Cupid's Last

Quality Time

December III

Serena was straddled on his bike, facing him.

With (maybe) any other girl, in (almost) any other situation, it would have been an arousing position that would've made Darien grin from ear to ear. At the moment, however, his mouth was pressed into a muted line, murmuring words into his passenger's ears; the same words, in fact, that he'd been saying over and over again since he'd zoomed out of the park in a panicked cloud of exhaust,

"Hang on, Serena. I'm here, I'm here."

Darien had caught her before she could crack her skull on the pavement. And Darien, like the jackass Serena expected him to be, stared at her for a moment, half-expecting her to suddenly sit up and scream, "GOTCHA!" with that giddy laugh of hers.

But when she didn't, Darien had all but sprinted for his motorcycle, positioning her in front his body and bracing her, all the while calculating how quickly he could get to the hospital because he knew he couldn't sit still holding her non-responding body waiting for someone else to save it.

And so he speeds on the road at over 10 miles the legal limit and he holds on to her tightly because he's worried (scared super shitless out of his mind actually) that she could fall (and break) from his grasp, and it suddenly hits him (like a piano dropping on his chest from the top of the Empire State Building) that Serena Tyler (his nemesis, his partner, his friend – although he doesn't know when that happened) is important to him. But not like the I-have-an-exam-on-Monday important, but the kind of important that makes him think I-will-miss-all-my-exams-for-the-rest-of-the-semester-if-she-would-just-

"Wake up. Please," God, was he actually pleading? "Just wake up, Serena."

And he repeats this phrase with a lot of "Hang on"s (even though he was the one that needed to hold on) and "It's okay"s (even though it clearly wasn't) and several other reassuring words that he knows she can't hear but he says them anyway against the force of the wind because he's the one that needs to hear them too.

Then, two red lights and about four illegal turns later, he hears something else.

And it sounds female…

Darien gave a small curse as he missed slamming headlong into a street lamp by one flailing, blonde pigtail as he pulled off the side of the road. For the first time since he caught her at the park, Darien pulled Serena away from his body and nearly died of relief.

"D-Darien?"

And even though she's wincing and clearly in discomfort, Darien can't think of any other time she looked better than she did now: just alive, looking at him, her mouth parting to say,

"What the hell happened?"

The voice of an angel with a mouth of a sailor. And man did it feel good to hear.

"I could ask you the same thing." He shot back and restrained himself from crushing her with a relieved hug. "You passed out and fell."

Serena blinked, as if suddenly remembering. "…Oh."

"'Oh?'" Darien repeated, incredulous. "That's all you have to say?"

Serena glared and he was relieved to see it. It meant she was okay enough to be irritated at him.

"Would you prefer, 'thank you, my stud-muffin?'"

The beginnings of a cracked smile formed on his face despite her attitude. "I'll take an explanation over gratitude right about now."

"Well too-oo-" She faltered and Darien frowned as Serena clutched at her chest once more. Not a good sign.

"Shit." He muttered. "Do you think you can hang on to me? The hospital's just-"

"NO!" Serena shouted the word so quickly that Darien was actually a taken back. She repeated adamantly, "No. No hospitals."

"You're sick and coughing up blood." Darien countered tersely, just a little irritated and bewildered that she was still arguing with him. Jesus. "You need to get to the hospital now."

"No." She repeated once more, this time not as harsh as earlier. "Please, Darien. Please, no hospitals."

And he opened his mouth to argue with her but stopped short. Serena was staring at him with huge, watery blue eyes that were just a little too desperate for him to fight back against.

He sighed, a little lost. "I have to take you somewhere Serena." He insisted. "You're clearly sick."

As if God wanted to prove Darien's point, Serena began coughing up another storm. Darien's arms went around her instinctively to brace her.

"…time."

"What?" Darien pulled away, certain she had just said something in between her coughs.

"A Moment in Time." Serena wheezed out the name of her aunt's shop. "We can go the-"

Here, the coughs seemed to overwhelm her once more and she slumped forward once more, falling forward to rest her head on his chest…

"Let me go, Art." Darien pressing against Artemis' chest, trying to look over his very tall shoulder. Geez. Was Keith gonna get this freakishly tall too?

"I'll let you go once you stop crushing my arms." Artemis gestured to the sides of his arms which Darien clutched to in a vise-like grip.

"I'll stop crushing your arms if you move the rest of your body out of my way!" Darien retorted, backing up nonetheless. He gave Artemis a frustrated glare and ran a hand through his hair agitatedly for maybe the twelfth time in the last half hour.

Darien had carried Serena's unconscious body into the shop and had resolutely refused to hand her off to anyone. It took a maternal glare from Luna to get him to lower Serena onto a couch in Trista's private office, where the women had locked themselves into now.

Artemis felt a twitch in his eye. Between Keith's romantic epiphany, Darien's overreaction, and Serena's continuous (and slightly psychotic) demands, he was steadily losing his patience and a good bit of his sanity to boot.

"I'm not going to move out of your way because if I do," Artemis continued in a calming low and slow voice, "You're going to storm into that room," He gestured to Trista's office where Luna was treating Serena however way she could. "And get in the way of whatever it is your aunt is doing to take care of Serena. And I know," He hastily added before Darien could assert himself. "That you're worried for her, but I'm sure your aunt has it under control."

Even when everything in the hospital goes to crap, the professionals working in them are supposed to maintain a certain standard of … reliability.

Sigh. "Damnit."

Needless to say, cursing in front of a client while their niece is passed out in front of her isn't really part of that standard.

"Luna, please don't do that." Trista made the words come out as a simultaneous plea and warning at the same time. She smoothed Serena's brow. "At least not when I'm within earshot."

"I'm sorry," Luna mumbled distractedly, gazing down at Serena, eyes closed, breathing labored. She bit her lip, thinking, before turning to Trista.

"Look," She said. "I know Serena said no treatments but you must have something. Anything that you've used for her-"

"Left cabinet," Trista didn't miss a beat, nodding to her desk. "Bottom drawer, behind the whiskey."

"Whiskey?" Luna smiled wryly. "I had you down as a wine woman."

Trista brushed Serena's bangs out of her face and remarked softly, "Life's just full of little surprises."

"What are you doing here anyway?"

Artemis wanted to groan. He'd spent about two minutes wrestling Serena from Darien's grasp after he'd walked into the shop, and an additional ten arduous minutes trying to calm Darien down …only for Darien to direct his attention on another potentially damaging piece of evidence: Artemis' presence.

"For that matter," Darien went on slowly. "What's Luna doing here too?"

Oh, what was that sound? Why, it almost sounded like the proverbial fan was beginning to whirl riotously, just waiting for shit to hit it…

Artemis didn't look at him directly,

"I have no idea."

Oh, and look, the crap was coming out of Artemis' own mouth. How sweet.

"But you were talking to her."

"No I wasn't." Artemis defended as convincingly as his own brother's denial of affection for Mina Aden.

"Art, I walked in on you with her."

"Don't phrase it like that," Artemis grimaced. "It sounds wrong."

Darien paused for a moment, scrutinizing Artemis. The elder man held his breath, waiting for another accusation… until Darien seemed to assent and turned away, looking at the door to Trista's office once more.

"What's really wrong," Darien said slowly, "Is that you're taking me for an idiot."

Artemis froze, partially aware that he probably had a deer-caught-in-headlights expression on his face. Darien's own face was a mixture of frustration and anxiety as he demanded,

"What the hell is going on Art?"

"You passed out for a little bit." Trista said as she helped Serena sit up. Serena nodded, dazed.

"I figured." She replied, reaching for the glass of water. "I was a little more curious as to why she's here."

Luna gave the finger Serena pointed at her a disdainful look.

"Good afternoon to you too Miss Tyler." She said dryly.

"Dr. Maui was visiting me." Trista explained. Serena gave a crooked smile.

"Giving the weekly report, Doc?"

"I was," Luna said tersely. "Until you showed up passed out in my nephew's arms."

Serena swallowed. "Yeah, about that-"

"Your nephew?" Trista cut in surprised, looking from Luna to Serena. "Serena, I thought you said that you were working with that horrible boy that snipped off one of your pigtails three years ago."

"Yes, that would be my nephew Darien." Luna replied with a sigh. "If it makes you feel any better, Trista, this," She cleared her throat, "'Meatball-head' as Darien referred to her, retaliated rather nicely by tossing a balloon filled with Nair at him."

"Oh yes," Trista nodded thoughtfully. "I remember that call from their principle." She made a face. "She wasn't happy."

"Almost as happy as Darien was when he had to walk around with his right eyebrow singed off."

"It's not my place to say."

"You can say something can't you?" Darien insisted, glaring. He'd had a feeling something was rotten with Serena asking him for help months ago. His suspicions had been solidified in the recent weeks with too many things falling into place whenever Serena wanted it. And now she was sick and too many people were at this shop to be a coincidence.

"…Serena." The last of Artemis' words shook him out his thoughts.

"What?"

"I said," Artemis repeated, rubbing his temple. "Ask Serena. Whatever explanations you want, only she can give them to you."

Darien stared at him for a few moments until the young man realized that Artemis wasn't going to give him anything more. So he swiped his hand through his hair (again) and tiredly announced,

"I just want some answers, Art."

Then Artemis finally looked at him and Darien felt himself cringe inwardly. The older man's mouth was twisted into a faintly pitying smile,

"Not to the questions you're looking for."

And then the door Darien had been boring his eyes into swung open…

"Wait wait!" The bell chimed over his head as he opened the front door and chased after her. "Serena, hang on!"

"Come on Darien." She called over her shoulder at him like nothing was wrong. "We still have work to do. True love can't happen without its mascots!"

He reached out and grabbed her arm, "I said 'wait' woman!"

"What?" Serena turned on him, exasperated. "Come on, we're already delayed as it is."

"Are you seriously going to pretend like nothing happened?"

She shrugged carelessly. "Nothing did happen."

He stared at her. "You pass out like a log, spitting blood at me and then I find my aunt and Keith's brother in your aunt's shop?" Darien released her arm and looked at her intently. "Serena, I'm not an idiot. What the hell is going on here?"

For a moment, he expected her to continue her charade and keep lying to him; to joke off what just happened and attempt to change the topic once more like she'd been doing to him for the past few months. But this was Serena. And she never really did things the way he expected her to.

"It's nothing you need to worry about." She replied calmly, and a warning bell went off in Darien's head; because Serena was never even-headed about anything.

He crossed his arms stubbornly,

"I'll decide that."

"No you won't." Serena's tone was stern and a stubborn glint hit her eyes as she met his gaze head-on, unwavering, steady... Un-Serena-like.

"Look, Carson, you've got two choices." She told him flatly. "You can either get on this bike with me and we can go to the temple like we planned. Or you can walk back into the shop and ask questions you don't need the answers to."

"How do you know that I don't need those answers?" He demanded.

"Because they won't change anything." She returned like it was the most obvious thing on the planet.

"I'll be the judge of that." He threw at her, shifting to walk straight back into the shop and demand some explanations for something that apparently everyone else knew about except him.

"You turn around and our deal is done Carson."

He stopped, mid-turn.

Was she serious? A quick look at Serena's face told him she wasn't joking. Her eyes were steady, her lips pressed to a grim line. But he was too shocked at the ultimatum that he asked dumbly anyway,

"What?"

"You promised to help me out with my plans." She reminded him plainly. "If you walk away now, I'll consider our deal null and void."

Of all the ridiculous things to bring up now of all times!

"…Are you serious?"

"Very." She replied with no hesitation. "So either come with me or go to them. But the second you walk back in there, I'm gone and we're over."

A few months ago, he would've kept walking even after such a ludicrous challenge. But Darien knew it, he felt it, as tangible as her limp body was in his arms just an hour ago; she was serious. And she wasn't just talking about their project. Serena's words had a finality to them, like the last words of a book, with only blank spaces ahead of it, forewarning of the hollow future, empty, "the end", with only the 'thump' of the hardcover left to hear when you shut the book close. But it was such a silly idea that Darien could only stare at her.

And he kept staring. As if by staring at her shuttered face, the answers to all his questions would magically come out of thin air in front of him. But they didn't. So he had to ask at least once more,

"…What the hell are you hiding Serena?"

He watched her swallow the truth thickly. Then, she said quietly,

"…Get on the bike." And he saw how her hands fisted on either side of her thighs as she added even quieter, "Please Darien."

And he walked towards her. And he passed her the helmet he didn't have time to put on her earlier. And he straddled his bike and waited for her to climb behind him as he tugged on his riding gloves.

And when she placed her arms around his waist, he allowed one hand to briefly (very very briefly) to pose over her clasped hands, silently assuring himself that she was still there and still holding on to him.

And he told himself to let this go for now. Because when she had said,

"Get on the bike."

He knew she was really saying,

"Come with me please."

And he revved up his bike, drove away from A Moment in Time with three all-knowing silhouettes standing at the window, and pushed aside the pressing questions in his mind because he somehow knew that Serena was going someplace bad. And he knew that if she was…

He squeezed the clasped hands underneath his gloved fingers lightly.

…Darien knew he couldn't let her go alone.

Raye's favorite color was red. Her mother wore it a lot when she was alive and Raye remembered thinking that Risa Hino looked beautiful when she did. It was a sensual, passionate color that, when paired with her jet black hair and cat-like violet eyes, turned Raye into the ultimate symbol of exotic seduction.

But at the moment...

"I don't understand what the problem is."

Raye couldn't help but think it was a really gross color.

"I just asked if you knew where Jason was." Ms. Anne Dupree (soon to be Mrs. Alan Exuro) tucked a strand of amber-red behind her ear. Raye followed the motion, watching the ring on Anne's ring finger glitter at her. The teenager crossed her arms in front of her chest and bluntly said,

"I think you should stop coming here." Anne's eyes narrowed at her.

"Excuse me?"

"I said," Raye repeated, unfazed. "That I think you should stop coming here. I don't really know the full story about your relationship with Jason, but I can see what it does to him every time you decide to pay him a visit." She said, watching Anne's body stiffen and those hazel eyes become deadly slits. Raye met the glare and raised a haughty eyebrow at the woman. "He doesn't want to see you, let alone speak with you. If he was anyone remotely important to you, you'd honor his wishes."

Anne stared, clearly appalled. Who was this, this... child to speak to her like this? Tilting her pointed nose back, she assessed the little trollop. She was younger than Anne, probably still in high school, she scoffed. But those wise eyes and striking bone structure unnerved Anne, especially as she stood her ground (on her grounds to boot) telling Anne to go away.

"You're right." Anne began slowly. "You have no idea what our relationship is like so you really shouldn't be making commentary on it."

"I'm not making a commentary," Raye returned without hesitation. "I'm just making a suggestion based on the facts. Jason doesn't like it when you come around, so: stop. coming. here."

The last words were said as if she spoke to a mentally retarded turtle, and what little patience Anne had snapped.

"Listen, you little brat," Anne spat out, "I really don't think you're in any position to tell me what-"

"You're marrying his brother." Raye said flatly, slapping down Anne's rant before it even had a chance to take off. "I don't have to be in any position to know that you're pretty cruel to keep coming back here to see him after essentially stabbing him in the back then pouring salt into the wounds."

"How dare you-"

"I can dare to do whatever and say whatever I want because it's a free country." Raye cut her off, advancing on the older woman with hands on her hips. "I can vote, pierce my left cheek, run around in my underwear, and right now, I can tell you to get the hell off my property."

Raye's smile grew into a triumphant smirk as Anne took off after a minute of sputtering about 'disrespectful children.' She crossed her arms and made sure Anne got into her chauffeured car before allowing herself to relax. This was the third time Anne had come back after her last visit to the temple. Jason had taken up avoiding his ex-fiancé instead of confronting her. For all the carefree energy that blond idiot exuded, their last 'reunion' had apparently taken a lot of emotional effort than he was willing to dish out a second time.

And that's where Raye came in.

"You don't have to keep chasing her off you know," A voice from above said. "Eventually she'll just run out of steam and take off."

"Don't get any ideas." Raye turned around and shaded her eyes. "I only chase her off because she scares away the children when she's glaring and pacing back and forth looking for you."

Jason tried not to smile too widely at her excuse and twisted the hammer in his hand from the temple's roof. Raye ignored the fact that she didn't want to punch every smile off his face nowadays and settled for addressing his latest task.

"How's it going?"

"It's going." He replied, referring to the roof Raye had asked him to fix. He nudged a few shingles at his feet and assessed the patch he was working on. "I think I've got enough to fix up this area and we'll have some leftover in case we need them."

"You mean in case you decide to drop in on one of my baths again?"

"For the tenth time," Jason said, exasperated, "I saw Anne at the temple and needed to hide."

"Hiding from a girl." Raye's lips settled into a smug smile. "What's wrong Jason? Afraid you might catch something?"

"Yup. My last cootie shot was in the fourth grade."

"Seeing as how you've still got the maturity of an eight-year-old, maybe it still works."

"You know, I was really hoping that sharing my life story with you would make you a little less-" He grasped for a word.

"Unkind?" Raye tried supplying.

"'Bitchy' was the word I was looking for." He grinned toothily at her.

"I'd apologize for dashing your hopes," Raye smirked. "But I wouldn't mean a word of it."

Jason shook his head at her. "…You're enjoying my discomfort, aren't you?"

Raye made a pinching motion with her forefinger and her thumb and sang, "Just a little."

"Remind me why I stick around despite your abuse?"

"Because going home would mean seeing your ex-fiancé cuddling into your brother." Raye said simply. Jason scoffed and looked away but she watched his neck muscles tense at the imagery. A faint pang of guilt hit her, much like it did when she allowed herself to say something too mean to one of her girlfriends. Raye cocked her head to one side, cleared her throat as her tone turned serious. "You know you can't avoid them forever."

"Watch me." Jason returned perkily.

"Hmmm." Raye mused. "I didn't expect that."

"What?"

"You being a coward."

"Ooh." Jason mock-gasped and clutched at his chest like she'd sucker-punched him. "Kinda harsh there, priestess."

"Honesty often is." She returned calmly. Raye shrugged, smirking suddenly. "Of course, I could always just find a broom or some other blunt object and chase you around demanding your death if you'd like."

"You know," Jason smile indulgently, "Four months ago that threat would've terrified me."

"And now?"

"Now," He gave her a roguish grin. "It just means it's a Wednesday."

Raye couldn't help it. She laughed, a hand reaching up to cover her mouth as she did so, one of her habits that Jason had learned while living with her. But she was still laughing and Jason let himself smile a little watching it happen. He noticed a movement out of the corner of his eyes and frowned.

"Hey." He called down to her. When she stopped laughing, he said, "Gramps said he wanted you to stop by his room earlier. I think he's drawing up plans for that boxing class he wants to have here."

She let out a scoff of disgust that only she could make look cute and rolled her eyes in aggravation.

"That perverted old horn dog…" She shook her head exasperatedly. Raye glanced up at him once more. "I'm going to find him. Do you need anything?"

"A nice show of your recently-declared freedom to run around in your underwear would be nice." Jason winked.

"…"

Jason rubbed the side of his head with his trademark goofy grin, thinking Raye was probably the only girl who could still look attractive launching projectiles at his head.

"I guess it's a special occasion!" He called out to Raye's fuming, retreating figure. "You normally don't chuck buckets at me unless it's a Sunday!"

As he watched her safely cross to the other side of the temple, away from the front steps, he stood up his full length at the top of the roof, glaring at the people beneath him like they were ants begging to be squashed…

"I don't see her, do you?

"No. But she's the only female to be running around in temple robes at this time so it can't be that hard to find her can it?"

"Is she really a priestess?"

"Who cares?"

"Well, aren't they like sworn to chastity or something?"

"…oh yeah…"

"Dude, that makes her twice as awesome!"

"And you figure this how?"

"Ignore Chad's reasons. I do, and my brain is better off for it."

Here, two of the three high school students laughed out loud, leaving the shaggy-haired one named Chad to twist his mouth in annoyance.

"Shut up man." Chad tried.

"Aw don't be a downer buddy." One of his friends said. "We just don't get what's the point of you coming up here every weekend just to try to talk to some chick that won't put out-"

"Watch out!"

Their other friend barely had time to call out that warning when literally stacks upon stacks of shingles fell from the heavens like vengeful hail from the gods. Well, one god-ish kind of person I guess…

"Oh man," Jason said heartily, leaning over the side of the roof, eyes apologetic. "Are you guys okay?"

The three teenagers looked up at him, eyes wide, not in residual startle, but in anticipatory fear. For despite the man's words that dripped in concern, and the facial expression he wore that simply exuded worry, not one of them could ignore the frosty aura that the blonde God of the Rooftop was emanating that was several dozen degrees colder than it was even in the winter air. Nor could they ignore how, despite how aloft he held his tool, it seemed like Thor's hammer in his possession, almost poised to slam down upon their heads like Whack-a-Moles.

They had made it to the top steps leading to the temple by the time Jason had leapt down from the roof. He glared at their backs menacingly and tucked his mighty weapon (aka "hammer") into its regal sheath (read: "tool belt"), dusting his gloved hands together, both of the dirt on the floor and the dirt he managed to get out of the grounds. Jason had begun to notice them a while ago, although Raye never acknowledged them. Then again, she never acknowledged any of the lovesick, ogling men that came by. She could just be oblivious or she could just flat-out not care, but there was something in the way that these guys stared at his pseudo-boss (because the only thing his supposed "boss" Old Man Hino ever really ordered him to do was have a drink with him) that just pissed off the handyman. In retrospect, he probably reacted more against those kids than he had against Anne.

…The thought made him pause.

And he would've dwelled on that somewhat-uncomfortable notion if he didn't hear clapping. Wait, clapping? Jason turned around wildly, looking for the source of the sound, until they settled on a tall man standing by the cherry blossom tree. He had salt-and-pepper hair, crinkled eyes behind glasses and an amused expression on his face as his hands continued to applaud,

"Bravo." The man said, his clapping fading. "Encore, encore!"

Jason laughed uneasily, a little confused. "Encore for what?"

"Scaring away those kids." The man gestured to the entrance of the temple where the teenagers had run away to.

Jason pretended to scoff, shifting. "No idea what you're talking about pops."

"I hope you don't plan on going into politics." The man seemed to laugh at him without actually laughing. "Because you're a horrible liar."

"Oh really?" Jason narrowed his eyes at the man. He seemed familiar, but Jason couldn't quite remember seeing him at the temple before… "How do you figure that?"

"I'm an expert of sorts in that field." The stranger murmured, glancing at the cherry blossom tree once more.

"I'm Richard." The elder man introduced himself, extending a well-manicured hand to Jason. Jason fumbled for a moment, taking off a gaudy glove and reaching out,

"I'm-"

"Jason Exuro." Richard cut him off, shaking Jason's hand firmly, smooth palms feeling out calluses. His face was impassive. "I know."

"Huh." Jason paused for a moment before retracting his hand from the shake. He eyed the man suspiciously. "Anything else you know about me?"

"Just the facts." Richard said, stepping back, hands clasped behind him. "Like you being the hired help-"

"The official title is 'handyman extraordinaire.'" Jason joked. The corners of the man's mouth twitched up into what Jason figured might have been a smile if you magnified it at 200x and tilted your head slightly to the right.

"I have to say though," Richard began, assessing Jason from head to toe. "It's kind of hard to recognize you without the designer suits and a champagne glass in your hand."

Jason stared hard at the man, his defenses on red alert. He'd worked hard at maintaining a low profile and he knew Anne hadn't spilled the beans about it because otherwise, they would've descended upon him like ravenous wolves(…okay, not wolves per se, but definitely like overly-enthusiastic dingoes). So…

"Who the hell are you?" Jason demanded evenly.

"I already told you," He said in return. "My name is Richard."

"Well then, Richard." Jason quipped cheerily, "What do you want?"

The sunlight glinted off his glasses as he faced Jason head-on with eyes that were calculating, suspicious, and a violent shade of violet that seemed reminiscent of…

Jason swallowed.

…Waaaaaait a minute.

"I want to know what the hell you're doing living with my daughter."

"Oh come on!"

"Don't 'come on' me gramps." Raye held her ground. "We are not doing boxing lessons at the temple just so you can fulfill your needs to see women in leotards bent in awkward positions!"

"…not all of them would be awkward."

Raye fought the urge to hurl her teacup at her grandfather's head.

"Oh, speaking of awkward!" Ryuu Hino shot up. "I've still got to make dinner tonight!"

Raye face-vaulted. "Seriously? I thought we were talking about the boxing lessons!"

"Hmmm." Old Man Hino mused distractedly. "Maybe we'll talk about it after dinner…"

"YOU'RE the one that wants to have it!" She pointed out, exasperated.

"Well, now I'd like to make dinner." He announced, shuffling towards the kitchen. "Set the table, will you Raye? Oh," He added, poking his head back into the room. "Don't pretend to forget Jason's seat this time."

"Remind me again why I let you bring him within three feet of me?" She grumbled even as she reached for a third dish.

"Because he takes care of the temple and the least we can do is feed him." Her grandfather recited as he did every time Raye posed the same question every other day since Ryuu had insisted that Jason join them for dinner. The man had been ecstatic and Raye had clearly been less than pleased. But she understood how lonely her grandfather must get from time to time and despite the handyman's perverted-ness (or probably because of it), Jason made good company for her grandfather…even if most of their conversations involved the proportions of a perfect woman.

She stood back, glancing at the table in front of her and seeing the plates arranged together, staring down at that third plate. It was an innocuous image, but it spoke wonders to how Jason had managed to weasel his way into their lives. She glanced at her grandfather, standing on a stepping stool that let him reach the kitchen counter and stopped the smile that crept on her face. Didn't help that Ryuu kept the figurative doggy door of their lives open to the social rodent…

Like someone up above was listening, she hear d the sliding door open and turned around, expecting Jason to walk through, floating on the scent of dinner. The smile she didn't realize was forming on her face dropped once she turned around. Apparently, the weasel had brought back a rat…

"No offense meant," Old Man Hino said lightly, "But I thought you were dead."

Richard Harrington III blinked, lips twitching. "I'm so sorry to disappoint you."

"I doubt it." Ryuu laughed, pouring more sake into Richard's cup before refueling his own.

"You should," Raye muttered loudly enough for everyone to hear at their crowded table. "He's been disappointing us for years so it's nothing new."

Jason watched the exchange go back and forth, riveted. Now, there were dysfunctional families, and then there was this; this increasingly odd, obviously hostile, yet somehow still-functioning system that, for all intents and purposes shouldn't work, but somehow did.

…Like a chicken running around with its head cut off: it was natural, horrifying…and just teensy bit funny.

Jason downed his drink; he'd gone with tea instead of sake because something that made Raye madder than she could be with him was just too good to experience tipsy. He thought he'd needed a good dose of alcohol to get through dinner earlier, when Jason recognized the JAWS theme song that blasted into his head when he realized that he was arguing with Raye's frickin-father of all people. It had taken every ounce of his self-restraint not to say more than, "Follow me," before leading Richard with strides that were a hundred times steadier than he felt.

Yet somehow, between the front steps of the temple and the in-laws' reunion, Jason had found himself sitting at one side of the square table, facing a very unamused Raye Harrington, both of them settled between the only two men in Raye's life that she ever acknowledged. Jason faintly wondered if fell into the same category.

"Now Raye," Her grandfather tried to placate her, his red face notwithstanding. "Behave."

Jason couldn't help it. "Yeah, Raye," He grinned wickedly. "Play nice."

Raye turned up the same bitchy, haughty eyebrow that she'd given Anne at Jason in a regal, How-dare-you-I'm-going-to-kill-you-in-your-sleep-tonight manner. But Jason had been assailed with just about everything in Raye's offensive arsenal, and a prolonged eyebrow twitch was nothing when you've faced Raye Harrington hunting you down with a blood-splattered broom and homicidal intent. His grin turned into a sly smirk at her anger. Ahh, there was something positively delicious about her not being able to leap across the table to strangle him.

"Speaking of playing," Richard cleared his throat, after watching the nonverbal exchange between the younger generation. "I'm surprised at you Ryuu. I figured with all your talk of tradition and family-friendliness, you'd do better than hire this one to be so close to your granddaughter."

Ryuu followed the ill-directed thumb to Jason, who had a piece of chicken halfway in his mouth and simply shrugged, "He seemed like someone I could count on."

"Yeah," Raye scoffed. "To check out teenage girls with."

"You do remember that your granddaughter is also a teenager, right?" Richard raised a masculine version of his daughter's haughty eyebrow twitch.

Ryuu thought this was funny and laughed. Raye face-palmed. And Jason wallowed in her discomfort.

"He's a politician."

"He's an ass." Raye corrected, tossing the plates into the suds and grabbing a pair of yellow gloves to cover her delicate hands.

"Interchangeable words, I'm sure." Jason mused.

"Five syllables in one word." Raye mock gasped. "You must be proud."

"And you must be desperate to change the topic if you're resorting to putting down my intelligence." Jason laughed at her.

"Just what little of it you could have."

"Not going to fall for it," He sing-songed, leaning against the stove beside her. "So what's the story?"

"No story." Raye fired back. "I don't like him. My grandpa knows it. And my father's a jerk."

"He also ran for office a few years ago didn't he?" Jason finally connected the face of the man sitting next to him at dinner with Richard Harrington's face on several posters when he was still in high school.

"Yup. And he's due to run again sometime soon." A bitter edge crept into her voice. "That's usually when we see him a lot. He likes to play up the family-man angle during election week."

"Doesn't look like it to me." Jason insisted when he didn't like the look on her face. He'd seen Raye angry and enraged and occasionally, he might get lucky enough to see her smile even if she hadn't incurred bodily harm against him. Her current expression, however, was a mix of pent-up anger and a lot of irritation. So he had to rationalize, "He just looks like a nice guy stopping by to have dinner with his family."

Raye rolled her eyes. "You've had dinner with us more times since you've moved in here than he has in the last six years put together."

"Wow." Jason whistled.

"Shouldn't be that shocking." Raye said drily. "This is your first time ever seeing him around since you started working here."

"I take it he doesn't come around often." Jason finally said after he noticed the way Raye's lips pursed to one side.

"Like I said," She handed him a washed dish, saying resentfully, "We're only important to him during election week."

Jason couldn't help it. He threw back his head and laughed. She stared at him like he was crazy.

"What's so funny?"

"You!" Jason said between chuckles. "You have daddy issues!"

He got a mouthful of soapy water for that one and kept laughing anyway.

"Well, they're lively." Richard glanced at the room just beyond his vision, where he knew his daughter was with Jason, ironically helping the hired help wash the dishes because she'd rather be there than in the same room as her father.

"Don't make such a face." Ryuu said, recognizing the look of a regretful man from his own reflection in the mirror many times. "Voters don't like depressed candidates."

"It's not like anyone can see me."

"True." Ryuu acquiesced. "And why is that, by the way? Normally when you want to have dinner with us, it involves a five-star restaurant and a lot of coincidental run-ins with reporters and cameramen."

Richard chuckled a little, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out an envelope and sliding it towards his father-in-law, "I got this in the mail two days ago."

Ryuu opened the envelope and found himself smiling as he murmured,

"I wondered where these went."

"You've seen these photos?" Richard was surprised.

"Of course." Ryuu said happily. "I took them after all." His eyes crinkled as he looked down at the pieces he knew had (not-so-) mysteriously disappeared from his Raye-and-Jason-Love-Collection.

Richard didn't seem anymore pleased by this.

"Ryuu," He said seriously. "Do you know who that man is?"

"What are you talking about?" Ryuu asked innocently.

Richard shook his head, exasperated. "Cut the bullshit. I know you wouldn't let any man come within ten feet of Raye, let alone in your home, unless you knew them or trusted them." He sat back, seemingly lost in his own thoughts, "I know you didn't let me in for a while."

"That's because you kept breaking the hearts of the girls who are born in this house." Ryuu said simply, only mildly annoyed. Years of patience, meditation, reflection, and raising a beautiful granddaughter in place of a sad father who hadn't stopped grieving had tamed the immense resentment and hatred he'd had against his son-in-law. Maybe one day soon, Raye would know this feeling too. Until then…

"He's worse than me." Richard insisted. "His background, his family, what he used to do before he came here-"

"Doesn't matter." Ryuu interrupted calmly.

"But-!"

"You asked me if I knew who that man is." Ryuu said, placating. "I know this much: his name is Jason. I know he's a good man and a hard worker. I know he's very resilient both in mind and body. You'd have to be, with Raye's constant threats and physical punishments." He chuckled lightly, flipping though the pictures of his granddaughter and employee with a fond smile. "I know what I need to know about that man."

"Then you know that he's bound to disappoint Raye if you let her get attached to him." Richard almost accused.

"Raye doesn't get attached." Ryuu snorted into his cup. "She learns to tolerate."

"Ryuu-" Richard grounded.

"I once tried stopping a hard-headed girl from staying with a man she would've died to make happy," Ryuu mused as his mind searched for that familiar smile that called him 'Papa' once upon a time. "It didn't work out the way any of us wanted to.

"Let's let this work out the way it's supposed to," Ryuu suggested when he saw Richard staring at the gold band over his left ring finger for too long. "If you've done your research and watched over this man like the over-possessive stalker I know you to be, I'm sure you know what I know too." He smiled sadly. "He's what Raye needs now. And she's going to need him a lot more very soon…"

"For a guy who's taken to hiding from the woman he was going to marry, you're awfully gung-ho on the reach-out-to-whoever-messed-you-up routine."

"That's only because the person reaching out to me is doing it with the hand that has my brother's engagement ring on it." Jason returned, not missing a spot on the dish Raye passed to him to dry.

"So it's ok to suck it up when romantic relationships go to shit," She scrubbed too hard on another plate. "But just because he comprises half of my DNA, I should make the effort that he should've had done years ago?"

"He's making an effort now." Jason tried to reason, reaching over and wrenching the abused dish from her claw-like, yellow-gloved hands.

"Well so is Anne." Raye struggled with the name that tasted like month-old mold in her mouth.

"You don't even like Anne." Jason laughed at the face she made.

"I don't like a lot of people." Raye pointed out. "And somehow, two of those people are currently under my roof as we speak."

"Just because you let people who drive you nuts into your home doesn't mean that I have to do the same."

The words, 'This isn't even your home!' teetered on the edge of Raye's lips until she glanced outside the window above the sink, and caught sight of the laundry line in the back. Against the slow burn of a setting sun, her crisp white bed sheets hung beside Jason's navy blue ones, his jeans and shirts strung in between her school uniforms and Ryuu's shrine robes to dry. Looking down at the sink, she counted the three dishes set on the drying rack, a fourth one in her hands.

'Hmm. When did that happen?'

"Why not?" She challenged aloud, taking off her gloves. "I don't see why I should try to recover from the emotional trauma my father dealt to me while you get to sit pretty and hiding in your mental turtle shell."

"So what?" Jason scoffed, lining the final dish on the rack and drying his hands.

"So do as you say." Raye shot back. "Go play nice with your ex-almost-wife and maybe I'll consider tolerating my father's presence."

Jason laughed. "So what? You'll be my cheerleader?"

"Or something like a teammate going through the same crap with you." Raye suggested instead.

"I'll do it if you'll be my cheerleader." Jason insisted.

"Fine." Raye rolled her eyes, laughing sardonically. "And if you pull it off, I'll even wave some pompoms and spell your name."

She threw the dishrag at him when he fist pumped and walked out of the room before he could see her smile.

chickay: Wouldn't it be really nice if you knew exactly when I'd update? Well, I'd like that too, but my brain just doesn't understand the concept of regular updates. This is one of my longer chapters and I can't say that I'm completely pleased with it. I love R+J so much (Raye in general was my favorite character) but I've been having a bit of a doozy developing their love story within the time constraints of the story so~…it's a problem. This chapter has been in the making since my last update, but working to get it right was a real issue for me. :/

Things seem to be winding down for our characters but, don't worry, I've got a twist or two coming up before that final June month so please do stick around and review review review!

Ooh. And because it was such a huge thing for me, I would like to say a supersized "YayThankyou!" to Tamer's Light, who's greatest achievement was being the first person to PM me…6 months ago. Haha. So, thank you Tamer's Light, and thank you to everyone else who's continued to support me over the years. Your dedication to my short-attention span and long-spaced updates has kept me going and will keep me going.

Please and Thank you!