Author's notes:

Ran - Man, we're on such a roll with this story, it's almost scary. Don't expect this awesome train to stop any time soon.

Kage - I still feel like I'm being horribly mean to poor Michael and Sam and, well, most of them!

Ran - Oh. You are. Don't worry about that. But that's half the fun.

Max couldn't be happier. He knew he had made the right choice, knew the moment he saw her that she was the one he wanted. Lucy Emerson was perfect. She was already a mother, raised two boys, and he was looking forward to the whole family being brought into his. David was already working on the older one, having both Sam and Michael would make it easier to bring Lucy across. He knew he was being impatient, knew he needed to take his time, but he wanted her, oh, how he wanted her. Hopefully David wouldn't ruin it for him, the boys really did need a mother.

He smiled at her, had already ordered their wine for the night, and yet he was already beating himself up for choosing a white over a red.

"Lucy, thank you for joining me tonight." He smiled again, "Please, tell me more about yourself and what brought you to our fair city."

Lucy looked up from her lap, where she'd been nervously fiddling with her napkin, giving him a small, strained smile. "I, well…" she reached for her glass of water with one bird-like hand, taking an anxious sip before setting it back down in front of her. "I just got out of a...pretty tough divorce. Then I just decided to pack everything up and start fresh. My dad had a few spare rooms, and he's getting older, so I thought it was for the best if he got to know Michael and Sam while we get back on our feet."

She pressed a hand to her lips, suppressing a hiccup, "I hope I haven't said too much. When I just went to check up on Sam, I could swear I heard a girl with him…" She shook her head, "I'm really worried both of my boys aren't taking this move too well. I'd really hoped they would like Santa Carla...But...but what about you, hm? Tell me about yourself, Max."

He reached across the table, gently touching her hand, "I've been here a long time, it's gotten rather lonely." He paused, debating on how much he wanted to say, "I had boys of my own, they're grown now, but I know how difficult they can be. I'm sure Michael and Sam are good boys, they just need some time to get used to things. Maybe having a girl over is good for him, young love can be a beautiful thing." He smiled again, "I'm sure they will come to love Santa Carla, we have a lot to offer."

"Yes," she nodded. "I'm sure you're right. I haven't honestly been back here since I was a little girl…" her eyes searched about the restaurant for something to say, "a lot has changed. But...a lot hasn't. I can't thank you enough for giving me a job. I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't stumbled into you that night…"

Just then, a waiter cruised by with a large platter of salads and steaks. Lucy cleared her throat, "everything here must cost a fortune. I really shouldn't let you pay for everything. Please, at least let me cover the tip."

He shook his head, "No, I couldn't do that! I insist."

He glanced out the window, a familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach. David and the boys were there, glancing in, and Michael was with them, good, but there was something wrong. Something very wrong. He couldn't feel a connection with Michael but he knew the young man had drank, David had assured him of it. He pulled his glasses off, cleaning a smudge. David had turned him, it was David's blood, not his. He absently cleaned the other lense, jaw tightening slightly. This was not what he wanted, David had ruined everything. He would have to change his plans, getting Sam and Lucy would give him the edge, they would draw Michael to him, away from David. Although he still had to worry about the bond between them but David wouldn't know how to use it. The bleach blonde waved at him and he felt his teeth clench. This would have to be taken care of but in all honesty he wasn't sure how.

Lucy leaned forward, "Max...I don't mean to pry, but are you feeling okay? You've been polishing your glasses for at least five minutes...I'm sure they're clean…"

Her eyes trailed towards the window to see what might have drawn the man's attention, when she caught sight of those boys from the video store; not just them either, but Michael as well. Her lips twitched in concern, and she took another sip of water. She didn't think there was anything particularly wrong with them, except perhaps a flair for the dramatic, and a very...questionable wardrobe...but she wasn't too sure she liked seeing her oldest hanging around with them, either. Still, she supposed it was a good thing Michael was making friends. She'd have to ask him later about them, though, and find out exactly what sort of friends they were.

Behind her, she heard hurried crunching, and turned her head slightly to catch sight of what looked like a very hungry and...very voluptuous woman devouring her salad with gusto. Lucy looked back at her own plate and gingerly picked up her fork to flip a leaf over. She had suddenly lost her appetite.

Max slid his glasses back into place, looking at her sheepishly before picking up his fork, "Those boys…" He shook his head and immediately dropped his fork.

The woman who had been eating her salad screamed, jerking back from her table, and sending plates and silverware scattering across the floor. Expensive China broke into shards as the bowl of greens fell from the table. Her companion was on his feet, trying to calm her as she continued to scream hysterically.

"Beetles, there were beetles in my salad!" She sobbed, clinging to the man beside her.

Max took his glasses off and began cleaning them again.

Michael had half a mind to wave at his mom when the boys stopped and he spotted her through the restaurant window. What were the odds that they'd end up there of all places? Wait...was she on a date? When did this start happening?! They'd hardly even settled in yet, and she was out with some guy without even telling him? Did Sam know about this?

He knew he was being a bit selfish. His mom had every right to start dating again...but she could have at least mentioned it. Finding out that she was with some guy, and it looked like the same nerd who ran that video place she was working out...it almost made him feel like he wasn't even part of the family. Like keeping him informed wasn't even worth the trouble.

"Why are we stopping here?" He asked warily, looking around at the others. They hadn't really done much yet besides park their bikes and start walking...beginning the night with a pleasant little discovery like this wasn't really his idea of fun.

David grinned, "See, Max and I, well, we don't really get along. He thinks he can tell us what to do and we, well, we do what we want. He's got this thing for your mom. Honestly we had no idea he'd be here but we can't help but have a little fun when we see him." He paused, "We're actually going to go get you those boots." He grinned at Max through the window, watching as he started cleaning his glasses again, "Hey, look." He wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close and pointing to a young woman digging into her salad, "Bet she's a screamer." He laughed, watching as she jerked back from the table, screaming.

Michael wanted to shove David away in anger, but resisted the urge, "how the fuck do you know who my mom is?!" He hadn't introduced them. There was no way they would have seen them together the first night on the boardwalk. But he was momentarily distracted by the sudden odd occurrence in the restaurant, and his mouth gaped open like a fish, "how...how did you know she'd do that?"

David smirked, "Just look at her, she's fits a type. I didn't know she was going to scream right then but damn, I love coincidences." Whoops, okay, so maybe he could have phrased it a little differently but he couldn't help himself, Michael was fun to mess with, "Come on, time to do a little shopping, boots, maybe a new pair of pants, something darker."

With one quick glance over to Lucy through the window, Michael shrugged, "fine. Whatever. Starting to feel like you think I'm a dress-up doll, but I'll bite. As long as I'm not paying." He paused. "Wait...what's wrong with my pants? These are my lucky jeans..."

David led the way, grinning at the other boys. Michael was definitely a dress-up doll, at least until they fixed his sense of style, at least it wasn't as bad as his brother's. His choice of words was perfect though, they would have to get him to bite sooner or later, he really needed to get comfortable with the idea, not that his comfort mattered in the long run. What was really important was making him feel like pack.

Marko glanced back at Michael and then towards David with a private little smirk, "So, Davey, how do you feel about spangles?"

"I think you're going to get a black eye if you even try it," Dwayne snorted, drawing Michael's curious attention.

"Spangles? Are you serious? How about we put you in spangles? I think they'd look good on you, maybe weave some sparkles into your hair or some shit." David sneered, shaking his head.

Paul burst out laughing, tossing his head back, not able to help himself, "Oh, man…"

"And...you're sure Star's the only one who dropped acid tonight?" Michael exclaimed, eyes flicking warily over Paul.

David growled softly, smacking Paul upside the head, "It wouldn't surprise me if he did, the asshole, he hides his stash. I don't know half the shit he keeps in there. He doesn't get violent, usually a little out there, lost in his own thoughts. We put up with him because he's entertaining. At least most of the time." He paused, "Star's just batshit."

Michael kept his opinions to himself for the time being, but he was definitely going to keep a closer eye on Paul. The minute he started doing something funny, like screaming his head off about vampires and trying to claw someone's eyes out, Michael was gone. And anyway, school was starting soon...if he got caught even close to any kind of stash, he probably wasn't going to get a spot on any local teams.

He didn't really want to go back, but mom wasn't really letting him have a choice about it. Honestly, all Michael wanted to do was have a bit of fun before he had to buckle down and get a real job to help support his family. And whether Paul was a nutjob or not, at least he was interesting. Michael would give him that much credit.

David cocked his head to the side slightly, "Don't worry about his stash, we'll make sure he doesn't get into it around you." He stopped in front of their usual store, "Come on, pick out whatever you want, we'll pick some stuff for you too."

Michael raised his eyebrows in surprise, "do I even want to know how you got the money to do something like this?"

"Totally legal, Mikey!" Marko grinned.

"More or less," Paul snickered.

David rolled his eyes, grabbing a nice pair of motorcycle boots, black with silver accents, "What size?"

"Uh…" Michael looked down at his shoes and then sheepishly crouched over to pluck one from his feet, squinting to look inside and make out the faded number. Honestly, he hadn't bought new shoes in awhile. "...12...and...a half...I think," he shrugged, slipping the shoe back on and stomping to get it back in place as he tucked his hands into his jacket pockets.

Dwayne rolled his eyes finding a pair, "Try 'em."

"Wow, pushy much?" Michael snorted, taking the shoes from Dwayne and examining them. They were nice. He'd admit that...still, he couldn't help but think something about this whole scenario was all a little...off.

David shook his head, "Something wrong? They should be comfortable, we can always pick out a different pair."

"No...no, it's fine," Michael walked over to a small stool beside a wrack of belts and sat down, "I'm just...I don't know, I mean...you're a bunch of dudes and you're buying things for me like I'm a chick. It's weird." He paused. Maybe they felt guilty about nearly killing him during that stupid bike race. It made as much sense as anything else, he supposed. And the shoes were really nice...nicer than any he'd ever had, anyway. David was right, too, when Michael slipped them on. They fit like a dream. Maybe a little snug in the toes, but most shoes tended to be.

Marko grinned, "Look good!" He glanced around the store, trying to find something that sparkled, eye catching, that David would hate.

Paul leaned over to Marko, nodding at a sign above a door with a beaded curtain labeled 'adults only.' He wiggled his eyebrows and bit his bottom lip, trying not to cackle. Didn't want to scare Mikey again. Marko grinned, disappearing behind the curtain while David narrowed his eyes at him, watching him go.

Dwayne scowled, "Where's the little monkey going? Paul."

"Oz? The Emerald City? China? I don't know, why are you asking me?" Paul looked up at the ceiling, feigning his most innocent smile...which, admittedly, wasn't very innocent.

Michael was too focused on trying to find the price tag for the boots to notice. He was still really uncomfortable about this. If they cost too much, he was going to turn them down. David snagged them from him before he could find the tag, grabbing a pair of black leather pants, soft and supple, holding them out for him to try, hoping he got the size right.

Slowly reaching out to take the pants from David, Michael smiled weakly, "uh...thanks…" Leather. That was...how the hell would he explain something like that to mom? Still, clearly he wasn't getting out of this shop unless he tried a few things on. That didn't mean he'd take them, but it wasn't worth it to piss them off. Hell, they were trying to be nice. A little too nice, but they didn't seem like the type. So he guessed he'd just have to go with it.

"I'll just...go to the dressing room then…" Michael informed them, glancing about the building...and wouldn't you know it, the dressing room was right beside the beaded curtain to the adults only section. This was one freaky shop, he thought to himself, as he walked through the door. Everything about Santa Carla seemed a little freaky, though.

"Marko, where are you? What do you think you're doing? Where'd you run off to?" David's voice was a low growl in his head.

"Hey, they got any panties in there?!" Paul shouted aloud, shamelessly. He didn't even know the meaning of the word shame.

David shook his head, smacking him upside his blonde mullet, "Shut up, are you trying to drive our little halfling away?" His voice came out as a low hiss.

"Not to break up the tea party, but...don't those dressing rooms have mirrors?" Dwayne asked, idly picking at his nails with a switchblade while he leaned against the belt wrack.

"Shit." David looked toward the dressing room.

Michael glanced around the hallway, surrounded by about six stalls in total. No gender signs. No attendant...so...was he supposed to just pick one? Now he was beginning to wonder how many people had tried on these pants...he shrugged the thought away. Hopefully if they had been worn, they were pressed and clean afterwards. Sharing in the ball sweat of a dozen potential leather-fetish shoppers before him definitely wasn't something Michael even wanted to remotely ponder.

Maybe...maybe he could just pretend he tried them on. They wouldn't know, and he could just say they weren't the right fit. That seemed simple enough. Then, maybe, they'd just...stop with the boots. Okay, he really doubted it. Shopping had always been Sam's and mom's thing, not his. Most of Michael's closet was packed with stuff he'd gotten over the holidays, or when he was physically dragged to the mall against his will. Flashbacks of half-priced Sunday Sprees flitted through his mind, and he reluctantly trailed towards one of the stalls, pulling the door open and stepping inside. Someone had broken the mirror. Shattered bits of glass surrounded him, but he was way too busy focusing on the pants to notice the oddly half-translucent reflection of himself bouncing off of them.

Horror of horrors. The pants fit...and they felt nice. Dear god, he hoped he hadn't just discovered he numbered among those freaky leather fetishists too. That was just what he needed right now, he thought to himself, as he examined the seams on his legs and straightened them. All he had to do now was take them off, though, and tell the guys he'd prefer plain jeans, and he'd never have to explore that stomach churning possibility…

Still, now that he saw how great his legs looked, he was almost disappointed the mirror was broken. Maybe he could go look in one of the other stalls...he slowly cracked the door open and scooped up his jeans, flinching when the wood and hinges protested at the affrontery of being moved. Shit, now they'd probably come in there and manipulate him into actually accepting their (no doubt) needlessly expensive and kinky gift.

David pushed his way inside, letting out a low whistle, "Lookin' good, Michael. Put your boots on too." He held them out, waiting to see if he was going to freak out or not. The fact that he hadn't come out petrified by his lack of reflection was a plus at least, "I won't even pick out a new shirt for you." He grinned, eyes locked on his.

When Michael's eyes connected with David's he felt oddly compelled to wordlessly take the shoes and begin slipping them on. Words or protest about this little shopping excursion having fled his mind. "Uh...thanks. I think someone trashed this place, though," he nodded back to the stall. "Mirror's broken."

"Oh, right. I broke those mirrors the last time we came in here. Silly me," Dwayne remarked dryly in David's mind, leaning against the doorframe that led into the dressing rooms. Maybe he wasn't as loud and wild as the other two, but he had his moments.

David let out a sigh of relief, "You forgot? How could you forget?"

"Slipped my mind," Dwayne looked back at his nails and continued to clean them with the switchblade.

"Damn. So irresponsible!" Paul exclaimed, throwing an arm around Dwayne's shoulders and peering into the room. "Nice. Kinda got a Rod Stewart vibe now...bit taller though, aren't ya, Mikey?"

Michael quirked an eyebrow, "my name's Michael."

Marko grinned, coming in behind them and holding up the most blinged out jacket any of them had ever seen. It was an eyesore and David immediately cringed, "What is that?" His lip curled up in disgust, "How does that even exist?"

"Like I said. Emerald city," Paul's helpful contribution.

"Okay," Michael clapped his hands and laughed nervously, "I think that's enough shopping for today. Why don't we go? I think we should go. Yes. Definitely...let's go…" He practically darted from the room.

The boys laughed, following after, David hanging back to toss money at the counter, the girl cringing back from them before quickly scooping it up to put in the register. Once they were safely outside David seriously thought about grabbing the old worn jeans from Michael and throwing them away but he had a feeling the halfling would get pissed. Instead he stepped forward, looking over their newest member with pride.

"Much better." He clapped a hand on his shoulder, "So, boys, what should we do for the rest of the night?"

"Panty raid?" Paul suggested, rubbing his hands together.

"What is it with you and panties tonight?" Dwayne quirked an eyebrow.

Paul shrugged, "didn't eat dinner."

"Dinner has nothing to do with it, horndog, let's go for a ride!" Marko was practically bouncing.

David nodded, "A ride it is, show Michael some of the best places in Santa Carla."

Michael had to admit...that did sound pretty fun. "Alright, sure. Just...no racing this time, huh? I don't think my bike can take much more of that..."

Sam couldn't believe it. A girl. In his house. And no adults in sight...not even Mike to poke his fat nose in and bring up something stupid like non-existent tracks in his underwear, or an embarrassing rash he needed ointment for. Honestly, Mike could be such a dick when Sam tried bringing any girls around. Or just…in general. Yeah, in general.

"Soooooo...Diana…" Sam twiddled his thumbs together, sitting on the edge of the bed beside her, "how...is it...going?" Smooth. The greatest panty-peeling line ever invented. He wanted to slap himself in the face.

Diana couldn't help but giggle a little, smiling at him, "Going good, I'm really glad you invited me over tonight." She bit her lip slightly, her fingers gripping at her jeans, nervous, "So, umm, I know you like comics, what else do I need to know about the awesome Sam Emerson?"

Sam puffed out his chest with pride. Awesome? She thought he was awesome?! "I, uh," he cleared his throat, flexing one of his arms and smacking his bicep, "I do a bit of lifting. Yeah, got a whole routine going. You saw those weights in the front room? Those are mine. I'm a bit of a bodybuilder on the weekends," he lied. Lied so hard his teeth hurt. But this was a girl...in his bedroom...calling him awesome. He had to somehow live up to her expectations, or at least pretend he was.

"You see my brother around, he just borrows them. But they're mine. Really. All mine...have to take half the weight off for him when he tries to lift them. Poor guy...he's a big baby, really."

She smiled at him, hesitantly laying a hand on his leg, "Aww." She's humoring him but it's okay, she still really likes him, it's easy to tell, "It's okay, you have a brother? I bet he's not as cool as you. I bet he doesn't even like comics, what a loser."

He laughed, "well...okay, Mike's not that bad. He plays stupid pranks on me, but I do the same…" Sam indicated his black eye, "gave this to me this afternoon, too, when I stuck his hand in a cup of warm water while he was sleeping. Jerk's been pretty much staying out all night for like...three days now...and then coming home and sleeping all day. He's such a lunk-head sometimes, following this girl and some bikers around just to get some tail," Sam shook his head.

"Uh...you're not tail, though. I didn't...I didn't mean you were. I like you. Really. You're normal. Not tail...you get what I'm sa...okay, Sam, stop digging the hole. It's deep enough…" He took a deep breath and buttoned his lips, wanting to kick himself.

"Bikers? What bikers?" Her eyes go a little wide, seeming to ignore the hole he dug thanks to the mention of bikers. Her hand clenched on his leg, her throat working as she swallowed.

"Uh…" Sam lowered his eyebrows and looked up, "I mean...those...y'know, those guys wearing all that black shit, with the crazy hair and earrings...they even gave Mike one." Sam flicked his own stud, "nowhere near as cool as mine."

She swallowed again, "Umm, Sam, those guys, they're bad, like really bad, like Lex Luthor bad."

"What?! Nobody's that bad, Diana!" Sam blurted, shaking his head. "Wait...you mean...do they do...marijuana?" He whispered the last word, looking back towards his bedroom door. Maybe they're the guys grandpa bought it from…

She shook her head, "No, I don't think they do pot. There are stories, some people say they make people disappear in the middle of the night. That they kill people. They're responsible for all the bad things that happen in town. You look at them funny, or make one wrong move...I wouldn't want to be in your shoes. I'm telling you, Sam, those bikers are bad news. You know what people call them? 'The Lost Boys'. I wouldn't want to hang around anyone with a nickname like that, no sir!"

Yikes! "You...you think they wanna do the same thing to my brother? Kill him? Make him disappear?!" He was practically squeaking now. Sam was very impressionable, especially since he'd been powering through those dumb comics the Frog guys had given him.

"You said he had an earring, like them, does he look like them? Dressing like them? Maybe they're gonna make him one of them, like body snatchers."

Sam gulped, "he...he bought a jacket. But that was just to get some chick's attention. That and the earring is all. Still wears his dumb old sneakers and jeans, so...yeah, I don't think so." Even mom knew Mike would only stop wearing those jeans when they were pried out of his cold, dead hands. They'd actually gotten into fights about it.

She let out a sigh of relief, "Good, maybe you can talk him out of staying away from them, I don't want your brother to die." She paused, "I think he'll be fine, just watch him, okay?"

Sam nodded, "yeah! Definitely!" And suddenly, he was no longer in the mood to practice frenching anymore. Jeeze, what had Mike gotten himself into?

"I had...an interesting time, Max," Lucy said hesitantly at the front door, holding it open as she waited for him to say something. They had to rush this along. It had been an awful night, even if it wasn't Max's fault. She wasn't so sure dating her boss was a good idea, and certainly not if Sam was going to bring girls home when she was out of the house. "But...I just don't think I'm ready for a relationship right now. Would you...would you hold on for just a bit while I go check on Sam?" She didn't wait for an answer before she was heading swiftly up the stairs to give her youngest a piece of her mind.

Grandpa eyed the open front door with disdain, someone was here that shouldn't be. He stepped forward, peering out to see the skinny guy from the video store. His eyes narrowed at him. This one was bad news, he could smell the death on him, but he knew if he told Lucy to stay away she would think he was being overprotective. He was going to have to step up on the protections around the house.

"What do you want?" He eyed him wearily, not falling for the smile on his face.

"Well, I was hoping I could share a coffee with Lucy before we parted for the night. Maybe we could discuss our future."

Grandpa shook his head, "You can wait on the porch like everyone else." He stated firmly, "If my Lucy wants to talk to you I can't stop her but just know, I don't like you. Now, if you want to wait, wait, but you're not coming in this house, ya hear?" Max nodded, "Good." Grandpa shut the door firmly, he needed to go dig into his stash, bless the doorframe, stop them from coming inside, or at least give them a warning if one tried to.