Who's a horrible person? That's right, me. I'm so so so so sorry that this took so long. Life is such a mess but that is no excuse. I give everyone permission to punch me in the face for taking forever. I promise the next one will be up soon.

Oh, and I only have $2 to my name, I own nothing.

Chapter 4-

She could hear the scrape of chairs and clink of dinnerware downstairs. She'd contemplated going down to help, but to be honest, she'd much rather sit and sulk. It was a rotten day, to be sure.

School had gone well enough, only one argument with Peace, no Save the Citizen, and her lunch had been rather good, but all of that was irrelevant. At this very instant, just below her, her parents and brother were setting the table for dinner… for five. Warren Peace was to have dinner at the Garwin's, by royal decree of their stupid little blue Hero-Sidekick packets. Who did they think they were?

And, that wasn't the worst of it, no. While Peace sat at her kitchen table and sulked (as she imagined he would) Maggie would be at Thompson's house, at his utter mercy, alone. The thought made her seethe. How could Principle Powers have been so stupid?

She was in the middle of a particularly vicious train of thought when Elijah peeked his head in through her open doorway. "Are you sulking because Warren is coming here, or because Mags is going to Thompson's?" Elijah was a smart boy and very much in tune with his sister's moods and habits, he knew it was probably a mixture of both.

Emm's scowl darkened visibly. "I'll kill him," she began as Elijah stepped fully into the room. "Swear to god, he lays one hand on her, I'll tear out his intestines."

He made a face at the mental picture and smartly chose against pointing out that her swearing to god didn't have much value. Their father would have laughed at it; scientist his whole life he was practically required to find the idea of god and religion humorous. Emm was very much her father's daughter.

He let his sister continue her angry sulking and made himself comfortable on her gray comforter. "You know Warren doesn't want to be here any more than you want him to be."

She rolled her eyes in his direction and stared at him blankly. There was very little comfort in the thought that Peace would be as miserable as her. And she didn't like that 'Lijah referred to him in such friendly manners, she would much rather have him say it with as much derision as she did. But, there was little chance of her brother referring to anyone with much derision.

It took a few more minutes of Elijah's good-natured pushing to draw her from her room. Downstairs she glared at the neatly set table and wished they'd greeted Peace with paper plates rather than her favorite white china. Damn her family for being so hospitable.

"Oh, quit frowning, Emmy. I'm sure he's not half as bad as you make him out to be." Her mother, with her ever present smile and bright strawberry blonde hair looked a vision in her only non-paint splattered apron. Mrs. Garwin was a painter with a heart just a few times bigger than the sun and more than her fair share of odd quirks.

If Emmeline was her father's daughter Elijah was his mother's. Sometimes it drove Emm insane how easily they forgave every little thing and how rarely their tempers even let themselves be known. Emm's father wasn't a very angry man himself (Emm's temper was always questioned by the family), but there was always the possibility that he could get cross and was far more likely to share in Emm's dislike of anyone than the other two.

"Mom, even if he was the devil himself you'd like him. Your opinion means next to nothing on this matter."

Her father nodded his head and gave them a smile as he set down a bowl of asparagus. "Let's be honest, how badly do you want me to hate him so you'll have another ally in the house?"

'Lijah let out a laugh beside her and even she had to crack a smile at how easily she'd been read by her family. "Dad, I need you to hate him. And if you could hate him enough to kick him out, that would be awesome." A very unlikely situation.

The sound of the doorbell made her jump a little and sent her mother into a frenzied rush to make sure everything was set. Scowl safely in place Emm went to get the door after a look from her dad.

It comforted her to see that he looked uncomfortable and clearly out of his element. And then, it made a small streak of sympathy run through her, which she quickly shoved away. "Peace, how wonderful that you could make it." She deadpanned.

He quirked something of a half-smirk half-smile as she moved to let him pass. The Garwin home was forever in a state of tidy clutter and the family interests were immediately visible. Paintbrushes and little oil tubes littered a table pushed against the far wall and he could almost imagine those same brushes had painted the many varied paintings that hung around the room. A binder sat open on the coffee table with what looked like complex equations and a screwdriver sat not far away. The bookshelf beside the massive front window was organized by color with a small painted trinket, indistinguishable gizmo, or neatly framed photo finding its way onto each shelf.

Emm would always claim that she didn't care what he thought in the least, but she took pride in her home and all it's little bits, even if sometimes she found herself unable to find her wrench among drawers and drawers and pencils, charcoal, and brushes. "Well, here you are. The Garwin family home." She made a sweeping motion to move him along to the dining room.

The dining room was very neatly set with a vase of freshly cut flowers from the backyard but she knew full well the kitchen most likely looked like a war zone. Her mother was hardly a tidy cook, with too much frenzied energy in her to stop and wash a bowl when she was done.

"Ah, finally, Mr. Warren Peace, pleasure to meet you." Her father was the first to step forward and hold his hand out to Peace, who shook it firmly with a muttered "You too, sir"

Her mother quickly skittered around the side of the table to join them. "Oh, I love your hair, that color must be so hard to maintain."

Emm couldn't help the snicker that followed. Of course her mother would notice the color of his hair first. Elijah and her father seemed equally amused and in no way surprised. Abigail Garwain was very easily distracted by colors.

"Oh! Right, manners." She laughed a little with that bright, contagious smile of hers. "Abigail Garwin, Emmy and 'Lijah's mom, though you've probably already guessed that. It's great to meet you and I'm sure Emmy's just exaggerating and you aren't quite so horrible as she says. You can call me Abby, or Mrs. Garwin, I guess, or mom even. Maggie does it."

"Mom!" Emm half shouted, partly to stop her ramble, "He cannot call you mom. Now, stop being so nice." She walked past them both to stand by her father. "How am I supposed to get dad to dislike him so severely he invents an anti-Warren Peace shield if you're trying to convince him to call you mom."

She was gentle shoved away with a chuckle and told to sit down. Elijah, who'd been quietly watching the introductions gave a little wave from the table. "Hi, Warren."

Warren, for his part, hid his surprise and however overwhelmed he might be quite well and just gave them all a half smile. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Garwin. Hi." Then he turned to Emm. "An anti-Warren Peace shield? Really?"

"Hey! That's mine!" Emm was quick to swat Elijah's hand with a fork when he moved in on her crumble.

"Emmy, please be careful not to stab anyone."

"It's alright, she forgets that I can get it without even coming close to her."

"Don't you dare. We'll all get covered in blackberry crumble and I'll have to hurt someone."

"Well, no offense Warren, but if that happens I'm glad you're here."

"If you ruin my dessert and cover me in it I will completely forgo Peace and turn all my rage on you."

"Glad to hear it, Garwin."

"This happens every time we make blackberry crumble. Why don't we ever learn?"

Dessert followed in much the same way dinner had and Emm had been quite surprised at Peace's lack of sulking. He hadn't been loquacious by any means, but he'd spoken and, much to her chagrin, her parents seemed to like him.

"Oh!"

Warren managed to not jump when Mrs. Garwin suddenly rose from the table. Emm and Elijah were very much used to this and knew exactly what would follow. "I've got it! It'll be perfect." She rushed around the table quickly and gave Warren a hurried hug that left him surprised and a little wide-eyed before rushing off in the other direction.

"Don't worry about that, she does that." With the fight over her dessert over Emm could focus on actually enjoying it. "She's a painter, remember, she just got inspiration." She took a large bite out of her crumble.

"Yeah, and the hug was either a you've-inspired-me-how-wonderful-hug or just a it-was-lovely-to-meet-you-Emmy-is-just-a-little-insane-hug." 'Lijah gave him his most sage look before returning to his plate and dodging Emm's halfhearted attempt at swatting him.

"Hun," Emm turned to the head of the table as she began clearing up plates. "Why don't you show Warren the house and 'Lijah and I will take care of this."

She made a face, but set down her plates with a sigh and motioned for Peace to follow her. "Come on, let's have a tour."

He stood to follow her, grabbing his signature leather jacket from the back of the chair. When he'd joined her at the dining room entrance she took it from him and led him to the living room they'd first seen. "Here's the living room, you know, the room you first see when you walk in." She made a distracted motion with her hand as she hung the jacket on one of the hooks on the wall. "All the paintings are mom's."

The tour continued with Emm becoming a little less dispassionate with each room, she was proud of her home, after all. "And this is 'Lijah's room." She didn't think twice about letting them both in and motioning around.

Elijah's room was done up in a dusty sort of blue and, while a little disorganized, looked clean and cozy. It was the drawings on the walls that drew Warren's attention. On every single wall there was a wallpapering of sketches done in charcoal or pencil, some colored, some half done, but all good. He moved around the room looking at each in turn and was only a little surprised to find more than a few renditions of Emmeline among drawings of animals, plants, places, and portraits of Mr. and Mrs. Garwin along with Maggie, Dan, and a few others he thought he'd seen at school.

"'Lijah doesn't paint as much as mom, but he loves to draw. And he's damn good too."

His eyes moved over from a picture to where Emm stood against the doorway. He tapped the wall. "He's too nice to you."

Her eyes narrowed and she made a face at him. "My house, Peace, I'll win every fight in here." She had, so far, tried to keep fighting to a minimum over dinner and Peace had failed to rise to any of her bating, but that could change in an instant. "Let's go, one more stop."

The walls of Emm's room were a pale yellow and, like the rest of the Garwin house, was forever in a state of tidy clutter. The short bookshelf against the far wall was packed with books, arranged alphabetically this time, with the same tendency to have little nicknacks sticking out, and held even more scattered objects on top of it. Beside the door stood her computer desk which was littered with neatly stacked books and pages of what he assumed was homework. Her bed was made up with a gray comforter and yellow pillows and he was amused to see a sock monkey sitting on the short shelf beside the window and above her bed where her (again yellow) phone and alarm clock sat.

He waltzed in and sat down on the corner of her bed to get a better look at her bookshelf while she stood in the doorway with a half scowl. She had realized, sometime over dinner, that he probably wasn't used to getting a warm welcome in most places. Even though he and Stronghold were friends now she couldn't imagine the Commander very cheerily asking him over for a cup of tea and she knew most Supers were obnoxiously aware of his parentage.

Theodore Garwin had never been one to let Super politics affect him. He preferred to work on his inventions and take care of his family without worrying over whose parents had done what. It was one of the many reasons she adored her father.

"What is that supposed to be?" She was drawn from her little reverie and followed his pointing finger to the corner desk which currently sat covered in the remains of their toaster.

"Our toaster, it broke so I was fixing it." She watched him nod and go back to idly fingering her Bowie CD's.

"Your dad's the inventor, though, right?" Emm nodded and moved to her work station. Picking up one of the coils she brushed it off and set it into place, making sure it locked in right. "But you're the one fixing the toaster?"

"I can't have a hobby, Peace?"

The phone rang and she practically clambered over him to get to it. She was half on the bed and half on him but at the moment she was more preoccupied with hearing news from Maggie and didn't care if she was on top of Peace.

"Hello? Mags- Oh. Oh, hi aunt Margie." Her voice fell flat though she tried to keep some semblance of interest in the conversation. She was fond of her aunt Margie, but was too worried over Maggie's dinner with Thompson to really gossip with her aunt. "Yeah, we're fine, how are you? That's good. Nope, no boyfriend. Nope. Listen, auntie, I have company over, I'll send you down to dad. Yes, it's a boy. I'd rather gag myself and jump off a pier than even consider that."

She glared at Peace when he swatted the back of her head but said nothing. "Okay, yeah, transferring the call now. By aunt Margie." She routed the call to the downstairs phone, knowing her father would get it in a second, and hung up. Her teeth began their usual assault on her lip and she sighed. Maybe she could just find out where Thompson lived and swing by?

"Listen, Garwin, as glad as I am that you aren't a fangirl, I'll have to reconsider my opinion of you if you don't get off me." She turned to Peace with a confused look before she realized she was still practically on top of him and he'd had to lean back on her to accommodate her. The speed at which she jumped off was something to be envied.

With some awkward throat clearing she moved to stand back in the doorway.

"Who are you expecting a call from that you're willing to climb over me to get to the phone?" He raised an eyebrow in typical Peace fashion and decided she was more interesting than her CD collection or half built toaster.

Emm continued to worry her lip and looked anxiously at the clock. With Peace there she'd almost forgotten that she was supposed to be plotting possible murders for Thompson. "You're having dinner with me, Maggie's having dinner with Thompson."

He made a face to rival her own and an agreement hung in the air over them; they'd rather have a million dinners with each other rather than one with Thompson. "She's at Thompson's house? What was Powers thinking? Pairing her with him?"

"I know! My sentiments exactly!" With a huff she threw up her arms and moved to sit at the head of her bed, pushing her pillow aside. "I mean, I was pissed when we got paired up, but I can handle you and you can handle me. And if you piss me off enough I can punch you clear through a wall. But the most Maggie can do is tell him off in every language known to man."

He made a noise which she took to mean his agreeing with all part and moved to accommodate himself better on her bed. With his back against the wall his long legs came right off the side of her bed and he earned just a few points in her mind for keeping his shoes off her bed. "Thompson's an ass, but she should be alright."

When she raised her eyebrow as far as it would go he clarified. "She's not exactly the most assertive person," Emm nodded resignedly. "But, she's been around you for how long? Something must have rubbed off."

It was true, Emm had enough assertiveness to cover the both of them and it wasn't like Dan was a wilting flower himself either. Dan was calm, cool, and collected, but Emm was fully aware that angering him would always been a great mistake. Her angry was quick to flare and quick to die back down (though she'd been known to hold a grudge or two), but Dan would simmer and simmer and she could only imagine what would happen when he finally burst.

"I'll kill him, you know." She gave him a serious look and he pretended to believe she would ever really kill anyone. "He lays one hand on her and I'll run him into the ground."

Emmeline Garwin was violent and easily angered, but there was very little doubt in his mind that she would never be able to kill anyone. They had fought enough times that he fancied he knew a thing or two about her and underneath all that arrogance and foul language and readiness to call him on any little thing was a bleeding heart. He kept that to himself for now.

"Well, if anything you could just play David Bowie until he dies." He gestured to the extensive CD collection and started up their first argument of the night.