To Lyger 0: Let's just say that he was not in a good head space at that moment!

To SerenaWhitman: Is it his place to tell her something like that?

To Anon2018: There is absolutely a baby boom coming! And who ever said that there weren't babies conceived in Angola? The Battle of Tarascon was a little over a month ago; the Battle of Paris was two and a half to three months ago. And I do enjoy writing the various anthologies – with the number of characters in this universe, this is a good way to actually check in on them.

Sabrina stepped back from the wall, tapping her chin and frowning, examining the framed drawing she had just hung up by the hallway entrance, plainly visible from the front door. "What do you think?" she asked Nooroo. "Too much?"

Nooroo's wings fluttered against her shoulder and he hummed. "I like it," he squeaked, nodding. "There, everyone will see it as soon as they come in!"

She nodded slowly, her lips turning up as she examined it closer. Every time she looked, a different detail caught her eye. The picture was a new one that Nath had just presented to her the evening before, showing Impératrice Pourpre and Pegasus standing hand-in-hand in the newly-restored Tarascon, surrounded by the other Heroes of Paris. In the foreground, a small tree grew out of a pawprint; in the background was a swirl of red energy surrounding a half-repaired building. Sabrina smiled. While she hadn't asked for or commissioned the drawing, she had known exactly what she wanted to do with it the moment Nath pulled it out of his folio. The shade of lavender he had used for her dress matched perfectly with the couch that Adrien had provided for the waiting room, and the greys in Pegasus' suit contrasted nicely with the shade of paint for the walls. "I hope it's encouraging for people," she agreed, sipping her coffee. She chuckled. "If I – or 'Impératrice Pourpre' – could come back from where I was, there's hope for anyone."

Nooroo patted her cheek. "I think it will be very encouraging," he assured her. He paused. "I am happy for you – happy that Max is alive and well, happy that you have your friends, happy that you are still my holder."

Sabrina's throat started to close up, and she sniffled back a tear, rubbing a finger along the Kwami's head and back. "Thank you," she choked out. "I–"

She stopped speaking as a mess of jumbled emotions appeared on the edge of her senses, somewhere in the building's stairwell. Sabrina furrowed her brows, concentrating on the specific mix of emotions. It felt… familiar, though not so much so as to recognize him immediately. The person reached the top of the stairs, walked past the door to the Myriel apartment, and paused right outside of Sabrina's counseling office, indecision and anxiety coming to the forefront of his emotions. Nooroo flitted away toward the kitchen as the person finally knocked on the door. "It's open!" Sabrina called, turning in that direction.

The door opened a crack, and Lieutenant Ramus poked his head through, looking around until he found Sabrina watching him. His eyes widened in surprise. "Um… I take it I'm in the right place?" he asked nervously.

Sabrina nodded encouragingly. "You certainly are!" she confirmed, giving him a warm smile. "I thought I recognized you…" He cocked his head in confusion, and she mentally kicked herself. Clearing her throat, she waved him inside. "Come on in, Lieutenant. I take it that my father sent you over?"

Ramus frowned, his emotions churning with annoyance. Finally he nodded, sighing heavily. "He said he'd make it an order if I didn't come voluntarily," he admitted, reluctantly stepping through the door and closing it behind him, his eyes trailing around the room. "So you're the counselor that the Prefect is sending us to? Élodie was somewhat evasive when she described her own visit."

Sabrina raised an eyebrow. "I hope you're not… afraid of counseling."

He pursed his lips, the nervousness shifting slightly. "I've only ever seen a counselor when I was required to," he admitted. "I try to avoid it as much as possible."

"Is it that scary to come and see me, Lieutenant?" Sabrina asked.

Ramus chuckled drily. "You know, I still remember meeting you back when your father was my training officer," he pointed out. "Ever since then, you've been my boss's baby girl – even if you are out of lycée now. It's not that easy to come and see a – um – counselor that you've known since she was this high!"

Sabrina smiled in amusement. "Well, I assure you that I won't hold your age against you if you won't hold mine against me!"

"Touché." He cracked a smile. "Deal."

"So… welcome to my new office!" Sabrina waved him toward the waiting room. "Can I get you anything to drink? Tea? Coffee? Water?"

He hummed doubtfully, looking toward the kitchenette. "I suppose a beer is off the table?"

She shook her head. "Unfortunately, I don't have any beer," she told him. "Do you need a beer to talk about the reason Dad sent you?"

Ramus pursed his lips. "Maybe not," he allowed, shaking his head reluctantly. "But it would definitely help." He sighed. "How about coffee then?"

Sabrina nodded, giving him an encouraging smile before leading the way into the kitchenette. "One coffee, coming up!" As she fiddled with the controls on her Keurig coffeemaker and found a mug, she glanced back at him curiously over her shoulder. "So how have things been going at the Superhero Liaison Department lately?"

He let out a breath and gave her a noncommittal shrug. "It's going fine. We haven't had any issues recently, which is good."

Setting the first cup aside, she tossed the pod out and reached for another one to make a cup for herself. As she opened the coffee pod box, however, Nooroo poked his head out of it, his eyes wide in concern, and pointed toward the faucet. Sabrina frowned and grabbed for one of the pods. Nooroo shook his head, more insistently this time, but she gave him a dirty look, pulling out another pod for herself. While it dripped, she turned around and handed Ramus his cup.

He raised an eyebrow. "A Pegasus mug?"

She shrugged. "I have the whole set," she explained. "Next time I'll give you the option! Do you have a favorite?"

He furrowed his brows in thought. "I'm not sure if it's okay for me to have a favorite," he told her. "We're supposed to work with all of the Heroes, after all."

"That's true," Sabrina acknowledged, "but you can still have one or two favorites – mine are Pegasus, Sent-Bee, and Ladybug," she added.

"Chrysaor, then," Ramus began, his brows furrowed pensively. "Him and Cat Noir, at least."

Sabrina smiled. "I've heard the stories about how much Chrysaor did while we were in Angola; I can only imagine how difficult those six weeks must have been." He hummed. "So I suppose things being relatively quiet at the SLD is a good thing, huh?"

He nodded. "No news is good news, and the like."

She hummed, sipping from her own freshly-brewed mug. "Indeed. I suppose that gives you more time to enjoy the city while on patrol, then?"

He nodded slowly. "Yeah…"

"So where is your favorite place to go in the city?" she asked. "I love going to the Trocadéro when I have the opportunity, though the Arc de Triomphe is also very nice."

He frowned. "I used to enjoy seeing the Arc de Triomphe," he finally answered, "but not anymore." His emotions took on a hint of solemnity, but just for a moment. "Sometimes I suppose it's nice to drive along the river."

She nodded. "I have some friends with a band – they rehearse along the river, and it's so much fun when I can hear them playing!" He nodded, his posture still guarded though she could sense his reluctance and nervousness. "Well," she decided, gesturing down the hallway, "as much fun as it would be to stand out here chatting, I'm sure you would like to return to work at some point, so let's head down to the counseling room and get down to business."

Ramus shrugged, following her down the hallway and into the converted bedroom. Sabrina waved toward the seats after taking one herself, and he sat down opposite her, his shoulders hunched forward. "This isn't exactly what I was expected," he observed, glancing around the room.

Sabrina smiled warmly. "I was working exclusively out of the rehab center downstairs, but this is much more comfortable for clients who don't come to me from the center," she explained. "My clients have come for a lot of different reasons – drug rehab is just a small part – but I noticed some were uncomfortable there. This is so much cozier than the more sterile environment downstairs. Marinette tries to make the rehab centers more inviting, but there's only so much she can do."

"It's nice."

She nodded. "So… what brings you in here? Other than 'orders', I mean."

He pursed his lips, his nervousness spiking. "I don't know what to tell you," he began. "I'm really fine. Work is fine; no problems there."

She arched an eyebrow. "Dad wouldn't have ordered you to come here if that were the case. Now–" she fixed him with a penetrating look "–I want you to answer me like I'm not your boss's daughter. I realize that complicates matters, but under these circumstances, I'm just your counselor."

He gave her a nervous look. "I don't know if I should–"

Sabrina held up a hand to cut him off. "Let me stop you right there," she interrupted him sharply. He started. She sighed, shaking her head ruefully. "Lieutenant," she continued gently, "there is a reason you were sent here instead of going to one of the department's official counselors. You are safe to speak freely in here. I know absolutely everything there is to know about the Superhero Liaison Department and what you do. There is nothing you can say in this room that will really surprise me. And this room is swept for listening devices on a nightly basis. So. What is going on, really?"

He frowned, a bit of the anxiety in his emotions vanishing. Finally, he let out a breath. "You aren't going to tell your father?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I may not be a licensed counselor yet, but that would be highly unethical," she pointed out. "Anything you say in this room will be kept strictly confidential. I don't tell my father anything that I hear while counseling; I don't even tell Max, and I tell him everything."

Ramus nodded slowly. "Okay…" His shoulders slumped. "It started right after the Tarasque smashed its way through Paris – I'm sure you remember that?"

She swallowed down a surge of anxiety. "How could I forget?"

"We were stuck here in Paris while so many people had fled," he continued. "We had lost several of our own, and we had hardly done any damage to the Tarasque itself. Officer Luron was hurt; Officers Moreau and Djimou were killed." He sighed heavily. "I think the last time I slept well was at least that long ago. I've been having recurring nightmares of the Tarasque, of my team getting decimated. But I couldn't take any time to think about it or process it at the time; we were so busy trying to keep the city together – just trying to survive was a struggle! First it was the search and rescue, then it was the salvage, then it was trying to contact the rest of the country… The prison break… Tarascon – I still question my sanity for going with Chrysaor! I'd hoped after that, everything might settle down for a bit, but almost immediately Mayor Bourgeois sent us to deal with that clusterfuck in Bayonne and Pamplona." He groaned in disgust. "Prefect said the Mayor offered to dispatch us to Alsace and Lorraine after that, but he put his foot down."

"It sounds exhausting," Sabrina observed.

Ramus chuckled humorlessly. "Helped keep the mind busy."

She hummed sympathetically. "But now that everything has started to slow down, you are starting to think about that first Tarasque fight a little more?"

He nodded, looking down at his hands. "If I had just been a few meters to the right, I would have been where Moreau was when he was killed."

"You wonder why you survived and he did not?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't you? Dan left behind a wife. They were going to start a family. I have no one – not like that, anyway. If either of us deserved to live, I would have thought it should have been him."

"Do you feel that your life is less meaningful because you are unmarried?" she asked, examining him closely.

"Well, my ex would say it was…" he muttered under his breath. He sighed, shaking his head. "I don't know…"

She let out a breath, nodding slowly. "It's understandable and perfectly normal to ask those questions," she told him. "Especially after such a traumatic experience. Unfortunately, there aren't any good answers I can give. Some people would chalk it up to luck or fate; others would turn to religion for an answer. For myself, I don't know if there needs to be a clear answer to that question. You survived, and that meant that you were still here to help my father and Chrysaor to keep the city together. That is a very good thing."