"Fawkes, what the hell is the matter with you today? You and the kid didn't get into a fight, did you? "Cause, my money will be on her."
The humor didn't fall flat so much as splatter in every direction upon making contact with the concrete. He hadn't see Alyx in a couple days other than in passing and tense would be the politest you could call the atmosphere between them. The information she'd given him more than enough to keep the anger at her withholding it simmering beneath the surface. She'd moved out of the master bedroom, citing the climb a bit too much for her leg at the moment, which, while true enough, had been nothing more than an excuse to not sleep in the same room as him while his ire still churned.
Not that she'd been sleeping near as he could tell.
And because of that she still wasn't healing as quickly as expected.
Hell, far as he could tell she wasn't healing at all.
Not that he had any details as neither Alyx nor the Keeper were telling him anything of value. Alyx was riding a desk, while he and Hobbes were off on the schlep job of the week. Darien sighed softly. Maybe talking to Bobby would help. "Not a fight. She told me about my Dad."
"Ah," Hobbes mumbled, looking awfully guilty.
"She already ratted you out," Darien informed him, which made the guilty look just deepen. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Hobbes sighed heavily. "Because I agreed with the kid. Telling you, least right after that sitch with your bro, would have done more harm than good. I talked to her a few weeks later and she said she had a plan and that you would be told, I just didn't know when."
And that hurt. He and Hobbes were partners and needed to trust each other. And if Darien couldn't trust his partner to have his back when something this big, this damn important came up then when could he? "And you couldn't tell me all on your own?"
Hobbes' head snapped around at the sneering tone Darien utterly failed, or even tried, to prevent. "Yeah, I coulda, but I trust the kid. If she has a plan, there is a reason behind it, a damn good one I'm certain, and it ain't my place to go messing with your relationship any more than I already have to."
"It's my fucking life," Darien groused, wondering when the world had decided he needed to be hand fed pablum for every little thing.
"Yeah, it is, and if you had been around at the time and not your brother you woulda been the one we turned to for answers. Instead, we waited, which really hasn't impacted you in the grand scheme of things, yet you have decided to get your knickers in a twist over it." Hobbes flipped on the turn signal and took the next right, pulling into a strip mall, which Darien was pretty certain was not where they had been heading to. Bobby threw the van into park and twisted about in his seat to face his partner directly. "I'm not saying it was right, but it was the best plan at the time and if you're mad fine, I get it. But throw your hissy fit and get over it because we have work to do."
"I've lost six months I could have had with my Dad," Darien snarled, words he hadn't yet said to Alyx, but that would be coming soon, if he could get her alone for more than five minutes.
"You've lost nothing," Hobbes snapped right back. "You didn't even know he was around till the kid told you. So cut the bullshit and the righteous indignation. Your father could have come forward any time in the last six months and chose not to, why ain't you mad at him?"
"Who says I'm not?" Darien grumbled, knowing Bobby was right and hating it. "Alyx probably chased him away."
"I doubt that. If you being a royal ass never did a few words from the kid wouldn't either."
"You fall for the 'stayed away to protect us' line too?"
"I'd say the kid would be the expert on that subject and I'm not about to argue the point with her." Hobbes rubbed the top of his head. "Fawkes, she hasn't told me any details, to protect your old man is what I understand. Shouldn't you be talking to her instead of shutting her out?"
Darien ground his teeth for a long moment. "Not gonna happen."
"Then talk to someone else," Hobbes grumbles. "I ain't got answers for you and the kid only knows what she dug up. We can't give you what you really want and your father ain't gonna come forward till he's ready."
"No shit," Darien groused, hating he'd talked himself back into the same fucking corner. Then again, maybe there was someone who would answer his questions, though he'd have to find the time to get there and it would not be happening until this job had been completed.
"Fawkes," Bobby growled in warning. "Do not use this as an excuse to push her away. You just bought a goddamned house for fuck's sake. Do you really think she did this just to upset you?"
Darien shook his head. No, she hadn't done it to upset him. She'd tried to get his father to act like one and instead he'd just maintained the party line - not giving a flying fuck about his family. Or at least not appearing to if she were right about his dad's reasons for staying away all these years. Hell, when push came to shove he had come forward, if only to speak to her, which was more than he had done in decades. "I'm not trying to push her away."
"Sure you are. You expect them to leave when everything is going good, so when she doesn't you lash out, figuring she's gonna leave anyway, might as well be on your terms and not hers." Hobbes pounded the steering wheel for emphasis. "She ain't leaving you, Fawkes. Not now. Not ever near as I can tell. Which might just prove she's crazier than you when red-eye." His harsh tone softened. "She loves you, give her a chance to prove it."
He hated when others could see his motives before he did. Usually it was Alyx who did that, and damn it, she probably had, which is why she had given him his space. Out of sight, out of mind, indeed. And because she had said nothing directly, Hobbes had been forced to smack his partner upside the head with the truth. Moving in together had been her idea; to prove to him that when she came home it would be to him and only him. She had been the one to suggest buying a house over renting an apartment. She had pushed for them to move in sooner. She wanted this, wanted to be with him no matter how much of a dick he could be.
She loved him.
And, damn it, Hobbes was right, he did still expect her to leave. And the closer they got the sooner he expected it to happen, all the evidence to the contrary. Was he still upset she hadn't told him about his dad? He didn't know anymore. Should he be? Probably not. Which meant he had no reason to be angry with Hobbes either.
So, he manned up and shoved what remained of his anger into a darkened corner of his mind intending to ignore it for the time being. He could deal with it later, after the job had been completed. "Hissy fit over," he announced.
"Good," Hobbes said with a nod, putting the van back into gear. He waved at the file on the dash. "Look that over and give me your take on it."
"Wait? You want me to actually work? That's asking a bit much don't you think?" He put the full whine into his voice, causing Hobbes to shoot him a deadly look, before he realized Darien had been faking.
"You little shit, just read it over. Should be right up your alley."
Darien grinned and did as asked, still grumbling under his breath about not being paid enough to actually work.
. . . . .
Julie Andrews, well known for playing a nanny that brings families together, had this to say about her own, "My sense of the family history is somewhat sketchy, because my mother kept a great deal to herself."
Now, my mom died when I was fairly young, so what I know about my family is from eavesdropping on adult conversations. That's how I found out my dad was a thief.
Or so they thought.
Turns out anything I thought I knew had little or no relation with the truth.
.
He had no idea what kind of reception he would receive when he showed up on his grandmother's doorstep, so he'd come bearing gifts along with the questions. He also had an ancient photo album that had been in that one trunk they'd brought back from Cold Springs, dozens upon dozens pictures that Darien hadn't known existed. Probably a good thing given the way he'd shredded all he had found after his mom died. The angry phase of grieving hitting him especially hard. That had been the start of his acting out and it had never really ended truth be told, just gotten more focused. He'd been a horrible child to raise, he was certain, for Celia and Peter. Not the golden child that Kevin had been.
He'd hadn't seen his Grams in… two decades give or take a year or three. Celia and Peter had tried to keep in contact, but the physical distance between them made it difficult at best and downright impossible at worst, especially given all the adults involved not been young by any stretch of the imagination. He knew she was still alive, but that was about it. She might not even recognize him, and not because her mind had started to deteriorate as had happened with Celia. He had changed a lot since his last visit here; no longer the dour little boy who rarely felt anything other than anger and sadness, lashing out at any and everyone if given even the slightest opening. His pain visible on his face and in every action. His only joy coming from doing the craziest of things that got his adrenaline pumping and caused those witnessing his stunts to think he had a death wish; when in truth all he wanted was to feel something beyond anger and loneliness.
Little wonder he became a bit of an adrenaline junky. Even less wonder why Liz had chosen him for a protege. He must have seemed to be so naive and easy to manipulate.
After long minutes sitting in his car where he seriously debated turning about and just leaving he turned off the engine and climbed out with more than a touch of trepidation, only to be greeted with a sprightly, "Good morning, Darien," when no more than a few feet from the steps leading up to the porch.
"Hey, Grams," he replied ducking his head, impressed that she had recognized him after so many years. He barely recognized her, his memory of her visage being forced to compete with the woman in front of him. When had she gotten so old?
She sighed heavily and set down her coffee cup. "Haven't I told you before to call me Madeline? Don't need the whole world knowing I'm old enough to have grandkids."
Darien managed a strained smile. This had not been what he'd expected at all. "Yes, ma'am," he replied, holding out the package of coffee to her. The one thing he remembered about her was her caffeine addiction. She drank coffee all day every day and probably would until the day she died. He didn't know if she owned a grinder, so had bought one of those as well.
She snorted. "You didn't have to bribe me."
He shrugged. "You don't know why I'm here yet."
She cocked her head, narrowing her eyes as she gazed up at him. "True enough." She set her coffee cup down on the table that just might be older than her. "So, why are you here?"
"How about I make us some of that coffee first?" he suggested, not quite certain how to handle her bluntness.
"I have a cup…. Unless you need it, of course. Maybe a shot of whiskey to get your courage up?"
Sadly, that sounded like a fine idea. "Caffeine, yes. Whiskey… maybe later. I want… need to talk about Dad."
"After all these years…" She shook her head. "I suppose it's as good a time as any." She pushed herself upright. "Well, come on then. Let's make that coffee and you can ask your questions."
. . .
"So, why now?" Grams asked as she settled back into the cushions of the sofa, cup of fresh coffee in her hand. No point in making it for one, and maybe it would ease the tension he felt between them. He had some hard questions to ask and some even harder truths to tell.
The place hadn't changed much from the way he remembered it. Everything looked smaller, of course, most especially her, and a bit more worn, but it was clear the place had not fallen apart as she got older and less able to move as freely. Watching her walk was painful, yet she carried herself like a lady, shoulders up and back straight, standing proud and tall, just as he remembered.
"I…" There would be no simple way to answer that, he'd had years to come visit and find out what he could about his father and he hadn't bothered, just assuming the little he'd been told or overheard over the years to be the truth and nothing but. He sighed softly, running one hand through his hair in a vain effort to ease his personal discomfort. "Let's just say the subject has come up recently. Was he a thief?"
She shook her head vehemently. "No. I don't care what they said, there is no way Mason Fawkes was a thief."
He had to be impressed by her faith in her son, regardless of what proof may exist. "I've seen his police record."
"So have I, doesn't mean I have to believe its real," she argued,the certainty in her mien a living thing.
"You ever ask him?" Blunt, perhaps, but Grams had never been big on the runaround.
She shook her head. "No. I haven't seen him since your mother threw him out. He didn't say goodbye to me either."
That she didn't sneer his mother's name impressed the hell of of him. That she'd never seen her son again, made him feel sorry for her. He'd lost his dad, whom he'd known only a few short years, she'd lost a the son she'd raised and watched grow into a man. "They never divorced," he said softly earning a look of surprise for an instant from his grandmother.
"Huh. He always was a stubborn fool. Not that he had much of a chance to win her back. She was gone, what? A few years later?" She shook her head. "A waste."
"Why did we go to Celia and not you?" he blurted out, as he'd wondered that a lot the last few days.
She gave him a wan smile, that twinkle in her eye lacking. "My husband, your grandfather, was already gone by then, and while I do not know what if any directions your mother had left in her will, I suspect a couple looked more appealing than a single woman, especially when her son had not been involved with the family for several years." She wagged a finger at him. "I suspect you would have turned out very differently if I'd been the one doing the disciplining."
Darien chuckled. "You'd be right." He had never gotten away with anything when here visiting, no reason he would have if she had raised him. "What if… what if I discovered Dad wasn't a thief?"
One eyebrow rose on her forehead. "Then what was he?"
Darien shook his head, not about to blurt out the truth he had learned so very recently. "I have learned that after the military he went to work for the government… as a spy." Close enough. He wasn't about to tell her that her son had become a professional killer, even if it was for the home team. No, dear old dad could drop that bomb in her lap himself.
She sat there in silence for long minutes, sipping at her coffee while she processed what Darien had told her. Hell, he still had trouble believing it even after seeing the evidence with his own eyes. "Then why does he have a record? Why a thief?"
"I have no idea why they chose jail time as his cover, maybe… maybe they wanted to get him away from his family. I've been given the impression that family and the spy life do not mix, and he clearly never told mom since until just a few months ago no one knew the truth."
"Months? You've known for months and are just telling me now?"
In that instant Darien understood why both Alyx and Hobbes had gotten irritated with him when he'd had the exact same gut reaction. He hadn't known all the facts behind the decision and had still assumed the worst. "No, I found out a week ago. This is the first chance I've had to get up here." He ducked his head. "To be honest I wasn't sure if you were still alive." He gave her a wan smile. "Sorry."
"No need to be. You were a child and had to do as your elders wished. Though you clearly chose to take after your father no matter how angry you were with him."
Darien sighed heavily. "Followed in his footsteps twice over as it turns out." He rubbed the back of his head, certain a headache would be making an appearance soon. "Not only am I a thief, but I work for the government now. And the irony is not lost on me."
"Kevin worked for the government as well, didn't he?"
Darien nodded. "Research though, not as a spy. He… He's the reason I ended up working for the Agency." He rubbed the back of his head. "Don't get me wrong, he probably… no, he did save my life by dragging me into this, but it wasn't anything I had ever wanted. Weird that it turns out I'm damn good at it."
"Are you happy?" Madeline asked, surprising him with the question.
"Yes, I suppose I am," he answered, knowing it was the truth. No, things weren't perfect, weren't how he expected his life to be, but what he had he would give up for nothing.
"Good enough," she told him, "That's what matters most in the end." She patted the cushion next to her. "You brought that photo album for a reason, let's go through it and I'll tell you about your father."
He nodded, getting up to grab the album. She'd pulled out a few of her own as well. He suspected he was about to get a crash course on his family and for the first time he was actually looking forward to it.
. . . . .
"Just when I think I've learned the way to live, life changes." Hugh Prather, author of many a book on how to live one's life better, gave us that cheerful ditty, and it seemed to impact me all too often. It seemed every time my life settled into some vague form of normalcy Murphy would step in and kick me in the ass.
So why the hell should I have been surprised when it happened again?
.
"Alyx, you home?" He had no clue if she was or not, but had no intention of going to work unless necessary. He'd taken a personal day to drive up to see Madeline and blown pretty much all of it, and since Hobbes hadn't called with a situation that needed him had simply gone home figuring the best time to make amends with Alyx would be sooner rather than later.
Even with the furniture from Cold Springs the place echoed, feeling empty still, but neither of them wanted to simply fill the space with any old thing, so they left rooms barren for the time being, waiting for inspiration to come along. They had time, and the money to buy what they liked when they liked. No need to rush it. He had hoped she would be home resting, but after checking the downstairs bedroom she'd been using and her geek-cave, he headed for the pool area, the only other place she might be since he did not smell any food cooking.
"Alyx?" he called out as he opened the french doors and stepped outside, pausing for a moment to once again admire the view they had gotten along with the house.
"I believe she is still at the Agency," a strange voice said from the shadows off to Darien's left.
Once upon a time Darien would have froze, possibly literally, the surge of adrenaline causing the Quicksilver to come whether he wanted it to or not, but he'd learned to control it better than even Kevin could have expected, overriding his body's fight or flight reaction to a degree. He reacted by taking a defensive posture and shifting, intending to get to the wet bar as efficiently as possible and the gun he knew Alyx had stashed there.
Hell, she'd stashed them all over the house, along with a variety of other weapons should anything untoward occur. Your average thief would never get on the property thanks to the security system she had set up, so whomever had made it to the house, the secure pool area no less, had to be anything but average.
"If I wanted you dead you would be," the stranger stated, stepping out of the deep shadows and into the late afternoon sunshine.
Darien didn't change his course one whit, his hand on the gun, though not out in view before actually focusing on the intruder. Eyes on the unexpected guest he responded without conscious thought. "Damn it, Dad, you trying to get shot?"
Mason shrugged. "Granted the invite was tentative at best, but I doubt I could have gotten this far if she didn't want me to."
This time Darien did freeze in place as realization struck with the force of a lightning bolt, the adrenaline rush one he could in no way control and didn't even bother to try, the Quicksilver coating him and turning his vision grayscale shockingly quickly. He kept enough sense to hold onto the gun, and to make it disappear as well. Just because dear ol' Dad had made a surprise appearance didn't mean he'd come in peace. The man had been trained to kill after all.
"Or you could just be that good," Darien argued, stepping sideways as he spoke, forcing his father to track him by sound only.
Mason chuckled softly. "Oh, I am that good, but your girl is better." He leaned against one of the columns and took off the baseball cap he wore. "I take it she told you."
"Yeah, about a week ago." Pretty certain there was no real danger he tucked the gun into the back of his pants and convinced the Quicksilver to fall away. He remained wary, not trusting… Not trusting, period. The man had had six months to come forward and waited until a week after the deadline had come and gone. Not likely he'd simply forgotten the date. No, he had never planned on coming forward, which begged the question exactly why he was here now, and quite literally on Darien's doorstep. A doorstep that hadn't even been on the horizon when Dad had last been around. "She doesn't bluff."
"No, I don't imagine she does."
"So, since you never planned on telling me, why are you here?"
"I need your help," Mason stated, tone so bland you'd think they were discussing the rarely changing Southern California weather.
Darien felt like he needed a stiff drink and decided what the hell. He walked back over to the bar, chose a bottle at random, opened it and poured some into a glass. After downing a fair portion he waved the glass at his father. "You need help? You walked out on us. You left us with nothing. You couldn't even be bothered to come back when mom died and now… now you want my help?"
"Yes, I do. And it should mean something that I came to you first."
"Yeah, maybe it should, but it also kinda smacks of desperation. Who else can you turn to that won't try to drag you right back into the biz?"
"Christ, when did you get so cynical?" Mason groused, setting his hat down on the bar and making it clear he wasn't going anywhere in the near future. He waved at the glass in Darien's hand. "Got one of those for me?"
For an instant Darien wanted to say no, to tell his old man to go to hell, instead he nodded. Hadn't he just spent the afternoon trying to learn more about the man, the virtual stranger that his father was? Be stupid to send him away now that he had made himself known. Of course, it didn't mean he'd be willing to answer any of the thousands of questions Darien had, but it was a start that he was here. He pulled out another glass, poured a generous amount of the - he glanced at the label on the bottle - scotch as it turned out into the tumbler then pushed it to the edge of the bar.
His dad took up position across from him, picked up the glass, swirling about the deep amber liquid before tossing it back. "Damn. Come up in the world haven't you?"
"Why would you say that?" Darien asked as he poured more for both of them. At the very least he was going to require the lubrication to get through this. Though he would need to take care with how much as that anger simmered just below the surface and letting it out would not get him the answers he wanted.
"Prison, to a tiny studio, to," Mason tipped his head towards the house, "here."
Darien's eyes narrowed. "So, you have been paying attention… sort of." Alyx had told him that his father had been following his life, watching from a distance, but she'd gone into no details about how much the man might actually know.
"I'm certain Miss Silver explained my reason for keeping my distance."
"Yep, she did, which makes your sudden need for assistance a touch mystifying."
His dad blinked, then laughed softly. "How have you changed so much in the last few years?"
Darien shrugged. "Not as much as you might think." True enough. He was still a thief, had added a whole new set of skills to his repertoire, still tried to keep his toes wet even with the tag of narc hanging over him. He'd pulled just enough off-hours jobs to convince the locals that he was not a cop, least not when it concerned thieving.
"More than you realize," his father countered with.
"Like you would know," Darien sneered in response. He probably should be giving the man the benefit of the doubt, but couldn't seem to. It might just be a case far too little way too late. He rubbed the back of his neck. "What is so important you decided to show yourself now?"
"First, you might want to tell your girl to not shoot me." The glass Mason had raised had stopped halfway to his mouth, and he stared past Darien.
Darien turned about to see Alyx standing at the top of the porch stairs that led down to the pool area, gun drawn and aimed at his dad's head. "Baby, it's okay." He stepped to the side so that she could fully see who their… guest was.
She lowered the weapon, slightly. "Damn it, D. Did you forget I rigged panic buttons to all the hidden weapons?"
Darien felt sheepish, as he had indeed forgotten that fun fact. "Well, good thing the system contacts you and not the cops, huh?"
"Miss Silver, my apologies. I probably should have taken a more direct approach in contacting the two of you, but I did not want to lead certain parties to this location. I should have known you'd be prepared for unwanted guests and that you'd make certain my son was as well." He finished the drink and set the glass down on the bar. "You should sit, your leg is bleeding."
She sighed heavily and then tucked the gun into the shoulder holster she wore. "Fuck. Claire is going to read me the riot act… again."
Darien glared at his father for a second, the look saying in no uncertain terms that he best not move an inch,then went to Alyx, scooped her up in his arms and carried her back to the bar. Once settled on a chair with her bad leg propped up on another, he poured her a double and encouraged her to drink it. He could feel how wired she was thinking he'd been in serious trouble and rushing to his rescue.
"So, you finally decided to come out of the shadows," Alyx said once she'd downed drink number one. Darien immediately poured her another, certain she needed both the lubrication and the numbing effects the alcohol would eventually bring. Her phone trilled just then. "Crap. Need to let Bobby know everything is fine," she explained as she typed away on the tiny keyboard. " 'Fraid I went flying out of the Agency like a bat out of hell."
Once Bobby had been assured the coast was clear Darien said, "He claims he needs my help."
Alyx cocked her head to the side as she eyed Mason. "Who? 'Cause I made every effort to get you clear… unless you want back in, of course."
Mason chuckled softly. "It's not the USSA, you definitely scared them off, but there are others… And it's not necessarily for my main talent that they want me."
"But what else could they want you for?" Darien asked, pouring more scotch for each of them. He should probably think about making some sort of meal, or at least two of them were going to be utterly useless in the near future. He assumed his father's tolerance for alcohol was that of a mere mortal unlike Alyx who could drink both of them under the table - twice over. Easily
"Intel. Shit. I don't even want to imagine the secrets he… you know. How you got to some of your targets, your covers, your contacts; decades of information that could still be of serious value."
Mason nodded. "Exactly. And while I'm damn good at falling off the grid, they are apparently better. I've managed to keep ahead of them, but…"
"At some point they'll find the right leverage and you won't have much choice," Darien finished. "So why come here? Thought you were staying away to protect me?" He failed to prevent the sneer that entered his voice, not that he tried very hard, admittedly.
Mason's eyes narrowed, but he didn't miss a beat. "Because, as Miss Silver pointed out, you are an adult now and reasonably able to take care of yourself. Or so I thought." He set down his glass and glanced over at Alyx who shrugged.
"He didn't take the news about you too well. Much as I expected," she said in response to the obvious if unasked question. "Kinda dumped his worldview sideways."
"Not surprising," Mason stated, much to Darien's irritation. He wasn't fond of being talked about as if invisible, least not when he wasn't. "There's only so much I'll be able to tell you. Most of what I did is classified."
Darien snorted into his glass. "Tell her that." He gestured at Alyx. " 'Sides the job ain't what I'm really interested in."
"Why I left," Mason stated, to which Darien nodded in response. "It wasn't by choice, not really."
"Sure seemed that way."
"Dare," Alyx warned, her voice full of admonishment. "If you actually want answers stop being an asshole to the only person who can give them to you. You've spent your entire life trying to live up to his image, false as it was, maybe, now that you have the opportunity, you should take the time to learn who he is." She downed the rest of her drink then slid carefully off the barstool, all her weight on her right leg at first. "I'm going to get some food started." She turned to Mason. "You are staying here, no argument. It'll be the safest place for now."
He raised his hands in surrender. "Wouldn't have it any other way. Let me know if I can help with dinner."
She nodded curtly then hobbled off, looking like she shouldn't even be on her feet.
Once Alyx was out of obvious earshot Mason said, "Did she leave any marks?"
Darien wanted to be angry - at her, at him, hell at the world, but instead sighed. "Nothing she won't fix later and I gotta admit I deserved it."
Mason shook his head. "You have every right to be angry with me. I did leave, but at the time it was the only choice that made sense. I was a soldier who turned out to be good at killing people from a distance. About the only thing I've ever been good at in my life. Government asked me if I wanted to keep doing it once I finished my tour. I decided what the hell? I needed a job anyway." He sat down, sighing softly. "Met your mother while stationed out here for my training. Fell in love, got married."
"Had a couple kids." The bitterness heavy in his voice. "When did they figure out you were an idiot?"
"Now that would be an accurate description." Mason chuckled softly. "My handler at the time went ballistic when he found out. I tried to keep work and family separate…" He trailed off, not needing to state the obvious. "When the higher ups found out they refused to allow me to tell your mom the truth and came up with the whole thief cover, which crashed and burned quickly."
"But why leave us high and dry?" All Darien wanted was to understand, but nothing his father was telling him did that.
"I didn't. There's a bank account that I still funnel money to. Your mother refused to touch it."
Darien went breathlessly still for a long moment as he processed that information. His father had actually attempted to do something for them after he had vanished, and he'd never known about it. "Because she thought you stole it," Darien stated, the truth obvious based on the little he actually knew about the whole mess.
"Precisely. Though if she had found out what I had been really doing…" He sighed, shaking his head. "I never wanted to hurt you, any of you, but it seemed better to stay away. No one could convince her to touch the money, even for you kids, which I am very sorry for." He suddenly looked old, ancient, as if he had lived a hard life and knew it would not get any better in the future. "I can't go back and change any of the choices I made. I can only say that at the time they were the best ones out of all of those I had. Miss Silver stays away from her family and you don't hate her for it."
Darien should have known his dad would bring that up and, in truth he wasn't wrong, but he also wasn't really right. "Yeah, but I'm not one of her kids. She's fully aware, especially now, that they might very well hate her for doing what she could to give them normal lives. She doesn't like it, but she knows it's the best chance they have, and she's involved as much as she dares to be." He didn't feel it was his place to explain her decisions, but at the same time he knew part of his job was to support and defend her when needed. "There are extenuating circumstances as well. She and her kids are… special. She spends a fair third of her time keeping them safe even if they never will know about it."
"How deep is the black ops agency that is after her?"
Darien blinked, his father's knowledge catching him off guard. She'd mentioned that dad had done his homework on her, she just hadn't given him a hint as to how much he had learned. "Uh, very. We haven't identified them yet even though her husband worked for them."
"I take it all of her children inherited her talents?"
Holy shit. Mason Fawkes might be out of the game, but clearly still played it expertly to know Alyx was anything beyond one hell of a spy for the pissant Agency. "That is classified so deep even god isn't supposed to know about it. How the hell do you?"
"I still have connections. My forte might have been as a sniper, but that's not all I can do."
That answer didn't up Darien's confidence much, because it meant someone was talking out of school and that put Alyx and more importantly her children in danger. "Dad, this is important-"
"And needless," Alyx interrupted as she stepped back outside, arms laden with food in need of cooking. "Fire up the grill, you're burning chicken tonight."
Darien eyed his father warily then moved to relive Alyx of the tray, setting it on the tile counter next to the grill. Tonight they'd be using the gas half as he didn't want to take the time to light up the smoker. Once lit and the chicken sizzling he asked, "What do you mean needless?"
"Your father is playing you. I gave him a small taste of what I can do when we last met, he simply made some assumptions based on that data."
Darien turned to his dad who shrugged. "She's very good."
Alyx patted Darien on the shoulder. "And Dare was simply defending me. Which I do appreciate." Then she moved over to the nearby table, settling in a chair with a groan. "Guess it's a good thing I'm stuck driving a desk, huh?"
Darien wasn't quite sure how to respond to that comment. "You being hurt is never a good thing, sweets. But why good now?"
"Because it means she's here to help and not off on another loan job for the Agency," Mason answered, which, now that it had been stated aloud, was obvious and correct.
"Trust me, her still being hurt is very much not a good thing," Darien pointed out getting a wan smile from Alyx. She liked being on the sidelines no more than he did, but if it meant she was home for a while he'd take it. He adjusted the temperature and closed the lid. The chicken would require a fair thirty minutes to cook properly, which gave them time to sort out a few more things. "You got sides going?"
Alyx nodded. "Threw together a quinoa salad, and will steam some asparagus. If that works for you more manly types."
"I may be a meat and potatoes kind of man, but I've never turned down a meal," Mason answered, "especially a home cooked one. You could have thrown me out."
She shook her head. "No, we couldn't, you're family."
Darien felt his jaw clench tight enough to make his molars pop.
"D, you have a different opinion on the matter?"
Shit. He should know better, but it wasn't like she needed to do more than read his body language to be certain where his thoughts had gone.
"You don't need to answer that, son. I know I have to earn my way back into your life." Mason didn't sound upset about that, just far too matter of fact for Darien's taste.
"You planning on sticking around then? Not gonna go back into hiding once we solve this little problem of yours?" Darien sneered.
"I guess that'll depend on how we solve my little problem," Mason said, not even flinching at the clear disdain in Darien's voice. He fully expected his father to turn tail and run once he was in the clear. "I would prefer to not have to walk out of your life again, but I can't make any promises. Not now."
"Typical."
"Seriously?" Alyx growled, both men turning to her. "Are you really going to force me to play mediator?" She stood up, back stiff, irritation visible in her very posture. "Darien, how many times have I had to go underground for the job or to protect the people I care about? You do not get to take the moral high ground on that."
Darien frowned, her anger coming through loud and clear. And, damn it all, she was right. He should understand better than anyone what the job could require. They had killed her off twice in an effort to protect her, had erased as much of her former existence as they possibly could to prevent anyone from learning who she had been prior to the Agency. She spent hours checking databases and feeds to make certain that when info on her did pop up it got scrubbed as quickly as possible.
When he didn't respond she did, "So what do we deal with first, family issues or getting you off the grid?"
"Good question. I'm certain Darien would prefer I deal with family first, but-"
"But the longer we take to deal with those after you the more likely it is they'll find you, and since you came here, they would find me and Alyx. Of course, that might have been your plan all along; get them off your tail by throwing them a far sweeter prize." His father shook his head, his gaze heavy and hard with the accusation thrown at him. "So, I'm going play the odds that you came because we can help, that you wanted my help, and not because you were so desperate that you felt you had nowhere else to go."
Mason turned to Alyx. "How angry will he be when I say I came for your help?"
For an instant Darien felt decidedly put upon, until it dawned on him that his dad had made the right call. He might have some skills, but nothing like Alyx, especially when it came to anything tech. Darien had learned quite a bit, but Alyx still outshone everyone, and if they had to track down who was after his dad, she was the best choice. "Well, it would be her or the NSA, and I think she's better."
"Plus, the NSA would probably love to get their hands on you," Alyx added, obviously hoping to lighten the mood.
"And not let go," Mason confirmed. "Darien, the two of you are a package deal, I figured that out the last time I was here. She never gave up on you and there is no way I would even try to separate you. I suspect you bring out the best in each other and your best is what we're going to need."
"I will still need a place to start," Alyx commented. "Do you have any specifics, even if just a picture of someone who has been following you?"
"I do. The advantage of cloud storage when you have to use burner phones." Mason managed a wry smile. "I may be old, but I've kept up with the times. I'll give you everything I have."
"Perfect, but after dinner. I'm hungry."
Mason chuckled. "Of course." He turned to Darien. "Thank you. I want you to know that I don't expect anything more than your help."
Darien shook his head. "Dad… I'm gonna be as asshole. It's been too long for me to just let it go, but… but I'm gonna try, okay?"
Mason nodded. "I can't ask for more. Now flip the chicken before it burns."
Darien rolled his eyes, but still moved to do so as even he could smell that it was time to check on dinner.