So, I have a feeling this chapter is gonna be pretty kick-ass.

The tension in this story has been a little thick lately, with all the steamy Spike moments and bad guy vibes, so I tried really hard to lighten things up a bit with some good ol' parental confrontation.

Once you actually read that part of the chapter I think it's gonna be funny.

Anyhow, we're so close to the end. I believe the next chapter is where you'll have some more bad guy/James action with his little puppets and you finally figure out how the Lab Rats have decided to deal with it.

No One's Pov

Now that Maria could pinpoint exactly when she was leaving, she could say that, in the least, she enjoyed herself—wherever she was.

The people were, for a lack of better word, nice, she was given time to heal from the big bruises her chain had given her, and for the first time in months she felt…energized.

It was a weird feeling to get used to again, but a good one nonetheless.

When the girl left, Maria began counting the time until that someone arrived, just in case she was being deceived.

While the wait was long, two hours later a woman appeared. Maria took her in cautiously, not recognizing her from the other people of the household.

She wasn't pretty or ugly. Her hair was flat and limp without appearing dirty, while her clothes were tight and stiff-looking over her slightly bulky body.

Her footsteps were light, but Maria couldn't ignore the echoing machinery noises that grew louder as the lady stepped nearer.

"Hello, Maria, I don't believe we've formally met," she said in a voice that came out under toned with static. "But, there will be plenty of time for that once we get in the car. Come along, then, you have people waiting."

December 20th 2013

Chase's Pov

I watched from the top of the steps as Rem led a slightly unsettled Maria out, hearing the purr of a car's engine as they pulled out of the driveway and started off down the street.

I had gone into Spike mode once again when Christine had come into my room, although not quite as unannounced as last time.

Once I came back no one would tell me why I went in, or what happened while I was out. But Christine hadn't been screaming or profusely hitting me with her surprisingly strong fists, so I assumed Spike hadn't landed anyone in the hospital, which was always a good thing.

Now I was surrounded by all my schoolwork that my teachers expected done and handed in by the end of the week. That wouldn't be a problem if my head wasn't so caught up in my relationship drama instead of my thick pile of work.

As the boyfriend, there were things we had to conquer by ourselves: pleasing the girlfriend, remembering all the important dates, knowing all their likes and dislikes.

And scoring a place on the parents' good side.

When I had seen Allan Grant as a single parent with a scientist career, I knew I had this certain obstacle in the bag. Which, up until the whole "Davenport VS. Grant" stage, I did. And Rem, being the sweet, easy-to-get-along with, caretaker she was, had been a breeze.

Then, Maria entered the picture after almost fifteen years of being out of it—or at least her clone did.

But after all the anger and hatred that Christine had pointed at her, the mother/daughter feud had been in the spotlight so long that pleasing Maria had been the furthest thing for my mind when everyone talked about her like the bitch she was.

Or everyone thought she was.

Now that the original Maria had been saved and would once again be in the Grant household, it dawned on me that she would want to somehow get involved in her daughter's life again—which meant that she was going to gradually come more into my life as well.

Saving her life should score me big pointers, and get me at least a little closer to being safe on her good side. But I had no way of knowing what bringing up that part of her life now that she was out of it would do; she would either be extremely grateful or extremely pissed and banish me from Christine's life as much as she could.

And, because how sucky our luck was and had been for the past few months, my future was looking brightly like the latter if I did so.

As I sat alone in the cafeteria during study hall, this was what I obsessed over. Thankfully I only had study hall with Adam and Leo and they were doing something with gummy bears and rubber bands in the boys' locker room, telling Mr. Finkle that they were feeling ill.

Sitting here and feeling sorry for myself about how I was going to royally screw up with Maria seemed better than getting beat up by jocks once they find out who was launching candy at them while they changed.

I knew from experience that once they were caught, their brightest would be run, which didn't seem like a very solid one considering Leo's lack of athletic ability and Adam's lack of...intelligence.

The History test I was supposed to studying for was going to be killer, and everyone knew that because Mrs. Wright was killer herself. How Mr. Wright managed to survive her wrath that no doubt followed her home as much as homework followed us students home, I'd never know.

But damn it all if I actually focused on that for once instead of the dramatic sequences of my life, because apparently God cutting me a break was too much too hope for.

"Would you hold still?"

I scrunched my face up, once again beginning to squirm as Bree struggled to keep me still. "That stuff smells terrible."

"Yeah, well, this stuff will help you make a good impression."

"Oh, so mothers like it when their daughter's boyfriend smell like overpriced hair chemicals that no doubt destroy brain cells?"

"...You're such a killjoy sometimes."

I sighed, feeling disgruntled as Bree finally brought her gel-slicked hands out of my hair and put down her evil comb. It didn't seem like it, but combs could cause some serious damage if someone were to push down hard enough on someone's scalp. Which Bree did. A lot. It hurt like hell.

I stood in her room, wearing the dress shirt and black jeans Bree had thrown at me once I told her about my situation. I felt regretful instantly for coming to her for help, however, when she began attacking me with her hair supplies and roughly yanking on my shoulders to "fix my posture". Bull.

It struck me that I could've gone to Tasha with this predicament, probably with less pain and better results. But it was too late now, I thought bitterly as Bree bent to properly tuck in my jeans to my high-tops.

"There," she said with finality, critiquing her work carefully. "At least now you look presentable."

I rolled my eyes, resisting the urge to stick my tongue and ran my hands wildly through my gelled hair, destroying her handiwork. "Can I go now?" I asked flatly.

She sighed, annoyed with me, but flicked her hand in dismissal, allowing me to leave. "Fine, you may go."

Gratefully taking up the offer, I hurried out of her room.

Coming into the living room, I pulled my phone out my pocket. I had thirty minutes to get to Christine's, and it was only a ten, fifteen minute walk between our houses. Maybe showing up early would be enough to impress Maria, at least a little.

After yelling that I'd be back in a couple hours, I closed the door behind me and started off down the street.

Everything was still wet and damp from all the rain Mission Creek had been getting all week. The air felt damp, and everything I walked by had an earthy scent to it. It was kind of relaxing, it even almost made me forget about the awaiting dinner I was about to endure.

Only almost.

Once I reached their front door, however, all the nerves and anxiety came back as I stood on their front porch, my fist hesitating over the door.

Then I realized how ridiculous and feminine I was acting. I didn't need to worry, not as much as I was anyway. Christine couldn't care less about Maria's opinion. She didn't care about Grant's when him and Davenport were feuding, and I highly doubt that she was going to let her mother get in the way of us.

With a deep breath, I gave three loud, firm knocks to the door. I heard some thudding on the other side then a beat later the door swung open. Rem stood there, holding a glass bowl full of what looked like pasta sauce.

"Chase, I didn't expect you to get here this early," Rem said, sounding pleasantly surprised (and maybe just a bit relieved) to see me standing there. "Well, come in, come in."

Feeling a little less nervous, I stepped inside, shoving my hands deep into my pockets to hide them as they began to shake slightly.

Damn my uncooperative nerves.

I took a seat on the couch as Rem made her way back to the kitchen, stirring and hollering for Christine to come downstairs as she did so.

No more than a minute later was Christine swinging herself over the back of the couch to sit next to me, her expression grim.

"I'm so not ready to do this," she said, her tone dismayed.

I gave a weak chuckle. "And you think I am?"

She rolled her eyes and elbowed me playfully. "She's been staying in the guest room, and driving me nuts with how much dad waits on her hand and foot."

"Well, she was look up for a long time, you know."

Christine snorted, still bitter. "She's been for more than twelve years and expects us just to take her back like that." She snapped her fingers, punctuating her point. "Well, she doesn't deserve that kind of satisfaction. And I'm certainly not going to be the one to give it to her."

We sat and talked for a few minutes, faintly hearing Rem's presence as she made her way around the kitchen, finishing dinner with the bang of her cooking tools hitting the pots and pans.

When she whirred out and called through the house that dinner was ready, Christine and I took our time getting from the couch to the dining room. Even as we passed them, Bradley and Grant's feet seemed to drag as they came down the stairs from their respective rooms.

Maria seemed to be the only one unaware of the dreaded feeling that accompanied the dinner, closing the patio door behind her as she calmly sat down at one of the six seats available.

Christine gave me a look as we sat down opposite of her, folding out napkins into our laps. Bradley looked reluctant to slide into the seat next to his mother. Grant seemed to be the one hiding his emotions best as he sat at one end of the table.

Personally I thought the dinner was going well as Rem buzzed around us, arranging the pasta bowl and sauce pan perfectly, making sure there was room for the salad to sit and that our drinks of choice didn't spill over the edge of the table or on us.

But then it happened.

"Why is she sitting there?" Maria asked abruptly, looking with dark eyes at where Rem had situated herself at the other end seat.

"Because it's dinner time," Christine said, her voice sounding monotonous and flat.

"And she eats?" Maria said incredulous and clipped.

I glanced over at Rem through the corner of my eye, trying to take in her reaction. Rem, as always, looked stoic and blank as the mother and daughter argument proceeded on, growing louder and angrier with each rebuttal bounced back and forth.

"Of course she does!" Christine cried, her hands slamming down on the table in exasperation. Our two glass full of iced water shook, tiny droplets of condensation running down the sides faster. "She's a person too!"

"No, and I personally don't believe that hired machinery should be spending as much time as she does with the family," Maria countered cryptically.

At this, I caught Rem fidgeting with the napkin lying on her empty plate, obviously uncomfortable with this agreeably hurtful and cruel statement.

Christine didn't look too pleased to be hearing this said about Rem either, as her hands formed tight fists and her eyes darkened to flash there menacing red. Uh-oh; it was a shame that Maria wasn't aware of the extra fierceness that Christine's anger was fueled with; but I doubted that it would change much of anything that she had just said.

Grant, observing the bitter interaction more intensely than I was, turned to Maria with a stern, subtly controlled angered look on his face as he said, "Maria, you know from the short time you've been here in that Rem is just like an aunt to Christine, and that she's practically a sister to me. She has every right to join us for a family meal when she is a part of the family."

Maria rubbed her lips together, the skin of them turning white from the tightness. There was a long pause of heavy silence. I stared at the frosted cubes in my water, catching Bradley as he squirmed awkwardly in his chair. It was written openly on his face that he didn't agree with a word of what his mother was saying about Rem, but that he wasn't about to speak out his opinion either at the risk of making this dinner crash more than it already was.

Too late for that, buddy.

The rest of the dinner was spent with Christine shooting daggers at Maria ever chance she got, and Maria looking much more victimized than she was at the beginning when she was judging everything in the household she abandoned so many years ago.

Rem and Bradley started a side conversation about how much he'd been wanting to start school soon. "I wanna be able to start sixth grade," I'd heard him say eagerly before Maria started a conversation of her own.

"I don't like you," she stated crossly, her black eyes glaring at me through a thin curtain of dirty blonde hair.

I blinked, swallowing the bite of pasta that I had been chewing for the three minutes. It lost its taste and felt mushy as it went down my throat.

"Well, I'm sorry you feel that way," I said, feeling Christine grab my left hand and interlock my fingers with her right. She gave my hand a firm squeeze; she approved.

Grant looked tired as he gave a sigh. For the past ten minutes he'd been nursing the same glass of wine—I could tell that the bubbly feel hadn't helped put him to ease.

"Really, Maria, now your just being ridiculous," he scoffed.

Maria snapped her head to him, looking genuinely appalled. "And why is that? He comes from a dangerous crowd."

Christine gave a humorless snort. "Oh yes, straight A student, loves video games, comes from nice, loving family and wealthy home. Chase, do tell, where do you keep your sweater vests made of leather?"

Even I gave a laugh to that, feeling her hand give mine another squeeze.

"Let's keep in mind that if it wasn't for Chase and his family's generosity you wouldn't have the joy of eating Rem's divine dinner with us right now."

Maria glared around the table, her daggers lasting a little longer on her son and Rem, still in deep conversation.

"The noodles taste underdone."

Grant gave another heavy sigh, muttering through a gulp of wine, "Like you have any jurisdiction to judge someone's cooking compared to yours."

Christine, having been taking a drink of water, laughed, spewing her water onto her mother's plate, and choking in the process. Her face glowed red with tiny crystal tears came to the corners of her eyes.

I myself gave a short guffaw, figuring that Maria hated me anyway, I couldn't make it any worse.

Maria spent dessert sulking and muttering incoherent insults into her cheesecake, while Christine and I continued to snicker.

Welp, that took forever to write, but I really enjoyed writing the dinner scene. It was fun, and made the chapter longer, so bonus.

I know Maria seems really unfair and bitchy, but it will all be explained in later chapters, that will take longer.

I officially started school today, and I already know I'm having a quiz this week. And on a Friday too, so damn.

But I did get some candy today from an awesome teacher, so hurray for that. Please review this chapter, and tell us what your favorite part was. And what you might wanna see in future chapters, maybe? We love getting your ideas and we do take them into consideration, so please feel free to say something!