Lance had been a toddler when his family went to spend a few years with his fathers family in the old country. A sea side town in Ireland where fishing and leather work was king, even in the modern age. He could still remember how his grandpa had taken him out into the trees and had taught him all about the plants that had grown there. His grandma had made him memorize all the old family stories so that when he entered kindergarten back home, he didn't know the alphabet, but he could tell you all about the fey and giants that used to travel the ancient world.

He soon realized that knowing all of that was never going to make him friends. So, forgetting everything, he focused on what every child did- what would make him popular with his peers.

Then came summer of third grade and his grandparents came to Cuba and quizzed him about the old stories all over again. Make sure he knew how important it was that he remember them. Stubborn, he refused to remember them the way they wanted him to and would stay outside, even during the hottest days, to avoid their lectures.

Then after eighth grade, when he was looking into the garrison, his father told him the family wanted him to visit overseas. So he went alone to visit the old country and again, listen to all the stories of the family.

"Why," Lance complained flopping down on an over stuffed chair halfway through the telling of Raymond and Gallia. Gallia was of royal blood, but was a bastard child and disowned. However she still held political purpose so when she fell in love with Raymond, an outcast child from a near by village, it raised a huge scandal. And instead of just a damaged reputation and a horrible news article written about you, scandal back them usually meant bloodshed and a lot of it.

"Genealogy is important," grandma replied, "my child, you are one who must remember."

"They sound like fake stories anyway," lance sighed, "I mean, I'm supposed to believe that this Raymond guy is the child of a village girl and a fey, right? So what, our blood is part fairy?"

Grandma sighed, "listen, foolish child, fey does not mean fairy. Fey simply means 'other worldly'. Get that through your head."

"Oh right, are you sure our ancestors didn't eat the ring of mushrooms they were sitting in?"

"Do you speak to your mother this way?"

"Absolutely not," Lance said firmly, "I'm not suicidal."

Grandma then chuckled, "Our youngest son left and married a wonderful woman, however, I must insist that you spend more time with this side of the family."

"Why me? Why not Marco or Rachel? They like these stories more than I do. I'm going to go into space! Like with sciency stuff. This fantasy crap isn't going to get me anywhere."

Grandma sighed again, "You were once such an open child…"

Lance rolled his eyes.

()

"I'm Lance McClain, you?" Lance beamed at the kid sitting across form him. The black haired boy scowled, stood and moved to another table.

"Rude much," Lance muttered and looked around. Everyone was already in pairs or groups. Of course they all had gone to the summer pre-training camp while he'd been in Ireland getting useless stories downloaded into his brain.

His eyes rested on another kid sitting by himself. He was of a thicker build, but he seemed to be jolly enough. So Lance took his tray over and introduced himself again.

"I'm Hunk," the other kid said smiling, "you in the engineering program?"

"Oh heck no," Lance laughed, "I'm going to be a pilot!"

"You and everyone else," Hunk sighed, "that's going to be competitive."

"yeah, but I've got skillz. You piloting or engineering?"

"Engineering," Hunk said a little shyly, "I know its not that big of a deal-"

"Ha!" Lance laughed again, "of course it is! Without you we wouldn't have ships to fly! I know I'm not smart enough to mess around there, so kudos to you."

Hunk beamed and they continued to talk and became fast friends.

()

Lance muttered under his breath as Keith, once again, surpassed him in practical's.

"What did you say?" Hunk asked, "was that Spanish?"

"No," Lance sighed, "that was Gallic, it's a curse my grandma taught me. In Spanish its 'pox en ud y su posteridad' but since it's a European phrase it doesn't translate very well…"

"You speak three languages?"

"technically four," Lance shrugged and gave a snarky grin, "five if you count pig Latin."

"But of course," Hunk said playing along, "who wouldn't?"

"Indeed, now you need to help me get at least a 'B' on this next assignment or they might just loose all hope in me."

()

"Allow me to put this as plainly as possible," Iverson replied placing Lances exam papers in the desk in between them, "This is disgusting. How you've managed to test INTO the garrison I still have yet to fathom. However, among the others who are barely managing to pass their classes, you are the only one that shows any potential worth notice."

"…thank you…sir?" Lance replied his gut churning with the convoluted insult and compliment.

"Don't thank me yet," Iverson growled, "You have the rest of this year to prove to me that you're ready to move up. Starting next year you may become fighter class instead of cargo."

Lance's heart leapt into his throat as Iverson kept going.

"I really hate making mistakes, McClain…don't be a mistake."

"NO SIR!"

()

"If you're going to pass," Hunk said looking down at his friend, "then you can't do this every time you sit down to study."

"But I'm booooorrrreeeedddd!" Lance whined in the open text book on the library table, "I can't seem to memorize any of these words and how they match up with what wire…what? I mean, I swear none of these are actual words. And don't get me started on our biology class."

"How are you able to learn so many languages? Memorization is the same thing, right?"

"Not at all," Lance said turning his head to look up at Hunk, "its more repetition. And I said I could speak them, I can't write or read them very well."

"then I guess we'll have to follow the repetition rule here," Hunk said re organizing the study material, "I want you to spend ten minutes on each topic and then move on. By the time you go to bed to night, you'll have repeated each lesson a number of times. We'll do the same thing tomorrow."

"Won't that just get confusing?"

"We'll stop if it does, just humor me."

"You're using me as a test subject, aren't you."

"yup, now get to work and test my theory."

()

Two months before the end of year exams Lance was called back into Iversons office.

"You're moving up effective immediately," he snapped, barely controlling his rage. Lance didn't argue and accepted his new room and class schedule.

()

"Duuude," Hunk breathed as they both looked over his new work load, "Will you survive?"

"Probably not," Lance was smiling either way, "But I'll still have you to help me out, right?"

"Of course," Hunk slapped his back, "Congrats man!"

()

Two months was not enough time to get used to the new schedule. Just as he thought he was getting the hang of it, they were taking their finals and everyone was talking about what they were going to do once they went home.

"Sir," Lance knocked on Iversons office door and was told to enter.

"What do you want McClain?"

Lance cleared his throat, "I was wondering if there was a summer program I could sign up for? Just so I can be ready for the up coming year. You know, to catch up with everyone?"

"there is not," Iverson replied standing and walking over to his book shelf, "However, I have material here that might help you IF you actually take the initiative and study this summer."

"Yes Sir!" Lance reached out and accepted the books from Iverson.

"I want those back in pristine condition, Cadet," Iverson warned and Lance nodded vehemently.

()

"congrats little brother!" Veronica beamed as he showed them all his new status at the garrison, "You're really moving up!"

"Was it you that put in a good word for me?" Lance asked. He'd been suspicious ever since Iverson had called him in the first time.

"Nope," Veronica grinned and shook her head, "I have no influence at all and I hate talking to Iverson. You did this on your own."

"Mom and dad will be so pleased to see this," his mother said propping the papers up as if they were a picture instead.

"Nana and pop are coming over?" Lance asked.

"Not Nana, grandma and grandpa McClain are coming over to see how you are doing."

"You know," Rachel said, "cause you're their favorite."

"Well, you're moms favorite AND Auntie Graces favorite, so I had to squeeze in there somewhere," Lance retorted.

"Whatever," Rachel scoffed, "You're the baby, you're the favorite by default!"

"I was just trying to make you feel better," Lance said placing a hand on her shoulder, "just accept it."

She shoved his and he retaliated. Even when they were scolded to stop, they continued to rib each other.

"Can't you all just get along?!"

()

"AH!" Grandma McClain exclaimed when she spotted them outside the terminal, "my little boy is no longer little!"

"Hello Grandma," Lance said bending over to give the little woman a hug.

"I hoped you would take after your mother," She mockingly scolded, "How are you Lillian?"

"I am doing just fine mother," Lance's mom said giving the woman a hug as well, "we've got your room set up just the way you like it."

"Oh you needn't go through that much trouble," Grandma scoffed as she followed her daughter-in-law out of the airport, "We're old and don't care about much anymore."

But they knew better. While the women went to the car, Lance helped his grandpa get the luggage.

"You look more like your Uncle than your father," Grandpa observed.

"Dad said the same thing, I don't know if he's upset or not."

"Nah. They get along fine now. A number of years ago I would have told you he meant it as an insult, but after they settled their differences, they are much better together."

"You sound relieved."

"Every parent is relieved when their children finally become friends," Grandpa said, "it takes a while, but we all hope and pray that it will happen while we are still alive."

They laughed and made their way out to the parking lot.

()

The way grandmother liked her room was with bundles of different herbs stationed in different parts of the room. In each of the corners was a small bundle of lavender, above the window was sage and holly, and on the dresser was thyme. Lances mom and dad had said it was an old superstation, and where they didn't think much of it, it helped grandma sleep better.

That week Nana and Pop came over to visit with the McClain side of the family. They talked and all were very pleased to hear about Lances advancement.

Unlike other families, both sides got along very well. Nana was very eager to hear about the village gossip in Ireland, and Grandma was likewise eager to hear about the mission activities Nana was up to.

Grandpa simply raised a black gift bag in Pops direction and both men left the house to sit in the back yard. Whisky and Bourbon from Dublin was something Pop would never pass up.

"Aren't you going to follow?" Marco asked his father. John McClain raised an eyebrow.

"And interrupt their silent bonding? Not on your life."

All in all, it was a pleasant summer vacation. More than once Lance had called Hunk almost in tears because of the jibberish that seemed to swim off the page as he read. He also recruited Veronica to help him out.

But in the end, he couldn't bring himself to focus, especially when the weather was so hot. More often than not he'd found himself downstairs where is was cooler, listening, once again, to Grandmas and Grandpas stories.

"So, what was the feys name again? The one that Gwenilin supposedly found and had a kid with?"

"She never spoke his name," Grandma said tugging at her cross stitching, "names hold power, remember? Especially fey names. There's no record of it either."

"Sooo, we all know it's a fey be-cauuuuse…"

"that is what our history has always dictated," Grandma said, "oh that reminds me, Owen, show him that picture we took by the cost."

"Ah," Grandpa smiled, stood, and left in search of the picture. Once he'd found it, he showed it to Lance. It was a younger Grandpa and him as a little child. They were grinning and holding up a fishing net that they had tied together.

"Wow," Lance said, "I have a black eye in this picture."

Grandma chuckled, "not so. That was a birthmark. You were born with a mark just below your left eye and it faded about the time you turned five."

Lance frowned. He didn't remember having a birthmark or anyone even mentioning that he'd ever had a birthmark…let alone one on his face!"

"I was born with the same mark," Grandma replied and tapped her cheek, "Mine faded when I was about eight. At the time I had been very glad. I was bullied relentlessly because of it. Then I spoke with My great aunt Charri, who had also been born with this mark. She taught me all the stories I'm telling you. Its our tradition. A very long one."

"Why didn't you just tell me that before?"

"I guess I'm just stubborn," she sighed, "I wanted you to want to learn it without in incentive. But I realize that if you're serious about this space stuff, then I should be serious in explaining to you how important this is to your blood line. We don't know when another child will be born with the special mark that runs in our family, but it is important that these tales get passed down and are not forgotten."

"Why?" Lance asked, "They're just stories and we can just write them down."

"If no one is born who you can pass the stories to, then do as you see fit," Grandma replied, "I'll be gone by then so I wont complain."

"that didn't answer my question, grandma."

"I don't know why," She said finally putting her needle down, "These are what I was told myself. I am passing everything I know, as little as it may seem, to you. And you will be charged with passing it on as well. If writing it down will help you remember, then do it, but don't let anyone else read them."

"that makes even less sense," Lance sighed. Why not let anyone read them if the whole family already knew the stories and they had even told some of their friends? At least Rachel had…she had a group of friends that were into that sort of thing. So what was the point?

"Sometimes you just need to have faith," Nana replied looking up from her book for the first time since he'd come down stairs, "you don't need to question everything."

"Oh," Grandma interrupted, "I believe in questioning everything. But I agree that this is faith based. Question it, but do it anyway. That way you will be able to back out quickly if it happens to be the wrong choice."

"I like that as well," Nana nodded, "what is that saying that is popular these days…'just get it done'…'just run to it'?"

"It's a slogan, Nana," Lance sighed, "its 'just do it'."

"A very black and white slogan," Nana nodded, "I like it."

Lance sighed again. Why did all his older siblings have lives? He was a late child. Born well after the other four. So while they were all off living their lives, he was still in school and beholden to home rules.

()

"LANCE!"

"HUNK!"

They embraced and Lance slapped the big guys back. They quickly started to exchange stories when a hand was shoved into Lances face, pushing him back.

"Hey!?"

"Go say bye to Mom and Nana," Veronica said jerking her thumb behind her, "Grandma may have left last week, but you should know better than to just leave them without a proper good bye."

Lance rolled his eyes, "Just give me a sec, Hunk."

"Not at all," he shrugged and turned to Veronica, "I'm Hunk."

Lance walked away as his friend and sister talked. Outside were his parents and grand parents. He gave them all hugs and kisses and Nana told him to remember to have faith.

His mother and her family were strict Catholics. Very. Very strict. So he just smiled and nodded.

"Anything you say Nana," he said.