Sorry about the long wait on this. I needed a little help getting motivated, but once I finally did, I wrote this baby in a little over a day. I hope you enjoy, and please, keep reviewing! (They're a big part of my motivation.)

"Wha—?" Pascal all but yelped as she, too, caught sight of the man. "That—Richard?"

Richard's, or at least his look-alike's, eyes narrowed. The expression was so unlike anything Asbel had ever seen from his old friend that he found himself drawing back unconsciously. Maybe he was wrong? But the features—even Pascal saw it! Even had he not known Richard in the past, and admittedly that counted for little so many years later, this was still the man from the tabloids.

"Richard…is that you?" he finally ventured. He was ashamed of how his voice cracked partway through, and the hoarse note to it, but he held his gaze steady. Around them, the quiet bustle of the early morning continued. A server kicked a chair a few feet away, and two tables away, someone dropped a spoon onto his plate. He was oblivious to it all. All he saw was Richard.

The man glanced at Asbel's discarded uniform jacket, and then his gaze moved to Asbel's face. "That depends on why you wish to know," was all Richard said. The voice was right, too. As head of the city's most influential family, Richard had been interviewed countless times, and there was no mistaking that rich baritone.

"It's…it's Asbel?" he offered weakly. "Don't you remember me?"

Another, almost accusatory glance to his uniform. "I do."

"Brother—"

Asbel ignored Hubert. "I've…I missed you…"

"Did you."

Richard's flat, emotionless responses were unnerving and disheartening, but Asbel had always been too stubborn for his own good. "Well, yeah. We were such good friends, and…and…" He trailed off weakly, shrugging with a half-hearted smile.

"That was then, this is now."

"Yeah, well.."

"Asbel—"

He ignored the warning note in Pascal's tone, too. "Well, that doesn't mean we can't…"

"Is there a point to this conversation?" Richard demanded.

Asbel's eyes widened, and he glanced back to his brother, who frowned and shook his head. Ever stubborn, he turned back to Richard. "Can…we not be friends again?"

A silent glance to his uniform, and Asbel's face fell. The message was clear. Richard did not trust him; did not trust his intentions. A hand moved to rest on his elbow, and Asbel shook it off. "That's not…! Richard, that's not why!"

"Is it not?" Richard's voice was soft, but firm. "You say it is merely coincidence that you appear, wanting to rekindle an old friendship, right as the police are beginning to show a…vested interest in me and mine?"

Well, the interest had been there for years, but Asbel did not think it would do any good for him to say that. He decided to try anyway, furrowing his brows and fidgeting a bit in his seat. "I…I've wanted to for a long time, Richard! I just…" He sighed, dropping his gaze. How was he supposed to explain that now it felt imperative that they reunite?

He also had never had this chance. He opened his mouth to say as much, but at the moment a tall, gruff-looking blond man stepped up to them. The man was dressed in a crisp-looking suit, and sported equally-blond facial hair, neatly trimmed in the anchor style. Asbel was certain he had seen the man before.

"Sir? The limo is out front."

"Thank you, Malik," Richard replied, standing stiffly.

"Wait, Richard!" Asbel called, half-rising himself. The threat of Richard leaving made him forget all about the newcomer.

Richard turned back to him, expression once again tired. Silence descended for a long moment, and finally Richard sighed. "If you have nothing to say, I will be leaving."

"Well, I…you see…"

"Farewell, Asbel."

"Wait!" Richard did not so much as glance back. The man, Malik, tailed him out. The door clicked shut behind them.

Dropping back into his seat, Asbel sighed.

"I tried to warn you, Brother."

"Not really in the mood for 'I told you so' right now, Hubert." Resting his elbows on the table, Asbel dropped his head into his hands.

An awkward silence settled over the table, and by the time their food finally came, Asbel had little appetite remaining. Luckily for him—though perhaps luck was a matter of perspective—Pascal was with them, and she all but shovelled his food down his throat for him.

"Enough o' this depression!" Pascal finally chirped, throwing her fork down. Or maybe it was Asbel's—he did not really know at this point. "T'day should be a happy day!"

Hubert chuckled softly. "Yes. It's mother's birthday."

Asbel started. Right, that was today. Working all night had skewed his perception of time.

"I guess…we should head home and try to get some sleep," he said, chuckling softly.

"That would be wise."

With that mutual agreement, they packed up. It was Asbel's turn to pay the tab, so he did so, before dragging himself to his car to head home. He had time for a few hours of sleep before it was time to go back to work…

Providing he could actually get to sleep. That meeting was weighing heavily on his mind, and he did not think it would be easy to shake it and find rest, regardless of how tired he was. He had to try, though. It was going to be an exciting evening, and he wanted to be rested for it. His six-year-old demanded it.

Pulling into the driveway, he dragged himself inside and up the stairs. Kicking off his pants, he threw his jacket on a hanger, shed his belt and shirt, and fell into bed. Maybe he could sleep, maybe not, but he would not if he did not try.

Richard could not believe how much that had hurt. Seated in his chair, at his desk, he swivelled slowly to and fro, staring up at the ceiling as he contemplated the meeting earlier. His mind wholly entranced in his thoughts, making him oblivious to the sparse decorations in the room around him—he had never really taken the time to make this office his. It felt wrong to do so. The only thing he had done for him, really, aside from removing his uncle's things, had been to install heavy-duty, blackout shades.

The room itself was painted in a dark grey, with black footboards and black carpeting. Lighting in the room was minimal, it had been even before he had taken over, and overall the room had an eternally-dark feel to it.

Aside from his desk, two other chairs were pushed up against the wall, for use in the event of meetings. An old picture of his father hung on the wall, a stark reminder of the man who had once ruled here, and a mirror hung on the wall directly across from Richard. To allow him to see any hands wandering behind backs.

He hated the room. It was boring, it was dark…it was awful. He had not liked it during his father's reign, and his uncle had made it worse. Now…now he had the chance to fix it up, but that was not something he could do, now was it? No, he was firmly tied to this post.

Richard closed his eyes. His thoughts were in turmoil ever since he had seen Asbel again. He could not believe his childhood friend was a cop. Except…he could, of course; he had known that. He had kept tabs on the brothers, ever since he had been given the means to do so eight years before, and what he had learned…

Hubert had chosen this path for himself. The younger Lhant had been aiming for the force from before Richad had started keeping tabs on them. It was hard to reconcile the cowardly boy Richard had met with the firm teenager Hubert had grown into, but Richard was, secretly, very proud of him. He had come a long way from the snivelling boy who had begged to go home from camp.

Asbel…was another story. When Richard had first tracked down details on the Lhants, it had been only months before Asbel's wedding. Back then, Asbel had had no clear goals that Richard could discern. He had simply been your average twenty-one-year-old, unsure of his path, but running headfirst down it anyway.

One thing had been clear, however, and that was his fondness for the girl, Cheria. What Richard had dug up on her had not been a comfort. Oh, not because he thought she was a bad person—in fact, it was just the opposite. She was perfect. Excellent grades, hard worker, impressive record; he could find no flaw in her anywhere, unless one counted physical disability. She was frail by nature, some sort of heart condition. It was controlled, however, and just a little over a year after their wedding, she gave birth to a healthy baby girl.

Richard…had been jealous. It was no spontaneous decision to look Asbel up. No, he had done it out of some foolish desire to reconnect with the past, one he had silently harboured for a decade. He wanted Asbel for himself, and he knew that was wrong. So, upon hearing about the wedding, he had forced himself to make absolutely no effort to reconnect. It was easier to simply watch from a distance.

Safer for Asbel, too. Or so he had thought at the time, anyway.

Not two months after the birth of their daughter, Sophie, Asbel and Cheria were out on the town one evening. Why, Richard had no idea, but a young couple? It was easy enough to imagine why they might want to have a night out together. In the end, those specifics really did not matter anyway.

It had not been a crime of malice, not really. It had been a mugging, as far as Richard could tell. Nothing more had been intended, Richard suspected, except the assailant had panicked and attacked. The man had stabbed them both. Asbel had survived, Cheria…had not been so lucky. Richard did not know the specifics on that, either, but he had not needed to dig at all to hear of her passing on the news.

Richard tried to keep his own feelings out of the mix when he had learned that news—aside from, maybe, ordering the person who had done it hunted down and slaughtered. He had, however, also…seen his chance. Asbel had been such a good friend, a kind young man. He had wanted to meet him again. To reconnect at last.

And then, Asbel had joined the police academy. It was in that moment that Richard had given up hope. He could not pursue this. It had only ever been a foolish dream left over from childhood, anyway. So, he had stepped back and satisfied himself with keeping half an eye on the man. It was, he had thought, the best he could do.

Now, Asbel had found him. Over the years, the police had been closing in on him. It was one of those situations, however, where he had too much power in the city, and the police not enough, so he had been able to avoid them thus far. Occasionally, one of his people would be brought in, and he would bail them out. It was a cyclical series of events that rarely changed.

Except, now a team was focussed on him, and while Richard himself never committed any crimes directly, he doubted a jury would see it that way if he was ever actually taken to trial. By some sick twist of fate, Asbel and Hubert were part of that team.

In light of that, it seemed like a no-brainer to him, why Asbel would suddenly approach him. No matter how much the thought hurt, and hurt it did, he could not deny the logic in that thought. Asbel was coming after him to bring him in.

Richard groaned, pressing fingers to his temples as he did so. Another migraine was imminent. There was absolutely no avoiding it after today, not after that reunion. How morbidly ironic it was that after years of refraining from hunting down and reuniting with Asbel, the other man was coming for him. Too bad their intentions were so different. It would never end well.