Author's Note: Sorry this took me so long.

Epilogue

Two Months after the war…

Fox sighed, shutting the engine off on his car and sliding out, picking up the flower bouquet from the passenger seat and walking across the graveyard. His weekly ritual ever since he had touched back down after the war. Every Saturday morning, he bought some flowers and came here.

But even as he approached, he could tell something was different about the pair of gravestones that sat away from the others, on a private plot. He crouched on his heels between the two graves, frowning at the message that had been left for him in chalk.

I'm not dead.

Written in strong masculine writing across his father's gravestone. Below it, two series of numbers. He frowned, fishing his cell phone from his pocket and hitting the speeddial, staring at the strange message. A prank? Or… was this real?

"Hey Fox."

"Listen, Peppy, I need a favor. I need you to write down some numbers and figure them out for me."

"Ok, sure, I'll try."

Fox read them off, having Peppy repeat them back to him, then said, "Any ideas?"

"Sure, I know exactly what this is. This is a planetary coordinate. A latitude-longitude. Any idea what planet it's for?"

"… No." Fox replied, using the edge of his sleeve to wipe the chalk away and standing, leaving the flowers on his mother's grave.

"Fox, where did you find this?"

"Written on my father's grave." And he disconnected, running back to his car.

"Look, it's got to be a prank. Your father died. I saw it." Peppy said, looking at the coordinates. "Furthermore, this coordinate is in the middle of the ocean for Corneria."

"So it isn't Corneria." Fox snapped. "And what exactly DID you see, Peppy? You saw my father get shot down. You did NOT see him die!"

Peppy sighed, staring at him. He wasn't getting through to Fox, he could tell that much. "Ok. But even if he's alive, what is this? Why leave a coordinate without saying which planet it's for?"

"He's giving me where to meet him. But he's making me figure it out." Fox replied, staring at the numbers and trying to put it together. "Wouldn't be Venom, either."

"Fox, if he was shot down, he would have crashed there."

"He wouldn't be there now. He made it back into the city to write on his own grave, I think he's mobile." Fox frowned at him. "It was his handwriting Peppy."

"Handwriting can be forged." Slippy said, who had been watching this silently.

"Oh, don't tell me you're siding with him!" Fox burst out, then sighed when the phone rang, hitting the speakerphone answer. "Fox McCloud, Great Fox."

"Hey Fox! It's Beltino."

"Hi dad!" Slippy grinned.

"Hey son. Don't worry, I'm not calling to charge you money, I'm calling to congratulate you! I have no idea how you did it."

"… uh. Did what, Beltino?" Fox asked blankly.

"Your account was fully paid as of an hour ago. We already have the money posted to the account. Damn, man, you made that much for the war?"

There was utter silence as the three looked at each other. "Beltino, we didn't pay it off." Peppy said very slowly. "That payment we sent you right after the war was all we could manage."

"Then you have a mysterious benefactor, but either way, you're in the free and clear. Well, I should go…"

"Wait, wait a minute Beltino." Fox said, looking at the coordinates. "Can you tell us anything about the account that paid us off? They had to have posted it from a bank account."

"Yes, it was… You know, I'm not supposed to do this, it's confidential information." Beltino admonished, looking at the receipt he had.

"Humor me."

"Not much to say. It's a business account, I don't know the company name. Based off of… Papetoon? What the hell?"

"Oh my god. That's it. Thanks Beltino." He hung up, looking at the other two on the command deck. "Sort for launch. We're leaving."

"Bill's on the way to visit, and Falco's due back in half an hour." Slippy protested.

"… ok, fine, fuck it, but we leave as soon as they get here."

"You can't possibly believe this." Peppy said.

Fox just looked at him, shook his head, and left the command deck.

"The coordinates check out." ROB reported, showing a holographic display of Papetoon. "Half an hour's drive from a large city. Lots of landing space."

"I don't get it, what's the significance of Papetoon?" Falco asked.

"My dad was born there. Came here when he was about twenty." Fox replied, fingers flying across a keyboard, digging for more information. "He dropped me the story in two pieces. He's alive, and he went back to his homeplanet."

"But why not just come home?" Peppy wanted to know, spreading his hands.

Fox stopped, chewing his lower lip. "I don't know. I want to find out. Even if this is just a lead to someone who knows what happened, I need to know."

"I'm with you." Bill said. "I miss the old man."

"We all do." Slippy said. "But this stinks of being a trap."

"A trap set by who? They found Andross' body. We personally gunned down Star Wolf." Falco said.

"Ok, good point, but still…"

Fox huffed, moving to the viewports and staring out at the hyperspace-blurred stars. "What's our ETA, ROB?"

"Half an hour. We're hitting the fringe." The robot replied.

"All right."

"Morning, Wolf." James said, pouring another cup of coffee and handing it to the younger man, who leaned his cane against the cabinets and took the mug two-handed gratefully. "How did you sleep?"

"Eh, all right. The pain drugs help. I just wish I knew why your dad kept switching my prescription every two weeks." Wolf took a drink, sighing in contentment. Apparently, one of the crops grown on Papetoon was coffee, down in the southern hemisphere, and it was superb.

"Addiction blocking. He's rotating you between four pain drugs, all of which have different main active ingredients." James shrugged.

Wolf nodded once. "How did your little trip go?"

"Went all right. Now it's just waiting to see how it turns out. If the boy is smart enough to add two and two."

"He seemed pretty damn bright on the battlefield." Wolf rubbed the back of his neck one-handed. "Should we be expecting him imminently?"

"Well, it's… about eleven there, Cornerian City time." James looked at the clock on the wall, frowning thoughtfully. "So yeah, I think maybe. I'm already preparing for a massive barbeque."

"I noticed the fridge is packed with meat and booze. You have like seven kinds of alcohol in there, easily." Wolf lifted an eyebrow.

"You'll see when they get there. That said, would you be willing to make a store run in a little bit?"

"Eh, sure. I'm living on your dime, man, I'll do what I can to make it up."

James reached over and ruffled the fur between his ears. "You don't have to, kid." He poured another cup of coffee and left the spacious kitchen, padding down the gently rounded highway and turning into one of the bedrooms. "Marisa." He crouched by the bed, waiting for her to stir.

She did, lazily, and smiled at him. "Morning. Oo, thanks." She accepted the mug, sitting up in bed. "What time is it?"

"About nine AM. Figured you'd want a wake-up call." He sat on the edge of the bed. "I'm expecting my son to show up at some point today."

"I'm looking forward to it." She smiled at him, and they leaned into each other, James setting his muzzle on top of her head absently. The first week on Papetoon had been chaos, James running around and pulling on every old connection he had, getting the money secured in local accounts, arranging for them to have local ID, and pulling every decent construction firm he could. As it had turned out, the "Hideout" he had referred to was, as Wolf had glibly put it, a hobbit home. It had only been partly tunneled out into a hill, locked up for years, unfinished. When they had arrived the first time with a survey crew, James had been ecstatic to find his hover motorcycles still parked in one of the rooms, which had been promptly moved to his father's ranch. After that, a design was drawn up, and the house was finished, sun tunnels letting in natural light everywhere, outer rooms with windows to the outside. Marisa loved it; there was something instinctually satisfying about living in some very classy underground tunnels. "… how are we going to explain this to your son?" She finally asked, nuzzling his shoulder then turning her head aside so she could take a drink of her coffee.

"We'll figure it out." He gave her one last squeeze and let her go, standing. "Wolf and I already went through the shower, so you have the hot water heater all to yourself."

She smiled and nodded, and he left the room, picking up a phone as he passed it and dialing a number, pinning it between his cheek and shoulder. "Hey dad."

"Hey James, what's the occasion?"

"Well, nothing's set yet, but there's a very good possibility my son and his crew are showing up today, and I'm going to have a barbeque if they do. Want to come?"

"We'll be there. What time?"

"Sometime around lunch."

"All right, see you later."

He hung up and hung the phone off his belt absently, walking onto the back patio and staring out absently. The hill was surrounded by open plains and fields, plenty of landing room if they decided to fly straight in as opposed to landing at the airport and driving out. He had an old friend who basically ran the airport; he'd be getting a phonecall when the Great Fox showed up on their radar.

So now it was just the waiting. But what the hell, he'd been waiting two months, what were another few hours?

"This is Papetoon Flight Command, please identify yourselves."

"This is Fox McCloud, commander of the fast-attack cruiser Great Fox. We are requesting landing clearance for…" He looked at the map, and read off the name of the town he was heading for.

"Acknowledged, Great Fox. We do not have landing slips appropriate for your cruiser. We suggest you fly down in smaller craft. Are you here on business?"

"No… just visiting family."

"All right, how many craft should I clear?"

Fox glanced over his shoulder. "Five fighters."

"Acknowledged. You're clear to start corridor descent in four minutes."

Fox signed off, picking up his jacket and shrugging into it absently. "Shall we?"

"Corridor descent?" Bill wondered out loud, following Fox as the others did, going down to the launching bay. "Man, that's a flashback. They must be restricting incoming traffic."

"On an agg planet, it's pretty standard operating procedure." Peppy said. "Can't have kids doing low-flying over farming fields, it'll rip them up."

"Guess that makes sense."

"Ok, here's the plan." Fox said, hopping up into his arwing and buckling in. "We be nice boys and use their corridor, then break and head to the coordinates. If I know my dad, he'll have landing space available."

"If it is your dad."

"Peppy, you are such a killjoy sometimes."

"They're incoming." James reported, leaning on the car's A-pillar. "So this is actually good timing. I can do at least part of a fill-in before you two get back."

"Well, don't be too long winded about it, we won't be that long." Marisa smiled at him, relaxing behind the wheel of the car. James' mother, Emily, had taught her to drive while James had been running around getting everything dealt with, and she seemed to enjoy the independence it gave her. Wolf was sitting shotgun.

"You don't have to go, you know." Wolf remarked to Marisa.

"Hey, I volunteered." She directed the smile to him, starting the car and pulling away, going down the long driveway and turning onto the main highway toward the city.

James watched them go with a sigh, smiling to himself, and picked up a box of flares, going toward the back of the house. From descent corridor to his house was less then five minutes. He popped the flares open and threw them, marking the landing zone absently, and picked up his coffee mug peacefully.

He didn't have long to wait before the planes became visible, flying in as low as the local law allowed, diamond formation. He stayed where he was, setting down his mug and lifting an arm silently as the planes came lower over the fields around the Hideout, doing a wide circle and then a tight one around the flares, touching down in formation. Fox leapt out of his plane, touching down on the ground and staring for a second, then running across the grass and meeting him with a bearhug, laughing.

"I didn't figure Venom could get lucky and kill you." He remarked, letting go and stepping back, grinning at his father. "What the hell took so long dad? It's been two months since the end of the war!"

"I had to get some things done. I'm glad to see you can put two and two together."

"So you are the one who paid off the Great Fox? How did you get the money?"

"In due time." James assured him, looking to the others, who had caught up. "Hey, boys."

"James, man, I can't believe it. How many lives do you have?" Peppy said by way of greeting, clapping hands with him and grinning.

"A lot more, I'm sure. Come on, come inside. I'll tell you the entire story." He turned, picking up his mug and leading them across the patio, opening the sliding glass door and letting them pass him and go into the kitchen.

"Is this place underground?" Falco finally asked, looking around.

"Berm house. Right?" Slippy said at the same time.

"Exactly." James nodded at Slippy, setting his empty mug in the sink. "Cost a fortune, but it's worth it. You guys want a drink? I hold it's ok early in the day if you're planning a barbeque. And I am." Bill laughed, and they all nodded, James opening the fridge and studying the assorted bottles. "And besides, drinking age here is eighteen. Ok, let's see if I remember. My son and Falco are hard lemonades…" Two bottles flew over his shoulder, they scrambled to catch them. "Bill's the cranberry variety… Peppy's a beer man, hey I found your brand." Peppy caught the bottle, smiling at the label. "You're the one I don't know." He ended, looking around the fridge door at Slippy.

"Vodka cooler?"

"Only have the orange kind." He tossed him the bottle, closing the fridge, holding a bottle of water. "So, I imagine you want an explanation. Where shall I start?"

"I'd love to know how you survived getting shot down." Peppy said, following behind him as the group moved down the curved hallway, coming out a few minutes later in a living room. The younger members immediately found seats, Bill flopping into a beanbag chair contentedly, admiring the stereo set up across an entertainment system.

"Oh, that's the easy part." James sat, opening his water. "I let Pigma shoot me down. Let go of my controls in fact. I knew it was going to happen." He took a drink, letting this sink in. "You see, I was already contracted for work. And I'd been informed by my employer that Pigma was going to try to backstab me, and it was decided that event could be used to our advantage." Seeing Fox staring at him, he smiled tiredly. "Andross contracted me. He had… good leverage."

"WHAT!" Fox asked. "You're not serious."

"The broke mercenary takes what he could get. I knew that there was a war coming up, and that General Pepper would hire Star Fox. So did Andross, and wanted me out of the equation. But Andross and I had a long history, in fact, we used to be pretty good friends. He couldn't bring himself to kill me, so he found a good way to bring me to his side. Had me stay on his command cruiser as a noncombatant." He took a drink. "Oh, I felt like shit about it for a while, but it turned out fine in the end."

There was a long silent moment, the group glancing at each other then at James, who was silent and neutral, contemplating his water bottle and ignoring their looks.

"It wasn't money." Peppy said. "You wouldn't have worked for him for just money. What did he have James?"

James smiled slightly, setting the water bottle on a coaster and walking over to the stereo, going through the collection of disks he was slowly building back up. "I have a question for you, son." He remarked over his shoulder.

"Shoot."

"I always figured you never noticed, but it occurred to me that you may have been a lot more perceptive then I gave you credit for, even when you were young." He paused in his movements. "Did you ever pick up on what was wrong with me, these last thirteen years?"

Fox blinked at him, then sighed. "Yes."

"Am I now?"

Another long silence, during which Falco huffed. "Are you what?" He asked James pointedly. "I hate being out of the loop."

"My dad has spent the last thirteen years trying to off himself." Fox said in a blank voice. "Lucky for me, I was always able to pick up on his moods and interrupt him."

"Oh holy shit." Bill almost dropped his drink, staring at James. "Old man, you never really let on. You never even really seemed depressed."

James shrugged. "I'm good at covering my emotions. Figured I didn't need to burden my friends with my mental instabilities. When Fox's mother died, I lost it. Which brings me back to my question." He turned back to Fox. "Am I now?"

Fox stood, going over to him. They stared at each other for a while, then he smiled. "No. You're not."

"Right."

"What did Andross do?"

"Had something I wanted. Needed. Which I still have. No, not money, not drugs. Nothing so monetary, though I will say I will never need to work again." He shrugged. "When things started going to hell, I helped Fox out on Venom, then cut to here. I figured I may as well stay dead in Lylat… maybe I'll get some peace that way… and after all, my real home is Papetoon."

"So let me get this straight. You worked for Venom during the war and cut out immediately afterward." Slippy said, rubbing his chin. "For something you won't fully explain."

James grinned, and Peppy nearly did a spit-take. "I know that grin." He sputtered, getting beer out of his nose. "You don't do that satanic grin unless you've been doing something you really, really should not be doing."

James only laughed.

"Need help carrying this stuff?" Wolf asked, opening the car's hatch absently.

"Nah, it's light." Marisa grabbed the grocery bags easily, full of buns, tomatoes, and other such things. "So what are you going to do?" She finally asked, watching him close the hatch.

"I'm going to go fiddle with the hovercycle James gave me. Give them some time, maybe come in later." He finally said, picking up his cane and leaning on it. He had no idea where Stephan had got it. It was stylish, carved black wood and polished silver metal, easily making up for the fact that it split up at the end into four skidproof feet. It was better then a crutch any day. "Don't blow their brains too badly." He added this with a smile, and they split, him walking slowly around the house to the large garage, her walking across the patio and into the kitchen.

"James? I'm back." She called, setting the bags on the kitchen table. Thirty seconds later he vaulted into the kitchen, and she returned the half-hug absently, laughing. "The farmer's market in town is great, look at all this." She remarked, starting to empty the bags.

"Farming planet." He replied, leaning on the table, still looking at her as the others drifted in, Fox and Peppy stopping in the doorway until the others made them move.

"Oh, my god." Peppy said, staring at Marisa, then at James, comprehension clicking.

"Oh, hi boys!" She gave them a bright smile, finding room in the fridge for salad makings. "I've heard a lot about you. My name is Marisa. I live here."

"Hi, Marisa." Falco said, blinking. She was wearing tennis shoes, Capri jeans, and a white crop top, long hair loosely tied back. He was trying to place her age, older then him, but how much so? And why was she familiar? He'd seen a picture… somewhere…

"Mom?"

Silence reigned in the kitchen, everyone looking at Fox, who was shellshocked, staring at her with wide eyes, the bottle dangling in one of his hands. Bill rescued it before it was dropped.

Marisa stood there for a moment, looking back at this younger man. Just like the pictures she had seen, eighteen, defiant, his father's handsomeness, but her own eyes looking back at her. She sighed, smiling gently at him as she closed the fridge, stepping over and taking one of his hands. "No. Not exactly, dear. But close. Very close indeed."

"I don't understand." He replied, voice blank, feeling like he was five years old again, his brain not comprehending what was going on. It was her, wasn't it? He knew that face. He'd spent much of his first years of life memorizing it. Even after all this time, it hadn't passed from his memory.

"It isn't an easy story." She replied, still clasping his hand between her own, glancing at James. "How much have you told them?"

"Eh, not a lot. Filled them in on where I've been, that Andross and I struck a deal. I didn't go into how he bribed me." James admitted.

"Well, that's easy enough." She looked back at the others. "The reason I look like Fox's mother is because I'm genetically identical to her. I'm a clone."

Peppy stared at James. "This is how Andross paid you? Told you he'd bring your wife back?"

"As horrible as it sounds when you put it that way, yes, sort of." Marisa said, patting the back of Fox's hand gently and letting it go. Fox recovered his drink from Bill and slugged it. "But he didn't clone me because he figured he could bribe James. He cloned me because he loved Vixy too. And he's the one that accidentally killed Vixy, years and years ago." She shrugged, shaking her head. "It's hard to wrap your head around isn't it? I wasn't told any of this until recently. And it's ok. I'm ok with it. Just because my genetics code the same as a much-loved wife from years ago doesn't mean I'm not my own person. James will tell you I am not Vixy, that I am very different."

"Andross told me that if I stayed out of commission during the war, he'd let me get to know her." James said bluntly. "And Peppy, you know how unbalanced I've been the last many years. A second chance with the one person I had ever lived for? How could I turn that down? And you know what, it worked out just fine." He helped himself to a beer, and gave Peppy the satanic grin again.

"Mother of god."

James snickered softly. "So. That's why I've been gone. After the war we came here and settled in. Andross gave me the rest of his warchest, his last wish I was told, and that's how I paid off the Great Fox. I figure, it's my debt, might as well not saddle you guys with it."

"Nice of you." Fox said, finally recovering enough to speak again, looking at Marisa. "So… you're not my mom. Not exactly, anyway."

"No, sweetie. I'm not. I'm sorry."

"It's ok… you have to understand my surprise though."

"Yes I do, and I'm even getting used to it." She smiled sourly. "I seem to surprise everyone in some way or another, be it my relation to Vixy, or something else." She tossed a hand, then looked at James. "You're still grilling, right?"

"Yeah, probably will start the coals maybe 11:30."

"Great, thanks."

James looked back to the others, letting them finish catching up on what had just happened, then said cheerfully, "Any questions?"

"No, but I think you've a bit twisted." Bill said.

"Fair enough, look at me. AWOL, presumed dead, dating a clone of my former wife, living underground…" He ticked these things off on his fingers, smiling. "But, hell boys. I've been busting my ass for the Cornerian Military most of my life, and before that I was trying to force the Imperialists offplanet since I was fuckin' fourteen. I think I've earned a very, very long vacation. Like, my lifetime." He looked at Fox, who looked back. "Congratulations. Commander."

Fox blinked. "You're not coming back?"

"Oh, hell no, I'm going to find out what it's like to have hobbies and be bored." James snorted, taking a drink. "I hope you don't mind?"

"I guess I should just be grateful you're alive."

"Good boy. You guys hanging around? I've got a huge barbeque planned, and I've already taken into account your bottomless pit appetites." He got nods all around, and smiled at Peppy. "And I took the fact that you're veggie into account, Pep, I've got un-shish'ed kabobs marinating."

"Thanks."

"For what it's worth, I'm glad you're all taking this as well as you have been. I almost figured you'd all be freaking out by now."

"For what it's worth, I nearly did. May I have another?" Fox held up the empty bottle, smiling at Marisa when she handed him another one and pointed him to a recycle bin. "I mean, consider this chain of thought. I find out my dad's alive, then meet someone who looks like my mom. Anything else I should know?"

"Well, your grandparents will be showing up in time for lunch."

"I have grandparents now? Well hell. Guess I'll get used to having a family."

"When do I enter this equation?" A new voice asked from the door.

"Coming in already?" Marisa asked, glancing at Wolf, who leaned his shoulder against the open door. "Close the door, kid."

"Pft, kid, right, you're eight years older then me?" He asked, coming fully in and leaning on his cane. "I reached the point where I'll need another pair of hands, mostly due to the fact that my leg's being a bitch."

"Wait, whoa, FUCK! Wolf O'Donnel, right!" Falco said, finally recognizing the face he'd seen on the heads-up. The eyepatch was gone, the voice, different somehow, but comprehension had clicked.

"Yeah." Wolf poured himself coffee. "Formerly a Venomian fighter ace. But before you decide to lunge and kill me…" He turned slowly, favoring the leg, which was aching rawly. "Decide if I'm a threat."

Falco blinked, and Fox, who had been getting ready for said fight, dropped his hands and stared as Wolf leaned on the cane again. Wolf sighed and turned slowly, letting Fox see the huge leg brace, which started below his knee and went most of the way up his thigh. As Fox's eyes traced up it, he unbuttoned the shirt, letting the recent surgery scars show. "Holy shit." Fox said.

"Thanks." Wolf buttoned his shirt back up and took a drink of his coffee. "You did owe me that one." He conceded, pointing at Fox with the coffee mug. "I was being an asshole. And then there's the whole thing where you thought I helped kill your dad…"

"For what it's worth, he had been informed before hand that I was trading to his side and that I had to appear dead. In fact, Pigma was the only one NOT informed in that little band." James said. "And don't worry… he got what was coming to him."

"Did he ever." Wolf half-smiled. "Relax, guys, I'm defanged. I can barely walk, even with a cane. Some days I can barely crawl. I've already concluded that fighting with Venom was a stupid idea on my part."

"Then why did you?" Peppy asked. "Surely that was obvious pretty quick."

"Because even if I white-flagged, what would it have mattered? I only did it because I wanted to fly planes, and with this…" He pointed at his eye. "Well, Corneria Air Force said to bugger with me."

"I almost thought the eye-patch was fake. Like you were trying to make yourself seem tough." Bill said. "Mostly because I figured there is no fuckin' way a guy can be that good one-eyed."

"Well, today is your day to be surprised. I'm blind in that eye." Wolf shrugged, lifting himself and sitting on the edge of the counter, cane hooked on his arm. "To that end, can I trust that you guys will not be attempting to kill me today?"

"Anyone tries, I kick their ass." James said, and got a round of winces from all those present. "And I suppose we all know how that would end up. All right, who wants to be recruited to help me wrangle a bunch of hamburgers?"

Fox leaned on the picnic table, jaw propped on hand, watching everything happen around him. It was nearing noon, which pretty much meant the backyard was where everyone was. His father's huge grill was full, Peppy and Falco were trying to help keep track of everything and mostly failing. His grandparents had shown up, and after the whirlwind of introduction, pretty much everyone was mingling. He had been doing a lot of talking, but now was taking a few minutes to catch up with all this.

So his father was retiring from active duty. That was a good thing, he figured, and what the hell, he had his own cruiser, so he could come visit whenever he felt like it. Wolf's presence was still jarring him a bit… he'd already almost socked Wolf once out of sheer defensive instinct because he'd been studying the entertainment center and Wolf had limped by behind him. He'd apologized, Wolf had shrugged it off, it almost seemed he had been expecting it.

Then there was Marisa.

He turned his gaze to her, standing not ten feet away, talking to his grandmother. It still .. shocked him, unsettled him, disarmed him to the point of being five years old. His brain knew otherwise, but his instincts were trying to override and say, that's mom, even though it really wasn't. And he knew it wasn't, he'd been observing her the last few hours, and agreed. She was nothing like his mother, no, she was bolder, had a lot more attitude. He could see what his dad saw in her… and could see why his father wouldn't get her confused with his passed-away wife.

Yup, his life was ready for tabloids.

He jumped when Bill landed next to him and offered him his third bottle, already open. He took it gladly. "Thanks, dude."

"You looked like you needed it. You feeling ok? I mean these people aren't even my family and I'm dealing with the shocks."

"I think so. I mean, they're good shocks, you know? I went from being orphaned to getting my dad back and getting grandparents with the deal." He shrugged.

"So that's what your mom looked like man?" Bill switched subjects without blinking, which was normal for him, gesturing at Marisa with his half-empty bottle. "Man, I nearly forgot all those pictures in your house. Pardon the comment, but, DAMN."

"You'll forgive me if I glare at you. She isn't technically my mother, but I can still bitch at you for drooling." Fox replied. "My mom didn't dress like that. Not really anyway. She was more… feminine."

"I can't argue this version." Falco said, sitting down on the other side of Fox, having been removed from his position of co-chef, as James had figured out Falco hadn't a clue how to barbeque. They'd had a good laugh over him trying though. "I'm glad you said something when you did, or I would so be hitting on her right now."

"Guys, god damn it…"

Bill and Falco both laughed, unable to help it. "Dude, lighten up." Bill said, ruffling Fox's fur in jest. "Besides, if you had started hitting on her, I think old man over there would be serving you for lunch, no offense." He directed this at Falco, who stuck his tongue out.

"I heard that." James said from the other side of the patio.

"And you know it's right." Bill said cheerfully, and caught the piece of chicken James pitched at him in his mouth easily. "Thank you."

"Bah." James turned back to the grill.

"Look who's off by his lonesome." Falco remarked. Fox looked where he was, and saw Wolf sitting away from the patio, a good twenty or thirty feet away on the side of the hill, leaning on the heels of his hands and staring up at the sky.

"Hell if I were him, I would be to." Bill said. "This has got to be uncomfortable. We were all his enemies once."

"I still don't like him much. I mean, just because someone seems harmless doesn't mean they are." Falco pointed out.

"Yeah, but you're going to do what about it? He's got the old man's protection on this one, and I won't argue it. Everyone's allowed to come back from at least one bad mistake in their lifetime." Bill took a drink, and blinked when Fox stood, picking up a bottle of water. "Where are you going?"

Fox didn't reply, walking off the patio and across the hill to flop beside Wolf, offering the bottle. "Hey."

"Um, hi?" Wolf lifted an eyebrow, accepting the bottle. "What brings you over here?"

"Great day like today is, I figured no one deserves to skulk off alone." Fox replied. "And I already picked up on the fact that you're banned from booze."

"Heard Stephan give me another riot act eh?" Wolf shook his head. "He's the one that patched me up, if you didn't catch that much, and all the painkillers he's got me on.. which don't always work... mean I can't drink. Otherwise I'd probably be through a six pack by now, just because your happy ass is here." He took a drink of water, eyeing Fox sideways. "You're damn good. Just so you know."

"Thank you. I think." Fox returned the look.

"I mean it. You kicked my ass. Twice."

"No. Just once."

"What?"

"The second time, you gave up."

"Was wondering if you noticed that." Wolf said to himself, drawing up one knee and leaning on it absently, rubbing his injured leg absently. "Listen, the war.. wasn't anything personal. Just a job. And Andross was the only person who gave me a chance at what I wanted to do."

"Dude, if I was holding a grudge, you'd be back in the hospital, and I'd be in the bed next to you bitching my dad out." Fox snorted.

Wolf laughed softly at that. "Your father is an odd one all right. We got to be friends because we started sparring on the command cruiser. And after I was deployed, I needed a friendly face, so I got in the habit of calling him over the radio."

"I'm not upset about it man. It just shocked the hell out of me to see you here. I thought you were dead."

"For a few minutes there, so did I." Wolf replied. "For the record, never fly a test plane."

"I'll remember that. You going to come be social now? Or do I have to drag you?"

"Bah, good luck, I'm mostly muscle, so I'm heavy."

"Is that a dare?"

They stared at each other, and Wolf laughed. "Give me a hand up."

Fox stood and did, handing Wolf the cane, and they walked back to the patio, where lunch had just hit the table.

Marisa waved at the retreating car, smiling. It was early evening now, and James' parents had left. Fox's group was still here, bullshitting with James and Wolf in the living room by the sounds of it.

She smiled and flopped into the porchswing by the front door, moving it with one foot absently. The day had been busy, but a good one. She liked Fox, it was clear that James had done a pretty ok job of raising his son alone. It was surreal, she could tell the genes in her body had contributed to him… even if it hadn't been her. His friends were a riot act, but then again, they had spent most of the day on about two beer's worth of alcohol each. It seemed they shared a good common rottery, picking on each other freely while Peppy occasional refereed the ensuing impromptu wrestling matches.

She almost missed Andross. But she could tell her life was going to be ok.

"Marisa?"

She blinked, looking toward the door. Fox was looking out, door half-open. "Oh, hey."

"Got a minute?"

"Sure." She wove him forward, and he sat next to her on the swing, now holding a coffee mug. "What's up, kid?"

"Oh, well, not sure how to put this."

"Then say it wrong, at least then we have something to edit."

"I guess that makes sense." He took a drink, then huffed. "Look. You're not my mom. I don't remember her to good… she died when I was really little. But I remember bits and pieces, and I can tell, you're someone pretty different. I'm ok with that… and I'm ok with you and my dad being together." He took another drink, clearly mulling something over. "I guess what I want to ask is if it's ok to call you mom anyway."

She stared at him for a second, blinking, then nodded slowly. "Sure. I think that'd be just fine."

He smiled weakly. "Thanks." Leaving it at that, he stood and wandered back inside, yelling a bawdy comment as an insert to a story Bill was telling.

Almost an hour later, James came out front, and found Marisa still sitting there, smiling and rubbing at tears. He didn't ask, but, he didn't really need to.