"I knew we should have gone with the girls instead of letting those two play chaperones."

Jean gave her husband's hand a light, reassuring squeeze. "I don't know. It's given us a chance to see star talent up close and personal." She sighed quietly and peered into the medlab. "Granted, it'd be better if that star talent was actually awake."

"Star talent? Jean, maybe ..."

"Let me dream, Scott."

Scott, as ordered, closed his mouth and let the woman dream.

"Jean?" Cecilia called from inside the lab, voice muffled due to the fact she was at the time poring through several charts.

"Hmm?"

"I think he's coming around."

"Maybe he'll give out autographs," Scott suggested, alarmed at the look Jean shot him. "What?"

"We're not going to exploit his misfortune like that, Scott. Not when he's already suffered so much trauma on our part." The corners of her mouth lifted ever so slightly into a grin. "Besides, I want a t-shirt."

As she walked into the room, she smiled reassuringly at the young man.

That was until he spoke.

"Brit? You dyed your hair."

Jean stopped dead in her tracks and glanced self-consciously down at her chest, then at Cecilia. "Do they really look fake?"

"And your hair got bigger."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"And your voice changed. You got taller."

"Dios. I think we found a creature even more dense than Guthrie!" Cecilia exclaimed in obvious sincerity. "I can't wait to tell him. He'll be glad to hear it."

"Glad to hear what?"

Cecilia looked to the doorway, then motioned for the young man to join them. "We were just discussing my patient, that's all."

Justin looked at Sam. Sam looked at him. Both paled.

"Oh mah Lord. Ah didn't kill 'im an' now he's gonna sue me!"

"Kill me? Lance, dude, what's that thing on your chin?"

Jean looked at Cecilia. Cecilia looked at her. Both women's eyebrows raised.

Sam frowned and turned to look at the doctor. "Ah thought you said he was gonna be okay."

"I thought he would be! Maybe he wears contacts or something and they got knocked out."

"No, I don't," Justin corrected, never taking his eyes off Sam. "Seriously, dude. What's that thing on your face?"

Finding himself suddenly ridiculed by a boy who himself barely looked old enough to shave, Sam self-consciously touched his chin and felt the stubble there in his meager attempt to grow a goatee. Jean, catching the move, touched his arm sympathetically.

"Don't feel bad. He's already insulted me, too."

"Who'd he get you confused with?"

Jean flinched. "Britney Spears."

Sam's brow furrowed. "But . . ."

"I know. Believe me, I know." She paused suddenly, staring up at him with a curious expression. "One thing that's been bothering me, though. Um . . . That place had to have been crawling with security guards. How did you manage to get past all of them?"

"Ah ran. Really, really fast."

Jean arched a single eyebrow in disbelief. Sam shrugged.

"Fear's a powerful motivator."

******

It was really a horrible thought to think that the last four days of your adolescent experience were going to be spent in fear of being tracked down and arrested for aiding and abetting an attempted murderer. She had, after all, complete knowledge of where Sam was staying and where the police could find him.

*Yer makin' too much outta this, Paige,* Jono reasoned, dropping down onto the couch beside her and handing her the history report she was proofreading for him. He'd already performed complete overhaul of it twice and modified it three times since then. He hoped she'd be happy enough with the results so he could turn it in the next morning. Something told him her current worried state would result in her nitpicking at his report and all the painstaking research he'd done for it.

She turned the cover sheet and immediately slammed the report down on her lap. Jono winced; if she couldn't even make it past the first word, that probably wasn't a good sign.

"It's only a matter of time before the police track me down."

*They're not going to. I mean, from what you said, Sam didn't kill 'im.*

Paige shook her head sadly and handed the report back to her on-again, off-again boyfriend and rose to her feet. "I'm sorry, Jono. I'm just not really in the mood for this right now. I'll look at it again in a little bit, okay?"

Jono nodded sullenly. He'd just check it himself and turn it in anyway. He was a talented writer, but he considered himself lucky if he spelled "cat" right every time.

Paige walked across the room and settled down at the computer, signing on to first check a Buffy the Vampire Slayer message board she frequented, then her e-mail. She was halfway through her third piece of junkmail when she was given a reason to curse AOL for all its worth. An Instant Message popped up, and she sighed when she recognized the name.

IceIceBobby: hey

She debated for a minute about answering him. Perhaps if she stayed very quiet and very still, he'd leave. She debated that in the same manner as she had so many times considered telling him his screenname was only meant to be a prank on Jubilee's part. Both ideas were lost. And besides, she reasoned, she needed someone unbiased to talk to.

So, in the end, her only option was to answer.

PLG1883: Hi.

IceIceBobby: Just wanted to say thanks for the pictures.

PLG1883: You're welcome.

IceIceBobby: That Britney. She's one hot lady, huh?

PLG1883: ...

IceIceBobby: Yeah. So how're you holding up? Your brother's going crazy over here.

PLG1883: Not much better to be honest.

IceIceBobby: The kid's okay. The nsync guy, not your bro.

PLG1883: So Sam didn't kill him?

IceIceBobby: Nah. Threw him for a loop, and I don't think Jean's much of a fan anymore. Come to think of it, we had to forcefully keep Cecilia from shooting him up full of something when he saw her dreads and insisted on calling her Chris. Nevermind the different skin colors and everything.

PLG1883: Must have been interesting.

IceIceBobby: Oh, it wat.

IceIceBobby: Was. Sorry, can't type.

PLG1883: It's okay. Did Sam ever come up with a decent reason why exactly he tried to take out a boyband guy?

IceIceBobby: I don't think so. Wolverine said he was mumbling something in the car about boybands being evil and needing to be stopped or something like that. Poor guy's gone nuts.

PLG1883: Yeah, poor guy.

PLG1883: Hey, does Cable have an email address?

IceIceBobby: Yeah. Scott has it, I think. Why?

PLG1883: I just need to tell him something, that's all.

Paige leaned back in her chair, a slow grin creeping across her face. The day would not be a waste after all.