A three-chapter sequel to Three Miles an Hour. Trevor is now twelve and Jaz is eighteen. Having long since settled in at Ellen's house and at the Roadhouse, things have calmed down in their lives, and they've obtained some sense of normalcy. But somehow, they knew not all the trouble was behind them.

Rated: K+

More of a Home

Chapter 1:

Jaz nodded to the couple as they left the bar, getting two nods in return, and went to their table to collect their bill and tip. She never expected big tips with customers that came to the Roadhouse, not because they were cheap, but because they didn't have much money to tip with. It was unusual as a hunter to have a steady source of income.

Walking over to the register and inputting the bill, she thought back to the conversation she'd had with Ellen just a few days before, the first night she'd spent as an eighteen-year-old. It was funny how things had changed so much in the past year and a half. Though she'd been worried at first of making it to eighteen without being noticed by someone, being forced to give up Trevor to the foster system, it was no longer a concern of hers. Of course she still worried, she would worry until he turned sixteen, but they were safe and that was what mattered. They were off the radar, not just of CPS but also of anyone that may take the fact that she could astral project and her brother could read minds a little bit the wrong way.

"Ellen?"

Ellen looked up from her book at the knock at her bedroom door. "Jaz? Something wrong?"

"No, I just…." Jaz paused, trying to find the right words.

Ellen smiled slightly. "Oh. Come on," she said, patting her bed. "I knew you'd want to talk." Jaz walked over and sat down on Ellen's bed, clasping her hands in her lap. "So. You start."

"I really love it here," Jaz said with a genuine smile. "Trevor loves it here. We've stayed safe. I've learned so much from you. And I have a great thing going working at the Roadhouse."

"But?"

"No. That's the thing. There is no but," Jaz said. "For the longest time, I had this whole plan that I'd help Trevor get control over his ability, we could make it until I turned eighteen and then, God willing, I could adopt him, put him back in school, I'd save up enough money for him to go to college, go from there. But now…."

"You don't know whether you want to change the plan," Ellen murmured.

"I don't know what to do," Jaz whispered, her voice shaky.

"Jaz…you will always be welcome here. You're welcome to stay as long as you like. And I know you know that. So if you want to start the wheels turning getting Trevor adopted…see what needs to be done and if you really could swing that…you could send him to school from here."

"I-I just…. I don't know if this would be the best place…for him to be. Forever," Jaz said. "Or at least…you know, until he graduates."

Ellen nodded slowly. "Around hunters, you mean. This is the safest place for you technically, but at the same time, in a different way, it's one of the most dangerous because of Trevor's ability." Jaz nodded slowly. "Did you ask him?"

"Yea. I mean it's more like he asked himself," she said with a dry smile. "Hard to keep anything from him. And he said that he knows why I'm worried and what I'm worried about, but he feels the same way that I do; this is more of a home than we've ever had before. And I don't want to…tear him away from that."

"You're just considering doing it for his own good anyway," Ellen murmured. Jaz pursed her lips, looking down to her hands. "Well…you want my opinion. So I'll give it to you." Jaz met her gaze again. "I think you should stay here. I know that you don't want to feel stuck here, to put down roots when you aren't sure if you want to spend forever here, but you can always pull up those roots and put 'em down somewhere else. If Trevor's happy, if he's comfortable, and so are you, then I think that's what's important. Radical changes in his life, and yours too, aren't something you should be eager to go for. So that's what I think. I think you should stay."

After some more consideration on the subject, Jaz had decided to do just that. She'd been getting some great homeschooling materials for Trevor as well as herself, so they'd been keeping up with a normal curriculum. Not to mention that he seemed to be getting very smart with all the things he overheard. He had a better vocabulary than any twelve-year-old she'd ever met. She knew that as long as he kept that up, he'd be able to go to college. Nothing Ivy League, but he could get a degree, get somewhere with his life. Honestly, she was happy with where she was.

Jaz checked her watch, which read 10:35 PM. The saloon was empty, save for three guys that had apparently been on a road trip and stopped in and were splayed around a table recounting stories, a little too loudly for her taste. It was unusual for the Roadhouse, but occasionally happened. Ellen had gone to the house to get some bills she'd wanted to work on, so Jaz took the opportunity to go over the stock at the bar, taking down what they were low on so she could check in the back and make sure they weren't out.

"Hey! 'Nother round for my boys!" called one of the guys.

Jaz glanced over before putting down the pad of paper and grabbing a drink tray and laying it flat on her hand, heading over to gather the empty glasses. "Same?" she asked, gathering them up on the tray. "The Miller on tap?"

"Yes ma'am," he replied with a lazy nod, leaning back in the chair. The young man she'd found out was named Aaron was none too subtle as he leered at her chest and Jaz wished that she'd ignored the August weather and gone with a turtleneck. Hunters tended to have better manners than that. Either that, or just other things to think about. Guys like the ones in front of Jaz, however, she doubted did much thinking at all. Not from the level of intelligence she'd heard in the last hour from their conversation.

"Coming right up," she said, no inflection in her voice whatsoever. As she turned to go back to the counter, Jaz got a smack on the ass and her expression tightened, only the experience of many trips to and from the counter with things on her tray keeping the glasses from smashing on the ground.

After a brief moment of pause, Jaz went back to the bar, putting down the tray, and considered the many acts of revenge she could get, the least of which being dropping a laxative into his drink. Convincing herself that she was above such childish pranks, Jaz simply put the glasses in the sink and filled some new ones.

Walking back to the table with the refills, Jaz caught Trevor's narrowed eyes peering through the small window from the kitchen at the group of young men. She sent him a warning glare and a quick message of, "I'm fine. They're just assholes. Stay back there." He glared back briefly before rolling his eyes and heading back to the television in the back room.

"Anything else I can get you?" she asked unconsciously, no particular sense of emotion in her voice, as she put down each of the drinks on the table.

"Oh, I could think of a few things," murmured Aaron, the one she'd realized was the most arrogant of the three.

"Anything you'd have a chance of getting?" Jaz asked, expressionless.

The young man narrowed his eyes and Jaz inwardly sighed. "Is that so?" he asked her. "Come on, there's no way you're still jail bait, right?"

Jaz forced herself to bite back a smart response. She just gnashed her teeth together for a second before turning and going back to the bar. She let out a sigh and rolled her eyes as she heard the screech of a chair moving back and footsteps following her. "Hey. I asked you a question."

"Not an appropriate one," Jaz replied, putting down the tray and going over to wash the glasses in the sink.

"Not an appropriate one?" Aaron repeated, smirking. Jaz saw him lean against the wall at the end of the bar, arms folded, in her peripheral vision. "It's a compliment."

Jaz did some quick math in her head. Ellen had headed back to the house at about ten fifteen. Fifteen minutes there, fifteen minutes back. As long as she knew exactly where the bills were and which ones she wanted, she should be back soon. And Jaz didn't want to call her to ask her to come back. Call it pride, call it plain annoyance, but she didn't want to go running to her at any sign of trouble. She did wish that at least a hunter or another customer would come wandering in though. She didn't want to start anything.

"A compliment normally comes with a polite inflection of flattery," she replied, not turning back to him. "That was just offensive."

"A po-lite in-flection of flattery?" he asked, his eyes narrowed. "So what, you think you're too good for me? That it?" He walked up to her and leaned against the wall.

Jaz put down the glass and wiped her hands on a towel, facing him. "You aren't allowed behind the bar," she firmly told his dilated pupils.

"You're working at some run down bar in nowheresville, Nebraska and you think you're too good for me?" Aaron asked.

"I said you aren't allowed behind the bar," she repeated.

"Ya. I heard you. But I'm a paying customer and I don't think you should be insulting me."

"She said you aren't allowed behind the bar." Aaron turned around to see Trevor standing ramrod straight, just outside the door to the back room.

Damnit. "Trevor, go watch TV," Jaz said tensely, moving her eyes to glare at him.

"And who is this?" Aaron asked, cocking his head slightly as he swaggered over to Trevor. "Little bro?" Trevor just stared up at him. Aaron leaned down to Trevor's level, his hands on his knees.

Jaz swallowed. She didn't like the look on Trevor's face. He was really pissed at this guy, and she had no doubt it wasn't just because of what he'd said to her; it was what he was thinking too. Trevor didn't usually have to deal with hearing the thoughts of pigs like these guys. With hunters, at the worst it was the guilt of a hunt gone wrong and the violent recollection of it.

"You know, Trevor, your sister is being really not nice to me," Aaron said slowly. "And I'm a paying customer."

"She's being pretty damn nice to you considering the way you've been acting," Trevor told him in a low voice. "So I think that you should pay your bill, take your friends, and get your disgusting, male chauvinistic, arrogant, limey ass out of here."

Jaz stared wide-eyed at her brother for a moment, astonished, before she hissed, "Trevor!"

"You are just a piece of work, aren't you?" Aaron growled. He reached forward, grabbing Trevor's arm, but Jaz barely had time to snap, "Hey!" before Trevor reacted.

Grabbing the young man's hand, Trevor twisted it hard, pulling him forward. Trevor snapped his knee up into Aaron's chin, sending him sprawling back, hunched over as his hand flew to his chin. Trevor took two steps forward, swung a right hook, catching him across the jaw, and rotated his body swiftly, kicking him in the stomach, sending the air whooshing from his lungs. Jaz stared, stunned, as Aaron stumbled back and fell to the ground.

The other two young men, who had been watching the exchange from the table as if it were an episode of Cops, leapt to their feet. "You little punk!" cried one of them.

"Trevor!" Jaz cried, darting forward.

Jaz barely made it two steps before Trevor easily countered the swing at his head from the young man that had meant to throw him back. Trevor grabbed the young man's wrist and pulled him forward, off balance. He slammed his fist into his nose, bringing his knee up into his stomach, and then flew a roundhouse kick through the air and into the side of his head, sending the young man crashing to the ground. Trevor slipped cleanly into a fighting stance, breathing hard, ready for another attack.

The third of them somehow had enough brains to take a step back rather than go after Trevor. Aaron stumbled to his feet, backing up, and the third hauled the second up from the floor. Aaron stared at Trevor for a few seconds, cradling his jaw as blood leaked from the side of his mouth, before growling freak and turning, storming out of the saloon, the other two right on his heels.