A/N: okay, this is the REAL chapter 10...anyways, fast update, and a big one, i just got a big hit of inspiration and i know exactly where this story is going now! I didn't get a lot of reviews on the last chapter, i'm sorry to say, but thanks to those of you that did! This one's for you!

"I am so clever that sometimes I don't understand a single word of what I am saying."

-Oscar Wilde

"I know that you believe you understand what you think I said, but I'm not sure you realize that what you heard is not what I meant."

-Robert McCloskey

I DON'T OWN GoT!

Ethan

If you're already dating a girl, do you have to ask her to Prom, or is it just a given thing?

Guys aren't born just knowing this stuff, you know. We have absolutely no clue when it comes to this kind of thing.

"I think you should ask her." Isabel says. She's really the only one I can ask about this stuff. "I mean, otherwise she'll think you're just taking her for granted, which isn't good. And yet, on the other hand…if you do ask her, she might be insulted that you thought she wasn't, which is really no good either…" she muses.

I throw up my hands. "Thanks, Isabel. Thanks a lot. So much help-"

"Sorry! But it really depends…"

Girls are weird. That's it. I rest my case.

"We're not. Some of us are idiots. Just ask Rochelle to Prom." Neriah walks in wearily. She looks sad, and she's wearing sweats. Usually, you never see her without a skirt. At least something other than a t-shirt. She's still lovely, but there are black smudges under her eyes, and her hair is in a ponytail.

"You look like hell," I observe in a cheery sort of way.

"Ethan!" Isabel whacks me. "Not helping. Neriah, are you okay?"

"No, its okay, I do look bad. But what does it matter? Matt won't look at me anyways."

Ah yes, the Matt Scandal. That's what she's depressed about. Apparently there was some kind of mix-up yesterday while Rochelle and I were gone, and Neriah is now going to the dance with…Dillon.

Yeah, I know. I didn't see that one coming either.

"Well, if it's any consolation, Matt's not looking at anybody. He actually won't come out of his house." I say helpfully. Actually, it doesn't seem to help much. Neriah just moans and buries her head in her hands again. Isabel rolls her eyes, but I've carefully moved myself out of hitting range.

"Look, Neriah…" Isabel rubs the other girl's arm. "It'll be okay. You two just both had a…a misunderstanding."

"Yeah, you wanted to go to Prom…and he didn't."

Thank you for the recap, Ethan. Maybe you should stop talking now. Anyways, Neriah…you guys will make up. This just sucks now. I mean, when two immortals fight, it's gotta be big, right? And it's not like you don't have eternity to hang around him anyways. I've only known him 17 years and already I'm tired of him."

This at least brings a tiny smile to Neriah's face. "So how did Arkarian ask you?"

"He didn't. I'm not going." Isabel says calmly.

"You're not?" Neriah and I say incredulously.

"Nope. Arkarian would stick out like a sore thumb, and if he's not gonna be there, I don't want to be there."

"I keep telling her she should reconsider. I feel guilty." Arkarian comes in finally. "But you know Isabel. She's too stubborn."

And I keep telling him that if I really want to go, I'll go next year. But with all this stuff going on, I really just want a night alone with him," Isabel replies as if Arkarian wasn't standing right there.

"And we definitely can STOP with the detail now." I cut in.

"Alright!" Arkarian speaks before Isabel can get violent. "Your mission is in France, 1664. Marduke has opened a portal there, but we had some trouble deciphering it at first. Marduke seems to be trying to shield it."

"What's the target?" Neriah frowns slightly.

"Well, we think its six-year-old Lucien Bonaparte."

"Related to the Napoleon?" Isabel asks.

"The very same. Great-grandfather; he's sick in an orphanage near Champagne. If he doesn't survive, he doesn't go on to be a distinguished politician and soldier and marry Lady Marie Boileau…"

"And Napoleon is never born." Neriah finishes. "Hm. But…"

"Doesn't the Order just want to kill someone closer to his time period? His father maybe? Napoleon himself?" I pick up her thoughts.

"Who knows the way his mind works?" Arkarian shrugs. "Just be careful."

My instincts are bothering me, telling me that something's wrong with this, I can't figure out what it could be. "Really careful," I say softly.

The Tribunal isn't quite finished with the new Citadel yet, so it's up to Neriah to transport us to the 17th century. I'll be, I discover as Arkarian sprinkles the golden dust on us, Maurice Lauder, a noted physician. Isabel is my assistant, dressed in a simple dress and smock, and Neriah is an indentured servant named Estee. I'm reminded of when Isabel, Rochelle and I went to Rome, only then Rochelle was my slave. I didn't like her then.

I loved her, but I didn't like her.

No. No thinking about Rochelle. Rochelle makes me think about Prom. And THAT makes me break out in hives.

Neriah has caught this train of though and is giggling softly. "Just take us to France." I tell her, red-faced.

"Oui, Monsieur." She smiles and with a tingling feeling, we're here. "Here" is a tumbling down old house. The wood is worn, window shutters are gone, and they've boarded the spaces up. A broken sign reads 'Orphanage: Donations Welcome.'"

"Ew." Isabel says, summing up the general feelings with one two letter word. "Okay, let's go fix Lucien Bonaparte and get out of here. I don't like this place."

It's autumn here, and the dead leaves skittering around our feet just seem to make this place more eerie. I can't explain it, but my instincts are just standing on end.

A big woman answers the door. Not fat, exactly, or overly tall. Just…big. "Can I help you?" Her voice is surprisingly high and feminine.

"Yes, I'm Maurice Lauder, doctor…I heard there was sickness here?"

"Always. Come in, please Monsieur. And your women."

"Rene," I point towards Isabel, who curtsies, "and Estee. They're my assistants."

"Of course."

The house is teeming with children. Some are young, some teenagers, all scrawny and looking malnourished. "What's your funding here, Madam…?"

"Geri. What the locals give us, mainly. It's not much, since we've so many mouths to feed, but we get by."

One of the older girls, about twelve, is holding a baby, trying to feed it milk from a little self-made funnel. "The older children look after the young ones."

Suddenly there's a dull impact against my right leg, and a slight pressure as though something's clamped on. It's a child. A mass of blonde curls and huge blue eyes. A boy, I think. "Um…Hi."

"Gabe go too," he says in a crystal clear voice. One of his eyes is blackened and lip split. And ugly purple bruise spreads across one cheek.

"This is Gabe." Madam Geri touches his head gently. He flinches anyway. "He's only about two and a half years old."

"How is he all scraped up?" Neriah asks.

"Oh…well, you see, Gabe isn't really an orphan, per say. He's one of the children we have whose fathers love their ale, and their favorite target for their life woes is their children. Mothers send them to us secretly sometimes, hoping they'll have a better life. But there's naught we can do here, with so little food and power. Gabe's father has come to bring him home many a time. He's a big, powerful man, like a bear. Always his aunt sends him back like this a week after."

"What a horrible existence for a little boy." I say, looking at the poor child.

Madam Geri shrugs; he is probably one of the many I bet she sees suffering. "It is life, Monsieur. Now, you wanted to see Lucien?"

She gently unclamps Gabe from my leg; he looks at me with those big, mournful eyes. "Gabe go too?"

"No, Gabe stay and play with boat," she replies. "Let Doctor Maurice do his work…"

Neriah has gone outside to check around the house. She too seems discomfited by this place. Isabel is playing with some little girls. "Rene?"

"I'll be there in a minute, doctor." She smiles at a curly-haired angel, who shrieks as Isabel tickles her belly. I roll my eyes and go into the sick room alone.

Lucien is obviously the benefactor of Napoleon's famous nose. Poor kid.

He's hacking up a storm, coughs racking his frail body. He looks up at me warily, as if unsure that I should be trusted, but he obviously can't sit up, much less run away. "Hello Lucien," I say soothingly. "I'm here to help you." I give him a spoonful of "medicine", which he refuses to take at first. Gradually his mouth opens and the sick eyes light up as he realizes that it's basically just sugar water.

"More?" he asks hopefully.

"Sure, kiddo," I can't help but laugh at his face, and then Madam Geri and Isabel arrive.

"You've administered the medicine?" Madam Geri says. I can see a curly blonde head peeking around the corner.

"Yes. Rene, if you could make him more comfortable…Madam Geri, I'd like to look at the rest of the children while we're here…"

"Of course, Monsieur." She looks grateful for any help.

I actually feel bad that I can't really do anything.

After five minutes of me playing with the orphans, Isabel comes back in. "Maurice?"

Madam Geri has become distracted with one of the babies. "What's wrong?" I ask quietly. Isabel looks like I feel: uneasy and suddenly wary.

"Nothing's wrong. That's the problem," she whispers. "Lucien isn't being poisoned, or made sick in any way…it's completely natural."

The reality of what she's saying sinks in. If Lucien is indeed going to get better without our help, then why was the portal open?

"Doctor Maurice, sir!" Neriah's voice finally calls. "Can I see you?"

It's not really a question. "Coming, Estee!" I exchange a look with Isabel and follow Neriah's voice outside the door. She's pale and looks completely out of breath.

"Don't talk, just come."

I follow her for about a mile through the deep woods. It's eerily silent in here, as though the birds are terrified. "Neriah, what are we-"

"Shhh!" she hisses. I keep quiet and follow until all of a sudden, I bump into a wall. Or what feels like one. The problem is that there's clearly not one there. It's just air. I put my hand up and feel the resistance. "What the…"

"I know. I thought that was rather curious, and then I decided to take a closer look." Right in front of me, she changes into an eagle. A big one, with huge wingspan. It's rather unnerving.

"Neriah, I can't do that. Wait…if you can carry me, I can make myself…" and I use my powers of illusion to make my body blend in with the forest.

She lets out a squawk, which I take to mean: "Very impressive. Now come, hurry."

When we're airborne, I can see what has unnerved her so much. It's a group of things. But not just any creatures…they are the animals that Marduke has bred to destroy us. The force field seems to serve the purpose of keeping them in as well as the village folk out. Marduke obviously doesn't trust their full "obedience" yet. Maybe that's a good thing. There are about 30 of them, mixed with a few Wren who seem to be the guards. "Hell." I whisper. I know, I know, eloquent words, but there's really nothing to say. We've found Marduke's army of Wrenbeasts. They're hiding in 17th century France.

Neriah turns back abruptly, wary of being seen, even in disguise. Maybe the Wrenbeasts like eating eagles. Outside the force field she drops me on the ground and changes back into a girl. I take the illusion off of myself. "We've got to go back. Now."

Her only reply is a run towards the orphanage. I follow, and together we race inside to get Isabel. "Isabel, come on, we've got to go." Neriah says forcefully.

"What's going on?" Isabel looks confused, but abandons her doll and stands up anyways. "Ethan?"

But Neriah and I are already grabbing her and disappearing in front of the children's eyes…

I open mine and see Arkarian staring with shocked purple eyes at me. He must have seen. "I know, Arkarian…what do we do now?"

Why does he still look surprised? And why does Isabel look horrified?

My heart starts sinking down to my toes as I realize that something's holding on to my leg. I slowly look down, and see what I'm most afraid of looking up at me.

"Gabe go too."

Arkarian isn't as livid as I think he should be. We brought back a boy from France. Who is not supposed to be here. Granted, his home life sucked, but he still had a life to live…

"Arkarian, I'm sorry…" Neriah and I say at the same time. "We were so excited to get back" she says, "I wasn't even thinking about…"

"No, Neriah." He shakes his head. "The blame isn't with you."

Oh, hell. That means that it's with me.

"No, you neither Ethan." He shakes his head again with a small smile. "Fate sometimes is…funny."

"Arkarian, are you saying that Gabe is staying in the 21st century?" Isabel asks incredulously. My mind is whirling too. I didn't even know this was even possible. And now, Arkarian is acting like it's no big deal. What's going on?

"Be careful next time, but for just this one boy, it's alright." Arkarian is still smiling in wonder at the little boy, who is clutching onto me for dear life. "More will be explained after this weekend. Monday meet me back here. I have some things to work out now that we've found Marduke's army."

"What happens to Gabe?" Neriah asks.

"I'm willing to let him live here, but that's not what he needs. He needs to be around normal people."

"Dad would FLIP if I brought a kid home, especially one from the 17th century." I can say this with some assurance.

"Well, he certainly seems attached to you…" Isabel smiles. "Hey!" Her eyes light up. "Neriah…"

They have a shared thought. "Arkarian?" Neriah says. "What if…I mean, Rochelle and I have room, it's only us…what if Gabe kind of…stays with us for awhile?"

"Will Rochelle be alright with this?" Arkarian asks skeptically. He has a point. I can't even ask her to prom, much less ask her to take care of a kid that I accidentally brought to the future.

"I think she will be, as soon as we tell her the story." Neriah seems assured. "Ethan, you can convince her."

"Oh, right…dump on the boyfriend…" I mutter, but follow Neriah to her house, using my wings. Isabel stays behind to talk to Arkarian.

Neriah opens the door tentatively. "Hey, Rochelle…"

"Hey Neriah! Have you seen…" Rochelle comes out of the bedroom, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. At the sight of the boy in my arms, she stops short.

"Now, don't freak out…" I begin.

'"Just tell me he's not yours, and we're fine." She cocks an eyebrow. I hasten to assure her that Gabe is in no way related to me. I think.

Neriah takes over. "So we went to France tonight, and…well…we screwed up kind of. Arkarian says we didn't. But this is Gabe, and he's…"

"From 17th century France." Rochelle finishes. "Arkarian JUST left. He warned me. Good thing, too."

"And your answer is?" Neriah looks hesitant.

"Let me see him?" Rochelle holds out her arms and I place Gabe in them. He doesn't look afraid at this new world, just curious. "Where did he get these bruises?"

"His father gave them to him." I tell her quietly. I hate seeing the look that I knew was going to flash on her face. Even though her father doesn't have the power to terrify her anymore, she still remembers. "He was at the orphanage to escape, but his father was coming back."

Her face is considering, but it softens as she looks at Gabe, who's yawning by now. "Well, I suppose…"

"Thank you, Roh!" Neriah jumps up and down. I give her a big grin that she tries not to return, but can't help it.

"Isabel?"

She's shown up at last, ready to heal Gabe's wounds. Since he's not going back right away, Arkarian's given her permission. It takes a matter of minutes. "He's so cute…" she tickles his tummy. "Thank you, Rochelle."

"Don't thank me, thank Ethan." Rochelle says, going to the kitchen sink and filling it with warm, sudsy water to wash off the little boy's face and limbs.

"Did you ask her yet?" Isabel asks me quietly. "Prom's tomorrow."

I give her a Look. I know its tomorrow, and I know that I'm running out of time. But it's really bad timing…I mean, I just brought home a kid. She's not going to want to go with me, or even go at all.

"Well, I still think you should. Arkarian and I can watch Gabe. He'll be fine, and you'll have a great time." Isabel gives me one last piece of advice before she vanishes.

"Hey, Ethan, you want to help me?" Rochelle calls. She's sent Neriah to bed, amid many protests, saying that she's worried enough and that she can handle it.

"I'd love to." I reply. "Where's he going to sleep?"

"Mmmm." Rochelle looks around. "We don't have a crib, huh?" With a sigh, she carries the half-asleep Gabe down to her room. I follow quietly and watch as she tucks him into her bed and with a kiss, turns off the light, smiling.

"Well, I suppose…" I sing-song as she comes out of the room. She scowls.

"What?"

"That was bull. You were never going to refuse him. You love him already. Admit it…"

She tries desperately to swallow a smile, but doesn't succeed. "I suppose he's not bad…"

I start to tickle her, which always works. "Alright, alright, I love him!"

"I knew it," I say, wrapping my arms around her waist. "You're a big softy at heart."

"Are you going to tell on me?" she grins.

"Will you go to Prom with me?" I say softly. It just sort of slips out. She looks so beautiful in the soft hallway light, green eyes glowing and strands of hair falling around her face, escaping from the ponytail.

"I thought you'd never ask!" she rolls her eyes, but it's with a huge grin. "Of course." And then she kisses me and we don't talk too much anymore. At least until Gabe makes a noise from the other room.

Rochelle moans and buries her head in my chest. "For future reference, I'm blaming this all on you."

"But you love me." I call after her as I open the door to leave.

"But I love you," she agrees with a smile as she walks down to Gabe's door.

And that's really all that matters. Well, that and the number of a good florist. I wonder if immortalsdo corsages?

There it is, chapter TEN! who would have thought? The story is winding down now, only about five chapters left...what will happen at Prom? What's the deal with Gabe? Until next time...

-HaLo