Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, it all belongs to Sarah!

A.N.: So I know that the deal was I wouldn't write about the kids as much, but I had this chapter banked and I feel bad for the like four month break I took accidentally. If you want me to update more, the best way is to review or shoot me a pm, but again I am working on a novella, so be patient with me. I'll try to update when I can.

Noncooperation

I lean away from the mirror, looking back at my reflection. I look like the perfect business woman, I would definitely want to buy some of my paintings. I swallow and wipe away the smudge of eyeliner under my left eye. I fluff my hair and straighten my blazer one more time before walking out of the bathroom and into the kitchen.

I go straight to the coffee and begin to pour myself a cup. Rhys whistles from somewhere behind me and I jump a mile high. He chuckles as I turn to him, fuming.

"Why aren't you at work?" I demand of him. He shrugs.

"Don't need to go in yet."

"Have you ever considered that it might be nice to be early once in a while?"

"I have considered it, but I'd much rather be here to look at you in your fancy get-up and wish you luck on your interview."

I look down at my outfit, it is rather fancy for me. I've got a mustard-yellow skirt that looks surprisingly well, a hot pink blouse, and a blue blazer. My shoes are the least colorful thing on my body, and they're a dark navy color. I flip my head up and meet Rhys' eyes again. "It's not really an interview." I turn back to making my coffee and pull the creamer out of the fridge.

"Then what is it?"

"It's an appraisal?"

"You don't sound certain."

"I'm not."

Whatever Rhys is about to say dies on his lips as my phone starts ringing from its place in my skirt pocket. I reach in, pull it out and look at the number.

"Who is it?" Rhys questions.

I groan. "Dalton."

"Why are they calling?"

"One guess." He nods as I slide the button to answer. "Hello?"

The woman on the other line has a surprisingly cheery disposition as she tells me that yet again, my daughter has been involved in an altercation with another student. They are both fine, but the principle has decided that Mercer needs to be suspended for the rest of the week. She tells me that I need to come get her, and if there is another altercation, I will need to find a different school for her to attend.

I listen until she's done telling me all the information and I remain as polite and cordial as possible as long as we're speaking. I tell her that I will be there soon, and then hang up.

I stare at the phone in my hand. "F*ck."

"What?"

"Mercer got in another fight."

"Jesus, that's the second time this week."

"I know."

"It's Wednesday."

"I know."

He pinches the bridge of his nose. "I can't go get her. I won't have enough time to get to work after going all the way down there and back."

"It's fine, I'll go get her."

"You sure?"

"Yeah I'll get her and take her to the gallery with me."

"Try not to make it too much fun, she might think that being suspended is a good thing."

I brace my forearms on the kitchen counter and lean into it. "Do you think we should transfer her to Chapin with Vik?"

"It's worth discussing."

I nod and righten myself, grabbing my travel mug and walking towards the door. "Yeah, we can talk about it later."

As I go to walk past him, he stands up and catches me by the waist, yanking me to his chest. He places a kiss against my lips and when he pulls away I give a small smile. "I love you. Try to have a good day?"

I nod. "You too."

He kisses me again, and then lets me go. As I pass the table next to the door I grab my handbag and then exit our home. From there I take the elevator down to the street, say goodbye to our doorman, and walk out of the building. It's a good thing I already had my paintings delivered to that gallery, otherwise we'd be screwed.

Once outside the valet greets me. "Hello madam, will you be needing a cab?"

"Yes, I will." I pull out my phone again and check the time. It'll be close, but I should be able to make it.

The man helps me into my cab and I slip him a tip. He smiles at me and closes the door.

"Where to?" My driver has a thick Indian accent.

"Dalton Elementary school. 53 East 91st."

He nods, and we speed off. Well, speed is relative. We go as fast as the clogged Manhattan streets allow.

Once we arrive at the school I pay the man and tell him that he doesn't need to wait. I then walk over to the front of the building. I take a deep breath and pull the heavy glass door open. As I do, I can see my daughter sitting in the front office.

I pause to look at her as I enter the building. She's sitting in a normal sized blue chair, her feet dangling in the air, her arms resting on her legs, and her head downcast. From my position I do manage to catch that her little hands are balled into fists. I can't see her face due to her shoulder length black hair dangling in my way, but I know what expression she's got. She's got her jaw clenched so tight it makes my teeth ache and the slightest hint of tears in her eyes. She'd like everyone to think she's the toughest girl in the world. That she doesn't get upset, that she doesn't feel pain. She wants everyone to think that she's just like her daddy.

But she's not. She's a five-year-old girl. A five-year-old girl who's angry with school. She doesn't like the teachers because they want to keep her and her twin apart. Her twin who she loves more than any other human being on the planet. Her twin who can't stand up for himself and gets constantly teased because of it. Her twin who she has always defended, even though they're only five.

I take another deep breath and lurch into motion again. I walk over and pull open the door. She doesn't move. I plop down next to her and place a hand on her back. She flinches at the unexpected contact and remains tense when I don't move my hand.

"Merc." I keep my tone light, trying to sound like nothing's wrong. Her small body relaxes, and she looks up at me. Her blue-gray eyes wide.

"He pushed Park and called him a name. I had to do something." I feel a small smile creep onto my face. Protecting the innocent, just like Rhys.

"What name did he call him?" I prod gently.

"Four-eyes." She whispers the insult and I groan inwardly. This isn't a new issue. Park got those glasses when he was two, because he's blind as a bat without them.

"And what did you do to the boy who called Park the name?" She looks away from me then.

"I chased him, grabbed him, tackled him, and then gave him a good punch to his jaw and to his gut." I close my eyes.

"And remind me where you learned how to do that."

"Uncle Az taught me."

Uncle Az was a dead man.

A.N.: Hey so R&R! And, as usual A.J. I've got a question for all of you lovely readers! Okay, so first context: I kinda want to write about how Elain and Azriel got together and their lives in this AU, and I'm toying with the idea of a spin-off fanfic. So here's the question, would you want me to create another story so that those chapters are separate from this story, or would you like it if I just kind of started sticking them inside of this one every so often?