They stopped off to get the wine, then continued the last few blocks to Mark's aunt's home. A small house, it was at the end of a quiet street, yet near enough the heart of the city for Mark to be able to walk to and from work. A very carefully tended garden graced the front of the building. A few short bushes and even shorter flowers was all it could boast, but these were lovingly watered every day, and their health glowed in the late afternoon sunlight. In the back was an equally cultivated garden, but one not quite as healthy looking as the one in the front. A well-used herb garden is inclined to look a little scraggly no matter how well tended.

A wonderful smell wafted from an open window, and Anne couldn't help but smile as it reached her. Mark smiled as well, pleased with the enjoyment he saw on her face, and with no little anticipation of the meal to come. He opened the fence gate for her, and the squeal of the hinges was the cue for two little whirlwinds to come streaming out of the house.

"Uncle Mark, Miss Anne," they cried over and over again, clamoring for attention and hugs. Tarasa latched on to Anne's waist while Emily attacked Mark at the thigh, almost overbalancing him. He stumbled, then made a big deal of regaining his balance as Anne reached down and slipped her arms over Tarasa's shoulders. Emily squealed, dismayed by what she had caused, then giggled when she saw that Mark was only teasing her. Tarasa laughed at her sister, hands coming up to cover her mouth, but the smile in her eyes giving her away.

Emily stuck her tongue out and ran back in the house.

"Grandma, grandma, Uncle Mark and Miss Anne are here!!" she announced, the house ringing with her glee.

"Oh, are they now," remarked Kathryn dryly, coming out of the kitchen and wiping her hands on a towel. While her dark brown hair may have dulled a bit with the passage of years, her eyes were still merry and full of twinkle. Soft lines edged her eyes and mouth, but they were marks of laughter and a life well lived, not etched planes of bitterness or misery.

And she could not be blamed if she had been miserable. With the death of her husband while her son was still young she had to struggle for years just to keep the two of them housed and fed. But she was rewarded by being able to watch him grow into a fine young man and marry an equally fine young woman who graced her life with two lovely granddaughters before she passed on. Then came the death of her son while he was in his prime, leaving her to raise two young girls when she should have been enjoying the calmer years of her old age. No woman should have to outlive her child, but instead of growing bitter, she opened her heart and her home to the new orphans.

She also opened her home to her nephew as he recuperated from a horrid attack that left him crippled. The same villain who killed her son left Mark bedridden for months and with a permanent limp. He stayed after he regained as much of his health as he ever would, in part because his new job supervising the plant's security forces paid less than his old one, but also because they had become a family, bonding through their grief and emerging stronger.

Anne could never enter the house without a pang of guilt. She loved Kathryn, loved how she treated her like a daughter, reveled in the simple love from the girls, and yet felt like she could never really belong. If they ever knew….

She really had to fight depression some days. She had left the ship to find herself, yet what did she do? She lied to everyone about her. She just hoped that they never had to find out the truth, any of the truths about her. Pictures of Kathryn's face when she heard the news, the looks of hatred instead of love on the girls' faces, the look of horror on Mark's when he learned that she was the one who crippled him… that she wasn't even a normal human… they plagued her on her darkest nights.

It seemed so solid to her, this love she felt, yet so fragile at the same time. She would do everything in her power to protect these people, but she knew that if they ever found out her secrets, that this love would shrivel up and dry away. She wanted… she wished that things could stay this perfect forever, but it was only a dream. Someday Mark would find a woman who would consent to be his wife, and there wouldn't be a place for her here anymore. The girls would grow up. Tarasa was already twelve, and her teenage moodiness was only one indication of her changing personality. Emily had grown nearly a foot since Anne had first met them, and looked to be in the middle of another growth spurt.

She resolved to enjoy every minute of their company, but she could not ignore the feeling that moments like these were all too fleeting. Being a plant, she might live to see Tarasa's grandchildren, and her grandchildren's grandchildren. The thought scared her.

These feelings and thoughts lurked at the back of her mind the entire visit, and Kathryn noticed. After dinner, she pulled Anne aside, concern in the look she gave the younger-seeming woman.

"Dear, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, really."

"There's something the matter. I can see it in your eyes," she chided.

Anne smiled. "It's just… You know I love you guys. But all of this… it seems so ephemeral. Like it's a dream, and I'm going to wake up soon."

"Nonsense. You can't get rid of us that easily. You know the girls love having you visit, and I enjoy a little female company every now and again."

"I know. I think I'm just being moody."

"You're allowed. Mark says it's very stressful at work for you these days."

"Yeah."

"So how is it going?"

"The project is going good. We're testing next week, and everyone is hard at work fine-tuning the prototype."

"So what's your problem?"

Anne flashed quick smile. "I think I can make it better."

"So?"

"I can't figure out why I think that."

"I see. Frustrated genius."

"Something like that."

"Well, you keep thinking on it. I'm sure it will come to you."

"I hope so."