The thing was crying softly, more of a whimper as it shifted around. Jack glanced around, then poked his head into the kitchen, but Tom and Helna weren't there. He was outside, and she was . . . she'd gone to get a book she thought he might enjoy. The volume increased and Jack crept over to the rocking swing, peering down at the squirming girl-thing. That thing, the thing it had been sucking on, had fallen out and he pursed his lips as he considered his options.

"Hey, shut up." That didn't work; of course not. The girl-thing wasn't able to comprehend speech yet, much less follow an order. He stared at the sucky thing and then wiped his fingers off on his jeans, idly remembering something about germs and new squirming things not mixing well, then leaned down and picked it up with two fingers, making a face as he tried to get the now-crying girl-thing to suck on it once more. After a moment, small lips puckered around it and the thing sucked fervently, as if making up for lost time. "Yeah. Good job."

He crouched down and watched the girl-thing for a while, tilting his head this way and that, drawing closer, then pulling back. He lowered his head to its feet to examine them, then got really close and sniffed it. Didn't smell too bad, he decided. Of course, sometimes these creatures smelled horrible. As long as he didn't have to fix that problem, and someone else fixed it quickly, that was fine by him. Small blue eyes, but huge in comparison to the rest of its head, watched him intently as the girl-thing sucked, tiny hands curling and uncurling as if it was looking for something to hold on to. Curious, Jack poked one itty-bitty palm with his pinky, jerking a little in surprise when the girl-thing grasped it with surprising strength. He tried to pull away, but it didn't let go and he didn't know how much pressure would to hurt it, so he folded his legs and sat cross-legged in front of it, letting the motion of the swing draw his arm back and forth, back and forth.

"You're tiny," he told the girl-thing. He couldn't quite recall if it had a name. "I mean, you're really tiny. But you're huge at the same time. Look at your eyes, all buggy and big, and your mouth? Completely out of proportion. And what about your cheeks, huh? Puffy things. You look ridiculous. You've got a big pot belly, and your arms and legs are scrawny." It regarded him calmly, still sucking on its treat thing, and he stared back with a frown. "You're not cute at all, you know. You're just . . . compact. Why is it that the smaller and more compact something is, the more women love it? I mean, it doesn't work with everything --- penises come to mind --- but really, look at you. You think just because you have those big huge eyes in that teeny-tiny face, you're going to get fed and cuddled?" He sighed. "Yeah, guess you do, huh? Well, whatever works, right?"

Out in the hallway, tears of laughter were streaming down Helna's face as she frantically gestured for Tom to be quiet and come join her. He was puzzled until he started listening, then he started grinning and shaking with laughter.

"Now, let me tell you a thing or two," Jack went on as the swing came to a slow stop. "Men? Pigs, all of them. Stay away from them, all right? They only want one thing, and when you're old enough to understand, you'll appreciate my next bit of advice. Ge a knife. A big one. Learn to use it. Get a gun, too, and when some horny dickhead asks what you're doing that night, tell him you'll be home, sharpening your knives and cleaning your .44." The girl-thing started fussing, so he got up and pursed his lips a bit before gently easing it out of the swing and holding it in both hands, fingers supporting it's scrawny neck, then he brought it close to his chest and it rested it's head on his shoulder. It had stopped fussing, so he figured he'd gotten the holding thing down correctly from watching Tom and Helna hold it.

"Develop talents, lots of them, and don't ever do something for free if you're good at it. Make your own clothes, kid, it'll save you a lot of money and they'll fit much better than off-the-rack shit. And do you know how many times Rachel's jumped my bones because my pants are perfectly tailored to fit me? But you're staying away from men, so that doesn't count. Unless you turn out to be a lesbian, in which case, all women are crazy and you should stay away from them, too." He sighed as it hiccuped and started walking around the living room. "Not everything burns, either, which is important to know. Potassium nitrite? Fizzles wetly. Potassium nitrate, on the other hand, makes a very nice boom."

The two in the hallway were almost rolling on the floor with muffled laughter, trying not to disturb the life lecture their daughter was receiving.

"Don't let anyone tell you you're not good enough for something. Unless you aren't, in which case you have to work hard to become good at it. Practice makes perfect in everything. And if you can, marry a man who's dumber than you are, which, if you take my advice, won't be hard to do. Men are idiots as well as pigs, and you need to be able to outsmart them in everything. And don't underestimate the persuasive power of sex. We men will do just about anything to get laid, which is why I painted that damned house all by myself last summer. Now, you seem like you might grow up to be cute; your parents are certainly good looking, but you can't count on that. If you're cute, men will think you're dumb, but if you're also smart, well, see where I'm going with this? And even if you're perfectly capable of lifting, moving, or doing something by yourself, if a man wants to help you, let him; it means less work for you. I know some women would get offended by that, but think about it: there's some horny guy thinking he's getting laid for moving that big crate for you, but you never promised anything, just smiled real pretty and gushed about how strong he is, then thank him, get in your car and drive off. He's the dumb-ass that thought you would put out."

He cleared his throat and bounced the girl-thing a little, its small body warm along his chest and shoulder, his arm resting securely against its back. He rather liked the tiny heartbeat he could feel. "Speaking of, never put out unless you want to, and ialways/i tell him exactly what to do and how to do it. And a guy buying you drinks or dinner doesn't obligate you to have sex with him; if it did, that would be prostitution. Don't ever be a prostitute. And the first guy to try to smack you around? Kill him. Don't take crap from anybody." Jack chewed on his inner cheek as he thought. "I think that's about it for now. Where'd your parental units get off to? If they're having sex and leaving me to watch you, I'm not going to be happy."

Helna appeared in the doorway, wiping at her eyes with a grin. "I'm sorry that took so long, Jack." She looked him over as he turned, a slightly guilty look on his face as he was caught holding the baby without permission. "You look so sweet together," was all she said as she waved the book in the air, giggling. "Here you go, The Colour of Magic. Is everything all right?"

"Uh . . . yeah," he said, then cleared his throat. "It was making noise. I don't know why."

"She," and the pronoun was stressed slightly, "does that. Babies get lonely, just like everyone else. Mitzi just wanted to be held."

"Oh. It ---"

"She."

"She just wanted to be held," Jack repeated.

"Don't you ever just want a hug?" Helna asked as she walked over. Jack tried to hand her the girl-thing, but the mother didn't take it, only smiled up at the now-sleeping infant.

"Well . . . yeah."

"So why should babies be different? Think about it: you're warm and safe and snuggled up tight in your own tiny world for nine months, then all of a sudden you're thrust out into a big place where it's cold and bright and loud and scary; of course you'd want to be comforted now and then."

He licked at his scars as she smiled up at him. "Never thought about it."

That prompted a laugh. "I didn't think you had. Where'd you learn to hold a baby?"

"Am I doing it wrong?"

Helna laughed again as she brushed her fingers across Mitzi's head. "No, you're doing it great."

"Good. I just watched you and Tom hold her. I'm a fast learner. Uh, she wouldn't let my finger go."

"And you always let Rachel's hand go?"

"But I'm not a baby," he protested.

Helna gave him an 'Oh, really?' look. "Not chronologically, at least. Are you ready for dinner?"

Jack shifted and cleared his throat. "Yeah. You want it back?" He tilted his head toward the baby.

"Her, Jack, and only if you're done holding her." Helna turned and walked into the kitchen, Jack following her. "Tom, why don't you dish up Jack's plate for him." They were both grinning.

"Something funny?" Jack asked as he sat down, still holding the baby against him.

"Oh, inside joke," Tom replied cheerfully. "Mitzi likes you; she doesn't normally let strangers hold her."

He glanced at the baby as Tom and Helna murmured over their first bites of food, some Jewish custom he vaguely remembered Harleen doing from time to time. "Well, I think we have an understanding." He took a bite of his own food, eating left-handed. "She's a good kid. Not too noisy."

That made Tom howl with laughter and Helna choked on her water a little. "An understanding, huh? Does that mean you're free to babysit?"

"Hell no," Jack replied. "Make Janet do it. She likes kids."

Helna frowned as she ate. "Speaking of, Tom, how are those girls doing? I saw Mary the other day and she looked awful. Are those girls safe living with her?"

He pursed his lips. "No one's complained to us," he said after a moment, referring to the police. "I can't do anything unless there's a registered complaint." He didn't look happy about it and Jack cleared his throat.

"I told her she could call me and Rachel if she ever needed anything. I don't mind," he said at their surprised looks. "I've just got this phobia, see, of crying women. Can't stand it. Plus Rachel would kill me if I didn't help out." He rolled his eyes slightly. "She's teaching me compassion through fear, I think."

"That's wonderful of you to do that for Janet and Susie," Helna said with a beaming smile. He shrugged. "I know they both really like you. It's . . . it's good that they have a positive male figure in their lives again."

This time it was Jack nearly choking on his steak. "Me? A positive figure? I don't think so, Helna."

"Oh, you are," Tom put in as he covered his wife's hand with a smile. "You really are. Janet's standing up to the bullies at school, and she never used to do that. And I hear that Susie's been helping out at home more, because you told her she needs to be strong for Mary."

"I needed to tell her something to stop her from crying," Jack replied stubbornly. He wasn't about to take credit for anything, and Tom and Helna exchanged knowing looks.

"Well," Tom went on, "there's a new fad of eating going around the teenage girls, because you also mentioned that you like women with curves. Cathy just about had a fit when her friends stopped that group diet they were all on."

"Group diet? That girl's going to fall in with a cult, one of these days," Jack muttered. "Drink the Kool-Aid, guys, and don't worry about that funny after taste."

His hosts snickered at that. "That's terrible," Helna said.

"But it's true." Jack paused to chew his steak, recalling Rachel's admonition to pay attention to how messy he was when he ate and making sure his mouth stayed closed. "Hey, can I file a harassment charge against her? She grabbed my ass the other day, and I felt violated. Had to take a hot shower and scrub myself raw when I got home."

They were laughing again. "She is rather, ah . . ."

"Promiscuous?" Jack offered. "Disease-ridden?"

"I'll go with promiscuous," Tom said. "Sad, but true."

"So," Helna said brightly, in a deliberate attempt to change the subject, "summer's coming up soon. Who's up for a camping trip?"

Jack held Mitzi all through the meal, only giving her back when Helna needed to feed her. He was standing on the back patio talking with Tom when his phone went off. It wasn't Rachel's ring tone, and he frowned at the local number.

"Yeah?" he asked after he'd flipped the phone open.

"J, Jack?" There was a sniffle. "It's Janet."

He frowned. "What's wrong?"

Her voice was very small, and it was obvious she was still crying. "I . . . c-can me and Susie come over, please?"

"Uh . . . I'm not at home right now." Tom was raising his eyebrows questioningly. "Are you two all right?"

"Mom . . . Mom locked the door and we can't get it. I'm sorry, Jack, I'm really sorry, it's just . . . we've been out here for an hour, and ---"

"Hey, hey, listen. I'm at the Fine's place. Do you live close to them?"

"We'll go get them," Tom told him as he went inside.

"Uhm, I don't think so . . ." She was trying so hard not to cry, and Jack swore to himself that if he ever saw that worthless mother of hers again, he'd kill her slowly and painfully.

"All right, Tom and I are coming to get you, okay? Janet, okay?"

Now she was sobbing, and he could hear Susie crying, too, as Tom beckoned him and he followed the officer to the car. "O, okay. I'm so sorry . . ."

"Don't be sorry," Jack told her firmly. "It's not your fault."

"B, but Mom said to go get some milk, and not be late, and when we got back, she'd locked the door and she won't open it . . . she was tired, she said, I think she's sleeping . . ."

"Then you'll stay over at my place tonight," Jack said. "Janet, calm down. You're probably scaring Susie."

That made her gulp back a the next few tears as Tom spoke. "Ask her how often this happens."

"How often does this happen, Janet?"

"Th, that Mom forgets to leave the door unlocked?"

"Yeah."

She was on the verge of tears again. "N, not often . . . a couple times a month . . ."

"Couple times a month," he relayed.

Tom was frowning, but then, so was Jack. "What about forgetting to pick them up from somewhere?"

"How often does she forget to pick you two up?"

Janet's voice was alarmed. "I don't want to get Mom in trouble! Please, Jack, don't get Mom in trouble?"

"Answer me, Janet," he said firmly. "Answer me now."

She burst into tears again as Tom pulled into her long driveway. "Once or twice a week . . ."

His lip curled in distaste. "Once or twice a week."

"Mm." The two girls were huddled on the steps of the Victorian house together, and as soon as the car had stopped Susie ran up and pounded on Jack's door, tears falling down her plump cheeks.

"Jaaaack," she sobbed as he opened the door, flinging herself at him. "Mommy hates us!"

He held her tightly as Tom got out and started talking with Janet in a low voice. "She doesn't hate you, poppet," he assured her, but even to his ears, it sounded strained and fake. "She's just not feeling well."

And how was this any different, his mind asked him, than watching Janet starve herself and saying 'My, Janet's looking a mite thin these days, don't you think?'? He was still lying, still pretending everything was fine when it wasn't, and wasn't going to be fine until something drastic happened. The small girl quivered in his arms and he took his jacket off, wrapping her up in it and pulling her into his lap as Tom pounded on the front door. Janet slumped over to the car, her eyes red and puffy.

"Get in," Jack told her as Susie curled against his chest, her small hands clutching at his shirt. He really wished Rachel were here to help; he didn't know how to comfort these children. He watched as the front door finally cracked open, and really wished he could get his hands on that stupid bitch. Mary was obviously still drunk and after a few minutes of yelling and crying at whatever Tom was saying, screamed something at the car and slammed the door. Susie buried her face in his chest and whimpered, and Janet curled in on herself.

"You don't mind them staying with you tonight?" Tom asked as he got back in.

"'Course not. Rachel's out of town." Tom raised his eyebrows and Jack frowned as he tried not to say that the girls wouldn't be disturbed by him and Rachel having sex. "Uh . . . y'know, it's quiet there without her."

"Will it be a problem if they need to stay a few days?"

"I don't want Mom in trouble!" Janet burst out.

"Shut up," Jack told her. "I could use the company, I suppose."

"All right. Do me a favour?"

"Maybe."

Tom glared at him. "Would you be willing to file a formal complaint with the police department and CPS about this incident?"

Jack looked back at Janet in the rear view mirror, then down at Susie in his arms, and pursed his lips as he nodded. "Yeah." Janet was still sniffling, and he sighed. "Look, Janet, I know you don't want your mom to get in trouble, but she's not taking care of either of you."

"I don't want to be in foster care!"

"No one said anything about ---"

"If you call CPS, they'll take us away and put us in different homes!" Janet cried out, hurt and angry and scared. "It happens all the time! I'll never see Mom or Susie again!"

"And Rachel's a goddamn lawyer, Janet; she's not going to let CPS do that. What is CPS?"

Janet snorted as Tom replied. "Child Protective Services. They investigate reports of child abuse and neglect."

"Oh." He was a little surprised that Tom was driving while Susie was still in his lap, but it was late and the officer was driving slowly. "Still, Rachel's not going to let you two get separated."

"Can we live with you and Miss Rachel?" Susie asked in a very tiny voice.

Jack's chest tightened and he hugged her. "That's not up to me, kiddo," he said past a dry throat. "Rachel and I . . . we've got some things going on, so you might not be able to. I think the courts decide that." He had no fucking clue about it, actually. "But we can have a slumber party tonight, and stay up way late, and drink lots and lots of soda and eat candy, all right? Everything Rachel won't let me do when she's home."

That made the little one giggle, and even Janet was trying not to smile. His phone went off as he and Tom were getting the girls settled into the downstairs bedroom.

"I believe in miracles . . . Where're you from, you sexy thing? . . . I believe in miracles . . . since you came along, you sexy thing . . ."

That made him perk up and he flipped his phone open with a grin. "Baby! I miss you already!" Then he winced; 'baby' was a button he didn't need to be pushing.

Rachel just laughed as Janet started snickering about his ring tone for her. "I miss you, too. How was dinner?"

"Uh, yeah, great." He walked out to the porch and closed the front door.

She was automatically suspicious. "'Uh, yeah, great'? What went wrong, Jack?"

"Geez, where's the trust? Honestly, dinner went fine. Tom and I had to go get Janet and Susie; they're staying here tonight. Other than that, every thing's fine."

"Janet and Susie? What happened? Are they all right, Jack?" Rachel was worried, and he could hear her tapping her fingers.

"They're just fine. Their mother forgot to leave the door unlocked when they went out for milk and probably passed out."

"But they're not hurt?"

"They're not hurt. Cold and a little hungry, but I've got that covered."

"Jack, you're amazing." Her voice was warm, and Jack wished she was with him to pat his head, rub his belly, and fuck him brainless for doing such a good job. "Thank you so much for letting them stay over. Oh, sweety, I love you so much."

He coughed and rapped his knuckles on the porch railing. "Yeah, well, don't compliment me too much; we've got guests, and all." His whole body was warm now, and he knew he was grinning like a fool. "You can, uh, make it up to me later, all right?"

She laughed. "Oh, that reminds me. I forgot to refill my birth control before I left; will you get it filled for me, maybe on Wednesday?"

His eyes narrowed and he tried to find the trap in her request, but Jack found nothing. It wasn't the first timed he'd filled the prescription for her, anyway. "Yeah, sure, no problem."

"Thanks. I've got to get to dinner, but you're sure you're all right with the girls over?"

He licked his lips and nodded. "Yeah, we'll be fine. Maybe we'll order a pizza or something. The pizza place should still be open."

"I think it closes at ten-thirty; okay, sweety, I'll call you tomorrow."

"Before you go to bed," he reminded her.

Rachel sighed. "Fine, before I go to bed. I love you, Jack."

"Yeah. Talk to you later."

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye."

Tom was standing at the door when Jack turned around. "Cute ring tone."

"Rachel did it." He grinned and sat on the swing. "Want a beer?"

"No, I'm good. The girls need to get to school in the morning. I'll call and let the office know they're not to be punished for not having their homework with them. Ah . . . you don't have a license, do you?"

"Nope," Jack said cheerfully. "I walk, bike, or get driven everywhere. Janet can use Rachel's bike, and I can fit Susie with me; don't worry." Tom's eyes narrowed, but he shrugged.

"All right. Come by the station after you drop them off at school, all right? I'm sure Rachel will call first thing to ask what happened."

"Yeah, well, she's nosy. But I like her."

He got a grin. "I noticed. Well. Have a good night."

Jack nodded as he stood to go inside. "Yeah. You, too." He locked the door, then turned to the two girls sitting on his couch. "Who wants a pizza?"

"Pimeapple!" Susie squealed, and her mispronunciation made Jack laugh a little. "I want pimeapple, Jack!"

"All right, pimeapple it is. Janet?"

She still looked like she was on the verge of tears, but maybe they were tears of relief. "Uh, yeah, that's cool. Uhm, is extra cheese okay?"

"Yeah, I like cheese." He flipped through his contacts to find the phone number that Rachel had set. "Thick crust?"

"Yeah!" Susie put in, excited to be having a sleep over on a school night.

"Okay, then. There are some games in the hall closet upstairs, Janet. Second shelf only. Why don't you two find one we can play?" Yeah, kids liked games. Jack liked games. They'd play, eat pizza, then go to bed. He could do this. He and Rachel had a game night every once in a while, after all, except tonight there wasn't going to be strip-anything. Oh, well. He'd cope, he decided as he ordered their pizza.

Then the girls were running back into the living room, bickering over which game to play first, and he decided maybe he'd cope with an aspirin or two.