Thanks to hippiechick2112, Melissa hearts fiction, ellie, and kristelalugo for reviewing! As to writing Hank, I really like him, but I never feel fully up to writing him. I can't get inside his head, because it's too big and moving too fast!

Ruth had suggested that, in the full spirit of spring break, they subsist entirely off of delivery food, eat off paper plates and use plastic cutlery. There would be as few dishes to wash as possible. But Charles looked so horrified at the thought of plastic cutlery, she laughed it off.

She was still tired of doing the dishes. She stood at the sink, scrubbing a plate, but thinking about that. The kids could take over. Or Hank, although Hank would clog the drain some with blue fur—not that Ruth would say this. She knew he felt self-conscious about his fur.

Ruth ignored the raised voices from the other room, but as soon as she heard the first punch, she set down the dish and hurried into the dining room.

"Don't be such a girl!"

"Cut it out!"

Scott and Ororo were supposed to be clearing the table. In a way, they had done that, but Ruth did not mean she wanted plates smashed on the floor. Nor was Scott meant to be throwing Ororo into the wall—not that she was terribly surprised, Ororo would fight mean but Scott had better skills. As their martial arts instructor, she wasn't terribly surprised.

"Enough!"

But very nice tai sabaki.

And Ruth had spent too long trying to make Scott spar with Ororo. She never wanted it to be this violent, but he was not comfortable fighting a girl. She wanted him to understand that a woman might attack him. Defending yourself against any attacker is right.

It was over in two seconds, when Scott knocked Ororo down and she failed to throw up an arm bar.

"Enough," Ruth repeated, hauling Scott up and twisting his arm back.

"It's not me!" he objected. "It's not—"

Ororo scrambled to her feet and did something that, while allowed in krav maga, had always been excluded from Ruth's lessons: went to punch him in the groin. Ruth momentarily dropped Scott's arm, restrained Ororo, and had each of them by the scruff of the neck in seconds.

After a few moments' thought, realizing only one of the children was struggling, Ruth released Scott. "Go into the kitchen, finish the dishes."

He nodded and went.

She pressed Ororo into a chair. Ororo started to get up and Ruth rested a hand heavily on her shoulder. "Shvi."

Ororo shouted at her in Arabic, the sort of things Charles would have grounded her for once he overcame the shock of what she suggested he, his grandmother, and his thrice-damned sister had done with various barnyard animals. (He was not Welsh.) So it was wise to use a language he would not understand.

"You are finished now?" Ruth asked.

"No," Ororo retorted. She crossed her arms over her chest and shouted again.

Ruth suppressed a sigh. This was going to be difficult enough. Once she had picked through this mess, she needed to talk to Ororo about wearing a bra.

Tomorrow.

For now, Ruth shouted back. The two of them snapped at, to, and over each other until it wasn't words but syllables, sounds, tones. Until finally abruptly, Ororo went quiet.

"You need to tell me what is going on."

"Nothing's going on, I'm fine," Ororo replied, not at all convincingly.

Ruth looked her up and down. The girl wasn't moving right, wasn't focusing well, and Ruth realized at once what was going on. How had they overlooked this?

"When is the last time you slept through the night?"

Ororo didn't answer.

"Are you hurt?"

No answer. Didn't need one. Ruth had trained Scott, she knew he took cares to avoid causing harm. He would have been especially careful with his sister.

She formed her question to annoy Ororo: "Why did you start the fight?"

Ororo glared, but didn't answer.

Ruth sighed. She looked past Ororo and nodded at the man in the doorway. Of course the commotion had attracted Charles. His power could be particularly useful in this area. When he nodded, Ruth turned back to Ororo.

"Tomorrow is your birthday. Whatever you do, there will be cake and presents and we will sing you a silly song. So, I think, you should decide how you want to feel." Then she leaned forward and kissed Ororo's forehead.

And Ororo hated her for it, because with three sentences and one gentle move, Ruth destroyed everything. It was so much easier being angry. Now Ororo felt sorry and, worse, she felt loved.

It made her blush.

She sighed. "Three weeks, I think. A few nights were better."

"Not since the attack," Ruth summarized.

Ororo nodded. She had been the first one to spot the Brotherhood. Everyone fought them and, at times, Ororo and Scott had been separated from the others. They fought the Brotherhood alone. But Ororo was the one to spot them, to be truly alone and vulnerable and unprepared.

"I'm okay until it's dark and I'm alone. Then I get scared—because someone might be outside. They could be. And I want to check, I'm afraid to check but more afraid not to. Nothing you can say will make this better," Ororo warned. She didn't want to be scared like that, but she was and it was a perfectly reasonable fear. It was possible. It had happened.

Ruth didn't say anything to help. She leaned forward and hugged Ororo, held her for a while.

"This will be put right."

Ororo shook her head. Her fingers went to her neck. She felt her pulse under the scar there. "No. It can't."

"The Brotherhood won't come back," Charles said. Ruth shot him a less than grateful look. Ororo did not look at him at all. "They're in custody, Ororo. The CIA won't just let them go."

"And?" Ruth asked.

Now Ororo did look between them. She didn't remember her real parents; she was five when they died. Later she lived with a group of thieves and beggars, children, with their thief-lord Achmed. No one questioned Achmed... although now that she thought about it, she was not sure how old he had really been. Among the Maasai, she answered mostly to a woman named Ainet, but really to no one.

So it was new for her to watch Mommy and Daddy fight. She didn't like the feeling.

There was no winning here. Finally Charles lowered his eyes. "And they have my sister."

Ororo swallowed. In Arabic, she told Ruth, "You looked like you wanted to kill her."

Ruth looked right at Charles as she answered, in English, "I did."

"I wish you had. Then she would never come back."