“Jazz didn’t want to come with us?” Connor asked Emmy.

They were on their way into town to take in a movie. As soon as they were out of sight of the chateau, and presumably Michael and Nikita, Connor slung an arm around Faith’s waist. It didn’t make walking all that comfortable for either of them, considering how far they needed to go on foot, but they wouldn’t have it any other way.

Emmy pulled on the end of her long thick ponytail. Her hair was so curly, it was difficult to control when she was outside. That was why she couldn’t wear it loose until they arrived at the cinema. “No, he, um, had some reading to do.”

Chris regarded Emmy with a curiously Michael-like stare. “Jazz? Are we talking about the same person? Jazz would rather read a book than go to a movie?”

“I think…things haven’t been all that easy for him and Adam.”

If Emmy hadn’t been watching, she might have missed the imperceptible twitch of muscle in Chris’ cheek. God, he was so much like his father sometimes.

“I wondered when you’d mention *him*.”

“Tosh, what do you have against Adam? Besides the fact that he exists?”

Chris shifted restlessly under her scrutiny. “I don’t *hate* him or anything. It’s just—well, Jazz was *our* friend first, and now he won’t even go out with us in case Adam shows up.”

Faith studied her twin brother with uncharacteristic calm. “But Adam didn’t come either. Maybe Jazz wanted to stay behind so he could talk to him.”

Chris snapped back, “I don’t think he wants to *talk* to him, Fee.”

Faith whistled. “Well, jeez, don’t take it out on me.” Pause. “I don’t see why it concerns you anyway. You’ve always been okay with Jazz being gay. I bet if he wanted anyone else, it wouldn’t bug you this much. But it does. Cause it’s Adam. Right?”

Chris looked at her blankly, and Faith tore a strip out of his hide. “Don’t pull that crap on *me*, Chris! Just cause Dad does it doesn’t make it right! In fact, Dad prolly wishes he *could* show what he feels.”

“Okay, I’m worried!” Chris shouted back at her, clapping his hands over his mouth in disbelief. He couldn’t imagine what made him blurt out what he was thinking.

“About Jazz? Or Adam?”

Chris stopped walking and kicked at the dirt road with the already scuffed toe of his shoe. “Adam’s hurting Jazz,” he finally said in a low voice.

Emmy nodded, her ponytail bobbing back and forth. “But he can’t help it, Chris. The only alternative is to hurt your Dad. Would that make things better?”

“He’s older. He could have anyone he wanted. Why’d he have to pick on Jazz?”

Faith piped up, unconsciously shrugging off Connor’s arm as she moved closer to her brother. “Oh, come on, Chris. You’re not that dumb. He’s not picking on Jazz. He’s in love with him.”

“But they’re making each other unhappy. How is that love, Fee?”

Faith blinked. “Sometimes that’s what happens, Chris. It doesn’t mean they don’t love each other.” Hesitant to do anything to shake Chris’ near-inviolate opinion of their father, she added, “Look at how Mom and Dad were.”

“That was a long time ago, Fee.”

“Yeah, I know. But look at how great they are together now.” Faith, for all her bravado and impulsiveness, was capable of true insight. “What if they’d given up on each other? Cutting out when things get bad isn’t love, Chris. That’s fear. *You* wouldn’t do it. Why should Adam?”

Chris shook his head slightly, a dawning suspicion taking root in his brain. “You’re on his side, aren’t you?”

“Whose? Adam’s? I’m for anyone who makes Jazz happy, and when he’s not acting like a total jerk, Adam *is* the one.”

He felt Emmy’s presence more strongly than before. Without turning his head, he knew she approached. Emmy stood behind Chris and carefully wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She was almost as tall as he was, which made it possible for her to lean forward and press her lips chastely to the back of his neck.

Chris grasped Emmy’s hand and brought it to his cheek. “What do you think? You’re the one who spoke directly to Jazz.”

“I think we should let them work it out themselves. But if they run into trouble, we’ll all be there for them. *Both* of them.”

Connor sighed happily as Faith pulled his arm around her waist again. “I second that.”

“Me, too,” agreed Faith.

Chris smiled, a rare smile that reached his light blue eyes. “So be it,” he intoned, sounding for all the world like the knight he aspired to be.

They had the theatre almost to themselves. Few people ventured into the village to attend Saturday matinees during the height of the summer. There were other places to go. The coast was a short drive if one preferred beaches. The mountains were even closer.

Faith liked the darkened cinema, its old-fashioned wood paneling glowing before the lights went down. Granted the seats were worn and somewhat threadbare, but furniture was *not* the reason she loved the old theatre.

“What’s playing?” Connor asked.

“Something from last year,” Chris said, fishing a couple of bills out of his wallet to pay for his and Emmy’s tickets.

“Who cares?” laughed Faith. She didn’t know what movie they were going to see, and if anyone asked her, she would admit that it hardly mattered. What mattered was the back row of the cinema.

With so few people in the theatre, the four teenagers had a privacy that simply did not exist at home. Even in a home as large as the chateau, even as scattered as the family was throughout its three floors and the surrounding grounds, there was little privacy. Not for romantic liaisons.

If Michael knew, he would undoubtedly put a stop to it. But even the once-fabled Man in Black couldn’t forestall time and the growing up of his children.

Emmy placed her slender fingers on Chris’ wrist, temporarily preventing him from paying the cashier. With a frown, Chris said, “Soleil, I told you. I’m paying for this.”

“I have money, Tosh.”

"I know you do. But I can’t let you pay your own way.”

“Why not? This isn’t a date.”

Chris looked at her in surprise, his blue eyes widening. “It’s not?”

Emmy shook her head. “No, Tosh. If this was a date, Da and Daddy would have to hear all about it when we got home.”

Chris smiled, his mood sunny again. “You’re still my girl, though.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact. Unalterable like the weather.

“Of course.” Emmy opened her fanny pack and withdrew a couple of bills. “I’ll pay for my own ticket. But you can get the popcorn.”

“With lots of butter, right?” Emmy loved butter. Real butter. And the old cinema was probably one of the last bastions of genuine butter around.

She nodded. She’d never told Chris just *why* she loved butter so much. She wasn’t sure that he should know just how much power he really had over her. But the truth was that she loved the way he tasted when he kissed her, his lips all smeared with the delicious stuff. Sometimes she would lick her own lips, and once or twice, she’d caught Chris staring at her mouth with a decidedly sultry gaze.

*****

Faith tapped Connor on the shoulder. He turned to face her and gave her a questioning look.

“You *are* paying for my ticket, right?”

“Why? Did you spend your allowance?” Connor congratulated himself on managing to sound completely cool and unaffected by Faith’s proximity.

“Noooo…” she drawled. “But you *are* taking me out.”

“Out as in a date?”

Faith smiled saucily, her vividly-colored eyes more green than grey right now. “Yes.”

“You heard Emmy. This isn’t a date.”

“Don’t be like this, Con. This is so a date.”

“Nah. We don’t need a date—“ Connor lowered his voice to a whisper. “—we’re, what’s that word?”

“Hand-fasted,” offered Emmy helpfully.

“Right. Hand-fasted.”

Faith glared briefly at Emmy, who stuck out her tongue at her friend, before fixing her gaze upon Connor again. “Fine. Then if this isn’t a date,” she whispered to him, “I guess you won’t expect me to kiss you when we sit in the back row.”

Connor’s dark blue eyes glittered with something vaguely dangerous. It was almost as if he were tired of being tested over and over again. Sometimes, he thought, Faith deserved a smack on her bottom, if only to get her attention directed to where it belonged.

“I wouldn’t want you to do *anything* that put you out in any way, Fee,” he said with a slight edge to his voice.

Faith frowned uncertainly. That last exchange hadn’t gone exactly the way she’d planned. She didn’t want to give up kissing Connor. She *liked* kissing Connor.

Off-balance, Faith was in the unenviable position of having to choose between sticking to her guns or enjoying Connor’s kisses. As far as she was concerned, it was no contest.

“Um…I really don’t *mind* kissing you, Con,” she whispered, trying not to blush or think about her brother hearing her reluctant admission.

“That’s nice.” How Connor managed to sound non-committal when all he wanted to do was kiss the stuffing out of her was beyond him.

“It’s…um…more than nice, actually.”

“How nice?” he asked, trying not to think about how much was at stake.

“Why don’t I show you?” Ignoring the others, she leaned forward and kissed Connor full on the mouth.

He swallowed the breath he’d been holding and hoped she wouldn’t notice. God, he loved her. Even when she was being the most irritating young girl on the planet.

“You still thinking you might not kiss me, Con?” she whispered, her face so pure and so innocent of guile that she might have been someone else entirely.

“Oh, no,” he couldn’t help but answer honestly, “I think if I couldn’t kiss you, I’d die.”

For once, Faith didn’t jump to exploit that weakness, that vulnerability in Connor, and this time she knew why. She felt the same way.

"I love you,” she murmured, suddenly not caring if the others overheard.

“I know,” he said, gathering her declaration to him like it was his one hope of salvation.

As long as she loved him, he could do anything.

Sey finished throwing a clean pair of jeans into one of Sasha’s backpacks and zipped it shut. He could feel his son’s eyes staring a hole through him. With a lengthy sigh, he turned and faced the fourteen-year old.

“Sasha, just say the word and I’ll take you with me.”

“I wish you didn’t have to go at all, Dad,” the young man said quietly.

“We talked about this, remember? I’m only taking carryon because I’m flying in and out. I just have to straighten out something at the bookstore and I’ll be back before you know it, kiddo.”

“I know,” Sasha whispered.

It was hard for Sey to see his son in any kind of pain. Rampant hormones were making him more emotional than usual, and Sasha was not handling the idea of even minor separation well.

“Come with me, Sash,” he urged the teenager. “The change of scenery might do you good.”

“I can’t run away from me, Dad.”

Sey blinked and hefted the backpack over his shoulder. “Jeez, you sound just like Dec. I’m glad you’re able to learn from your mistakes, kiddo, but beating up on yourself isn’t going to help.”

“Nobody else would’ve done what I did.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I just—“ Sasha bit his lip to keep from giving in to the overwhelming sadness that swept over him, but his efforts were in vain. The moment he looked into his father’s dark brown eyes, he was lost. Sey pulled him into a fierce embrace, the backpack falling to the floor with a soft thud.

“I wish you weren’t going away, Daddy,” Sasha said, his voice ruined by incipient tears. He buried his face in Sey’s chest, his slim frame shuddering with emotions that threatened to spiral out of his control.

“Oh, kiddo,” Sey murmured. He couldn’t leave him home. Not like this. It was never easy for Sey to travel alone. He was used to leaning on Dec. Maybe too used to it. But he couldn’t abandon Sasha to whatever emotional storm was ravaging him now.

It wasn’t that Dec couldn’t handle things perfectly well. He could. But Sasha wanted *Sey*, and dammit, Sey wanted to be there for him. If he were totally honest with himself, there was a part of him that liked being needed this way.

He wasn’t invisible. Not anymore. Not ever.

“Hey.” Sasha sniffled and swiped a hand across his eyes. Sey pushed his son’s long thick hair back from his face, his fingers lingering lovingly. “I want you to go in the bathroom, wash your face, and come back here. You’re coming with me, kiddo.”

“But—“

“No buts. I have to go. Otherwise, I’d stay here with you. But I don’t have to leave you behind, and I won’t,” Sey said firmly.

“But I’m not packed. I don’t have a ticket. I—“

Sey smiled. “Let me take care of that. It’s about time you and me had an adventure of our own, kiddo.”

“Just you and me?” Sasha asked hopefully.

“Just you and me.”

The way Sasha hurried into the bathroom left no doubt in Sey’s mind that he was making the right decision. Dec would understand. Dec always understood.

*****

Dec offered to drive father and son to the airport, but Sey wisely declined, instinctively realizing that this was his chance to bond with Sasha. “We’ll get a cab, Dec. It’s okay.”

“Part of the fun, Da,” Sasha added, some color finally beginning to return to his cheeks.

“Ummm…” Sey muttered under his breath, not knowing exactly how to tell Sasha that he wanted to say goodbye to Declan without an audience.

Sasha nodded, a bright smile creasing his handsome features. “I’ll go take the backpacks down to the gate.”

Sey glanced at his son, wondering how he managed to be so perceptive at such a young age. After Sasha was out of sight, Sey melted against Declan, his body automatically reacting to his lover’s proximity. “I’m going to miss you,” he said, running his thumb across Declan’s lower lip.

“Not half as much as I’ll miss you, acushla.” Declan bent his head and claimed Sey’s mouth, his hands tangling in his hair possessively.

“It’s going to feel funny sleeping alone in our bed.”

“Aye, well, don’t enjoy it too much, leannan. I dunno if I can sleep at all without you.”

“Aw, poor baby,” Sey said, a light of mischief glinting in his dark eyes.

“Brat,” Declan returned, kissing him again. “You’d better go.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

*****

When they arrived at the airport, Sey quickly found the appropriate gate and obtained their boarding passes. He checked his watch. “We’ve got fifteen minutes till boarding, Sash. You want to grab a snack to take with you?”

“Sure,” Sasha agreed.

Sey took his backpack from him and settled down in a seat outside the gate. “I’ll wait here.”

Sasha pored over a bunch of magazines while pretending to select a candy bar. He touched the cover of an adult magazine, only to hear an unfamiliar voice say, “Ah-ah-ah. Don’t even think about it, son. You’re not old enough to read the jokes, much less look at the pictures.”

Sasha flinched, retrieving his errant fingers, only to turn to face the source of the voice. “Do I know you?”

“Nope. But I know you.”

Some portion of Sasha’s brain kicked into hyperdrive, sending his senses churning. “Who are you?”

The stranger’s vivid blue eyes twinkled. “Your father ever tell you not to talk to strangers?”

“You talked to me first. Who the hell are you?” With that, Sasha backed up, suddenly glad that the man running the newsstand seemed to be watching both of them avidly.

“Just a friend. With some friendly advice.”

“About what?”

“Well, now, that’s a real long story, to be sure, kid. But I got a feeling you won’t be going anywhere any time soon anyway.”

Alarmed, Sasha cast his eyes around, seeking his father. They weren’t that far away from the gate. But he knew how fast someone, the right someone, could make another someone, the unlucky someone, disappear.

“Does my father know you?”

“He might think he does, at that.” If anything, the stranger’s smile grew wider, his teeth so white, they sparkled.

“I’ll call for help,” Sasha said in a low voice. “My father’ll hear, and he’ll beat the crap out of you.”

The stranger threw back his head and laughed. “You think so? I think he’ll take one look at me and do what he’s always done. Run. He’s not much for confrontation, your father.”

“What do you want with me?” Sasha whispered.

“I’m going to let you go, kid. But I’ve got a message for your father. Ask him if the name Fanning means anything to him.”

The vendor behind the counter finally moved. “Hey, you! What are you, a chickenhawk? Move it or lose it, buddy! I’m calling Security right now!”

The stranger smiled patiently, as if he were accustomed to such reactions, before addressing Sasha. “You remember what I said, kid. Fanning. Tell your father.”

He was gone before Sasha could say a word. The vendor approached Sasha slowly. “You okay, kid? You’re kinda pale.”

“I-I have to find my father.”

“Sure. You want some help?” The man picked up his cell phone, but when he looked up again, Sasha had disappeared.

*****

“Daddy! Daddy! We can’t get on the plane!” Sasha burst out excitedly, provoking more than a few irritated looks from other passengers.

“Sasha, what’s wrong?”

“There was this man, and he came up to me at the newsstand, and he said—“

Sey turned the color of parchment. “Did he hurt you? What happened?”

“I’m trying to tell you, Daddy. Lis-ten! He acted like he was real nice, only he wasn’t. He kept smiling with all his teeth showing, and I was so scared, Dad, but he didn’t touch me or anything, I swear.”

“What did he say?”

“He said he knew you. He said to ask you if the name Fanning meant anything to you. Does it, Daddy? Does it?”

“Jesus.”

*****

They didn’t get on the plane. Sey tried calling Declan at the chateau, but the phone was busy. One of the disadvantages of having several teenagers in residence, he supposed, forgetting that Emmy had gone with Connor and the twins to the village.

With something other than his love life to focus on, Sasha recovered quickly. His father’s reaction to the name Fanning worried him a little, but he had every confidence in Declan and Michael protecting the family from whatever threat the stranger posed.

As they sped towards the chateau in a rental car, Sey handed his cell phone to Sasha. “Keep calling till you get through, kiddo. If Declan doesn’t answer, try Michael’s number. Somebody has to be home.”

“Maybe they’re outside,” Sasha suggested helpfully.

“Maybe,” Sey said, but it was clear that he didn’t believe that for a moment.

*****

“Titanic? Jeesh, what a sappy story this is,” Connor moaned, peeking through his fingers at the screen. He received a thump on the arm from Faith. Despite her decidedly unsentimental leanings, she hid the heart of a true romantic deep inside, and though she would rather die than admit it to Connor, she was enjoying the story immensely.

“Shut up,” Faith hissed.

“It’s a good thing we’re alone back here. You guys are making enough noise to get us thrown out.”

“Chris! I’m trying to watch this!”

Connor chuckled. “I don’t believe it. You like it.”

“Shut up!”

“You do!” he said in total amazement.

Chris said something in French to Faith. While it went over Connor’s head, its meaning was not lost on Emmy, who giggled as politely as she could. “Leave Fee alone,” she said softly.

Faith shot her best friend a grateful look before fixing her eyes back on the screen.

Connor groaned and sank down in his seat. There went his hopes of actually getting a kiss or two from Faith. She was more interested in watching the movie than making out.

“Now…where were we?” Emmy asked Chris.

“Right here, I think.” Chris found his beloved’s mouth easily, even in the darkness, and he kissed her tenderly.

She smiled against his mouth, her elegantly shaped fingers finding the hair at his nape.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“You. Me. All of us. Fee and Con argue cause they like each other. It’s what they do. But I’m glad I’m me and you’re you.”

“Oh? What do we do?”

“This.” And she kissed him back. When her tongue touched his lips, he didn’t know what to make of it at first. It wasn’t the way they usually kissed. But it definitely sent a shiver of anticipation through Chris’ adolescent body.

“Um…what are you doing?” he whispered, vaguely concerned that they were doing something…wrong.

“Licking the butter off your lips. What did you think?” Emmy sounded surprised. Chris couldn’t quite make out her expression in the dim light, but he trusted her. Of course, she was licking the butter off. She *loved* butter.

Oh, Chris, Emmy thought, you are *so* easy.

When she kissed him again, he broke away gently, leaning his forehead on hers. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather watch the movie, Soleil?”

Are you crazy? She swallowed a tiny bubble of laughter and enjoyed the feel of his skin on hers. God, she loved him so much. She would gladly pass up a dozen movies if it meant that she could be in his arms like this.

“No, I’m good.”

“You’re better than good, Soleil. Je t’aime. Je t’aime beaucoup,” he whispered to Emmy in French.

She wished she could see his eyes. His eyes were so beautiful, so loving. She became so preoccupied with this thought, she lapsed into English without realizing it. “Oh, me, too.”

Chris wrapped his arms around her neck and sighed contentedly. He was completely comfortable holding her, and he knew that she felt the same. They were two halves of the same whole. Like his mother and father. They might have come from different places, but they belonged to each other now.

“Hello?”

Walter didn’t hear anyone at first. There was a lot of noise in the background. It sounded like a mixture of traffic and…Sasha? Was that Sasha yelling excitedly?

He heard rustling as if the receiver was being passed to someone else. Suddenly Sey’s voice, hard and desperate, pierced through the ambient sound. “Walter? Is that you?”

“Hey, amigo. I thought you were headed for the airport—“ Walter began in his distinctive whiskey-and-smoke flavored voice.

“Dad!”

That one word stopped Walter cold. When Sey first discovered that Walter was his father, Walter had been terribly afraid of losing the younger man’s friendship. But Seymour Birkoff was one of a kind. He loved Walter with all his heart. Finding out that their relationship was biological as well was just the icing on the cake.

“What is it, son?”

“You have to find Michael. You have to tell him.” The connection started to break up, and Walter could hear Sey cursing in frustration.

“Tell him what? Seymour! Are you still there?”

The cell phone’s last transmission was garbled, but Walter managed to make out several words that scared the hell out of him.

“…on…way back…airport…after Sasha…maybe…kids…said he was…Fanning.”

He didn’t think twice. There was no way Sey would call in such a state if it weren’t true. He needed to find Michael. Right now.

*****

Walter found him lying in a hammock with his wife, one long, well-muscled leg touching the ground, keeping the hammock gently swaying back and forth. Nikita was asleep, her body completely relaxed and curled against Michael’s.

He hated to disturb them, but he had no choice. With a sigh, he related the gist of the phone call.

“That’s what he said?” Michael asked softly.

“Yes. He said it was Fanning.”

Nikita stirred at the sound of the name and yawned expansively. “Fanning’s dead,” she said, peering at her adopted father sleepily.

Michael turned to Nikita, the only visible sign of concern a marked tightening of his lips. “What if he isn’t?”

Nikita came more fully awake. Whether she was reading Michael’s body language or something more subtle in his tone, she quickly responded. “Who was he after?”

“Sasha.” At Nikita’s sharp intake of breath, he continued on, “Sey seemed to think he might go after the rest of the kids.”

“Why? How—“

“Kita, we can’t afford not to take this seriously,” said Michael, cautiously getting out of the hammock. Once he was standing, he offered his wife a hand. She put her hand in his and stood.

“The kids! The twins went into town with Connor and Emmy, Michael.”

“Walter, you round up the kids here at the chateau. I’m heading into town to pick up the others.”

“I’m coming with you, Michael,” Nikita said, raking a hand carelessly through her long, loose blonde hair.

“No, doucette. Fanning knows how much you hate him. You make too good a target.”

“I promise to stay out of the way, Michael. I’ll do anything you say. I swear.”

Without warning, Michael wrapped his arms around Nikita, only to bury his face against her hair moments later. “I need to know you’re safe, Kita. Please.”

She nodded silently, and he reluctantly released her. Brushing a hand across her cheek, he whispered, “I love you, doucette.”

She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the mouth. “Come back to me, Michael. I mean it.” Nikita gave him a meaningful look, one of loving exasperation that said I-know-you-can’t-change-but-please-don’t-get-yourself-killed.

“I’ll bring the kids back, Kita.”

“I know you will,” she said with a calmness she couldn’t feel inside.

*****

As soon as Michael left, Walter went into action with a speed that belied his “old bones” as he was wont to call them. “Sugar, I’m going to start inside the chateau. Why don’t you check the grounds and the gatehouse?”

“All right, but that’s a lot to cover. Why don’t I use the cell phone? That way, if Birkoff tries to call us back, he won’t get a busy signal.”

“Done.”

Nikita started to turn away, only to stop with a suddenness that tore at Walter’s heart. “Dad? I hope my babies are all safe and scarfing down ice cream right at this very minute.”

“Me, too, Sugar. Me, too.”

*****

Michael drove like the Gates of Hell had opened wide behind him. They’d grown complacent. They’d considered themselves safe and secure and virtually untouchable.

This was his worst nightmare.

He said a little prayer as he pointed the Jeep in the direction of town. “Please, God, don’t take my children. They’re worth a hundred, a thousand of me. If you must take someone, take *me* instead.”

But God showed no signs of listening to the heartfelt words of sinners he had forgotten about long, long ago.