spar so the kids don't take you out accidentally."

"Are the students violent?"

"Nah, good kids, they take care of their own."

"Are you one of their own?"

"Me?" Jarod and Logan had reached the door of the school. It was opened before they touched the doorknob. The woman at the door answered for Logan.

"No, Dr. Greene, Logan is the drill sergeant that works their tails off."

"At least I give them a true workout, Shorty. You look like . . . Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"Logan, dredge up some semblance of manners and introduce me."

Jarod had been enjoying the easy camaraderie of the tough, built, cigar-smoking man and the delicate, obviously pregnant young lady. Their history was apparent, though odd. Jarod had never seen a more mismatched pair. "Dr. Jarod Greene, ma'am."

"Daria Osbourne, I'm the English teacher."

"May I ask how far along you are?"

"No. You have an appointment with Chuck. See-ya Shorty. If you are not in bed by lunch I'll sic your husband or Zoo on you."

"Bye, Logan. If you'll just follow me Dr. Greene."

"Jarod, please. Is Mr. Uhmm Logan always that way?"

"Logan Slayer, yes he is a character, his nickname around here is Wolverine."

"It fits." Daria chuckled and turned yet another corner, and collided with two giggling girls.

"Sorry Mrs. O."

"You OK Mrs. O?"

"Just fine Lyetta, Jubilee."

"That's good, who's the hunk?"

"Dr. Greene is applying for the open faculty position." The girls exchanged an evil grin.

"That's cool."

"Good luck Dr Greene, You'll need it."

"Thank you ladies, I hope to see you soon." Jarod was uncomfortable as the girls exchanged another scheming look.

"We're hoping too. Bye."

"Sorry about that Dr. Greene, the students, like any other set, believe in pulling harmless practical jokes on the faculty. Or in your case potential faculty."

"What jokes have they executed on you?"

"Because of my delicate condition, I'm off limits for the time being, but if you get the job I'll share what they did to my husband last week." Daria smiled to herself at the memory, stopped and rapped at a pair of oak double doors.

"Please enter, Mrs. Osbourne."

"Professor Charles Xavier, Dr Jarod Greene. Dr. Greene, Dr. Xavier. I'll leave you now."

"Thank you Daria. Please be seated Dr Greene. May I see your credentials?" The professor accepted the stack of papers and flipped through them. "Most impressive, you also have an MD."

"Yes, sir."

"You have accomplished much for one so young."

Jarod grinned, "Blame it on my IQ, Dr. Xavier."

"It says here that you only tutored gifted students, not taught."

"I have taught challenged students in the inner city."

"You would not have the discipline problems that one would find in troubled schools."

"So, I have the position."

"Dr. Greene, you do fulfill all the educational requirements. But . . ."

"But?"

"We have several students who are disfigured and I hesitate to expose them to a potentially degrading learning atmosphere."

"Sir, I am a professional and . . ."

"Dr. Greene, we will attempt to gauge your compatibility with our students and then discuss whether or not you'll be staying. Our first stop will be the student recreation room." < Emily, is everyone in the common room supposed to be there? >

< Yes, Father. Skin is present and Victandra is not. >

< If he provides a satisfactory reaction to Angelo, Dr. Greene will become part of our faculty. He is a mutant, unknowingly, but is very curious. >

________________________

"And this will be your room, Jarod. Unfortunately, the men's wing is currently full, so we've placed you in the married couples section. This should only be temporary. Daria and Daniel Osbourne are on your left; Logan and Faith Slayer are on your right. Lyetta here will be your guide until you get settled in." Jean gestured to the teenage girl. "If you have any questions, she's the one to ask."

"What do I do for meals?"

"Breakfast is at seven, lunch at noon, dinner at six. We take turns cooking, so we'll put you on the end of the rotation. Lyetta, could you make sure he finds the dining room?" Jean rushed out, intent on starting the rumor mill moving.

Jarod looked at the girl that remained in the hallway. "Is Mrs. Summers always like that?"

"You should meet her niece. She's that way, only more so." Lyetta smiled cheerfully. "Do you need help unpacking?"

"Um, no thank you. I think I have it under control." He watched uncomfortablely as she picked out a spot in the hallway and leaned against the wall, eyes trained on his door.

"Are you leaving the door open?"

"Is there any reason to do so?"

"Have you ever seen Sound of Music?"

"No, why?"

"You might want to see it soon, it's in the common room when you have time. But to quote Lisle, 'Marta can climb up the trellis with a whole jar of spiders.'"

"Excuse me? So why leave the door open?" Jarod was still confused.

"So I can tell the others how well you react to practical jokes." Lyetta sighed at the new professor's lack of culture, but after all, a weakness was a great opportunity for a practical joke.

"Were you part of the contingent that preformed one on Mr. Osbourne?"

"Yeah, I helped pull that."

"What happened?"

"Wait a sec," Lyetta rapped on the next door down the hall, "Mrs. O, you in there?"

"Lyetta?"

"Yeah, Dr. Greene wants to know what we did to Mr. O and I . . ." Lyetta trailed off as the door opened. "Would you rather tell it?" she offered.

"Yes, I would . . ."

"Hey, look what I found."

"What is it Dr Greene?"

"A non-poisonous viper in the top of the dresser. Would the professor let me keep it as a pet?"

"Well, that was a bust."

"The problem with retaining a snake as a pet is that Faith has a tendency to kill them."

"Oh, that is regretful."

"I still think you should keep it, Dr. Greene, snakes make good pets."

"Quick recovery Lyetta, but please behave."

"So what are the characteristics of practical jokes? And how will I know when ones being played on me?"

"I can't believe he just asked that question," Lyetta looked at the snake and grinned. "Then again, I can."

"Dr. Greene . . ."

"Jarod, please."

"Well Jarod, that snake was an attempt at a practical joke."

"And if you keep it, it will be a good joke, only on Faith."

"I still do not comprehend."

"Mrs. O maybe if you tell what we did to Mr. O, the doc would get it."

"You understand that telling this is almost like breaking marital confidence, right?"

"If you don't tell, I will."

"Very well. It all started a month ago . . ."

________________________

Oz was instantly alert as he felt a hand touch his shoulder. He sat up quickly and smiled at his wife, who was sitting on the bed next to him. "It's time to get up, honey," she said, giving him a quick kiss before standing up and heading toward the closet. "Next time you decide to stay up and keep me company while I grade papers, think about it again. You, my dear husband, were way too much of a distraction last night."

"Last night?"

"Yes, last night. Remember? We headed down to the kitchen at 2:30 in the morning and had ultimate nachos?" Oz shook his head as he got out of bed. "Huh. You must have started sleepwalking, I guess. We'll have to start watching out for that." Daria slipped a loose cotton top over her head and headed toward the dresser for her hairbrush. "I will say this, though. I may be pregnant, but you can still out eat me. Between the two of us, we put away a ton of food last night."

"You're eating for two humans. I'm eating for a human and a seven-foot wolf." Oz buttoned up his shirt as he headed into the bathroom to brush his teeth. < Now that she mentions it, I can remember planning to stay up and keep her company while she graded. Hope I didn't promise to reroof the mansion. > Finger-combing his hair, he headed back into the bedroom and gestured to the door. "Breakfast awaits, milady."

"Thank you, kind sir." The two headed down the stairs towards the kitchen and breakfast. Jean was going through the cabinets frantically when they arrived.

"I could have sworn that I had enough nachos here for lunch," she said. "I made a special trip to the store two days ago so I'd be ready. What happened to them?"

Daria felt her face begin to turn pink. "Umm, we got hungry. Well, I got hungry. Oz was sleepwalking, apparently. He doesn't remember any of it."

"I hope this doesn't become a habit," muttered Jean, grabbing her keys and heading out to her car.

Oz was aware of a whispering undercurrent as he taught his classes for the day, and he kept his eyes open for the prank he was sure that they were plotting. When he arrived at dinner and spotted the large fake tarantula resting on his plate, he had what he'd been looking for. Picking it up and setting it aside, he ignored the pouting glares from Lyetta and Jubilee and began to fill his plate.

"That was one of our best ones," said Emily, frowning at the short man. "When we did it to Rogue, she practically destroyed the table trying to kill it."

"You need to be more creative."

"Oh, we'll try."

Over the next few weeks, the reported incidences of Oz's sleepwalking increased, as well as the amounts of missing food. All the blame was laid at Oz's door. Logan started sleeping lighter to protect the kitchen. Oz woke up several times as Logan was dragging him back to his room. To make matters worse, Oz's clothes started getting tighter. The students started teasing him about his growing waistline, though Daria insisted that nothing had changed from the day she married him. Several other minor practical jokes were pulled, only on Oz, in the following two-week duration. Even so Oz started to get worried.

"Daria?"

"Hmm?"

"What should I do?"

"About what?"

"About this sleepwalking and eating."

Daria put her pen down and turned away from her grading, looking at him as he sat on the bed. "This really bothers you, doesn't it?"

He nodded. "I hate losing control like this."

"First of all, Oz, I'm definitely not the person who can talk about expanding waistlines," she said, standing up and walking over to him with one small hand on the belly that was beginning to peek out. She straddled him, wrapping her arms around her neck as he looped his arms around her waist. "Secondly, nothing about you has changed, physically." She paused for a moment, kissing him lightly. "Your clothes, on the other hand, were all shrunk by the students."

Oz was silent for a moment. "I've been had, haven't I?"

"Mm-hmm. I couldn't turn down the opportunity to help mess with that brilliant mind of yours."

His arms tightened around her waist. "You realize that your time will come."

"I was hoping you would let me atone by helping with the revenge that I know you're already planning. What are you planning?" He whispered his idea into her ear. "Oh, that is truly evil!" Daria kissed him and slipped off the bed to the floor. "I humbly bow before the master of all practical jokes."

________________________

Jarod had a faint smile on his face as he listened to the woman tell her story. "So what did he do?"

"What did who do?" Oz came up behind his wife and slipped a hand around her waist. "Hey, love."

"Oz, this is Dr. Jarod Greene, the new professor here at the school. Jarod, this is my husband, Daniel Osbourne." She waited while they exchanged nods. "I was telling Jarod about the prank that they pulled on you two weeks ago."

"She was just getting to the one that you pulled on us, Mr. O." Lyetta had turned an interesting shade of red.

"I claim that one," said Oz. "The idea was truly hatched in the teacher's meeting the next afternoon. After I explained what had been done, the others were more than willing to make sure it never got pulled on them."

"The students have this nasty habit of replaying jokes that work on different faculty members," added Daria.

"The morning after that meeting, we began our counterattack."

________________________

Emmy looked down at the half of a grapefruit that had been placed before her. "Mrs. Summers, what's this?"

"It's half of a grapefruit." Jean smiled sweetly down at the girl. "You see, since Oz has started putting on a little weight, he decided to go on a diet. The other teachers decided that he shouldn't have to suffer alone, so everyone in the mansion is on a diet."

"Except for me," said Daria, setting down a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast at her place. "Hank won't let me do the solidarity thing."

"I should think not, Mrs. Osbourne," began Hank, only to be cut off by the voice of Rogue.

"We'll be collectin' everyone's junk food stashes while y'all are in classes. Oz thinks he'll smell 'em while he's sleepwalkin'." Jubilee looked at Paige in horror.

________________________

"They lasted a week before they caved," finished Oz, a smirk on his face as he looked at Lyetta.

"One whole week of eating nothing but health food, while Mrs. O ate these wonderful meals in front of us. Bobby was ready to give up the first day. I tell you, Dr. Greene, it was pure torture."

"So did anyone actually lose weight during that week-long 'diet'?"

"A couple of the girls did."

"I made Oz eat full meals to make sure he didn't. I like him just the way he is, not rail-thin." She looked up at her husband, a tiny smile on her face. "If anything, I need to figure out a way to fatten him up some." Seeing the confused look on Jarod's face, Daria decided to explain her comment to the man. "Oz has a metabolism that's about twice that of most people."

"So I eat twice as much."

"You'll probably get a first hand look at dinner tonight," Lyetta joked.

________________________

"Good evening, everyone. I trust that you have been making the acquaintance of our newest professor, Jarod Greene. He will be taking over our chemistry classes. Also, since Hank will be out of town for the next three weeks, he will be responsible for medical assistance." Charles looked over his adopted family, gauging their reaction before he plunged into the next topic. "Jean has made a suggestion that I feel will be beneficial to the school. There will be a formal function celebrating our certification next week. Those who have donated financially to the school will be invited, as will the press. You will all be expected to attend unless a valid excuse can be made."

"I call perimeter duty," Logan said immediately.

"I believe it is my turn to guard the perimeter," said Bishop, a glint in his eye.

"Tough. You can stick with your little guard room."

"I will logically be the better choice, since you will not be able to walk!"

"Stuff it, Bishop!"

Jarod watched the two men with interest. "What's the big deal about perimeter duty?"

"It is not the perimeter duty, Jarod. It is the formalwear." Ororo looked on, amused at the antics.

"You do realize, Charles, that I will have to go shopping again." Daria did not look happy at the prospect. "Do you have any idea how much maternity formalwear costs?"

"Ah'll come along with ya, sugah."

___________________________

The red, glowing numbers of his bedside clock told Jarod that it was 3:36 in the morning. He slid out of bed and headed for his bedroom door. Placing his ear against it and hearing nothing, he silently opened the door, stepped into the hallway, and froze. Lying in the doorway to the Osbourne's room was a large black panther. Its green eyes were locked onto his own, and it stared at Jarod with quiet menace. This frozen moment seemed to be an hour to Jarod, but in reality was closer to five minutes. It was finally broken when the door opened to reveal Oz in his boxer shorts, a bit of stubble on his face. He nimbly stepped over the animal. "Morning Victandra, Jarod."

"What brings you out this morning?" Jarod grinned easily, looking for all the world like he was getting ready for a very early morning jog.

"Daria has a craving. Grilled cheese sandwich. You?"

"Couldn't sleep. New place. I figured I'd head out for a jog, get a look at the grounds."

"Have you been logged into the computer banks yet?"

"No, why?"

"The doors are locked until five. Once you go out, you can't get back in.

"Jarod was about to reply when the other door was opened.

"Oz, everything OK?" Logan looked somewhat concerned as he stepped outside his room, clad in sweatpants.

"She has a grilled cheese craving." Logan nodded in understanding, then turned his attention to Jarod.

"Couldn't sleep."

"Oz?" The man in question turned, a half smile on his face. "Is something wrong out here?" Daria stood in the doorway in her cotton nightshirt.

"Jarod couldn't sleep."

"I see. How about the grilled cheese?"

"Coming up."

"Somehow I get the idea that it will come up a lot faster if I do it myself. Coming, Victandra?" She headed down the hallway; both Oz and the panther following close behind.

"Logan," purred a husky voice from the other room, "it's getting cold in here." Jarod found himself alone in the hallway.

"I think I'll go back to bed and try again."

________________________

Alfred opened the drapes in his employer's bedroom, allowing the late morning sunshine to pour into the room. "Good morning, Master Bruce. The mail just arrived. Would you care to check through it with your morning tea?"

"Yes, Alfred." Bruce sat up and got out of bed. Alfred winced at the sight of several large, dark bruises.

"Rough night, sir?"

"You could say that. There is a new element in Gotham and nothing seems to slow it down. I actually shot at one last night. Didn't faze him a bit. I was forced to strategic retreat."

"Well, sir, you'd best relax and research today. Enjoy your tea."

"Thank you, Alfred."

"Hmm, a request for money, a death threat from Joker, another request for money, what's this? Oh, yes a thank you note for my generous donation from that Gifted School. And personal thank yous from two of the students the Wayne Scholarship assisted. Only two? Ah what's this but an invitation to Xavier for a banquet celebrating their certification? Probably should see what they are doing with my money and if Sam Guthrie and Jubilation Lee really exist."

________________________

"Lane! Kent! Olsen! Office!" Perry White bellowed into the newsroom. Lois and Clark looked up from their desks, shrugged, and headed toward Perry's office, Jimmy following closely on their heels. "Read this." Lois scanned the card, and then looked up, a skeptical look on her face.

"Really, Chief, isn't this Cat's department?"

"Well, if you want to give up the chance for an exclusive with either Bruce Wayne or the elusive Charles Xavier, be my guest." Perry reached for the card, not surprised when Lois jerked it out of reach.

"Why didn't you say that in the first place?"

________________________

After discovering that most of the people in the mansion were light sleepers, Jarod decided to investigate during the daytime. He had been politely but firmly escorted out of any place that he would really rather search. Now, at 2:00 in the afternoon, he might actually get some research done. Anyone not teaching was preparing for the banquet and most of the students were currently taking a calculus final. He had about an hour to discover how Amy Hull died and why. The computer system was quite impressive, with more protective measures than the Centre. Jarod was positive that the surveillance, both in and out of the school was equally impressive. He just hadn't found it yet. Just then, a German Shepherd wandered in. Like most of the animals that Jarod had been introduced to, this one was named Zoo or Vic depending on who was addressing the animal. Jarod had become pretty good friends with this household pet. The dog liked her bacon well done, and didn't like Cheese Wiz as the one firehouse dog did. The dog had pretty much free reign over the house. Jarod wished the dog could talk about her home. After thirty minutes of fruitless endeavor, Jarod absently scratched the dog's ears. He took a deep breath and tried again.

________________________

Across the school, in the middle of a derivation of x-prime, Lyetta and Emmy suddenly started to laugh.

"Girls." Scott voice immediately brought them back to their present surroundings.

"Sorry Scott." They apologized in unison. They glanced at each other and started their giggling again.

"Is there a joke in the test?"

"Nope, but maybe you should talk to Vic about broadcasting while we're taking exams."

"Do I want to know?"

"Vic is watching Dr. Greene attempt to infiltrate the security."

"Watching?"

"Hank and Bishop and Vic made it pretty much impossible and genius boy is frustrated."

"Does Zoo want someone to find Dr. Greene?"

"No, it's under control."

"Then I suggest that you finish your final exam before the time runs out."

The girls pout, exchange on last grin and then return to the integration of e^2x.

________________

"Victandra Xavier, you are my daughter and you will behave as such!" From his post outside the office, Ymmit winced. He had cajoled Victandra for over two hours before she had agreed to meet somewhere private. In the end, Scott had caught the two of them kissing in the laundry room, told Jean of his discovery, and then the professor had found out. Add to that Zoo's cool announcement that she refused to conform to the formal attire this evening, and the resulting battle had proved explosive in nature. < For two people who seem to be in total control, they lose their tempers quite a bit with each other. > His musings were cut short when the door slammed open and his betrothed left the room, her face a stone mask. She shifted into her panther form and continued to stalk through the mansion, Ymmit at her heels. Shifting back into human form when she reached the training room, she instantly began to attack the sandbag. Ymmit watched for a bit, then silently moved in to give her a sparring partner, lifting his wings. When she had calmed down, they sat down together on the bench.

"Want to talk about it?" At her glare, he backed off. "So what are you going to do?" She morphed herself into a large German Shepherd. "Your father will not like that." She snorted, and then loped out of the room. "Somehow, I have the feeling that this is going to backfire." < But the kiss was worth it. >

________________________

Daria sorted through the small collection of jewelry on the dresser, finally discovering the black velvet box she was looking for. Dropping it into the bag on the bed, she crossed over to the closet and awkwardly knelt down.

"What's up?"

"I'm looking for my shoes," she replied, holding up one while continuing to rummage for the other. "Jean told me I couldn't wear my boots." Finally finding the item she was looking for, she began her struggle to stand up, Oz giving silent support. He gave her a quick kiss, continuing to hold her close. "Aren't you supposed to be in the kitchen? Something smells delicious."

"Ororo kicked me out. Where's your dress?"

"In Jean's room. The others decided to make this like a prom and help each other get ready."

"What's in the bag?"

"I didn't have any lingerie that fit right." Oz raised an eyebrow, a half-smile forming. "You'll see it later." Daria gave him another kiss, and then stepped away. "You better get dressed."

________________________

Charles nervously straightened his tie and smoothed the lapels of his tuxedo. The coming event was reason enough for his apprehension, but he was more worried over Victandra's reaction to their fight earlier. < She's as stubborn as I ever was. > He looked up at the doors of the ballroom when the women entered. The students, who would be playing the parts of waiters and waitresses for the night, were all clad in black and white, and they laughed and chattered as they walked through into the dining room and down toward the kitchen. From the surface thoughts he had been picking up all day, he understood that the female faction of the team had taken the opportunity to "go glam", as he had heard from Jubilation. The murmurings coming from the tuxedo-clad men said that the ladies' effort had not gone unappreciated. Oz and Daria were standing to his right. Rogue and Jean had whisked her away early this morning to go shopping, and from the looks they were sharing over their respective husband's heads, it looked as if they felt their venture had been a success. Charles had no idea, of course, of the difficulty they had encountered when talking her into trying on something that was not her usual style. The dress in question had an empire waist and a long, slightly full skirt to accommodate her pregnancy. The bodice was emerald green satin with short sleeves. Over the skirt of ivory satin was a similar skirt of green chiffon. The effect was understated, but breathtaking, and obviously not lost on Oz. Charles turned away from the young couple and concentrated on the others. "May I have your attention? Excuse me? Attention?"

"It's a lost cause, Chuck," said Faith, stunning in a short black dress that had been borrowed from Rogue. "These women worked hard for that attention."

Charles smiled what can only be described as an evil smile. "About your paychecks," he said softly. Immediately the talking ceased and twelve pairs of eyes locked onto him.

Someone in the crowd thought, < The professor has been hanging around his girls too long. >

Charles could not identify the source and so he continued, "now that I have your attention, I would like to thank you all for being so gracious about this. I have just been informed by Logan that our guests are now beginning to arrive, so please be on your best behavior."

Meanwhile, in the security office, Bishop watched the televised image of the gate as the cars pulled through. "This was a bad idea," he said to his companion. Zoo blinked her green eyes in agreement as the instruments scanned the first arrivals. At the sight of the katana and a longsword strapped to the man's back, Bishop reached for his gun only to feel Zoo's teeth on his hand. "You know him?" The German Shepherd wagged her tail. "Very well." Bishop checked the man's name on the guest list. "Duncan Macleod and friend." Duncan's friend, a tall brunette in a red glittering sheath, looked familiar to Bishop, but he set aside the thought and concentrated on the next guests. "Lex Luthor and friend." Bishop had met the oily billionaire before, and he wondered how much he had paid for such a lovely redhead. "Bruce Wayne." Bishop remembered him from the generous donation he had made to the school, which had provided for Jubilee, Sam, Paige, Angelo, and a young genius that the professor had found, Jordan, who was researching with Hank and Moira. "Tony Stark and friend." Tony was an old friend of Hank's. "William Lewis and friend." William was an honestly nice man who kept a low profile and had donated the bulk of an inheritance to the school. His wife made a killer chocolate chip cookie. "Now we start with the press. Peter Parker, with a staff reporter." Zoo wagged her tail, recognizing the young man who masqueraded as Spiderman. "Lois Lane, Clark Kent, and Jimmy Olsen." Lane and Olsen were clean, but Kent had a super dense molecular structure. Bishop and Zoo looked at each other, then Zoo hopped down from her chair and headed out the door. "I guess she's got that one covered."

________________________

"Daria! Why didn't you let me know?" Duncan dragged Amanda over to Oz and Daria, smiling as he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I guess the lines of communication broke down when you and Amy broke up. How have you been, Duncan?"

He shrugged. "The usual. You're not hunting now, are you?"

"I wouldn't be much good. How'd you get invited to this?"

"Gave some money a while back. It's not often I get to rub elbows with the likes of Luthor and Wayne, though."

"Now he's a handsome man," purred Amanda. "I thought about dumping the Boy Scout to go after him for an entire second."

Oz's eyes narrowed. "There's something not right about him."

"The baby and I are thirsty. Why don't you go get us a glass of ice water from the drinks table?" Daria raised an eyebrow at him. "Duncan, you go with him, make sure he doesn't get lost."

"She's not doing too well, is she," asked Duncan as they threaded through the crowd.

"You'll never get her to admit that, but she isn't. Hank's been railing at her because she's underweight. He says she's either eating too little or doing too much."

"No chance of getting her to slow down?"

"Nope." They finally reached the table, and Oz used the relative silence to concentrate on Wayne's scent. The smell of gunpowder could be explained away, as could the scent of blood, but the barely detectable vampire dust was a dead giveaway. He had tracked the man's motions, and they were a little too coordinated for the pampered playboy he pretended to be. Wayne was too observant, too aware of his surroundings. His mission was accomplished, so he leaned against the table with Duncan for a moment, watching the two women across the room. Duncan sighed.

"You're a lucky man, Oz."

Oz watched Daria as she talked to Amanda, a half-smile on his face. "I know." The pair went back to their respective halves, water glasses in hand. Oz wrapped his arms around his wife from behind, handing her the liquid, kissed her on the cheek, and whispered into her ear, "Wayne's a member of the spandex club. Should we be nice, or have fun?" A sparkle was in her eyes as Daria turned to her husband. "All it takes is a quick little chat with Victandra."

"Where is Victandra," asked Duncan.

"She had a fight with Charles."

________________________

From her hiding place beneath the drinks table, Zoo watched the small enclave of reporters comparing notes. She had announced herself to Peter, and listened happily as he purposefully lead them away from the truth. Clark Kent was still puzzling her, but the others had a refreshingly normal scent. Just as she was about to head back to the security booth, Zoo's ears pricked up when she caught Lois Lane's whispered comment. "I'll be right back."

"Lois," came his half-growled warning, but she was already nonchalantly moving toward the doorway of the ballroom. Zoo began to follow, but paused when her sensitive ears picked up another conversation.

"Natalie, are you in position? Good. Move now." The Asian woman moved through the crowd toward Jarod.

< Emmy, Asian woman. > Zoo watched in satisfaction as her sister intercepted Alex, talking animatedly about this wonderful chance to meet people, and weaved her way across the room.

Lois had already found Charles' office and was rapidly picking the lock on the door. She smiled at her success, entered the office, and made her way to the desk. "Let's see, electric bill, water bill, receipt for groceries. Nothing there." Lois picked up a letter from the desk and started to unfold it, but stopped when she heard a creak. She could not stifle the small shriek that came to her lips when she felt her skirt being tugged.

Zoo had clamped down on the loose fabric of the woman's dress and was insistently pulling her from the room despite Lois' efforts to stop this action. Once they were both out of the room, Zoo plopped down in the doorway, blocking her attempts to return.

"Lois, I heard you. What's wrong?" Zoo looked up at Clark in alarm and silently called for Time.

"This animal won't let me into the room, Clark. I was just getting started and it pulled me away, and I think it may have damaged my dress." She took a breath, ready to continue, but Clark held up his hand.

"Someone's coming." Lowering his glasses, he did a quick x-ray sweep into the next hallway, then pushed his glasses back up and quickly led his wife back to the ballroom, barely missing Time.

"What was that all about?" Zoo looked up silently and broadcast a mental picture of the recent events. "Really? We've got to tell Father about this." Zoo snorted and loped past her sister, intent on heading back to the ballroom. "Is this about the fight you two had?" Zoo stopped, looked at her sister, and then continued walking. "Vic, I'm talking to you!"

Daria was immersed in her favorite activity, people watching, when she felt a cold, wet nose on her hand. "Victandra!" The German Shepherd sat down at her feet and smiled a doggy smile. "Charles isn't going to like this," she said as she returned to her reconnaissance. Something about the scent of the party was a little off, and she was examining the group carefully, searching for the missing piece. < Hmm, a missing piece. That's it! It's a non-scent, a witch's scent. Faith, could you come with me? >

< What's up, Daria? >

Daria smiled in spite of herself. < There's a natural witch somewhere around here. Would you like to come with Victandra and me? >

< Sure! I'm dying for some action. >

Daria looked over at Oz, who was currently talking to that Lewis man and his wife, and debating interrupting him. Deciding against it, she quietly left the room and waited out in the hallway for Faith to make her more dramatic exit. The oddly matched pair moved quickly into the labyrinthine hallways that characterized the mansion, Daria's senses tuned to following a nonexistent trail. < She's in the main computer room. > < You're sure it's a she? >

Daria wrinkled her nose. < She's wearing perfume. >

Faith opened the door and allowed Victandra to enter first, then followed closely behind. "Hey," she said, greeting the tall blonde sitting at the computer. "I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to be here."

"I was curious," she shrugged, not moving from her spot.

"The man in charge of security will be desperately trying to find his system flaw. Would you mind coming with us and telling him?" Daria stood in the doorway.

Natalie weighed her options. "Sure." Daria motioned the girl to come along, then turned to Zoo. "Victandra, would you check out the other hallways, check for intruders?" The dog barked once and headed off.

"Wow! That's a smart dog."

"You don't know the half of it," muttered Faith. "I'll take drag."

"Very well. What was your name?"

"Natalie."

"I'm Daria. Would you come with me, please?" The trio of women headed toward the security office, Faith falling behind to cover the others. Daria could smell the Slayer coming closer as they neared the door. < Faith . . . > any further comment she might have made was cut off when a tall redhead hurled herself from the overhead vent. Knocking Daria over and pinning her, she gave one blow to the temple and knocked her unconscious.

"That was easy," said Dylan, standing up and brushing herself off. She turned to Natalie, who was looking on in horror. "What?"

A reverberating panther scream distracted both women, and Dylan's eyes widened as a large black panther raced down the corridor and sprang toward her. Natalie heard her half-strangled curse as the cat threw her to the ground and held her there. A large man with a large gun burst from the office. "Zoo, do not kill her!"

After sprinting to the scene and taking it in, Faith muttered a string of profanities that made Natalie turn pink. "Vic, don't kill her. I'll go get Oz and the Doc." The brunette had barely disappeared when Oz came running into the passage. Natalie blinked rapidly; for a moment, he had seemed . . .fuzzy. But when she looked again, he was clear, so she dismissed the idea as fancy. The short man knelt down and gently lifted the slight woman.

"Don't worry, love," he murmured to his wife. "Bishop, I'm taking her to the infirmary. Victandra, don't kill her." The panther growled menacingly at the woman pinned beneath it. "I mean it. Charles will go nuts." Cradling his wife in his arms, he hurried toward the infirmary. Following on his heels was Jarod, who Bishop redirected. The grouping sat in tense silence, Zoo's eyes never leaving Dylan's, until that silence was broken by Logan's gruff voice.

"Zoo, get off." The panther growled in the back of her throat. "Zoo, I'm not kidding." Another growl. Logan sighed, muttering about headstrong teenagers, and lifted the cat, tossing her to the ground. Zoo hissed at him as he picked Dylan up from the floor and roughly set her on her feet. "You better be glad Oz has more self-restraint than I do."

"I don't," said Faith, propelling her fist into Dylan's stomach.

"What the hell was that for," asked Dylan when she had regained her breath.

"Maybe it's because you broke into her home. Maybe 'cause she doesn't like your looks. But it's more likely due to the fact that you cold-cocked her best friend, who happens to be six months into a difficult pregnancy. Do ya think that could have anything to do with it? Bishop, keep these two with you."

"Mr. Luthor will miss me. I'm his date for the evening."

"You should have thought about that before you gave yourself a tour of the ventilation shafts. Faith, you up to entertainin' Luthor?"

"Sure."

"Just make sure he doesn't see the ring, darlin', and we may come out of this OK."

"Be right back," she said breathlessly, giving him a hard kiss before heading back into the ballroom. Logan turned back to the two infiltrators, watching as Bishop herded them into the office with the prodding of his weapon. Zoo had carried in a set of adamantium handcuffs, and licked her chops as Bishop threaded them through a ring set about a foot off the floor and fastened them onto the redhead's wrists. Satisfied that the pair was taken care of, she loped off.

< For anyone who hadn't grown up in the Centre, these pathways would be impossible to navigate, > mused Jarod, locating the infirmary quickly. Daria was lying on the examination table, Oz standing next to her head. < Dr. McCoy definitely keeps this place well organized. > Jarod quickly found the vial he was looking for and a clean needle.

"What are you giving her?"

"A mild sedative, to keep her unconscious until I've determined the extent of her injuries." Jarod drew the proper dosage and reached for her arm. Oz grabbed his hand to stop him.

"She's allergic to most sedatives."

Jarod put the needle down. "Can I look at her records?" Oz shook his head in the negative.

"The paper work doesn't have that information and Hank keeps the important things encrypted on his hard drive."

"I need to know what I can give her."

"Short of a second blow to the head, I can't think of anything."

"Oz?" Daria's eyes were opened and looking up at her husband.

"Here, love. Do you remember what happened?"

"I was taking that blonde girl down to Bishop, and was ambushed. If my face looks as bad as it feels we're going to have to get Jean to do a retouch on my makeup." She gingerly touched her slightly swollen left cheek. Jarod winced at the sight of the bruising already beginning to show.

"No retouching. You're not going back out." Oz tried his best to look firm. Daria sighed.

"Look, I don't have a concussion. I can remember everything that happened, and I can touch my finger to my nose." She demonstrated this for him. "Besides, I've been smelling dinner for the past hour, and I'm starving."

"No."

"Yes."

"Why don't you let me do an examination?" Jarod broke into the argument. "If I don't see any problems, she can head back to the party. If I do, she goes to bed." The couple looked at each other, and then both agreed to the arrangement. Jarod ran through the examination in record time. In the end, Daria was triumphant and Oz resigned. Carefully easing herself from the table, she headed for the door, Oz's hand on the small of her back.

"Victandra, I'm going back to the party." The panther looked up, patently unimpressed. "Victandra, please move." The panther yawned. "Jarod checked me over. I'm fine." No movement from the cat. "Fine." She nimbly stepped over Zoo, Oz following hesitantly. Zoo followed behind for a few moments, then dashed ahead to block them. Daria sighed. "Look, if you want to be helpful, go find Jean so she can help me cover this bruising. And quit looking at me in that tone of voice." Zoo looked indecisive for a moment, then headed up toward the ballroom, morphing back into a German Shepherd out of Jarod's sight. Daria turned to Oz. "You can stop laughing at me at any time." Oz chuckled softly and gently steered his wife toward the ladies room.

________________________

Bruce Wayne looked around the room, bored to tears. The only interesting event so far was the replacement of Luthor's date, which he had found terribly amusing. Lex had not yet noticed the wedding ring on her left hand, which lead Bruce to believe that the striking brunette was merely enjoying herself, toying with the fifth richest man in the world. Lex had never been the brightest light bulb in the bunch when it came to women.

He had met several of the faculty members now. They all seemed friendly, but something was a little off. After a carefully casual examination of the security system, he decided to pay a visit after hours. Sure, he could probably ask for a tour, but this would be more enjoyable.

The doors into the dining room opened and a young Asian-American woman announced that they could take their seats for dinner. Bruce filtered in with the rest of the group, ending up across the table from a young couple that introduced themselves as Daria and Daniel Osbourne. They chatted amicably throughout the meal, but once again Bruce got the unusual and unpleasant feeling that they had seen all of his cards, and knew that their hand was better. Despite the seeming normalcy of the pair, he could not forget the undercurrent of secrecy. Even the charm of "Bruce Wayne, playboy" didn't end this sensation.

Daria was enjoying herself. After all, it wasn't every day that she got to have fun at the expense of the third richest man in the world. Add to that the deliciousness of the dinner and the presence of Oz at her side, and the evening had taken an amazing upturn since she had regained consciousness. "I made dessert just for you," whispered Oz, and she turned to examine the tray Sam brought around. Looking longingly at the chocolate decadence that shared space with a spiced apple crisp, she chose the non-caffeinated dessert. Oz picked up a second plate with chocolate on it, and she glared at him. "I cleared it with Hank," he said, trading the plate with the one in front of her. "Hank said just this once." He watched in satisfaction as Daria demolished the dessert before her. He gave her hand a squeeze and turned to his own plate.

________________________

Charles watched the last of the guests leave with an overwhelming sense of relief. < Never again, > he thought, running through the events of the evening. < It is time to discover what these two invaders desire. > He concentrated on their minds, lightly scanning the surface, then gasped. < Jarod? They want Jarod? > Determined to discover why, he probed their minds deeper, then went into Jarod's mind. The dark images that flooded in made Charles shudder. < The same thing could have happened to me. We're only a generation apart. >

< Professor? >

< Yes? >

< There is a woman standing by the gate, looking at the camera. She appears to be holding an infant. >

< Any weapons? >

< None, sir. Jean has conducted a brief scan of her mind, and she seems both angry and a little frightened. She has been looking for Jarod. >

< Allow her to enter, but be on alert. I will have Faith meet her at the door. >

________________________

Miss Parker allowed herself to smile as the gates opened. Those three "Angels" that Lyle had hired had never realized that they were being followed. Holding the baby her father had named Samuel closer to her chest; she slipped through the open gates and walked down the winding driveway. < I hope Jarod will hear me out. > Walking up to the front door, she pressed the doorbell with her index finger. "I need to see Jarod."

"Come with me," said Faith, holding the door open for her. Miss Parker looked around as she crossed the threshold, years of Centre training forcing her to plot out possible escape routes. She was shown into a small room near the door. "I'll tell Jarod you're here."

Sitting down in a comfortable chair, Parker loosened the blankets around Samuel and reached into the oversized purse at her feet, producing a fresh diaper. "Might as well take the opportunity now," she muttered, doing the job with the efficiency she had mastered over the past several days. She spread his blanket out at her feet and set him on his back, pacifier firmly in his mouth, then straightened and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. A look that a week ago would have been a shock was now familiar. Her black hair was chopped into a pageboy and dyed dark blonde. Instead of the dramatic makeup she favored, her face was washed clean and half-hidden with heavy glasses frames and windowpane lenses. Replacing her customary tight-fitting business suits and spiked heels were a pair of baggy, faded jeans, T-shirt, flannel shirt, and clunky work boots. If only it had been as easy to leave behind her persona of Miss Parker and reclaim the person she had been before her mother died. She looked around for a wastebasket for the diaper. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a movement and suddenly a large German Shepherd, holding a trashcan in its mouth, appeared at her elbow. "Well, that's convenient."

"You wanted to see me?" Parker turned and looked at him. An overgrown child, the Boy Scout that was the undoing of Miss Parker. "Do I know you?" A laugh bubbled out.

"I really must be good at this. Even you don't recognize me." His eyes widened as he recognized her voice.

"Parker?" He took an unconscious step backward. She shook her head.

"Not anymore." She sat down easily on the floor beside the blanket. The dog flopped down beside her. "Miss Parker is gone." She laughed again at his puzzled bemusement, and then paused for a moment. "I've been doing that a lot more, recently. Even with all that's happened. Sit down, Jarod. I'll tell you everything. I know all the secrets now." When Jarod was comfortable, she cleared her throat and began, absentmindedly scratching the dog behind the ears.

"I'll start with this young man. Samuel David Parker. Did you know that Brigitte carried this child, and died for her trouble? My father was the happiest I've ever seen him when this baby was born. It put him back in favor with the Triumvirate. Funny how I never saw the connection. He's our son, Jarod." She paused, venom and bitterness evident in her voice. "At the direction of my father, they took one of my eggs from storage and put it together with your sperm, then put the resulting child inside of Brigitte.

"That was the thread that began to unravel it all. I began searching through my father's records. 'Daddy' was always very thorough. He's known all along that your mother and sister were in Pennsylvania. He had Raines experiment with my mother because of her gifts. And he was the one that ordered Tommy killed. He was losing his hold on me.

"I've been so blind, Jarod, and I apologize for that. I didn't want to know all of this. But now my eyes are opened." She rose from her position next to the baby and crossed over to him. "I have three more things to tell you. The first is your last name, the second is my first name, and the third is . . ." she looked into his eyes, "I love you, Jarod Bowen. Can you forgive me?"

"Yes, I can." Jarod stood up and wrapped his arms around her waist. "I love you, too . . .what was your name again?" She blushed and whispered it into his ear.

"No one has called me that since my mother died."

"Then let me be the first." He began saying her name, at first whispering, then gradually getting louder. They separated rapidly at the knock. "Come in."

Daria entered, "Jarod, I'm sorry to disturb you, but Charles wants to see you both. He says it's urgent."

"Did he say what it was about?"

"It might have something to do with the woman who knocked me out earlier this evening," said Daria wryly. Noticing the dog on the floor next to the baby, she glared. "You have other places to be." The dog dawdled out of the room.

"Dammit, I forgot about them. Lyle hired a group of private detectives, codenamed the Angels. They don't know what they're involved with, though."

Daria looked up at the taller woman. "I don't believe we've been introduced. Daria Osbourne."

< No more secrets, > Parker told herself. "Lillian Parker. I'm an old friend of Jarod's."

Nodding, Daria turned to Jarod. "You know the way, Jarod. I'll see you in the morning. I have an appointment to curl up next to that handsome husband of mine. Lillian, it was wonderful to meet you. Enjoy your talk with Charles." She turned to go.

"Before you leave, can I check something?" He tipped her face toward the light, looking at her eyes, and then tilted her head to look at the side of her face. "You're going to have a black eye tomorrow morning."

"I figured. Next time I get knocked out I'll ask to be clubbed in the back of the head." She left the room and headed for the stairs, meeting up with her husband at the bottom. "Charles is going to tell them everything tonight."

"You sure?"

"Pretty sure. He unintentionally received some information from Jarod's mind. He and Lillian are both mutants, though not with the flashy powers that the rest of the team has."

"So we're still the resident non-mutants?"

"Looks that way." Daria entered their room and kicked her shoes off. "Help me out of this dress?"

"If you return the favor."

________________________

Lillian entered the room with a bit of trepidation. Fresh from the Centre's control, she was wary of secret meetings. Charles was sitting in his wheelchair, the large black panther at his side. His eyes softened when he saw Samuel. "May I?" He gestured toward the infant. She reluctantly placed the child in his arms. "I never had the chance to hold my daughters when they were small."

"You have children, sir?"

"Call me Charles, Jarod. Yes, I have children. Four daughters, all identical. Three of them live here at the school. Kinesia decided to stay with her mother. I'm afraid that Emily, Lyetta and Victandra have been playing a little joke on you." Zoo chose this juncture to revert back to human form, to both Jarod and Lillian's astonishment. "Shall I tell you everything?" They mutely nodded.

________________________

Daria lay in bed, feeling completely content. She could smell Oz, feel his arms around her, and hear his soft, regular breathing. She would never have imagined being this happy back in high school.

Her stomach growled insistently. Sighing, she slid from between the sheets and reached for her bathrobe. "Love," she heard Oz say.

"I'll be right back. I'm going to head down to the kitchen and grab a snack."

"Coming with." He began to crawl out of bed.

"Victandra and I need the chance to talk. She's out in the hallway. And you, my dear Mr. Osbourne, need to get some sleep."

"You sure?"

"Yes. I'll be back in a little bit." Daria slipped out the door. "I'm going to the kitchen, Victandra." She watched as the panther moved back into human form. "How did they take it?" The girl shrugged. "Did you make up with your father?" A nod. "That's good. You two are too much alike." The two women headed down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Lillian Parker sat, absently stirring a cup of tea. "Lillian?" Daria looked behind her, but Victandra was gone. "I hate when she does that," she grumbled.

"Early morning craving?"

"Something like that. Couldn't sleep?" Parker nodded. "It's a lot to take in at once. Would you like to talk about it?"

"Sure." The older woman watched as Daria quickly constructed a sandwich and poured herself a glass of milk.

"I'm under strict orders from Hank," she said, taking a sip from her milk. "I need to gain at least three pounds before he gets back, or he'll put me on total bed rest. Did Charles give you specifics, or generalities?"

"Generalities. I don't think I could handle any specifics right now." She raked her fingers through her short hair. "Everything's been happening so fast. This week, I got a taste of what Jarod's been going through for three years. I smuggled Sam out of the Centre, and drove from Delaware to Maine. In Maine I completely changed my appearance and abandoned my car in the woods. I walked to a nearby town and hotwired a car. I drove west until I ran out of gas, and then stole another one. When I reached California, I used what cash I had to buy a coach ticket on a plane to New York and hitchhiked the rest of the way. They haven't been able to catch up, but when they do . . ." she bit her lip, "I'm Centre property. The same goes for Samuel and Jarod. They'll do anything to recover their property."

"We don't let that happen to family. You and Jarod are family. It's as simple as that. Besides, I owe Jarod. He took my side when Oz and I had our little argument this evening. Now, where would you be the most comfortable sleeping?"

"I'm not sure."

"Well, there's the girls wing, or you could stay with Jarod. Ororo may have space in her room as well."

"The girls wing, for now."

"Let's head off, then," said Daria, standing up with difficulty. "You're going to need your sleep. You'll meet the rest of the family tomorrow." She cautiously made her way up the first flight of stairs, and then began climbing the second set, Parker following behind. "This is why we don't need a stair-climbing machine," she joked. "Your room is at the end of the hall." She moved slowly back down the stairs and down the hallway to her room. The light was on when she arrived, and Oz was sitting up in bed, reading a magazine.

"Couldn't get back to sleep." He watched as his wife got back into bed, then reached over and turned off the lights. "Nice talk?"

"With Lillian." She felt herself relax as he pulled her close and held her. Laying one hand gently on her stomach, he nuzzled a kiss into the crook of her neck.

"Love you."

"Love you too."

________________________

Bruce watched the red glow of the sentry's cigarette, shaking his head at the sloppiness of such a thing. When the light disappeared around the corner, he went over the gate and moved rapidly toward the mansion. The rustling of the bushes forced him to freeze. He glanced in that direction then felt a harsh 'thud' against his head and crumpled into unconsciousness.

"Look Cherie, 'tis the Dark Knight hisself!"

"Ah'm so flattered."

________________________

The black fuzziness that had enveloped Bruce slowly ebbed away. He shook his head to clear it, and then looked around. He was sitting on a cement floor, his back against a similar wall. Running his fingers across the handcuffs, his spirits fell further when he realized there was no lock to pick. The Batman was handcuffed to a wall without his utility belt. How the mighty had fallen.

"So what are you in for?" The redhead to his left had been fastened down in a similar position, just far enough away that they couldn't touch.

"Falling for a distraction."

"We're here because she acted without thinking," came a feminine voice on his other side. The tall blonde looked at her friend apologetically. "They would have let us go if you hadn't jumped her, Dylan."

"Yes, we would have." Bruce turned toward the deep voice. "You two will come with us." The brunette that had been entertaining Luthor the night before entered the room with a woman named Jean who held a remote control in her hand.

Jean pressed several buttons on the device, a cover for what she was really doing. Working in tandem with Faith, she mentally separated the cuffs while Faith pulled their hands free from the rings, and then fastened them together again.

"A word of advice. Vic is patrolling the corridors. I would remember her capabilities." Faith smirked at the redhead, who had suddenly gone pale. "Let's go, Red, Blondie." She led them through a maze of passageways into the upper levels of the mansion, straight to Xavier's office. Dylan had the sense of being brought to the principal's office in elementary school. Faith rapped twice, then brought her captives into the room and gestured for them to be seated. Logan half-carried in a struggling Alex and seated her next to the other two.

"Did you three ever bother to investigate who you were working for?" Lillian rose from her seat on the couch and walked in front of the trio.

"Of course! The Centre does medical research for the government. Research which Jarod stole, with intentions of selling it to Mexico. We always investigate clients, ever since that time when Dylan slept with this guy who - " Natalie was interrupted as Dylan kicked her, none too gently. "Hey! That hurt!"

"I didn't steal their research," said Jarod, opening the silver case. "I was their research." He selected a DSA and hit play. Lillian crossed over next to him and slipped her arm around his waist. "I was kidnapped when I was a child, forced to be a part of their experiments, the results of which were sold to the highest bidder."

"We're giving you a choice. You can work with us, or turn around and walk away, preferably away from the Centre."

"What would we say to Mr. Lyle," asked Alex.

"If I were you, I'd stay away from my brother. The Centre removes failed projects, but Lyle would have his own brand of fun with you before he finished the job." She shivered, contemplating what she knew that they would likely never find out. The images had haunted her, especially during the past week. < If there's one thing I want to make sure of, it's that he pays for what happened to those women. >

The Angels looked around at each other. "We'll help, on one condition."

"Yes?"

"Can we get a tour of this place? The computer system was out of this world!"

________________________

Bruce was alone in the surveillance room; he eyed the remote that Jean had laid on computer.

"Unless you are telekinetic, you are not going to make that remote come any nearer."

Bruce jerked his head at the sound of the voice. Identical oriental girls walked out of the shadows with the skill even Batman could envy.

"How did you enter?"

"Please, this is the spy closet . . ."

"Of course multiple exits exist."

"Are you going to release me so that someone can lecture me?"

"Nope." Bruce raised an eyebrow at the teenage euphemism. He was not operating well without the normal Batman menace. Realistically, not many people would be pass up the chance to heckle the Dark Knight in chains. He waited for the girls to elaborate. After several moments, one sighed. "Father is busy at the moment with the other intruders. We are supposed to keep you company." After receiving no response, the twin tried a new track. "What's your favorite way to kill vamps?"

"Excuse me?"

"You know, vampires. Ridged forehead, fangs, turn into dust when you put a stake through their heart?"

"Teenage hallucinations."

"Uh-huh."

"That's why you smell of them."

"Vampires are remnants of bards."

"There are good vamps too you know."

"Would you like to meet one?"

"Yes I would."

"No need to sound so skeptical."

"Okay you can meet them, but all three of the friendly types are on the west coast."

"Do they have names?"

"Yep, Angel, Spike and Trent."

"The undead version of Larry, Curly and Moe."

"Especially when they fight with Vic."

"Vic?"

"Victandra, our other look-a-like."

"The one on earth anyways." The one twin muttered under her breath.

"On earth?" That was not the description that Bruce was expecting.

"You met Vic earlier . . ."

" . . . In the ballroom . . ." The twins had identical smirks on their faces.

" . . . She's the one with the gold choker."

"Unless you believe you resemble a German Shepherd, your sister was not in the ball room."

"Wait until you kill vamps with her."

"It's an enlightening experience."

"I'm sure," Bruce was a little unnerved. These children free discussed taking a person's life as they would discuss the latest Backstreet Boys release. One twin noticed his discomfort.

"We are not cold blooded murderers, here."

"We have to kill vamps to protect the general populous. . . "

" . . . Not that they appreciate it any ways."

"But to kill, an asylum can hold the most violent of criminals."

"You don't get it, do you?"

"These are not criminals, they are demons, parasites, that must kill humans and drink their blood to survive."

"To let the monsters live means to condemn entire families to death."

"But you can have friendly types?"

"Yep."

"Two are souled and one is chipped."

"Or neutered depending on how bad you want to annoy Spike."

"But back to the real problem . . . "

" . . . Have vampires taken over Gotham?"

"I . . ." Bruce stopped. Bullets did not stop the murderers, but when one had fallen on a broken crate, he was literately dust. "I still don't believe that vampires exist."

"And that's what we're here for." A southern accent came from the other door. A tall redhead with a white streak and the brunette that distracted Lex entered the door. In their custody was a snarling male vampire. "I'll kill you Slayer," he threatened. Neither of the women was impressed. They nodded for the twins to leave the room and then the women threw the vampire against the wall and cuffed him to the chain where Blondie had sat. One set out a vial of clear liquid and a cross, as well as a stake.

"Watch and learn," the brunette instructed. She picked up the cross and showed it to Bruce before brushing it against the vampire's skin. The necklace left an impressive burn. The brunette picked up the vial, "Holy water," she explained and dumped it on the prisoner's head. The vampire screamed in anger as smoke wafted from his hair and face. The woman took pity on the vampire and threw a stake into his chest. "May you rest in peace, Ryan, and Vamp, may you rot in hell." Bruce looked at the woman questionably. She didn't seem the type to say a benediction to a pile of dust. She shrugged, "he was our favorite pizza deliverer before he was turned. He was a good kid."

"So whadda ya think?" The southern belle asked the chained superhero.

"Vampires are not myths and Gotham has a pest problem."

"And we're here to help because we can."

______________

"And this is the hanger for the Blackbird," said Emily. Jarod looked over the plane, mapping out its capabilities with an expert eye.

"I bet this thing can out fly anything from the Air Force."

"Yep, talk to Scott for the specifics. Speaking of him, it's his turn to do lunch. He should be back with the pizzas by now. I wonder if those three detectives are joining us. Daria and Oz are giving them the public tour."

"So, Emily, what exactly is your power," Jarod asked as they headed to the main floor of the mansion.

"I'm a high-level empath, with some limited telepathic ability. Pretty much plain vanilla 'round here. Some of us have totally cool powers. As far as powers go, I'm more normal than even Daria and Oz, and they're not even mutants."

"They aren't?"

"Nope. It's a running joke; he claims that their real positions at the school are Mr. and Mrs. Resident Non-mutant."

"They have powers, but they're not mutants?" Lillian looked at Emily with confusion.

"Ding ding ding! That's correct. Oz, Daria, and Faith have powers from a different source. I'd explain it to you, but I think they want to do that themselves." As they walked into the dining room, the girl let out an excited squeal. "Kurt!" She took a running leap into her boyfriend's arms, knocking him over. Kurt had blue skin, and two fingers and a thumb on each hand. He also had a tail. A tall young man with black, feathered wings grinned at the couple, shook his head, and offered a handshake to Jarod.

"Ymmit, son of Gladiator, Praetor of the Shi'ar Imperial Guard, and betrothed of Victandra Xavier."

"Now I understand Xavier's preoccupation with open-mindedness in dealing with disfigurements."

Ymmit smiled, "Many of us are glad that you've joined the group, so if nothing else, we can attend class lectures once again."

"Jarod, we need to talk to you and Lillian." Daria tugged the pair off to the corner. "Hank just got back and ran your blood sample, Jarod. A year ago, about the same time that Oz and I moved in, Charles found a young telepath named Jordan and convinced his guardian to let him join us. His DNA matches yours, Jarod. Exactly."

"Jarod?" He turned around, and there was his clone. "Somehow I knew we'd both end up here." Jarod nodded, his eyes stinging as they embraced.

"Lillian, you remember this young man, don't you?"

 "I definitely remember her," said Jordan.

"Pardon me, my dear Mrs. Osbourne," said a cultured voice behind Daria. "I believe that you and I need to talk of a few things. First of all, what is this I hear about a woman knocking you out?"

"Hank!" Daria felt herself getting teary-eyed. < Stupid hormones. They get me so messed up with the smallest things. >

"I felt I should remind you of our bargain upon my departure. I expect to see you in the infirmary immediately following luncheon."

"In that case, I better go grab a pizza before they consume it all." Daria wandered toward the tables, carefully keeping one ear tuned to what could be a very interesting conversation.

"I do not believe we have met." Jarod turned around and quickly suppressed his astonishment. Standing in front of him was a seven-foot tall man with thick blue fur, sharp canines, and hands that resembled paws. "I am Dr. Henry McCoy."

"J-Jarod Bowen." He cleared his throat. "You'll forgive me, Dr. McCoy, but it's an honor to meet you. I'm a big fan of your articles."

"How exciting! I seldom have the chance to meet an individual who has had the opportunity to read my work, let alone someone who admires it. I understand that you and Jordan have an interesting history."

"I'm his clone," piped up Jordan.

"Fascinating," said Hank, adjusting his wire-rimmed spectacles. "I am sorry, my dear, I feel as if we have been ignoring you. May I have your name?"

"Lillian Parker," she laughed. Hank gracefully executed a courtly bow.

"I am honored, Lillian."

< May I have your attention? > The talking and laughing slowly subsided and the crowd of assorted superheroes turned to the front. "The Angels have left the premises, but we still have a special guest for lunch today. Mr. Wayne will be staying with us for the next two days, learning how we run things." < He is aware of the truth. >

________________________

Bruce looked around the lunch table at the multitude of colors, shapes, races, and accents. Most of which he had not seen the night before. The Angels had taken the public tour and was firmly escorted off the campus. He had been given normal clothes and promised the detailed show about the facilities. The women, Faith Slayer and Rogue LeBeau, had also promised instruction of destruction of vampires. They guaranteed an extermination team until the vast majority of the Gotham vampire population was dust. This school was definitely a cause worth supporting.

Then Professor Xavier entered the dining room in a hover chair. Bruce briefly wondered if the good doctor would let him dismantle it to investigate how it worked.

< Bruce, you're broadcasting. I knew you were an engineer at heart, but no, my hoverchair remains in one piece. >

"I am delighted though that you trust us enough to relax."

"I think that's 'cause we gave him much more ammunition against us than he gave to us." One of the twins from the night before smirked. Professor Xavier gave the teenager a look which promptly shut her up. Bruce was not sure if the teenager's name was Lyetta or Emmy.

"Who would like to participate in the quiet invasion of Gotham's cemeteries?" The team looked up from their various conversations.

"I'm Called. I go." Faith was the first to respond.

"I follow her." A man that had perimeter duty during the banquet spoke up. He had been introduced as Logan Slayer, Faith's husband. Just then the black panther that had followed the Professor in the room jumped up on the table and morphed into a teenager, one identical to the twins from the night before.

"I volunteer." Most of the team looked shocked, at what Bruce was not sure. He for one was shocked that she could change shape with little apparent difficulties. The young man in the corner with black wings shifted and spoke.

"To quote Logan, 'I follow her.'" The atmosphere in the room lightened considerably. Charles Xavier declared a full team and the attack plans were made. Bruce thought briefly that the new Gotham protection unit was not very talkative. But he was sure that they were very effective. Two weeks later, and over two hundred vampires destroyed, every suspicion was confirmed. The team became good comrades-at-arms, and left to execute some new attack mission and save the world from some other threat, one called the Centre.

___________________

"Anyway, that's our plan on taking down the Centre. What do you think?"

"As long as you make sure the evidence remains safe, I don't see a problem with any of it. According to Peter Parker, Lois Lane was nicknamed 'Mad Dog' for her tendency to latch on to a story. I assume you've got a plan for removing your friends from Centre custody?" Daria settled back into the couch, watching her new friend's enthusiasm with amusement.

"We'll definitely need help with that. I had a few ideas for Sydney and Broots, but not Angelo."

"Well, you're going to have to put your plans for the evil corporation on hold. As the new meat, you and Jarod have chaperone duties tonight."

"Chaperoning what?"

"Movie night. Every Sunday night the students get to attend a movie in town. They get some time in the real world, you get to establish a rapport, and those who don't go get some peace and quiet."

"Daria, I've never been around a group of kids. Ever."

"Think of this as a learning experience. A few of us will be tagging along because we want to see the movie."

"I'm afraid to ask what we'll be watching."

"Star Wars, Episode 3."

"Science Fiction. Wonderful."

"Cheer up. It's usually entertaining to watch Star Wars with the students, since we know the real story."

"The real story?"

"Yeah, Luke Skywalker and his wife stop by every once in a while to talk about their latest stories. He met with Lucas in the seventies. After a night of drinking and story telling, Lucas wrote the scripts for all of the Star Wars movies. When Luke and Mara found this out, they decided to pop back in once in a while to see how the movies turned out. She finds it completely hilarious, of course."

"This is way too weird."

"If you stay around for a few more months, you'll get to meet them. They usually pop in around Christmas time, when they can."

"So, that whole Jedi thing?"

"It's much like mine or Faith's powers. Not mutants."

"What are your powers?"

"Emily didn't tell you?" Daria straightened in her seat. "I'm what's called a Tracker. I have enhanced senses, increased speed, and immunity to magic. I also have what Hank calls 'continual mental awareness'."

"What's that last thing?"

"I do not need sleep, and therefore don't sleep. My mind continually processes everything I take in."

"Where do these powers come from?"

"A pair of very rare, recessive genes that are attached to the X chromosome. There's something of a calling involved too. Only one member of a family in each generation becomes a Tracker or a Slayer."

"Does Oz have this gene?"

"Yes. We're hoping that it wasn't altered."

"What do you mean, altered?"

Daria sighed, placing her hand on her stomach for reassurance. "Oz's powers are a little different."

"How different?"

"Do you have an open mind?"

"I think so after all the students I've met."

"Oz is a werewolf. He was bitten when he was in high school, by his younger cousin."

Lillian sat back in surprise. "Apparently my mind wasn't as open as I thought. A werewolf?"

"Come on, I'll have him show you," she said, getting up and heading down the hall. Lillian followed close behind as they moved through the ground level to the music room. Oz was sitting on the type of chair usually reserved for offices, zipping back and forth between a guitar, a piano, and a table, alternately playing and writing. He looked up when the two women walked into the room.

"Hey, love."

"Hey. Lillian just asked about our powers."

"Demonstration?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Let's go on down to the training room." The trio headed for the elevator and moved to the lower levels of the mansion, an area with which Lillian was already becoming familiar. The training room was the size of a gymnasium, with strength-training machines against one short wall. Daria stopped short at the entrance.

"We forgot something." She turned around and headed for the stairs.

"What did she forget," asked Lillian. Oz shrugged, and Lillian sighed. She had learned very quickly that he tended to communicate like Victandra, with more body language than verbal language. And right now, that body language was a confusing mess of mixed signals that her slowly developing empathic skills were unable to read. "What's wrong?"

"The change . . .hurts. Hard to control. I haven't allowed it to happen since we found out she was pregnant." He looked as if he was about to say more, but he cut his conversation short when Daria walked into the room. She handed him a pair of shorts.

"We forgot these," she said, kissing him lightly. While Oz headed to the changing room, Daria and Lillian sat down on a weight bench. "I wanted to take the opportunity to warn you about what's going to happen." She shifted to get more comfortable. "You've seen Victandra shift back and forth, right?"

"Yeah, that was really something. Is this going to be something like that?"

"I wish it were that easy," said Daria ruefully. "Victandra's shifting is a natural process. It's part of the way she was born, and she's had 17 years to smooth out the edges. With Oz, it's much different. The change is unnatural. It's the result of a what most call a curse that was placed upon him eight years ago, with the help of his younger cousin and some magical influence. I suppose he told you something like 'the change hurts', right?" At Lillian's affirmative answer, Daria continued. "Oz is a master of the understatement. Every bone in his body, every tendon, muscle, and ligament, rearranges to support the wolf. As a reaction to this forced change, an inner rage builds up from within the person, sweeping away all control. The transformed person becomes propelled by the rage, attacking everything it can reach. It's the rage that Oz forces back."

"The longer I hold it back, the more difficult the change when I give in," added Oz from the doorway. "She's been at me for a week, trying to get me to do the change now, while I can still control it." Walking over to his wife, he twisted his wedding ring off and handed it to her. She held it tightly in her right hand as he moved back to the larger part of the room.

The first part of the change was the easy one. Lillian watched in fascination as thick, dense fur began to cover previously bare skin. His teeth became elongated, and claws replaced nails. She jumped, startled, when he let out a sound that was a strange blend of moan, scream, and howl, and looked at her companion.

Daria's face was pale. Her right hand was clenched around his ring, and her other hand lay, trembling, on her abdomen. Lillian wanted to comfort her, but she was quickly distracted by the snapping sounds that came from Oz. His scream was changing to the wolf-howl as his body was reformed into the much larger wolf. Only the eyes remained the same when it was over and the wolf stood on all four feet.

"Don't make any sudden movements," said Daria, her soft voice monotone. "Oz is still aware of everything that's happening, but the wolf is dominant now. He knows me, but not you." She slipped down from the bench to the floor, placing her hands on her lap, palm up. The wolf prowled around the room, circling her twice before approaching her. He sniffed her cautiously, and then moved next to her. Daria slowly brought her hands up to his head, running her fingers through the fur behind his ears. A tear dropped down into this soft fur, and she muffled a sob, pressing her face into his neck. Lillian sat frozen on the bench, unsure of what to do. She kept her eyes glued to the two as she slowly rose and moved toward the door. The reverse change was beginning to take place, and as she backed out of the room she could hear him murmuring to her as he held her.

"Shh, love. It's alright." Oz gently pulled her to him, settling her against his chest. Daria continued to weep quietly, and he continued to make soothing noises until the tears had abated.

"Hormones," she said weakly, wiping her wet cheeks with her hand. Oz looked into her face.

"I don't think so," he said, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. "What is it, love?" She hesitated, and then plunged in.

"Why us? Why does this happen to us? Why are you forced to go through this? Why can't I sleep in the arms of my husband? Why do we have to worry about our child having to go through the same things?" She leaned her head against his chest wearily. "Why can't we lead normal lives?" Oz's arms tightened around her.

"Let's pretend. Say we were a normal couple. What would that be like?"

"You wouldn't have the pain of the change."

"You could fall asleep in my arms."

"We wouldn't risk our lives saving an uncaring world every week."

"No more of Rogue's home-burnt meals."

"You'd have a double chin and a spare tire," she teased, her mood lightening as she slipped her arms around his neck. Oz shifted her into a more comfortable position on his lap.

"The way you cook, a kettle drum. You'd still wear those heavy glasses you wore when we met."

"You'd have a job in the city that you despised."

"You'd teach English to uncaring students in a public high school."

"The baby would go to public school."

"She'd become either a clone or an outcast."

"We'd both be lonely, bitter, and unhappy."

"Like fifty percent of the American population, we would quietly divorce and live a life of complete alienation."

Daria sighed. "You can't get around it, can you?"

"To quote one of Buffy's favorite movies, 'Life is pain. Anyone who says differently is selling something.' Think about what we would miss if we were normal."

"You would never have had the chance to talk Victandra into singing that song."

"You would never have had the chance to read Jubilee's stories."

"I wouldn't be able to lay awake at night, listening to you whimper in your sleep."

"I do not!" Oz tickled the back of her knees with his free hand, making her squirm and retaliate by going after his ribs. He fell back onto the mat, taking her with him, and she doubled her attack. "And I, my dear wife, would not be able to do this!" She gasped, startled, when he scooped her up, throwing her arms around his neck. He stood up and moved toward the door on the opposite side of the training room.

"Oz! Put me down!"

"No." He walked over to the pool, an addition that Victandra had insisted on, and held her out over the water. "Do you yield?"

"Never," she cried out. Oz shrugged and jumped into the deep end, submerging them both. Daria came spluttering to the surface first. "This water is cold!" She began to swim toward the side.

"No you don't," said Oz, grabbing her and pulling her back underwater. She rose with a shriek.

"Now you're in for it!" Daria dunked him, and then began moving back to the side. He blocked her escape. A tiny smile crept up her face, a smile he recognized when it was too late as her idea smile, and she dove back underwater, pulled his shorts off, and began swimming to the far side. Oz began to chase after her, and finally caught her, tugging the clothing from her hands and putting it back on. He pulled himself up on the edge of the pool and headed toward to the ladder and helped her up.

"Feel better?" His wife nodded, slipping her arms around his neck and looking up at him.

"Thanks," she whispered. Oz pressed a kiss against her forehead, then her lips. She returned the kiss, deepening it, and he realized that her T-shirt and shorts were completely soaked and clinging against her skin. They began to kiss in earnest, and then Daria broke away. "Oz, not here." She grabbed his hand and pulled him through the training room and into the elevator that lead to the upstairs, kissing him as the doors closed.

"The elevator works, but not the side of the pool?"

"If we work at it, we might be able to sneak back to our room," Daria teased, a smirk on her face. An uncharacteristic giggle bubbled out as she watched her husband leave the elevator stealthily, checking the corridors like he was in an overdone spy movie before motioning for her to follow him, and they made their way up the steps.

________________________

"Oz?"

"Hmm?"

"We never would have met."

"What?"

"We never would have met. If we were normal, we never would have met. You'd still be with Willow."

"And you'd be with Tom." Oz chuckled at her expression of distaste and pulled her closer, resting his forehead against hers.

"A more likely prospect would be Trent, before he became a vampire. I've always had a thing for musicians," she teased, glancing at the clock and sitting up. "Let's go see if anyone cooked dinner."

The mansion was quiet as Daria and Oz headed toward the kitchen, which was dark and empty. "Mood?" asked Oz, glancing over the contents of the refrigerator.

"Mexican," she replied, pulling spices out of the cabinet. "Are there any of Hank's enchiladas left in the freezer?"

"Yeah. Apple pie for dessert?"

"You don't have to ask me twice." Daria began laying things out for the meal, a half-smile on her face. Oz was humming softly as he put the ingredients together for the pie. "Is that the new song you're working on?" He nodded, his brow furrowed in concentration as he began laying the bottom crust in the pan. "When do I get to hear it?" Her husband remained silent as he carefully spooned the apple mixture into the crust. Daria waited, a little impatiently but silently. < If there's one thing I've learned in less than a year of marriage, it's to not disturb him while he's baking. > Oz gently laid the top crust onto the pie, then pinched it together, slit the top, and popped it into the oven.

"It's a surprise."

"Is that it? 'It's a surprise', and you're not going to share?" Daria stood with her hands on her hips, giving him a mock glare.

"You'll hear it in October." Oz gave her a quick kiss. "That's all I'm telling you." Daria tried to hold her glare, but couldn't help the tiny smile that formed.

"You just better be glad you're so cute," she admonished, looking up at him. The timer from the oven chimed out, and Oz winced at the sound as he pulled out the enchiladas.

"We've got to tune that bell." He carefully set the steaming food on the table, and Daria sniffed appreciatively as she sat down. Oz dished out two enchiladas and a large spoonful of rice on her plate, did the same to his own, and the two begin eating. Twelve enchiladas, a large dish of rice, and half of a gallon of milk later, the off-key sound of the timer announced that the pie was ready, and Oz set it on the counter to cool. "Should we be civilized?"

"What's the alternative?"

"Civilized: we serve each piece at a time. Un: I set this down, put a half-gallon of vanilla ice cream on top, and we grab our forks."

"Let's go for un," she suggested, a sparkle in her eyes.

"Un it is," he agreed, setting the pastry in front of her and crossing the kitchen for the ice cream.

"While you're over there, could you get the milk?" He brought both items to the table, and she filled their glasses while he spooned the ice cream on top.

"Ready?"

"Ready." They dug their forks into the pie, consuming the first half of the dessert rapidly. The next portion went much more slowly, and Daria set down her fork before it had disappeared entirely. "It tastes wonderful, but if I eat one more bite I may explode." She settled back against the chair and rested her hands on her stomach, looking down. "I hope you're happy, baby," she said. Her eyes widened as she felt a kick against her hand. "Oz!" She grabbed his wrist and placed his fingers on the spot. A half-smile crept up his face as felt the impact.

"She's happy." Oz helped her out of the chair and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her.

________________________

Lillian looked around the table in what was called the 'war room,' observing the people she had began to regard as family. She and Jarod had just finished outlining the plan they had devised, and were waiting for a decision.

"Alright, if we're gonna do this, we need to get started." Logan looked across the table at Scott. "Well, Cyke, ya gonna start layin' it out, or do I need to do it for ya?"

"I think I can handle it, Logan." Scott ran through the mental checklist he had made as they had shared the plan. "We need at least five teams. The first team that we need to organize and send out is-"

"Mrs. O?" Jubilee was standing in the doorway. "You have a call on line one." Daria pushed herself out of her seat and followed Jubilee to the common room, her ears catching Scott for as long as possible. Jubilee handed her the phone, taking it off hold.

"Daria Osbourne." The voice on the other end brought a smile to her face.

"I wasn't the one who broke up with your aunt, mavoureen, so why wasn't I informed about what was going on?"

"Hey, Adam! We haven't really told anyone, to tell the truth. It all happened so fast."

"I'll bet. Listen, mavoureen, I'm in New York for a while. Died a little too publicly in Seacouver. Would Charles let me crash up there?"

"Let me check." Daria moved back down the hall and stuck her head into the room.

"So Bobby and I will be on the Lane team. Lillian, would you like to outline your plan for recovering Mr. Broots?"

"Charles," interrupted Daria, "Adam's on the phone. He died back in Seacouver and needs a place to crash until he can go back." Jarod and Lillian's jaws dropped in unison, something she noticed with secret amusement.

"Of course. Adam is always welcome. He'd make an exceptional history teacher."

"Thanks. I'll go let him know." She walked back to the phone, picked it up, and sat down on the couch. "He said yes. You work for your board."

"Great. I'm right outside the gate."

"Adam Pierson!" Daria struggled up from the couch and went to the front door. He waved cheerily at her from the gate. "A little sure of yourself, aren't you." She buzzed the gate open, and then hung up the phone.

"Hello, mavoureen." Adam leaned down and quickly embraced the short woman. "Such a difference nine months can make," he said, glancing down at her stomach. She flushed.

"It took us by surprise," said Daria. "Did you bring anything with you?"

"Just my own congenial self and my sword. Where is everyone?"

"Planning an operation. Would you like to join us?"

Adam shrugged. "Might as well. What happened to your eye?"

"Some woman named Dylan jumped me." She opened the door. "Guess who assumed we would take him in, and so made the trip before he bothered to ask us?" Gesturing for Adam to take a seat, Daria went back to her own chair.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to the newbies, mavoureen?" Adam grinned as Daria sighed wearily.

"Lillian Parker, Jarod Bowen, meet Adam Pierson. Adam, meet Lillian and Jarod."

"Pleased to meet you." Adam settled back into his chair. "Would anyone care to tell me how we're saving the world this time?"

"Evil corporation. Leaking activities to the papers. Rescuing people in the crossfire," said Faith, stretching in a seemingly lazy motion. "The usual."

"Daria, we put you on team two, pulling out Broots. It's the least dangerous of the situations. Oz will fill you in. Emily, Lyetta, and Rogue, you'll be the Angelo contact inside of the Centre, which brings us to the question of Sydney." Scott happened to glance at their newest arrival before he began analyzing the rescue they had planned.

Adam had blinked twice, and then the mask had slipped over his features. One doesn't live to be five thousand without learning about the funny way the world worked. "What do you know? Walt was right. It is a small world after all. I'm assuming that you must be Miss Parker," he said, turning to Lillian, whose fair skin paled further. "And you must be Jarod, the Pretender," he continued. "Sydney talks about you both in his e-mails."

"You know Sydney?"

"We met at a convention several months ago. We had a few similar interests and questions on how the personality is affected by culture, and kept in touch. I'd like to volunteer for the Sydney operation."

"Here's what we've got so far." Scott laid out the total plan quickly, and then began to explain Adam's part in detail. "It's very important that we get them out of there before Ms. Lane begins her investigation. People have a way of disappearing in the Centre."

Adam rubbed his hands together. "What are we waiting for?"

________________________

Rogue forced herself to keep her hands away from the wig. < I'm out of practice > she said to herself as she smiled prettily at the guard at the door. "Ah'm Jennifer Morgan, and mah daughters have an appointment with Dr. Greene." The guard muttered into a communications device before letting them in. < Remy-love would love a chance to break in here. > Steering the two teenagers down the hallway, she stepped into the room she had been directed to.

"Ah, Lydia and Emily Morgan." Sydney came over to the two girls. "It is wonderful to meet you. And you as well, Mrs. Morgan."

"A pleasure, sugah," she drawled, reaching over to shake his hand. Turning to Emily and Lyetta, she gave them quick hugs. "Ah'll be back to pick ya both up aftah work. You do what you're supposed ta, alright?" At the pair's quick nods, she left the room.

"If you two will come with me, we will begin." The trio quietly headed toward the elevator.

        < Em, you feel anything yet? >

< He's worried about both of them. I haven't been able to sense Angelo yet, but Jarod said he'd be down on the lower levels. >

< This place gives me the creeps. I hope we don't end up having to come here much longer. >

< Oh! There he is. Now we just have to get away from Sydney. Angelo will come to us. >

        < Are you sure? >

< No empath can resist another. > The elevator finally stopped, and Sydney led them into another long hallway, coming to a halt in front of an unmarked door.

"Dr. Greene, I have to, um, go." Lyetta smiled sweetly up at the man. "Can you show Em and me where the restroom is?"

"Of course. It's right down the hall, to the left. When you are finished, just come back to this room." Sydney walked into the room, leaving them alone.

Lyetta watched the corner as Emily wandered further into the hall, spreading out her senses. The young empath gasped as Angelo moved furtively into the corridor. His abilities slid over her own, meshing together in a way that she had never felt before. As Lyetta rounded the corner at a run, Emily's knees gave way, leaving Angelo holding her.

< Who? >

Emily started violently at the strange voice inside her head. < Who is this? >

< Angelo. Who? >

< I'm Emily. How . . .? >

< Don't know. >

< Em, what's going on? >

< Angelo and I are . . .connected somehow. I'm going to have a long talk with Father when this is all over. Angelo, Jarod sent us to - >

< We'll leave when it's time. >

< Umm, right. > Emily stood up, reluctantly breaking the connection. She could still feel his presence overlapping hers as she and her sister walked back down the hallway to where Sydney was waiting.

"Good, you have returned. I will begin the session by asking a few simple questions, and then we will do some physical testing. The object of this session is to gauge how you have taken the recent loss of your father, and how having a twin affects your feelings on this matter." Sydney continued on as Lyetta circumspectly glanced at her watch.

< Em, only seven hours left. Are we going to have a little fun with him? >

< It's odd. I can still feel Angelo. I wonder if I can still contact him? > Emily allowed her senses to spread again. < Angelo? >

< Emily feels Angelo? >

< Yes, I do. > She delved deeper into his emotions, furrowing her forehead in concentration. < Frustration? >

< They can't understand. >

< You can't explain it to them, can you? >

< No. Can't make them understand. Only Jarod. >

< And me. >

< And you. >

"Emily?" Sydney's voice snapped her away from her conversation. "Would you like to share with us?"

< Do something strange, Em. Make him think we're off our rockers, and we need to come back for extensive therapy. >

Emily stayed silent, looking down at her hands. Her mind was whirling, and she couldn't think of a single coherent response. Thankfully, Lyetta did just that.

"Look, just leave her alone," shouted the young woman. "She doesn't want to talk."

Sydney sighed. < It's going to be a long day. >

________________________

Angelo smiled from his hiding place. Emily was nice, one of the few who had ever been able understand. She had filled him in on what was happening with Jarod and Lillian, and let him know what would happen over the next weeks. He was looking forward to meeting with her father. < The others will understand. >

________________________

"Emily made contact with Angelo. She said that he could communicate with her in her head, and that their powers overlapped. Yeah, she wants to talk to the Professah 'bout that. When do you two take care of your part? Mm-hmm. How's Jennifer? You tell her Momma's coming home soon. Take care, Remy-love." Rogue hung up the phone. "Well, girls, looks like we're here for a little while at least. Bobby's havin' a hard time gettin' into position."

"It's just as well. Between the two of us, we've managed to convince Dr. Greene that we're both teetering on the edge and need close observation."

"And you've let Angelo know when he needs to get out, right?"

"He knows. We can pick up and get out if it gets warm."

"Great." Rogue stretched, frustrated with the lack of space. "Ah hate undercover without Remy."

"So why didn't he come along to be our 'father'?"

Rogue smirked. "He had his own duties to perform."

________________________

The night was quiet and cool. Other than the occasional barking of a dog, the suburban neighborhood was peaceful, almost serene. Logan smiled. That would all change soon. "You ready, gumbo?"

"Oui. Lillian?"

"Ready as I'll ever be." She watched as the Cajun picked the lock of the door with practiced ease, sliding into the house silently. Following behind, she let Miss Parker come to the surface, let the anger and bitterness that had made a ruthless woman out of a young girl move through her personality. Remy carefully unplugged the phone extensions on the first floor, then moved like a shadow to the master bedroom on the second story. He pocketed the cell phone; Logan would take of it later. Checking to make sure that Lillian was ready to cover their imminent retreat, Remy nodded at Logan. < Show time. > With a yell, Logan burst into Broots' room, knocking the door of the hinges. Remy lunged into the little girl's room, making sure she was awake enough to scream as he grabbed her. She did not disappoint.

James Broots was sleeping peacefully until the scream jerked him into consciousness. He barely had time to form coherent thought as he was handily lifted from his bed and tossed across the room. A scream from his daughter brought him into awareness. He awkwardly attempted a defense that was quickly taken apart. The shattering of glass followed a second scream. Broots lost what little concentration he had previously had, and barely registered the large fist as it hurtled toward his head.

Remy carried his squirming bundle out to the van, handing her to Lillian, then jumped into the driver's seat. Logan got into the passenger seat, and they sped away. Debbie continued to scream, the sound only slightly muffled by the blankets over her head.

"Debbie!" Lillian began to peel the blankets off the girl. "Debbie, stop screaming!" Grabbing her by the shoulders, Lillian forced her to look up. "Debbie, look at me."

The screaming stopped as if a switch had been thrown. "M-Miss Parker?" Debbie sniffled. "Is that you?"

"The one and only. I'm going to explain this all to you, but you need to calm down. All right?" She nodded tearfully, and Lillian almost sagged in relief. "Remy, what's our ETA?"

"We'll get to de blackbird in fifteen. Thirty minutes after that." He looked in the rearview mirror, dark sunglasses hiding his eyes. "You K, petite?"

"She's fine. Logan, any tails?"

"All clear, darlin'."

"All right, Debbie. I promised I'd tell you everything, and I will." Lillian cleared her throat. "There are some people who want to hurt your father, Debbie." The girl's eyes widened. "They want to hurt him by hurting you. We're taking you to a safe place where that won't happen. You'll see your father again soon, and you'll be able to talk to him on the telephone, but he can't know where you are. Do you understand?" The girl shook her head. "What part?"

"Why would anyone want to hurt my father?"

"I don't know, sweetheart." She pulled the girl into a hug. "You'll have to be strong for him."

"I don't think I can."

"You can." The van rolled to a stop and the passengers climbed out.

"Wow," said Debbie, looking up at the small jet. "Do we get to go on that?"

"Yeah." Logan looked up at the sky. "Let's hurry this up, gumbo. Faith's waitin' for me." The jets engines rumbled quietly as it lifted into the air and headed north.

"Who's going to meet us?"

Logan snorted. "At 5:30 on a Saturday morning, with no training in Scott's absence? You'll be able to count 'em on one hand. Shorty, Adam, the Wolf, and Vic."

"There was something I wanted to ask you, Logan. Daria's not usually very open about her emotions, is she?"

"Nope. Why d'ya ask?"

Lillian hesitated for a moment, but decided to tell Logan what she had witnessed. He rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully.

"Knew it was comin', just didn't know when. They've had some tough times, and she was about due for a breakout."

"She mentioned something about Oz being a werewolf, and that it could affect the baby, but she wouldn't tell me anything else. We've all been so busy the past six weeks that I haven't gotten to sit down and pry it out of her."

"The wolf curse alters the victims DNA, which - listen, are you sure you wanna hear this from me? Hank would do a much better job."

"I'm sure." She glanced at Debbie, feathering over her senses to make sure she was asleep, and gestured for Logan to continue.

"If they have a girl, it'll be a Tracker. And a carrier of the werewolf curse. A boy, possibly a werewolf. Maybe not. Hank hasn't been able to figure out if the tracker gene was affected by the werewolf curse. Add that to the fact that Shorty hasn't been gaining weight right, and you've got one nervous mutant. He's worried, they're worried, and we're all worried."

"What will they do if it's a werewolf?"

"Beats me."

________________________

Debbie yawned, blinking sleepily as she got to her feet and followed Lillian out of the plane. "Breakfast?"

"Sure." The four rode up to the main floors in a companionable silence and walked down the hushed hallways to the kitchen.

"So anyway, mavoureen, there was MacLeod, standing in the middle of the room, sword in hand, with that 'I've got to go fight evil' look on his face, and Lissie comes up behind him, calls out, 'April Fools!' and snaps a picture as he turns around. Hasn't she sent you your copy yet?"

"I think I'd remember a picture of Duncan with his hair dyed blue," she said dryly, turning toward the doorway. "Hey."

"Daria, Oz, Adam, this is Debbie Broots. Debbie, these are some of the people you'll be staying with."

"Nice to meet you," said Daria. "Would you like to join us for breakfast?"

"I guess so." She tentatively sat down.

"What would you like?"

"Do you have any pop-tarts?"

"I'm not sure," she said. "I'll go check." Daria began to stand up.

"I'll go check. You'll stay right there." Oz began to rummage through the cabinets. "No. Pancakes instead?" Debbie nodded in agreement.

"Do you want milk and orange juice to drink?" Daria was up before any disapproval could be voiced.

"Sure." Daria poured a glass of each for the girl, and then did the same for herself.

"Oz?" He nodded absently, his concentration focused on the pancakes and the sausage links in the pan next to them. She smiled as she poured out the third set of glasses. "Adam? Lillian? Remy?"

"Coffee," they said in unison.

"You can get your own coffee." Adam gave a sigh of martyrdom as she placed the glasses on the table.

"You know, mavoureen, I miss the old days when women did whatever they were told."

"I refuse to help you destroy your stomachs with that stuff."

"It's not like it's going to kill me."

Daria rolled her eyes. "That's your excuse for everything, Adam." The next comment was lost as Oz set the platter onto the table and leaned over to kiss her. "What was I saying again?"

"You might want to keep it down to PG. We do have a minor present." Daria gave Adam a dirty look as she served Debbie and herself.

"Better get all you want now," she warned the girl, who picked up a second pancake. "There won't be any left."

"I still can't figure out where he puts it all," grumbled Lillian, serving herself a pancake and passing the platter to Remy.

"It takes a lot of energy to be so incredibly good -looking," teased Daria, sneaking in another kiss before the platter made it back to him.

"I'll go with that theory." Oz began loading the remainder of the pancakes onto his plate, pausing to add one to Daria's plate. She opened her mouth to object, and then saw the expression on his face and closed it again.

"If you guys keep feeding me like this, you'll have to start widening the doorways," she mumbled under her breath. "I already look like I swallowed a beach ball." Oz leaned over and whispered into her ear, making her flush scarlet, while Adam looked on, amused.

"If you can still move after you eat all of that," said Adam, gesturing toward Oz's plate, "we'll train after breakfast. I've thought of a few things that might lend themselves well to your abilities, and I'd like to incorporate them in."

"Can I watch?" Daria waited for Oz to swallow the mouthful of pancake before replying.

"As long as you don't decide to join in."

"But training always makes me hungry, and you've all been at me to eat more." Oz was visibly weakening under her pleading gaze.

"I don't think so, mavoureen. You're not getting away that easily." Adam gestured pointedly at her stomach. "Trust someone who's been a doctor longer than you've been alive. At this point, your daughter will definitely not enjoy training with the two of us." Daria glared at Adam, but was clearly beaten. Changing the subject, she turned back to her husband.

"Oz, did you leave any for Victandra?" The werewolf looked down at the panther, which was staring up at him patiently. He retrieved the plate from the counter and set it on the floor, watching as she began to delicately eat.

Debbie's eyes widened. "I-is that a panther?"

"Debbie, meet Victandra." Lillian smirked a little, remembering her first meeting with the shape-shifter. Victandra sniffed the child curiously, eventually deciding to accept her, and turned back to her breakfast. "Are you finished?" Debbie nodded. "Would you like to get a tour?" When the girl voiced her agreement, they left the kitchen.

        "Did Lillian mention when the girl gets to call her father?" Adam asked as he carried his plate to the sink and returned to the table, watching Oz finish off the pile of pancakes with fascination.

"She gets to call home in two days. Jarod and Jordan think they'll have the phone system rigged up by then," answered Daria, awkwardly getting up out of her chair. "I'll meet you guys down in the training room." She gave Oz a quick kiss and headed toward their room.

________________________

Broots sat beside the phone anxiously, a tracing device attached to the line. Since the disappearance of his daughter two nights ago, he had been trying to break the event apart. Eight years at the Centre had taught him a lot about how this kind of thing happened, and the people who had taken his Debbie were professionals. No fingerprints, no footprints, no hints whatsoever of their identity. He had to assume that they would eventually contact him with their demands.

His impatient waiting was rewarded when the phone rang. "Hello?"

"Hi, Daddy!"

Relief flooded through Broots at the sound of his daughter's voice. "Debbie, Sweetheart, where are you?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "They said I couldn't tell you. But I'm all right. There's a pool here, and they let me swim when I'm all done with my tests. One of the ladies here has the coolest pet!" Her voice was cut off abruptly, replaced with a man's rough growl.

"She's safe, bub. She'll stay that way if you cooperate. Be ready." The line was dead. Broots looked at the tracing device, which registered an untraceable call, and slammed the phone down angrily.

______________________

Lyetta stood guard outside the grate that lead into the ventilation system. Emily and Angelo were mentally talking rapidly, and it was rather like hearing one side of telephone conversation. The two sisters were supposedly using the facilities, further confusing Dr. Greene by their refusal to be separated. < Em, we need to get back! >

< Just a minute. Angelo, try to stretch out your senses further. Can you pick up the outside guard's emotions? >

Angelo shook his head. < Too far. >

< Just try, for me. > Angelo closed his eyes and concentrated.

< No. Too far. >

< I've got to leave now, Angelo. I'll be back when I can. > Emily climbed out of the grate, disappointment on her face. < Ly, how much longer until we pull out? >

< Rogue said it's over next week. >

< It'll be nice to have Mr. Broots back to his old nervous self. He can't mask well, and every time he comes in I get a ferocious headache. > The girls entered the room silently, Emily looking down at the floor.

"Girls, I must say that I feel we have made definite progress in these sessions. Your mother informed me this morning that this would be your last time with us. I am saddened that we could not spend more time together." Sydney looked down at the identical sisters, trying, to no avail, to get some reaction from either one. "How do you feel about moving to Mississippi?" Lydia stared at him. Emily started at the floor. Sydney wondered how long he had until their mother came for them. A soft chime came from the computer, announcing that he had electronic mail.

'Syd,

About the question you posed in an earlier e-mail: It is possible that by completely abandoning one life, a person feels that they can start an entirely new life, identity, and person. They are starting over with only their memories connecting them to what they were before. It is a fresh start, something everyone craves from time to time.

I'm going to be in Delaware this weekend; research. Could we get together to talk about a few things? I've been monitoring two people that I find fascinating. Let me know where we can meet.'

Sydney smiled, a little sadly, and tapped out a response accepting the invitation and telling his friend where to meet him. Then he looked over at the two girls still sitting silently in their chairs. < Only three more hours. >

________________________

Every nerve in Broots' body screamed when the phone jangled. For some reason, he knew that it was them again. The ones who let him listen to his daughter for a few moments, then jerked him back into the painful reality. The mechanism read the call as untraceable. He picked up the receiver. "Broots."

"I have some information about the location of your daughter, James." The man sat up quickly at the low-pitched, feminine voice.

"What?"

"Meet me at the dumpster behind the Good Times Chinese restaurant on 43rd St in Dover. Now." The phone call ended with a click. Broots wasted no time in running to his car, and never noticed the black sedan that followed behind.

________________________

Daria returned to her booth inside the restaurant, Victandra beside her. Oz guided her onto the bench seat, and then sat down across from her.

"Our specials today are - hey, you can't have this dog in here!" The waitress, a tall brunette who was probably a local college student, glared at Victandra. "It's against health code regulations."

"She's my seeing eye dog," offered Daria. She turned to look in the waitress' general direction, dark glasses hiding her gray eyes. "I'm sorry. If it's a problem, we can leave."

"No, seeing eye dogs are all right. Would you like a menu?"

"Do you have one in Braille?"

"No," said the girl, turning crimson.

"Then we only need one," Oz said. Humiliated, the waitress handed him a menu and disappeared behind the personnel door. Oz shrugged and opened the menu. "Let's see, they have pepper fried steak, General Tzo's chicken, --"

"Do they have chicken with vegetables?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Then why bother asking what I want, David?"

"You might change your mind. Did you get in your phone call?"

"Yes. Thank heavens Jarod got me a cell. It's so hard to find a payphone in the city." She took a sip of her water. "Did your meeting go well?"

"As well as I expected it to." The waitress returned, and they placed their orders. "Lynn, what do you think about moving back to Connecticut? I had an offer from a computer software place in Hartford."

"I don't know, David. Leave the city? We've been here two years, and I'm just starting to get familiar with it. Can we talk about it later?"

"No problem. Did Adam head out this morning?"

"You know him. He pops in, hangs around for a week, and then it's off to another adventure."

"Quite an interesting brother you have, love." They continued to talk about the week's happenings until the food arrived. Oz thanked the woman and set up the meal. "Your rice is from noon to three, and the rest of the plate has the chicken and vegetables on it. Napkin in your lap. Knife to the right, fork to the left. Water glass is at eleven."

"Do we have time to make it to our appointment?"

"I think so." Oz looked at his watch. "It's 11:30 right now."

"We shouldn't have a problem, then. Could you tell the waitress to bring some water for Victandra? I think she's thirsty."

Twenty minutes later, Oz was opening their fortune cookies. "Yours says, 'your life will change drastically within the next two weeks.' Very vague."

"What does yours say?"

"It says, 'A new woman will enter your life very soon.' Well, I could have told them that."

"I'm a little disappointed. Let's head out to our appointment." She ran her hands through her short blond wig. Oz helped her out of the booth and went ahead of Daria and Victandra. They stepped out onto the sidewalk, and Oz carefully led her into the alleyway. Her nose wrinkled at the smell, but they had both been in worse smelling places before. "How long do you think he'll take?" Oz turned to look as he heard the squealing of brakes, the slamming of a car door, and the footsteps of a nervous man running into their alley.

"Not very."

Broots ran to the two people standing next to the dumpster. "Do you have information about my Debbie?"

"James?" He nodded his head, and, realizing that she couldn't see it, stuttered out a yes. "Come with us." They headed back onto the sidewalk and started walking away from the restaurant. "David, how does Victandra look? Do you think her coat needs combing?"

"Yeah, I think so. She may have fleas, too. Her back looks . . . itchy."

"Are we near the pet store?"

"Yeah, would you like to take a detour?"

"We better. You know how much he dislikes creatures in the house." The pair led Broots into a small pet store, and the young man headed toward the counter to make a purchase. Broots stayed near the door with the others, his impatience barely held in check by his desperation. "There, that's much better," she said with satisfaction as they left the shop. "You were bugged, James. I left it in the parrot cage. We've also got at least three tails that we'll have to lose."

"Gotta love those sweepers," muttered Oz. "There's four."

Her face remained serene. "I'm going to put on a little show. We're almost at the police department. Whatever I do, play along."

"Don't start anything you can't get out of."

"Victandra, start running," she said under her breath. "Oh no! My dog! Somebody stop my dog," she shouted, and then began to run as best as she could, Oz and Broots following closely behind. Just as Daria had expected, her shout had brought half a dozen officers running out to the sidewalk. The sweepers were bold, but not stupid. Luckily, Lillian had the door of the van open, and Jean was at the wheel, motor running. Oz picked up his wife and jumped in, Broots at his heels. Daria was panting from the exertion. "Put that on my list of things to not do while eight months pregnant," she said between gasps, pulling off the glasses and wig and letting her thick hair tumble out of its restraints. Oz steadied her on his lap as the van zoomed away.

"What the hell is going on here," seethed Broots.

"Is that any way to greet an old friend," Lillian inquired from her corner. Broots started, recognizing the voice.

"Miss Parker?"

"Please, James. It's Lillian." She smiled. "Debbie's the only one who can get away with that now."

"You have Debbie?"

"Yes. We're sorry we had to do this, but it was the only way we could get you both out."

"Out of where?"

"Centre control. I'll explain everything when we get to the blackbird."

"We're there now." Jean turned around. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Broots. Daria, will you be all right?"

"I'm good."

They boarded the plane quickly, Lillian taking the time to wipe down the van for prints.

"Is Victandra here yet?" Daria nodded her head as she watched the hawk touch down and change back into a German Shepherd.

Broots grew nervous as the jet took off. "What's going on?"

"We're exposing the Centre. We didn't want you and Debbie to be caught in the crossfire."

"Who's we?"

"Jarod and I, and our new family."

"Wait a minute, what about Syd?"

"He should be with a friend of his. We'll be stopping to pick them up in a bit. Angelo will meet us there as well."

________________________

Sydney sat in a booth at the tiny diner, sipping on the black coffee he had been served. He had been early, and Adam was a little bit late. < Speak of the devil, > he thought, smiling at the young man that had reminded him of Jarod. "Adam, it's wonderful to see you again."

"It's good to see you, Sydney." The lanky man sat down at the table across from Sydney, a thick manila folder in his hands. After ordering coffee, he opened the folder. "I brought my notes from the case I've been studying. It's a young couple, expecting their first child, but the mother is convinced that she'll never be a good mother. Take a look at this." Adam pointed to the first line on the page. 'Are you bugged?' it read. Sydney met his friend's eyes.

"That's a good question. What do you think?"

"One of the first clues I got was that the woman was alienated from her mother. See, look at this comment she made." 'With the Centre, I always assume so. I have a message from a mutual friend.'

"I see," said Sydney, nodding thoughtfully. "How is her relationship with her father?"

"Much better, so I started thinking, hey, classic Oedipal rage. But then this happened." Adam turned to the next page in notes, revealing a message from Jarod. Sydney read through it silently.

'Syd,

Please understand that I will explain this all as soon as possible. You need to leave with Adam. He'll bring you to a safehouse that we're staying in. No matter what his actions, I will vouch for him.

Jarod'

"So you see, she has underlying fears about being a parent because of the poor example her parents gave. It's another one of the problems that've been cropping up in this generation. Workaholic parents letting children bring themselves up." Adam took a sip of the coffee and grimaced. "Sydney, this coffee is terrible. What made you pick this place?"

"It's close to the office."

Adam slipped on his trench coat and gathered his folder together. "Come on. There's got to be better coffee around here someplace." Sydney followed Adam into the crisp October air.

A black sedan was sitting at the edge of the parking lot. "Tails?" asked Adam casually.

"Yes."

"I don't like tails." Adam headed toward the car, Sydney trailing him curiously. "Pardon me, gentlemen, would you know anyplace I could get a decent cup of coffee here?" The two sweepers looked at him blankly. "Come on, you must be from the area, and I need some good coffee." Still no answer. "Oh well. I tried." Adam's hands flashed past the sweepers faces, finding the pressure points on the neck that would render them unconscious. "Well, Sydney, shall we be off?"

________________________

The quiet of the field was soothing to Angelo as he rested in the bushes, waiting for the others. He had escaped from the Centre last night and begun walking north toward the meeting point that Emily had given to him. < Jarod will be here, > he told himself. The sound of a car motor approaching sent him scurrying further into the bushes. Sydney and a tall man got out of the car. Angelo tentatively reached out to the two with his senses, and immediately recoiled in pain.

Adam stiffened. "Angelo's here," he said, moving toward the bushes.

"How do you know?"

"I felt an empathic brush. After a while, you learn to pick these things up." Reaching the empath, Adam knelt down beside him. "Angelo, it's all right. I've cloaked the emotions. You should be able to sit up now." With the help of his friends, the fallen man sat up slowly.

"Pain," he whispered. "Loneliness." Every nerve in Angelo's body had been overwhelmed, just as he was overwhelmed with the desire to be able to put what he had felt into words. There was anger deep within, pain in the past, and always the sensation of standing alone, watching the world from a distance. His attempts to tie his thoughts together were halted by a low-pitched whine.

"Our ride's here," said Adam dryly as he climbed aboard the jet, Angelo and Sydney following him.

"Lillian!" Angelo greeted Lillian enthusiastically, and she returned the greeting.

"Angelo, Syd, it's good to see you." She pointed them toward their seats. Sydney looked around cautiously. Mr. Broots was seated behind him, a nervous look on his face. A tall redheaded woman was sitting in the pilot's chair, running through a preflight checklist. Adam was leaning over the control panel commenting on something, after which she gave him what could only be described as a dirty look and adjusted a knob. Giving the woman a smirk, he turned back to Sydney.

"I'll introduce you to the others before we take off. You already know Lillian and Mr. Broots. The lady who holds life and limb in her hands is Jean, and the nauseatingly cute couple in the back of the plane is Daniel and Daria Osbourne. Speaking of you, mavoureen, we're about to take off. It would be wise to find your own seat." Sydney turned around to look at the subject of his friend's scrutiny.

The lady in question was about eight months pregnant and was resting on the lap of a man that Sydney assumed to be her husband, who was rubbing his hands along the small of her back in slow circles. Her eyes were closed, a look of contentment on her thin face. "Not right now, Adam. I'm getting a back rub from the most wonderful man in the world." She opened her eyes to glare at him. "Besides, you're not in a seat."

"I'm not pregnant," he was quick to point out.

"If you were, I'd be more likely to call the tabloids than to lecture you on what you should or should not be doing." She closed her eyes again, the conversation clearly over in her mind.

"Be reasonable, mavoureen. You're probably causing his legs undue pain."

"Nah, I'm good."

Adam glared at Oz for a moment, then looked back at Daria. "If you don't get in your own seat, I will put you in that seat myself."

"No you won't," said Oz, never ceasing his motions. "You're too worried about harming her or the baby."

"By the gods, mavoureen! You're eight months pregnant! The last thing you need right now is to be jostled up and down when you should be in bed."

"That's it," hissed Daria, sliding down and advancing toward the Immortal. "I've tried to be patient about this, Adam, but you just don't stop. For the last time, I am pregnant, not porcelain. I will not break if you look at me too hard." She turned around and went back to Oz, who helped her back up onto his lap.

"Adam, you know she's not supposed to get too excited," scolded Jean as she guided the blackbird into the sky.

"And after she had to run from sweepers earlier today, the last thing she needs is to be jumping up and down like that." Lillian looked disapprovingly at him. He sighed, exasperated, and went to his seat.

"I bet Scott is glad he's in control of his stubborn female . . ."

_____________________________

"Rogue, has Angelo heard anything about the Centre getting nervous about Lane? Just a little, huh? One observatory sweeper team is no trouble; we'll remain alert in case they send out an assassin or two. We'll give her something a little more substantial to investigate. Deaths of kidnapped children always make reporters work harder. Now that Broots is out he can help them when they hack into the mainframe. What? Yes, Kent is still an unknown but we're keeping out of his way, or rather Bobby is. Oh and Rogue, I repent, next time I won't separate couples on long term sting operations. Hmmm? Okay, we will report again at 1900 hrs." Scott was chuckling as he hung up the phone.

"Okay, the first couple tid-bits have been dropped in her lap, what will she do?"

"You've been working with her, Bobby, you tell me."

"She's been checking to make sure that all the facts were right. You know it's scary the number of people that die just because they are vaguely connected to the Centre. It's almost like a donut, and worse than the Clinton Administration."

"A donut?"

"Yeah, Ororo. The Centre is almost too clean; no one dies in there, well, not on the records anyway. But then the further out in distance you get, the more people die and then it tapers off. So you have this hole in the middle of the mortality distance ratio."

________________________

"We're home."

"Thanks Jean."

"Oz, please get your wife to bed immediately."

"Coming, love?"

"Yes, you happy Adam?"

"Mr. Broots if you follow me, I'll escort you to your daughter."

"'Bout time."

"Jean, if you don't mind, I'll reunite Broots with Debbie."

"No problem, Lillian. Hi Lyetta, Emmy."

"Hi Jean, what's up Syd?"

"Lydia? Emily?"

"Close, and no we are not the nut cases you think us to be and our father is alive."

"But it was fun playing with your mind."

"Girls will you please park the Blackbird accordingly?"

"Sorry Jean, No-can-do. We're 'posed to take Angelo and Syd to Xavier. You know empath stuff."

"Lyetta, you are not an empath."

"But I was there and I know everything that happened."

"Not good enough."

< Lyetta, after you are finished with the Blackbird, please join us in my study. >

< Yes, sir. > "Jean, did you cheat?"

"Of course not."

________________________

Daria was restless, the baby was awake and preventing any kind of rest, not to mention the pressure on her bladder. Her husband was sleeping soundly. She decided to find Victandra for a talk. She silently slid out of bed and grabbed her robe. Her hand was on the doorknob when she heard Oz stir.

"Love?"

"Be back soon. Sleep."

"'Kay."

Much to her surprise, Victandra was not at her door sleeping. She looked up and down the hallway and sniffed. By the smells, Victandra hadn't been in the hall for several hours. Daria wandered downstairs looking for the shape shifter. Near the surveillance room the trail finally started getting warm. The oddity was that she did not identify any of the other X-men who would be keeping an eye on security. Charles disliked assigning any of the students late night duties, even if those students didn't sleep much anyways. Victandra was alone, engrossed with the computer, in the surveillance room. Daria's presence did not startle her.

"Where's Bishop?"

"Sick."

"Intentionally?"

"Conveniently."

"What are you working on?" The mutant silently clicked several buttons to reveal an incomplete Gotham tabloid front page. The pictures did not look obviously touched up, but they blurred an image of Adam Pierson. A very pregnant Adam Pierson. Daria smirked and turned her full attention to Victandra, who outright grinned back.

" 'Five Thousand Year Old Man Expecting Child'?"

"Figured it was the one thing in his life that he hasn't done yet."

"Adam won't forget this."

"Neither will his friends. Read the article. Does it count for that creative writing assignment?"

After a long moment of silence, Daria was laughing, "Oh, yes. That is most definitely creative. He's planning on naming it Duncan?"

You gave me the idea."

"From what I said in the Blackbird." Victandra nodded and so Daria continued. "I forgot that you were there." She paused. "Because this is partly from me, can I call the timing?"

Victandra shrugged. "I'm sending it to Bruce as soon as it's done. In the note, I'll ask him to keep it until further notice."

"Bruce can have it published?"

"And sent to a select few in Seacouver and other parts of the country."

"I'm glad that you normally refrain from the practical jokes for the teachers."

"It's more fun watching both sides battle it out."

"Why are you sending it out tonight?"

"Adam is gaining efficiency on the Shi'ar technology."

Daria chuckled and headed for the door. "Thanks for the grin and yes you earned an 'A.' 'Night Victandra." The mutant corrected a few minor mistakes, nodded her head, and sent the e-mail. She deleted all her work on the computer, and checked the security. All was still. Suddenly, where there once was a tall teenager was a large black panther. The animal stretched and curled up in the large office chair and relaxed. She watched over the estate until Logan relieved her later that morning.

________________________

< I'll tuck this in here, and then I'll smooth out the rest of the wrinkles. There, I'm done, > thought Daria, eyeing the freshly made bed with satisfaction. < Now all I have to do is get this laundry taken care of. > Her stomach growled, and she smirked as she laid her hand on it for a moment. < Correction. I'll get a snack, and then I'll take care of the laundry. Might as well get it out of the room, anyway. > After studying the laundry basket, she decided that she'd do better to kick the thing to the stairs, rather than lifting it, and nudged it out of the door. She was just debating the best way to navigate the stairs when she heard Lyetta call to her from the end of the hall.

"Mrs. O! Shouldn't you be resting?" She grabbed the basket off the floor and started carrying it down the stairs.

"Lyetta," began Daria, reaching for the banister so she could descend to the first floor. She turned around when the scent of a Slayer reached her nose. Faith was leaning against the wall.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"I need to go do laundry."

"I think you should be in bed."

Daria sighed and, turning back to the stairs, headed toward the first floor and the laundry room, the Slayer following close behind. "Faith, would you see if you can find my laptop, thesaurus, and the three notebooks I use to write in? I don't want to go back upstairs for them." < That should keep her a little busy. > She headed for the laundry room and made the discovery that Lyetta had already begun the cycle for her basket of clothing. Shrugging defeatedly, Daria made her way to the kitchen to assemble a snack.

"Heya, sugah! You're supposed ta be restin'. Why don't ya get off your feet while I fix you a snack."

"Actually, I'm not really hungry," said Daria quickly, leaving the kitchen. Peeking around the corner to check for any other well-intentioned team members, she had time to scramble back into an alcove as Faith walked through the corridor, her arms full with the items she had requested earlier. Daria moved as stealthily as she could toward the common room. For the last three weeks, ever since the afternoon they had pulled Sydney, Broots, and Angelo from the Centre, she had been treated like a porcelain doll. She was babied, pampered, fussed over, and no matter how many times she told them to stop, they just kept going. Ironically enough, her husband was the only one who put a temporary end to the treatment.

< Yes! I made it past them all, > she thought, entering the room. She had been following Oz's scent across the mansion, intent on finding some sanity. The werewolf looked up from a box of videotapes.

"Hey, Daria." He stood up, a tape in hand, and walked across the room, giving her a kiss. Looking her up and down, his face changed to a worried expression. "Shouldn't you be-"

< Don't say it, Oz. I love you more than life itself, but I may have to kill you. >

"-wearing socks? It's the end of October, love. You'll catch a cold." Oz pulled her down to the couch with him. "I was just about to go looking for you. Figured we'd grab a snack and curl up on the couch watching Mystery Science Theater, like we did when we were dating."

"Thank you so much," she said, tears forming in her eyes as she threw her arms around his neck.

< I didn't know she liked the show that much. > He held her for a moment, then kissed her and stood up. "You go ahead and get the tape ready, and I'll head off to the kitchen and get a snack. Is there anything in particular you wanted, or should I surprise you?"

"Surprise me." Oz left to complete his quest, and Daria began her awkward struggle to get to her feet. Attaining that goal, she moved to the television and popped the tape into the VCR. Then she began moving through the room, straightening books and piles of magazines. Just as she was straightening a crooked picture on the wall, Jarod came in.

"Daria, you shouldn't be doing that." He crossed the room and began to steer her toward the couch. "Remember, Hank said no physical exertion."

"Physical exertion? Jarod, I was straightening a picture!" Jarod continued to admonish her as if he had heard nothing.

"At this stage in your pregnancy, overtaxing yourself is dangerous."

"When are you guys going to stop this?"

"Daria, calm down. Remember your blood pressure."

"I wouldn't have to worry about my blood pressure if you guys would stop treating me like this!"

"Shouldn't you be getting some rest?"

Daria became very quiet, which Jarod optimistically took as a good sign. He was too busy trying to guide her to the couch to notice her plant her feet. She balled her hands into fists and let fly with her right. Jarod, not expecting the blow, fell to the ground, his hands clutching his nose. It was at this moment that Oz returned to the room, prize in hand. He looked at his wife, her face flushed with anger. He looked at one of the greatest geniuses of this time. Nodding to himself, he set the food down on an end table and helped Jarod up.

"Why don't you go see Hank about your nose," he said, showing him to the door of the room. < It's a good thing Charles is in Washington this week. I don't know how we're going to explain this one. > Jarod nodded in agreement.

"I hope she didn't hurt her hand," said Jarod, closing the door behind him. Oz turned toward the daunting task of calming his wife.

"I am so sick of being treated like a nervous lapdog!" Daria paced back and forth across the room. "I can't step out of our room without hearing, 'Can I get you a snack?' 'Why don't you let me carry that?' 'Shouldn't you be getting some rest?'" Oz nodded mutely as she stopped pacing. "I mean, it's not like I'm going to crumble into dust if someone breathes on me. I'm pregnant, not an invalid." Oz moved in behind her and began to gently rub her back. "It's just so frustrating!"

"But did you have to break his nose, love?" Daria giggled, feeling some of her tension ease out.

"The look on his face was priceless. I caught him completely by surprise."

"He probably hasn't had anyone do that to him, ever." Oz continued to rub her back, smiling as he felt her relax. "Are you still up for the movie?"

"Mm-hmm," she murmured, closing her eyes. "If you don't put me into a coma first." She sat down on the couch with a minor amount of difficulty, and watched as he dragged the table with the food to make it within easy reach. "So, what did you get?"

"Bananas, peanut butter, and milk." Oz pushed play on the remote and sat down, leaning against the arm of the couch. Daria scooted over until she was snuggled against his chest, his left hand resting on her belly. As the opening credits ran, she opened up a banana, picked up a spoon full of peanut butter, and sliced of a piece of banana. She repeated this action after eating the first bite, and offered the spoon to her husband. They continued to eat their snack like this throughout the show.

Oz breathed in his wife's scent. < This was a good idea, > he thought to himself as he absently rubbed her back with his right hand. She had been so nervous lately, though she hid it well. An afternoon of funny movies and dinner away from the team was exactly what she needed right now. Well, that and to gain two more pounds by the middle of next week. Last week's examination by Hank had ended with the same strict instruction that she needed to gain weight properly, and that if she didn't he'd put her on bed rest until he thought her weight was satisfactory.

Daria jerked, startled, when the baby aimed a vicious kick at her ribcage. "I'm starting to miss the days when that was a novelty," she said, sitting up cautiously. Setting the VCR to the task of rewinding, her husband began to clean up what little mess they had made. "Did Adam say where we were going?"

"Just to dress formally. You did get a dress, right?"

"Please. I'm still trying to block out the memories," she moaned. "Jean and Rogue made me ride in a wheelchair so I wouldn't overexert myself. Yes, I have a dress."

________________________

Daria let her feet dangle. As was usual, the chairs in the restaurant were set too high, which meant that getting back out of the chair was going to be a difficult process. "So how did Gus explain that one to Lissie?"

"He caved and told the truth, which of course meant that he slept on the couch for the next week. It could have been worse, though. Amanda's been known to leave men naked and stranded by the road for less."

"Do you know this from experience?"

"It was Greece. Don't ever pretend that you've lost a piece of her jewelry."

"Thanks for the tip, Adam." Daria leaned back in the chair in a vain attempt to give the baby more room. The baby's violent assault had continued through the evening, and at that moment, she wanted nothing more than a chance to let Oz ease the ache in her lower back. Oz and Adam were discussing a theory that had captured Adam's attention, and she looked around the room for a distraction, finding exactly in that in the couple arguing heatedly by the door. She watched as the man threw cash onto the table and stalked out. This exit seemed to instantly deflate the woman, and she slumped across the table, burying her forehead in her hands. Her attention was pulled back to her own table when Oz touched her hand. "Sorry," she said, embarrassed.

"Now that I have your attention, mavoureen, I'd like to tell you why I brought you out here tonight. Duncan, Amanda, Gus, Lissie, and I have decided to set up a trust fund for the baby. Would you care for some dessert? I hear the chocolate mousse is quite delicious."

"I'm sorry, Adam, what was that?"

"I thought that your hearing was much better. We've set up a trust fund for the baby, although I suspect that Amanda wants a namesake out of the deal." Adam was enormously pleased with himself. He loved surprises, and they hadn't even begun to see this coming.

"I - I don't know what to say, Adam." She slid out of her chair, using the back of the chair as leverage, and went around to the far side. "Thank you, Adam. From the bottom of my heart," she said, embracing him.

"Don't do the waterworks," he instructed her. "Now that that's all over with, would either of you care for some dessert? No? How about a night of dancing?"

"Right now I'd prefer a night of resting, preferably after a certain someone gives me a back rub. My back feels like it's on fire."

Adam went from laidback to alert in an instant. "Mavoureen, has the baby been giving you some vicious kicks today?" At Daria's grimace, he asked a second question. "Have you been doing a lot of cleaning this week, going through closets, that sort of thing?" She nodded, and Adam cursed under his breath in a language that neither of the younger people knew. "We better get you home."

"I'm afraid that no one will be going anywhere." Adam cursed his inattention as he came to the realization that the restaurant was being robbed. The three friends were prodded toward the center of the room with the other patrons. "We would like to take this opportunity to divest you of any valuables that you might be carrying. If you would please empty your pockets, wallets, and jewelry in the sack that my associate will be bringing by, we'll be on our way." Daria watched the young woman from earlier as she twitched her hand toward the hem of her dress. Up close, she had the smell of gunpowder on her.

"Don't do it," she whispered. The woman looked up.

"What was that?"

"Don't pull your weapon. They're just taking some money and jewelry. It's not worth it." The man with the sack came to Daria, and she held up her hands. "All I have is my ID. Do you want that?" The man growled and began to go through her pockets. Finding nothing, he checked for jewelry. < It's a good thing that my fingers are so swollen that I can't wear my rings. > Satisfied, the man turned to his next victim, patting her down roughly.

"Well, well, what have we here," he said, pulling a gun from a leg holster. "You weren't planning on using this thing on me, were you?" Lifting the weapon into the air, he discharged the full clip into the ceiling.

Daria felt Oz push her to the ground and Adam move to cover her, and then it seemed to go in slow motion. Oz jerked and began to fall toward the ground. Events began happening all around her, but there was only Oz. She crawled to him and pulled away what was left of his shirt to examine the wound. Adam fought to keep the two of them from being trampled as frightened patrons began to rush for the exits.

"Somebody call 911!" Adam looked up to see the woman who owned the gun clear a path to the three of them. "Grace Hart. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Do your bullets have silver in them?"

"Yes, they do."

"Adam, we have to get this bullet out of his shoulder before the silver gets into his bloodstream. Grace, can you get -" Her sentence was cut short by a cry of pain. "Oh, this is so not good."

"Your water just broke, didn't it?" At Daria's nod, Adam turned to the other woman. "Could you please help her?"

"I don't know anything about this!"

"Well, unless you know how to pry a bullet out of a man's shoulder, you'll be more help with her."

"Umm, OK, I can handle this. Can you start your breathing exercises?"

"I didn't take Lamaze! I'm supposed to be drugged up to my eyebrows right now!"

"Do we have an ETA on the ambulance?"

"The operator says it's stuck in traffic." The only waiter who had stayed when everyone left carried the phone into the room. "They want to know how the gunshot victim is doing."

"Peachy," said Oz through gritted teeth as Adam poured a liberal amount of brandy over the wound. "How's Daria?"

"People who talk about the wonders of natural childbirth are full of it," she panted.

"You're going to have to see if she's crowning," instructed Adam as he pulled the bullet out with a pair of salad tongs and reached for the small bottle of holy water.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Lady, trust me, he's not kidding," said Oz, wincing as Adam applied pressure to the wound.

"What do I do?"

Adam sighed. "Just lift up her skirt, take off her underwear, and see if you can see a baby's head." Grace did exactly that.

"Oh, yeah. That kid's got red hair."

"Mavoureen, how far apart are the contractions?"

"They don't stop!"

"You're going to have to calm down."

"Don't freakin' tell me to calm down, Adam! Why don't you try doing this for a while, and see how calm you can stay."

"All right, listen, this is what we're going to have to do. You, waiter, support her. Grace, Daria, I'm going to talk you through this. Grace, you've got the easy part. There are three things you're responsible for: Catch the baby, don't drop the baby, and if you do drop the baby, pick it back up. It'll be a bit slippery at first. Daria, as the contraction starts to build, you need to begin pushing. Do you know how to do that?" Daria nodded, breathing hard as she did as she was told. "Again," he instructed, watching in satisfaction as the baby's head emerged. Grace nervously supported the head, ready to catch the rest of it. "Use your little finger and clean the gunk out of her mouth and then get the nose. Clean the mouth one more time to be sure. Grace, you'll have to work the baby out one shoulder at a time. Check to see if the umbilical cord is around her neck." At the woman's headshake, he continued. "Lead the head to the left leg. Now lift the shoulder, be gentle, this is still a baby. Wiggle the baby down, there's the other shoulder . . .one more push and we're home free . . . "

"It's a girl!" Grace eased the feet free. "Now what do I do?"

"Is she breathing?"

"Yes, she is."

"Excuse me, waiter, we need plenty of clean towels, now! Grace, keep that baby at the same level as Daria." Adam cautiously checked to see if Oz's wound was still bleeding, nodding as he saw that the wound was closing on its own.

"Sorry."

"Is the umbilical cord still pulsating?"

"It looks like it's slowing down."

"Do you have clean shoelaces?" Grace pointedly looked down at her heels. "Here, use mine."

"Here are the towels."

"Good, dry off the baby and keep her warm . . . and at Daria's hips until the cord stops pulsating!"

"The d--- cord isn't moving now."

"There's no need for language."

"You had a need for language earlier, Adam." Oz sat up, looking a little dizzy but otherwise fine.

"Now at about 8 inches tie the shoelace tight, and at 10 inches tie the other. They have to be tight so that we don't have anyone hemorrhaging. That done? Here, use my knife to cut in between the two laces."

"Eww, the blood squirted." The waiter took one look at the blood and fainted. Grace snorted. "What a wuss."

"How you doing, mavoureen? Ready to meet your daughter?" Adam motioned for Grace to hand the infant to her mother. "She'll stop screaming if you'll nurse her."

"I need someone to help me with the zipper," she said, both hands full. She gave Oz a tired smile as he draped a towel over her shoulder and adjusted her dress. Grace looked at Adam accusingly.

"I thought he was shot!"

"He was," said Adam.

"Then why is he over there, apparently none the worse?" Adam looked at the young woman, debating what to tell her.

"The ambulance is coming," announced Oz. Daria looked up in alarm.

"Adam, they'll be looking for a gunshot victim. We'll have a hard time explaining that the victim healed already."

"They can't move you until the placenta is out. Oz, see if you can find your coat. Hopefully that will keep the bloodstains on your shirt hidden. Grace, Oz will tell you everything if you give him a ride to the hospital." Adam smirked, pleased with himself because he had foisted off the explanations to someone else. Daria gave him a dirty look, but kept her mouth shut as the ambulances pulled up in front of the building. The paramedics rushed onto the scene and took over.

"Okay, where are the victims?"

"Over here."

"Where's the gunshot victim?"

"Well, he's passed out but I didn't find an entrance or exit wound when I completed a physical exam."

"You a medic?"

"No, Dr, Adam Pierson, MD."

"Great."

"I am Mrs. Osbourne's OB."

"Mrs. Osbourne?" Daria nodded, "How are you doing?"

"For someone who just went through one of the most painful experiences of their lives, not too bad."

"We've got a placenta coming."

"Ma'am, may we examine the baby and you?"

Daria's eyes darted toward her husband for a moment, then nodded her agreement. Carefully easing the baby away, the first paramedic began to check the infant's vitals while the second quickly delivered the placenta, placing it in a plastic biohazard bag to have it checked out later.

"Dan, run and get the gurney." The two paramedics carefully loaded Daria onto the stretcher, strapped her in securely, and handed her the baby. Adam followed them into the ambulance, and Oz was left with Grace as it pulled away toward the hospital.

"So, when do I start hearing my explanation?" Grace looked at the young man with a stern expression on her face, arms crossed. He sighed.

"I'll tell you on the way to the hospital." Grace stalked toward her car, Oz close behind. As she moved into the traffic of the city, Oz began his story. "I'm a werewolf."

"WHAT?" Oz reached over and grabbed the wheel, steering the car back into the proper lane.

"I'm a werewolf. Got bit. Do you want me to drive?"

"No, I can handle it. A werewolf?"

"For seven years."

"Does your wife know?"

Oz nodded. "A week after we met."

"Is she a werewolf too?"

"Nope."

Grace shook her head as she pressed the pedal toward the floor of the car. "This is too weird."

"That was my reaction."

_______________________

Daria gently touched the soft red hair that covered the head of her newborn daughter. The child had fallen asleep again after the admittance and arrival at the hospital, and Adam had pulled some strings to allow Daria to hold her until Oz arrived.

"Do you have a name picked out for her yet?"

Daria looked over at Adam as he finished washing his hands and discarding the debris from the stitches he had given her. "I have some ideas. We wanted to wait and see which name suited her better. And don't think I haven't forgotten what you did to Oz, Adam."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, mavoureen." Adam's grin belied his words.

"I believe it went something like this: 'If you give Oz a ride to the hospital, he'll tell you everything'. You know he'll tell her everything! What if she thinks he's crazy? What if she thinks he's serious? The last thing Oz needs is some lunatic werewolf hunter after him."

"She's a pre-Immie, Daria." Adam stood next to her bed, looking down at the tiny woman and her infant. "Besides, it's the least I can do after I made her deliver the baby. I'd forgot what a mess that made."

"You like her, don't you?"

"What makes you say that?"

"If you didn't like her, you would have told her to take a hike when she started demanding answers. Will you take her on as a student?"

"If I'm still around when she dies. Listen, mavoureen, I'm going to go see about checking you out tomorrow morning, and then I'm going to go pick up some clothes for you to wear home. Better pick something up for Oz, too." He had barely left the room when Oz and Grace arrived.

"Hey, love." The werewolf gave his wife a kiss and turned to look at the baby in her arms. "So this is Faith Elizabeth," he said, running a finger across the child's cheek.

"That's what I was thinking, too." Daria turned her attention to Grace. "You can come in. After all, you have seen just about all of me now."

"And let me tell you, that was pretty messy." Grace laughed as she walked around the bed to the other side. "All that blood and liquid and gunk. I've seen cleaner mass-murder sites."

"It's a good thing I wasn't fond of that dress," admitted Daria ruefully. "With that much blood, it'd be impossible to get clean. And I'm definitely thinking epidural next time. By the time Adam had made sure everything was cleared out down there, I was begging for local antiseptic for the stitches."

"You got stitches? How many?"

"Only six. This one took nineteen," she said, gesturing to the scar on her neck. Grace examined it with admiration.

"What's that from?"

Daria looked at her for a moment. "Vampire."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Nope. Lost a lot of blood that time, too, but it wasn't nearly this messy. Don't you agree, Oz?" She looked over at her husband, who was several shades paler than normal. "Oz? Maybe you should sit down."

He shook his head. "Nah, I'm good."

"Are you sure?" Both women were looking at him in concern now. "I mean, we started talking about all the blood and gunk and stitches, and you were looking a little pale, kinda like you are now . . ." Grace trailed off as Oz gripped the railing of the bed.

"Oz, sit down!" Oz complied with his wife's wish. "You're not allowed to pass out on me, honey. Especially since you haven't gotten to hold your daughter yet. Honestly, all the carnage you've seen in the twenty-four years you've been alive, and this is what makes you get woozy?"

"Said carnage was in battle situations," he pointed out. "Not on our anniversary."

"He's right, you know," said Adam from the doorway. "No matter what you've seen, it can't prepare you for the first time you witness the gruesomeness of giving birth." Setting a shopping bag down at the foot of the bed, he stood there and smirked at the trio. "Oz nearly fainted, didn't he?"

"He couldn't handle us talking about the blood and the gunk and the stitches," snorted Grace.

"Not many men can. Grace, may I talk to you outside?" At her shrug, he gestured toward the door, following behind her.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"Well, I mostly wanted to leave the two of them alone. This is their first child, and it is their first anniversary, and despite the impression I must have made on you, I am not a completely insensitive chauvinist." He stuck out his hand. "Hello, my name is Adam Pierson."

"Grace Hart." She shook hands with him in a mock-somber way.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Grace. I don't want to seem to forward, but may I ask for your telephone number?"

"Of course," she said, a smile creeping up her face. The two of them walked to the nurse's station and Grace scribbled her number on a slip of paper. Adam solemnly tucked it into his jacket pocket.

_______________________

"Was it really that painful?"

"Yes," said Daria. "But it was worth it." She looked down at the small bundle in her arms. "She was worth it."

Oz leaned over the bed and began tracing his daughter's features. "She's got your nose."

"I'm hoping her eyes turn green," admitted Daria. "Do you want to hold her?" At Oz's nod, she scooted over on the bed. "Have a seat. You make me nervous, hovering over me like that." When he had sat down on the edge of the bed, she placed their daughter in his hands, guiding them into the proper places. "You need to support her head and neck, like this."

"Wow." Oz gazed down at the sleeping infant. "She's so tiny."

"She'll grow." At the sound of Adam clearing his throat in the doorway, they both turned to look at him.

"I took the liberty of making a phone call for you, although it turns out that it was unnecessary. Not only did Faith already know, apparently William had called and asked why Buffy was suddenly doubled over with pain. Seems you were broadcasting, mavoureen."

Daria made a face. "I forgot we had all those phone calls to make. Thanks for reminding me, Adam."

"Don't mention it. Anyway, I think it's about time for her to go, so she can sleep and you can rest."

_______________________

Grace stalked toward her desk, dumping her keys and the bag that contained her laptop onto the floor. She was late for the daily briefing, and the fact that she hadn't yet had coffee was making her mood worse. Dashing into the room, she slipped into a seat in the back.

"Well, look at who decided to join us today. Good to see you, Miss Hart. Care to explain your tardiness?"

Standing up, Grace looked straight into the eyes of her superior. "Yes sir. I was involved in a robbery last night. I left the details on your voice mail, sir."

"Why don't you share the details with the rest of us?"

"Sir, have you listened to the message yet?"

"I don't think that's necessary, Hart."

"Very well, sir." Grace cleared her throat and began. "Last night I went to dinner with Matthews, sir. We had an argument in the restaurant and he left."

"Do we really need to know this, agent?"

"Essential to the report, sir. After Matthews left, I prepared to pay for my meal when eight gunmen entered the room. All of the patrons of the restaurant were brought into the center of the room, where we were asked to turn over our valuables. I was unable to pull my weapon because of the crowded situation. As the gunmen began searching each of the hostages, they discovered my gun and discharged the bullets into the ceiling. This caused a panic among the hostages, and they were unable to regain control of the situation."

"Is that all?"

"No sir." Several half-strangled groans rose up from the others. "One of the hostages was a pregnant woman. I ended up delivering her baby. After that I was asked to give reports to the police. I was released with my gun at 0700, and I returned to my apartment to shower and change."

"Explanation accepted, Agent."

"Thank you, sir." She began to sit back down.

"Agent Matthews will fill you in on what you missed." He ended the briefing and exited the room. Grace gave Eric an icy glare and headed toward her desk, Eric on her heels.

"Grace, about last night . . ."

"Not right now, Eric. Last night I saw something wonderful, something I want to have, and you can't give it to me." She poured out a cup of coffee and began gulping it down.

"What, you wanna have a kid?"

She snorted. "Not hardly. You couldn't pay me enough to go through what that woman went through last night. I was talking about the way her husband looked at her, the way she looked back. I want that kind of love, and trust, and care. And I realized something: You can't give that to me. It's all about sex with you. I want more than that."

"So that's it? You're breaking up with me?"

"We were never really together."

His grin disappeared. "If that's the way you want it, Gracie Lou." Eric spun on his heel and strode away.

Grace sighed. < There goes my big chance. > She began to listlessly sort through the small pile of paperwork on her desk. < Wait a second; he never gave me the details from this morning! > She started up from her chair, but was stopped by the ringing of her cell phone. "Hart."

"Grace, it's Adam. I just thought I'd call and let you know that she's being released from the hospital this afternoon, around one. I think she'd appreciate having you there."

"One?"

"That's right. If you want to talk to her, though, you might want to get here earlier."

"I'll be there. I just have to catch up on some paperwork. Thanks for letting me know, Adam."

"My pleasure, Grace."

"Goodbye, Adam."

"Until later, Grace." She hung up the phone and glanced at her watch. < Three hours. I better go track down someone and get the report from this morning. >

_______________________

Adam walked away from the payphone, a small smile on his face. He caught himself just before he walked back into the room. < What am I doing? I'm acting like a lovesick teenager! > Carefully schooling his features back to their normal deadpan state, he turned away and headed toward the nursery.

"Really? It's going to get really interesting in here. Sure, Faith, bring them all over when they arrive. It'll be pandemonium, but we should be used to that. I'll see you then." Daria hung up the phone and turned to Jane. "Well, the Sunnydale gang is on the way. Seems Sarah talked to Amy as soon as Buffy started feeling the pains, and they were on a plane before dark. They're already at JFK, and Faith and the others will bring the whole group straight here."

"Great! I haven't really gotten the chance to work with Willow in a while." Jane leaned back in her chair, propping her booted feet up on the edge of the bed. "So, how are you feeling?"

Daria wrinkled her nose at her friend. "Move your feet, Lane."

"Who is this 'Lane' you speak of?"

"All right, move your feet Jane White." The woman smirked at her friend. "I'm in a fair amount of pain. I'm still a little tired. I'm ready to get out of this hospital." She shuddered. "This place smells horrid, like pain and fear and death."

"That would explain why Oz beat tracks when I showed up."

"It wasn't anything personal, Jane. It's worse for him than me, and he stayed all night with me so I wouldn't be alone." She wheeled the topic around suddenly. "Have you seen her yet?"

"I went by the nursery and peeked. She looks a lot like you."

"So I'm all red and wrinkly then?"

"You know what I mean."

"So how's snugglebunny?"

"Jamie's fine, thanks. Did you call your parents?"

Daria sighed. "Dad's coming. Mom's not. She's at a law conference in Quebec."

"You did go into labor early."

"She'll be there for the next month."

"Oh. Well, at least Jake'll be here."

"Dad wouldn't miss it. Quinn should get here at around the same time."

"Are you two finished with your girl talk?"

"For the time being, Adam."

"I brought your daughter down. I thought you might like to feed her before the masses arrive."

"Thanks, Adam. Jane, would you like to hold her while I get ready?"

"Sure." She held out her arms and accepted the baby from Adam, who quickly left the room. Daria unbuttoned her shirt.

"There we are, little one."

"So what did you name her?"

"Faith Elizabeth. It's the name that suited her the most."

"It does suit her."

_______________________

Faith steered the van into a parking spot. "All right, we're here. Now will everyone please get out?"

Xander leapt out of the van. "Safe, oh, safe. I kiss the sweet ground."

"Be glad we didn't make you take a cab." Faith slid out of the driver's seat and headed toward the front entrance.

"Oz, long time no see! Watcha doin' out here?"

"Ugh, how can he be so cheerful?" Buffy looked over at Willow's mutterings. "None of us got any sleep last night."

"I think it's a caffeine high," offered Andrew as they reached Oz. After a round of quick embraces, he led them to the elevator.

"So, we didn't get to ask earlier. Boy or girl?"

"Girl. Seven pounds, six ounces. Beautiful." Oz's face was lit with a rare smile. The elevator arrived at the proper floor, and they all moved toward her room. Adam was standing outside, leaning against the door.

"Methos, how have you been doing?"

"I'm well, Anyanka. None of you can go in right now."

"Why?" Buffy closed her eyes, then turned pink. "Oh."

"I'll thank you to stay out of my head, Elizabeth Anne Summers," called Daria. "I'll be done in a minute."

"What's she doing?"

"Oh, she's-um-she's . . ."

"She's feeding the baby right now," said Adam.

"Yeah, that's it," Buffy covered, sounding relieved. "What's her name, anyway?"

"Faith Elizabeth."

"Really?" Oz nodded, and Faith found herself unexpectedly on the verge of crying. "Wow."

"You can come in now, guys." The building crowd poured into the room and circled the bed.

"I've got first dibs," said Buffy, holding out her hands for the baby. Daria handed Faith to the Slayer. After the obligatory cuddlings, she passed the child on to Anya, who was standing next to her.

"Oh, she's so cute! Xander, we must have one." Xander looked a little pale at this announcement as his wife passed the infant on to her namesake, who looked a little awestruck.

"Wow." She adjusted the blanket around little Faith. "This is pretty cool." Faith brushed her fingers across the soft cap of red hair, then passed her on to Willow.

Willow stared down at Oz's daughter. < It's a good thing she doesn't look much like him, or this would be really weird. Well, actually, the hair is him. And I'll bet her eyes turn green, like his. > She smoothed down the baby's hair, which was beginning to resemble the spiked look that Oz had worn when they were dating, and passed him to Giles.

"It's obvious who this child belongs to. Congratulations, you two."

"She did most of the work," Oz pointed out.

"The only part that seemed like work was the last half hour. Next time, epidural."

"You better believe it," chimed in both the Slayers.

"I definitely didn't expect that to happen. Slayers and Trackers are usually not that close, and I haven't heard of a Tracker broadcasting like that. No, Rupert, don't give her to me!" Amy stepped back, hands raised in protest. "Babies and I do not mix. They don't like me, I don't like them, and so we stay away from each other. No offense, Daria."

"None taken, Amy." At this moment, Faith Elizabeth apparently decided that she was tired of being passed around and began to fuss, at which point she was summarily returned to her mother. "Sure, leave me the hard part." After she had coaxed the child into sleep, she turned to the rest of the group. "I think it might be best if we postpone the game of hot potato until a later date."

"It's just as well," said Cordelia, whose turn was next. "The last thing I need right now is to start feeling all maternal, since Trent and I can't have our own."

"Where is Trent?"

Faith snickered. "Scott took Trent, Spike, and Angel back to the mansion. The daylight thing."

"Oh boy." Daria's eyes were wide. "Trent, William, Angel, Logan, and Victandra, all in the same building?"

"There won't be anything left when we get back."

_______________________

"I don't care what you say, you don't serve blood at a baby shower!" Logan glared at the bleached blond vampire. "You serve beer."

"Oh, right, 'cause we all know that beer tastes so good with cake," said Spike rolling his eyes.

Kurt watched the two of them in amusement, Trent next to him. "He'll skewer Spike with his claws before this is over," he said, his soft German accent taking the edge off the words.

Trent shook his head. "Logan helped train Buffy, and Buffy and Spike spar with each other all the time. He may get in the claws, but Spike'll get in some blows of his own."

"If I knew that he was going to be this much trouble when Dru first brought him home, I would have staked him then and there," Angel muttered. "Everyone knows you serve scotch at baby showers."

"I vote that we open some curtains now."

"Hey, I'm not doing anything." Trent protested.

"Precisely."

"Zoo, what do you think we should serve at the shin-dig?" Logan asked the only female in the room.

"Vampire dust?"

"Seriously."

"I was kinda hoping to correct Angel's old error. I understand that British vampire dust adds something special to mixed drinks."

"Pet, I'm beginning to think that you like me."

"I can tear a throat out better than you, oh, that's right, you can't tear out any throats."

"Pet . . ."

"Push me and I will kill you by biting my way though your neck."

Trent and Kurt watched as the two argued, Angel and Logan making comments from the sidelines. "As entertaining as this is, we should probably start setting up," said Kurt, heading toward the pile of decorations waiting to be hung.

"Won't we miss the skewering?"

"Bishop will catch it on the security cameras."

"So, what do we serve to drink?"

"The fruit punch Jean made before she left."

_______________________

Quinn strode confidently down the hospital hallway, a tiny part of her enjoying the stares she received even as she actively ignored them. After stopping to ask directions for the specific room, she quickly located it and walked in, smirking to herself when she saw Adam leaning against the wall. "Adam, the society found out about your dying and miraculous recovery." She received her satisfaction when he quickly turned around. "Actually, not really. Just checking to see if you were paying attention."

"Is Max going to make it in?"

"Couldn't wake him up. Is that my niece?" Quinn held out her arms for the baby, and Daria carefully, if a little unwillingly, passed little Faith into her hands. "Boy, is she cute. I think she looks like me." The new aunt pushed up the sleeves on her shirt, revealing the blue tattoo on her inner wrist. "You better not spit up on me," she warned the infant, who yawned.

Daria chuckled. "Some things never change." She turned her head toward the door when she heard the muffled crash outside. Her father's head poked into the door.

"Daria? Heya, kiddo! Where's my granddaughter?"

"Quinn's holding her, dad." < Faith, could you start moving everyone out of the room? >

< Sure thing. Who do you want left? >

< Just immediate family and you. I've got a bad feeling about this. > As the group began to file out, Jake sat down.

"I'm sorry about Helen, Daria." His voice was hushed. "I tried to talk her out of doing this, but you know how she is."

"It's all right, Dad. I know. I wish I didn't, but I know. Would you like to hold her?"

Her father brightened. "Sure!" Faith shifted uncomfortably, Daria's cloaked apprehension bleeding through the link as the child was placed into his hands.

< I'll catch her if he starts to drop her, > she teased.

< Would you? Dad has always been an unbelievable clutz. >

< Of course. Can't let anything happen to my goddaughter. >

_______________________

Lissie wearily climbed off her bike and unhooked the saddlebags. "Why is it that I'm the only one that gets pulled over?" She looked over at her husband, who was parking his bike.

"That's what happens when you drive like you're possessed," he laughed, pulling his sword from the scabbard on the bike and sliding it into his coat. "Ya think Xavier knows that Adam, Duncan, and Faith put out an open invitation to a week-long party at his place?"

Lissie shrugged. "Gus, he's a telepath. Who knows? I get the feeling that Faith was more behind it than Duncan, though. She was always one for a party." The Immortal winced as she tried to use her fingers to untangle her hair. "I say we skip going to the hospital and take showers instead."

"Works for me." Gus slipped his arm around her waist. She smiled up at him as she returned the gesture, and they climbed up the stairs to the entrance. The door had already been opened by the time they arrived. "Kurt, it's been awhile."

"That it has, my friend. Felicity, I must say you look lovely." The mutant bowed over her hand.

"Watch it, you, she's taken," Gus mock-growled at his friend. "Can you show us to a room with a shower?" Kurt nodded and headed inside, leaving the two to follow him. "Where is everyone?"

"Most of them went to the hospital to visit, despite the fact that Daria is coming home in two hours. The ones with the 'sunlight allergy' are supposedly helping to decorate for the baby shower."

"I'm afraid to ask."

"Let's just say that there's a video everyone will be watching. And when those involved recover from the damage inflicted, they will also enjoy it. By the way, who invited you?"

"Duncan invited us," said Lissie. "Is Charles aware of what's happening?"

"To quote Faith, 'What Chuck don't know won't hurt us.' He's in Washington this week."

_______________________

Faith felt the muffled relief from Daria when her daughter was returned to the safety of Oz's arms and Jake left. "Worried?"

"Dad knows something of what we do, but not much. Any more information would put him in danger. Whenever we visit, I worry that the pieces will come together, or he'll see something that makes him realize what's going on."

"Daria? Oz?" Xander poked his head into the room. "Your favorite team of mutants have arrived, and the Scoobies are going to talk someone into taking us out to the mansion for showers and caffeine. Is there anything you want us to bring in before we leave?"

"I want a Coke," said Daria, smirking at Faith. "I haven't been allowed to have caffeine in months."

"One Coke it is. Faith, did you get everything you needed for the-mmph!" Xander's speech was cut off by a Slayer's elbow strategically placed into his solar plexus. "That was way harsh, Faith."

"What was that, Xander?" Daria looked up at her husband's best friend.

"Um, nothing," he said, putting on us best innocence face, which only confirmed her suspicions that it was something.

"Faith." The Immortal Slayer had a guarded look on her face, and Daria knew instinctively that she was hiding something. "What are you up to?"

"Not much." Faith leaned against the wall. "Just a little party at the mansion."

"How little?"

"I only invited twenty people, but they might invite a few as well."

"How long are they planning to stay?"

"It shouldn't go more than a week."

"And how did you convince Charles that it was a good idea?"

"He doesn't know yet."

"You hope. Who does know?"

"All the rest of us knew except you and Oz. Faith wanted it to be a surprise," said Jean from the doorway.

"Oh, it is."

_______________________

"Thanks for dropping me off, Cheryl." Grace undid her seatbelt. "We should get together next time you're in the city."

"That'd be great, Gracie! We never get to see each other." Cheryl smiled sunnily at her friend. "Do you think they'd mind if I came up and peeked? I love babies."

"They probably wouldn't mind, I guess." The FBI agent scrambled mentally, looking for a way to keep the other woman from going in, and then she gave up. "Come on in with me. Maybe you can meet Adam."

"You really hit it off with him, didn't you?" Grace looked at her blankly. "You never talked about Eric, ever, but you spent most of our lunch together talking about Adam," she added, steering her small car into a parking space beside a large van. The former Miss United States dropped her keys into her purse and followed Grace into the hospital.

"All I'm saying is, she didn't have to elbow me like that," said a tall dark-haired man who was gingerly rubbing his stomach. "I mean, Faith could've broken some ribs."

"Considering that you just spoiled a surprise that she'd been planning for close to three weeks, I'd say you got off easy. Who wants to drive?"

"I think Andrew is the most coherent of all of us," a slender redhead answered, smiling up at a man with sandy brown hair.

"Are you mocking my coherency, Willow? I'll have you know that I am completely aware of my surrounding always, and -Where did we park the van?"

"I think my point has been made," the woman said smugly.

"Just as long as I can get a shower at the end and be with Trent, I don't care at this point. That flight was horrid, and -Aaagghh!" The brunette who was speaking crumpled to the ground, clutching her head. "Sarah, are you getting this?"

"Yes." A delicate-looking teenager closed her eyes, and the blonde who had seemed casually relaxed was in an alert, guarded posture.

"Got it," she said, sprinting toward the afore-mentioned van, most of the others following closely behind her.

"Are you all right? Do you need any help?" Grace looked at the two women remaining in the parking lot.

"I'm just great," muttered the woman, who was still crouched on the ground searching through her purse. She pulled out a prescription bottle and tossed two pills into her mouth, swallowing them dry, and looked up at the three people standing around her. "If you're going to stand there, could someone help me up?" The teenager held out her arms, and soon the woman was standing on her own two feet. "Usually I introduce myself to people who see me crumpled up on the ground in extreme pain. Cordelia Chase."

"I'm Grace Hart, and this is my friend Cheryl Fraser."

"You're Grace Hart? Wow, it's nice to meet you. I'm a friend of Daria's." The girl next to her nudged her with an elbow. "Oh, this is Sarah Leukhardt. We were just . . .acting out a part." Cordelia smiled brightly at the FBI agent. "You know, Adam has said so much about you. He's been waiting for you to show up."

"Really?"

"Definitely. Normally he's all sarcastic and deadpan, so any change from that is a welcome diversion, y'know? Anyway, he's around Daria's room. Do you know where it is?"

"I think I can find it."

_______________________

"So tell me more about this pre-Immie, Methos," grinned Duncan. "Daria says you were flirting with her horribly."

"Mavoureen needs to learn how to keep her mouth shut," Adam growled, much to the other Immortals amusement.

"Oh, how sweet, Methos has a crush." Amanda was giggling, oblivious to the glares Adam was throwing at her. "I think I'll tell her about that one time in Greece, when-"

"You will not." Adam stalked back into the hospital room. "Call them off."

"What's the matter, Adam, can't take the teasing?" Daria smirked at the man.

"Call them off, or I'll make sure you stay here another night."

Daria paled. "You wouldn't."

"I will."

"Amanda, Duncan, leave Adam alone." She heard the Immortal woman's throaty laugh, and paled further. "I'm serious, Amanda. I'm not staying here another night."

Amanda opened her mouth to make a comment, and then shut it again as the object of their discussion walked into the room.

"Grace, it's good to see you. Who's your friend?" Daria looked at the tall blond woman who was already approaching the bed, and unconsciously held Faith closer.

"Daria, Oz, Adam, this is my friend Cheryl. She was going to drop me off, but decided that she wanted to see the baby." Grace shrugged, holding out her hands in an 'I couldn't help it' gesture as her friend stood next the bed.

"Oh, she's so cute. Can I hold her?"

"Time for round three of 'pass the baby'," Oz whispered into his wife's ear. Daria shook her head.

"I just got her settled back to sleep. I don't think we'll be passing her around anymore for a while."

"Oh. Well, she's really cute. Congratulations. Grace, I have a meeting in twenty minutes, so I'm getting out of here. Talk to you soon!" Cheryl waved goodbye to her friend and headed back into the hallway, the assorted mixture of superheroes outside parting to let her through. Grace watched her friend leave and turned to Adam.

"Quick question. Cordelia Chase?"

"Has visions."

"Visions like the Virgin Mary smiling down on her?"

"Visions of people in trouble."

"Huh. That's interesting. Second question: Who are all those people outside?"

Adam shifted his weight, the query making him a little nervous. "Those are some of the teachers and students from Xavier's."

"Xavier's?"

Adam sighed, realizing he would have to give out more information. "Xavier's School for the Gifted. The Osbournes and I teach there." Grace quirked her eyebrow at this information.

"You teach?"

"History." Duncan muttered something to Amanda about that being appropriate. Methos chose to ignore it, instead concentrating on Grace's reaction. "Have you met the others in here?" At Grace's negative response, Adam gave a small smirk. "That's Duncan and Amanda over there, and this is Faith, the baby's godmother." Grace gave a small smile to the others, taking in Faith's appearance.

< If there were any two women who looked less likely to be friends, it would be these two, > she thought to herself. Faith, who had a fair idea of what the woman was thinking, smirked at her friend and stood up, snatching her leather jacket up from the chair.

"Listen Daria, I'm heading back home to get everything set up, see if I have to dust anybody for damages. See ya at the party. Adam, Logan will come after you if you try to keep them here for the night, and he ain't exactly discreet. Maybe you should remember that when you threaten my best friend."

"Party?" Grace decided to ignore the parting comments in favor of the idea of a party.

"Faith's throwing a party at the school. Would you like to come?" < NO! NO! What are you doing, you idiot? > His brain was screaming at him, but before he could backpedal, Grace had nodded in acceptance.

"I'd love to come to a party. Do I need to bring anything?"

"Not really. Faith's got it covered." < Charles is going to kill me. > "Do you want a ride out there?"

"That'd be great. Cheryl dropped me off. Just let me call in and tell them I'm taking the rest of the day off."

"You can do that?"

"We're not working on any pressing cases right now. I just have to shovel through a mound of paperwork, but I can do that anytime." Adam forced a smile at the woman as she left, phone in hand.

"What did I just do?"

"You invited an FBI agent into the home of a collection of an illegal team of mutant superheroes."

"That's what I thought I did." He walked over to a wall and began to methodically beat his head against it.

"It's kind of cute, actually," whispered Amanda to Duncan, who chuckled at the comment.

"Maybe one of us should go tell Jean so that she can prepare the others," suggested Daria. "In the meantime, Adam, can you get me out of here yet?"

_______________________

Grace dug her fingers into the back of the seat in front of her as the van barreled through a red light and zipped around a corner.

"Who's bright idea was it to let Buffy drive?" Grace looked over at the dark-haired young man. She thought his name was Xander, but she'd been introduced to so many people in the past hour that she couldn't begin to remember their names.

"Now that I think about it, Faith suggested it."

The man groaned. "I knew she would get me back for spoiling the surprise."

"Faith wouldn't try to kill you just because you ruined her surprise," said Cordelia as she braced her feet against the door in order to stay upright. "She'll just embarrass you within an inch of your life. What really happened was that she challenged Buffy to a race to see who could get to the mansion first, and since Oz took it upon himself to drive his wife and child home, she's not really worried about upsetting anyone."

"I thought Scott was in that van."

"You think he's going to say something to a woman who is Logan's equal?"

"Good point."

"Buffy, you do realize that there's an FBI agent back here, right?"

"She won't tell. After all, she knows the werewolf thing. If the NCC trust her, so do I."

"NCC?"

"Nauseatingly Cute Couple. They have this tendency to get all cuddly and mushy and cute whenever possible. Which is funny, 'cause when I dated Oz, he was very private about affection."

"You dated Oz?"

"In this group, everyone's dated someone else in the group other than the person that they're with. Xander used to date Cordy."

"Who's living with Trent, Daria's old crush."

"It's usually pretty confusing when anyone new is in the group."

"I can imagine."

_____________________

< The problem with not sleeping is that people feel free to keep you out of bed for as long as they want to. > Daria sighed with relief as the last of the party guests had left the room, having finally deposited her there after she had spent seven solid hours unwrapping baby gifts. When she closed her eyes, all she saw was that mountain of pastel paper. Oz had been roped into taking Faith Elizabeth around for show and tell, something that she could tell he enjoyed. Only two days old, and the baby showed the beginnings of being the definitive daddy's girl. Sighing, the new mother headed into the bathroom to take a shower. She could still feel the smell of hospital clinging to her hair and skin.

Oz was stretched out on the bed when she emerged, his daughter face down on his chest. They were both fast asleep. Daria smiled at the two of them and curled up next to her husband, watching the both of them.

__________________

The missing heartbeat was what woke him up. Oz cracked open one eye at a time to look for his wife. Her scent was still fresh, as was the baby's, but neither one of them were in the two rooms. He sat up slowly, noticing that he was still wearing the clothing from the day before. At least he'd taken off his boots. Staggering into the bathroom, the man splashed his face with water before beginning a search for his missing wife. His nose lead him up to the roof of the mansion, a spot infamous among the X-Men for several reasons. She was sitting on the ledge that ran along the outer wall of the newer sections. A pot of tea sending off steam into the cold autumn air was resting beside her, and two mugs sat next to the pot. She had been expecting him. Oz approached the woman slowly, and she opened up the large, thick blanket in an unspoken invitation. The two sat in silence, curled up beneath the blanket as they watched the sun rise.

"Happy belated anniversary, Oz."

"Happy belated anniversary, love."

"I'm beginning to think that the 22nd of October has an excitement clause attached to it. We have yet to share an uneventful one."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." After a kiss, they climbed off of the ledge and headed back into the house.

"Your anniversary present is sitting in Faith's closet."

"Yours is in here." He tapped his head, and she looked at him questioningly. "It's a song. I wrote it down too, but it's better from here."

"Well, that fits well with your present."

"What did you get me?"

"Some new toys."

____________________

Broots blocked out the noise of the small crowd that had gathered around. Adam had taken Grace down to the training room; she was in the mood to spar with someone and he was the most likely candidate. This was a golden opportunity to use his skills to begin the breaking down of the Centre's computer system. The redhead named Willow was sitting next to him, watching in awed silence as he slipped through the firewalls that he had helped build. Before anything else would be attempted, all the data on the backup mainframe would be copied. After that had been accomplished, the real fun would begin.

Jarod and Lillian were at a computer next to him, going through some of the more recent Centre files as they were copied over. "That's interesting," she murmured, scanning the document a second time. "Oh no." The woman turned from the screen and buried her face in Jarod's chest.

"What's wrong?"

The pretender stroked his girlfriend's hair, his face slightly grim. "They've been having a rash of deaths lately. Asian women, with their throats torn out and drained of blood."

"Lyle's a vampire?"

"Looks like that."

Broots shivered as he turned back to his hacking. "Was he worse before or after?"

______________________

Grace dropped the last of the case files onto her desk and checked her watch. Adam was going to pick her up for the party in five minutes, which gave her just enough time to run to the bathroom to do the 'girly thing' that she had succumbed to. The one that involved a hairbrush and the torture device known as a mascara wand. As she opened up her desk drawer to retrieve the items, Eric strode over and stood so that he blocked her exit.

"Grace, I need someone to do some work on this case tonight."

"Not tonight, Eric. I have a date." She moved past him, beauty aids in hand, and headed toward the restroom.

"You? Have a date?" Eric followed her, stopping at the door as she went inside. "With who?"

"None of your damn business." Grace ran the brush through her hair and cautiously began to apply mascara.

"I think it is my business if it affects your work, Grace. You've cut out early for the past two days."

"Who are you, my personal secretary?" Grace emerged and went back to her desk, quickly checking the time again.

"C'mon, Grace, we've been friends for five years. Just tell me."

"We're friends, Eric?" Grace snorted and picked up her bag. "It's time to leave. I am leaving."

"Please, Grace?"

"Fine." She continued to stalk toward the elevators as Eric trailed behind. "His name is Adam."

"And how did you meet this guy?"

< He patched up a werewolf while I delivered a baby. > "He was the guy who talked me through when I delivered the baby a few days ago."

"What does he do?"

"What are you, my father? Lay off." She walked through the elevator doors as they opened. Eric walked in behind her, and she groaned. "Just drop it, Eric!"

"What does he do?"

"You're starting to sound like a parrot, you know that? He's a history teacher at Xavier's School for the Gifted, alright?"

"You're going on a date with a history teacher? Oh, that'll be exciting. You ready for an evening of touring museums?"

"Eric, if you don't back off I'll have them haul in your rear for sexual harassment. Got it?" She stepped out of the elevator the instant the doors opened into the lobby.

"I just want to ask you a few more questions."

"Save it. My ride is here." Grace climbed into the passenger's seat of the car before Adam could get out to open her door.

"Rough day?"

"Eric's getting on my nerves. He wanted me to stay and work on the case tonight. I told him tough."

"You've got a new case?"

"Serial killer. Stalks Asian women, tortures them, and eventually kills them. It's taken a really bizarre turn lately; they've managed to link this case to a similar one, but in the other case the women had their throats torn out and were drained of blood." Adam nodded, the pieces clicking together as she laid them out. He'd have to talk to Jarod about this information.

_________________

Bobby sat on the roof of the house opposite the Lane-Kent establishment, courtesy of Ororo. < I can't believe I'm missing a weeklong party to play guard for some reporter. > There had been a slight amount of excitement for their team when a group of sweepers had attempted to infiltrate the house, but that had been dealt with quickly, and now it was back to standing watch. He was bored, he was hungry, and he just bet that Hank had forgotten to tape South Park for him.

"What are you doing out here?" The voice behind him was firm, but quiet. Bobby turned around quickly. To his credit, he did not lose his balance and fall off of the roof. Standing before him was the man in blue, the Guardian of Metropolis, Superman. It was a sight that gave even the Iceman pause before he decided that honesty was the best policy.

"I'm watching Lois Lane's house."

"May I ask why?"

"Ask away." Bobby grinned, but his grin faded when the superhero folded his arms across his chest. "I'm guarding it from assassins."

"Assassins?"

"From the Centre. Ms. Lane is investigating the Centre, and they don't like being investigated. Their usual method is a team of elite assassins who take care of these things as quietly as possible. We're not going to let that happen."

"We?"

"The X-Men." Bobby smiled thankfully when Scott came around the corner. < He's the leader, let him answer the big, intimidating man who resembles Ymmit. >

"I've heard about you. You're a team of mutant terrorists. Am I supposed to believe you're only here to guard?"

"It is true." Ororo gracefully stepped out of the shadows. "I would not believe everything you hear about us. Rmember that false stories are also told of you."

"I'm Ms. Lane's protector. She does not need any other." Bobby had been watching the giant intently, and he had seen a flicker of recognition in Superman's eyes when the former goddess had floated into the scene. For once in his life the pieces clicked together at exactly the right time.

"You're Clark Kent."

"Excuse me?"

"You're Clark Kent. I've been watching this house for two months as Iceman, and working with Clark Kent and Lois Lane for the same time. Clever idea for a disguise, actually."

"What are you talking about, Bobby?" Scott looked at the younger man in irritation.

"No one looks for Superman's secret identity because he doesn't wear a mask. He has nothing to hide. Clark cultivates two entirely different personas, and as long as he doesn't get the two of them mixed up, he's safe."

"Robert is correct." Ororo looked at the man with admiration. "This explains the reading that Bishop received in August." Scott's face darkened.

"He already had it figured it out when he saw me, Scott, so maybe you should just keep the lecture to yourself." Bobby looked over at Ororo. "Can we get down off this roof now? Our job just got a lot easier."

_____________________

"Scott, please tell me you're joking." Daria settled Faith Elizabeth more comfortably in her arms and readjusted the telephone.

"No, I'm not. We're bringing Lane and Kent over right now. We should get home within an hour. How's the party going?"

"Starting to wind down, thankfully. The California guests are the only out of towners left. Oh, and Adam invited a pre-Immortal FBI agent over. Seems she's investigating a serial killer who specializes in Asian women. He gave her a heartbeat monitor that looks like a necklace. I think he likes her."

"Thanks for letting me know. What are you doing answering the phone, anyway?"

"Everyone else is asleep."

"It's eight in the morning!"

"Exactly. If you're coming back today, tomorrow starts the five am training sessions again. There's only about three people who enjoy them, and you're talking to one of them."

Scott gave a weary sigh. "I'll see you all soon. See if you can try and wake people up before we get there."

"Sure thing, Scott. Miss Jean?"

"Unbearably."

__________________________

"So this is the home of the X-Men?" Lois' eyes were bright with excitement as Scott brought the couple into the mansion. "Clark, think about it!"

"I have been, Lois." The man chuckled softly as he followed Scott into the elevators. "So everyone we met at the banquet has powers."

"Some more flashy than others. We do have someone in particular who wants to meet you, Clark."

"Really? Who?"

"That would be me." Clark turned and stared. The man standing in front of him was one of the few that could claim to be taller than Superman, and boasted a set of large, black-feathered wings that were currently folded behind him. "Ymmit, son of Gladiator and betrothed of Victandra. I am of Kryptonian descent."

The man of steel dropped his jaw.

________________

Lois listened as Jarod and Lillian finished outlining some of the more heinous activities of the Centre. "And you have evidence to back up all of this?"

"Computer records, video data, eyewitness accounts, you name it. We will give it all to you as long as you promise not to bury it. In all honesty, the Centre will never be completely dismantled. The pillars underneath are too strong. But as long as we can bring most of their activities to a halt, we will have accomplished something worthwhile." Lillian sat across from the reporter, a DSA player in her lap.

"You have my word." Lois dug her laptop out of her bag. "Can someone point me to a room where I can be alone? I can write better if I get this all taken care of now."

"No problem. Clark?"

"Someplace where I can watch people while I work."

"The common room should work. No, wait, never mind. That's the undead room right now. Actually, if you want to watch people you should camp outside the Osbourne's door."

"Undead room?"

"Yeah, we have three visiting vampires from California. That room is completely internal, so they don't have to worry about any accidental sunbeams. Anyway, the Osbournes just had a baby, the reason for most of these visitors, and people have been in and out of there all week, which of course drives Daria nuts. She's somewhat solitary usually. Anyway, if you want to watch people that would be the place to set up. Lois, I'll take you to a quiet room, then show Clark the spot I'm talking about."

____________

Alfred picked up the antique telephone. "Wayne residence."

"Good morning Alfred, this is Daria Osbourne."

"Mrs. Osbourne, how delightful to hear from you. And congratulations on your new family."

"Thank you Alfred and thank Mr. Wayne for the diapers and the lovely collector's porcelain doll. I assume that represents your exquisite taste. I called for a specific reason, though."

"How may we be of service?"

"Last month Victandra sent Mr. Wayne an e-mail. We would like to activate the contents of that e-mail as soon as possible."

"Very good madam. You shall receive a special edition of the Gotham Gossip early tomorrow morning." Alfred turned around and stepped into a smirking Batman.

"Tomorrow morning Alfred? Isn't that rushing it a bit?"

"I have every confidence in your abilities sir."

"She got on your good side quickly."

"She liked the doll."

"And gave you full credit."

"Of course, Master Bruce."

The great Batman sighed, "I suppose that this means that I cannot coerce Fredric Jerkins as Batman."

"No sir. What time shall I bring the limo around front for your meeting?"

"Eight o'clock sharp."

"Very good sir. Is there any thing else?"

"No, Alfred. You seem to have everything under control."

"Of course, Master Bruce. Your breakfast is waiting for you in the reading room."

"Now, if only I understood why this is such a great practical joke."

________________

When Fredric Jerkins returned to the Gotham Gossip after his breakfast, he was surprised to see a limo waiting out front of the offices. As he hurried by, he recognized the stately figure of Bruce Wayne's butler. He hit the office doors almost at a run.

"Celia, get a photographer outside, NOW!"

"S-s-sir, M-m-Mr. Wayne is waiting in your office."

"Get a camera out there, now."

"Going."

Fredric slowed down and took several deep breaths. He needed to be calm; this meeting could make or break the Gossip. "Mr. Wayne, and what do I owe for this pleasant surprise." The wealthy Bruce Wayne was perched on Fredric's desk, idly leafing through the proposed articles. He did not speak but held up a ten thousand dollar bill. Fredric Jerkins took a deep breath.

"I'm listening."

Bruce Wayne held up a manila envelope. Fredric reached for it. He read the contents, confused.

"I'm impressed with the writing and the articles and such but I do not understand."

"Think of it as my personal April Fool's joke."

"But it's not April." < Fool, Fool. > Fredric mentally hit his head. < Wayne can have April Fool's Day any time he pleases. >

The millionaire gave a patronizing smile. "I'll expect 50 copies at my gate very early tomorrow morning."

"But Mr. Wayne, we only print the truth . . ." Fredric's voice faded as Bruce Wayne held up another ten thousand dollar bill.

"Then you may print a disclaimer in the paper, if you wish."

"Fifty copies - tomorrow morning, Sir."

"Good-bye."

"But, Mr. Wayne while you are here perhaps you wouldn't mind answering a few questions for the Gossip?" Fredric Jerkins chased Bruce Wayne out of the office. The millionaire didn't say another word until he reached the limo.

"To the office, Alfred, I'm running a little late."

"Very good, Sir."

"But Mr. Wayne . . ."

As Alfred steered the classic car away from the curve he muttered, "Such vulgarity."

"Alfred, please call Mrs. Osbourne and tell her the package will be ready for pick up."

"You're not going to deliver it sir?"

"The e-mail expressly stated the parameters of my participation."

"But Sir, I promised that dear woman that she would be receiving the package. Would you have me break my word?"

"Very well Alfred. I will deliver the papers, maybe then I will be given the answers I want."

___________

Victandra, as her normal panther shape, raised her head. She heard the high-pitched whine of an advanced engine and grinned. She ran to Ymmit's room and jumped on his bed, waking him. She smoothly morphed into her human form.

"What the -----? Victandra, am I dreaming?" Ymmit grinned and started to pull his betrothed closer. She shrugged away.

"Bruce is here with the practical joke. Time to be a Newsie."

Ymmit muttered under his breath. "Knew it was too good to be true."

"Hey Stud, get moving." Ymmit's head jerked up. She had never called him that before. He hurried to get dressed and followed the panther to the docking bay. Victandra, now in human form, was already listening to the Batman and leafing through the stack he handed her.

"You are welcome to stay Bruce."

"Will I find out why this is so funny?"

"Yes," she turned to Ymmit, "Ready?"

He nodded and grabbed the stack of papers held out to him and the list of addresses he was traveling to. Victandra put a newspaper delivery bag around her neck and grinned at him. He grabbed her shoulders and kissed her hard. "See you in a couple of hours, love."

"You've been hanging out with Oz and Daria too much. Meet me at that one place in the Grand Canyon and I'll hitch a ride home. Bye." With that she was a graceful eagle taking flight.

"It still amazes me."

"No kidding, and I'm marrying her. Thanks Bruce, see you soon." Ymmit glanced once in the direction of Victandra and flew to the dark western sky.

______________

Angel woke to loud laughter. He glanced at the clock and scowled. "Cordy! I'm trying to sleep here!"

"Sorry Angel." The door to his bedroom burst open, "but you just have to read this before you back to sleep."

"What's so funny?"

"Read this."

"The Gotham Gossip?"

"Just read it, Broodboy."

" 'Five Thousand Year Old Man Expecting Child'?"

"It arrived with the paper"

"Oh?"

"One of our friends from West Chester I assume." Wesley commented as he appeared at Angel's door with his own copy.

"Adam is going to throw a fit."

"Duhh!"

"'Celia, that's nice, can we go back to bed now?"

"You go right ahead but I'm not coming. I gotta get on the phone."

_____________

Buffy groaned as she heard the ringing. She blindly waved her arm around until she found her alarm clock and threw it against the wall. The stupid thing didn't stop. She raised her eyes and looked at the month old clock. It was in at least a dozen pieces. Then she realized that it was the phone.

"Hellmouth had better be opening."

"Buffy, this is Cordy. Have you gotten your paper yet?"

"You're calling about the news?"

"You'll forgive me once you see the news."

"We don't get the same news."

"Duhh. But anyways, we do when it is delivered from West Chester."

"This had better be good."

"Get off your butt and out of your bed and go see."

Buffy carried the phone out to the porch. "I guess I should be grateful you didn't send one of those mental screams."

"I'm trying to cut back since the party. Trent says he still has a headache from it. Have you found it yet?"

"Since when do we get the 'Gotham Gossip'?"

"Since Daria and Vic decided to put Adam on the front page."

"WHAT?!"

"I just got off the phone with Jean."

"Adam's gonna freak when he sees this."

"That's the beauty of it. Read the article."

Buffy scanned the article quickly. "Cordy, remind me to never get on either one's bad side."

Cordelia snorted. "Like you'd listen to me."

"Listen, I'm going to go wake up Sarah."

"I need to call around, wake the others up."

"Anya might call down the wrath of some ancient evil on your head."

"If I have to be up, so does everyone else." Buffy replaced the telephone and turned to the vampire next to her. He was still asleep.

"Spike, wake up." She placed a kiss on his lips, and he responded instantly. After a few moments of this, she pulled away. "We'll do this part later. First off, read this." She handed him the paper, and Spike began laughing as he read the headline.

"Daria and Vic?"

"None other."

"Boy, I'd like to see his reaction when he finds out."

"You and me both." She curled up next to him and they read the article, periodically breaking out into laughter.

_____________

Joe yawned and turned on the coffee pot. While it was brewing, he walked out to his front door for the newspaper. In addition to the newspaper was . . .

"The Gotham Gossip? What is this?" After reading the headlines and glancing at the pictures that showed a ballooned Adam at various angles, he laughed. And laughed so hard that he started crying. He calmed down some to read the article. And then started laughing some more. He reached for the phone and called a very familiar number. Duncan picked up the phone on the fourth ring.

"This had better be good."

"Go get your morning paper and call me back."

"Like I said this had better be good."

"Your namesake made the front page."

"What?!"

"Call me when you stopped laughing." Joe snickered some more and then called the Xavier Mansion.

"Xavier's School for the Gifted. And Daria and Vic pulled the practical joke."

"Thanks Jubilee, that's what I wanted to know. Can I use them to threaten Adam the next time he drinks me out of business, or. . ? "

"Or just general Old Man obnoxiousness? I'll ask them."

"Thanks Jubilee and thank Daria and Miss Neramani for me. By the way how did Adam take it?"

"Doesn't know yet. We hid all the copies."

"So the whole household is laughing behind his back."

"Yep."

"I want the video tape of when Adam finds out for the Watchers."

"No problem. 'Nother call coming through."

"Thank you again and I'll be in touch."

"Bye."

"Good Bye."

Jubilee hung up the phone and then picked it up again, "Xavier's School for the Gifted. And Daria and Vic pulled the practical joke."

"Never knew my sister had it in her."

"Miss M, then you don't know your sister."

"Pretty cool, how's Adam taking it?"

"Doesn't know yet."

"I want a copy of the video, for Watcher purposes of course."

"That's what Joe said."

"Blackmail?"

"That works.

"Gotta go, thanks Jubilee."

"Bye."

_______________________

Gus woke up as the first rays of the sun began to trickle through the motel room window. < Where are we again? > He glanced at the telephone book on the nightstand next to the bed. < Right, Kansas. > Closing his eyes and curling up next to his wife, he prepared to go back to sleep, only to be interrupted by a pounding at the door.

"We're paid up, go away," he said, causing Lissie to stir and wake up.

"What's going on?" A second round of the pounding told her what she needed to know. "You paid up, right?"

"One time I forget, and I never hear the last of it. Yes, we're paid up." As the pounding continued, his wife rolled her eyes and got out of bed, grabbing a bathrobe in one hand and her sword in the other. She made sure the chain lock was in place, and eased the door open to reveal an empty balcony. Well, if you didn't count the tabloid tucked against the doorframe.

"The 'Gotham Gossip'?" Lissie pulled the paper inside the door, shutting it firmly. She put her sword down by the bed and sat down next to Gus, opening the paper to the front page. "Oh, this is too good," she said, beginning to laugh. "Gus, you have to read this." She passed the paper into his hands and leaned against him, reading over his shoulder. Gus chuckled as he glanced through the pictures.

"So that's why they wanted us to check in."

"Who?"

"Daria. I'd bet my sword that she had a hand in this."

"Maybe we can still catch the fallout if we leave now."

_______________________

"This had better be good."

"Go get your morning paper and call me back."

"Like I said this had better be good."

"Your namesake made the front page."

"What?!"

"Call me when you stopped laughing." At Joe's cryptic remark, Duncan hung up. He walked to the door and picked up the Seacouver Daily and the Gotham Gossip.

"Amanda! Did you order some more junk under my name?"

"It shouldn't have arrived yet, why?"

"The Gotham Gossip?"

"No, I have better taste than that, Darling." But by this time Duncan had started laughing. Amanda tried to look over his shoulder to find the source of the humor but the tabloid was shaking too hard. She snatched the paper out of his hands and started to laugh.

"Who did this?"

"Methos is in West Chester right now."

"Which female did he get on the wrong side of?"

"It doesn't have to be a woman."

"Trust me Darling, something this bad? It's always a woman."

"I'll call Xavier to find out whom."

"I get your credit card for two hours and you as my pack elephant if I'm right."

"You'll return that new jewelry from England to the proper owners."

"Done. But I call the mansion."

Jubilee answered on the second ring. "Xavier's School for the Gifted. And Daria and Vic pulled the practical joke."

"Thank you Jubilee. Bye. Well Duncan, shopping time." Duncan groaned.

__________________

Grace absently fingered the necklace that Adam had given her. It had a gold cross pendant, about an inch long, and fit closely about her neck. She hadn't been able to attend the rest of the party because of this case, and for the first time was annoyed by her job. Eric had assigned her to stakeout the supposed hideout of their serial killer. After three days of surveillance, she could faithfully report that absolutely nothing had happened. If this was where the guy lived, he hadn't been home yet.

< I wonder how Adam's doing? > She hadn't been able to check her phone messages or e-mails, another happy little bonus of this task that she blamed on Eric. When she had talked to Daria just before the stakeout had begun, the other woman had sounded a little mysterious when she urged her to keep in contact. She was interrupted from her musings when a car started down the long gravel driveway. A tall, lean man got out of the vehicle.

"Agent Matthews, suspect is sighted entering the residence at 2250." Grace spoke into the radio as she lifted her binoculars. "He's helping a female out of the house. Female is approximately five feet tall, Asian in appearance. Requesting backup."

"Negative, Hart. Continue surveillance."

"Eric, if this is the serial killer, she's one of his victims. We should attempt interference."

"Grace, stay in the car."

"I can't do that, Eric." Grace turned off her radio and grabbed her gun. As she crept stealthily towards the house, she mentally berated herself for what would most likely cost her career. This time, it wouldn't matter if she did save the victim and bag the killer. Disobeying orders from a superior resulted in probation. Two probations resulted in suspension, three probations got you removed from the force, and this would be probation number three.

It should have tipped her off when the door was open. Typically, when you are preparing to commit pre-meditated murder you lock the door to keep away interruption. Unless you happen to be extremely confident in your ability to overcome said interruption. The man stood in the hallway, his face buried in the woman's neck. He looked up from his task when Grace opened the door, and she was instantly reminded of the three vampires she had met a few days ago. She doubted that this card-carrying member of the undead would boast the same scruples.

"Well, you're not my type, but you do remind me of my dear sis, so you should do for dessert." Lyle dropped the corpse of the woman to the floor and began walking toward her in a calm, measured way. Even as her mind was screaming that her actions would be pointless, she raised her gun and fired the entire clip into him. This slowed him down for a moment as he looked down at the holes that had been torn through his expensive suit. "I did like this suit, you know. I really don't appreciate you ruining it."

Grace attempted to fight back with whatever came to her mind, but without a wooden, pointy weapon such fighting was pointless. Lyle hissed when his hand came in contact with the cross, but then smiled. "Always did go for a little pain with my pleasure."

The sharp pain of teeth being inserted in her neck was followed quickly by a cold numbness as the blood left her body. Her last thought, as the darkness came over her, was that she should think of something clever and meaningful to say for her parting words.

________________________________

Adam waited patiently in the morgue for Grace to wake up. She did not disappoint. The gasping for breath was followed shortly after by a scream that she muffled against her hand.

"Yes, you're in the morgue. No, you're not a vampire. Yes, there is an explanation. Here are your clothes, change into them so we can get somewhere for said explanation." Adam handed the woman her clothing and turned around, proud that he had finally managed to get that speech down to under five sentences. Heaven knows he had said it often enough. His reverie was interrupted when Grace whacked him in the back of the head.

"Did you peek while I was naked under that sheet?"

"I did not. I don't look at dead naked people, just living ones."

"Just so we're clear."

_____________________

"So I'm Immortal."

"Yes."

"And you're Immortal."

"That's right."

"And you're over five thousand years old?"

"Mm-hmm."

Grace began to laugh. "Man, talk about robbing the cradle!"

Adam's face darkened. "Don't mention cradles right now."

"Is the talk over now?" Daria poked her head into the room. "The rest of us would like to use the kitchen, if that's alright with you."

"That talk is over, mavoureen."

"Good." Daria lead the troop of people inside. Grace's eyes widened at the sight of Kurt, and widened further at the sight of Ymmit's wings.

"Start explaining, Mr. 'I'm Five-Thousand-Years-Old.'"

As Adam began to introduce the individual X-Men to the agent, Daria leaned back against the counter, Faith Elizabeth in her arms. Oz was talking to both the Professor and Sydney about Angelo's treatment. Lillian and Jarod were sitting at the table, Samuel in between them. Emily was standing next to Kurt, watching him shyly as he demonstrated his technique for chopping vegetables. Logan and Faith had stayed at the edges of the gathering, and from the thoughts she was picking up from the Slayer they would leave in a minute for someplace less crowded. Ymmit was on the sidelines as well, watching as Victandra was introduced in first the panther form, then the human form. < This sure is one crazy family, > she thought, brushing her fingers across her sleeping daughter's head. < But it is my family. >

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