Hey, it's a new chapter! Dana's got more romantic options than she knows what to do with...

Beta'ed by the lovely WtchCool.

- o – o -

Chapter Twelve: Distractions

Dana honestly worried about Trip's friends, some days. Oh, Gerry was alright, even with his fascination with the supernatural. It was Liz who bothered her, though. The girl had befriended Trip almost automatically; that, in and of itself, was a little suspicious. That Liz was also the daughter of Palm City's second most notorious criminal was worrisome to the extreme.

But that little fact wasn't what was bothering her. No, that was reserved for the bouquet of flowers on her kitchen table. Liz had come over the day before with Trip and Gerry, and had brought the massive bouquet of flowers with her. The nine-year-old had informed her that her father had sent them for Mrs. Faraday.

If she didn't know better, she might have suspected that her son's best friend was trying to set her up with Scales. Unfortunately, she couldn't concentrate on that at the moment because she had work and her boss to deal with. (Honestly, taking up with Scales would be preferable—at least he wasn't trying the "comfort the grieving widow" routine…)

She also had to figure out what she was going to do about the Cape. He was…well, possessive was a good term to apply to him. The vigilante was always concerned for her safety, and he did seem to want to form some kind of relationship with her, but it was like something was holding him back from doing so. Dana wanted to believe that was because he was Vince's friend, but something about that scenario seemed a bit off. At least her vigilante wasn't a criminal like Scales, or a sleaze like her boss…

Dana sighed and shoved the last of her papers into her briefcase; relationships were becoming way too complicated these days. And besides, she had work to finish, and that meant digging through the archives on a Saturday morning when she could be at home, drinking coffee and watching the news. The public defender checked on her son on her way out of the apartment, smiling as she saw him curled around a stuffed alligator. She had a pretty good idea who was responsible for that one.

Half an hour later, Dana was cursing rush hour traffic and doing her best not to hammer her fist into the horn as hard as possible. It never helped, no matter how much she wanted it to. It was cathartic, though, and… Damn. Dana sighed and beat her forehead into the steering wheel. The third ambulance in the past hour had driven past, heading for what was apparently holding up traffic. If she'd walked, she could have been at the office by now…

Dana grumbled something under her breath and cracked open her book. Since traffic hadn't moved in the past ten or twelve minutes, she could try to finish the first chapter…

- o – o -

Trip slouched out of his room, wondering if his mother had left any coffee for him. He knew it wasn't exactly healthy for a growing boy, but he was addicted anyways. (And avoiding topping six-and-a-half feet in height would be completely worth the caffeine.)

There was a fresh pot waiting for him in the kitchen, with a note from his mother taped to his mug. Trip glowered at the note, which admonished him to drink a little less—or at least add milk to his coffee, because god knew he wasn't getting enough calcium. He stuffed the note into his pocket all the same. The ten-year-old poured a mug of coffee and headed back to the den to watch cartoons and scheme. The Lich was going to be making his move soon, and that was bad.

The ten-year-old was halfway through reruns of the Animaniacs when someone knocked on the door. Trip considered pretending he wasn't there, but realized that the cartoons (blasting at full volume because his neighbors were pretty much deaf, and Gerry was out of the building for the next few hours) kind of negated that idea. Telling them to go away probably wouldn't work either, because they were probably here to talk to his mother.

He sighed and put his mug down on the coffee table, before walking over to the door. Standing on his stack of phonebooks, the ten-year-old looked out into the hallway. Trip felt his heart plummet to the vicinity of his shoes. Two months ago, when they'd first begun plotting, Trip would have given anything for Jack Kirchner to show up out of the blue. But now that Liz was pushing their parents together—mostly in an attempt to get Vince to stop being an idiot, and get Scales to be a bit more conscientious about the civilian population of Palm City—it was incredibly bad timing.

"Who are you?" Trip asked, staring at Jack.

"I'm Jack Kirchner. Is Dana Faraday here?" Jack replied, smiling.

"Can I take a message?" Trip asked, stalling for time. This was not a good thing. This was far from a good thing, in fact. If Scales hadn't sent a bouquet of flowers yesterday, he would have felt a lot better about letting Jack in. Seeing as Scales had this jealousy issue (he'd heard all about it from Liz), he was afraid for Jack's continued existence.

"Can you let her know that I stopped by?" Jack asked. Trip nodded, and was about to respond when the phone rang.

"Hang on," Trip muttered, before slamming the peephole shut. He hopped off the stack of books and headed over to the phone. "Yeah? Mom? No way, I'm fine! Wait…" Trip frowned, lips pursing in annoyance. That wasn't good. He was going to have to mention Travis's interest to Liz, who would (hopefully) pass it on to Scales. Okay, so those raging jealousy issues were good for something. "Hey mom, guess who's standing out… No! It's not Scales! I'd have let him in if that was the case."

He paused, and waited for his mother's reply. It wasn't exactly charitable towards Scales, but it was funny. "Mom, it's Jack Kirchner. …How do I know about him? Well, you could hide your law school yearbook a bit better."

Trip held the phone away from his ear. That wasn't going to end well…. He was grounded.

"Okay, I'll let him in. And give him coffee."

The ten-year-old hopped back up on his stack of books after hanging up. "Mom said you can come in." He unlocked the door and let the lawyer in before the man could process anything. Jack came into the apartment and sat down on the couch. Trip looked over and bit his lower lip, forcing back some old memories. He'd seen Jack sitting like that once before—he'd been sixteen, and had run away from home.

Vince had just died for real, shot to death by ARK troops while he was trying to protect people. Trip had been out driving when he'd almost literally run into his father. The teenager had thrown caution to the wind and done what his dad had told him stories about—courage under fire to rescue teammates. The funeral three days later had been teary and there had been no shortage of stories about the Cape and his adventures. Patrick Portman had even shown up to give the eulogy, although he'd been there incognito—like the majority of the people who'd come. Given that Vince Faraday was supposed to be dead, the carnival had waited until sundown before going to the graveyard to put Vince's body in the grave his wife had purchased seven years before.

Trip had spent the next few days locked in his room and screaming at his mother and much-hated stepfather every time they knocked. Eventually, he'd packed a bag and left through the window, heading for Trolley Park. A week after he'd run away, he ran into Jack Kirchner—thankfully not with a car.

One thing had led to another, and Jack had helped him get emancipated. It helped that Jack hated Travis almost as much as Trip did (although Trip hated his stepfather because the bastard had tried to send him to a boarding school run by a group known for abusing the students). After that, Trip had utilized Jack's services more than once when he needed legal help for the carnival, who'd taken him in after his father's death.

Trip jerked himself out of the memory, suddenly aware that he'd been staring at Jack. He coughed, rubbing the back of his neck. The start of an embarrassed blush was starting across his nose and cheeks.

"Um…would you like some coffee, Mr. Kirchner?" Trip asked, breaking the awkward silence.

Jack studied him for a few minutes, before nodding. "That would be wonderful. Thank you."

The ten-year-old scurried out of the den to get some coffee.

- o – o -

Dana was almost relieved when she finished getting the files she needed from the archive. Protecting people from ARK was nothing new, but this was the first time she'd had to protect someone with a history of being on the wrong side of law enforcement. If she was lucky, though, she could talk her client into wearing his hair in a more sedate manner—without colors or odd styles—on his court date. Although why she even had to defend someone who'd only double-parked his car was beyond her, but that was ARK. Bastards….

She drove home, going over the case mentally. She could get her client off with a fine, but the issue of him mooning an ARK officer was going to be a bit trickier… (And Dana was positive she was going to need a hell of a lot of Tylenol during the hearing.)

The public defender let herself into the building, still focused on legal matters. Dana was pretty sure she was forgetting something, but decided it'd come back to her later if it was important. As soon as she opened the door, she realized what it was: Jack. She'd forgotten that Jack had come by three hours ago.

Dana leaned against the doorframe, watching her old teacher trying to beat her son at a video game. Trip was beating him, which wasn't a surprise. The public defender wished she had a camera, because this was practically blackmail gold. Not that she'd actually blackmail Jack, of course…

"Hi mom!" Trip said, ruining the moment. He paused the game, much to Jack's relief. "How come you never told me how cool lawyers were?"

Dana laughed at that.

- o – o -

So, what did you think? Good? Bad? Any thoughts on who you want Dana to end up with? Drop a line and let me know!