Disclaimer: I do not own the characters found in the animated series Static Shock. They are the property of DC Comics and no infrigement is intended in the making of this fiction.

A/N: This takes place in the future after Static Shock's last season. It's set twenty years after Static but twenty years before the events of Batman Beyond.

Self-Destruction Part 1: Broken Pieces

When the long awaited 2:30 bell rang, the doors of North Stone High sprung open with a variety of teenagers. Jeannie Hawkins made her way through the swarm of other students and stopped off at the blue mailbox that stood right out in front of the school. She turned her head around a little but after not seeing anyone in particular, the short brunette decided to head for the student parking lot.

Raheem leaned against the door of the black four-door Sedan. His last period of the day was Phys. Ed and Coach Gleeson always dismissed class ten minutes early so the students would have time to change and get out by the final dismissal bell. That usually left Raheem open for getting out of school minutes before his riding buddies, which also left him, like that day, impatiently waiting by the car for said buddies. He turned around to lean against the hood of the Sedan in time to spot his younger sister coming his way.

Seeing Jeannie alone, Raheem asked, "Where's the Bubble Blonde?"

The girl responded with, "You mean she wasn't in your music class, either?"

Raheem gave a shake of his head. "Did she at least go to your homeroom?"

"Yes, but after lunch it's like she vanished."

With a shrug, Raheem suggested, "She must've bailed," then got into the car. "Come on."

Jeannie let out a soft sigh as she joined him in the front of their father's car. It felt a bit strange to her to be riding in the passenger's seat. Their routine consisted of she and Beth in the back with Raheem blasting music from up front trying to drown out their, in his opinion, "hyperactive chipmunk conversations". It had been that way going and coming ever since school had started up two weeks earlier. Now, for no reason and without letting Jeannie of all people know, Beth was a no show.

Once their seatbelts were secure, Raheem started out of the parking lot. He soon noticed his younger sister's cheerless expression and said, "Some guy probably just dared her to ditch class with him. You know how Beth is."

"Hm." Jeannie glanced out the window for a moment then looked at him. "Do you think we should maybe call Richie?"

"No," Raheem answered right away, shooting her a look that matched the sharpness of his reply. "First, he's probably still at work. Second, this isn't even that big a deal." With a slight lump in his throat at having to bring the next bit up, Raheem reminded her, "Besides, he's had enough to deal with and Beth's just goofing around."

"Right," Jeannie agreed, knowing he had a point. "Okay." As she relaxed a little, she felt a vibration go off on her belt. She pulled out her cell phone, which she'd had to place on silent while in school, from its holder. After she saw the Caller ID, Jeannie answered into the phone, "Where are you?"

"Relax, J. I just cut out early," came Beth's reply. "Before sixth period."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"What? Would you have come along?"

Instead of answering that, Jeannie decided to repeat her greeting question, "Where are you?"

"I was at the mall, but I swear there is nothing worth seeing at the movies so I checked out some shoes and now I'm just walking around."

"I still don't get why you would just ditch school, though," Jeannie reasoned.

Beth, as per the usual, decided to change the subject. "Hey, you know a lot of people from school hang out at Pizza Metro. You want to head there tonight?"

"Tonight?" Jeannie repeated. "We can't go anywhere tonight. We're all having dinner. Don't you remember?"
"Don't count on the all," Beth replied. "D-A-D has to work so I'm thinking the whole get-together thing is at the bottom of his priorities list. Figured you and me could cut out instead."

"Why don't you just come over? Don't even worry about Richie. Everybody else is going to be there."

"Trust me," Beth said with assurance. "I never worry about him." A pause came before she spoke again. "Just try to get out later, Cutie. Bye."

Before Jeannie could return the usual, "Later, Beauty," she heard her phone click as Beth hung up.

"And what's she up to?" Raheem asked, having caught part of the conversation.

Jeannie told him, "Apparently just walking around."

*******

People seemed to immediately stop everything from walking, talking, jogging, biking, skateboarding, shopping, and all else to look up into the sky as the glowing electrified saucer flew over their heads. Static could hear the cheering and shouts up to him even from his distance over the building tops. He had grown used to the public praise over the years. Compliments of the chemical explosion the media called "the Big Bang". back during his freshman year of high school, Virgin Hawkins had been Dakota City's first official superhero ever since.

Currently only hero, Static thought.

At least it seemed that way for a long time now. Static did not mean his brother-in-law Adam Evans also known as Rubberband Man or just RB among many. No, Static knew how much Adam had going on in his life between his career, trying to launch his own clients, and of course, Sharon and their two kids. However, even with all that on his plate, Adam still managed to make appearances as RB whenever Static really needed him.

The true reason Static felt alone in the superhero business, much like he experienced in his teen years, fell right on the shoulders of his partner Richie Foley or his powered up alias, Gear. However, due to his consistency of being out of sight of late, Static considered more than once about revoking both Gear's partner affiliation with him and years long best friend status as well.

Static knew he did not really mean such thoughts, but he did play around with them in his head. The truth was that Richie concerned him. The man had been through a great deal in the past year, but considering the fact that he was not even trying to talk about things, Static could only pray for the best with the whole thing.

Keep the faith, the philosophy that had gotten him through every other curveball in life.

All that in mind, the high voltage hero took off like the lightning he produced at the familiar sound of an alarm. He followed the screech until he saw a man racing out of a bank with a gun in one hand and a bag in the other. Naturally assuming the bag did not hold the guy's dirty laundry, Static lowered down and blocked the thief's path.

The man gasped. "Static!"

Static informed him, "You just traded in hard times for jail time." Before the robber could even raise his gun, Static took possession of it, levitating the weapon over both their heads before making it explode with a burst of electricity. "And that's really gonna cost you." The superhero's eyes seemed to radiate as he said fiercely, "I hate guns." He gave the man's chest a hard zap, giving him an instant static cling into a brick wall. "Worse, I hate the hoods who turn them on innocent people." When a police car rolled up, Static said, "I'll let them deal with you from here… this time." With that, the flying hero whipped his foldable saucer back out and floated back up into the sky to continue his early evening patrol, as he was not trying to miss dinner that night.

*******

"Raheem," Daisy called from where she stood in the kitchen over the stove, "come grab the plates to set the table."

"Hang on, Ma," Raheem yelled back. He currently sat on the couch in the living room with his younger cousins Tristy and her older brother Bobby.

The three of them had become lost in a movie on TNT. Even with the extreme amount of complexity and action going on in it, Tristy also had her eyes glued tightly to the screen.

"Now, please," was Daisy's response to her oldest child. She held her hand out for Sharon to give her the green and red bell peppers out of the refrigerator. At not hearing a word from the recently turned sixteen-year-old boy, Daisy petitioned him again. "Raheem!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Raheem finally said, moving Tristy off his lap and onto a sitting position on the couch. As he stood and headed into the kitchen, the boy muttered with annoyance, "Dang." As soon as the word left his lips, Raheem felt the backhand of his grandfather connect with his jean clad thigh. "Ow, Pops!"

"Watch your mouth," Robert told him simply. He and Adam had a game of Gold Fish going on at the table.

"It was just dang," Raheem reasoned. "It wasn't like I used, you know, the other D one."

"Close enough," Robert said without looking up from the five cards he had in front of his face then provided an answer for Adam's request for a King. "Go fish."

Raheem resisted the urge to roll his eyes. But that was Pops, always unchanged.

When he made his way over to the cabinet over the microwave stand, Raheem heard Daisy say, "Get out the crystal for tonight, baby."

"Okay, Ma."

"The crystal?" Sharon repeated. "Dais, do not go through the trouble for just us. We can eat off plastic."

"Hey, you guys already know I usually eat off my hands on the road," Adam chimed in, trying to decide which card to request next.

"And that's the point," Daisy said in Adam's direction before turning back to Sharon. "This is the first time the family's been able to really sit down together since July with Adam being in and out of town and all."

"True," Sharon had to agree as she continued tossing her salad. If Virgil had been there in that moment, Sharon could just hear his comments about how lettuce and tomato were the only things her kitchen disaster hands could not burn.

"I'm home," Virgil announced himself that next moment.

"Speak of the devil," Sharon said to herself with a bit of a smirk.

"Whoa!" Virgil cried out as he stumbled over something in his walkway. "Ouch!" He gave a rub to the knee he had hit. The man had changed from Static to Virgil in an alley on the way home. At that moment, though, he wished he would have just done his usual and come in through his bedroom window. Unfortunately, with the weather still being so nice out and people barbequing, the neighbors may have found Static flying into a random window a little suspicious.

"Sorry, Uncle Virg," Bobby apologized as he and Tristy went to pick up the shoes they had left right by the front door.

Virgil stood, giving Tristy a little tickle, producing a giggle. He ran a hand over Bobby's head and said, "I swear, two hours of flying around this city dealing with the most bogus people possible and you two come the closest to taking me out." After he successfully had both kids laughing, Virgil headed for his usual post-patrol spot, the kitchen. "Dang, I'm hungry."

"You, too, huh?" Robert said, but Virgil was quick enough to dodge his father's hand.

"Pops," Virgil greeted with an innocent grin then spotted his sister watching them with a great deal of amusement. "Here early, huh?"

"Mmhmm," Robert hummed disapprovingly. "Now I see where your son gets it."

"Yeah, me too," Virgil said, being the first one to notice what Raheem was currently doing.

"Hey, Dad," the teen acknowledged as he used his own electric powers to balance that evening's choice of dishes.

"Raheem Richard!" Daisy exclaimed after she looked up from checking on the roast. "What do you think you're doing?"

At the startle, Raheem lost his balance on his powers and started to drop the delicate plates. "Oops," he said meekly but was relieved when Virgil used a little of his own electric telekinesis to gently sit the plates and glasses on top of one of the counters.

Daisy breathed a relieved sigh. "Raheem, how many times do I have to tell you to be careful with those sparks of yours around my heirlooms? You know your grandmother gave this dish set to me."

"Sorry, Mama," Raheem apologized, obviously trying to keep from bursting with laughter at the whole thing.

In an attempt to ease the situation, Virgil said to Daisy, "It's a good thing he's practicing, though." He went over and gave her a peck on the lips. "I'm going to need him out there."

"Oh?" Raheem piped up at the news.

"You know it," Virgil confirmed. "Compliments of no-show Gear. Just wait until Richie gets over here. I have some words for him."

"You're going to have to save them for his voicemail," Daisy informed him. "The Foleys indirectly declined tonight."

"Again?" Virgil let out a frustrated sigh.

Adam watched as Raheem silently left out of the kitchen with the stack of plates.

"Let's take five, Rob," Adam said to his father-in-law.

Once they both laid down their cards, Adam took hold of the silverware in one of his stretchable hands and used the other to carry the glasses out to the dining room.

Adam saw his children sitting on the living room couch and said to them as he passed by, "You two get out that TV and go wash up for dinner."

Satisfied with hearing, "Yes, Dad," from both of them, Adam followed his nephew on.

Raheem had started setting the third place at the dining room table, his head low. The only reason Adam could even see his face was because Raheem had his long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. The teen choosing to keep his hair such a length made Adam thankful that Bobby got a haircut every few weeks or so like himself. Having to stop to manage and braid a boy's hair would be a new item of Adam's already long list that he did not need.

"Thanks, Unc," Raheem said when he noticed the older male assisting him.

Adam waved his hand in a, "Don't worry about it," gesture before he asked, "So how's school these days? We haven't had a chance to really talk since I got back."

"It's cool," Raheem answered. "I only have three honors classes this year."

"Only?" Adam repeated.

Raheem smiled. "Yeah, I know."

Adam took a seat at the mostly set table. "How're your powers developing? You seem to have a better control now."

Putting his index finger and thumb close together, Raheem produced a tiny spark between the two. "I guess," he said. "Did Dad tell you I still can't get off the ground?"

"Your dad pretty much mastered the flying thing," Adam admitted. "You'll get there. If you keep your head in it."

Raheem put down the last place setting before he spoke again. "What if my head really isn't in it?"

Before Adam could say anything, their line of family members began to enter the dining room. Adam stretched both hands out a few feet and took the large serving bowl Sharon held then offered his wife a wink.

Jeannie was the last one to enter and went straight over to her parents.

"Okay, so I know this is kind of last minute, but I was thinking I'd go hang out at this pizza place near school," she explained.

The first thing Virgil wanted to know was, "With who?"

"Just Beth," Jeannie answered. "I figured it'd be okay since she and Richie aren't going to be here, anyway."

Daisy reminded her, "Jeannie, your uncle just got back into town."

"But Uncle Adam doesn't care." Jeannie looked to the tall man for confirmation. "Right, Uncle Adam?"

"For my free baby-sitter?" Adam responded. "Anything."

"See?" Jeannie said to her mother.

Daisy still answered negatively. "It's a school night. Neither one of you have any business going out."

"So we'll be back early," Jeannie insisted then looked for some backup support. "Daddy?"

Virgil shook his head. "It's family night, Jeannie. And does Richie even know Beth is going out?"

"Probably not," Raheem felt the need to chime in.

Jeannie folded her arms with annoyance and said, "Oh, just because he doesn't have her every move low jacked?"

Robert placed both hands on his granddaughter's shoulders from behind. "That'll be enough of that, Jean. Don't fuss with your parents."

"Sorry, Pops," the teenager apologized softly.

Daisy sighed and said, "Let's sit."

Robert took the head of the table, as usual, while Virgil, Daisy, Tristy, and Jeannie sat to his right and Sharon, Adam, Bobby, and Raheem on his left. Jeannie clearly wanted a bit of distance from her parents and looked glad to have Tristy sandwiched between her and them. Then there was Bobby who always liked sitting close to his father.

"Now I want to hear about school," the grandfather at the table said.

Tristy was the first to speak. "Ooh, Pops, I'm taking art with the older kids."

"That's right," Robert recalled. "Your mother told me. I'm so proud of you, honey."

"I can't wait for the talent show," Bobby said. "We had our last rehearsal at the rec center."

"That reminds me," Adam spoke out loud. "I need to reschedule my flight for this weekend."

Bobby frowned slightly, knowing the next day was Friday. "Dad, you're still coming to the talent show tomorrow, right?"

"Now you already know I'm not about to miss that," Adam assured the twelve-year-old. "And I don't leave until Saturday."

"The kids have been working pretty hard on this one," Robert said. "It's going to be a good show this year."

"I just can't believe I'm writing a paper on behavioral studies," Raheem said. "I have to use terms that I'm sure we haven't even learned yet."

"I can help you with that," Sharon offered. "I wrote the same thing when I took Honors English."

"I figured," Raheem said. "Thanks, T Sharon. I'm just glad I thought twice about taking Honors World Studies, too. It would have been too much to take on with patrolling at night and everything."

"That's the part I don't like," Robert said. "The part where you let this hero thing get in the way of your studies."

"Pops, it's not getting in the way," Raheem responded automatically, knowing how his grandfather could get.

"You need a little more than those sparkles coming out your fingers to take steps in this world," Robert continued on.

"I know," Raheem started to explain himself again. "That's why-"

"And speaking of honor classes," Robert cut in, turning his attention on Jeannie. "I'm surprised you're not looking into this, Jean."

"Well, my counselor said something to me about it, but me and Beth are really looking to try out for the dance team next month."

"Now you know you're too bright a girl to let one activity take over your life," Robert told her.

Raheem felt his ears actually twitch. Was that supposed to be a shot at him?

"Pops is right," Virgil agreed. "Jeannie, why don't you look into some different classes at school?"
"Would Advanced Computing make everyone at this table happy?" Jeannie asked.

"Computers." Robert sounded pleased. "Now that's something I know I could see you doing."

"Did I mention I'm taking three honors classes?" Raheem muttered to himself as he picked at dinner. "Or, you know, learning to fly?"

*******

The left French door of the Foley household opened at eleven that night. Beth shut it and twisted the top lock before making her way through the foyer and into the enormous living room. The first thing she noticed was the bar. Her father's brand new bottle of scotch had less than a fourth of a drink left. The same thing could be said about the cans of Corona in the refrigerator that morning. She took off her studded jean jacket and Tinkerbell messenger bag. Placing the items onto the white sectional sofa, the tall thin blonde noticed the red blinking answering machine on the coffee table. Seventeen new messages.

Down from yesterday, the teen thought.

She sat on the couch, deciding her father had either not been home to check the machine or had ignored it altogether. With one Richard Foley either was possible. Beth decided to go through the messages herself.

"Yes, Mr. Foley, I thought you'd be interested to know that Bethany has been a missing face in Environment Science this past week, but I know she's been going to homeroom. If there is some sort of problem going on, please call North Stone and ask for me, Rita Taylor."

The second message Beth recognized as her deep voiced music teacher. "Yeah, this is Mitch Odom calling from North Stone. I saw Beth a couple times today, but one place I didn't see her was in my class. I don't have a high tolerance where cutting classes is involved and I thought I'd let you in on the situation."

On the second message Beth heard something that surprised her, "Mr. and Mrs. Foley, this is Bethany's guidance counselor, Cynthia Walters. I've been hearing from a number of her teachers this past week and-"

Beth cut it off there. She had heard enough.

Just then, she heard something else. One of the front doors opening. Richie came in, dropping the mail he had gathered onto an end table.

He acknowledged his daughter with, "Oh, it's you."

"Sorry to disappoint you," Beth said as dryly as she could. "Oh, but bright side, not the first time."

"Don't be cute," Richie said dismissively as he undid his chokehold of a tie. "You been down here all night?"

With a shrug, Beth lied, "Yeah, I've been home for hours."

"I don't suppose you put away any leftovers from whatever takeout you decided to order."

"I didn't order takeout and besides, how am I supposed to know when you're coming in, anyway?"

"That's because I work for hours on end," Richie returned sharply. "And since I do, it wouldn't kill you to help out and maybe do more in the kitchen than lean against the counter."

"Well, here's a thought," Beth said, getting up from where she sat on the couch. "Why don't you just hire a new housekeeper?"

"You're almost fifteen, Bethany," Richie returned. "We don't need a housekeeper around here anymore doing the work you can easily help out with."

Beth did not say anything as she walked off, but did mutter, "Here's another thought. Try hiring a new wife."

"What was that?" Richie called after her.

"Nothing," she said loudly without bothering to turn around as she jogged up the spiral staircase.

Richie gave off a shrug before he tossed his tie down on top of the girl's school bag. He noticed fifteen new messages on the answering machine, but instead of reaching for the play button, he decided on erase. With that done, he promptly went to his bar to enjoy the last of his scotch.

*******

Adam carried a pair of bottled waters into the master bedroom and handed one to Sharon. He joined her in the king sized bed and pulled the covers over both of their middle areas.

"To Sharon Evans," Adam toasted, holding his bottle up. "My reason for it all."

She gave him a grin and said, "You always did make corny stuff sound just so right."

Adam chuckled and took a bite of the strawberry cheesecake that sat on the plate between the two of them. "Mmm," he moaned happily. "You know, I could have dinner with this family every night if it meant saving dessert for you."

Sharon felt herself melt upon hearing that. "Oh, Adam," she cooed. They shared a pair of loving pecks and Adam hugged her closer to him.

"I just wish it could last longer than a minute," he said admittedly.

"Don't start that now," Sharon said, putting a fingertip over his lips. "You will be back on Tuesday."

"Then I'm home for at least a month," Adam tacked on. "I just need to be in LA to review this fresh meat they're trying to throw at me."

"Every talent on every coast wants a piece of my man," Sharon observed.

"Hey, every piece of your man is reserved for you," Adam assured her. "Believe that."

The negligee adorned woman demonstrated that belief by pulling him into a strong kiss. As Adam reached out over her to take things a step or two further, he felt his elbow make contact with something soft and squishy. He moved his arm back and realized that he had touched down upon the cheesecake. Adam looked back at Sharon, who immediately burst into laughter.

Adam smiled widely and sat up, but Sharon pulled him back.

"I'll clean you off," she offered then promptly started licking the strawberry and cream off his lower arm.

As their intimate moment restarted, it was quickly interrupted again. This time by a light melody.

The couple shared a humored yet exasperated expression, but Adam said, "I got it." He pushed himself up and off the bed, only taking time to grab his robe before heading next door to his son's room.

Bobby sat on the bed of his red and lightning silver themed room, playing a few strings on his classic guitar. He was so involved in the sound he attempted to produce that he did not even notice his father's presence until he felt a tap on his left shoulder.

"Ah!" Bobby jumped when he saw that the hand did not have an owner. He did turn his head in time to see his father retract the hand. "Dad, you know it freaks me out when you do that."

"And you know you need to be in the bed right now," Adam said, coming into the room fully. "It's a school day tomorrow, son."

"I know, I know," Bobby said, putting his guitar to the side. "But tomorrow's the talent show, too, and I can't stop thinking about that, either."

"Maybe I can help you with the song in the morning," Adam offered.

"No," Bobby declined quickly. "I don't want you to hear it until the show."

Adam held his hands up and said, "Okay, okay, my ears are closed. But for right now, it's time for you to go to sleep."

"Yeah, okay." Bobby got right back under his blanket but allowed his dad to pull it over him. "Hey, Dad?"

"Hm?"

"What time do you go to bed on the road?"

"At Daddy Time," Adam answered him then tweaked the child's nose. "You go to bed on Baby Boy Time. Like right now."

Taking the very clear hint, Bobby settled and closed his eyes. "Night, Dad."

"Night, son. I'll see you in the morning." That was one line Adam loved saying to his children, as he did not have the privilege of repeating it every night.

After turning off Bobby's nightstand lamp, the man stood and left the room. He started to close the door, but left it partially open just in case his son got anymore ideas about late night practicing.

Before he returned to his own room, Adam went across the hall to check in on Tristy. He could make out her form on the upper level of her bunk bed, thanks to the warm glow radiating from her nightlight. Seeing the little girl moving around anxiously in her sleep, Adam came in closer. He found the thing to sooth her in the form of her pink and white striped tiger and tucked the stuffed animal under her arm.

"Go to sleep, li'l boo," Adam whispered gently, pulling back strands of curly hair from her little round face. He played with her fingers for a minute, so short and tiny compared to his owns.

As he tried to pull away, he felt Tristy attempt to hang on. If up to Adam, he knew he would never let her go.

When he at last made it back to his own room, Adam found Sharon holding the remote with her eyes glued to their fifty inch bedroom TV.

"What's wrong, baby?" Adam asked his wife then caught sight of the news story. A fire had been started in a project on the west side of the city.

Sharon looked up at Adam as if to say, "Go."

Adam slipped off his robe as his body melded into the royal purple clad Rubberband Man. "I'll be back," he promised as always before both stretching and flattening his body in order to get out through their partially opened window.

Every piece, all mine, Sharon thought as she watched his unique exit.

*******

Static knew he had to work fast as debris fell down around him. He used his powers to create a field around himself. However, it would only give him breathable air for a short time. Static used his electric telekinesis to move the lamp and overturned chair blocking his path. He got the door open next and found a woman who looked to be in her early twenties inside. She held onto the edge of her bed, clearly only moments away from passing out on the floor.

"Come on!" Static ordered as he got on her feet.

Once she was secured to his side, Static blasted the window open, creating a huge hole in the already crumbling wall. The superhero glided out and carried the woman down where fire fighters waited in front of the tenement.

"How we looking, Chief?," Static asked as he gently handed the young woman over to paramedics for care. Then he heard a very familiar bounce headed his way as RB appeared on the scene. "Rubberband Man."

"Sorry I'm late," the other superhero said.

"You mean right on time," said the fire chief. "There are still two apartments unaccounted for. One on the first floor left and the other on the eighth floor."

"You take the lower," Rubberband Man said to Static. "I got the eighth."

With that, the duo divided up.

Rubberband Man stretched his legs up until he reached to the eighth floor and enlarged his fist to crash in through a window. He inflated his hand to use a gas mask then quickly started down the long hallway. He kicked open doors as he went, looking for any trace of life. The fire had been started at least four floors down so there was not a flame in sight, just a veil of smoke. It was not until he got to the last door that he heard someone. He ran into an open room and saw a young boy crouched over an elderly woman who laid passed out on a couch.

The boy's eyes lit up at the sight of the superhero and he yelled out, "Help! My grandma won't move."

"Hang on!" Rubberband Man formed the shape of a wheel and rolled himself over to the pair.

As the floor started coming down on them, RB thought fast and stretched out long and flat until he was able to wrap his entire body around the boy and his grandmother like a blanket. That done, he balled out of the apartment, down the hall, and out the window he had come through, landing with a pair of bounces on the pavement below.

Firefighters ran up as Rubberband Man unrolled himself, revealing the child and elderly woman safe and sound.

RB pulled himself back together and asked the young man, "You okay?"

"Yeah," the boy replied. "Thanks, Rubberband Man!

"No problem," Rubberband Man told him humbly as he came down off his adrenaline rush; another feeling he had missed while out on the road.

"Come with us, sweetheart," a paramedic instructed as she guided the little boy and his grandmother over to an ambulance.

The child would not stop watching Rubberband Man as he went towards the medical vehicle.

Static flew down on his saucer and landed by his brother-in-law. "An old man went to sleep with his bedtime snack still cooking. Can you believe that? Thank God we got all these people out in time. Thanks for the assist, RB."

"Just glad I could be here," the older man responded.

"Excellent work, heroes," the fire chief commended as he made his way up to them amongst the last of the chaos. "Thank you so much. There's no way my men could have secured everyone in that tenement without you."

"Don't even worry about it," Static said while Rubberband Man stared in another direction vaguely before walking off. "Although, I'm still waiting for one of those shiny helmets."

The chief commented, "You and Rubberband Man make quite the team-up. Though, where's the mini zap you worked with over the summer?"

"You mean Volt," Static said. "Yeah, somehow I don't think midnight fires and curfews are a great mix for a kid his age."

Clearing his throat before he spoke again, the fire chief then inquired, "And Gear?"

"Gear is…" Static tried to think of the best way to explain it. "Working a whole other case right now."

"Oh, I understand," the older fireman nodded. "Well, nonetheless, this city knows it can always depend on you and…" He looked around for a moment. "Where is Rubberband Man?"

The aforementioned hero went up to the back of the ambulance, which had both doors wide open as emergency crew worked back and forth. The boy he had saved from the blaze sat kicking his legs casually while holding an oxygen mask to his face.

"How you doing?" Rubberband Man asked, reaching a hand out to toss at the child's head of short brown curls.

Lowering the mask, he answered, "Okay. That smoke sucked, though."

"I know," RB concurred, taking a seat next to him on the ambulance. "I bet you know for sure not to play with matches now, right?"

"Oh yeah," he answered matter-of-factly. "I'm not that stupid."

Rubberband Man smiled at that. "And you don't look it. What's your name, li'l man?"

"Tony. Hey, you're Adam Evans, too, right? I know all your songs from my auntie."

Before Adam could respond to that, a petite dark haired paramedic approached them. "And how are we doing here?" she asked Tony.

Tony held up the oxygen mask and said, "I think I'm all good now. Where's my grandma?"

"She's doing just fine," the paramedic assured him. "She just got the wind knocked out of her. She also gave us your aunt's number so she should be here to pick the two of you up soon."

"Kay," Tony responded.

The female medical attendant patted his cheek gently before going off to see about the remaining victims.

Having noticed the less than enthusiastic tone the child's voice had taken, Rubberband Man asked, "You want me to here to wait for your auntie with you?"

Surprisingly, Tony shook his head. "Nah. I'm not a little kid. I just turned eleven."

Rubberband Man smirked and feigned offense as he said, "Well, excuse me, grown man." He got a small laugh out of Tony. Then RB's eyes floated over to see Static standing alone, looking beyond pensive. "Listen, I'm going to go check on my partner. You take care of yourself now, all right?"

"Okay," Tony said with a nod. "Thanks, Rubberband Man."

"Hey," he said, "call me RB," then bounced right up and headed in Static's direction. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Static answered as if in a distance. "Why don't you head back without me?"

Rubberband Man folded his long arms across his chest and asked, "And where are you headed?"

"Just to check on somebody."

With a raised eyebrow, the elder male asked, "Would that someone be Gear?" When Static did not respond, RB had his answer. "It's kind of late. You're going over there now?"

"Trust me," Static said with assurance. "I get the feeling a good night's sleep isn't high on his priorities list, among other things."

"I'll go with you," Rubberband Man offered.

"No. He might actually stop to listen if it comes straight from me. I'll catch up with you tomorrow."

As Static flew up on his saucer, Rubberband Man stretched himself up at the waist to give him a last piece of advice. "Just remember, Virgil. All you can do is your best with this. The rest is up to him."

Static smirked and said, "Gee, thanks a lot, Pops."

"Always, son." With that remark, RB played the part of a slinky as he went back down, allowing the electrified hero to fly off.

*******

As the words on the forms he had brought home that night seemed to blur together, Richie simply dropped the multicolored files down to the Central Persian carpeting below him. He reached over the left side of his arm chair to pull his laptop out of its carrying case when his bar caught his eye for at least the fifth time that night. After an inner debate that lasted less than ten seconds, Richie got up and walked less than three feet to make himself a soda and brandy, mostly brandy of course.

"So?" At the sound of the all too familiar voice, Richie whipped his head around to find Static behind him. "Found what you're looking for at the bottom of that bottle?"

"Don't know," Richie answered as he went back to pouring the drink to its brim. "I haven't had a decent chance to finish it yet."

Static shot him a look. "Meaning you actually stopped for an intake of oxygen?"

"How did you get in here? In case you've forgotten, it was called an "emergency" key for a reason," the blonde male said without turning around or missing a sip.

"Didn't need it," Static responded. "Might want to try locking your balcony at night, though. Little superhero tip there."

Richie smiled snidely and said, "If you'll recall, I often had to read that superhero handbook to you."

"Yeah, well, you can get ready to trade in your super power members card," Static informed only partially in jest. "The hell have you been, man? I'm talking about Richie and Gear."

"Closing deals, securing accounts, keeping an entire company's pockets lined," Richie recounted. "Those odds and ends I do throughout the day."

"Wow, that sounds like a nine-to-five kind of thing," Static remarked. "You know, something I know absolutely nothing about what with this hero routine just paying my bills left and right."

"Virgil," Richie put an emphasis on the hero's true name, "perhaps it is time you remembered that all of this is nothing more than in fact a routine. We go through our day to day battles, stopping the "evil doers" where we can and what's it really gotten us?"

Static's eyes literally sparked as he answered fiercely, "Maybe the satisfaction of going to bed at night knowing we've helped to protect so much as one more life out there. Do you remember life, Richie? You valued it once upon a time."

"As with every fool dream, once upon a time needs to stay in fairy tales." Richie took another long sip of brandy. "Are we done?"

"That one's up to you, Rich," Static told him. "Because with the way things have been going, it seems like you're more than done. So much so that it would take too much time out of your busy schedule to check in on your own daughter once in a while."

Richie retorted, "Don't you even think about coming into my house and dictating to me how I treat my daughter."

Somewhat satisfied with getting any kind of a real emotional response out of his childhood long friend, Static pressed on. "Really? Because it seems to me someone needs to dictate something to you. I more than understand what you've lost, Richie, but at this point you can't blame the world. You're the one destroying yourself."

Richie's voice was nothing short of a harsh whisper as he ordered, "Get. Out."

Unmoved, Static replied, "I'm leaving. But if you don't mind, I'll use the front door this time." That said, he made tracks towards the foyer and out the double doors.

Richie gripped his glass tightly until it cracked and burst in his hand. The remaining alcohol dripped through his fingers, mixing in with the blood from the cuts the jagged pieces of broken glass had produced. He thought nothing of the wound as he merely shook the shards onto the floor and started in on another drink. This time all brandy, no soda.

*******

After a third attempt at rearranging some things, Jeannie finally got her enormous US History textbook stashed away. As she reached down to see if she could now find a spot for her thick pink binder, her locker door slammed shut, revealing Beth on the other side of it.

"Someone's looking a little less Cutie," she observed.

Jeannie groaned lightly and ran a hand through her shoulder length hair. "Thanks for the commentary, Beauty, but I'm not in the mood. I just had this out of nowhere quiz in history. Also, thanks to me being tied down to family dinner goodness last night, Pops convinced me to look into Advanced Computing. Now I have to go hunt down my counselor."

"Or," Beth suggested with a mischievous grin, "we could bail."

The shorter girl stared at her for a moment then realized she was being completely serious. "Beth, come on. You already did your big high school class cut thing yesterday."

"Yesterday?" Beth tossed her unbelievably long blonde hair over one shoulder as she said, "Try every day this week."

Jeannie's eyes widened. "You're F-ing kidding me, right?"

Beth returned, "No F-in' way."

"B, have you lost your mind?" Jeannie decided to answer that herself. "Oh, wait, stupid question. Of course you have. Aren't you freaked? They're going to start calling your house."

"Already have," Beth said matter-of-factly. "Probably for a couple days now."

Jeannie frowned in confusion. "And Richie hasn't said boo to you?"

When Beth only shrugged a shoulder, Jeannie found herself feeling a touch of envy. For one thing, Beth got to walk out of the house in clothes Jeannie knew her own parents wouldn't even allow her to look at in a store. That day for example, Beth wore jeans that would restrict any normal person's oxygen supply, a shiny green and blue strapless halter top that made her boobs look all too ready to be released from it, and a thin brown leather jacket. Now clothes completely aside, there was ditching school, calls to home, and staying out late to add to Beth's repertoire.

And Ma and Dad want to say something about me going for pizza, Jeannie could not help thinking.

"So, anyway," Beth spoke again. "You coming with or no?"

Jeannie knew Beth had returned to the subject of skipping class. "B…"

The grinning blonde tried again. "It's Friday."

Despite herself, Jeannie could not help considering it. "Beth, I can't and also you can't. As soon as Richie is off whatever sugar high he's on, you are dead."

"Oh, trust me," Beth said slyly. "He's high on something but it ain't sugar. I'm heading out, though. Send me up a cell signal when you're officially sick of the Good Girls Club." She turned and headed towards the doors but then looked back to say another thing. "Oh, and when I'm dead say something nice at my funeral. I'll be listening." With another hair flip, Beth pushed open both doors and headed down to the first floor.

"She headed for Pep Club?"

Jeannie looked back to see that Raheem had just walked up with his army themed book bag on his back. "To talk to a teacher or something."

Raheem gave her a look. "Lame try at covering, but I did catch the tail end of that conversation. She's ditching class again, isn't she?" When Jeannie answered him by returning to her locker, Raheem just nodded. "Take that as a yes."

"So what are you going to do?" Jeannie suddenly asked him snippily. "Narc on her? Newsflash, the school's already called her house."

The unmoved Raheem tacked on, "And in a related story, maybe somebody should try a face to face with Richie instead of a phone to phone."

"Or maybe Richie's just giving her some space," Jeannie countered. "You know, to do her own thing without being in her face every minute?"

"Or…" Raheem pretended to think before he said, "Richie's the world's dumbest smart guy."

*******

Bobby sat backstage on the couch in the community center, playing a twinge over and over on his guitar, whispering the lyrics to himself. For the most part, he seemed to like what he heard but frowned up every once in a while when a note just was not right to him. When he got through the final verse, he smiled with satisfaction and looked up in time to see his mother headed his way.

"Oh, baby," Sharon cooed over him, holding her hands together in delight. "I can't wait to see you on that stage. You're going to be so good."

"Thanks, Ma," Bobby said gratefully. "Is Dad here yet?"

Sharon waved dismissively and combed through her son's hair with her fingers. "Your daddy's probably riding up right now. He and your Uncle Virgil just had to make a quick stop off."

The way his mother said "quick stop off" made Bobby know that it had to be some Static and Rubberband Man business. The public was more than aware of Adam Evans as Rubberband Man, but Virgil Hawkins as Static was still a secret to most people and the family respected that.

"All right," Robert said, heading over with a clipboard in hand. "We'll be ready to start in a minute or two. Seats are already filling up." He looked down at the child who bore his first name. "All set, Bobby?"

"Yes, Pops," the young guitarist answered. "I think so."

"Good," Robert nodded then turned to Sharon. "Let's get out there."

Sharon bent down to kiss her son's forehead first. "Knock 'em out, baby. Come on, Daddy." She linked arms with Robert and the two went to find their positions at the front of the stage.

Bobby reclined as best he could with his guitar in the wooden chair, watching his fellow performers for a while. He knew he had some competition in the singing department, but most of the girls seemed interested in dancing. One boy had even brought his dog in with him to perform some sort of trick.

As Bobby started to relax into things, he heard his grandfather's voice.

"Welcome to the Freeman Community Center Annual Talent Night," Robert welcomed the audience from where he stood on stage as Master of Ceremonies and head of the center.

As Robert spoke on, Bobby peeked out of the curtain and managed to get a good look at the audience. He saw his mother of course next to Aunt Daisy, who held Tristy in her lap, and his cousins Raheem and Jeannie. However, there was no sign of his Uncle Virgil and worst yet, his father.

Bobby watched as the first contestant, a girl playing flute, rushed by him.

"Hey, baby boy."

The twelve-year-old turned around with a startle at the sight of his father behind him. "Dad," he acknowledged with a grin.

"Uncle V had to do a quick change. I just wanted to sneak back to wish you luck," Adam said. He gave his son's shoulders a gentle squeeze and almost felt them shaking under his touch. "Nervous?"

Bobby shook his head hard. "No, I'm fine."

"It's okay to be a little afriad," Adam assured him. "It still comes on me sometimes."

Looking interested now, Bobby inquired, "Really?"

"Yep, but you know, the trick is to focus on your music and drown out everything else. And don't forget this, me and all the family are right out there for you." Adam patted his shoulders next. "You just go out there, do your thing, and have some fun."

Bobby smiled up at his father, feeling his earlier nerves subsiding. "Thanks, Dad."

Adam gave the boy a quick hug and a wink before folding himself backwards and cart wheeling away, getting a good laugh out of his son.

A pudgy young boy walked up to Bobby and commented, "Your dad's so cool."

"I know," Bobby had to agree.

More acts went on. As kids started leaving backstage, Bobby realized he was second to last. He was glad the twins on stage now were doing some type of a skit from a movie scene and that there had not been a singer on in a while. Bobby let his father's words echo in his head while he drummed his fingers across the smooth sides of his guitar, both of which helped his anxiety.

"Thank you, Jennifer and Joshua Tatum," Robert said as the twins left the stage. "Now it's my pleasure to introduce Robert Evans."

It took Bobby a couple seconds to recognize his own full first name as the audience applauded for what felt like the hundredth time that night. When the realization took place, he let go of a sharp breath then proceeded onto the stage. He looked over at his grandfather who's facial features flowed with support. Then glancing briefly at the audience, Bobby caught Raheem and Virgil giving him twin thumbs up signs, wide grins from the women in the family along with a couple camera flashes from his mother, and an encouraging nod from his father.

That's when Bobby heard Adam's words again. "Go out there, do your thing, and have fun."

All that in mind, Bobby started playing the first few strings on his guitar which led up to a steady melody. He managed to look out towards the audience but looked at no one direction, not wanting to absorb a reaction from any specific person's face. Before long he started in on the lyrics he had rehearsed for so long.

Here I Am at Last

Trying to Pave my Way

Trying to Get there Fast

It's Finally my Day

Bobby slowed down and went higher on his guitar before he held his head up high and continued his son.

I Wonder How Long I have to Go

I Never Thought I'd Feel this Way

I Thought I'd Never Know

It's Finally my Day

As he coursed through the rest of the song, Bobby felt his father's advice take on a very real meaning as he found himself completely into what he was doing. Better yet, he enjoyed every second of it.

When the song finally ended, Bobby gave a final twinge to his guitar, looked out at the audience again, and said with a big smile, "Thank you."

The people in the auditorium wasted no time as they began the chorus of applause. Bobby looked to his right and saw his grandfather clapping with both his hand and his clipboard. Feeling incredible, Bobby took a quick bow before heading behind the curtain once more.

"We've certainly had a wonderful time tonight," Robert said when the applause calmed down somewhat. "It's a little hard to believe it's time to introduce our final act for the night, Antonio Ramos."

Adam clapped with the rest of the audience this stretched his neck out slightly to get a good look at the boy who appeared on the stage next. It was Tony; the boy he had saved just the last night.

"Adam," Sharon chided her husband, making him withdraw his neck.

"I know that kid," Adam whispered to her but had no time to explain as the performance before them began in a big way.

Unable to believe the amount of talent the young boy on stage possessed as he went deeply into an old Li'l Romeo rap, but the words just jumped off. Adam looked around him and could tell the audience was more than sucking it in. Even Raheem and Jeannie, both of whom had clearly only been interested in hearing Bobby.

"Throw 'em up, put 'em up, get 'em up! It takes two," Tony rapped, artistically moving back and forth across the stage floor rhythmically, swaying his arms along with it. "It takes two to make. It takes two!" He did a spin on his heel as he finished it, "It takes two, okay!"

The moment the last lyric left Tony's lips, the audience erupted into wide spread applause and cheers.

Bobby, along with several other contestants in the show, watched the reaction from backstage. Bobby most of all could not believe it when even certain members of the crowd stood just to clap.

"All right. Could I have all of the contestants back on stage?" Robert said cheerfully yet loudly in an attempt to simmer down the audience. He put a hand on Tony's shoulder as Bobby and the other kids came out. "It's been a fantastic night and the children here have shown talent far beyond their years. Unfortunately, we can have only one winner, who will walk away with a fifty dollar Visa gift card. Now, if I could just have the judges' decision…" Robert walked out towards the edge of the stage for the piece of paper handed it to him. He unfolded the note, read the name, and announced, "And the winner of the Freeman Community Center Annual Talent Night is… Antonio Ramos!"

Clearly happy with the decision, the people got up from their seats and clapped loud enough to fill the entire room. The other contestants cheered as well, although Bobby found his hands clapping back and forth a lot slower than everybody else's.

After Tony was awarded, the talent show participants headed back behind the curtain to gather their things. Bobby quietly put his guitar away into its case. Someone walked up behind him as he started to zip it up.

"Wow," the boy said. "I thought for sure you'd win, Bobby. That Antonio kid was unbelievable, though."

"Yeah," a girl around five or six years old agreed.

"Yeah," Bobby said halfheartedly, wanting nothing more than to escape Antonio's newfound fans.

After he was all packed up, Bobby hurried out into the hall to find his family. He spotted his parents first and started their way then felt a shock at the sight of his father talking to Antonio and a young woman who was with him.

"I can't thank you enough for saving my nephew and his grandmother, Mr. Evans," the woman was saying. "I thought after all that, Tony would be too shook up to come here tonight, but he was determined."

"I'm glad I could be there," Adam said, "and I'm glad Tony had the strength to come out here tonight. I haven't seen a young talent like his in a long time."

"Do you mean it, RB?" Tony piped up.

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't," Adam assured. "As a matter of fact, I'm headed for LA tomorrow. I know this is happening fast, but I would love for your nephew to come out with me. I'd like to introduce him to some executives I know."

As Bobby felt his mouth drop, Tony's aunt beamed from ear to ear and exclaimed, "Oh, do you mean it? He's so young, though. Do you honestly think he's that good?"

"I'm so sure of it that if things work out, I want the honor of becoming his agent," Adam said confidently.

"Whoa!" Tony looked up at his aunt and said pleadingly, "Please, Aunt Sandra. I really want to go. Please?"

"I'll have to talk it over with your grandmamma," she replied then looked at Adam. "But I'm sure she wouldn't want him to miss this opportunity."

"Great." Adam reached into his jacket pocket and removed a card. "Take this and call me as early as you can in the morning. It has all my information and I'm sure I could get Tony on my flight."

Sharon chimed in to Adam, "You were so wonderful, sweetheart. You should be really proud of yourself."

Bobby stood back, not bothering to go over and join the conversation. He had been expecting his parents to run up to him the minute they saw him, not go crazy over some other kid.

"Bobby!" The boy glanced over to see his aunt, uncle, sister, and cousins headed his direction.

"Hey, guys," he greeted them, trying to muster up some kind of enthusiasm.

"Look, I don't care what anybody says," said Raheem. "You were the best thing out there, Cous'."

Tristy wrapped her arms around his waist and said, "I really loved your song."

Daisy smiled and said, "I could tell how hard you worked on it. It really showed."

"You're gonna eat 'em alive next year," Virgil said strongly, giving his nephew a playful punch in the arm.

Jeannie suggested, "Hey, maybe you can give us an encore later."

"Sure," Bobby said with a shrug.

"There he is," Adam said as he and Sharon finally approached the scene.

"I knew you would be good," Sharon said, wrapping him into a hug.

"Not good enough," Bobby whispered but his mother heard him.

"I don't even want to hear that," she said. "There will be other contests."

"Your mama's right, son," Adam concurred. "The important thing here is that you really did your thing out there. I'm glad I had to wait to hear the song because it was perfect. As far as I'm concerned, this really is your day."
Bobby finally brightened at hearing that. "Thanks, Dad."

"Now," Adam continued, lifting Tristy up into his arms. "I was going to take us out for dinner, but since I have to be asleep early tonight, I was thinking we'd head home and order a few pizzas. How's that sound."

"Okay," Bobby agreed immediately.

Jeannie went over and gave Adam's cheek a kiss, which he had to lower down a little for her to do. "Have a good flight. We'll see you when you get back."

"Yeah," said Raheem. "See you, Unc."

"Help your dad out with the," Adam looked around to see that the crowd around them was thinning before he spoke again, "situations around town while I'm away."

"I know," Raheem said, knowing Gear was as of yet still out of the picture.

Daisy said, "Bye, Adam. We'll see you tomorrow, Sharon. Night, kids."

"Night, Aunt Daisy," Tristy said with a wave.

"See you, girl," Sharon said as Daisy ushered their family away. "Well, let's hit it."

Still holding Tristy in one arm, Adam stretched his free one out long enough to drape over both Sharon and Bobby as they headed out to the front of the center. After both kids were secure in the back of Adam's red-orange Hummer, he and Sharon climbed up front. Adam drove them home, knowing his car was yet another family member he would soon find himself missing.

When they reached the front of their house, Adam punched in the electronic security code, allowing the metal gates to spread apart. As soon as the Hummer was safely through, the gates closed softly again. Adam drove into the left of the three car garage. Sharon and Adam collected their children and went inside to order the night's dinner. After a quick cleanup and putting away leftovers, the entire family was more than ready to go to bed.

Bobby got ready to go to sleep pretty quickly, exhaustion from the day weighing in. He changed out of his school clothes and into a pair of pajamas then crawled under his blanket. His parents came in a minute later.

"Good night, my little man," Sharon said, reaching over to kiss the top of his head.

"Night, Mama," Bobby returned.

Sharon got up and headed for the doorway as Adam came over next. "Night, baby boy. I'll be here in the morning when you wake up."

"Okay, Dad." Sharon headed out and Adam started to follow her until he heard his son beckon him again. "Dad? Since it's the weekend do you think I could maybe go to LA with you? Please?"

"Son, now you know I won't be back until Tuesday," Adam reminded him. "And you have school."

"Well, then why can Tony go?" Bobby wanted to know.

"Different situation," Adam answered. "I'm trying to set a career off for him."

"Can't we e-mail my teachers and I can just do my work in LA?"

Adam sighed. "Not this trip, Bobby. Maybe another time."

Getting frustrated, Bobby pressed, "That's what you always say."

"Now that's enough," Adam said firmly. "It might be the weekend for you, but it's not for me. This discussion is closed, got me?"

It was Bobby's turn to sigh as he laid back. "Yes, sir."

"Good night," Adam said finally. He clicked off the light and closed the door after him.

Bobby rolled over to his side and thought for a minute. He knew whenever his dad ordered an issue closed, it always remained close. Bobby stayed awake for a while thinking about how to re-open things.

*******

Richie pressed the flashing button of his desktop intercom and spoke into it. "Yes?"

"Mr. Foley, you have a call trying to come in. They say it's urgent."

"Is it Paul Wright with the Edwards account?"

"No, it's actually the manager of some type of store.

Richie frowned. "What on earth is urgent about that and why are they calling?"

"They told me they've been trying your cell phone for the past fifteen minutes. It must be serious."

With a sigh of pure annoyance, Richie said, "Fine, Vivian. Put them through." The machine clicked over and Richie heard a different woman's voice from his secretary's over the phone now. "This is Richard Foley. What seems to be the trouble?"

"Mr. Foley, my name is Laura Smith with J&H Clothing. I need you to come pick up your daughter Beth immediately."

"I'm afraid I can't get away right now," Richie responded, eyes never leaving his computer. "If she's lost her wallet or something, please send her home in a cab and I'll give you my charge information."

"Well, I'm afraid you'll have to get away," Laura informed him. "Otherwise, we'll be forced to bring in the authorities."

This definitely caught Richie's attention. "What?"

"Mr. Foley, your daughter was caught shoplifting five hundred dollars worth of merchandise out of this store. Unless you come down here at once this turns into a matter for the police."

"No," Richie said right away. "Give me your address. I'll be down within the hour." He jotted down the information quickly. "Right, got it." After the call ended, he clicked off his phone, threw down the pen he had used to write with, and muttered, "Damn it," before promptly getting up.

*******

Tristy, still in her Tigger and Pooh themed nightwear, quietly opened the door to her older brother's room a crack. She saw him so into his sleep that both his pillows rested on top his head. Starting inside with a soft tiptoe, it quickly turned into a dash as Tristy ran the rest of the way to his bed and promptly jumped in it.

"Wake up, wake up," she chanted, jumping up and down lowly on her knees.

From under a pillow, a groan was heard. "Tris…"

"It's time to get up," she informed him, now deciding to pull on his arm. "And Daddy's making breakfast."

Bobby instantly remembered that Saturday had arrived. He looked out from under his pillow to see his clock on the bedside table, which told him it was pushing ten thirty. Their father would have to leave soon and Bobby knew he had to move fast.

"Yeah," he said to his younger sister, practically falling over himself to get out of bed. "Let's go."

Giggling at the older child's sudden enthusiasm, Tristy merely hopped down from the bed and followed him out. Both rushed down to their grand scale kitchen in time to see their father finish up with the stove while their mother enjoyed her morning coffee at the kitchen island nearby.

"Hi, Mama. Morning, Daddy," Tristy greeted brightly, running right for him.

"Whoa, easy, li'l boo," Adam cautioned, turning down the heat on one of the burners. "You see me near this stove."

"Oh, right," Tristy said, realizing her mistake. "Sorry."

Adam stretched an arm down to give her side a little tickle. "Just be careful." Next he handed her a tray stacked with sweet smelling golden pancakes while he held another platter. "Let's go carry this out to the garden. It's too nice a day to stay in here."

"Okay, Daddy," the small eight-year-old agreed. Her tiny feet bounced right behind him out the back kitchen door.

Sharon smiled after them and Bobby sat next to her at the island.

"So, Ma," Bobby attempted to be subtle, "is Tony really going to LA with Dad?"

"You got it right," Sharon confirmed. "His aunt called an hour ago to let us know. Your daddy even managed to arrange a last minute flight for him." Bobby sighed longingly, prompting his mother to ask, "What's the matter, baby?"

"Nothing," Bobby replied with a shrug, resting his elbows on the counter top. "I just really wish I could go with Dad. There are all these really cool sites and museums in LA I'd really like to see. I think it'd be even better than going to school. And I could just bring my homework with me."

"Hm," Sharon hummed thoughtfully. "You have a good point there. Have you talked to your father about all this?"

"Well, it's just that Dad probably won't want me to miss school or anything, but I know I can make it up," Bobby said surely. "I just want the chance to go. So I thought maybe you could talk to Dad about what?"

At the moment, the man of the house came back in, this time in search of maple syrup. "Talk to Dad about what?"

Before Bobby could try to cover, Sharon explained, "Honey, we really do need to talk."

"About what, boo?" Adam asked his wife, going to stand at her side.

"Bobby is really interested in going to LA with you."

"I heard," Adam said, speaking to Sharon but looking directly at their oldest child. "I also told him he's not missing school and that the case was closed."

Sharon raised an eyebrow. "He already talked to you?"

Adam nodded then noticed how tightlipped his son had become. "Bobby, go out into the living room. I want to have a word with you right now."

"Okay," Bobby responded softly as he stood up and went where he was told with his dad close behind him.

"All right," Adam started as Bobby found a sitting spot on the arm of their loveseat. "Did I or did I not tell you this LA discussion was over with?"

"I figured you just meant between you and me," Bobby attempted, "not me and Ma."

Adam gave the boy a fierce look of disapproval. "Don't give me that. You know when I tell you no about something like this, you don't go behind me to your mother. You know better than that, don't you?" When all he received was a low nod as a response, he nudged sternly, "Don't you?"

"Yes, sir," Bobby answered in a voice that subtracted at least six years off his life.

Satisfied now, Adam went on. "After breakfast I want you to go straight up to your room for a while."

Bobby argued immediately. "Aw, Dad, no."

"Do not start it, Bobby," Adam said sharply. "I think you need a little bit of time to remember what you're supposed to do when I tell you something is closed, no matter what it is. Now let's go eat before it gets cold."

The pre-teen did not say anything, just silently went after his father towards the back. As they entered the still flourishing garden, untouched by autumn just yet, Bobby only felt more agitated. He hardly ever got into trouble, let alone punished on a day his father would have to leave for four days. He knew he had only one person to blame, though. That stupid Tony Ramos.

*******

The French doors slammed shut so loudly behind her that Beth was sure her father had broken the glass. However, it did not seem to faze her as she merely marched ahead of the raging businessman.

"Bethany Margaret Foley," he fumed. "Shoplifting? Are you completely out of your mind?"

Although startled for a second by her full name, Beth realized she had been asked that out of mind question several times that week.

"Look," she said, "you can go back to work now. They dropped the charges. And it was just a few things."

"A two hundred dollar jacket and three hundred dollars worth of clothes and jewelry is not a few things," Richie retorted. "And I really don't care if it was so much as a stick of gum. Do you see where you live? Do you look at what you eat? Did you never notice that your closet is already so overflowing with clothes you already own, it's violated city regulation more than once? There is no remotely acceptable or sane reason in the world for you to even think about stealing."

"Whatever," Beth dismissed as she headed for the stairs, but surprise shot through her as she was pulled back fiercely by the arm.

"I am not even close to finished with you." Richie kept a vice grip on her as he spoke. "First, I have my voicemail exploding with calls from your school, asking for conferences because you seem to get lost on your way to class. But to sink yourself so low into petty thievery just for kicks? No, not as long as you carry my last name."

Beth tried to break away from him as she said maliciously, "Well, why don't you just have a kid who can actually honor your name? You know the third time is supposed to be the charm."

Less than a second after the snide remark left her lips, Richie's backhand came like a lash of fire right across her mouth. Too stunned to speak, the teenaged girl who now looked the picture of a timid four-year-old used her free hand to cover the area that had been struck while her glossed brown eyes stared in near terror at her father.

"You selfish, ungrateful, senseless little smart ass." Richie's voice stayed low yet sharp as he went on, squeezing tighter on the thin arm of hers he held. "Don't in your wildest dreams speak to me that way. Ever. If you can't seem to use the half common sense you have, I will simply send you somewhere to have you controlled. I don't care if it's boarding school in Connecticut or a convent in Switzerland. Do I make myself very clear?"

Still unable to speak, Beth managed a shaky nod.

"You will not end up a cheap little traitorous slut like your mother." Richie finally unhanded her with that. "Get out of my sight." When no movement occurred on the part of the girl, Richie barked, "Now!"

Beth flinched then made a mad dash for the stairs, unable to stop until she reached the safety of her bedroom.

Not bothering to watch her depart, Richie made a move for his bar. He picked up the clear bottle of vodka, studied the label for a moment, then promptly threw it right against a painting on the back wall, causing them both to smash upon contact. A whole new breed of rage overtook the strapping male blonde in that moment as he flipped over the entire beverage cart. He left behind deep puddles of multiple wasted drinks and an unknown amount of shattered glass as he went into his home office and slammed the door after himself.