Sorry, I haven't updated in so long. I feel I owe you guys an explanation. You see, last year and most of this year my time hasn't been occupied by much other than homework, but just this past month or so I've suddenly grow very busy with clubs, sports conditioning, and the school musical. I really hope my schedule lightens up soon, but until then my schedule is going to be awfully hectic.

Q-nagisa, thanks again for your editing assistance, and, yeah, I made some more revisions since.

Dearest latest Guest Reviewer: Thank you for your criticisms. I'll use them to the best of my ability to better this story.

As always, I hope every one is doing well, but if you're not, well, I hope things get better for you. For those coping with winter's worst, I feel you. Whiteouts and negative temperatures make the living worthwhile, no? Those who are sick, ugh. It sucks. Myself, I've been coughing up phlegm for almost three weeks now, which is made especially fun as I'm in choir.

Read and enjoy, and review if you'd be so kind. Hopefully, I'll update sooner, but we'll have to see and I won't make promises I can't keep. Though, I can promise that I will continue and sometime conclude this. That said, if you're ever wondering where I'm at, I do try to keep a status of how far along the next chapter is on my Profile.

Always, JU.

It wasn't waking up to an empty bed in the early afternoon light that had Sadie Kane, bluntly put, pissed. Granted, she had already figured Anubis would be up before her; however, she couldn't help how she felt. When her eyes finally figured they were up to greeting the new day, it hurt some to find that the blankets and sheets were thrown back, mangled and Anubis absent from his place beside her where he'd fallen asleep the night before.

Like most mornings, she wearily tried to ensconce herself further under the comfort of the covers. Sighing in blissful content, she thought over how she would have to ask that auburn where she bought her bedding. This fabric was so soft and, despite however cliché the comparison was, the mattress could definitely be a cloud, yet, no matter how hard Sadie clenched her eyes tight, she just couldn't get back to sleep. Tossing and turning, she ran through her head possible answers for what the problem might be, suddenly realizing how very quiet it was. Now, sure, she could hear the faint sound of a car alarm going off somewhere down below. Even within the apartment building there came, from a floor or two below, the distinct bars of Bruno Mars's "When I Was Your Man" streaming from a stereo and the from upstairs the chipper tone of a newscasters was seeping through ceiling in his usual format.

Maybe the world hadn't got the memo to shut up so Sadie could properly get back to sleeping in, but Marisol's apartment certainly had. It was absolutely mute, and considering its inhabitants were a 5,000 year old funeral god (a.k.a. probably the worst noise maker to ever step foot in a kitchen) and a five year-old, that was more than a little odd. Now, there are some truly splendid children in the world; Sadie had no doubt there were, but what child is absolutely not-making-any-sound quiet in the early afternoon? It was unlikely Roselle was taking a nap.

After ten minutes of unnerving silence Sadie Kane figured she ought to investigate. Her findings? No Anubis, no Roselle, and no note. He must have either placed the note in a place she hadn't thought of checking in the space she'd already turned inside out looking or, and this was unlikely, Anubis had not left one behind. Which, of the latter, Sadie knew wasn't possibly the case. No, it was somewhere; she'd just skimmed over it. When Anubis returned he would present the note to her and they could laugh about how Sadie had been unable to find it in its very, ridiculously so, obvious placement.

Yet the question of where he and Roselle had gone off to bugged her, along with the question of why hadn't he at least bothered telling her. As she showered, she pondered whether he had, in fact, made mention of his leaving. Maybe he'd told her, but she had been half-asleep, or possibly he'd brought it up in a conversation a couple of days ago and she'd simply forgotten it. It had to have been one of those, for there hadn't been a note or so she had dismally concluded (there was no other place she could think of that required searching).

As she threw on a T-shirt and sweats settled down on the couch to watch reruns of Game of Thrones, she relived every conversation they had in recent memory, often reaching for fragments that were just beyond her grasping. Every time she heard steps in the hall, she caught herself absentmindedly watching the doorknob, waiting for it to open and her fiance to enter. When the knob didn't turn, when he didn't return, her eyes wandered over to the great behemoth that was Marisol's grandfather clock. It was getting late, and one would think he would have returned by now. And Carter and Zia were coming over.

But Anubis didn't return, at least, not in time. For when seven rolled around, Sadie was dressed in a nice black dress that nicely coordinated with her engagement ring; the ring she kept twisting around her finger. How she wanted to be angry at him, but she knew how well she couldn't be. Instead, she felt confused. It wasn't fair that he was able to make her feel this way.

As she drained the pasta she heard the buzzer go off, signifying her older brother and his wife were here while Anubis irredeemably was not. The first question to come from her brother's mouth a few minutes later once she opened the door was inquisitive, "Where's Anubis?"

Her attempt at nonchalance found her saying, "Death Boy's just running some errands. He's running late, so he doesn't know if he'll be back before dinner's done."

Carter nodded, but the suspicion lingering in his eyes revealed he wasn't about to let his future brother-in-law off on such a vague excuse. "What errands specifically?"

She began to formulate a response, but gratefully was interrupted by Zia's voice from the living room.

"Carter, come here," she abrasively ordered. When they reached her side she was pale and distant as if she had met with a ghost...or a lookalike more specifically, as she herself would explain. "It's the twin," she murmured. The shock of finding it didn't resonate with Sadie as it did with Carter, who mirrored Zia's open mouth and gaze that would not shift away from the timepiece.

Sadie wasn't looking at the clock, rather, she was looking at them. "Twin? Um...why are we looking at Marisol's clock?"

"Because," Carter answered, "there was a clock just like this one in Asya's childhood home," he pointed to the clock as if specification had been required. "Our guide said they were custom pair, and one had been sold at auction. Though, she said it ended up in France."

"I see, well…" Sadie stared at the clock in perplexment. She didn't know what to think. Marisol surely didn't know of this, probably had gathered it was a lovely antique and bought it. It was impossible for Sadie's mind to think about the other option as it wouldn't be Marisol-like.

"We should open it," Carter commented.

"Open it?" Sadie repeated.

"There was a compartment behind the face of the other, so that's likely the case with this one," Zia explained.

Sadie nodded, asking, "Okay, so how do we open it?"

"With a key."

"No magic?"

"Well, we never tried, but I don't think it would work," Carter pondered while Zia jostled through the contents of her bag, which she'd just pulled from the Duat. Finding the golden key, she handed it to Sadie to hand to Carter once he'd moved the hands of the clock to three and nine. "Key?" Sadie pressed it into his palm. All three stared, transfixed as they heard a click but when the face swung open there was no compartment, only the internal workings of a clock. Carter touched his hand against the golden gears. "But…"

"There should've been…"

At that moment the apartment door opened, but not to a fashionably late Anubis; instead, Marisol had arrived home early.

"Get away from that clock," Marisol barked. When they didn't, they were rather startled to be seeing her, she angrily added an irrefutable, "Now!" Needless to say, they hastily backed away from the clock.

Marisol left her suitcases abandoned by the slammed shut door, before closing the clock face and stowing the key safely in her back pocket.

"Marisol, it's just a clock," Sadie began, silenced by Marisol's piercing glare.

"Just a clock," Marisol repeated in perturbed awe. "Just a clock? My Aunt Clare left it to my dad in her will." Her voice was swallowed up in a stutter of sobs.

"Your Aunt Clare? She was the one who lived in France, right?" Sadie guessed, only to make the situation worse and or more awkward for the Kanes. She could only guess how they looked in the blue eyes of her friend. They, the horrible souls that were messing around with the clock that had once belonged to the very, Marisol was sobbing horrendously, beloved Aunt Clare.

"No, don't you ever listen to what I say? Aunt Clare was my dad's favorite sister; she died of cancer when I was nine." So, the Kanes could only stand their guiltily staring down at their feet with their heads bowed in shame. Wiping her frenzied tears away, a red-faced Marisol added, "And she lived in Finland."

Sadie reached to touch her friend's shoulder, but Marisol jumped at her touch; therefore, Sadie's arm receded back to its previous resting place beside her waist. "I'm sorry," she apologized.

Marisol sniffled, nodding in acknowledgment of the apology. Hoarsely, she stated, "I'd like it if all of you left." When there was silence, she added a timid, "Please."

"Even me?" Sadie remarked. Marisol meekly nodded, leaving her friend flabbergasted.

"I guess I'll go gather my things then," Sadie voiced, a tinge of insult creeping into her tone.

"Or you could come back tomorrow," Marisol suggested, those blue eyes still studying the intricate grain of the floorboards.

"Or I could come back tomorrow," Sadie agreed, submitting to the guidance of her brother's firm hold on her shoulder. As the three of them filed into the elevator, Sadie commented, "Marisol was acting awfully funny tonight."

"Well, we were messing with her clock," Carter commented as he pressed the button for the main floor.

"I wonder what's wrong with her," Sadie murmured.

Back in the apartment, Marisol held the key in her hand. The stupid trinket wouldn't have yielded anything in this clock, though her chest still felt so tight as if she couldn't breath; even if Sadie had gone through the apartment there was nothing here to betray her secrets…except the clock, but its compartment was inaccessible using the key. No, the small item wouldn't reveal such a thing. To open that compartment something more was required: blood, specifically her blood. Then again, she had taken a risk, for, no doubt, Roselle's blood would've worked just as well. A sudden panic seized her; where was Roselle?

Hours later she lay in her bed, wide awake. Where was Roselle? Anubis? Images of the worst tormented her, configuring the shadows cast upon her wall into the ghosts of past horrors. She saw the blue eyes staring back in hers, so innocent in their ignorance and both being so set in their way, was it a wonder—

Marisol jolted up as the apartment door opened, then shut. Every footstep stepped on route to her bedroom seemed to shake the earth or, at least, the building. Her door opened and Anubis's eyes met hers; his startled expression relayed to her that he was neither glad nor disappointed to be seeing her, but, of course, the first question that came from his mouth was not an inquiry of her well being, rather, "Where's Sadie?"

"She went home. With Carter," Marisol provided. "Where's Roselle?"

"With my grandmother."

"I see." She could breath again. Nut was nice. A friend even, unlike Shu. Stuck in his stubborn way, Shu.

"She's a lovely person. Roselle's in good hands, trust me."

"You don't need to ask me. Roselle is your daughter, and I already trust you," she assured him. Anubis sat beside her, the bed subsequently groaning as his weight was added.

"Why?" he asked incredulously. Marisol shrugged, a small smiled tugging at her lips. He really wanted to kiss her, but he held himself back. Instead he resolved himself to the business at hand. "We need to talk."

Marisol nodded. "I got your messages. Sorry, I didn't call. I was unable to, you see? I left my phone in the frontseat of my ride's truck."

"It's alright. Your uncle's well?"

The smile she gave him was forced, like her tone. "A miraculous recovery." He didn't push the topic, instead, allowing the conversation to get where it was headed.

"So you told her."

"Attempted to."

"Attempted to," Marisol dismally repeated. Anubis's hand placed itself atop hers. "What are you going to do now?"

"I want to break up with her."

Marisol sighed and shook her head. "But," she pressed, knowing him so very well.

"I don't think I can."

She frowned and removed her hand from his, snuggling back under her covers. "I don't want to talk."

He nodded. "Then I'll leave," yet as he made to do so, Marisol's hand reached for his.

"Please don't?" The wall he had built between them was demolished with the vulnerability in her voice, yet his conviction that him and Sadie must go their separate ways was only furthered by his returned to his lover's bed.

With Marisol's head resting on the pillow beside his own head, Anubis inquired, "Are you still awake?"

There was no response; perhaps, that was what gave him courage enough to make his confession. "Marisol, I'm a god."

She didn't reply, so he closed his eyes and allowed him to slip into the dreamy haze of sleep's seductive clutches.

He woke early the next morning to the other side of the bed empty and the red numbers of the alarm clock mocking him. Upon stumbling through the apartment he finally found her in her study, quietly but seriously speaking on the phone. She bid the person on the other end good day and set the phone back in its place. Absentmindedly, Marisol rubbed her eyes. She'd obviously been up for some time.

"Who was that?" Anubis inquired, leaning against the doorframe.

"Nobody."

His brow wrinkled at her blatant lie. As she strode by him she remarked casually, "By the way, your father dropped Roselle off."

Anubis nearly choked. "My father!" Marisol glanced at him in concern, before nodding.

"Yes, your father," she repeated. She was holding his hand now, fingers wrapping around his own. "Don't worry, he behaved himself."

"Did he?" Anubis murmured in disbelief. Behaving and Set were opposites of the spectrum. To be behave meant to conform to order's laws and rituals, something Set would gladly tell anyone he simply wasn't into… "Marisol, was he weird at all? If something was off, I can explain."

"Anubis, you don't need to explain. I already know." She knew. She knew? So...

"You heard me last night," he stated, perplexed by how calm she was. How unafraid and unimpressed she was by this. He almost hurt that she wasn't a bit more in awe of the fact, but then again, Marisol wasn't that type.

"Yeah, I did." Why was she smiling? Did she think he was joking like Sadie had? Oh Ra, he really did need to work on his humor by mastering the arts of sarcasm and knock-knock.

"But you didn't reply." She laughed and shook her head. He had made a joke?

With a casual shrug, she told him the truth of how she saw his godliness. "It wasn't something that needed talking over. You're a god, and I'm a rogue."