"What does this mean?" Waylin asked as he squeezed his daughter's shoulders. Twain shrugged, studying the five white rose laying in front of him. It hadn't even been four o'clock in the morning when his cell-phone had woke him up. He had been severely pissed at Beast Boy, the one who had called him, until he heard the boy's story. A white rose had been left in Harley and Raven's room, which had probably been left by the WRK himself. And if that had not been enough, the kid had said that the dark one had seen her own rape. Unsteady, he had ended his phone call, only to pick it up when it rang again. This time, it had been the leader calling, saying that a white rose had been left on the red-head's pillow, which she had been sleeping on.
Somehow, the mayor's nephew had gotten Twain cell-phone number, and was ranting about how the White Rose Killer, or some sicko, had left a white rose on Hannah Carson's pillow. And if that hadn't been enough, the girl that had been in the wreck with Red had also received a white rose.
Damnit. He was targeting the girls who had escaped his wrath. But who would he go after first? Hannah, his first victim? Or the titans? None of this made any sense. First off, how did he know about the titans?
Twain studied each officer that loomed nearby. What of one of his men was the White Rose Killer?
Twain shoved a hand through his hair. Each girl had been called to the police building in order to be questioned. Twain would have…okay, no, there was no way he would have gone to them each, so this was the only option in his opinion, though he was receiving livid glares from the boyfriends of the ones in casts.
"Alright, so lets just lay down what we know." Twain stretched and leaned back in his chair. "You lucky five are the next victims, or so the WRK hopes. He'll probably be hell-bent on making sure you suffer for getting out of his grasp. So, each of you will never go out alone, or be anywhere alone. You will never go anywhere without a crowd around you, and if you do, well, then you're just stupid, and I don't deal well with stupidity. If I have to, I'll assign officers to watch you."
"You know good and well that we'll protect them, Twain." Robin muttered, arms crossed over his chest with a devil-may-care look.
"Yes, well, two of you are titans, and the others are just humans." That comment sparked immediate confusion.
"Titans?" Wyatt asked, his gaze immediately falling on Starfire and Robin.
"Yes, since you are now all inadvertently involved in this, it's high time you know." Twain sighed.
"Dru Moody--Raven, Logan Field--Beast Boy, Grayson Rich—Robin, and Rose Skylar—Starfire. Cyborg is Victor Stone, but he is not as important in the case as the rest of the titans."
Mallory shifted on her crutches. Damn how she hated these things. "So the entire time I was befriending a titan?"
Starfire's cheeks bloomed pink. "I am sorry if I have somehow made you wary of me."
Mallory shook her head. "No…I just hope you weren't feeling sorry for me and acting like a friend."
"Of course not," Starfire said, but was cut off by Twain.
"Save all the sniveling for later." He snapped, earning a lethal glare from Starfire. He stared at her unflinchingly. She was the first to drop her gaze.
"Now, let me clear something up. I know good and well that the titans are secured in having someone being with them at all times, but is there on of you that needs an officer to be with them?"
Ethan shook his head before Hannah could so much as blink. "Hannah's got me."
Colt pulled Harley closer to him instinctively. "Harley's got someone."
As expected, no one spoke up for Mallory. Hell, what did she expect? Like Wyatt would want to spend God-knows how long with her until the WRK was under bars.
"I don't have anyone," Mallory said softly, flinching visibly when all eyes fell on her. "What? My parents are out of town for the moment on business and I don't think you can count Chris as a bodyguard—"
"I'll do it," Wyatt muttered. Mallory bristled. "No, you wont."
His gray eyes widened. "Why not?"
Twain groaned and stood up, walking out of his office without so much as a glance form the other teenagers. Why were teens so freaking hormonal?
"We wouldn't want you to sink so low as to stay with me." She snapped sarcastically. Harley blinked and slowly, with Colt's help, stepped out into the hallway, followed by the rest of them. Even Christian had left, not even attempting to get involved in something so adult-like.
The bustling office paused to watch the crowd of teenagers curiously before returning to their paperwork or answering phones. Knowing full and well that they would be out here for a while, Ethan and Colt went to fetch chairs for Hannah and Harley so they could sit down. The rest of the teens sunk down onto the floor, and tried to mute out the heated conversation that was coming from Twain's office. Christian, for a change, left Starfire to go to Hannah, who had welcomed the little boy with a soft, pretty smile.
"Wyatt, I don't want you around me."
"Well, it's not like I'm fond of being around you."
"Yeah, you made that quiet clear when you said that I was nothing more than a toy, and not a very good one at that." Mallory pushed down the pain her own comment brought, and sat down. She flinched when the movement jarred her leg, but she was too livid to care.
He lifted a long finger and pointed it at her. "I only said that because—oh, hell, never mind."
She snarled at him. "Detective Twain said he would get me an officer to keep watch over me—"
"And I told you I would do it."
"Yeah, you said it like you had to, but didn't want to."
"Well…"
"See? You would brood about in the stupid hospital room and bring me down because you don't want to be anywhere near me. It hurt bad enough when you told me you didn't want me, and seeing it for years wasn't exactly easy, but now I am somewhat immune to your hatred towards me. Not completely, though, and if you stayed with me, I would hurt all the more."
He let out a sigh and crouched in front of her. She blinked, then turned her head away from him. "Mal, I don't hate you at all. In fact, what I feel for you is far from hate."
"What do you feel for me?" She asked , her voice deep with emotion. "Pity? I should have known the fist time you kissed me that you felt sorry for me."
"Damnit, Mal, I don't feel pity for you."
"Oh, yeah, all you feel is…well, I don't know what you feel, but that's far from the point here. You don't want to be with me, even if it is to keep me from being killed, and that fine with me. I've managed life without you for the past two years, and I'll continue to do it now."
"Jesus, Mal," Wyatt groaned, leaning his forehead against her good knee. She didn't pull away, yet he could tell the way she stiffened. "I do want to be the one that protects you—"
"Don't lie to me again, Wyatt. I'll only hate you more." He pulled away quickly after that and moved across the room to lean against the wall and stare out at the howling storm.
"Don't act so surprised, Wyatt. You did everything in your power to make me hate you, even if you didn't mean to."
"I did mean to," he said softly.
"Oh, and what the hell does that mean? You wanted me to hate you? Well, guess what, it didn't work." His surprised eyes snapped to hers, and they were so heavy with emotion, Mallory thought she was imagining things. Did he actually look pleased?
"Unfortunately, I did try to hate you, and almost succeeded, believe me, but there is no way I can hate Christian's father, even if you are a low life."
"But I didn't want any part of his life! How can you not hate me?"
"Hell if I know," she muttered. "I wish I did, because maybe I wouldn't hurt so much. But that is so not the point here."
"Mallory, I never meant to hurt you."
She stared at him dully for so long, he blushed, but then she hooted with a bitter laugh. "Yeah, sure. You were only pushing me away to keep from really hurting me." She didn't notice the way his eyes clouded, as if she had hit the truth, but continued. "Wyatt, you could never hurt me more than what you did. Maybe, if it had only been me you rejected, I could have gotten over you, but you rejected my son. You wanted me to get a goddamn abortion, Wyatt. So, if you really were trying to protect me from something, which I highly doubt, you didn't. You hurt me more than anyone ever could."
She looked away from him, running a hand along her pink cast. "Lets just forget this, okay? I'll have someone to protect me or whatever, and you can go home—"
"I'm not going home, Mal. I'm going to stay with out no matter how you throw a fit."
"Don't do this, Wyatt. Please."
His eyebrows drew together. "Do what?"
"Staying with me would make it seem like you care, and right now, I can't take that. I realize now that I can't keep Christian with me because I can't protect him, so now, without him, I'm so weak it's not even funny. I can't protect myself from you when he's not around. If you stayed, I'd end up loving you more than I already do."
Quietly, Wyatt sat beside her. "Mallory…I want to stay with you."
"Why," she cried, not being able to hold back the flood of tears. Great, just what she needed. Tears. "Why are you doing this? You don't care about me, or Christian—"
"Damnit, Mallory, I love you, that's why I want to stay with you."
She jerked back, her eyes wide, lips parted in shock. "Wha—what?"
"I pushed you away because I was afraid I would turn out like him, and I couldn't put you, or Christian through that." He ran his shaking hands through his unruly hair. Turing away from her, he walked back to the window. Well, damnit, he had already said too much, so it was time he told her everything. It would change nothing, but maybe now she would understand why had had pushed her out of his life.
"My dad was a alcoholic. I mean, a serious drunk. He had always been a drunk, even when he was thirteen. He drank with his father." Wyatt let out a breath as unwanted memories resurfaced. "My father's family was cruel, heartless people. Well, the men, anyhow. They drank, they gambled, the whored, and they beat their wives. I mean, seriously beat them. It didn't matter if they were drunk or not. Sad thing was, their rage didn't come until after they had a kid, or married. Then, well, lets just say that if their wives weren't killed to death, they committed suicide."
His eyes stared out dully into the rain, fist clenched in his pockets. "My mother tried to divorce him. Almost managed to, but he used me to keep her with him. He would lock me up in the cellar for weeks at a time, with nothing more than stale bread and one glass of water. He won't tell my mother where he kept me, and threatened that if she left, he would leave me there without food and water. He kept telling her that it would be her fault if I died down there. So, because of me, she never left.
"I remember I was…six, when most of it started. Well, when I realized what was going on, anyhow. My mother used to tell me to go to a friends house every night, and at first I thought that she didn't want me. I was so mad at her for so long. But I didn't know she was protecting me…from him." Wyatt didn't even realize that tears had made an appearance until he felt the salt hit the corner of his mouth. He wiped it off with the back of his hand.
"I had gone over to a friends house one night, and I had been so livid because she had made me leave again. I had told her I hated her before I left. God, she had looked so hurt, so lost, that by the time I made it to the guys house, I couldn't take the guilt. I dropped my things, and ran home. I was barely to the porch when I heard it. Skin against skin. It was so loud, like a clap of thunder. I remember running in there, but they hadn't noticed me. They were in the kitchen. And my mother was lying there, on the floor, her face bleeding and bruised. I was so young that I didn't know what was going on until he picked her up by the collar and hit her. I don't mean open palm either. He had actually hit her with his fist. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I mean, I had never loved the bastard and I knew my mother didn't either, and I knew he was cruel, but…I never thought he would actually hit her.
"And then I charged in their like some superhero or something, thinking that I could stop him from hurting her anymore. I was a little thing as a kid. I had always been small, but I have always had an attitude. No one called me small or anything for the fear of me hitting them. Oh, God, even then I was like him. Using my fist to get what I wanted. I remember launching myself at him, and that bastard thought it was funny. He laughed, grabbed me by the collar, and literally threw me into my mother's prized china cabinet. It was one of the only things she loved in that house, and I ruined it because I wanted to seem like a hero."
"Wyatt—"
"Like a wimp, I passed out, and my mother was beat ever worse. But, after that, he never hit her…he hit me. And no matter how much she begged and pleaded with him, he would just hit me, and hit me, until I couldn't even stand up. It went on like that for years. I was constantly missing school because of my 'accidents'. He would tell everyone the 'fallen down the stars' or ran into a doorknob' story and had even said that I had fallen of my skateboard and broke a few bones. The list goes on. But one of my teachers was suspicious. He had gone by my house to drop my homework off, when he walked in on my old man beating the shit out of me. I had barley gotten over my other bruises when he started to hit me. My mother had tried to stop him, but he had thrown her off and she had hit her head against the stairs. Like always, I was fighting back, like I always did. But I just wasn't strong enough. He was stronger than I was, and he reminded me of that all the time. But my teacher had immediately called the police, but had made no appearance, so that bastard didn't know he was there. The police burst in, guns pointed at him, and he panicked. He had used me as a shield. I was…fourteen, I think. Yeah, fourteen. He threatened that if they shot, they would kill me. Problem was, I told them to shoot. I had already attempted suicide, but every time I was close to it, that bastard would stop me. He said that I deserved what I got and there was no way he would let me go the easy way. But I kept telling them to shoot, and their faces were priceless. They were so shocked, so vexed, that they actually lowered their guns.
"But they raised them again, and he panicked. He kept saying 'I'll run and you'll shoot, but you'll kill the boy too' so when he started to move, they couldn't do anything for fear that they would kill me. But my mother, God bless her, grabbed her family heirloom, a priceless vase, and slammed it over his head just to save me. It gave the police enough time to grab me and arrest him. But as he was still conscious as they arrested him. He kept screaming that I was just like him, that one day I would grow up to do exactly what he did, and I would be throw in jail like the no-good kid I was. And I believed it." Wyatt jumped when he felt a soft hand on his shoulder and looked down to see Mallory. Her eyes were filled with tears she made no move to hide. "Wyatt—"
"That's not all, Mal. When…when you came over the day I made love to you, do you remember how my hands were bruised and my house trashed?"
She nodded, her throat clogging with suppressed tears. "He had come back. He had been in prison for two years, but was let out for good behavior. He came straight to my house, though we had moved from where we used to live. He had somehow gotten it from someone, telling where we lived. I hadn't been home then because, believe it or not, I went to the library to get more info for our project. Something so unlike me, but when I got home, everything was trashed. He had shoved everything from the shelves, broke all the plates, and when I walked in, the first thing he did was try to hit me. After he had been put in jail, my mother had paid for us to get self-defense classes, so, though I didn't know it was coming, I managed to move just as his fist came flying. He hit the wood, but it didn't seem to faze him. I had managed to somehow win without too many bruises, save for the knuckles, but before he left he said 'You are just like I am. I'm so proud of you' and he left with a grin. And then you came, and I wasn't thinking logically.
"I had been attracted to you way before that stupid project, Mal. You had always seemed so damn innocent, always reading, never talking to anyone. You were just…perfect. Most of the girls I knew thought that they were Gods gift to men and I wasn't really attracted to them. I knew we had English together, and you sat right in front of me. I was always itching to say something to you, but you were just so shy, and timid, and when you did look at me, you only glared. You were so adorable. And that stupid project came up and we got paired up. I missed school because I was off skipping class and you were sick, so we were the only ones left. But I wasn't disappointed at all. In fact, I was thrilled. I had gotten your address from on of the teachers and went by your place. You were washing that monster of yours. You were so damn cute and though I was attracted to you physically, I knew that there was something more, and I was scared to death. When I got with a girl, I never had feelings for her. But then there was you. Anyway, I chased down that stupid dog and helped you out. I guess I fell in love with you there. You laughed and joked with me and I wasn't so depressed anymore. For the first time in years, I had laughed. Really actually laughed.
"And when you came over to my house to do work, and I wouldn't cooperate, you get all miffed and was about to leave. I guess I let my guard slip and asked you to stay, then I was kissing you. Things kinda went down hill from there. When you came by later, after he had been there, I was so furious at him, that I let it get in the way. So when you pulled me to the kitchen to bandaged me up, I couldn't stop myself from kissing you. I was so scared because of what that bastard had said, and then I was spilling out everything, about how much I really needed you. God, Mal, you let me take everything. You were so patient with me. It was like…you cared. After that, I thought I could handle it. For that short time, I was so damn happy with you. And then you said you were pregnant. And his words rushed into my head. You'll be just like me, little man.
"And I couldn't do it, Mallory," he said, his voice cracking. "I couldn't hurt you like he did my mother. I couldn't hurt out child like that. I couldn't become him. I couldn't be selfish and let you be open to such hurt. What if I do turn out like him? What if I had been there for Christian, kept you with me, then turned around and hurt you like that? That why I told you I didn't want him, Mal. Because I was scared that if you stayed with me, I would just end up hurting you both. I didn't know that I had hurt you so bad without even laying a hand on you. Don't you see, Mal?" He turned to her, his eyes so hurt that she let out a whimper of pain. "I am like him. I only hurt the ones I love, no matter what I do. I can't even make my mother happy."
"Oh, God, Wyatt," she whispered, everything falling into place now. Though somewhat clumsily, she turned him around and hugged him hard, leaning her cheek against his chest. "I didn't know…I thought it was because you didn't…oh Wyatt."
He sunk down in his knees and buried his face him her stomach, his body wracking with sobs. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know I was hurting you so bad. I…I just wanted to protect you. I'm so sorry."
Mallory bowed her head as she stroked his hair, hot tears spilling over her cheeks. "Wyatt…I understand now."
"I did want Christian, I really did, but I couldn't risk hurting him. I thought it would be so much easier if you hated me."
"I could never hate you, Wyatt." She slid down until she was eye to eye with him with a little difficulty. Tears flowed freely from his pale gray eyes as she softly kissed him. "And you will never be like him. I know you wont. I don't think you're even capable of hitting someone." She raised a slim finger when he objected. "Yes, okay, so you've sucker-punched a few guys, but you would never hurt me or Christian."
"How do you know?" He asked meekly, humiliated that he was crying. He lifted a hand to swipe away the tears, but she laid a soft hand against his, preventing him from doing so. "Why don't…you try to be with me and Christian?"
He shook his head quickly. "I can't risk it."
"But I can. This is my decision, Wyatt, and I want to be with you. Beside, if you do hit me, I'll hit you right back."
He laughed softly before he became serious. "But I'm so scared, Mal. What if I'm not a good father, or—"
"Wyatt, don't think like that. You'll be a great father. But…just give it a chance. Please. Christian needs a father. He needs you. Please don't sell yourself short because of something that bastard said. Just try it. You don't even have to be with me. Just get to know Christian. That's all I ask."
"Are you sure, Mal? You could be endangering your child—" Whack. Mallory smacked the side of his head so hard, he saw stars.
"I would never endanger my child, our child, you Nimrod."
"But—"
"No buts. Either you want to be with him or you don't."
"I want to be with both of you but—"
"Didn't I say no buts? This will be your only chance to have us back, Wyatt. Take it or leave it." Gently, she wiped at his tears.
"I do want to be with you, Mal. More than anything…"
"Why do I feel a 'but' coming on?"
"Mal…this is just so…I never thought I'd tell you why I pushed you away and—"
"Lets make this simple, since you seem so hell-bent on making this complicated. Either you want us, or you don't."
"I—"
"Yes, I know you do, but if you wan t it bad enough, you'll take it now. I don't want Christian growing up without a father, but if you don't step up now, I'll have to find someone that can help fill the void of emptiness in him…and me…I don't want to seem cruel, but, God, Wyatt, I've been alone for so long." She took a deep breath and swiped at her own tears. "So…the choice is yours, Wyatt."
He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her mouth to his. Softly, he said, "Alright. It's high time I become a real father to Christian. And…a real lover to you. But, Mal, if things go the right way, I will want to marry you. I hope you know that."
Her eyes widened, them watered again. "I…but…really? What about all the other girls and your reputation?"
He sighed and leaned his forehead against hers. "You're the only want I want, Mal. You have been for years. And I could care less about my reputation. I just…want to be with you and Christian."
She laughed and threw her arms around his neck. "I can't believe this is happening. I always thought that you didn't care." His arms wrapped around her tightly. "But now you know why I pushed you away. You do forgive me, don't you?"
She turned her head and kissed him tenderly, her lips curved. "I wouldn't want you near my kid if I didn't forgive you."
He smiled. "So, can I protect you now and stay with you?"
"Well…alright. If you want." She smiled again and pulled herself up, with a bit of trouble thanks to her leg.
He stood up as well, a blushing staining his cheeks as he rubbed at his red eyes. "God, I can't believe I cried like that. I fell like a wimp now."
She slapped his stomach with affection. "You're not a wimp. Now, er, I guess we go outside."
Wyatt's eyes widened as he realized that the entire office had probably heard his blubbering. "Oh. Hell." She laced her with his. "Come on, Wyatt. It won't be too bad."
"The hell it won't," he muttered under his breath. She grinned, reaching for her dreaded crutches. "They said I'll be released from the hospital soon."
"Really?"
"Yeah," she said, adjusting her crutches under her arms. "So, if you're sure you want to stay with me, we'll have to go to your house or mine."
"Mine." He said quickly, holding his shoulders back as they opened the door. His face heated when everyone stumbled back from the door and crashed onto the floor. In spite of his embarrassment, he grinned. "How subtle."
Eight bright-faced teens glanced up at him. "Er, uh, we were, er, uh—" Colt trailed off and plucked something off the floor, finding the tiny object quite fascinating. Christian was having a laughing attack at the moment, and was not helping matters any.
"We were actually, uh…Robin, why don't you finished," Beast Boy said, earning a glare from his teammate.
"No, actually, you were doing just fine yourself. Do explain."
Beast boy faced heated considerably. Thankfully, Twain interrupted, stepping carefully over each teen that was sprawled out in the floor. "If your little emotional outburst is through, lets get down to business."
Scrambling up, some needing more help than other, they followed Twain in. When all had settled down, Twain sat on the edge of his desk. "Alright, now that we've gotten some arrangements done, Ortega, Waylin, and I decided it would be best if you went to the school dance."
"School dance? You mean the Winter Formal that coming up this month?" Hannah asked.
"Yes."
"But…why?" Beast Boy glanced at his teammates. "Don't we need to…I dunno, try and find this guy?"
"I don't know if you noticed, but he has his eyes on your five girls here. We don't need to find him. He'll come straight to them."
Silence settled over everyone before Robin asked, "So, in other words, their bait once again."
Twain sighed and rubbed the migrate pounding at his temple. "No, actually, that's not the case. What I figure is that he won't attack any more girls, because he wants you five. So, to make it seem like there is nothing wrong, we thought that it would be smart to have you do something together, and this dance is perfect. So…no more walking the streets for you, titans."
"Thank God," Raven muttered.
Twain gave her a dull look. "So, for the time being, you'll act like normal teens, those of you who already haven't been doing just that. So, for this dance, which is on the 20th, Marty and Darcy will fix each on of you up. Yes, every one of you. For those of you who have no idea who Darcy and Marty are, they are clothes and make-up…adjusters." He raised an eyebrow at his own comment, but shook his head. "Since we only have seven days until the dance, you will be receiving visitors from Darcy and Marty. They will measure you, and do whatever they do, and will come once again on the 20th. Now, I've been informed that you, Judson, are scheduled for release tomorrow."
"So soon? Wow." Mallory cut a glance at Wyatt, who gave her a lopsided grin. God, she so loved that man.
"Yes, well, we need to know exactly where you will be staying. You, Hannah, on the other hand, will still be at the hospital come the twentieth. You've still got a few surgeries to go through."
"Great," Hannah muttered, glancing down at her casts with a scowl.
"That reminds me, Hannah. I was informed of a few…scars, that interest me." Her eyes snapped up to Twains. "Excuse me?"
"I receive a call a few days ago from one of your doctors. They say you have suspicious whip markings on your back. Did the White Rose Killer do that?" He leaned forward and cut a glance at Ethan, who visibly blanched.
"I, er, uh—"
"Miss Carson, this is not a hard question to answer. Did he or didn't he?"
"No, he didn't."
"Then who did?"
She said nothing, just stared at her fingers. "Miss Carson?"
She still kept quiet. "I can do nothing for you if you don't answer me—"
"It was the mayor." All eyes snapped to Ethan, who was staring at the toes of his shoes. "He was the one who did it."
Taken aback, Twain started at the young teen. "That mayor?" He glanced at Hannah. "The mayor beat you?
"I, uh…yes. Countless times." Hannah tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear.
"And you didn't come to us because…?"
"No one believed me. I told the counselor at my school, but she said that I was only looking for attention. Why would anyone believe me when it is the mayors word against mine? Hell, everyone is scared to death of the walrus."
"Is there any evidence that proves that he beat you? A witness maybe?"
Without thinking, Hannah looked directly at Ethan. "Ah, so, Mr. Matthews, you witnessed everything."
"Yeah," he muttered, "and so did the entire house. He wasn't too subtle about it. But he threatened them that if they told, well, the threats ranged from what each person feared."
"Alright, I'll get on that later. But for now, just go home and act like everything's hunky-dory. Alright?"
"Fine," came the muttered response. "Good. You can go now." As they piled out, Twain rubbed his head before remembering about Mallory. "Judson!" Mallory walked back in. "Yeah."
He tapped at the piece of paper he had laid out with a long, tan finger. "Write down you address and phone number at the place you'll be staying." She did so and then walked out.
Twain groaned leaned his head against the desk. God, he couldn't wait until the WRK was behind bars.
"Hey, Ro—er, ah, Starfire," Mallory called out, leaning against Wyatt's car.
"Yes?" The redhead turned back to Mallory, Christian in her arms.
"I, ah, hate to asks this but…do you think you can keep Christian for awhile until the WRK is captured? I mean, now that he's after us, I would feel safer if he was with you. I can't protect him like you can, and I know that this is asking a lot and I'll pay you for your trouble—"
"I would love to keep him until the killer is behind the bars."
"Are you sure? I mean—"
"It is an honor, Mallory." With a grin, Starfire sat Christian down so he could run to his mother.
Scooping her son into her arms, Mallory rained kisses along his face. Christian giggled and buried his head in his mother's shoulder, taking in her familiar scent.
"I'm gunna miss you, mommy."
"I'm going to miss you too, baby. But after all this is over, I want you to get know your dad better, okay?"
Christian glanced up and stared at Wyatt. "But I thought he didn't want me."
"Oh, he does, baby, and I'll explain it to you later, but now, gimme a kiss and go with Starfire. Alright?"
"Otay." With a kiss goodbye, Christian jumped out of her arms and waddled/ran to Starfire's open arms.
Mallory pushed down the hurt at seeing her baby go, but brushed back the tears and turned to Wyatt. She gave him a watery smile. "So, what do we do now?"
He kissed her quickly then loaded her crutches into the back of his old black pick-up. "I thought you wanted me to get to know Christian better?"
"I do," she said, watching him as he walked to the drivers side. "But I want us to catch up a little." He did a double-take at the look that crossed her face, and had to laugh. "You're not as innocent as you appear, huh?"
She grinned. "You have no idea."
I had such a serious writers black for a while, so that's one reason why this took so long, but, well, I thought it was high time you peeps know about Wyatt and all that stuff. See, he's not such a bad guy. Well, anyways, until next time!
