Politics, yay! Yes, that was sarcastic.

This chapter presupposes in two places that you've read Family Resemblance, so go read it if you haven't already.

Also, don't get excited about the jump to an M rating. It was already skating close, and the content that made me decide to take it over is not SportaRobbie. It does mean I can go back and change some language in previous chapters that I wasn't happy with.

"She didn't like me, did she?" Sportacus asked once Peta had gone.

"I don't think so," Robbie replied.

Sportacus sighed. "The war was 400 years ago. You'd think people would be over it by now."

"What about Iceland?"

"What about it? It's been semi-independent for nearly 100 years," Sportacus protested.

"So why do 90 percent of the hoops an Icelander needs to jump through to go abroad belong to the Ætherian government?"

"Because even semi-independent, they're still Ætherian subjects, and –"

"Exactly. Subjects. Not citizens."

"Well, you've got to be Fey to hold full Ætherian citizenship."

"And why is that?"

"Because Ætheria is the Fey nation. I would have thought that was obvious."

"Lethargia is a human state, and yet Stephanie and Bessie are both citizens."

"Well, they're both Quarterlings, and Bessie's legal father was human, anyway."

"And you, Sportacus Half-Elven? Do you hold full Ætherian citizenship?"

"I would, but I'm not a warrior."

"Now, why is that?"

"I don't know!" Sportacus snapped. He took a deep breath and stepped back. "I didn't come here to argue about politics."

"Then what did you come to argue about?" Robbie asked. "Or was this a booty call after running off in the middle of the night?

Sportacus stared at him unbelievingly. He picked up his backpack, tipped its contents on a bench, and stomped out.

Robbie stared at the pile of similarly shaped objects Sportacus had left, and picked one up gingerly. He'd bought him a Mars bar? And ... other things. Robbie was fairly certain the bananas weren't for him, but what else was a pre-op transman with a cismale partner going to do with a strap-on?

Milford walked into the office in the town hall to find Bessie sitting at the desk crying. He hurried over.

"Ms Busybody? Whatever is the matter?" he asked, heart aching for his beloved's pain.

"Oh, Milford!" she wailed, and latched onto him, crying into his shoulder. He rubbed her back soothingly, trying not to enjoy the feel of her curves against his body.

"They found her," Bessie added, low enough that Milford wasn't sure her words were for his ears.

"Found who?" Milford asked, almost despite himself.

Bessie pulled away and sat down again, and Milford produced a handkerchief for her, as a gentleman ought.

"Do you remember when I went to stay with my aunt for a year when I was 15?"

Milford nodded.

"I ... the reason I went away is because I was having a baby."

"Oh, said Milford, repressing the jealous urge to ask who the father had been. There'd been no-one else then, and there was no-one else now, so he obviously wasn't important.

"I gave her up for adoption. My aunt offer to support me and the baby, but I wanted to come back to Lazytown, and mom didn't want people knowing. After that she-pixie messenger showed up a few years ago from my biological father's family, I realised that my own daughter might want to know her real heritage, so I started looking for her."

"I see," said Milford.

"And ... I managed to find the agency that placed her. She didn't find a home until she was three, so she kept the name I gave her, Alexandra Elizabeth. They've promised to forward correspondence between us, so that we can get to know each other."

'That's great," said Milford, pleased for her.

"Isn't it?" Bessie asked happily. She stood again and hugged him, and he pulled her close, this time revelling in the soft press of her against him.

"Ms Busybody," he murmured contentedly into her hair.

She looked up. "You don't think any less of me, Milford?" she asked, a vulnerable expression on her face.

"15 is barely more than a child," he told her seriously. "How could I?"

"Oh, you wonderful man," Bessie declared, and kissed him.

Today was going horrendously, so far. First up, he'd been injured by Mama in front of Stephanie. Then he'd fought with Robbie. Now, he'd just remembered that compulsory notification of abuse applied to heroes. The mayor was the law in Lazytown, so he had to tell him about Mama and Pixel.

Sportacus sighed, and opened the door of the town hall.

The sight that greeted him was shocking. Bessie was on the desk, blouse open and skirt pushed up, face the picture of pleasured abandon, legs around the mayor's waist, and her hands tight on his shoulders, while his face, although hidden by her shoulder, appeared to be buried in her bosom. It was almost as bad as discovering Mama and Pixel had been, though at least in this instance Sportacus was quite sure that both participants were consenting adults, and that neither was his mother.

The mayor looked up at the sound of the door. "Sportacus!" he exclaimed, pulling back.

"What?" Bessie shrieked, turning towards the door, and giving Sportacus an unwanted eyeful of middle-aged female.

"I'll ... wait outside," he said diplomatically, and pulled the door shut again.

"Well, that was embarrassing," Bessie said, once Sportacus had gone again.

"I'm sorry," Milford mumbled.

Bessie paused in her rebuttoning. "What for, you silly man? I started it, and I was just as aware as you that the location was inappropriate and too public.

"It would be completely private, and far more appropriate if you were to, say, come to my house for 'supper' once Stephanie is in bed."

"Oh," said Milford. "Yes, Ms Busybody, of course."

"I think Milford, you'd best get used to using my given name. I'm sure it's much easier to scream."

"Yes. Yes, of course Ms... Uh, Bessie."

"Much better. See you tonight?"

Clothes now righted, Bessie left.

A few minutes later, Sportacus came back in.

"Sorry about that, Sportacus. I hope it wasn't urgent."

"No, Mayor, it wasn't urgent."

"So, what is it?"

"It is my duty as an Ætherian government commissioned hero, to inform you, Milford Meanswell, as upholder of law and order in Lazytown that yesterday I witnessed an indecent assault on a minor."

"Oh dear. What happened?"