Evolution by BJ Jones

Stage Eight – Homo Sanguinis

~ Bethesda Naval Hospital: Washington DC ~


William Lennox sat next to the hospital bed of his one of his closest friends, and stifled a yawn.

He wasn't used to having nothing to do.

Ron Witwicky was resting peacefully though, having come through the first of what was to be many surgeries to repair the damage to his leg, caused by the Mutant Wendigo thing they'd encountered.

General Grant had very creatively worked up the necessary papers to indicate that Ron had been injured on an assignment. Everything had been filed, giving him a Medical Discharge with full benefits to cover treatment, and Doctors had estimated that it would take six months to recover, with at least another six months for physical therapy.

Once Ron was able to move around on a full leg cast, he would be shipped back to Los Angeles, and transferred to a VA Hospital closer to home, but at that exact moment he was looking to stay in DC for at least six weeks.

Mary Ann had taken Judy back to the hotel, so both of them could get some rest. Deanna was with her Uncles Skinner and Mulder, and probably learning how to spin a good cover story about Alien Invasions and Secret Government Cover Ups. When Lennox had called earlier to check on his daughter's day, Mulder was busy telling her about strange bodies that were frozen in the North Pole and gave off nasty virus bugs…

There were days when his life was just that weird.

Will was grateful for his wife getting Judy out of the hospital for a few hours. She hadn't left Ron's side from the moment she'd arrived, and he knew she was tired. She was one of those permanently effervescent types, and yet gradually she'd gotten more and more quiet, and he figured she needed some space. He had sat her down himself, and explained to her that Ron was going to be fine; his leg had been broken in three places, but he was expected to make a full recovery, he just needed to be patient with himself, and give his body chance to adapt.

Of course she'd instantly demanded to know how it happened, and all he'd been able to do was shake his head, and tell her it was classified. Ron had apparently not talked to Judy about Vampires, and he wasn't going to put his friend in that kind of awkward situation. It wasn't something that was easily explained to start with.

Mary Ann had given him a look, but he'd shut down the argument that had been on the brink of coming from her mouth, by pointing out that Judy was too emotional to handle Vampires just at that moment, and it would be better if Ron told her himself.

She had nodded and shrugged, and taken a supporting role, sitting next to her friend and hugging her tight. But he knew there were more important things to worry about.

"I asked her to marry me." Ron's voice pulled Will out of his thoughts. "She said yes."

"Wow! And here I thought Judy had more taste," Lennox teased.

"Screw you." He laughed lightly. "So what am I going to do now?"

William really wasn't sure. He had talked with Grant a few times since the Mutant incident, and it seemed highly likely that at the end of his current tour, he too was going to be sent home. He just wasn't sure how to feel about that. He had no idea what to do with his life, or how to be a husband and father.

It was scary stuff.

"I always wanted to run my own business," Ron continued.

He focused back on his friend. "What kind of business?"

"Not sure. Something small. See how it goes. Stay busy."

William Lennox gave him an easy smile as inspiration suddenly struck him out of nowhere. "I may have an idea."


~ SGC: Stargate Command (Cheyenne Mountain) – Colorado Springs, Colorado ~


Jack O'Neill looked at his inbox, blinked, and read the priority email in front of him for a fifth time.

"Daniel!"

He looked up from his computer to an empty office.

Frowning darkly, he stalked out in search of his Mate.

It had been three years since Daniel was let in on the secret that Jack already knew about Vampires, and soon afterward, Daniel had Turned him.

Two years ago he had ended up running the SGC.

O'Neill was still wondering who exactly had come up with that bright idea.

He was guessing Nicolaus, especially as the wily old Roman had an 'in' with the President.

And it was obvious Nico was evil, and for some reason hated him.

It was the only reason Jack could think of for promoting him, making him sit behind a desk, and do paperwork.

But this…?

Really?

This just took the goddamn trophy!

He was seriously contemplating sending a fruit basket to Sylum Manor and begging for forgiveness.

This was insane.

Ludicrous.

And absolutely would not work!

Ever!!

"DANIEL!!" he bellowed.

"General O'Neill?" Teal'c stepped up to his Commander, the vague semblance of a confused expression on his normally expressionless face. "Is there a reason you are yelling for Daniel?"

"Yeah! We have a situation here, and he needs to be where I can find him!" Jack kept moving down the hallway. "So go find him!"

Military personnel jumped hastily out of his way, as he launched himself through the corridors, hoping to get to the surface before all hell broke loose.

With a last trot down the hallway, thanking God for the knee replacement he'd had before being Turned, he stopped in front of the main bank of elevators that would take him directly to daylight.

"Jack!?" Daniel raced around the corner. "What's going on?"

He had felt his Mate's shock and dismay, while down in one of the research labs.

He had been working with some archeological finds they'd unearthed on one of the planets recently mapped and explored by SG2. Once the small array of assorted objects had been cleaned up, catalogued, and photographed, and attempts were underway at dating them, no one seemed sure what to make of their actual function, until Marty McFly, who had been walking by at the time, stopped to comment on the unique trumpet design they were examining.

Not to kick a gift horse in the mouth, Daniel dragged him into the lab to discuss Musical Theory and Instrument History. Marty normally stayed close by his Mate, who rarely left the labs; so amazed and lost in the scientific discoveries of the SGC he barely knew what day of the week they were on, and needed to be constantly reminded to eat, sleep and generally look up from his work now and then. Jackson hadn't actually given the boy much thought, seeing that he wasn't a scientist, but he knew music alright - the history, instruments, theory and sound.

Since then, he and Marty had been discussing the use of music as expression, in a variety of cultural and religious backgrounds, finding similar patterns from a disparate assortment of other civilizations discovered off-world, building their connections to Earth and its own rich musical life. They were right in the middle of discussing the Renaissance transformation of musical instrument manufacture, when a sharp spike of shock slammed into him.

At which point, Daniel had left Marty in mid-sentence, and run to find his Mate.

Not a lot shocked Jack O'Neill after all.

He caught up with him at the elevators, imagining he was leaving to head somewhere.

"What?" he demanded. "What?"

Jack opened his mouth to answer, when the familiar ding of an arriving car, echoed loudly around them.

Both men turned as the door opened.

Jack just gestured at the man inside, who stood framed by a posse of attentive cohorts. "That," he said simply. "That is what's wrong."

Tony Stark barely glanced at either man as he waltzed past them.

It was Colonel Tracy who gestured for them to follow, while Pepper and Happy kept up with their boss, and a brace of lawyers tagged along behind.

"What is going on here?" Daniel asked, barely keeping step with a huge man who had all the bulk of Teal'c and the authority of a personal bodyguard.

Tony stopped suddenly and turned back around, swiping the glasses from his face, and smiling benignly. "I'm your new boss."

"What?!"

General Jack O'Neill sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "That's what I've been trying to tell you. Tony Stark just bought the SGC from the US Government. I found out about it this morning."

"Can you do that?" Daniel asked, his mind busily trying to process the situation.

"I just did." Tony glanced around the uniformly gray corridor. "First thing is a complete overhaul. What is this stuff?" He reached over and pulled at a junction box, ripping open the lid. "Well that explains how I was able to get into the building and all the way down here with no one stopping me. Hammer Tech? Are you serious?"

Those who knew him best knew he was utterly disgusted, though it barely seemed to register on his face. He did however, wipe his hands with an alcohol swab that Happy produced for him.

"He came in under bid." Jack sighed again. "Most of our own scientists have been replacing it as it breaks."

"Shocking. Really. I am totally stunned." Tony started walking back down the hall, his head held high. "Pepper, let's get Stark Techs in here ASAP. Happy, give Security a giant kick in the balls would you? I feel like I'm in a Three Ring Circus without the sexy acrobats, surrounded by show dogs on roller skates."

They both nodded, and made notes on their respective Stark Pads.

"I want to see the Stargate. After all, I did just fork out billions for it."

Daniel stepped close to his Mate. "I'm not sure if this is good or bad."

"Gentlemen?"

They both startled at an unexpected bark from just behind them, and turned to the two immaculate and expensively suited individuals who had arrived with Tony's party.

"The US Government has just sold the biggest secret outside Vampires, to a Vampire. One who, as a billionaire, can actually fund it, bring in the best scientists, and make a profit here."

"Who are you?" O'Neill asked briskly, not really liking the terribly charming way he was spoken to.

"Harvey Specter, Mr. Stark's Attorney. I helped broker this deal. And this is my colleague, Thomas David McLaughlin."

The other man nodded briskly, hefting his briefcase.

"He's working the Canadian side of this arrangement."

"So it's now private?" Daniel was still having trouble getting his head around it. "What about the military missions, the military itself?" He started to flail, worried for his Mate's career.

"Mr. Stark has always been friends with the military, and despite a few old geezers screaming that they don't get enough weapons anymore, he still has strong connections with the Department of Defense, and while he now owns everything in this operation, he's set up a contract with the US Military to supply personnel, at the discretion of the Commander he will deem fit to put in charge."

"And what do they get in return?" Daniel demanded.

"First dibs on any weapons developed by Stark Industries as a result of findings from the Stargate," Harvey answered simply. "Of course there was a small clause that stated, Stark Industries is not actually required to supply or manufacture any such weapons within a given timeframe. Mr. Stark is of course, far more concerned with humanitarian ventures these days."

"Sneaky." O'Neill glanced over at McLaughlin, whose rigidly coiffed haircut reminded him of some not very nice people in DC. "And why do they need you here?"

"This falls under NORAD," he pointed out. "We had to set up arrangements with the Canadian and US Governments to allow this facility to maintain its current location."

"Or they were going to ship you off to the desert," Harvey chuckled.

~ Stargate Control Room ~

The Stargate stood, tall and silent, lit by low level lighting that somehow seemed to enhance its Ancient Power.

All unnecessary personnel had been escorted from the area, and only a few remaining technicians stood in the control room looking down at it with Tony Stark.

Even Pepper gasped.

But Stark's mind was working overtime.

Considering it never stopped, save when he slept and rarely even then, he was having a hard time keeping up with the flood of ideas racing through his brain.

He fired off questions left and right.

Daniel was able to keep up to an extent, but finally just quit, commandeered at terminal and started retrieving information straight from the computer for the billionaire to read.

Tony sat and took all in, greedily absorbing everything he could lay his hands on. "Energy levels on this thing are massively high," he muttered.

"We look for Zero Point Modules to power the Gate if we need to access Atlantis directly. Most of the time we Gate out to Midway, which is the halfway point between us and them, then dial from there to Atlantis," Daniel informed him. "If we send a ship, the ZPM can get it there in a few days instead of a few weeks."

"How do you get these ZPMs?" Stark asked, running the figures through his head. "Vacuum energy from an artificial region of subspace-time is totally clean. Hmmm containment for Subspace Foam. Interesting concept doing it that way. Seems the Ancients were all Environmentalists. Greens not Grays! Haha!! Apparently Atlantis survived under several hundred feet of ocean for about 10,000 years or so, mainly due its shielding being powered by these crystals, but without such drainage, I'd estimate them lasting at maximum output for 3,500 years, producing 100-200 Terawatts."

"We find them." O'Neill shrugged. "They're basically left over Ancient Tech."

"That's efficient." Tony stood up from the consoles he'd been working at, and looked back down at the Stargate below them. "I have a better solution. It will be the first thing we change around here." He paused. "Well, second thing. First thing we're going to do is get rid of the Hammer Tech. It's giving me hives."

O'Neill was about to explain exactly how long it took for them to get the forms, procedures and policies in place for such grand schemes, only to snap his mouth shut.

They didn't work for the government anymore.

"So now what? Are you going to bring in your own tech guys to replace us?" he demanded.

"Oh, I have guys." Stark leaned against the glass, arms folded across his chest. "The important question here is for you General."

Jack couldn't wait to hear what his new boss was going to say.

So far though, the only thing he'd really complained about was the Hammer Tech, which was completely justified since it was entirely crap.

"This building and its contents, the technology, the future patents, the employees, all of it is now under the direct control of Stark Industries. I do not want any and I mean any of it, getting out to the public. As you already know, everything here is sensitive material, and there are people and organizations that would kill to get their hands on it. So the question I have for you is this. Who do you trust, General O'Neill?"

Jack's eyebrows shot up sharply, but he knew exactly what Stark was suggesting.

Nicolaus had contacted him about Emmett and Marty, and he had hidden them deep enough under a few tons of paperwork that such knowledge wasn't getting out again. The package that arrived with them however, was stashed way beyond Atlantis. Even he didn't know exactly where.

"I can count a dozen or so people that I trust," he said quietly.

Tony nodded briskly. "Great! Fire everyone who isn't on that list."

"You can't do that!" Daniel stood up so fast his chair zoomed back against the wall. "These people need jobs!"

"And they can find them somewhere else," Pepper snapped.

"None of the employees at the SGC have signed disclosure agreements with Stark Industries," Harvey said firmly, having stood back in the room, as far away from looking at the Gate as he could possibly get.

He still couldn't believe they'd dug the damn thing up again in the first place!

He'd had a few choice words to share with Anok Sabe when he first found out the little twerp had re-opened the Gate after all those millennia. In fact, his twin sister had been forced to pull him away before he killed the stupid bastard.

The only good thing he could see in it all, was that now it came under the direct control of someone who knew the value of keeping secrets. And if Harvey caught so much as one employee even thinking about leaking information, he would personally destroy their lives, ruin their reputations in every conceivable manner, then skin them alive in court.

And that would be before he let loose a Hunter or two.

"They signed one with the government," Daniel pointed out angrily, "that would get them arrested for Treason if they spoke about any of this publicly."

"And yet elements of the technology you've discovered here, somehow miraculously found their way into distribution on the open market, through Crimson International. You remember them? They're the group run by Frankenstein. I don't think he's on the payroll, so how exactly did he get his sticky little paws on it?" Harvey gave him a small but devastating smile.

Jackson paused for a moment, trying to formulate a conductive argument.

He had been on the receiving end of Harvey's wrath several times before, and he counted it a blessing that he'd been ignoring Jack as his Mate on the last couple of occasions.

The verbal and physical smack down, had been fast and painful.

Ultimately, he had his own personal reasons for re-opening the Stargate, but knew back then that no one would ever understand, least of all his own people.

He simply hadn't taken into account that they would find Ra again.

The same Ra, who had killed Harvey's family.

Killed Ra's Al Ghul's family.

And murdered Shepsit Hemet Amun-Ra's only son.

"So what do you suggest we do?" Daniel ignored his Mate's incredulous look. "We have thousands of employees, not including the military personnel. We can't kick them all out and run this place by ourselves! It's huge!! Hiring new staff will take a while. And we'll need to start with a whole HR department!"

"General? Colonel Tracy will work with you on removing all military personnel that you do not vouch for personally." Pepper was nothing if not immaculately efficient. "There will be a standard procedure for those whom we bring into the SGC Program. Nobody, least of all Mr. Stark, wants the Defense Department thinking they can sneak one of their guys in, to steal tech and weapon specs, when no one's looking. Therefore we will be looking."

Scott nodded at Jack. "Any military you trust enough to want to keep, General?"

"Mitchell, Carter and Teal'c. The last one's an Alien so we can't quite fire him. There are a few others but those three first. Then there's medical. I want Carson Beckett. He's a Chosen One from Camelot. Also Lorne and his team on Atlantis." O'Neill frowned. "What about the scientists?"

"Doctor Radek? Yes, him I'll keep. The flexible polymer idea he had is worth pursuing." Stark moved to the door. "He's in Atlantis right now, correct? How do I get there?"

"Tony?" Scott moved in front of his Mate, grabbing his arm.

"What? He's the one of the few people around here I actually like." He pulled away with a shrug. "If I could, I'd have Bruce working here, but he's not too keen on enclosed spaces. Not that I blame him, with the whole green rage complex thing going on." He smirked. "Something that big wouldn't fit through the Gate!"


~ Flashback ~


Bruce Banner stepped from Xavier's School with his bags packed, ready to go, only to stop short when he found Tony Stark in the driveway, leaning against his Audi, waiting for him with a big cheeky smile on his face.

"You weren't going to run off without saying goodbye?" he asked him, hand over heart, looking pained and hurt.

"It doesn't beat anymore." Bruce walked down the front step and dropped his gear at Stark's feet, matching his grin. "Not sure it ever did."

"You wound me." Tony laughed lightly, tapping the Reactor embedded in his rib cage. "I sent you a plane for Tracy Island, but you turned me down. What's going on?"

"You got stood up."

He frowned as though such a concept were completely alien to him. "But I have a proposition for you."

Banner smirked. "I thought about it. And you've got a nice enough ass, but Scott would kill me."

"Nice! Nice? This is Grade A prime ass here, thank you very much!" He wiggled it for good measure. "And I would never cheat on…"

Stark snapped his mouth shut, and Banner watched him adjust to the reality of what he'd just been on the verge of admitting.

"I can't go back to Stark Industries, Tony." He took off his glasses and cleaned them on the hem of his shirt, the repetitive action helping settle his nerves and keep him calm.

"I'm buying a new place. Lots of alien technology, brand new research, biological possibilities. Come play with. Special budget. Just for you. No questions asked." Tony beamed at him triumphantly. "Don't make me beg here. It's not pretty."

Banner snorted. "You gonna hug me next?"

Tony cocked his head, contemplating the possibilities. "Only if you say yes. Come on! It'll be fun! It needs some overhauling though. It used to belong to the government."

"You're not talking about the SGC?" Banner stared at his old friend in shock, his mouth falling open. "You bought Stargate Command?"

Stark nodded.

"How much did that cost? No, really! I'm curious."

The billionaire shrugged. "I got it discount. It's a tax write-off," he answered. "You'll be well protected. Study whatever you need to, for as long as you need to, whenever you need to."

Bruce back away from him, and with a painful sigh he shook his head. "This is a guilt thing. You couldn't control what happened to me, so you're over compensating."

"You got a psychology degree in there somewhere?" Tony nodded at the school building behind them. "I'm giving you a chance to fix your condition. Everything you need. Worlds of opportunity. Literally."

"I can't risk being underground."

"We can work around that!" Stark wasn't about to let him get away again. "There are ways around it, Bruce." He glanced down at the bags, then back up at his friend with a sigh. "Where are you heading?"

"Serenity Clan. I'm going to stay with Dr. Neville. He's the one can work with me best." Banner glanced back over his shoulder to where Neville and his Mate were saying their goodbyes to Charles and Jean.

Sam the dog trotted down and sat next to him, demanding pets.

He reached over and scratched her behind the ears.

"Keeps me calm," he explained.

"I have Butterfingers for that." Stark brushed imaginary pet hair off his suit as he moved away. "Go play in the wild frontiers of Alaska!" He waved him off. "I hear they're advanced enough to have actual phone lines up there now."

"Even have the Internet. It's really cool!" Carter snarked as he passed by, Dean the Tomcat following on his heels. "Not sure about this newfangled wifi though…"

Tony ignored him, and the cat. "I'll make sure you have anything you need. Including a secure line to the SGC. Just ask me. You'll get it."

"Aw look! It's so cute."

Tony glared in mock outrage at his Mate, who climbed out of the passenger side of the car and chuckled softly.

"See, it's good you're making friends."

Bruce laughed at the horrified expression on Tony's face. "I promise not to drop off the grid if you promise to do the same."

Tony took off his sunglasses and held out his hand, grinning wickedly. "No guarantees."

***


"We can bring Radek here. You don't have to go anywhere."

Scott's voice tore Tony away from the pleasant memory of pulling the car over after that, way before they reached New York, and blowing his Mate on the side of the road…

They had no idea how the Arc Reactor would handle passage through the Stargate, or how that much raw power in so tiny a space would affect the stability of the Wormhole itself.

"We talked about this," Scott continued.

"No, I talked, you argued." Tony wasn't about to let it drop until he'd done some more calculations on the physics.

And given that he now had access to the relevant data, he intended to do just that.

"We can get him here," O'Neill agreed, not really wanting to get in the middle of whatever it was they were getting into. "Daniel? Dial out to Midway. Get a message that I need to see Lorne and Radek as soon as possible."

Scott glared at his Mate. "Tony…" His voice dropped significantly. "Please."

Whatever Tony Stark was going to snark back at his Mate, never came out of his mouth.

The moment the Gate began its Dial Up Sequence, he was utterly enthralled.

Stepping up to the glass, they stood side by side, and watched as each Chevron locked into place with a thud.

There was a violent wooshing sound, and a flow of brilliant, bubbling, roiling liquid burst outward from the center of the ring.

Pepper and Happy also stared at it, mesmerized.

"My God," Scott breathed.

"Backwash. Subspace Foam," Tony explained, as the liquid settled into a shimmering, vertical pool of blue light.

Harvey walked slowly over to the glass.

It had been thousands of years since he last heard that all too familiar sound, or saw that innocently glowing circle.

Death had marched through it so many times, that never did he imagine he would someday be standing in an underground bunker in Colorado, watching it come alive again.

"Now that is very cool." Stark marveled at the Ancient Technology he owned, his eyes glittering with all the unbridled joy of a five year old on Christmas Morning.


***


Evan Lorne sat quietly in the corner and watched as his Mate talked excitedly in Czech with Tony Stark.

Who knew Tony Stark spoke Czech?

No, really?

Who?

He had no idea what the two of them were talking about, just that Radek's expression showed fear, then anticipation, awe, and finally settled into a fierce determination. Their Bond reflected the same, and it was at such moments that he really missed Shep.

Having someone to talk to when their respective Mates went off the science stuff, had actually meant a lot.

Stark handed Radek a portable device of some sort, and without so much as a word to even acknowledge Lorne was there, got up and left.

"So what was that about?" he asked, needing to know even though he was pretty sure the explanation would be way too complicated.

"He has a few projects he wants me to work on." Radek smiled brightly. "He's also going to fund some of my own research in the meantime."

"That's good?"

He leaned over and kissed his Mate. "Very good! Finally someone who understands that science isn't about the next military advantage!!"

"You know Stark makes weapons, right?"

"Did."

"What?" Lorne shook his head.

"Stopped about two years ago," Radek explained simply. "There were rumors that Stark Industries was on the brink of bankruptcy, but SI has started coming out with high tech gear, like this thing." He held up what proved to be a kind of Tablet device, like a laptop computer without the keypad. "I'm going to test some new materials as they come out. See how good they hold up."

Evan took it from his Mate's hand and looked it over. It was sleek, slimline, smaller than the average laptop, but still had some weight on it. "Could come in handy on Missions."

"He called it a SI-pad."

Lorne snorted. "Yeah, that'll take off. So what project is he having you work on?"

Radek paused, then got up and made sure to go shut the door. "I'm only telling you because you are my Mate and need to know."

"Is it dangerous?" he demanded, eyes narrowing.

"Yes. But it has to be done." Radek took a deep breath to calm his nerves. "Remember what happened two years ago, at the Vatican?"

"I saw the footage. Why?"

"That explosion was caused by antimatter." He slowly began explaining the concept, the reality, the necessity to explore its potential, the devastation that it could lead to in the wrong hands.

"So a pin drop of this stuff can wipe out Rome and you want to work with it?" Lorne shook his head. "Hell fucking no! Let alone the danger to anyone working with you! The station? Hell, all of Atlantis could be at risk!"

"Which is why any antimatter research facility must be located on a dead planet." Radek looked over his glasses at his Mate. "I would never jeopardize others."

"Sorry." Evan knew it was true, and apologized for his ranting. Rubbing his hands over his face, he asked, "So now what?"

"We find a dead planet. And then we start building."


***


Tony walked through the Stargate facility, exploring of his own free will when no one was around.

Pepper had been busy for hours, but he'd finally sent her to be with her Mate, so she could get some rest.

Happy too had been up to his neck, establishing better security procedures as a matter of extreme priority, especially when the removal of so many employees and staff began generating a deal more anger than professionalism.

He'd smiled softly though, watching the two of them walk away, Happy holding her close, taking care of her. They were good together. Stronger. And it left him with a pleasant sense of contentment whenever he saw it.

Poking his nose around the place in the mean time, had him discovering some interesting corrections and replacements for the craptastic Hammer Tech that was literally everywhere he looked. O'Neill had mentioned that upgrades and replacements were ongoing, and on most of the hardware and some of the software, the name Maverick Enterprises kept popping up. It was good work, creative. The owner was a guy named Lucas Michaels, and he figured it might be prudent to have Pepper and Scott check him out.

Tony had paused at one of the labs, watching through the glass as Doc Brown worked on an experiment with something that appeared to be decidedly Alien in both shape and texture.

Nicolaus had informed him that one of the biggest priorities for the Stargate Program was hiding Emmett Brown and his Mate, Martin McFly.

The Doctor was a brilliant scientist; someone he would love to sit and talk with on all those theoretical concepts that were gradually starting to become reality.

Marty however, looked to be barely out of high school, though he had seen the kid hold his own with some of the soldiers earlier in the day, sparring together, training in self-defense and hand-to-hand.

While the Doc was deep in his science, he probably had no idea how his Mate had gone to great lengths learning to protect him.

It made Tony wonder if Marty knew how great the threat against them could really be, and was prepping for it, just to be safe.

Mates had a tendency to protect each other - some more fiercely than it might seem at first - and he had no doubt Samuel Winchester would leave a trail of bodies behind him, if anything ever happened to Dean.

Clay and Cougar were crazy, so if anyone got to Jensen, it wouldn't be pretty. Entertaining maybe, but not pretty.

Thinking about Mates had him dwelling on his own.

Scott stood by him, through everything.

The Stark Industries restructure.

Building the Suit.

Testing the Suit.

Crashing the Suit.

Dealing with Stane.

He was having a hard time with the fact that, even if he'd lost the Company, his money, his reputation, Scott would still be there.

And the hardest thing of all to deal with, was realizing he wanted him there.

It was Dean Winchester who'd stuck that fact in his head.

Bastard.

Dean Winchester, the only person to ever have turned down the Stark Scholarship.

After discovering some of his background, Tony could see how that had happened, and while he hadn't taken personal offense at it, he'd actually been offended for Dean. The kid was smart, and given the right circumstances he could have been working at Stark Industries, pulling a damn fine salary and running his own department by then.

They'd been on Tracy Island, working with a variety of energy equations, not really talking much until Dean glanced over at him and said simply…


~ Flashback ~


"It doesn't change the way they see us."

Tony had no idea what he was talking about, so ignored him completely.

"Our Mates." Dean nodded up at where Sam and Scott were talking softly on the walkway over their heads. "Sam has never looked at me differently."

"Why would he?" Stark glanced at his Mate, catching Scott's gaze for a second.

"I know my Turning is gossiped about. Admitting the whole thing was not cool. But being with Sammy is forever." He shrugged, as if the conversation was perfectly normal, and not really about the worst moment in both of their lives and deaths.

"You're good with the forever?" Tony asked, busy with the numbers he was manipulating, and not really thinking about the consequences.

Dean gave him a knowing chuckle. "You going to tell me you're not?"


***


"Done playing?"

Tony had been staring at the Gate, right there on the ramp in front of it, running his hand over the glyphs he could reach.

Scott startled him.

Blinking as he turned to the massively protective 'Blaster Doors', he found his Mate leaning casually against the wall.

He was out of uniform, wearing jeans and a t-shirt.

"It's late," he said quietly. "Come to bed."

Tony's sex life had always been one-night stands.

He was attracted to the shiny, got what he wanted.

And he was done.

He didn't do second nights.

And everybody knew it.

Himself included.

No ties.

No connections.

No pretense at wanting something more, that was never going to happen.

Yet when he woke up every morning with Scott at his side, he still wanted more.

He wanted every morning with him.

Every moment with him…

"Missed me, huh?"

"Yes." Scott was nothing if not blunt.

He sauntered forward, setting foot on the ramp, as humbled by everything the Gate represented, as he had been watching it work just a few hours earlier.

"Got something else I can play with?" Tony teased gently.

"Oh, I can think of a few things." Scott chuckled. He wasn't a flirt by nature, but being with someone like Stark made him a little more aware of the best use of innuendo. "Not as impressive as this though…" He gazed up at the Gate and found it even more massively imposing in person. "Why did you buy it?"

"Because I could."

Scott reached out, slipping a hand into his Mate's wild black hair. "Besides that…" He could sense there was more, but he wasn't sure what it was exactly.

"Because Nicolaus asked me to."

Scott smiled, leaning down and kissing him softly, slowly deepening the passion, pulling him closer.

He knew he'd never get enough of feeling Tony's surprise then the surge of delight that always came through the Bond. He figured it was something his Mate didn't know he was projecting, but he had no plans on telling him about it.

"I'll make you a family man yet," he whispered against Tony's lips.

"And for that, you are sleeping on the couch." He pulled back, glaring at his Mate, who was utterly immune to such a look.

"What?" Scott grinned. "Are you going to turn down hot sex?"

"I hate you."

"You love me, and you love all those kids you've picked up too. Hell, we're already paying for one to go to college!" Scott laughed as he took Tony's hand and lead him from the Gate Room. "Now it's time for all good genius, billionaire, playboys to get their sleep."

"I don't need to sleep," Tony argued, whining slightly, but he didn't pull his hand out of Scott's.

The Colonel looked down at their fingers entwined, emotion choking him up.

Baby steps.

Just baby steps.

"By the way," he murmured, "have you told Dean you're sending him to MIT?"

"Why should I? He's going, whether he likes it or not."


~ Xavier's School for the Gifted ~


"Sam!" Dean yelled, as he ran madly down the stairs, a stack of papers clenched in his hand. "SAM!"

"Is there some reason you're bellowing in the halls?" Castiel asked archly, as he stepped out of nowhere, blocking the way.

The Hunter jumped slightly, then glared at the Mutant. "You need a bell. Round your neck. Like a cat."

Cas smiled.

"That's a good look on you," Dean commented, still casting around for his Mate. "Have you seen Sam? He's about this high…" He held his arms up way over his head. "Long flowy hair like some shampoo commercial."

"He's out back with the kids and Wade." Cas pointed him toward the French doors.

"Why aren't you out there with the kids, more importantly with Wade? Thought you two were joined at the hip, and were staying on to teach or something?" Dean focused on the young man they had found in Portland, and frowned. "What's going on?"

In the weeks since Magneto's attack, Castiel had thrived. He laughed more and even cracked a smile now and then, and had been seen talked animatedly with the kids. Everyone thought he'd finally found himself a permanent home.

"Oh, I'm staying," he said softly. "Wade isn't."

"Ahhhh! Really?"

"It's his choice. I mean, he's spent his whole life protecting me. It's good he can now explore the world, especially being a Vampire. I'm safe here. He doesn't need to worry about me…"

"You believe any of that bullshit comin' out of your mouth?" Dean gave him a look, lips pursed, eyes narrowing. "Have you told lover boy you don't want him to go?"

"We are not lovers." Castiel folded his arms over his chest.

"Yeah, that's probably the problem here. Find him. Pounce the boy. Use the wings to pin him down. Actually that could be kinda hot! Like Angel sex." He gave his friend a saucy grin.

"He's a Vampire."

"And?" Dean held his hands out, clearly questioning that assertion. "What? Coming from experience, I gotta tell ya, Vampire Sex is goooood."

"I'm not his Mate!" Cas snapped back. "I'm not going to give that bastard more of my heart, and then get to watch him be all happy and loving with some evil She-Vamp!!"

"Whoa! Dude! Calm down!" He put his hands on Castiel's shoulders, alarmed by the rapid way his face had reddened. "How do you know you're not his Mate?"

"It's been weeks since he was Turned, and he hasn't said anything." All the energy deflated from the smaller man and he looked utterly miserable. "He's looking forward to getting away from me." He pulled out of Dean's grasp and trudged morosely up the stairs.

Dean snarled, tucked his papers into his pocket and stalked out through the French doors onto the back lawn.

It was seriously starting to look green and lush again.

Wade was talking with Sam, working through some defense maneuvers.

They were both built to a similar height and shape, and were a good pair for sparring.

He made his way across to them, burning with a fury, and before either could say anything by way of greeting, he slammed his fist into Wade's face, grinning at the very satisfying crunch it made as the new Vampire fell to the ground.

"What the fuck?" Wade bellowed, as he rolled around, one hand covering his bleeding nose.

"Dean!" Sam stared at his brother in shock.

All he could feel through their Bond was rage.

Dean was pissed.

"Sonofabitch is hurting Cas," he growled, glaring down at Wade without an ounce of sympathy.

"I would never hurt Cas!"

Or at least that's what they thought he said.

Wade stood back up, staggering slightly, wiping the blood off his face with his shirt.

The Winchesters both cringed when he reset his nose.

"Have you had a lot of practice doing that?" Sam asked, looking a little grossed out.

"Hello, have you met Eliot?" he asked, then glared at Dean. "What the fuck do you mean I'm hurting Cas?"

"The boy is crying in his bedroom right now, over you leaving him for better pastures," Dean snarled, fists clenched. "Okay, fine he's not your Mate. But at least have the decency to talk to the boy and tell…"

"He is my Mate."

"What?" Dean stopped mid-sentence. "Then why aren't you two having really hot Angel Vampire sex right now?"

Sam just stared at his brother like he'd gone mad, then shook his head not wanting to really know.

"What?" Wade stared at him for a few moments, processing that image in his head. "What?"

"He thinks you're running off 'cause you don't want to be responsible for him anymore." Dean rolled his eyes as he threw his hands up in the air, the papers he'd been carrying falling out of his pockets and blowing across the grass. "When I'm the voice of relationship reason, you have a serious fucking problem, dude!"

Sam chuckled as he bent down and quickly scooped up the flapping white sheets, pausing as his eyes scanned the contents.

He froze in shock as he read what they were.

"I… But… I was… going to ask him to come with me," Wade stammered, then stopped when Dean just glared. "What do I do now?"

"Seriously?" The Hunter sighed. "Need me draw you a diagram? Go claim your Mate, you idjit!"

If ever there was a time to channel Bobby Singer, that was it.

Wade ran off toward the school; tail inserted firmly between legs.

Dean's cheesy grin slowly faded at his Mate's incredulous expression. "What?"

Sam held up the papers, waving them around. "You were accepted into MIT?"

"I have no idea how. I didn't apply." Dean shrugged, reaching for the somewhat crumpled documents. "I thought you sent my application in?"

"Like I had the time lately? This says they are accepting your application from back in 1997." Sam quickly did the math in his head. That would have been a year after Dean 'dropped out' or what was better known as 'graduated early'. "It also states you've been award the Stark Scholarship. Dude, this is a free ride to MIT!"

"We have jobs Sam." Dean tried for the papers again, only to have Sam step back pulling them out of the way.

"Gerard would totally work with us. You have to do this, Dean."

"Why?" He shrugged. "I like our lives right now. Getting a degree at MIT would change that."

"So many opportunities would open up to you." Sam shook his head at his brother's denseness. "You could work for Stark! Or with Charlie!"

"But I like being a US Marshal!" Dean pointed out, whining like a baby and not giving a damn how he sounded.

Sam looked down at the papers then back at his Mate. "Dean, do you think MIT just hunted you down out of the blue after all these years, to inform you that you've been re-accepted and the scholarship has been waiting for you?"

He blinked a few times as the penny finally dropped. "Tony Stark did this."

Sam rolled his eyes. "So you're going to MIT whether you like or not." He chuckled at Dean's expression. "Which is good, since I got a letter from Harvard Law few days ago, stating that my own application was approved and I would be starting next Fall. I never sent an application in, Dean, nor did I ever finish my degree at Stanford."

"That sneaky, plotting, conniving sonofabitch!"


~ Wayne Studios Press Conference ~


The lobby of the main offices for Wayne Studios, was filled with reporters from over a dozen news agencies, both domestic and international.

Ever since the Wayne News Network had started broadcasting information on the explosion at Gen-Cris Pharmaceutical as being part of a movie stunt gone bad, speculation and conspiracy theories had invaded all the other networks, thickening by the minute, and increasing in craziness.

Which was just fine with the people who'd started the rumor to begin with.

Bruce Wayne had called a Press Conference to try and answer at least some of the many questions that were currently circulating, and he had quickly memorized the best script his team of in-house writers had ever produced.

There was a long table covered in a discreetly colored cloth, bearing a range of equally discreet microphones, along with some carafes and glasses for water, all set before an array of matching chairs, settled in front of an elegant back drop on which the Wayne Studios Logo had been expensively embroidered.

The murmuring in the crowd of reporters quieted down considerably when Bruce Wayne and his CEO, Dick Grayson, stepped out from behind said curtain, and sat down at the center of the table.

They were soon joined by the Multiple-Oscar Winning actor Kirk Lazarus, the ever beautiful Kiera Knightly - also known in some worlds as Elizabeth Norrington - Oscar Nominee and Golden Globe Winner Ralph Fiennes, and the famed Cameraman Frank Hurley from the globally successful reality television drama Crab Hunting.

They took seats to the left and right of the two Studio Producers.

"I would like to thank everyone for coming," Bruce said firmly, smiling benignly at the sea of faces.

Lois Lane, Wayne News Network's very own roving reporter, was there in the front row.

She had valiantly started to make something of a name for herself after That Night, while Jimmy Olsen had won countless awards for his outstanding camera work and videography.

Though the one image used regularly and seen even then years later, was a single shot taken from his stills camera, of the man better referred to as Saint Patrick of Conclave, stood at the window of the Apostolic Palace, wreathed in Holy Flame.

Lane had however, been given specific questions in preparation, that she would need to ask during the Press Conference. She had screeched in disgust at such an idea, and demanded better treatment as the journalist of high moral integrity she truly was, but quickly shut up when Bruce asked her very politely whether she knew much about Penguins.

Jimmy was seated in the throng of cameramen, his credentials having given him the coveted spot right in the middle. He was still her cameraman, even with all of his awards, just because he was the only one who could handle her.

Though he would deny that to his dying breath.

And did.

Regularly.

Bruce could see that Fox News was also close to center point. Their reporter's eyes were utterly unblinking, her stare glued to him like he was fish food in a shark tank, and the smirk she wore clearly stated she was ready to take them to the carpet and stomp all over their pathetically sorry heads.

He hated bloody reporters.

CNN, Reuters, AP and the BBC were sitting behind them, waiting eagerly.

It was like they could smell blood.

His.

Bruce took a deep breath and sent a prayer up to the Gods.

'Get me out of here without loss of life and I'll make sure I don't cuss at anyone for an entire week…'

Or words to that effect.

"I'm quite sure many of you have a considerable number of questions concerning the tragic events at Raccoon City." He held out his hand to stop the avalanche of accusations that started instantaneously. "Let's be civilized about this. It’s a concept I'm sure some of you are aware of."

Dick chuckled wickedly. "What he means to say, is be nice or we go home."

"Richard." Bruce didn't even look at his Mate as he spoke. His tone was enough to get the younger man to be quiet.

"See what happens when you upset him?" Dick ignored the tone and the sideways glance.

He was known as the rebel bad boy in Hollywood circles, so he could get away with being snarky to the reporters more than most others. Besides which, he recognized the bitch from Fox. Her name was Ms. Avino. She was the one who did an expose on him and Bruce, and how their relationship was dangerous because Dick was so much younger than the Hollywood Mogul and had clearly been pulled off the Casting Couch for his pretty boy looks and his nice tight ass, and it set such a bad example to the young and vulnerable upcoming stars of the movie world, that immorality was perfectly acceptable to the Liberal Elite of Los Angeles.

If she only knew just an inch of the truth.

She would've been having a heart attack right there in the middle of the pack.

"Let's get the simple things out of the way first. Yes, that was us filming in Raccoon City. We do apologize for the confusion, but honestly we had no idea that the Republican Presidential Candidate had been promoting our script in such a fashion." Grayson gave the reporters a bright smile.

"How could you not know!?"

"Ahh! Ms. Avino from Fox News. How lovely to hear your dulcet tones this early in the morning. Are you quite well?" Bruce gave her a tight lipped smile.

He hadn't forgiven her for her article, and was still working to figure out if he could buy Fox News just have the unmitigated pleasure of firing her stupid ass.

"I'm fine Mr. Wayne, thank you. The people of the United States however, are wondering how you couldn't possibly know what was going on! How in reality this is some vast conspiracy to cover up the truth! And how the Hollywood Liberal Agenda is corrupting our society!"

"Was there an intelligent question in there?" Kirk commented, glancing down the table at Hurley who just shrugged. "Alright, let me try and compensate for the stupid over there. We were filming a much anticipated movie, one that was being held in secrecy for its stunning story line. So as much as there were no communications going out, none were coming in. It's called a closed set for a reason."

She glared at Kirk, her contempt for him clearly showing through. "I do believe the man who won an Oscar for flaunting his bare ass on camera multiple times, just called me stupid." She sniffed haughtily.

"And thankfully, she's not deaf," he muttered. "How many awards has your naked ass picked up lately?" He beamed at her, entirely unruffled.

Much laughter ensued.

Dick wiped the tears from his eyes.

Bruce wondered if he should've brought a gavel from the Property Department.

She huffed, but gathered her wits with remarkable speed. "You're trying to tell me that you had no idea President Elect Gregory Stillson…"

"When did the Election happen?" Bruce asked, staring her down.

Silence fell.

Horribly.

"Since this entire incident was stolen from a movie script, and there has been no Election yet, I very much doubt that Candidate Stillson will be using the title 'President Elect' any time soon," Fiennes said quietly, his educated English accent cutting through the moment like a razor sharp knife on a pat of butter. "Not that I have anything to say about your American Political System, but I don't believe the American People are too keen on liars, cheats and frauds in the White House. Well, not that often any way."

His joke was taken with the polite laughter that was intended, as his respectful and slightly humorous tone was regarded with the gentle consideration that most English folk tended to receive in the United States.

And it stood as sharp and beautiful contrast to Kirk's loud, broad, Aussie attitude.

They were actually playing caricatures of themselves and doing it with astonishing ease.

They generally did it, every day.

"So all of this was a script?" Lois Lane asked, her tone curious and innocent. "Everything Mr. Stillson said in his press conferences was part of your own script?"

"He flubbed it," Kirk answered. "Badly."

"Mr. Stillson came to Hollywood to raise money for his Campaign. Considering his very vocal views on marriage equality and equal rights, I politely told him I wasn't interested." Bruce informed them, business-like and curt. "The script for Resident Mutants was in my office, as we were days away from closing the set and starting to film in Raccoon City."

"What about the footage that was shown?" Ms. Avino asked suspiciously. "The footage that shows Mutants? The fact that a boy could shoot ice from his fingers?! Was that in your script, or some kind of computer effects work up?"

"I have no idea what that was, actually. It wasn't in our script," Bruce replied, trying not to reach over and slap the crap out of her. "What finally caught our attention was having one of the first scenes we'd just shot, promptly airing all over the news."

"If it was a closed set how did you see it?" She clearly thought she had one up on them, and her proof that all of it was fake.

"Wow, lady! You really are a moron." Kirk rolled his eyes and leaned casually back in his chair, swinging one arm over the rear of it.

"Now, Kirk…" Elizabeth chastised him very properly.

"Don't 'Kirk' me, sweetie! This woman is an idiot and she obviously has a crush on Greg Stillson a mile wide, and wants desperately to prove he's some kind of true American Patriot and not the lying cheating con artist he really is." Lazarus let his Australian twang ripen just slightly as he gave his passionately snarky retort.

"You don't have much to say in any of this, Mr. Lazarus. You're just an Australian Citizen and have no part in American politics." Ms. Avino sneered at him and practically blew a raspberry in her frustration.

"The world's a small place, and getting smaller every day, and your politics affect it." Hurley spoke up for the first time. "We might not vote in your elections, just as you don't vote in ours, but each affects the other in the greater world theatre."

The BBC journalist looked over at her distastefully. "And considering that an American Presidential Candidate went to great lengths to lie and cheat in order to secure himself the Presidency, we as the world do have a say, considering he would have been a leading player on the world stage."

"What my fellow Aussie here, and my English chum over there are trying to say, is that you're a total dipshit." Kirk's smirk was its condescending best.

"Bruce and I were not on the set," Dick interjected, before lawyers could be called and defamation lawsuits put into place. "We'd gone on a much needed vacation. Now, we have a few rules when we can get our schedules together to actually take a break: no work, no cell phones, no outside influences." Dick reached over and took Bruce's hand, squeezing it significantly. "Its how we survive in this industry."

He paused for a moment, making sure the cameras caught his affection for Bruce perfectly, and did a little tug at the viewers' heartstrings.

"When we were returning back to civilization, I caught Mr. Stillson's news conference and then saw the footage straight off the script." Bruce didn't take his hand out from under Dick's, noticing how uncomfortable a few of the reporters had become, specifically Ms. Avino. "I contacted our Director, and he had no idea what was going on. We proceeded directly to the set, and when we arrived, the news media was all over it, demanding answers on Mutants."

"You haven't explained the footage of the other Mutant boy! All you've said is that one of the clips shown was from your supposed script…"

Bruce interrupted her with a cough. "Mr. Conner? Come out and say hello."

John Conner stepped out from the back area, and waved charmingly at the reporters, batting boyishly innocent eyes from under a long fringed teenage haircut.

Ralph stood up and held out his chair, taking a standing position behind Bruce. He had no idea fully yet was going on, but he had been friends with Bruce since filming the Oskar Schindler story. He had been amazed at the resemblance between the two men, only to discover by accident that Vampires were really not mythical stories. Wayne had become his friend over the years, and so when he'd called and asked him to film in a new movie, saying all he needed was to play along and adlib, he did just that.

"Introducing John Conner, Wayne Studios new upcoming star." Wayne stood up and gripped Conner's shoulders as they both smiled for the flashing cameras. He then motioned for him to take a seat. "The scene you saw was one of the first we filmed."

"Mr. Conner how did you get the role?"

"Mr. Conner? Are you a Mutant?"

"What are you hiding here?"

"Did you know you were being used?"

"Are your co-stars all Mutants too?"

Lazarus rolled his eyes as he stood up. "That's it! I'm done with this bullshit! Call me when you have real questions. I am totally sick of being surrounded by this crap! I'm an actor not a goddamn circus clown!" He stalked out of the conference, ignoring the questions and the cameras all flashing in his face, his expression one of steely determination and abhorrence at what his fragile ego was being forced to endure.

But he achieved exactly what was needed, as half the reports in their respective newscasts would draw their focus to the nature of his abrupt exit, and not the Mutant issue.

"I'm just a teenager from Miami," John shrugged shyly.

"How did you get the role?" Lois Lane asked, smiling at him gently and putting him at ease.

"Was approached at school after one of my performances in Drama Class. Took a while to convince my mom, but dad backed me up," he answered easily. "I had no idea what was going on, until everything happened at Raccoon City."

"What happened?" A reporter from CNN finally got a question in, speaking up before Fox News could start berating the poor kid.

"We were working on this scene where my character's mom comes to save him from the scientists. There was to be all these explosions to make it look like some invasion, but something went wrong." He looked over at Bruce for some help.

"No one was hurt. We can confirm that. Thank God for safety measures and an excellent visual effects crew, whom I would like to thank personally for all their help in clearing this up. But there was some major property damage. While investigating what went wrong, we discovered that it was staff at Gen-Cris Pharmaceutical who leaked the footage to Stillson, and were supporting his Campaign efforts. Our own lawyers are looking into liability and lawsuits, and I know the Federal Government is also looking into business practice at Gen-Cris." Bruce shook his head sadly.

"So when will we see this movie?" a reporter from NBC asked. "Or will the project be shelved?"

"Well considering our script was stolen and used to try and bolster a political campaign, and the set was shut for safety reasons, it's hard to say at this point. Our writers will be re-working the idea. It's still got legs, and we have an excellent cast here all ready to get back into the action. So just keep an eye on the tabloids and gossip shows. They should let you know when we get back to filming."

The reporters chuckled knowingly as he stood up.

"As there are no further questions, I'll be closing this press conference…"

"Really!" Ms. Avino stood up again and challenged Bruce for a final time. "You expect us to believe that this whole thing was a movie? That the Presidential Republican Candidate…" She purposely looked at Fiennes who just coldly stared back. "…used a script to run his campaign?"

"I can't tell you what Mr. Stillson was thinking, but I can tell you that the footage shown, and the plotline used, were from our movie." Bruce looked down at her, neither moving nor letting up on his intense glare until he was sure she'd gotten the point. "Now if you'll excuse me, Ms. Avino, I have a Studio to run, actors to spank, and movies to make."

He motioned for John to go first, nodding at Fiennes who escorted the boy off the stage and away behind the curtain.

Bruce slipped his own hand down onto Dick's lower back as they made their way to the exit.

Symbolism.

It was all about the gestures.

"What about New York City!?" she yelled after him.

"What about it?" Dick turned back to her, glaring angrily. "That was a terrorist attack. A terrible tragedy. People died. Don't denigrate their memory by trying to make that moment into something it's not."

"There's no scene in your script then, of Mutants attacking Grand Central Station?" she snarked.

"That would be a little too clichéd if you ask me." Bruce gave a firm nod.

The rest of the reporters all shook their heads, and started to break down their equipment.

Ms. Avino was left standing alone in the front row.

"Let it go."

She turned to see Lois Lane standing there, with Jimmy right behind her. "Oh, of course! Coming from WNN's star reporter! Bitch please, you would do whatever your boss tells you."

Jimmy rolled his eyes, holding Lois back by the elbow, stopping her from flying at the other woman in a nail clawing rage. "Stillson bribed, manipulated and conned his way into the Nomination. Face it. This had nothing to do with Mutants or genetically enhanced cures and all that Science Fiction crap. This was all about one man's greed, and it went way too far. His own Vice-Presidential Candidate withdrew from the Campaign in horror, and left the Republican Party! If that doesn't tell you how bad it all was, nothing will. Peter Petrelli comes from a long line of Red State Republicans."

"Yeah well coming from the man who believes that Patrick McKenna was heroically Assumed into Heaven, I don't have much faith in your ability to distinguish truth from fiction." She grabbed her bags and packed her gear, completely oblivious to how close she'd come to getting shanked by a microphone stalk.

"There's Faith," Jimmy said softly, "and then there's blind ignorance. The key is in knowing the difference."


~ Bruce Wayne's Office ~


By the time they were done, Bruce Wayne's Suite of offices was a welcome haven.

Mrs. Pennyworth set some mugs of blood, a few trays of snack food and an assorted arrangement of alcohol on the bar, and then closed the door on her way out, stating very firmly that she would ensure they had peace and quiet. No one doubted her when she said that.

Hurley grabbed a beer off the tray and settled into one of the chairs across from the bar near the picture windows that looked out on the Studio Lot. There was a comfortable couch to his right another chair to his left, and a long glass coffee table in front of him, with a larger chair facing that. It was all very smart and elegant, and not in the least bit as imposing as the type of environment some of the other Executives in Hollywood liked to display. It was a tidy, pleasant, and fairly neutral place to do business, with just a few scattered photographs from the more infamous titles produced there over the years, and a spectacular view of the famed Wayne Studios Water Tower.

"A little too cliché?" He chuckled as he sipped his drink. "Though I have to admit attacking Grand Central Station was a bit overly dramatic. My Mate was right in the middle of it." He still hadn't forgiven James for that stunt, or the kitten he'd brought home either.

Lucky he dumped it off with Avery.

Who promptly named it Graysmith.

"I can't believe anyone actually bought any of that." Elizabeth snagged her own beer and leaned against Hurley's seat, giving him the once over. "And why were you there exactly?"

"Famous Documentary Maker, Producer and Cameraman," Dick informed her, as he handed his Mate a cup of blood. "I know you haven't fed."

Bruce sat down across from Hurley in the larger chair, and no one was shocked when Dick easily curled into his lap.

It was one of the reasons they had bought that particular chair to start with, it was big enough for the two of them to snuggle in, and the matching couch was that perfect height to bend Dick over and have his way with him.

He drank down the blood that his Mate eyed him into consuming, then set the mug aside. "So now we really have to make this movie."

"Whose idea was it to cover this whole thing with a film?" Hurley asked, frowning.

The little James had told him was amazing, and seemed way too far-fetched for anything but Hollywood, or maybe some of the more adventurous comic book writers out there lately.

Dick raised his hand, not in the least bit shy about it. "Hey, it worked for the train wreck on the 101. This is just a bit more complicated, that's all."

"So the Mutant thing?" Fiennes asked curiously.

He, like everyone else, had watched Stillson's speeches, and read the reports. He hadn't really believed one damn word of it, having worked in enough movies with enough special sequences in them to see how the whole thing might be done, but then one of his best friends was over 5000 years old, and he had actually met the real Oskar Schindler.

Perspectives changed.

But Stillson was still a complete arse.

Everyone just stared at him, and he wondered for a moment if he'd said all that out loud.

"Fine." He shook his head and shrugged. "Though if there really are Mutants, the first vote for naming one goes to Kirk."

"Actually it's the Frozen Bunny back in Max's vineyard," Lazarus stated blithely, as he strode into the room, his timing as perfect as ever.

"Jack isn't a Mutant," Hurley said bluntly, correcting such assumption.

Jack Frost was Oceania Clan, and well hidden from most other Vampires outside that immediate circle, even the newer members. Except James of course, who'd accidentally run into him, and made friends with the big kid; pretty much the same way he'd somehow made friends with Henry Sturges of all people.

"Who's Jack?" Elizabeth asked, completely unaware of him.

"Bunny's Mate." Kirk sat down in Bruce's chair behind his desk, only to get up quickly when the older Vampire just gave him the kind of look that normally dropped people at 200 yards.

He moved to the couch, grabbing a snack before settling down.

Elizabeth looked over at Hurley for an answer.

"We normally don't talk about him…" the Cameraman began carefully.

"For good reason," Kirk added, snorting.

Hurley ignored him. "But since you met his father…"

"Squid face," Kirk informed her.

"Davy Jones?" she asked, eyebrows rising. "Wait up! He has a son? How is that even possible?"

"Well, when a Squid and a Crab get together, they make baby sea things… Need a diagram?" Kirk grinned, giving her the most anatomically incorrect hand gestures she'd ever seen.

Hurley rolled his eyes. "Basically Jack Frost isn't a Mutant. He's a Water Sprite. And he's Mated to a Bunny."

"Excuse me?" She wasn't sure she heard that right either.

"Bob the Bunny," Kirk snorted. "Robert de Lapins, sweetie. The Rabbit Man himself."

"That conversation made no sense whatsoever." Fiennes looked over at Bruce, totally lost. "I think we need to have dinner. You can explain it in proper English."

"Gladly my friend," he gave him a genuine, if somewhat exhausted smile.

"Meantime, our writer is working up a script and we should begin filming in a few months. You're all cast. Naturally. It'll be fun. Don't worry about a thing." Dick chuckled at their expressions. "Until then, remember there's no such thing as Mutants."

"Or Vampires," John Conner added with a grin.

He'd stayed lurking by the door, not too comfortable yet with what was going on, but more than willing to give it a shot.

It got him out school if nothing else.


~ New York City: FBI Headquarters – White Collar Division ~


Peter leaned a hip against the table in the conference room, and watched with unadulterated glee the currently running news footage of the FBI: White Collar Division raiding Gregory Stillson's Penthouse.

Flipping the TV channels he got repetitions of the same scene, all from slightly different angles.

"Leave it on Channel Two. They caught my best side," Neal Caffrey said, with a cheeky little wink, as he walked into the Conference Room, and scooted over beside his Mate. "I do have to say it Peter, you look very dashing in your FBI Windbreaker."

"Nothing you can say right now could possibly ruin my good mood." Peter's grin was huge and happy as he glanced over at his Mate.

Since those days they'd spent at Xavier's School for the Gifted, the two, and later three of them, had talked more openly; Peter finally beginning to see that there was so much more to Neal Caffrey than the man he'd assumed he knew so well.

There was Raphael Santi, just for starters.

Not to mention the real Jack Sheppard.

And William Chaloner, allegedly.

As well as a great many other personas he had assumed over the thousands of years he had lived.

And in turn, Neal was starting to learn the value of a Mate.

He had only every truly trusted a handful of people in his life, and he was the first to admit it was taking him some time to reach that point with Elizabeth and Peter. Not because Peter had caught him. That fact actually made Neal respect him all the more.

It was simply because there were people and things in his past he had to protect.

At all costs.

Things he couldn't talk about yet.

Peter had thought about it, nodded, taken a good deep breath and said he trusted Neal to tell them about all of it one day.

That weekend they had completed the Bond.

"You're blushing." Neal teased him. "You are so thinking about that weekend in Upstate New York, aren't you?"

"Yes." Peter grinned without shame.

"Too bad we have paperwork." Caffrey gave him a saucy wink before turning to look down into the bullpen.

Someone had come in when it ought to have been empty.

Departmental personnel had all gone home for the night, leaving Peter and Neal to finish up the last of the details on the Stillson Case, and the papers specifically relating to transferring St. Jerome of the Wilderness back to its rightful home at the Vatican Museum.

"Have I told you about the storage room in the…?" Peter followed Neal's glaze to where a man was standing near Caffrey's desk. "Who is that?"

The two of them headed out and down the stairs; Neal staying a few steps behind Peter, given how the stranger had an air about him that screamed Law Enforcement all over the place.

"I'm Special Agent Peter Burke. Is there something I can help you with?" Peter asked easily.

"Ernesto Olivetti, Inspector General of the Vatican Police. I hear you have one of our paintings." He deliberately pulled back his suit coat, displaying the badge on his belt.

Neal stared at him in shock.

This was the famed Inspector that his Uncle Nicolaus had been hiding in Italy!

His plan had totally worked! Though he hadn't actually expected the Head of Security himself to show up in person, he had always maintained a good relationship with Fate.

"You have no idea how glad I am to meet you." He smiled suavely, and with the utmost charm.

"I missed your name." Ernesto's glance assessed Neal in a matter of seconds.

And he couldn't help the shiver that ran down his spine. He knew instantly that he would have to be way more careful in dealing with Rome again, as he doubted he could hide much from the Vatican Inspector. If even a tenth of what he'd heard about Ernesto Olivetti was true, the man had changed security procedures in the tiny City State, beyond all recognition. Sneaking in and out for the purposes of allegedly removing and replacing items, was going to be a whole hell of a lot harder than it used to be.

But then again, he'd always enjoyed a challenge.

"This is my CI, Neal Caffrey." Peter introduced him innocently.

"Neal Caffrey, rinomato ladro d'arte?" he asked, seeming surprised.

Neal had the distinct feeling that things were about to go horribly South.

"Allegedly." He gave the Inspector his best 'timidly innocent little boy lost in the big bad world' smile.

"Good. I have a warrant for your arrest." He pulled the necessary papers from his inside jacket pocket, and handed them to Peter. "Neal Caffrey, you are under arrest for stealing St. Jerome in the Wilderness from the Vatican Museums. You will be extradited to the Holy See to stand trial for theft and the transportation of illegal goods over the Vatican Border."

"Hey!!" He backed up, hands in the air. "That painting was recently recovered, by our team I might add, from the home of Gregory Stillson! You should totally talk to him about where he got it."

Ernesto pulled out his handcuffs, flicked them open, and stepped toward Neal, taking his arm and turning him around, fast and hard, slamming him face first over the desk. "That will be for the courts to assess at your trial. I suggest you get yourself a good Attorney, Mr. Caffrey. You're going to need it."

"Peter!" Neal looked imploringly at his Mate, as he felt the cuffs close in tight around his wrists. "Do something!?" He was utterly horrified.

Special Agent Burke looked down at the documents then up at his Mate, shrugging helplessly. "It's the Vatican, Neal. It's all in order."

The Inspector took him by the collar and stood him up again. "Further counts may be added to your indictment."

"Aren't you going to read me my Rights?" He looked back over his shoulder, ridiculously stupefied at finding the Inspector grinning broadly.

"Did you get a picture?" Ernesto asked, as he unhooked the handcuffs and stepped back. "Make sure to send it to Nico and add Da Vinci too. He's going to get that one framed."

Peter chuckled as he sent the photos he'd just snapped, onward to all those who would best appreciate them.

Neal rubbed his wrists, glaring at both his Mate and the Inspector. "Haha!" he growled, deadpan.

"It is an honor to meet the great Raphael Santi. I am aware of what you did for Rome and for the Vatican, and wish to thank you for your help That Night." Ernesto gave him a respectful nod, that was most courteously returned. "But if you should ever set foot on Vatican soil again, I'll have my Swiss Guards on your arse in seconds."

"I can see why Uncle Nico likes you so much." Raphael held out his hands, palms up. "Aurelius."

"Ernesto." He took the hands that were offered, and they each kissed the other on both cheeks. When he stepped back, he checked for his wallet, and then made sure his watch was still on his wrist. "Leonardo dice che sei un ladro piccolo bastardo."

"Presumibilmente!" Neal smiled innocently. "Besides, Leo is just jealous I have more rooms in the Vatican named after me." He smoothed down his suit, still slightly nervous around the Inspector. "Are you staying long in New York?"

"A few days. Once I secure the St. Jerome at last, and have it prepped to send back to the Vatican Archive, I shall be spending some downtime with my Mate."

"Then we should take you for dinner!"

"El would love to meet you and your Mate." Peter nodded brightly in agreement. "Did you both come?"

Ernesto glanced over his shoulder, gave a quick nod then turned back to the two men. "Dinner would be welcome. Thank you for the invitation."

Andrew Kiernan stepped from the shadows out in the lobby near the elevators.

He hadn't been entirely sure what his Mate was up to, but it had been thoroughly entertaining watching Santi get handcuffed. It really shouldn't be that much of a turn on, watching Ernesto get physical with a suspect, but it was.

He opened the doors to the department, and moved to stand next to his Mate.

"Kiernan?" Neal gawped at the Priest, who at that moment was definitely out of his collar, wearing just simple jeans and a button down shirt. "Oh, I want to hear that story."

"And I want to hear how you got the St. Jerome out of the Museum," Ernesto countered, frowning.

"Do I get immunity?" Caffrey negotiated with a teasing grin.

"This time only." Olivetti gave him a pointed look. "And I wasn't kidding about the Swiss Guards."

"That I have no doubt." Raphael grabbed his hat off his desk, and flipped it onto his head. "Shall we?"

"Paperwork can wait!" Peter dashed quickly up to his office to get his suit jacket and rain coat, turning out the lights as he went. "I'll make sure El knows we have company…" He glanced down at his phone to see El was calling him first. "Hi, honey!"

'Who's the cute guy arresting Neal?'

"Ernesto Olivetti. He's Inspector General of the Vatican Police." Peter glanced over at Neal. "I convinced him not extradite our resident art thief to the Holy See."

'Ah! You fought for our love! Honey, that's so sweet. I'm sure Neal will reward you later tonight, where I can watch.'

"I'm bringing guests for dinner." He blushed slightly, imagining exactly what their Mate could reward him with.

The man had gifted hands, that was for damn sure.

'Is it the cute Inspector? I'll make Italian!'

"Honey…?" She hung up before he could convince her that Italians probably got Italian all the time. "She's expecting you," he said jovially, trotting back down the stairs. "Hope you like Italian."

"Love it," Kiernan deadpanned.

"That is not right coming from a Priest!" Neal stared at Kiernan with a mixture of shock and glee. He was happy to see Andrew smiling and contented, but it was a bit of a surprise after so many years. "And you say I'm a bad influence?"

"You never once broke into a Museum wearing a Cassock?" Kiernan just gave Neal a significant stare. "And if I recall correctly, you are overdue for Confession."

Peter looked from one to the other of them, a confused expression on his face.

"Forgive our rudeness," he apologized. "My name is Monseigneur Andrew Kiernan. I work as part of The Congregation for the Causes of Saints." Andrew held out his hand to Peter for a proper introduction. "When we're away from the Vatican I don't wear my uniform."

"And I apologize in advance for anything my wife will ask, and my Mate will try and steal." Peter just chuckled as he gestured for them to leave, still getting his head around having recently discovered that Neal was actually a good Catholic boy who snuck off to Mass once a week.

"He's good for you," Andrew murmured, hanging back with Aurelius a moment. "Really."

"Yes he is." He smiled softly. "They both are. They're a blessing I did nothing to deserve," he admitted.

"Oh, but you did, my old friend. Don't you remember?" Andrew patted his shoulder as they followed their Mates.


~ Sylum Manor: Conference Room ~


Since they had gotten home, the twins hadn't left their side.

Speed sat at the conference table, with Elizabeth curled up in his lap, while Horatio had Sean in his, the toddler refusing to relinquish the Koala that Uncle Terry had bought for him.

"They are so adorable." Terry smiled at the two of them from the video conference screen.

"The kids are cute too," Dino added with a smirk. "So it's good to be home?"

"Felt like I hadn't seen my own bed in months." Speed shifted Elizabeth slightly, her legs falling over the edge of the chair. He had no idea how she was comfortable. "Wait, I haven't!"

Horatio leaned over and took Speed's hand, giving it a squeeze. "We're taking a vacation to Ireland at the start of the New Year, and figured you two could join us."

"You just want babysitters." Dino gave his brother a knowing wink. "But that's okay, 'cause we have two youngsters here too, who would gladly help out."

"Speak for yourself old man!"

Terry laughed before turning to wave at the figure lurking behind him. "Henry! Come here! Introduce yourself to Uncle Dino's older brother."

Since Tony Stark picked Henry Thorne up out of the desert, many things had changed for the young Airman. The Ministry of Defense in Whitehall, had declared him officially dead, and as such, he no longer existed, which was as awkward as it was shocking. He really hadn't been sure how to handle that at first, but after spending two years as a prisoner of the Ten Rings, he really didn't want to go back to England to answer questions. It would've been way too much to handle.

Instead he'd sat down with Aragorn - whose own existence had been another shock to his system - and a few of the Medjai Hunters to describe in detail exactly where he'd been, what the Ten Rings were stockpiling, and supply as full a description of the men he'd come in contact with, as he could possibly remember. And he remembered a lot.

He was able to look at maps the Medjai produced, which were more extensive in their detail of desert terrain than anything else he had ever seen of the area, and with their help was able to pinpoint many locations used by the various Cells attached to the Ten Rings organization. He'd also been able to put a pretty good list together of the weaponry he'd seen them both use and steal.

Everything he accumulated, he sent to Tony Stark, knowing the man would make good use of it.

Henry had finally let himself cry when his Dad's strong arms were wrapped around him; pouring it out, all of it, blessedly safe enough to just let it go.

He didn't remember much of what happened after that, just waking up still held in his Dad's arms, Uncle Dino not too far away, sitting in a chair, watching over them.

He'd sat up and wiped his face, only to pause when he recognized another familiar face, there in the doorway.

Chris Burnett, the cocky as hell American pilot he'd flown with on the mission to Hamunaptra.

The moment their eyes locked, he remembered what passed between them.

Chris had told him before they flew, that they were Mates.

"You still owe me a beer," he said shyly.

And Henry had just laughed.

After that, they had slowly started working out their relationship, taking it steady, getting to know one another, in between Henry trying to figure out what to do with his life.

Or rather, his undead life.

"I might get used to that one day." He blinked when he saw Horatio.

"It takes a while, but you get used to seeing doubles, or even triples in some cases." Speed couldn't believe how much Henry looked like his father, who in turn held an even more uncanny resemblance to Jack Aubrey.

He chuckled. "Are those the twins I've seen a thousand pictures of? Dad's not stopped talking about them either!"

"I see the proud Uncle has been at work." H glanced across at his brother.

"I have a duty as the younger sibling, to promote the cuteness to all." Dino showed no shame.

Terry shook his head. "We'll be staying with the Medjai for a while."

"Make sure Henry and Chris here settle in," Dino added.

"Speak for yourself! A trip to Ireland sounds nice." Henry glared at the pair of them. "We've been looking for a romantic spot."

"Did not need to hear that," Terry groaned, his head dropping down.

"It's less than what I heard between you and Uncle Dino last night." Henry rolled his eyes. "So let us know when you're going, and we'll all show up. I promise."

Speed chuckled at the snarking between father and son. "We'll talk to you before that. There's Thanksgiving and Christmas coming up. Plus the annual 'Tie Dad To Mom So He's Not Kidnapped' celebration. It's a new tradition, but it seems to be working."

"Might want to try that out yourself, mate." Terry gave Speed a meaningful stare. "You're just as bad as Nick."

"I am not!"

Horatio sighed and gazed sideways at his Mate.

"Wait? Didn't I first meet you while rescuing you from being kidnapped?" Dino tapped his finger on his chin, pretending to ponder deeply. "I do recall that moment pretty well."

"And we were just in New Orleans because…?" Terry muttered. "I forgot again. What was it?"

Speed just glared at all of them.

Horatio leaned over and gave his Mate a kiss on the cheek, murmuring in his ear, "By the way… You should ask Dino about Ellis."

Speed looked at him with a confused expression.

H gave him a reassuring smile, then dropped a kiss on Elizabeth's sleepy head. "It's okay, I swear."

Timothy trusted his Mate, "So Dino? You knew Ellis?"

"SONOFABITCH!" Dino glared at his brother in horror. "You went and told him I had an affair with her?"

"WHAT?!"

Dino paused, looking around hastily. "Oh! Look! Time's up! Gotta go!" And with that he clicked off the video conference call.

Speed stared at the blank screen.

He blinked a few times.

He opened his mouth.

He closed it again.

Then he looked over at his Mate. "Really?" he demanded. "What are the odds that your brother would sleep with my sister?"

"About as good as Nick's daughter sleeping with Van Helsing's son."

"God, this family is so fucked up!" He rolled his eyes in exasperation.

Horatio laughed as he stood up, shifting Sean, the boy a dead weight in his arms. "Yeah, but it's our family."


~ Sylum Manor: Rose Gardens ~


Nico held his cell phone to his ear as he wandered through the winter roses.

Though it had been almost two years since Egypt, he still preferred to be in wide open spaces, with fresh air on his face, and he figured that might be a trait he never really lost, given the sum total of his experiences.

'How are you doing?'

He had just called Jed Bartlet, to congratulate him on winning his Second Term as President of the United States. Not that he'd had much competition after the story broke that Stillson had lied about the Mutants, and the investigation into his connections with Gen-Cris Pharmaceutical, and Crimson International.

The Republican Party Candidate was pretty much done after all that, and facing charges of handling stolen goods as well.

The Vatican were more than happy to get their painting back, and made their joy known to anyone who asked.

And there were many who asked.

The fact that Peter Petrelli had resigned from the Vice-Presidential Candidacy as well as the Republican Party, stating that he could not, in all good conscience stand by a man who was insane, or work a moment longer for the party that voted him in, said volumes too about his integrity and moral courage in Washington.

He had been the one to give the FBI access to the campaign's paperwork, and money raising, strategizing and meeting schedules, handing the most damning material specifically to Special Agent Peter Burke of the White Collar Crime Division.

Gregory Stillson had however, disappeared.

Never to be seen again.

Connor MacManus and Johnny Smith had made sure of that, but he wasn't exactly going to be telling the President of the United States such things.

Still, it had been nice to see Johnny actually smiling in contentment for once.

"I'm doing fine. I've started liking the chill a bit too much I think. How is Abbey handling the idea of another four years?" he asked, knowing Warrick was watching him from the house.

'She's there,' Jed answered with a chuckle. 'Mostly. Oh, and Sam is leaving us.'

"I heard he was going for that seat in Orange County where the dead guy got elected. That was remarkable, but how's that going to work now?" Nico paused on the path, smiling when he saw Sam and Dean by the Meridius Family Tree.

They had just arrived at the Manor that morning.

Gerard was still mightily pissed about their upcoming lack of free time to hunt down criminals, but at the same instant he was also proud of both of them for going back to school. He was going to give them special status, to be contacted on an emergency basis for things that might be in their immediate area, which would enable them to keep their pay up, on the theory that they would return to being as full US Marshals once they graduated.

Sam Gerard was smart enough to figure he'd be fighting Tony Stark on that one.

Sooner or later.

But Nicolaus wasn't sure who'd win.

Warrick had already opened a book on that one.

'I have no idea,' the President answered honestly. 'It's California. Anything can and will happen. So, do I want to know what's happened to my former opponent?'

"No, Mr. President. You don't."

'I trust you on that, Nicolaus.' Jed's voice held soft, yet great conviction, and Nico knew that the man understood far more than he ever let on.

"Thank you."

'Now, about the Inauguration. I would like for you and Warrick to be there, along with your kids. This isn't a request, Nico. We've been through a lot, and I would like to have you at my side as a friend through the next few years too.'

"I would be deeply honored, Mr. President."

'Good. And tell Maximus that he can't weasel his way out of coming. If need be, tell him Caesar requests his presence.'

There was a long silent pause on the phone.

'Yes, I figured it out. It took a while, but I know now.'

Nicolaus wasn't sure at that moment whether he was hearing Josiah Edward Bartlet, President of the United States, or Marcus Aurelius Antoninus Augustus, Emperor of Rome.

"You need to talk to him." Nico looked up from his wanderings to see Warrick standing on the porch. He frowned at the significant glances he was getting, and the emotion he was feeling come at him through the Bond. "I hate to cut this short right now, but something has come up. Please, talk to Maximus."

'Oh, I will. Something tells me we ought to have spoken about this much sooner. And I understand if you have to go. Believe me, I understand.' There was enough dry humor in his voice to make the point.

"I don't doubt that. Goodnight to you, Mr. President."

Nicolaus hung up the phone and slipped it into his pocket, without taking his eyes off Warrick. "What's happened?"

"I think it's time we dealt with the spy issue." His Mate motioned him into the house. "Someone's waiting for you in your office."

He nodded, moving through the kitchen, and up the small back staircase that lead directly to his rooms.

It didn't surprise him to find Tony, Jethro, Horatio, Speed and Thomas waiting for him when he arrived.

They had known there was a spy in their midst ever since his kidnapping, and suspicions on who it might prove to be, had surfaced a few months after they brought their Clan Leader home from Egypt. Their Ruling Council was made up of various Crime Scene and Forensic Investigators who were immensely good, and immensely diligent at their work, and they'd set about searching for evidence that would prove conclusively, the very existence of so treacherous a person in their number.

The proof however, had been highly elusive.

And they had been hesitant to act, due to the suspect having a Mate, who was most likely as not, unaware.

Nicolaus nodded at his family, and then stepped into his office.

He wasn't surprised by who was sitting in front of his desk.

He motioned for Warrick to follow him, while the rest of them fanned out around the room, close enough to intervene, but allowing enough space to make the person feel comfortable.

Nico slid into his chair, and studied the man in front of him.

"Thank you for coming." He smiled in acknowledgement.

"Nick." Peter Caine nodded around the room, acknowledging those also present. "I wasn't sure how to approach this, but figured I might as well just do it."

"I appreciate candor."

"Kermit wanted to come to you himself, but we both realized pretty fast that everything was looking like it was him who betrayed you. Now I know you and my Mate have had your differences, but I know Kermit. As his Mate, it's my duty and my honor, and my joy to know him better than anyone. And he would never betray those he has sworn loyalty to. Ever. I stake my life on it."

"I've talked with Takamori and with Arthur Pendragon, and have been assured by both of them that Kermit isn't betraying me. As men also of the greatest honor, I trust their judgment. Not that I didn't already know Kermit was innocent, but it was good to have my instincts affirmed," Nicolaus assured him.

"More importantly," Speed spoke up, as he moved closer to Warrick, "he would never do anything to jeopardize his Mate. We each stake our lives on the other, Peter. Always."

Nico nodded. He had received several calls in recent days, over concern at how the evidence was starting to mount. Hearing Takamori assure him most succinctly that he would easily have both Kermit and Peter as Hunters for his Clan had been strong recommendation for their personal integrity.

Arthur had told him how Kermit called him up out of the blue, and started asking some very subtle questions about a few of Sylum's members. It hadn't taken him long to recognize a play for rationalization when he heard one, but he'd also seen how the circumstances could lead to others thinking it was Kermit who was the guilty party.

That he, as Leader of Camelot Clan had sworn to uphold the man's good name before Nicolaus should the moment arise, was proof enough, that Kermit had not committed any kind of betrayal.

Peter visibly relaxed. "We came back here, hoping that if it looked like it was Kermit, he could sneak in closer to the real spy and find out who it actually was…"

"We know who it is." Tony spoke up most decisively.

"I got that. But it's worse than you think." Peter sighed, slumping back in his chair. "Kermit has evidence to prove who gave Meela, Nico's scheduling information from Vegas. His movements, work hours, travel information. It's all damning, but Kermit just had a feeling there was more, and he was right. There was."

"Where is Kermit?" Nico asked, concerned.

"Doing what I do best." The man himself stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

He gave a brisk nod at Thomas, who was guarding the door on the inside.

Then at Horatio and Jethro, who were across from where Thomas stood, and acting as a second line of defense.

Kermit looked over at Nico and grinned. "Good boy! You're learning."

Nicolaus raised an unamused eyebrow. "As much as I would love to say this was a social call…"

"…it's not. I'm sorry my friend." Griffin nodded at Tony and Speed, who both flanked Nico and Warrick respectively. They were the third line of defense in the room. "As I told you, when I heard you were betrayed, my heart sunk knowing I was not here for you."

"You needed that time with Peter, and I know we needed our cooling off period," Sylum's Clan Leader chuckled darkly.

The two were dear friends, but they also got on each other's nerves far too easily to be totally comfortable with one another on a daily basis.

Kermit chuckled too, but his humor was short lived.

Pulling out a pocket-sized voice recorder, he set it on Nico's desk.

"I recorded this a few days ago. I needed to verify some information, before bringing it to you." He sighed. "I am sorry. I wish I had known sooner."

He clicked play…


~ Flashback to Contents of Recording ~


"Kermit!"

"Hey, Joe."

Kermit strode casually into Empire Records, looking around the store with more than a little envy. He grinned at the music posters and memorabilia displayed everywhere, highlighting every type of music, from almost every era, one way or another. There was even a coffee shop in the back, with extra tables for the local kids to study and hang out.

Joe had made a safe place for youth at risk, and Kermit could respect him for that.

"Very cool, man! Wish they had a place like this when I was growing up!" he laughed.

"So do I!" He waved, as he worked through the cash registers, closing out for the night. "Not seen you in ages. What brings you by?"

Kermit looked around the store, taking note of some CDs that caught his eye, then he glanced back at the door. "Say, where's Lucas?"

"Classes 'til ten. We're dead in the water today, so I sent the staff home. Thought I'd lock up early and head out to pick him up."

"Good." He leant against the counter. "I've been approached. They said I should talk to you."

Joe stopped what he was doing, but refused to look up at him. "I'm not sure I'm following you."

"Stillson."

That got a reaction.

Reaves held up his hand, getting Kermit to stop talking.

He then proceeded to finish up what he was doing, close the registers and grab the bank deposits in double-quick time.

After that, he motioned for Kermit to follow him into the back office.

He put the cash bag and deposit slips in the safe, closed it, and then slumped into his chair behind his desk, grabbing a bottle of whiskey from the bottom drawer, along with two glasses.

He made sure they both had a drink before saying anything further.

"What did he say? Stillson?"

"That you know what I'm feeling." Kermit downed the whiskey in one, gasping as it burned his throat nicely. "Oh, that's better!"

Joe chuckled knowingly. "I had no intention of giving him jack shit at first, but it slipped about Toby's kids and that Ellis chick. I had no idea he was already planning to kidnap them, or all that other shit would go down. But it wasn't like I could stop it." Joe gulped his own drink and poured another. "I wasn't happy about how I was Turned, and suddenly everyone was so concerned for her? I mean, what the hell? She swans into everyone's lives after years away and gets welcomed back like the prodigal kid? She fucked up at her damn job, got her ass in trouble and everyone's falling over themselves to take of her? No one cared that Maximus Turned me without Consent."

"Look, man. I'm a mercenary, that's what I do, so I get the thin grey line we all live in. Y'know?" Kermit reached over and poured himself another drink too. "It's all a matter of degrees? Right? I mean, I may have said a few things about Nick to Stillson, while I was pissed. And now he's using that against me…"

"Yeah, Stillson's a total asshole. Not shocking! He showed up six months later, going on about how I worked for him after all that, and if I just told him small things, like what was going on with the search for him, then he'd make sure Speedy wouldn't find out about my accidental slip over Ellis being at the Manor." He leaned back in his chair with a sigh. "I found out Nick was going to Speed's for Thanksgiving. Some big family thing but we weren't invited. Lucas is Speed's kid, but not Nico's so that us left high and dry here, with our thumbs up our asses."

He paused for a few seconds.

"So I told him Nick's schedule in Vegas, and when he was supposed to show up in Miami. I guess he told Meela." Joe shrugged and made a tutting sound with his tongue. "I couldn't believe the whole Vampire Community went that nuts over Nick! He's just one dude! And not a very bright one either. Him and his kids have no idea what the real world is like, or how hard it is."

Kermit snorted. "Yeah, he was a bit hypocritical when it came to my Mate. He got away with destroying a whole town when his was killed."

"Yeah, well Nick is an asshole. And now he's got that new kid. Heard about him? The cute little Italian who thinks he's a hot shot Inspector, or some shit? And everyone is concerned for Dean? Okay he's good guy, I'll give him that. Knows his music. But they're all concerned about his Turning, and went after Balthazar like it was war, but no one went after Maximus for me!"

"Any ideas on how I should handle Stillson?"

"Honestly? Who cares?" Joe leaned forward and looked Kermit in the eye. "You think Nick cares about you? He doesn't. Tell Stillson what he wants to know, and screw it. I've told him loads of things in the past, and he's always wanting more. Not a surprise he found you."

"Like what? What did you tell him?"

"Elizabeth…" Joe poured some more scotch, and downed it fast, letting out a satisfied sigh. "Cute kid 'n' all that, but there's a reason everyone's so protective of her."

"Well, she and her brother were kidnapped when they were a few weeks old! Which is wrong, man! They're just babies." Kermit shook his head. "Babies aren't meant to be used like that."

"Well if Ripper ever found out the truth, he'd use her a lot worse than that, I can tell you. Elizabeth is Ellis. That's like the biggest secret ever, in their book! Ray Caine would be the least of their worries if he comes after her. And you know he will." Joe snorted. "I guarantee you that information was worth every penny."


***


"Stop it!" Timothy growled. "Stop it, now!"

He turned and slammed his fist into the wall.

"Fucking sonofabitch! Feicfidh mé a mharú dó féin!"

Horatio shook with anger and fear, unable to decide if he should take Speed and the kids and go hide someplace, or go kill Joe himself.

Either way, he wasn't sure his legs would carry him very far at that precise moment.

"Nicolaus?" Antonio looked down at his father.

"I would have forgiven him if it was just me he betrayed." Sylum's Clan Leader took a deep breath and stood up from his seat. "I think we all would have. No one is perfect."

"This can't be excused!" Antonio drew his shoulders back, as justifiably outraged as they all were. "I know Lucas is an innocent in this, but his Mate just sold our greatest secret to our greatest enemy!"

Nico looked at Timothy, who could not look up at them.

He just nodded, rubbing his knuckles, boiling with a fury that was tinged with terror and despair.

Nicolaus felt Warrick's support through the strong squeeze to his shoulder and the love that rang so firmly across their Bond. "For crimes against Sylum Clan, Joseph Reaves has forfeited his life and that of his Mate. Having already contacted the Council earlier to discuss possible outcomes from every scenario in this mess, I was cleared to deal with the situation in whatever way we deem fit. I hereby take the decision for punishment from all of you. And I do it freely. Let it not burden your Souls. This is my doing, and I will contact Imenand to inform him of judgment."

Kermit looked at him in utter shock, frozen to his chair.

"Joe had been on our radar for a while, given that there were only a handful of people who knew the details of my schedule. Lucas was one of them. He had been invited to come to Miami with us, but wanted to surprise Joe with a private vacation for the two of them. Timothy had told him our schedules so he could keep in contact over the holidays," Nico informed him. "We had no real evidence, and we were able to look away for the sake of Lucas. But this we cannot tolerate. This has risked an innocent life."

"So what happens now?" Peter asked quietly.

Nicolaus held Antonio's gaze. "Carry it out."

Crisafi nodded, his jaw set, his back rigid.

He left the room on stiff legs, Jethro barely a step behind him.

Nico then moved in front of his other boy.

Taking his hands in his he murmured, "I'm sorry it comes to this."

Timothy shook his head. "Don't be." It took some considerable effort for him to raise his eyes and look his Father in the face, but he did it any way. "This isn't your fault. It's not Max's fault. Not mine. Not Lucas. Not even Ellis. Joe did this. And I will never forgive him for it."

"Go." Nico kissed him on both cheeks. "Talk to Lucas. Only you can."

Timothy nodded, wiping the tears from his eyes.

He understood.

As he walked to the door, so Thomas opened them for him. "He is a strong Quinn. Ellis returned to us so quickly, that I have no doubt he will also."

Thomas held him tight for a moment, and then let him go, patting him between the shoulders.

Horatio felt numb, as he and Speed made their way down to the Underground, where Joe and Lucas kept a small apartment.

Lucas had been there most of the day, working on his studies, industrious about his qualifications and his classes.

Nico sat down heavily in his chair. "I have one more favor to ask of you my friend."

"Yes, my General." Kermit answered him with ease, hearing the Roman so very few had ever faced and lived to tell of.

"Joe was likely not the only one. There is another. Maybe more. I have no doubt Galileo has someone else in my midst far cleverer than Joe." He looked over at Kermit who just nodded, following his reasoning. "I need you to swear your loyalty to Shogun, removing yourself from Sylum. I need you to make it look like you're utterly pissed that I have done this to Joe and Lucas. I need you to go deep, and find out who amongst the Vampire Community is working for the Illuminati. I will personally supply you with information you can feed to potential sources. Do not ask where it comes from."

Kermit nodded slowly.

"I know it's a lot to ask, especially you, Peter." Nico glanced over at the younger man, catching his tight-lipped stare. "But, we have a chance here now, and you're in a good position to take it."

Kermit looked over at his Mate, who just gave him a curt but accepting nod.

"We'll do it."


***


Nicolaus sat quietly in his office for a few moments, his mind racing with everything that had just transpired, and contemplating all that would take place in the next hour.

Kermit and Peter had left, both needing to talk and be with the other, plotting a strategy through their new assignment.

"Thomas?"

"Yes, Sir?"

His faithful friend was still standing studiously by the door.

"Make sure Timothy has whatever support he needs in the next few hours. I have to make some phone calls, and I do not want either him or Horatio left alone."

"Of course, Sir. I shall find Mistresses Alexx and Abby. Master Timothy will need his family. I will also send Artemus to Giles. He too should be aware of what is happening."

Nico nodded in total agreement. "He should know what to expect. The two are good friends."

"Yes, Sir." Thomas took a moment to compose himself before leaving the room.

The burning anger that coursed through his own veins would have to be dealt with soon enough. Ellis had been the last of his family, and she had been used beyond reason, even in death. It made him feel physically sick to think about it, but for the moment, he still had work to do.

Mourning would come later, when his Mate could hold him, and he could let go his tears.

"Warrick? Find Sam and Dean." Nico didn't even glance at his Mate as he picked up the phone to make the first of what would be a few very difficult phone calls.

He knew Warrick would follow his lead.

And he adored him for his silence.

Somehow it felt like words were just too much.

'Nicolaus? It's late. This cannot possibly signal good news.' Imenand sounded tired, but determined. 'What is it, General?'

"A spy has been found. I have ordered his execution." He heard the door open and close as Warrick went to as he was asked.

'Is the evidence solid?'

It was asked for the sake of formality, and not as a query to doubt.

"There is a recording. It will be sent priority, and marked for your eyes only." He paused, biting back the rush of his own emotions. There was too much for him to do, to have a nervous breakdown yet, but maybe some sparring with Timothy later on would allow them to get their aggression out, and settle their Souls. "Joe Reaves didn't just betray me, but also told Stillson that Elizabeth has the Soul of Ellis Cochrane."

'Fucking hell fire!'

"That about sums it up." Nicolaus had to smirk slightly.

It was all so utterly incongruous hearing Imenand's vocabulary lately.

'Forgive the expletives, Nico. Who is carrying out the sentence?'

"Antonio." In the past two years he had seen so much more of the true Templar Knight, resurgent in his son.

He himself, wasn't the only one who to have been changed by events in Egypt.

'And Timothy?' Imenand's voice dropped in concern. 'He has been through so much these past years. I cannot imagine the fear for his daughter, while at the same time losing a son.'

"Family is by his side." He would personally ship Speed off to Camelot to talk to Patrick if he had to, once all was said and done, even if that meant Horatio learning about what really happened That Night.

'Your family is strong, Nicolaus. Every day they do you proud. After the New Year, I will expect to see you at the Council for a full debriefing on this.'

"Of course. I'll make arrangements." He said his goodbyes and hung up the phone.

Sam and Dean were stood in front of his desk a moment later, both silent yet clearly concerned.

"This is an official order."

The brothers straightened up simultaneously.

"I need you to keep an eye on Elizabeth and Sean. I need you to keep your ears out for any murmuring about either of them." He hadn't planned on telling Dean who Elizabeth really was, but if there was anyone outside of the previous issue with Ellis, who would lay his life down to protect her, it was him.

"Is Raymond threatening again?" Sam asked.

Dean just stared at Nico for a few moments. "Worse. It's Jack the Ripper."

Sam, Warrick and Nicolaus all looked at him in stunned surprise, hearing him voice his instincts with the worst possible timing.

"What?" he shrugged. "I heard talk about Ellis. It wasn't hard to find out how she was Turned and how she died. More people know that story than you think. With the protection racket you got goin' on for Elizabeth anyway, it wasn't hard to figure out. But I'm also close to the source. I'm not sure if some random Rogue would just stumbled on it and figure it out."

"Information concerning Elizabeth's status with regard to Ellis, was sold to Gregory Stillson. We have yet to assess how far that has gone in the timeframe we're aware of," Warrick informed them.

"Fuck!" Dean cursed, a low growl in his throat. "Who did it?"

"Joe."

Dean stared at him for a few moments, processing that particular kick to the groin, before turning and walking away.

Sam caught him fast before he could get too far, grabbing his arm. "Dean!"

"No, Sam! I don't give a shit! He sat there and held her. He talked Metallica with me, acting like he fucking cared…" Dean shook his head. "I'll kill him myself."

"His sentence has been issued, and is already being carried out." Nicolaus stood up, watching the boys both turn back to him. "We do not know for sure if Stillson moved the information forward. But there is no room to allow for the benefit of the doubt, and given that I have it on excellent authority that the former Senator is currently so much dust in a housekeeper's vacuum cleaner right now, he is unable to explain his side of the matter."

"I'll protect her with my life." Dean swore as though he'd made a promise cast in blood, then stalked away with Sam at his heels.

They were heading for the Nursery.

"I think Elizabeth's going to have a hard time dating when she gets older," Warrick murmured.

And Nicolaus could only agree.

Warrick sighed as he took a seat across from his Mate's desk, the weariness of the past hour settling onto his shoulders. "Now what?"

"I need to call Benton, then Maximus," Nico replied, sitting back down. "I need Benton to talk to Johnny Smith about going through Stillson's things. It's going to suck for him, but he if he can read or pick up on anything at all that could help us figure this out, it's going to be worth the pain."

"That's not going to be easy for him, considering their history," Warrick pointed out carefully.

"No. No it's really not." He grabbed his phone and looked at it, running a thumb over his contact lists. "He's going to be pissed."

"We're all pissed," Warrick said bluntly.

"Where did I go wrong…?"

"Oh, hell no!" The Pirate flew out of his chair, and moved around the desk so fast, it felt more like he'd leapt across it. He tore the phone out of Nico's hand before taking him by the stubbornly set jaw, and forcing him to look up so they were eye to eye. "You will not take the blame on this."

"I'm not. Just… How did I not see it sooner?" He turned his head slightly, kissing Warrick's palm. "How do I find the others?"

"We will be more wary. They will slip up, just like Joe has. And we'll be ready to deal with it."

"In the meantime how much information is sold to Galileo? What if that bastard finds out about…?"

He couldn't even say it out loud.

The consequences of that alone were just too much to contemplate.

"We let Ernesto off his leash." Warrick grinned at Nico's wicked chuckle.

"I'm sure his kid would help too, especially given his history with Borgias." He reached over and took his phone from Warrick's hand. "I have to do this, can you call Benton?"

"Sure." He leaned over and kissed him softly, before standing up and pulling his own phone. "I'll be in the bedroom. It's quieter." He moved away, reluctant to leave his Mate, but knowing some things were better dealt with in privacy.

Nicolaus sighed once more as he dialed a private number, as equally familiar as the last one had been.

He stood up when the door closed again, moving across to the roaring fireplace, where he found himself staring hard into the heat. And his mind wandered to the many times in his life, when just the sight of roaring flame had influenced his decisions, his future, and his Clan.

Good and bad.

It was probably hearing Kermit's scoffs on that damn recording about what he'd done the night he lost Warren…

'Nick?' A very tired voice suddenly broke into his memories.

"Maximus Decimus Meridius."

There was a shuffle of bed clothes, and then the sound of a door opening and closing. 'Nicolaus. I'm here. What is it?'

"I've already talked to Imenand, but you needed to hear this from me, because you will feel it soon enough."

There was a sigh on the other end of the phone. 'So it was Joe.'

"We have him on recording." Nico stepped away from the fire and moved to the large window at the far end of the room, his eyes gliding over Warren's portrait.

He looked out over the Manor grounds, focusing on the Family Tree of the Meridii.

'When is it to happen?'

"Antonio left about an hour ago." He had no doubt the sentence would be carried out as fast as possible.

There was no point in lingering over it.

After he talked with Maximus, he would go to Timothy's rooms and be there for his son.

Later they would arrange to bury Lucas.

And Joe would be left for the street sweepers.

'What of his Mate?' Maximus asked, anger and regret seeping into his voice. 'I Turned the bastard to save Lucas from pain, and he does this and kills him?'

"He wasn't thinking of Lucas. He figured it would be his Mate's connection to Timothy that would save him. And he was right. It would have." Nicolaus looked up to see Warrick once again at the doorway.

He gave a quick nod.

They would talk later, and he would make sure to call Benton the next day too.

He owed a personal apology to Johnny Smith for what he was asking him to do.

'But?' Max asked, with a sense of trepidation. 'What has he done to cause you to take Lucas?'

"He put the life of an innocent child at risk. Stillson knew who Elizabeth once was, and we do not know how far that knowledge goes."

There was a deep inhale, as Maximus found himself recalling the night he and Quintus had found Ellis in the Ninth Ward of New Orleans. 'Then damn him to hell. I will talk to you later. Make sure to call me.'

Nico hung up the phone and slipped into his pocket.

Warrick wrapped his arms around his Mate, and the two of them just stood together, under Warren's watchful gaze, staring out at the oldest Oak on the Manor grounds, whose roots ran far and deep across the land…


~ Empire Records ~


Joe was working on closing the registers.

Metallica was blasting on the speakers, the base note sending a pleasant vibration through the building.

He had sent the staff home about an hour before, and all that was left was for him was to make the deposit slips up, and head home to Lucas. It hadn't been a bad day's work.

Not really.

Thanksgiving wasn't far off, and the two of them had decided to go away like they had the previous years. It had started to become a tradition after Lucas surprised him with a short trip back in 2006, which of course had been ruined when Nick got his ass kidnapped.

The next year Joe had surprised Lucas, and that one had gone off great.

And he was aiming for a repeat performance.

Closing down the last counter, he turned around coming to a seriously startled stop.

Tony DiNozzo was standing in the middle of the store, watching him.

And he hadn't even heard the damn door open!

Hadn't he locked that already?

The guy just stood there, like a statue.

His charcoal gray suit was immaculate, not a winkle anywhere. And the black trench coat he wore over it, hung easily off his shoulders, and down his frame.

He wasn't the type normally found in such a store, or one who ever asked much about music, and Joe had no idea why he'd just be standing there like that, when the two of them had rarely talked.

He actually found the alleged Templar Knight to be more of a circus clown, and he never understood how someone like that could be Second in Command to the largest Clan of Vampires in the world.

At that exact moment though, Tony exuded a sense of menacing power.

And his eyes were utterly cold.


***


Timothy had every intention of going down to find Lucas straight away, but the urge to check on his children was just too strong.

So he stood in the Nursery, looking down at them, and was relieved that for once they were actually sleeping peacefully. Since getting back from New York, the little ones had found their way into their parents' bed during the night on a number of occasions, and it was only in the past few days they'd started sleeping longer and longer with each other and not getting up.

It wouldn't be long before they'd need to separate them into their own rooms altogether, but he had the distinct feeling that wasn't going to be easy.

He knew he couldn't linger forever like that, but had no idea how long he actually stood there.

When he turned around to leave, Dean was lurking in the doorway.

The Hunter just gave him a nod, and as Speed left the room he saw Sam checking things further out in the corridor, backing his brother.

His children were safe.

But not all of them…

Horatio was silent next to him.

He hadn't left his Mate's side since they'd heard the recording.

Their Bond vibrated with fear, anger, stubbornness, and yet such undying love that it was impossible for either of them to know where one's emotion ended and the other began.

They made their way to the Underground rooms, finding the common area had already been cleared out, which was weird. There was usually someone down there most times of the day.

Timothy didn't doubt the silence was all down to Thomas and Hillary.

Still it was eerie.

He made his way to the small apartment that had been allocated for Joe and Lucas, and knocked quietly on the door.

Horatio stepped back, knowing Speed needed to do things on his own, yet hating the reality of that fact.

The door opened to a familiar, smiling face. "Yo! Dad! What are you doing down here? Actually I could use you for my homework."

"We need to talk."


***


"We need to talk," Tony said easily, his eyes boring into Joe. "Turn the music off!"

The silence that fell was so brittle, it felt like one wrong move and the building might crack.

"You wanna talk?" Joe asked, tossing the stereo remote back on the counter. "What about?" he asked, stepping away from the registers, leaving the deposit slips and bags in full view.

"You, Joe."

He had never heard such an emotionless tone from DiNozzo before.

It gave him the creeps.

He wasn't sure what was going on, but he still found himself scoping out the exits.

Just in case…

"Did you think we wouldn't find out?" Tony asked, taking slow, purposeful steps closer. "Did you think you could get away with it?"

"I have no idea what the hell you're talking about." Joe pulled himself up to his full height.

He wasn't a small man, and he had been training in the past few years with some of Sylum's Hunters.

"Really?" Antonio stalked around the traitor. "You have no idea about the information you sold to Stillson? How does a man forget about that?"


***


Lucas looked at his ancestor as he stood in the living room.

He could read Speed's body language clear enough, and suddenly knew why he was there.

All those secrets.

Everything.

It had finally come to light.

"I had no idea how to tell you!" His voice cracked as he blurted it out, his expression changing to one of total devastation.

"You knew then?" Timothy looked at him, tears in his eyes. "You knew he sold out Ellis? Nicolaus? Little Elizabeth!?"

Lucas defended his Mate. It was what Mates did for one another. "He didn't mean to!"

"Didn't mean to?!" Speed stepped toward his kid. "I get Ellis. I do. That was a fuck up from start to finish. We're all guilty of that one. Stillson was a manipulative sonofabitch, and I would have gotten that too. Especially as Stillson is my fuck up! But Nico?"

"Stillson blackmailed him!" he yelled, panicked.

"Why didn't he come to any of us? Fine, he doesn't like Nicolaus, but he could have gone to Jethro, Van Helsing, Giles, Artemus, Lara… I can go on. Should I do that?" Speed's voice was filled with pain. "Why didn't you? Why didn't you come to me? Me, Lucas!"

"Because you would've killed him." Lucas began to wipe the way the tears.

"You think Nicolaus or I wouldn't have taken in consideration that Stillson was blackmailing him? You think so little of both of us you actually imagined we'd not investigate? Figure it out? Find a good way through the mess?" He stepped ever closer, taking Lucas by the arms and holding him still before he could back away. "And now, because you kept silent, I'm going to lose you."

"You just said you would take it into consideration…?" The boy's eyes widened in fear. "You said you… You said!"

"And we would have. We truly would have, if that was the only thing he did."


***


"I have no idea what you're talking a…" Joe stopped, catching his breath as he heard his own voice come over the speakers.

"Any ideas on how I should handle Stillson?"

"Honestly? Who cares? You think Nick cares about you? He doesn't. Tell Stillson what he wants to know, and screw it. I've told him loads of things in the past, and he's always wanting more. Not a surprise he found you."

"Like what? What did you tell him?"

"Elizabeth… Cute kid 'n' all that, but there's a reason everyone's so protective of her."

"Well, she and her brother were kidnapped when they were six weeks old! Which is wrong, man! They're just babies. Babies aren't meant to be used like that."

"Well if Ripper ever found out the truth, he'd use her a lot worse than that, I can tell you. Elizabeth is Ellis. That's like the biggest secret ever, in their book! Ray Caine would the least of their worries if he comes after her. And you know he will. I guarantee you that information was worth every penny."

"Joseph Reaves you have been found guilty of crimes against Sylum Clan. You have sold information to our Enemies. You have betrayed our Clan Leader. You remember him? He's the one you swore an oath of loyalty to. You have betrayed your Mate." Tony stood in front of him, pulling his Templar Sword from beneath his trench coat. "And you have betrayed an innocent child under Sylum's protection."

Joe backed up, trying to get away from Tony, only to stumble when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

He spun fast, realizing Jethro Gibbs was right behind him.

He hadn't heard him sneaking around either.

The Marine pulled his weapon, and pointed at the floor. "Kneel," he barked.

"You can't do this!" Joe looked from one to the other of them. "I demanded Council Sanctuary. Intervention! I want Council Intervention! I'm entitled!!"

"The Council has denied Sanctuary and granted Nicolaus permission to have the sentence carried out," Tony answered. "On your knees. Or, you can try and run, but don't expect to get far. There are Hunters outside the building."

"What about Lucas? Speed isn't going to take nicely to his kid being dusted!" Joe pulled the last card he had remaining to him.

There was simply no way the great Timothy Quinn would ever let them take the Soul of his only son.


***


"He wouldn't do that…! He wouldn't!" Lucas fell to his knees as tears poured down his cheeks. "Why would he betray a little baby?"

"I don't know," Speed whispered, falling beside him, pulling him into his arms.

He had his theories.

Looking back, he knew they should've let him go, and helped Lucas through the insanity. It would've been hell, but it would've saved so much heartache. Hindsight, was a fucking bitch.

Still, an interesting man he knew would likely have told him that God had a Hand in all things, despite the darkest moments of the Soul.

"I'm so sorry…" Lucas cried. "Forgive me, Papa!"

The hysterical tears flowed freely, and Speed knew he was sensing Joe's shock at being caught in his treachery.

"There is nothing to forgive, Mo Mhac." He kissed the top of his head, and held him close. "All you have to do is promise me you'll return."

"Please, don't do this! Please!"


***


Tony forced Joe to his knees.

"Killing me isn't going to stop anything," he sneered in defiance. "I'm just a nobody. There is someone with far more influence than me who will…"

Antonio swung the sword.

It was a single, perfect blow.

As the dust settled around him, he Crossed himself and looked heavenward. "May God have Mercy on your Soul."


***


Timothy barely noticed the door opening.

It wasn't until someone touched his shoulder that he shrugged away and looked up.

Thomas was there beside him, his hand held out.

"Let me collect the ashes, Master Timothy."

Too numb to do much of anything that involved thinking, he allowed himself to be stood upright.

A fine gray dust covered his once blue shirt and dark jeans.

Thomas reached over him, and began to unbutton his clothing, careful not to disturb the remains.

Speed let him do it.

With what he was wearing, safely removed and put into a bag, he shivered as Thomas slipped a robe around him, and escorted him out of the apartment into the waiting arms of his mother and sister.

As far as was practically possible, the remains would be reverently gathered, and then his clothes would be burned. Even his shoes and socks.

Alexx took her boy into her arms and held him close to her, letting her own tears fall when she felt Speed's arms wrap tightly around her waist.

They were soon joined by Abby, who twined herself around the both of them.

"Where's Horatio?" he asked softly.

"Making the funeral arrangements," Alexx assured him. "He needed to keep busy."

Speed nodded absently. Though he could feel the love and support from his Mate, he knew Horatio would need his own time and space to deal with everything; including figuring out how to boost Clan Security. It was how the redhead worked. Nothing would change that.

They led him out of the Underground, and back up to his rooms.

Alexx pulled off the robe and got him into the shower, then stripped out of her own clothes and slipped in under the water, right there behind her son, making sure that he was cleaned from head to foot. In her Soul she knew she was channeling the women she once was, who had bathed with her children in the river not far from her home in Eire, and in her own pain, so she felt her son's grief, and could do no more for him than be the mother she was, and always would be.

Abby picked out jogging pants and a t-shirt for him, and once they had gotten him dried they put him into bed.

Abby slipped off her shoes and crawled in under the blankets with him, wrapping her arms around her brother good and tight.

She would break down later, and grieve for Lucas as was only proper, but Timothy needed her first.

Alexx dressed quickly.

She had gotten the call from Thomas, who pulled no punches in telling her what was happening, and urging her to come be with her boy.

When she'd arrived, Jimmy had told her where to go.

She had rarely seen the Hunter so very angry.

Reaching up, she'd given him a quick kiss on the cheek.

Jimmy had blushed in response, but a small moment of light in the midst of that much dark bitterness, had softened his heart a touch. And he was immensely grateful for it.

The moment Alexx had seen her boy step out of that Underground apartment, looking haggard and pale, she knew she could easily have killed Joe herself for what he'd done to her family. And she was not by nature, a woman of violence.

Speed had been through enough in recent years, and her Soul cried out to his in anguish for the wont of comfort.

She startled when a hand settled on her shoulder, only to feel a strong sense of calm wash through her and still her fears.

Alexx looked over her shoulder to see her husband standing there, a knowing smile on his face. "When you fled in a rush like that, I knew exactly where to find you," he murmured, kissing her forehead then pulling her into his arms. "The kids are safe with their Aunt Lara. Let's watch over our other boy together, hmmm?"

"Thank you," she whispered, burying her head in his neck. "Thank you."

Ichabod tiptoed into the room, grabbing a chair to set down quietly next to the bed.

Speed wasn't asleep.

In fact he was barely moving, just staring up at the ceiling, unblinking.

Ichabod opened the book he'd brought with him, and began to read.

After the first two sentences, Timothy chuckled softly and finally spoke. "Really? You're giving me that?"

"It's how we met," he answered honestly, waving The Legend of Sleepy Hollow around, just for added emphasis.

Timothy sighed, settled into his sister's arms at last, and let the words simply flow over him.


~ St. Louis Cathedral ~


Jethro sat in the front pew, and watched as his Mate knelt at the Altar, on the rich, red carpeted steps.

Templar Sword point down in surrender, Antonio Crisafi placed his right hand on the hilt, bowed his head, and prayed in the silence.

Father Kevin appeared from the Sacristy, and settled next to the Knight, joining him in his devotions.

In the distance they could hear sirens.

Smoke was rising over the city, curling upward into the nighttime sky, as Empire Records was engulfed in flames.

Sylum would ensure that every employee had six months of severance pay, plus insurance. And Chosen Ones would step in to help them find new jobs.

Jethro nodded to himself, satisfied.

What was done, was done.

And there was an end.


~ Sylum Manor: Horatio and Timothy's Rooms ~


Speed shifted in the bed, not surprised to see Peter curled up in one of the chairs, with Alexx safely in his lap.

The two were talking softly, but keeping an eye on him.

Abby moved slightly to give him some room.

He sat up against the headboard, actually wanting nothing more at that moment than to have his Mate, his kids, and his Papa nearby.

Somewhere along the way, he'd lost track of time.

The door opened on a recently showered Tony, who wafted in wearing a pair of black silk pajamas.

He padded softly and carefully across the room as though not to disturb anyone, then jumped onto the bed like a five year old, bouncing everyone around.

Speed shoved him slightly, only to squeak as though he too were five years old, when Tony pulled him into his arms and hugged him tight enough to bruise his ribs.

Timothy returned such a meaningful embrace, grateful he didn't need to breathe, then pushed him away, pausing as his hand brushed over the seriously expensive clothes he was wearing. "Silk? Really?"

"I like the way it feels on my body." He gave his brother a sloppy grin.

"I like the way it falls on the floor," Jethro said simply, as he and Horatio entered the room.

"Is this a pajama party?" H asked, looking around at the gathered family.

While it was an awesome thing to see everyone so supporting, he had a feeling he wasn't getting any alone time with his Mate for a quite a while.

"I brought the cute!" Dean breezed through the still open door, carrying Elizabeth.

He was in simple pajama pants and a t-shirt, padding around on bare feet.

Laying the toddler on the bed, everyone watched her just flop over and land on her Papa's legs, not waking up in the slightest.

"How the hell does she do that?" Sam asked from just behind him.

He was wearing a nice set of blue pajamas that for once in his life fitted him nice and comfy, given his extremely long legs and his larger than normal build.

He was carrying Sean, whom he settled next to his sister.

"Dude! You should have seen you as a kid!" Dean smirked. "You would fall off the bed, and just lay there, butt in the air. I would toss a blanket over you and you were good to go." He found a spot on the bed near Abby, and settled down.

"Wow! Thanks for bring up my embarrassing childhood moments." Sam glared at his brother.

"I got more…! Like that time you refused to let Dad give you bath and streaked stark naked out of the apartment and down the street."

Sam hit him with a pillow.

"Hello! I was reading here." Ichabod looked up from his book giving the brothers a good hard stare.

Horatio slipped into the bathroom, shutting out the noise.

He looked in the mirror, wondering what he was doing so very wrong that he couldn't protect his own family.

With a sigh he ripped off his tie, and tossed it in the laundry basket.

His suit coat and shirt followed soon after.

He turned when the door opened and softly closed again.

Having extricated himself from the somewhat overwhelming press of too many people in his bedroom, Speed needed his Mate, and pulling him into a deep kiss, let him know exactly what he wanted.

Horatio moaned, pulling him closer, hefting him up onto the bathroom counter.

They were soon lost in each other, in the reassurance of touches longed for and returned; the feel of their Bond tightening and strengthening around them. Timothy tugged his Mate's boxer shorts down, taking hold of the rapidly hardening cock that jutted up at him. Stroking it firmly, back and forth, he focused all his energy on pleasing the redhead, and the lustful moan that escaped Horatio's mouth, had shivers running up his own spine.

His jogging pants were wiggled over his hips, Horatio's fingers wrapping around his own aching dick. He gasped, squirming forward.

They weren't going to last long, too wrapped up mutually pleasuring each other to care about how long it took to just let themselves feel.

But when they both came, slumping tiredly into each other's embrace, they were far more contented than they had been before.

"I think we need a shower," Horatio murmured, stripping them out of their more than slightly sweaty clothes.

Under the water, their touches were soft and caring, not meant to entice, just reassure.

'I love you' was whispered over and over.

It just seemed necessary.

When they were done, they dried off and found their own pajamas before contemplating rejoining the slumber party.

"I've arranged for the funeral tomorrow." Horatio held Tim close a moment longer. "Nicolaus sent out notice to the Clan, stating that we had lost one of our own."

"Anyone noticed we're only having a funeral for Lucas?" Speed asked, resting his head on his Mate's shoulder.

"If they ask, we'll just tell them the truth." He kissed the top if his hair. "By the way, I called Ernesto."

Speed stepped back, frowning. "Why?"

"The man protects the Pope! I figured if there's anyone knows whole new sneaky ways of protecting people, it's him. If I hadn't called, then he sure would have, since he sensed his Sire's distress." Horatio would tell Speed later, all the details of what they'd discussed, but the Inspector had some good ideas that would protect the twins but still allow them to have a life. "I don't want to lock them away, but we need to act as if the Ripper knows."

Speed nodded. "Already figured that one out. Remind me to ask Dad what's up with the Italian kid, because he's cool and pretty bad ass 'n' all, but this protection racket happening on both sides of their Childe and Sire Bond is a little extreme."

There was a knock on the door. "Can you two come out here and make sure Ichabod doesn't read Legend of Sleepy Hollow? Again!" It was Alexx. She couldn't take it any more.

Speed chuckled and strode from the bathroom, to see Tony ripping the book out of Ichabod's hands.

"Hey don't hurt the book!" he growled, pointing an accusing finger at his brother.

"Feel the love there," Ichabod snarked, rolling his eyes at his Sire.

"Move over!" Horatio pushed and wiggled his way onto his own bed, not surprised that the twins had flopped all over Dean.

That boy had 'protective mamma bear' written all over him.

Speed followed him between the sheets, curling up into his Mate's arms.

Sighing, he glanced around, only then realizing that his Papa was in the room.

Clad in sleep pants and an old LVPD t-shirt, Nico's feet were up on the far corner of the bed, as he snuggled down in one of the big old armchairs.

Warrick was on scatter cushions on the floor, his head resting on his Mate's thigh.

Speed smiled at them softly, as with thoughts of family swirling thickly about him, his eyes drifted closed.

He dreamt of Ireland.

Of loved ones.

Of home.

And in his ear, a familiar chuckle resounded loud and strong, as a whisper promised, 'I'll be back so fast, you'll hardly even know I was gone…'


~ Crimson Moon: Board Meeting ~


Victor Frankenstein sat at the head of the table, and looked out at his Board Members.

They were a few short, but there were enough Humans desperate enough for power and money, who would be easily manipulated for a seat amongst such luminaries.

"If I do so say myself, that whole Mutant thing worked out well." Victoria spoke up from further down the table, once more examining her nails. "Wayne Studios is putting out a now highly anticipated movie. I hear Kirk Lazarus is to star in it."

"Shut it, Victoria." Frankenstein warned her with a filthy glare.

"Stillson is dust. Magneto is on the run. The Mutants are all now in hiding or working with Charles. Oh, and Stryker lost your pet Vampire. So where did they stash Carlos Oliveira again?" She set her nail file in her purse, but refused to back down from Victor. "Oh, yes! That's right! He's at the Vampire Council!!"

"The Mutant wasn't meant to succeed," Frankenstein replied, hands folded over the files on his desk. "It was meant as a distraction."

"Distraction from what?" Vondoome asked, with a badly exaggerated eyeroll. "Distraction for Stane to take control of Stark Industries?" he snorted. "Yeah, that worked. I heard he bought the SGC, and tossed every single one of our guys in there, out on their stupid asses."

Stane growled at him. "We were able to retrieve valuable information from Tracy Island."

"You couldn't even take out one Hunter!" Vondoome snarked.

"Gentlemen! Enough!" Frankenstein held up a hand to stop them from bickering. "For your information, the item that was retrieved from Tracy Island has been put to good use. Our Stark Specialist is now working on updating and enhancing the early program of J.A.R.V.I.S. and making it more useful to our needs."

"Please tell me you're renaming it?" Victoria reached for a folding mirror from her bag, and began adjusting her earrings. "And giving it a better voice? That haughty English Accent is annoyingly snotty."

"Remind you of Benny?" Vondoome teased, only to get her stiletto heel buried in his foot.

"SID." Frankenstein smirked, watching the twit with the scar on his face trying not to explode in a scream of pain. "Sadistic, Intelligent, Dangerous."

Stane chuckled darkly. "Perfect."

"Now on to other projects." Vogler tossed a file down on the center of the table. "We've lost all funding from Petrelli. Her son released all the evidence from the disappearance of her late husband's rival. She's been arrested and will be standing trial for murder. All her assets have been frozen, seized by the District Attorney's Office."

"And Nathan Petrelli?" Vondoome asked curiously.

He liked the guy. Petrelli had shocked them all, not just in quitting the Campaign, and the Republican Party, but in shamelessly tossing his own Mother under the proverbial bus.

The kid had balls.

"Has appears to have left New York, along with his brother, Peter. They are rumored to be settling in Louisiana. Specifically, a house in New Orleans." Vogler smirked at Victor's sudden interest.

"He's under Nico's protection?" Frankenstein demanded.

"Looks to be." He threw some photos down on the table, adding them to the growing pile of material he'd been accumulating. They showed Peter talking to Templeton Peck, one of Sylum's Clan Members who worked for the City Council. "There's rumors flying around that Peck will run for office, with Petrelli backing him."

Victor snarled, crumpling the image he'd picked up to take a look at. "Don Jon?"

"Hmmm?" The Vampire in question glanced over at him, having not really paid much attention to the entire proceedings.

"I need someone who can get into New Orleans, or lure those whom Nicolaus is hiding, out of the city." He looked at the Hunter, his eyes tightening shrewdly. "Can you do that?"

"I know someone who could. But we'll have to do something for him in return." Jon shrugged casually.

"Do it," Frankenstein ordered. "I don't care how. I want Petrelli and Longworth taken care of."

"I'll give Larry a call." He nodded, completely understanding the problem.

If anyone could worm his way in and out of there, it would be Larry.

Don Jon knew the CIA operative had a very personal thing for a now burned spy named Michael Westen.

Just maybe he could broker a deal with the sadistic bastard.

It was worth a try.

He'd get Westen for Larry, if Larry killed Longworth for him.

All very neat and tidy.

"Good." Victor looked through a few of the folders that Royce had piled in front of him earlier, refusing to let those around the table, see just how much their recent setbacks were irritating the crap out of him. "So, Dr. Chase? How is that new drug development going?"

"Quite well actually! We're working to make the ashes into an increasingly addictive element. It simply enhances what was already there. Very clever, very original! I've brought in a new man, Jack Napier. He's a chemist. Utterly brilliant in his field. If this works as well as tests are showing it might, we could start leaking it out onto the streets in a matter of weeks. And the cost of manufacturing will be positively minimal compared to the markup price on the market."

"Stane?" Victor looked over at the older businessman. "Now that Stark has bought the SGC, what is going on with Sector Seven?"

Obediah refused to acknowledge VonDoome's smug expression. "Sector Seven is still entirely under our own operational auspices. It's so deep beneath layers of government bureaucracy, that even the President doesn't know it exists."

"Which is good, considering the President is a friend of Nico's," Victoria pointed out, sounding terribly snide. "And he was the one who sold the SGC. I mean, does anyone know how much that thing cost? Because, I really have to hand it to Stark for pulling that off."

"Sector Seven's mandate is the secret operation still functioning under Hoover Damn. Our resident Stark expert, is working away on the new tech that SI is currently putting out, and we should be rivaling them in a matter of days. He's been particularly motivated in recent weeks," Stane continued, completely ignoring Victoria.

"Anything else?" Frankenstein cast a quick look around the room, then paused, smiling benevolently at the young woman seat opposite him. "Raven Darkhölme! My dear, how are you settling in?"

"The Vampire thing is different. A little limiting. But I can work with it," she smirked, her eyes flashing with determination. "I looking forward to destroying those who took everything from me. I can cause some considerable damage, in places you can't even begin to imagine yet." She straightened her tightly tailored, navy blue jacket, even as Victoria snorted in contempt.

"Flash your tits on your own time, honey," she hissed, leaving the boys sat around her to wonder exactly what else she could do with that nail file of hers.

Victor Frankenstein smiled serenely.

His plans might not have worked out exactly as anticipated, but he had attained some highly favorable outcomes.

"We are adjourned." He grabbed his files and headed straight back to his personal quarters, sighing gratefully once the door to his rooms was safely shut.

Throwing his paperwork on an already cluttered desk, and he stalked over to the fireplace, tossing in another log and stoking it fiercely until it started burning brighter.

Then he glanced around in search of his little one.

The main room was a mixture of office, library, and science lab.

Very old European, just as he always liked it.

Darkened.

Hushed.

There were bookshelves lining the walls, with various tomes scattered all over the floor and nearby tables.

Off in one corner, an elaborate chemistry set sat on a long, well stained table, awaiting his input. A few projects littered its immediate vicinity, in a different stages of completion.

There was a door at the back, that lead to his personal bedroom, and a second door on the left hand wall, that lead to his little one's room.

"Papa?"

Victor smiled down indulgently at the handsome boy who came to greet him.

He stood at attention, hands clasped behind his back.

The school uniform he wore was pressed and clean, not a wrinkle in sight despite a day of studies.

Dark blonde hair slicked neatly back from his face, made him look a great older than his eight, already meaningful years.

"How was your meeting Papa?" he asked, with perfect diction.

"It was good." Victor patted him on the shoulder. "How was your day, Sidney?"

"I may have caused a scene at school. One of the boys was teasing me that I'm adopted. I told him to stop, and he wouldn't. So I made him." Twinkling blue eyes gave him a mischievous look, but his expression was calmly serious.

"Now Sidney, I admire your forthright behavior in taking firm action, but you cannot let the adults question you." Frankenstein knelt down in front of him, and was firm in his tone. "What happened afterwards?"

"I had a meeting with the Principal, stating that I didn't like being bullied and I was only defending myself. I also told him that if this were to escalate I would contact my Papa and he would contact our lawyers." He smirked. "They decided to let boys be boys."

"That's my son!" Victor patted him on the shoulder proudly. "You will always be my son, you know this. But you must never forget who you truly are. It's very important."

"I know, Papa. I'm Sidney Thorne."


Stage Seven | After Credit

Copyright© 2013 by BJ Jones
| XHTML template by arwen54 | Valid XHTML | Valid CSS |