Author's Note: This is a direct sequel to "Closer," and it has some violence, innuendo, and a touch of language. I'm going to rate it R, just to be safe. Read at your own risk. Oh yeah, and this is Kaylee's fault. As usual. I guess this just goes to show that there *is* life after fic, however painful it may be...

Ah, shower. Shower good. Shower friend.

Dawn stepped into the hot stream and reached for the shampoo. It was six AM, and she'd just gotten finished feeding and changing Skye. Now she was too awake to go back to sleep, and not awake enough to do anything serious. So she showered.

Lather, rinse, repeat... ow. Lather, rinse, clean the conditioner out of my eyes, repeat...

But she smiled through the soap, even so. It had been a long night, but a good one. It had been good to get matters out in the open, among other things.

She smirked slightly. Especially the other things.

Dawn finished her shower and toweled off, rubbing her long particolored hair vigorously. It had decided to forgo its usual bangs today, so it took her a few minutes to locate the part. She wrapped the towel around her head, slipped into her robe, and padded out of the bathroom. The hardwood floors were cold beneath her bare feet, but she barely noticed. She had warmer things on her mind.

Dawn slipped into her room and grinned. Glenn was sprawled across the bed, covers half-spilling onto the floor. He was snoring lightly, one arm resting on his bare chest, the other flung across the empty spot beside him. She walked over and poked him in the ribs.

"Up," she said. Glenn grunted and rolled over. Dawn rolled her eyes.

"Get up," she said. "I know it's early, but I just had to tend to the baby. And if *I* can get up at six in the morning, so you can you."

Glenn rolled over, cracked an eyelid--then snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her down onto the bed with him.

"I'm not getting up," he said, closing his eyes and kissing her on the forehead, "so come back to bed and let's call it even."

"I'm soaking wet," Dawn protested, pushing herself away. Then she reviewed her phrasing and cringed. "Make a pun on that and *die,* Glenn."

"Me? Never." He smiled gently and slipped his fingers under the towel that covered her head, pulling it away. Her blue and white hair spilled around her shoulders, damp and heavy from the shower. Dawn retaliated by tossing her head forward, letting the wet mass take Glenn full in the face. Glenn, whose eyes were still closed, yelped and sat up.

"Told you," Dawn snickered, pushing her hair back again. "Serves you right. Gimme the towel."

Glenn made a face, but did as he was told. Dawn draped the cloth around her shoulders and ruffled his hair with her hands. After a moment she sighed and sat back down on the edge of the bed, leaning back against his chest.

"I thought you wanted me to get up," he said, although he didn't sound all that plaintive. He circled his arms around her robed waist and exhaled slowly.

"Oh, I did. I just didn't want *me* to get up. I think I'm going to stay here. It's comfortable."

"Now I've been demoted from love slave to pillow?"

"Don't volunteer for the position of love slave if you don't mean it." She reached back and patted him on the head. "Ten to one Tapestry flips over this."

"Does it matter?"

"Not really, but it'd be nice to have a Writer who *wasn't* in a coma."

"Well, she's left us alone for years. She shouldn't be surprised."

"So basically you're saying she deserves what she gets."

"Exactly. And at any rate, we're happy." He paused, and Dawn could hear the unspoken question lingering in the air: Aren't we?

"Yes," she said, twisting around to plant a kiss on his cheek, "we are."

He hugged her closer and said nothing. Dawn stroked his bare arm with one hand, closing her eyes. She still felt uncertainty from him about last night. He'd known who he was with then, and so had felt free to let himself go. The question was, who was with him now? The friend, the fiance, or the wife?

Dawn shifted in his arms, turning to face him. For a moment she stroked his cheek absently, then kissed him soundly on the lips.

Definitely the wife.

"Don't tell me *you're* having second thoughts," Dawn said, pulling away. Glenn cleared his throat.

"You don't want to know what kind of thoughts I'm having right now," he said, smiling wryly. Dawn grinned.

"Oh, I think I can guess," she replied, nuzzling his cheek. Then she climbed off his lap and stretched.

"Hey..." Glenn began plaintively. Dawn flashed him a quick smile.

"I said I could guess," she informed him, tapping him on the nose. "Not that I would comply. Now get up. I've got to make breakfast."

Her companion grimaced. "You are a cruel, cruel woman, Dawn," he complained, sighing. Dawn nodded cheerfully, removing the towel from her shoulders and drying off her hair.

"Yep," she replied, moving towards the closet. "Now, get out. I've got to get dressed."

"Why? It's not like it's nothing I haven't seen before--"

"And it's nothing you'll ever see again if you don't get out, so move."

Glenn grumbled, but climbed out of bed. He took a moment to search for his absent jeans and shirt, which turned out to be buried under the sheets. "Are you making breakfast or am I?"

"Depends. Do you want an actual meal or cereal?"

"Okay, so it's me. Want me to make enough for two?"

She thought for a moment, then shook her head. "Psychosomatically digesting food takes a lot of work," Dawn replied, "and we have a reservation at Chez Batroc tonight. Better not."

"Right." He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. "See you in a bit, luv."

Dawn smiled gently. "You bet," she replied, stroking his cheek. "Maybe after we drop off Skye we can find an inventive way to kill time."

Glenn laughed, and blushed despite himself. Dawn smirked and pecked him on the cheek, finishing off with another hair-ruff.

"I'm leaving before you make your teasing any more hands on," he said, pushing away. "This isn't fair. Not fair at all."

Dawn snickered. "If it makes you feel any better, you can consider it a preview."

Glenn smiled wryly. "Oh, that's helping."

"Isn't it? Now shoo." He finally did so, leaving Dawn to get dressed. She smiled after him, stopped, tried to squash it, failed, and gave up.

Great, one night with him and I become a complete dip. I can't wait to see what the rest of my life is like...

And yet she was unable to shake the feeling of exhilaration, of happiness. Already the night's events had assumed an almost dream-like quality of surrealness, but she was comforted by the knowledge that there would definitely be a repeat performance. It hadn't just been the physical activity, it had been the emotional aspect as well; after so many months of fumbling, they had finally connected.

Dawn didn't think it had been solely due to the telepathy, although that had definitely been an aspect--those few precious moments of speech had revealed worlds more than a lifetime of mindlinks ever could. If you were mindlinked you eliminated uncertainty--to a point. The mind was cluttered with thousands of thoughts an instant, from subliminally noticing the temperature of the room to distinguishing what might be said from what should be said.

She had known she loved Glenn from almost the moment she had met him, albeit in a different way, but somehow she had never been able to express it verbally. The feeling had been there, of course--sometimes so close to the surface that her chest ached with the pressure of those unsaid words--but her nerve had failed her, shortly followed by her tongue. There was something horribly noncommital about never saying something as simple as "I love you" aloud. All the psychic rapports in the world wouldn't fix the pain of knowing your lover couldn't even commit themselves to the relationship by giving it verbal acknowledgment.

Words were never "just" words, she realized as she ran her hands through her damp hair. Words might mask the truth, but they were also a window to it. Saying things you felt--really felt--made them real, stripped away all pretense and ambiguity. That's what had been needed last night, and that was what had happened.

Dawn closed her eyes and hugged herself, feeling a bit lightheaded. Committed--that was the word she was looking for. She was committed now. There had been a kind of safety in not knowing, but now she knew there was an even greater safety in certainty. The mercurial effects of Subreality pulled at her still, but now she had something to cling to. With this new sense of purpose she was already finding it easier to control her continuity fluxes.

An anchor. He said he'd anchor me, if I needed him... and I think I do. I really do.

Of course, the deal was two-sided. For many years Dawn had been aware that Glenn, in some odd way, depended on her for emotional stability. She figured it had something to do with the loss of his parents, coupled with the classic problems that accompanied the switching of continents. Even though he hadn't needed to work he'd held down a few jobs, mostly in the area of moving and other types of physical labor. When Dawn had asked him why he'd just shrugged and said "I need something to do". Still, it didn't take her long to begin suspecting that he really did it for the companionship. Although generally a loner, Glenn got along well with people. He was quiet, polite, listened well, and tended not to argue much. These were traits that brought him far in the world of casual socialization, but few in-depth friendships. No one wanted to hear the problems of their confidant.

So we end up with a weird system of co-dependency, and not a lot of self-confidence, Dawn thought, pulling a shirt off its hanger. Come to think of it, this really didn't start off as a very healthy relationship.

The young mutant dressed slowly, keeping her thoughts quiet. Glenn didn't need to hear them. Not now that everything was finally going right.

Okay, so it didn't start out entirely healthy. But that doesn't mean it's not *becoming* healthy. We're helping each other...

Which was true. Dawn knew her self-confidence had gone up since she'd made friends with Glenn, and was fairly sure his had done the same. Besides, how could something that made them feel this good be dangerous? She was probably over-thinking things. Besides, they'd have plenty of time to work things out.

Well, probably.

Almost certainly.

Except our Writer's going to...

...

But this is Subreality. Things are completely different here. Aren't they?

Shaking her head, she reached out with her mind, brushing Glenn's consciousness with psychic fingers. She sensed his feeling of question-ness and sent him a soft smile.

:Everything's fine,: she reassured him as she felt him pause in the midst of readying a skillet for sausages. :I just felt like saying hi.:

:You said "hi" five minutes ago. You sure you're okay?:

:Don't fuss. I'm fine. Just making sure you're still gonna be there when I get down. That kind of thing.:

Glenn laughed silently. :Of course I will. Where am I going to go between now and then?:

Dawn sighed. :Promise?:

"I hope she wasn't too much trouble," Ember said, bouncing the happily burbling Skye against her hip. "I'm sorry you got stuck with her..."

"It's okay, we love watching her," Dawn grinned, shifting her grip on the diaper bag. "Really, she's no trouble. I used to babysit, so I know a good kid when I see one."

Her alterself pecked Skye on the forehead and mussed her downy brown hair. The baby giggled and grabbed her mother's nose as a thin thread of drool inching down her cheek. Ember smiled and dabbed it dry with the edge of her blankie.

"Well, I know you two were traveling," she continued. She seemed mildly embarrassed "I didn't want to be any trouble. I just needed a day off."

"We understand," Dawn said, and for a moment a silent understanding passed between the two. The two girls smiled the same smile at one another. True, the one was a little older and had more of a wry twist to the lips, but it was, in essence, the same. After all, what more could you expect from cross-dimensional doubles?

"Anyway, we'd better get going," Dawn said, transferring the diaper bag to Ember and curling an arm around Glenn's biceps. "We've got dinner reservations, and it would probably be a good idea to make sure we have something to wear."

"Mm hm," Ember said, her mouth giving an odd little quirk. For a moment there was another, somewhat more risque look between the two women, and Glenn began radiating embarrassment like a small sun.

:You know, it seems horrendously unfair that you should sleep with someone before me,: Ember sent, flicking a sly glance towards Glenn. She nuzzled Skye with her nose. :You know, me being the mother and all that.:

:Hey, you had your chance,: Dawn grinned, pulling closer to Glenn. :I think Scrambler's still pining for you.:

Ember covered her face with one hand. :Oh God, don't remind me. And he's the *good* one. I found shurikens in my doorframe the other day, and I know Arclight's been trying to track me down. I'm going to go stay with Mr. Cassidy tonight until the SCPD can find them--I have a restraining order, and they're not honoring it.:

:Oh, geez...:

"Can you two speak aloud, please?" Glenn interjected. "It makes me uncomfortable when I can't hear what you're talking about.:

"Sorry," Dawn apologized, shaking her head. "Girl talk, y'know. We'll try not to do it again."

"Actually, I had better get moving," Ember said, looking down at Skye. "My ride'll be here in an hour, and I need to get some things together." She grinned. "You two have a nice day now."

"Oh, we will," Dawn replied, much to Glenn's chagrin. She patted him on the head and smiled brightly at Ember. "Isn't he cute?"

"Yeah," her double smirked. "It almost makes me wish I had one."

"That's it, I'm going home," Glenn said, stepping back. "If I want to be abused I'll go and tell Jubilee about last night. Good bye."

:You'd better go get him,: Ember sent as Glenn rose into the air and took off. :Sensitive, isn't he?:

:You have no idea,: Dawn replied. She paused. :That wasn't supposed to be a joke, by the way.:

:I didn't think so.: Ember made shoo-ing motions towards the younger version of herself. :Go chase your man. I'll be fine.:

:Right. I'll see you later.: Dawn spread her wings and rose after him. Damn, overstepped myself. Again. Way to screw up a relationship on the first day, Dawn.

:Okay,: she sent as she caught up to Glenn, eyes fixed resolutely on the landscape below them, :what did I do?: Glenn hadn't slowed down for her. She would have been able to tell he was angry even if she hadn't been psychically linked to him.

:I don't like it when you talk about me like that,: he replied at last. :I was raised to think some things are private affairs. I would prefer our personal life not come up in everyday conversation.:

"Whoa, hang on there," Dawn said as she finally paced him. "Ember and I were teasing a little, yeah, but mostly each other. No details came up. They aren't her business."

Glenn sighed. "You say that, but... it just seemed different from the outside, all right? I can't tell when you both go telepathic, and, as you always remind me, you're like sisters. I just sort of assumed..."

"Don't assume," Dawn interrupted. "That's how you screwed up last time, remember? Oh, okay, it was also my fault for lying to you, but I was stupid. Hell, I was thirteen and dying, but it still took two people to fight."

Glenn stopped flying. Dawn, unable to hover, had to be content to circle him while he organized his thoughts.

Yeah, this definitely looks like it's going to be our first official fight as a couple.

Glenn exhaled shakily, and Dawn tensed.

"We do not..." he finally forced through gritted teeth, "want to get into that argument again. You lied. I was angry. We can pick that scab another day."

"Agreed," Dawn replied, relieved. "But we'd better finish up picking this one, because I don't think either of us is going to enjoy dinner much if we're not talking to one another."

"Right." He didn't look happy about it, though. Dawn didn't blame him.

"Look, I'm sorry I joked with Ember," she said at last. "If it bothers you that much, I'll stop. It's just... she's me, you know? It's hard to keep things from her. If it helps, the conversation wasn't totally about you."

"That helps... a little, I guess," Glenn sighed. "No more talking about me as if I'm a piece of meat though, understand? My last girl was like that, and I don't want to have that problem with you."

"I promise," she grinned. "And no more stupid mind games, either, okay? On my part, I mean. I suck at them, and they just make everyone miserable in the meantime. For empaths, what goes around really *is* what comes around."

"I appreciate it," Glenn said, finally cracking a wry smile. "And I'll try not to assume."

"Good. Let's see how this works out, then." Dawn flitted closer and kissed him hard. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and retracted her wings.

"Now that we've made up," she said, batting her eyes, "can you carry me home?"

Glenn rolled his eyes. "Oh no, I'm not being used. Not at all."

"Don't worry," Dawn said, half-teasing as she snuggling against his chest, "you know I can go on by myself if you can't make it."

"Yeah," Glenn replied, kissing her softly on the forehead, "I know."

"Is that the Leaper?"

"Well, it *is* his restaurant."

"Yeah, but... a purple and orange tux?"

"They're contrasting colors. It works."

"Hey, the artist thing is really starting to pay off. You actually sound like you know what you're talking about." Dawn reached across the table and mussed his hair.

"Actually, I learned that one in primary school," Glenn smiled wanly as he prodded his chicken. At least, he assumed there was chicken beneath the sauce and mushrooms. Somewhere. He glanced up. "How's your meal?"

"Okay, I guess," she replied, eyeing her steak. "But probably not suitable for what they're charging us. Oh well, beggars can't be choosers."

Dawn did have to give Chez Batroc credit--the atmosphere was definitely romantic. Maybe a little too romantic. The lights were so low they could barely see one another, and Glenn had almost lit his menu on fire while straining to read the curling print by the light of the single candle. A violinist was playing in one corner, sounding lost and alone while the pianist and flutist who normally accompanied him took a break. There was red wine in their glasses, but neither of them were touching it. Glenn had no alcohol tolerance, and Dawn didn't like the taste. They drank water.

"Who recommended this place?" Glenn asked, finally braving the entree and cutting off a small piece from the chicken-shaped mound. He tasted it like a whip-wielding archaeologist sipping from the Holy Grail.

"Verney, actually," she answered, and picked up the piece of bread that had been sitting by her elbow for the past fifteen minutes. She bit into it, and had to work on it for a while before the crust would disintegrate enough to allow her to swallow. "Maybe it's an Algerian thing. Still, it's not that bad, and we needed the night out."

To dress up, if nothing else, she added mentally. She was wearing a tight black dress that flared below the waist, and Glenn was in a suit. Dawn hadn't even known he *had* a suit. She'd thought his wardrobe consisted solely of t-shirts and turtlenecks. She'd never even seen him wear a sweater, for God's sake.

Still, she had to admit that they both cleaned up well. She'd forced herself to spend more than five seconds combing out her hair and had managed to twist it into something resembling a coif, and Glenn had slicked back his normally shaggy hair. Neither of their unruly bangs had withstood the wrath of viciously applied hair spray.

And to think, I still refuse to wear heels because they're too "girly".

"Anyway," Dawn said, finishing her bread, "are you at least happy we're back among the land of the living? No pun intended."

"Yes," Glenn replied, fishing around for one of the stray mushrooms. "You worry me when you get introspective and antisocial. I'm the only one allowed to do that."

"You wish, Angst Boy," Dawn snorted. "You know, a lot of us used to wonder how you and Jono could be on the same team without creating some sort of rift in reality."

"I'm not *that* bad!"

"Are too. You have 'moods.'"

"Then I blame you. You're the only thing that gives me angst these days."

"Hey, thanks. Now I feel all special."

"Don't mention it."

"Right, well, we'd better finish dinner. The waiter is starting to give us dirty lo--hey!"

"Excuse *me*."

Dawn pulled her elbow out of her dinner and turned, frowning. Someone had just bumped into her back. Hard. Being thus distracted, she failed to notice the color draining from Glenn's face.

"Okay, but next time watch where... you're..." Dawn trailed off as her eyes found the offending party.

It was Arclight. And she didn't look sorry at all.

"You're one tough little bitch to track down, you know that?" Arclight said, her voice low and even. She was wearing a silk shirt, black slacks, and a cold smile. Dawn swallowed.

"Sorry, I think you've mistaken me for someone else," she said, in tones that were only slightly choked. "I'm not Emb--"

"Oh, we don't care," Arclight said. "One of you is as good as the other after what we've been through." Dawn heard the rustle of cloth against the table. There, with his hands clasped firmly on Glenn's shoulders, was Scalphunter. He was wearing a slightly rumpled suit and, for the first time in recent memory, had nicely combed hair.

It suddenly occurred to her that Arclight and Scalphunter had been on a date.

"Er," she said, and for a moment she had to fight the suicidal urge to laugh. Her problem was solved by a glint of silver from the vicinity of Glenn's neck.

"Now," Arclight said calmly, "we're going to go outside, and if you try anything inconsiderate, like signaling for help, your limey boytoy gets it. Understood?"

"Understood."

"Good. Now get up slowly, pay for dinner, and we'll settle this outside."

"Why not here?"

"Because Batroc knows where we live, and he'll bill us. Now pay."

"Glenn has the money."

"Fine. Scalphunter, ease up. But only just."

Silently, Glenn withdrew his wallet and payed out the approximate amount. His eyes met Dawn's, and she shook her head slightly. There was nothing they could do while they held a knife to his throat, and even now Dawn was loath to bring other people into their own difficulties. They would solve this themselves.

But if this pair is from Fading Embers they're well-trained, and right now I don't have a lot of raw power. Damn it, I'm not a brawler, and Glenn isn't invulnerable. They're taking us outside to execute us.

Slowly, the two of them stood up. Scalphunter took his hands away from Glenn's neck, but moved them down to the vicinity of his back. Another flash confirmed it; Glenn's jugular was safe, but not his kidneys.

"Now go explain to the maitre'd that something's come up, and you're leaving," Arclight said, giving Dawn a not-so-gentle shove. "And remember, no signaling, or lover-boy's healing factor gets put to the test."