Saturday, February 12, 2011

"Amy seemed in a good mood last night," Taylor's father noted as he sat down at the table, spreading several pieces of paper across the surface. Taylor, who was already there waiting for him, nodded, grinning.

"She had a lot of fun yesterday. Thanks for giving her a ride home."

"It's no problem. I like the girl aside from anything else. And the Dallons don't live all that far away. What were you two up to in there for so long? You were both grinning like idiots when you came out."

"It's a surprise," she smirked, pleased with their results. It was a good start although there were some problems they were trying to work out a solution to, both of them researching various things that might help.

"Oh, God. Why does that fill me with foreboding?" he joked.

"Good sense, maybe?" she asked, raising an eyebrow a little.

"That doesn't actually help, Taylor," he sighed with a fond smile. "Between you the pair of you are going to drive the entire city nuts, I can feel it."

"Hey, you're at least as bad," she giggled. "All that preparation for the Mayor to make it look as impressive as possible, for instance. This entire family has always liked a good joke and Amy definitely has the same instincts. Now she's suddenly found she can let that part out and is having a hell of a lot of fun. So am I. And some of the ideas she's had… You're going to be amazed, in a good way."

"Hopefully the PRT won't get involved," he commented, unrolling a large-scale map of the warehouses that needed to be demolished. She reached out and put a series of weights on the corners, the Varga matter creation ability now so familiar to them both that neither thought anything of it. "Thanks."

"We have some ideas about that, but we need to check some of the rules first. But it's a ways off yet. So, what do you want me to do today?"

She leaned over the table to see the map, which covered most of the surface of it, properly.

Pulling a pen out of his pocket he used it to indicate several structures. "These six warehouses all need to come down." A line of the huge old buildings stretched for more than a quarter of a mile along the shoreline, from a position starting just outside the currently fenced-in DWU yard, separated by access roads. She could see that when they were gone, it would give an area close to fifteen hundred by six hundred feet as a single vast empty space, right on the edge of the bay. "They're completely derelict, old storage warehouses that were used for bulk goods way back in the day. No one has used them for anything much in forty years and they were already falling apart then. This one is a steel-framed building, put up around the end of WW2, it was only in use for eight or nine years and was never intended to last this long anyway."

"That's the one your men are already taking apart?" she asked, remembering all the people wielding cutting torches who had been swarming over the half-dismantled structure which had been missing most of its walls for as long as she could remember.

"Yes. That part is fairly simple, it's more or less only a skeleton with a roof and one end wall still intact. These other five are older, dating back to the late nineteenth or early twentieth century and mostly brick and stone, with some concrete in places from later refurbishment. Cast iron roof supports, several different types of roof material from wood to stone slabs with some iron sheets as well. The one in the middle is falling to pieces, the roof caved in ten or eleven years ago as I recall. They pulled several bodies out of it when it was searched afterwards, homeless people who had been sleeping in it, the poor bastards. The others aren't quite as bad but they're only shells now. Floors missing, internal walls gone, that sort of thing. The damp salty air from the bay didn't do them any favors."

"OK."

"At this end, this one here has a large basement, which is at least partly flooded. I have no idea why it was built like that, especially so close to the bay, the construction records for a lot of this sort of thing are long lost. We need to fill the basement in, which we think is most easily done using the remains of the warehouse itself then paving over the top." He looked over his reading glasses at her. She nodded thoughtfully.

"That makes sense. I guess I can probably make it collapse inwards if I knock out all the internal supports then take out the walls. I was watching how they do this sort of thing with explosives on Youtube, I got some neat ideas from the videos."

He smiled at her. "Good, that sounds reasonable. You know, you're saving us a hell of a lot of time, money, and possible danger doing this. Thank you for wanting to help."

Smiling, she shrugged. "I have all these abilities which are downright terrifying in many ways. I'd much rather use them to create something than destroy it." With a small laugh, she added, "Although sometimes wrecking something is good fun."

"That I can believe. I'm looking forward to seeing you in action."

"It should be impressive, if nothing else."

With a nod he pulled out some more paperwork, which proved to be detailed surveys of the buildings themselves. "These show all the load-bearing walls and columns. Those are the ones you need to take out. A couple of the guys at the Yard know a lot about demolition and I'd like you to discuss it with them before you dive in to make sure you know the best way to proceed, but after that you can do what you want. We'll sweep each building thoroughly first to make sure no one is in there."

"I can help with that," she told him, tapping her nose. "No one is going to hide from this."

"Great. I don't want to squash a junkie. That wouldn't go down well in any way at all." Her father smiled slightly. "Leaving aside the fact I don't want anyone hurt. We'll all have radios and anyone can call in a stop for any reason. If you hear the call, stop immediately, until whatever the problem is has been sorted out."

Taylor nodded, understanding the importance of that. She pored over the plans for a while, discussing the best way to proceed with the Varga. Her father got up and made himself some coffee, then returned to the table, handing her a glass of apple juice as he did so, which she took with a murmured thanks. Eventually she looked up.

"We both think we've worked out the best way to do it. When do you want to start?"

Checking the clock on the wall, he replied, "It's half past seven now. Let's say we want to be in the Yard at around a quarter past eight, then start at around nine. I doubt we'll be ready to actually begin the demolition until around ten, since we need to search the buildings immediately beforehand."

"OK. Armsmaster is due at four, which gives us plenty of time."

"Don't rush it, we need to do this right and make sure everyone is safe and happy with the results," he advised, sipping his coffee.

"OK, Dad. I'll take it slowly and carefully as I smash five warehouses into tiny pieces more or less bare-handed," she grinned. He rolled his eyes with a grin of his own, chuckling a little.

"I'm sure you will."

He rolled the map and the other plans up and put an elastic band around the collection, moving it to one side. "How did you get on with your new premises?"

"Very well," she smiled. "Varga and I lined it with something stronger, I doubt anyone could get in there now even with explosives. Not even tunneling in. We made some rooms inside for Amy's projects, she needs a secure place to keep her work private. That reminds me, can I get another set of these keys for her?" She waved the key ring at him having pulled it from her pocket.

After a moment, he nodded, looking slightly surprised. "You're moving fast but yes, of course. They're special high security keys that you can't just copy, they have to be supplied by the locksmith company, but I can order a spare set. They should be ready on Monday afternoon, the company is a local one."

"Thanks," she replied happily. "We also need to get some lights and power outlets put into the rooms. And maybe a phone, the Vargastuff lining seems to have practically killed cell reception. I can make the wires if I get a piece to study, I think, it's only copper and plastic, right?"

"Don't bother, we have literally tens if not hundreds of miles of cable in stock, along with a hell of a lot of lighting fixtures, switches, outlets, everything you'll ever need," he laughed. "You don't have to do everything the hard way. I'll get one of the electricians to come over later and you can tell him what you want done, it won't take long to wire things up. They're very experienced at their jobs. A landline is already on order as well, it should be installed on Wednesday along with the internet connection."

"Great, that will help a lot. I'll make the holes when I know what he needs."

"Make sure that if you have anything in there you don't want anyone seeing you cover it up," he advised. "Our people are discreet but there's no sense taking chances."

"Everything's carefully covered, we thought of that," she smiled. "When it's done you'll be the first to see it."

"Now I'm scared," he replied with a mock shudder. "Who knows what you two could come up with giving a running start and no adult supervision?"

Taylor gave him the most evil grin she could manage, complete with a much too wide mouthful of sharp teeth. His shudder became slightly more real.

"Please don't do that so early in the morning, dear, it's a little more worrying than you probably realize," he sighed with a good-natured look of exasperation. She shrugged, making the teeth go away, her smile becoming more normal.

"Sorry," she laughed.

"I never thought when I met your mother that I'd end up raising a demon-daughter single handed," he said after a moment, gesturing wildly with his empty coffee cup. "All by myself, with only quick wits and good luck standing between us and disaster. Woe is me. Poor Heberts."

Grinning at him she shook her head with exasperation of her own. "Now you're just milking it," she commented.

"One extracts what fun one can from the situation," he told her, smiling, then getting up to rinse out the cup. "I'll be leaving in a few minutes. Meet you there?"

"Sure," she told him as she also rose.

A short while later both of them were making their separate ways to the DWU facility.

"What is this, Amy?" Carol said as she entered the living room, her voice stiff with disapproval. Amy and Vicky, who were sitting on the sofa discussing a school assignment, looked at her, then each other. Amy felt her heart fall. It was inevitable but she'd hoped her adoptive mother wouldn't make a scene. Unfortunately it didn't look like she was going to be sensible about things.

Turning back to the elder woman who was holding her second costume's helmet in her hand, waving it at her, she replied mildly, even though she wanted to shout, "It's a helmet."

"I know that, young lady. I want to know where you got it and why?"

"It was a present from a friend along with the rest of the costume, which I last saw in a bag. On the floor of my closet. In my room. My private room." She emphasized each short sentence, seeing her sister beside her wince a little out of the corner of her eye. "A place I thought I was old enough to reasonably expect not to have searched by my mother."

"Don't take that tone of voice with me, Amy. I am perfectly at liberty to search my own house for things that are hidden in it."

"Really." Her voice was flat. "May I point out that it wasn't 'hidden' in my closet, it was 'stored' in my closet. Like my other clothes. And my shoes for that matter. Are you going to accuse me of smuggling shirts into the house next?"

Carol glared while Vicky sighed so faintly that Amy was probably the only one who heard, trying not to look at either her mother or sister and appearing embarrassed.

"Who gave it to you? Where did they get it? Why are you running around wearing this rather than your proper costume?" Carol didn't seem in a good mood.

Amy was beginning to feel very similarly. "Raptaur gave it to me, because it's better for the riding she's let me do than my robes. She made it. Because it's fun and I'd nearly forgotten what fun was over the last two years or so. Is that OK, or do I need to ask permission to do anything that I actually enjoy?"

Her voice was becoming very sarcastic, something she was extremely good at from long practice, although she didn't normally aim it at Carol who didn't have much of a sense of humor for that sort of thing, especially from her.

Vicky winced again, although she was also hiding a very tiny smile of respect and amusement.

Carol went a somewhat unpleasant shade of red. Slamming the helmet down on the side table that also held a vase of flowers, making it rock perilously, she snapped, "I am becoming extremely concerned about your recent behavior. You've always been a sullen girl, but at least you did the right thing and were responsible with your powers like a member of this family should be. But you've given up half your volunteer work for no good reason that I can see, you're running around all over the city in the company of one or other of a pair of capes I'm still not sure about, and now you've changed your costume without asking the family about it. Or even mentioning it. I only found out by seeing the videos and images on the internet. What sort of impression do you think this gives about New Wave?"

Taking several deep breaths so she wouldn't say something everyone regretted, and poking her symbiote with her powers to make it release some calming hormones into her bloodstream, Amy managed to keep her temper.

"I didn't mention it because on the one hand I don't really see that it's anything to do with the family or New Wave, since I'm not doing anything officially, and on the other I knew exactly this would happen. I guess I was an idiot for thinking that you might deal with it calmly. Thanks for showing me my mistake, it's one I won't make again."

"What do you mean by that, young lady?" Carol demanded. Amy smiled serenely at her, wondering if she'd slightly overdone the endorphins. She was suddenly feeling very calm and relaxed, almost amused.

"Just what I said. You have been suspicious of me for years. Probably because my father was a villain." Carol suddenly paled. "Oh, yes, I worked that out a long time ago. Vicky did as well. I don't know who he was and I don't really care, neither does she. She's my sister and we love each other, no matter who our fathers were. You're not nearly as discreet as you think you are when you're complaining to Aunt Sarah about having to take me in." The older Dallon woman's face became even paler. "But I'm not a villain any more than you are, no matter who my father was. It's not in the genetics, you know. I sure do, believe me. Nature versus nurture, the old argument. I don't know if I'm a hero, but I do know I'm not a villain."

"Of course you're a hero, you're a Dallon," Carol said weakly.

"Really? You could have fooled me considering some of the things I've heard over the years," Amy grumbled. The calming hit from the brain chemistry tweak was wearing off as fast as it had come on and she was getting annoyed again. Briefly debating whether to try again she decided not to. "That's probably the first time you've ever called me that."

Carol looked stricken, glancing at her biological daughter, who was now staring at her with a certain amount of anger of her own. Vicky put her hand on Amy's shoulder. "She's right, Mom, we've both heard it. You've said some horrible things about Amy over the years."

"Eavesdroppers seldom hear things they like," the older woman grated, looking conflicted.

"Apparently not." Amy shrugged. "I don't really care any more." This wasn't entirely true but she wasn't going to admit to it, although the way her sister squeezed her shoulder made it clear Vicky knew the truth of it.

"I don't want you to see either Raptaur or Saurial again," Carol said after a pause, her nostrils flaring.

Amy studied her for a moment. "I dare you to tell them that," she smiled nastily, watching as the woman went very pale again. "Why not?"

"They're obviously a bad influence on you," Carol muttered angrily, still looking worried. "We don't know enough about either of them. What do they want?"

Sighing, Amy shook her head, standing up and walking over to the woman, looking up at her a little since she was somewhat taller. "They just want to live their lives and help out around the place. Like you seem to want me to do. They don't ask for payment, again like me. Which is odd, it's been pointed out to me recently that there's all sorts of ways to make money with my powers. I'm sort of confused why you never considered that."

"You can't demand money to heal people, Amy," Carol snapped.

"Why not? Doctors do. You don't think that all those people at the hospital are there for free? Even the ones I heal pay something to the place, I'm sure. I've never asked but I'd be surprised if it didn't happen. Why should I be the only one who doesn't get something from it other than stress and boredom? The patient gets to live, the hospital gets to make money, me… I get to end up hating my life." She shrugged while Carol looked flabbergasted and Vicky sighed sadly.

"For the first time in years I'm having fun, doing things that I want to do rather than things that other people expect me to do, and I'm going to keep doing it. Sorry, Mom, but that's the way it is."

"I can forbid you to, girl," Carol growled, leaning forward.

"Try it," Amy replied evenly. "In under six months I'll be eighteen and at that point I'm free to do anything I want without anyone's permission. I don't want this argument, despite everything I'm genuinely grateful for you taking me in and looking after me all these years, even if you did it under protest. But I'm not your property. Or New Wave's. Push too hard and I'll just walk out, now or later. There's no need for that, though, is there?"

She stepped back, smirking a little. "After all, just think of how it would look to the public. New Wave having internal arguments? The world's premier parahuman healer leaving them and setting off on her own? Maybe even joining the Protectorate? Not exactly a PR coup."

Her mother glared at her, breathing heavily in anger, but said nothing for several long seconds. Behind her she could practically feel Vicky staring at them.

"This isn't over, Amy," Carol snapped, turning on her heel and stomping off.

She took a deep breath, sagging a little. "I hope to god it is, Mom," she whispered. She felt a pair of arms go around her and she leaned back into her taller sister's embrace, abruptly too emotionally worn out to even relish her forbidden feelings in having the other girl so close. "Sorry, Vicky. I don't know why that blew up so quickly like that. But I'm not going to give up my life just at the point I've suddenly rediscovered it."

"Of course you aren't, Sis." Vicky's voice was soft. "You deserve to be happy as much as anyone. I'm really pleased that you're having fun after seeing you slowly withdrawing from us all for years. Mom is just… Mom." She laughed sadly. "You know what I mean."

"All too well," she sighed. "All too well."

"Meeting Taylor, and Saurial, and even Raptaur, that's a good thing for you. You're making lots of friends at school now as well and you're happier than I've seen you for much too long. Don't let it get you down. She just doesn't handle change very well, especially when it's you in the middle of it."

Releasing her, her sister moved around to stand in front of her. "I'm not the best person to do this, Sis, you know that. I'll talk to Mom if you want but she's still sort of mad at me for what I said to Saurial the first time we met. We should talk to Aunt Sarah and see if she'll help sort all this out."

"OK," Amy nodded with a small smile. "That's a good idea. Mom might listen to her. Maybe."

Picking her helmet off the table, her sister handed it to her. "Put the suit on and let's go and see her. Then we can go and find a huge scaly monster and see if she wants to get a burger. Or an egg." Vicky grinned, while Amy laughed. The thought that all three of the friends that her sister had mentioned were the same person made it all the funnier. She wondered how the blonde would take it when she finally found out.

Going up to her room, Vicky following, she found the bag had been pulled out of the closet and opened, showing signs of being rummaged through. She was momentarily glad her baton was in her pocket. God knows what Carol would have made of that, considering a mere costume was enough to start the rant they'd just had. While her sister closed the door she put the bag on the bed and pulled the suit out, then the boots and gloves, quickly dressing in it with much less trouble than it had caused the first time. When she was finished she retrieved the baton and slipped it into the belt pouch.

"What's that?" Vicky asked curiously.

"My self-defense weapon," Amy told her, pulling it out again and showing it to her. With a quick flick of her wrist she extended it, the thing locking open with a click. Vicky stared with wide eyes.

"Holy shit. That's cool. Do you know how to use it?"

"Not properly, not yet. I'm going to be taking lessons." Her sister motioned for the baton, so she gave it to her, the girl inspecting it closely, briefly attempting to bend it with absolutely no success, then handing it back, an impressed look on her face.

Pressing the button and closing it up again Amy put it back into its pouch. "That's really neat," Vicky said, watching with a smile.

"I think so," she replied, smiling back. She picked up her helmet and put it on, fastening the strap that held it in place. "Come on, let's go out your window. I don't really want to see Carol again right now and I guarantee she doesn't want to see me."

With a somewhat sad nod her sister agreed, both of them crossing the hall to her room, which had a set of patio doors that opened out into thin air, installed after the blonde girl had Triggered as a flier. Quickly changing into her Glory Girl costume, she opened the doors, picked up her sister, then floated out, nudging them shut with her foot when they were outside. Shortly they were heading to the Pelham residence in silence, both busy with their own thoughts about the recent contretemps.

Sarah opened the door and smiled at her two nieces, the biological one and the adopted one, both of whom she liked very much. "Hi, you two. Come on in. What brings you over? I'm afraid both Eric and Crystal are out at the moment. And what on earth are you wearing, Amy?"

Both the teenagers entered, Amy taking off the helmet of her apparently professionally made new costume, then smiling a little at her. "I guess you haven't been following PHO for the last couple of days?"

"No, I've been very busy and haven't had time," she answered, still inspecting the costume with interest. "This is very high quality. Where did you get it?"

"A gift from a friend," the girl replied, in a way that made her think she was getting tired of repeating it. "Raptaur. She made it for me."

Feeling somewhat surprised, the older woman stared for a moment. "Well. There's a story behind that, I'm sure. Come in and tell me what's going on. And why both of you look like someone took your toys away."

She smiled when both girls exchanged a glance then simultaneously shrugged, appearing to cheer up a little. They certainly didn't look happy, something she was sadly familiar with in Amy's case but that was a little unusual in Vicky's. The blonde was normally a very extroverted and cheerful girl, almost to excess, but now she looked thoughtful and upset.

"Please don't tell me either of you has been casually insulting overly powerful and rather terrifying capes again," she asked as a horrible thought crossed her mind. Vicky winced a little at the reminder while Amy suddenly laughed.

"It's sort of the opposite, actually, Aunt Sarah."

They followed her into the living room and sat on one sofa, while she took a seat opposite them on the other one. "Tell me and I'll see if I can give you the benefit of my many years of experience," she told them with an amused smile. "It can't be all that bad." All three of them looked up as her husband Neil came into the room, smiling at the girls.

"I thought I heard familiar voices," he said, sounding pleased. "I haven't seen you two for a while."

"Hello, Uncle Neil," Amy said, getting up and hugging him for a moment before sitting down again, Vicky following suit.

He looked her over. "Nice costume," he said, before sitting next to his wife.

"Thanks."

"Crystal showed me an interesting video on PHO last night," he added, making the girl look mildly embarrassed. He grinned while his wife examined him, then looked back to the two visitors.

"Apparently there really is a story to it. Let's hear it, girls."

She and Neil listened for some time as Amy and Vicky took turns explaining the background to what had been happening in the Dallon girl's lives, then finally ended up retelling the events of earlier that morning. With a sinking heart she heard how her sister was being difficult again. "Oh, Carol," she sighed sadly. "Why do you act like this?"

Shaking her head, she glanced at Neil who had been listening silently although with a small frown on his face, then turned back to Amy who had finished speaking and was now simply sitting there waiting with an expression of mild depression. Not something she liked to see although she was somewhat used to it. "I'm very sorry about all of this for all of your sakes, girls. Amy, don't worry, I don't think you've done anything wrong at all. In fact if anything you're doing the right thing. We've all been worried about you for some time, the happy little girl I knew seemed to be slowly going away. If you've found her again, hold onto her with both hands and don't let go. You deserve to have a life as much as anyone."

"Carol seems to disagree," the girl muttered.

"Carol has extremely strong opinions about good and bad, which are sometimes…" She hesitated, searching for the right word. "...misplaced." Amy produced a tiny smile that seemed to convey wry appreciation of the term. "You are not a bad person, despite who your father was. But Carol had a bad experience with him and I fear that it's always colored her outlook where you're concerned even though you had and have absolutely nothing to do with it."

"You know who he was," Amy said in a flat knowing tone, meeting her eyes.

Sarah hesitated again, glancing at Neil, who made a small motion with one hand, then looked back and nodded. "I do." She studied the two girls. "Do you want to?"

"You'll tell me?" Now Amy sounded surprised. Vicky was simply listening, looking worried.

"You're old enough to know and mature enough to understand, dear. Yes, if you want to know, I'll tell you. If you don't, I'll understand and never mention it again unless you ask. But it does go some way to explaining why Carol is like she is towards you. Not all the way, though, I'm afraid."

Amy looked at her with a very analytical gaze for some time, making her a little uncomfortable. She was well aware of how smart the girl really was and wondered how much of the story she'd worked out over the years from what she'd heard and guessed.

Eventually, the brunette sighed a little. "My top guess would be Marquis." Everyone in the room stared at her, Vicky's head snapping around so quickly that Sarah half expected to hear a crack.

After a pregnant and startled pause, Sarah asked, "How did you work that out?"

"A similarity in looks based on pictures I've seen, a slight degree of similarity in powerset, the fact that I'm almost certainly a second generation trigger in the first place, and the timeline being pretty close," Amy shrugged. "It fits. I've had most of the information in my head for some time but I only put it all together just now. There were some other guesses as well but that one seemed the most likely. So it's true?"

"Yes." Sarah shook her head a little, glanced at Neil again, then asked, "Do you want to hear the story?"

"I suppose so," Amy replied a moment later, repeating the small slightly defeated shrug. "I'd like to know how I ended up with Carol as my mother, I guess. But I don't feel anything towards him, biological father or not. I never knew him, I don't remember him, and I don't really want to meet him even if I could. We read about him in school and while he has some good points for a villain it doesn't change the fact that he was a villain." She looked at her sister for a second. "I know who my family is and even if it's got its faults, I prefer it to the alternative."

Vicky put her arm over her sister's shoulders and held her for a moment, then released her without saying a word, but she looked pleased.

"Hopefully the truth about my parentage doesn't change things with you, Vicky."

"Of course it doesn't, Sis," the blonde said firmly.

"Thanks." They turned back to Sarah. "Let's hear the story."

"All right." She organized her thoughts for a moment, then began recounting the events of just over eleven years ago, which took some time. When she finally finished, Amy was silent again.

"Thank you, Aunt Sarah," she said quietly. "For telling me the truth."

"You deserved to hear it, Amy."

"Well, I've heard it, but I still feel the same. He may have been an honorable man in his own way but I can't say I like to think he was my father." The girl sighed a little. "Not that it matters. He's in the Birdcage for the rest of his life, I'll never meet him. Fine by me."

Neil got up, disappearing for a short time, then came back with a tray of drinks and some cookies, handing the two girls a glass of juice each and a plateful to share, before taking his seat again.

"The man had many faults, but as villains went, he wasn't the worst by a long shot, Amy," he said slowly. "I still have a certain amount of respect for him despite everything. Aside from anything else, he managed to produce a daughter I also respect and very much like, and wanted to see her properly looked after even if it was by a mortal enemy. That takes a considerable amount of courage and integrity, despite the rest of his flaws." He smiled slightly. "One day you might want to talk to him. Maybe not. But don't discount it permanently. You're still young and have a lot of time to think about it."

"I guess so, Uncle Neil," she replied, nibbling a cookie. "Maybe. But definitely not any time soon."

"I'm sorry about the situation with Carol, Amy," Sarah told her. "I'll go and talk to her. She means well but sometimes has an odd way of dealing with things. And as Vicky mentioned she doesn't handle sudden changes at all well."

"Thanks, Aunt Sarah," Amy said with relief in her voice. "I don't want to have to go through that again, but I'm not going to give up what I'm getting out of life now. Not for her. Sorry."

"Don't be, dear, you've done nothing wrong. My dear sister can be challenging to deal with at times, believe me, I've seen it before. There are good reasons for it but you're not the cause." She smiled as the girls both laughed. "We'll get this sorted out. Go and have fun, leave Carol to me."

"Thank you," the girl said again.

"You must introduce me to your very large friend with all the teeth," Sarah added, amused, as both girls stood. "She looks impressive in the recordings."

"She's more impressive when you're standing next to her," Amy laughed. "Or riding her. That's just… incredible."

"And leads to Clockblocker making some horrible jokes," Vicky giggled.

"Knowing the young man I can well believe it," Sarah sighed, smiling. "But I'm glad you're making friends, Amy."

The girl smiled, before following her sister out of the room, both waving as they left. The front door closed behind them leaving Sarah and her husband looking at each other. "Poor girl," Neil finally said. "Your sister isn't being very helpful, is she?"

"No, she isn't," Sarah grumbled, absent-mindedly eating one of the left-over cookies. "And the fact that Amy has overheard some of the things she's said to me all this time…? Christ. I'm not surprised the girl has been so down so much over the last couple of years, especially when you take the amount of work she's been doing for so long."

"And the type of work," Neil noted. "I'm glad she's finally decided to see sense and cut back to something closer to a sane level. Whoever persuaded her to deserves thanks."

"Definitely," Sarah nodded as she stood. "I'll be back later, I need to talk to my stubborn sister and try to persuade her not to drive away a young woman who despite everything has turned out very well."

"Good luck," he said with a small smile as she found her car keys and purse, then put her coat on. She gave him a wry smile and left. Alone, he happily finished off the cookies before going back to what he'd been doing.