See Chapter One (Part A) For Disclaimers

"Excuse me, ladies."  Derek Rayne's rich accent cut smoothly in to whatever else the gossip was about to say.  "I don't believe we have been introduced.  I'm Derek Rayne."  

"Chandra Thorn, Mr. Rayne."  Immediately turning on the charm, she held her hand out to him.  "I don't believe we've met."

Derek took her hand, bending over the knuckles galliantly.  "Indeed we haven't.  I would have remembered.  Speaking of which, if memory serves me, Miss St. John, I do believe you owe me a dance."

"Of course, Dr. Rayne," Moira replied vaguely, fully realizing that he had offered her a way out of the situation without making a scene.  Taking his arm, Moira let him steer her toward the dance floor.  "Nice talking to you, Chandra."

"See you in the papers, Moira."

He nodded politely at the columnist.  "Madam."

Once on the floor, Derek slid one hand around her waist, the other hand holding hers as the danced.

"Coming to my rescue again?" Moira looked up at him, accepting his light support.  Now that the heat of the moment was over, her knees felt a little weak.  She hated confrontations.  Sensei was right; they always brought out the worst in a person.

She knew they brought out the worst in her.

"Well. . .  It looked as if you could use some help.  Are you upset?"

"No. . ."  The early anger was gone, replaced by vague amusement as she noticed the look he was giving her; wary and unsure.  She dredged up a smile for him.  "Thanks, Derek.  I owe you one."

"Let's call it even.  After all, in your eyes, I still owe you from the other day."  At her startled look, he chuckled.  "Surprised?  I'm not so hidebound that I cannot apologize on the rare occasion I'm wrong."  The dance had ended and another begun, but as Miss Thorn was still waiting for their return, Derek unconsciously matched his hold to the new, slower music.  After what he had heard, he was not willing to send anyone back into that woman's clutches.

As they moved to the music, Moira leaned into him, no longer caring that he had interfered with the verbal battle.  Moira's mind wearily running through all the possible ramifications of the encounter with the columnist, Derek's embrace didn't register, except subconsciously in the warm feel of his hands on her back.

While intellectually she had known about the rumors making the rounds about her, she had yet to actually confront them.  Now she had and the reality of the situation worried her.

"Derek. . ."

"Let me guess, you're worried about the rumors?"  At her preoccupied nod -- after her conversation with Mrs. Kelly and Derek's subsequent apology, she was past the point of being surprised -- he continued.  "What about them?"

She hesitated.  "Are you sure you want the Foundation dragged into them?  I know I asked you that before. . ."

"But you were not aware of their magnitude at that point."  She nodded again.  "I was.  Rest assured," he told her, "that I meant what I said.  Then and now.  I would like to think that you have found a home with us at the Legacy.  We're a family, Moira.  And as Nick will tell you, I protect what's mine."

The song ended and they applauded the band.  Not knowing what to say to that, she was saved by Senator Kelly calling for his guest's attention.

"Please.  Please, may I have your attention."  The noise died down and their host began to speak.  "Ladies and Gentlemen, as you know I have called you all here tonight in order to share with you a plea on the behalf of Governor Marshall who is, at this very moment, at the White House in Washington D.C., lobbying for the state of California.  We have worked long and hard this term in order to get some very important legislation passed, legislation vital to the growth and continued safety of the citizens of San Francisco, as well as surrounding counties.  While I will not bore you with a long windy speach and lengthy details," the senator smiled broadly, "this is a party after all and I would hate to be thrown out of my own home, I would greatly encourage you all to have a look at the packet that has been prepared for you."

There were smiles at his sally and thoughtful nods around the room at the end of his plea.

Derek reached out and took two glasses of champagne from a roving waiter, handing one to Moira as he did so.

"Thank you.  Now before the band strikes up again, I would like to introduce a good friend of mine from the Luna Foundation who has graciously agreed to be here tonight, Dr. Derek Rayne."  As heads turned in their direction, Derek lifted his glass to Robert in an ironic salute.

"Thank you, Robert.  You are too kind."

// He wants me to introduce you. // Derek sent to her quietly.

// Are you going to? // The one thing she didn't want was this!  If Derek did this to her she would kill him.

Twice.

Derek's mindvoice colored yellow with laughter.  // No.  I don't think so.  Not tonight. //

Hoping she appeared more poised than she felt, Moira smiled outwardly for the speculative gazes they were getting.  // Good. //

As the band struck a romantic tune, Nick appeared at her side before Derek could claim her for another dance.  "Moi, may I have this dance?"

"Of course, Nick.  Derek?"

He shook his head.  "Go.  Have a good time.  It's getting late and I have a few things I must see about before we leave."

"Sure Derek," Nick replied saucily, taking Moira's hand.  "Have fun."

The precept's chin jerked up imperceptively.  "Thank you, Nick.  I will."

"So where is everyone?" Moira asked him curiously, falling into step with him easily as they danced.  "I haven't seen Alex, Rachel or Kat since we arrived.  And that's been hours ago."

"Well, Alex saw someone she knew from college; they've been dancing the whole time just about.  The last I saw Rachel she was heading out to the veranda for some fresh air and as for Kat. . ."  He craned his neck around, searching.  "Ah.  Look over there.  In the corner behind the bushes."

Sure enough, there in the corner was little Katherine, curled up in Phillip's lap, sound asleep.  Moira smiled at the sight of them.  "At the risk of sounding sacriligious, they both look so cute."

Nick smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners.  "Yeah, they do, don't they?"

"So what have you been up to, you scoundrel?" She asked him lightly.  "Busy seducing the businessmen's wives?"

"That's a terrible thing to say, I'm crushed."  Nick pretended dignity before dropping the pretense.  "Actually, I've been busy playing your eyes and ears.  Thought you might need a little recon.  It's amazing what you can manage to overhear at a shindig like this one."

Surprised and greatful, she looked at him.  "Especially if you're listening?"

"Well. . .yeah. . ."

She sighed.  She didn't want to know what they were saying about her but, realizing the more she knew in advance, the better prepared she would be in the long run, Moira asked him anyway.  "And what did you find out?"

"About that jerk Wiseman and his lies?" She nodded.  "Well I'd say between you, Derek and Mrs. Kelly, you've got the rumors just about crushed."

"You're kidding?"

"No, I'm not.  Everytime someone starts to talk about them, either Commissoner Baxter's wife or Mrs. Kelly comes in and gives them a Look and a tongue lashing that would put Duncan to shame."  Moira laughed in disbelief at that and Nick chuckled.  "Even old man Stonebreak would drop and give them fifty rather than go threw one of their sermons.  Remind me not to get on their bad side."

But Moira wasn't listening.  "So instead of bashing what's left of my reputation to shreds, they're handing out the 'poor baby's?  A complete three-sixty?" As much as she would like too, she could hardly believe her luck had made that drastic a change.

"Not all of them," he cautioned her.  "But if I had to guess, I'd say that particular rumor won't last another week before it's dead and buried.  But, yeah. . .after everything they've seen tonight, none of them are operating on blind faith anymore.  You've done it, Moi.  You beat them."

She smiled briefly for him and for the optimism in his voice, but she couldn't help remember Chandra Thorn and the look in the woman's eyes as Derek waltzed her away.

And she couldn't forget Derek's earlier vow, 'I protect what's mine'.

As they danced, those words echoed in her mind the rest of the evening and she couldn't help but feel that by appearing together, she and Derek had inadvertantly created many other rumors.  Rumors potentially more dangerous than the ones they had put to rest.  

 

"Thank you, Duncan.  Good night."

"Good night, Miss Moira."

Handing the butler her wrap to put away, Moira sighed, feeling the strain of the evening lessen with every step she took further into the castle.  Well, she had done it; she had faced the worst and survived.  Smiling and chatting as if without a care in the world had given her stiff cheeks and one migraine of a headache but at least now the worst was over.  I wonder where Hamilton was tonight.  It's not like him to give up such a perfect opportunity to henpeck at me in public.  That bothered her for a second, but then she dismissed both it and him from her mind.

Sorry, but the whereabouts of one limp noodle reporter would have to remain a mystery.  For one, at the moment she was simply too tired to care and for another, she she didn't need to think about a pain in the ass when she already had someone pushing knitting needles through her skull.  Enough of this.  Go to bed.

Walking through the foyer, she had just passed the conference room when she heard Derek's voice call out.

"Moira, may I see you a moment?"

Derek, you're timing sucks, she thought at him.

"I'm sorry, but it won't take long."  Sighing again, Moira cast a longing glance at the staircase.  She thought about trudging into the room but decided she didn't have the energy -- either for the trudging or for dealing with the single raised eyebrow that would meet her arrival.

"Please, have a seat."  She sat, drawing up a chair at the long table as Derek stared out into the night beyond the windows.  Or maybe it was the lights of San Francisco in the distance that held his broding attention.

"Derek, it's late.  Could we do this in the morning?" She spoke feebly, deliberately not pointing out to him that it already was morning.  God, all she wanted was to go to bed; curl up in the soft blankets and collapse for a few hours.  Between the rush of the day and the strain of the party she was running on the dregs and about ready to pass out from sheer exhaustion.

"I'm sorry, Moira, but there are some things a wanted to make you aware of."  Something about the perfect neutrality of his tone told her she was not going to like what he was about to say.  Or maybe it was the way his eyes carefully avoided hers in the glass that caught her wary attention.

"Derek?" Phillip spoke softly from the hallway, Kat still sleeping peacefully in his arMs. " 'M goin' to put Katherine t' bed."

"Are she and Rachel staying on the island tonight?"

"Yes.  And Rachel wanted me to tell you she would see you in th' mornin'."

"Very well; get some sleep, Phillip and I'll see you both in the morning."

Phillip smiled at her and she managed to return it, wishing him a good night as the priest carefully carried the little girl up to her room.  The gaze she turned on the precept was not as light.

"What did you want to see me about, Derek?"

"I merely thought you would like to know the results of tonight's gathering."

"Since I'm not the least bit interested in the governor's proposal -- at least not at three-thirty in the morning -- I assume we are talking about the rumors.  That is the reason you wanted me to attend tonight, wasn't it?"

Derek's smile was self-mocking and sober.  "Quite right.  I didn't realize my motives were so transparent."

"Sorry, " she returned, her shrug interupted by a heavy yawn.  " 'm too tired to be diplomatic."

"Well; after tonight, most will think twice about spreading malicious gossip around you or the Luna Foundation.  I made sure of that."

Alarm ran through her.  What had he done?  "Derek, what did you do?"

"Nothing.  Only made it known that you were a member of this House -- and that any slander or liablous gossip would be met and dealt with by the full resources of the Foundation."

"This House. . .?"  Surely he hadn't mentioned the Legacy?

But Derek only smiled chidingly.  "The Foundation."

Oh.  "I. . .didn't see Hamilton around tonight.  That's not like him. . ."

"I told him not to interfere with tonight's proceedings."

"You what?"  First she was stunned that he would dare. . .then she was angry.

That he would dare.

Forgetting the fact that she hadn't wanted to confront Wiseman to begin with and had, in fact, been relieved when he hadn't shown, Moira simply stared at the precept's hard and implacatable expression.

Derek inclined his head slightly, the stubborn set of his chin the only outward sign telling her he had anticipated this reaction to his decision.  And that he had done it anyway.  "I warned him to stay away from tonight's proceedings."

Amazed, Moira bit back her automatic responce at the sheer gall of this man and that statement.  "And he agreed?"

The chin raised a trifle higher.  "He did."  He wouldn't tell her what he had said to prompt that responce and after taking in the chairman's tight smile and defiant posture, she wasn't sure she wanted to know.  It was a well-known fact that no one tangled with the Luna Foundation and came away unscathed.

Also well-known was the knowledge that the same was doubly true of crossing Dr. Derek Rayne.

But she was unable to hold on to her anger.  In the time it took for her to get upset at his high-handedness, the anger had come and gone; draining out of her like water from a broken glass, leaving only numbness in it's wake.

Suddenly unable to think of anything to say, Moira settled on the first thing that popped into her head.  "Thank you for tonight, Derek."  Her strong voice soft with fatigue and more than a little rueful, but she meant every word she said.

Surprise flitted briefly across his featured and Derek smiled briefly.  She thought he might say something, but when he didn't -- only turned back to the darkness outside the window -- she turned to go.

"Do you love him?"

The sudden low question seemed loud in the silence as the House had settled in for the night.  Startled she gave him the truth.  "I did, once."

There was nothing in his voice to give him away.  "And now?"

"No."  The words reverberated through the room; firm and irrevicable.

"Good."  His smile in the glass was small and almost bitter.  "And Moira?"

Her attention snapped back to the man reflected in the glass.  "You may question my methods but never forget that my main concern is for the safety and well-being of this House and its members.  Remember that."




She was dreaming.

She knew she was dreaming, but her feet continued to carry her down the hall towards stairs without her conscious direction.  Quietly, Moira descended the main staircase to the first floor, only now noticing she still wore her nightgown.  The silk swirled around her ankles as she moved through the foyer to the library located in the den beyond the sitting and piano rooms in the far corner of the House.

There was a flickering of light coming from the open door and she found herself drawn closer to that room.  Not making a sound, she peered inside to see Derek staring into the flames of the fire that was the only illumination in the room.  Dressed all in black, the precept stood by the fire, one foot resting on a short stool, his arms crossed over that knee and a glass of what looked to be sherry dangling loosely from his fingers.  The rich light caressed his face, making a halo of the lighter gray of his hair.

He turned to her, a warm and welcoming smile lit his face, transforming and shining through his eyes.  He spoke only two words, his voice low and melodious in the night.

"Welcome home."

The End

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