I thought Robert Angevin wasn't a mutant. How does he know…? Grace panicked for a moment.

Her panther spoke up in a clipped, highly British voice. "You know my methods, Watson. Apply them."

Watson? That has to be from Sherlock Holmes. Holmes wasn't psychic; he made all his deductions through keen observation. What could Angevin have observed about Erik and me?

"I could have gone upstairs for my purse, and although all three men offered me a dollar for your retainer, I chose to take his money."

"Thank you for not denying it. There was that," Angevin admitted. "but it was the look you two exchanged earlier, when I identified him. I'm a married man. I know a married look when I see it. His look said: What do you think of that?, and you replied, Pretty impressive. Let's see what else he's got. Only married people have that kind of non-verbal communication."

"But we're not married." she protested.

"Get to the church on time!" That was the panther again.

I'm doing my best with Wanda. The scarf was back on the bed this morning, and she never said a word about it. I hope that's good.

"Maybe you don't have a piece of paper saying so, but everything else is in place. The baby is none of my business. I just wanted you to know I don't miss a thing. May I ask who knows about your relationship? Of the people not currently on this campus, that is."

"A mutant woman named Mystique. She's a shape changer. She was—He broke up with her to be with me."

"Not good, but she will lack credibility. And?" The lawyer made notes.

"Another mutant, Sabertooth. He might be on his way here, he might not. I get the impression he's of below average intelligence."

"Again, a credibility issue. This is a disaster, but it may be a containable one. Any others?"

"I told a friend of mine named Eleanor something about it," And my little friends never said a word. I wonder why not? "But I didn't name names."

"Any more? What about people like the maitre d' at the your favorite restaurant? The owners of the bed-and-breakfast where you spent a weekend together? Anyone who would recognize you as having been with him, even if they didn't know your names."

"All our courtship took place in Australia. I—oh, how do I put this? This was never intended to lead anywhere. It was a brief relationship, and we deliberately didn't exchange contact information. We didn't see each other again until four days ago, and now you're saying we come across as married. I don't know why."

Angevin's eyes were sympathetic. "It does happen that way sometimes. Strangers one day, practically married the next."

"Not in my world, it doesn't!"

"If I recall correctly, Magneto is Jewish. His lawyers had to intervene to get him a diet free from all pork products. Ask him to tell you what a 'bashert' is. Now I have some other questions…."

He led her through a maze of queries and answers, until at last he put away his notepad. "That'll be enough to get me started. Now, do you have any questions?"

"Yes. What happens next?"

"Next I and my staff do a lot of investigation. We'll look into Marine StarCare's business practices, research the Mutant Registration Act until we disembowel it, things like that. I'll keep you appraised of what we find. Then I have to go to both defendants, the government and Marine StarCare, lodge your complaint, and give them a chance to settle out of court.

"That is when things will get interesting. Both of them will try to get you to settle for less than what you want. Technically they should make all such offers through me, and I should then relay them to you, but don't expect them to abide by that. They will start by offering you money and other valuable considerations will follow. Some of those considerations will be threats."

"I won't accept anything, I won't sign anything, I won't cave, and if they try to threaten me, they'll have to get through a lot of people first." Grace gave him a cool, level look.

"Excellent. Remember that. The government will also try to get you to separate the two cases, because without Marine StarCare's obvious guilt in the matter, your case against them will look weaker to a jury. Marine StarCare will try to do the opposite, because it will be less costly for them. They won't have to pay much more than your legal costs if you get the Act rescinded and the laws changed—just whatever fine the government imposes for breaking the Genetic Privacy laws."

"I won't agree to any separation."

"Good. Once they have failed to settle to your satisfaction, we file a complaint with the court and serve it on the defendants. They have to file an answer within thirty days. Then both sides exchange information. There are no 'Perry Mason' last minute surprises any more, based on withholding information from the other side. Coming up with a whammy is punishable by law."

"I understand." I hope my little friends do, too. They're being awfully quiet.

As if in answer, the stuffed owl on the bookshelf flapped its wings and said, "Don't forget to tell him the venue." It sounded very young and feminine.

"Oh. For various reasons, I want to file the complaint in New York City's federal court."

"I was going to ask you that. Thank you. The next step is to get ourselves a trial date. Don't expect it to happen fast."

"Tell Big, Blue, and Furry to practice his golf game." the owl instructed her.

Big, Blue and Furry. That means Dr. McCoy. Does he even play golf?

"Make sure he leaves the ringer on his phone." The panther put in. "You never know when a friend in a high place might feel like a game."

I am not going to acknowledge them. No matter how much I want to. This is practice for court.

"Hey." The owl raised a wing to whisper at Grace, as if it cupped a hand around its mouth. "Doesn't that panther have the sexiest voice?" It giggled like a preteen girl.

All right. Now I know for sure they think driving me to pull out my hair is funny.

"Are you all right, Ms Engstrom? You've gotten very quiet." Angevin inquired.

"I'm fine, thank you. I was just thinking…that I would like to have this over with before the baby is born."

"That's unlikely. Is there a particular reason why?"

"I would like to bring him into a world which is safer for him than it is now." she replied.

Robert Angevin's face froze up for a moment; then he said, very softly. "We all want that for our children."

"What's your son's name?"

"Hugo. He was named for my wife's late father. Here—here's his picture."

Angevin was of a different generation than Erik, and so his son's photo was on his camera phone. Grace took the phone and looked at the image of a sturdy toddler sitting on a kitchen floor, pots and pans scattered around him. He had a wooden spoon in his hand, and he looked about to break into a huge drum solo, bouncing up and down and shrieking with laughter as he banged and smashed with all his might.

"He's adorable, but he looks like he would run you ragged."

"Oh, he does. Both of us."

"I take it he gets that carroty hair and those velvet eyes from your wife." What will my son look like, I wonder? Mine and Erik's… Is it horrible and catty of me to hope he's more intelligent than Pietro? I wonder what color hair Erik had when he was young, and when he started to turn silver. Pietro is as frosty haired as his father, and he's only thirty-five.

"Yes. This is Ella. Doctor Uzzano, professionally." Angevin took the phone back, pressed a button, and returned it. His wife's features were too strong and angular to be called beautiful, but the radiant happiness in her face, and the warmth of her brown eyes made up for that.

"Did you take this picture?" she asked, handing the phone back to him.

"Yes." He smiled, and his face lit up. He loves her very deeply. No wonder he knows about marriage. "Getting back on track, after we have a date, I'm going to get together a focus group, a number of people who are representative of the type of jurors you'll get. We'll hold a mock trial, perhaps more than one, to see how your case goes over. A lot will depend on the opposing attorneys. With any luck, we'll get the most rabid anti-mutant hardcases out there."

"Do you mean bad luck or good luck?"

"Oh, good luck, of course. I hope we'll get the worst assholes out there. I hope they attack our witnesses, spew venom all over the court, froth at the mouth and chew up the carpet. The worse they are, the more people will sympathize with you. They'll see exactly what it means to be a mutant."

"What will you and I be doing while they're chewing up the flooring?"

"I will be Jimmy Stewart in Mr. Smith Goes To Washington. I will be the Boy Scout, the guy the jury wishes their daughters would bring home—and you will simply be you."

"Do you really have the nickname of The Prince of Sharkness in legal circles?" It was hard to see it.

"Goddamn right I do. Barracudas are kinder than I am—but I'm on your side. I identify quite strongly with my clients, Ms. Engstrom. Their fights are my own. It's just that sometimes being merciless means being the nicest guy on the planet."


"I was expecting her to be just like Mystique, and she isn't." Wanda told her brother. He was out of the infirmary now, and getting around on crutches. They were sitting on a bench under a maple near the mansion; the occasional scarlet or orange leaf drifted down around them.

"She was faking it. If Father thinks the reason she's with him is sex, then she has to be a good actress."

"Let's not get into that, please. This is serious. I…tested her yesterday. I didn't think of it that way when it happened, but that's what I was doing. I did something I'm ashamed of now, and she saved me from making a complete fool of myself, making things worse for mutants, hurting you and disappointing Father." She picked up a leaf that had landed by her feet and smoothed it out on her knee, uncurling the edges.

"Wanda—what did you do?"

"I think I'd rather not talk about that right now. It gets worse. Instead of thanking her, I got angry at her. Very mature of me, I know. She got mad right back at me, and dragged me into a coffee shop, where she bought me chocolate cake and gave me the scolding I deserved."

"What? How dare she? I'll—."

"Are you not listening to me, Pietro? I pushed her to it. By the time she was done, I felt like I'd been turned inside out and given a thorough cleaning. Not like I'd been slashed to pieces. She acted…

"She acted like she was my mother."