6

Note: No offense to anyone here, but I started writing this because there are so few interesting stories for this fandom. And then I read ahead about future shows and realized my story idea will parallel the show in some ways. I hadn't intended to play the Blackwell card, but then I figured, what the hell? Might as well throw some of that into the mix. I think it's more about not letting power corrupt you and being true to yourself.

Adam returned home to find Diana waiting for him outside. "We need to talk."

He'd been waiting to hear those words. "God, I'm so glad..."

Diana interrupted. "Not about us."

He shrugged. "OK, about what then?"

She nodded over her shoulder toward the blonde strangers. "Them."

Adam could hear the fear in her voice. "What's bothering you?"

She was wringing her hands as she walked away from the front door. "They're related to Cassie."

He had a really bad feeling about this. "Through Jane?"

"Not exactly." Dancing around the subject wasn't helping.

Adam wasn't sure if he wanted to hug her or shake her. "Through Blackwell?"

"Yes. They're from another branch of the Balcoin family tree."

Of course they were. "How convenient."

"Faye talked to them for awhile, and then took off."

That wasn't like Faye. "She never backs down from a fight."

"See, that's the weird thing. I don't think they mean us any harm."

He smiled. "Is this one of your gut feelings?"

Diana looked back toward the restaurant. "Not just mine."

Adam peered through the front window and was slightly stunned to see the blonde woman cozying up to his Dad. "Oh, God, it's the alcohol talking."

"He hasn't touched a drop since she got here," Diana said, touching his arm in reassurance.

Adam found that hard to believe. "Then it's a love spell."

"Maybe, but it's not hers."

"But she's a Balcoin."

"With a cross around her neck?"

Adam shrugged. "I don't know, Diana. None of this makes any sense."

She sighed. "I better go before my Dad reams me."

He nodded. "Maybe I'll see you tomorrow." Diana always came to the Boathouse for coffee on Saturdays.

"Maybe. Goodnight, Adam." With a half-hearted wave, she backed away and got into her car.

Adam watched her drive away and knew they were no closer to resolving their differences. Maybe they never would.