Liam entered the seaside cottage a few hours before dawn, his eyes bleary from trying to balance the till and complete the inventory reports for Zelena. Yet there was a satisfied smirk to his features as he shucked his coat and shoes at the door and padded toward the refrigerator for a bottle of water. Only a dim light from above the sink lit up the dark wooded space, but he moved expertly about to avoid Henry's game controller on the ground and someone's book that had toppled off the chair arm where it had been left.

"You don't have to be so quiet," a voice said from the doorway to the master bedroom. "Killian can sleep like the dead and Henry's not a light sleeper either."

"It would seem I have already woken you," he answered, blinking into the shadows to confirm that she was actually awake. "I do apologize."

"Already awake," she excused, stepping into the room after pulling the bedroom door shut behind her. "So I'm going to guess that you aren't exactly thrilled at the idea of going up there alone tonight?"

He shrugged, not sure that he could put into words the battle in his brain at that moment. Yes, Elsa was safe and snuggly tucked away in her sister's home with Kristoff and some bodyguard to watch her. He didn't begrudge her that or even feel neglected by her need for a little sisterly time. However, he did miss her and want her in his arms where he could feel both close to her and needed. "Just planning to unwind a bit from work."

She nodded in return, passing him to dig in the cupboard for a bottle and two tumblers. "This usually helps." She deposited the items on the counter, raising an eyebrow at him in challenge. "You're the one with experience. I was just suggesting."

"I'm sure I didn't anticipate sharing a drink with my brother's betrothed, but if the lady insists." He poured the amber liquid into the glasses, quirking up a smile when she pushed her glass closer to signal she wanted more. "What are we drinking to?"

Scrunching her nose, she lifted her glass in anticipation. "To late night insomnia?"

"Hardly a thing to celebrate, lass. What about to…odd family relationships?"

"I don't think that's much to celebrate either?"

He chuckled, lowering his own tumbler a quarter of an inch. "To cheap booze and late nights. May they always coincide." She must have agreed, as she moved her own glass toward his, repeating his words as they clinked and then downed the fiery first gulp.

"I put some fresh towels upstairs for you and for Elsa when she gets back. I hope…I know this isn't where you want to be…"

"Emma, I think we both know that I'd rather be with Elsa right now. Happily tucked away in our condo with her complaining about schedules and me about her cold feet that she never seems to notice. I know why we're or I'm here. But it isn't about not wanting to be, Emma. I'm happy here. It's home. Killian's my brother and you are practically my sister now."

She took another sip, closing her eyes as the liquid burned her throat. "So then why do you constantly look like you're ready to throw your arms up and surrender to this stalker? Because I need to figure out if you're planning some suicidal protection move before I finalize these security plans."

Half breathing and half laughing, he shook his head. "I should be able to protect her myself. I feel every bit a fool to be sitting here in your home, putting you, your son, and my brother in danger because…"

Emma's hair fell over her shoulders in tangles as she reached out to grasp Liam's free hand. "You do realize that your loving Elsa doesn't mean that you are Superman, right? You can't protect her from everything."

"I can bloody well try." He tried to pull away, but her grip was as strong as his. "It's my job. My responsibility."

Emma's eyes studied him carefully, seeing the faintest resemblance between the two brothers. They both had their mother's blue eyes, Killian's a deeper shade and Liam's lighter. Their jawlines were both solid and striking. Killian's nose and ears were more pronounced, though Liam's mouth was fuller. Even Liam's hair was a softer shade of brown and curly by comparison. But Emma knew that their mother must have seen them both so similarly, a mother finding commonalities where there aren't always any. "I know that's important to you. You've always done that for Killian. You protected him from your father. You protected him from himself after the accident and Milah died. That's what big brothers do, isn't it? It's kind of like being a parent only without the age and label."

"She hates needing my protection," Liam mused softly. "You know how she is about those things. She wants to be loved and respected. Like the two are mutually exclusive. My loving her and wanting to protect her are not an insult to her independence. But I fear she will see it that way."

"She's more afraid for you right now. You're the one this guy seems to be gunning for. You're the one who had his tires slashed. It's not even about her in her head." She felt his hand go slack for a moment, seemingly responding to her comforting gesture.

"Doesn't make it any easier. She's stubborn." He looked down at her hand covering his. "A bit like you I would think. Killian says you are anyway. I think it does him good to have you around challenging him. He's a bit hard on himself sometimes. And I don't think you stand for any wallowing."

She felt her cheeks burn with the embarrassment of his compliment. "I don't know if I have a big brother or even a sibling at all. But if I did, I would want him to be like you. From what Killian tells me, you were as good as any father could be. And I don't see any reason to doubt him. He shows that same love and kindness to Henry. He had to learn it somewhere."

"You're a kind lass to give me such credit, but I would disagree. We all have strength in us to do what we have to do when we have to do it. I don't know all the details of your hellish childhood, but from what I have heard you would understand that as I do." He rocked forward toward her. "For what it is worth, you have taken up the cause quite well."

"We'll call it a draw," she said, releasing his hand and reaching for the bottle again. "So one protective person to another, can I ask a favor?"

"I doubt that my saying no would stop you," he replied brusquely. "And I think I already know what you were going to say. You wish for me to have some security bloke following me about this town too."

"Well, yeah," she admitted, topping off his tumbler too. "I know you seem to think you know who is doing this, but what if you're wrong? The security men we hire are not obtrusive. Yes, it feels a little weird, but…"

"I should give in because Elsa did so easily?"

"She agreed to it partially because of you. She's still sure this is a rabid fan who just wants attention. She's feeling guilty, Liam." Emma flinched as she recalled the quiet admission from her friend and client, the shattered façade as she admitted her worry that she had done something to cause the disarray in her life.

"She's wrong. I remain certain this is my half-brother's doing, retaliation for my ignoring our father's pleas and essentially turning my back on the rest of my family. Killian has probably informed you of how hurtful our father's betrayal of our mother and even us has been. I have no regrets of ignoring my father's request for medical assistance. The bastard has no place in my life. But if my decision to tow the hard line on that has in fact brought danger to Elsa…well, that is something I regret. She is innocent of my actions and shouldn't suffer for them."

"I don't think she sees it that way," Emma said calmly, her glass now untouched. "I know that I wouldn't see it that way if Killian was in your shoes. I'd want him to be protected. Hell, if you're right that it is your half-brother, I'm going to encourage Killian to be protected too."

"Might not be such a terrible idea," Liam mused. "But Emma, we can guard ourselves and create security all we want, but it's a false hope. We can't remain vigilant forever. It's against human nature."

***AAA***

Elsa had insisted that the sofa was a comfortable enough bed for her that night, not wanting to displace Kristoff from the larger bed and knowing her former room was now the sight of still unassembled baby furniture and various good buys for the little one's arrival. Anna had volunteered to sleep in the chair so they could continue their sisterly bonding; but that had seemed cruel for a pregnant woman so Elsa refused.

Turning onto her side, Elsa stared into the darkness of the room that had once seemed so familiar to her. The furniture was the same, the muted tones of greens, blues, and mauves that did not distract from the beautiful forest views from the windows. Some things differed slightly. There were photos of Anna with Kristoff, with Elsa, and various friends all around. Table surfaces were littered with the memories of a clearly happy life. On the fireplace mantle were two framed photos that were prominently displayed, including the girls' parents in a formal setting and Kristoff's parents in the second frame.

Staring at the hazy shot of her parents, barely illuminated by a light from the kitchen, she wondered for the millionth time what life would be like if they were still there. She was sure they would have loved Kristoff for all his rough edges. He did truly love Anna, and would make a wonderful father for their child. Perhaps they would have loved Liam too, knowing that he was responsible for the happiness that their older daughter felt. No, he wasn't the businessman her father had envisioned for her, but he was good and decent, truly loving her.

"I hope you'd be proud of us," Elsa whispered, her arms folding under the pillow. It had been months since she had last visited their graves or spoken to them in a whispered hush. It seemed odd, especially after years of feeling like a disappointment to them for so long. She had never felt at home with her mother's socialite status or her father's drive for domination. And while Anna did not seem to either, Anna's easy nature was more palatable to almost everyone. Elsa's own quiet nature seemed overshadowed by her sister at times, something that left her craving some sort of note of approval that had never come.

Not wanting to have her sister and brother-in-law hear her speak to dead people, Elsa let sleep come and overtake her. It was not a comfortable slumber, as she woke several times that could not be explained away by sounds of traffic or neighbors. She missed her bed, the comfort and softness of the sheets that seemed like silk on her skin. But most of all she missed Liam, his lazy kisses across her skin, the way he would hold her to him as if he was frightened she might disappear on the spot.

Blinking at the clock on her phone, she hesitated. He was working that night, but was surely back at Killian and Emma's. She hoped he was sleeping better than she was, enjoying the airy guest room at his brother's. But something in her told her that he was probably as sleepless as she was, the stubborn man refusing to disturb her. Pounding out a text message, she did not have to wait long for his reply.

Liam: You have turned a captain into a cuddler, darling. You should be ashamed.

Elsa: Proud actually. I miss you.

Liam: We are only six kilometers apart at most. Five is more likely.

Elsa: Too far. I'm thinking of sneaking out.

Liam: You're far from quiet, lass. You'll wake your sister and shock your brother-in-law when you trip over something and shatter a vase.

Elsa: Are you calling me clumsy?

Liam: I wouldn't dare. But think of your poor guard. He is probably settled in for a quiet night. And your sneaking out would require him to follow.

Elsa: I hate him.

Liam: No, you don't. You hate this situation. As do I, darling.

She cradled the phone in her hands, holding it above herself as she closed her eyes to the incessant glow.

Elsa: I do. I hate not feeling safe. I don't even know who it is who is trying to hurt you. But I hate him for making me feel this way. If something happens to you, I'll never forgive him or myself.

Liam: Stop thinking that. I love you. I don't want you to ever think that this is your fault. If it is anyone's it's mine. I can't text this. I'm going to call you.

Within seconds he was on the phone with her, his voice loving and kind in her ear, but with a tinge of regret and fear. He told her of his younger brother and his fear that this was somehow at his hands. She assured him they would overcome, but it was not until he said goodnight that he truly wondered if it would ever be the same again.

***AAA***

Liam considered grabbing one of the books on the low shelf near the window. The thought of losing himself in someone else's words and story was tempting to say the least. However, he was a practical man and knew that whittling away the hours with a good book would be a temporary fix to a larger problem. He needed sleep for all the things he had to do. Decisions were going to have to be made and tasks completed, things that would require a clear mind.

Yet even in the dark room with the soft pillows cradling his head, he found no respite from his mind. Flashes of his father were mixed with those of Elsa suffering at his own hand. His younger brother, a lad he had not seen other than in photographs, seemed angry and accusatory as he pushed at Liam's insecurities about being a brother and good man. That barrage of images and words would have been considered a nightmare by sane people, but his eyes were wide open and his mind aware of their inaccuracy.

"Liam?"

He sat up in the bed, his head almost scraping the sloped ceiling and the blankets pooling around his waist. His mind's scenes playing had seemed normal, but hearing that familiar voice was enough to make him consider a Thorazine drip. He waited for the sound to repeat, almost not noticing the soft patter on the stairs. Then he heard it again.

"Liam?"

"Elsa?" he asked, glancing toward where his phone was charging by the bed. Its screen was dark and silent, indicating he had not accidentally called her. He hoped his voice was welcoming enough if that was indeed her, though he didn't want to sound too crazy.

Her tall form appeared in the doorway, backlit by the light from the stairwell. "Are you asleep?"

"Perhaps dreaming if that's really you, darling." He blinked furiously as he flipped on the bedside lamp. "I know I just saw you hours ago, but it feels like longer."

She shimmied out of the coat, revealing that she was still wearing the borrowed pajamas from her sister. His smirk reminded her as much and she snickered in response. "Okay so my clothes were still in Anna and Kristoff's room so I wore pajamas. I didn't want to wake them up. I left a note to tell them where I went. This way the only ones disturbed were you and my guard."

"Your guard must not be very happy with you for sneaking away." His smile widened as she joined him under the covers. Despite her ability to ignore the cold, her nose was freezing, as were her hands as she clung to him for a full 30 seconds before kissing him gently.

"Anna and I baked cookies. I gave him some before I told him I was leaving."

"And that seemed to pacify him?" Liam goaded, blindly reaching for the light to bathe them back in the darkness.

"More or less. He didn't lecture me. He just followed me here and is currently parked on the street, probably reading a magazine and looking for all things that go bump in the night." Yawning behind her hand, she settled in beside him, tucking her feet in between his legs. "Can we please quit discussing this guy? I would rather not think that much about him. I missed you and didn't think I could get a good night's sleep without you. Is that so horrible?"

"You always get your way, darling. It's impossible to deny you. Especially a bloke like me." He let the fresh scent of her blonde tresses tickle his nose as she relaxed.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," she said, challenging back. "I like being right. I like getting my own way."

"Aye, and I you have a willing participant in that with me, darling. I love you."

"Love you too," she muttered, falling asleep before he could say much more.

***AAA***

About an hour later Emma scanned over the screen of her tablet, noting the changes to the document that she needed to make but careful not to wake Killian beside her. When she had come home with tears still stinging her eyes, she had expected to distract herself in the latest drama in his life or Henry's, allowing her to ignore the bitter words with Neal. Despite the laughter and levity with Liam, the mood grew more somber as she found herself staring into his troubled eyes over a shared drink.

"I suppose I don't own the title to troubled childhoods," she had told him as he mused over his father's apparent illness and his younger brother's possible involvement in the dangerous situation. "I'm sorry I have been blind to yours."

He had waved off the apology and insisted that he was fine, snuggling in with her to watch some late night television as they spoke in quiet moments about anything but his family and her ex. It was a temporary reprieve, but still needed as they teetered on the emotional edge. When she had admitted to loving his accent despite the earlier teasing, he had snatched a wedding magazine from the pile and read to her about the year's trends in engagement photos and announcements. She had fallen asleep cradled in his arms and hearing the lilting voice dance over words about natural fibers and sustainability.

However, work was still calling. Despite her impromptu and hasty decision to leave work early, the responsibilities were still there and the tasks knocking at her consciousness when she woke that morning. Sitting with her back against the headboard and Killian's sleeping form half over her legs and head using her lap as a pillow, she updated herself on the contracts for Elsa and for Liam's band. She'd added a few dates to her own schedule and was reading an overview of what the team had found on social media when she heard her phone vibrate on the nightstand.

"You're awake, good. I was thinking that we should probably have a statement prepared in case the press gets wind of this stalker situation," Regina said, not bothering to apologize about calling before dawn or admit she was far from transparent in her actions. "See if you can work with our publicist. Reactionary is fine, but let's be prepared."

"I already have her drafting something," Emma whispered, frowning as Killian stirred and then hugged her legs closer to him like a body pillow. His unshaven cheek tickled her thighs, but she managed not to laugh. "I'm meeting with her at 9:30 to discuss, right after a briefing from Graham about the report from the security team at the condo."

"You didn't think to tell me this before you let me rattle on about getting on top of this?" Regina asked, barely waiting for an answer before the sound of water came through the phone. "Just take care of it. And do it cheaply. That publicist charges by the hour. And so does that lawyer who usually goes over our contracts. Safety is important but so is staying on budget."

Emma was hardly in the mood or position for an argument about going cheap on bodyguards. So she quickly ended the call, not surprised that Killian's blue eyes were staring back up at her when she returned the device to the table.

"Any chance that was Granny saying she prepared too much food and wants to deliver some to us?" His accent was thicker with sleep still clinging to him, but there was a softness to his early morning expression that made him seem even younger. Like a fish out of water, he flipped to his back, flailing his hand upward to grab the tablet away from her. "You're working? A lesser man could be insulted that your first thought upon waking was email and not the devilishly handsome man in your bed."

Letting him fling the tablet onto the mattress, she couldn't resist running her now empty hand through his disheveled and inky black hair. "Good thing I'm marrying and sharing a bed with a man who is confident." If he had been any more cat like, he might have purred at her soft ministrations. Instead he pulled her hand down by her wrist and kissed her palm.

"Sleep well?" he asked, letting his eyes lock with hers in what seemed a silent conversation. Her slight upturn of her lips into a sad acknowledgement was all she needed to say. "I suppose I can't ask you to play hooky with me today?"

"You're honestly going to skip work?" she asked, knowing that his dedication was not so flimsy as to allow that. "Should I alert the media?"

"I would if a certain beautiful woman agreed to hide away with me. I have plans for her." His thick eyebrows flew up and down at the teasing words that she had to smooth them over before dissolving into giggles. "I would certainly make it worth your while."

"Sorry, babe, but I'm going to have to face that desk sooner rather than later. Maybe we can find some time together this weekend." She smiled sweetly at his disappointed pout. "But we do have a little time left before the alarm should be going off."

"Do we indeed?"

***AAA***

Mary Margaret kicked at the metal base to the hospital exam table, her eyes already tired of the three posters she had already read at least a dozen times and the tattered magazine that had to date back a few years. Her bare legs felt cold, the paper gown and sheet offering very little warmth. She swung her legs again, hoping that perhaps the doctor would hear her banging and enter the room even sooner.

However, the move didn't have the desired effect, merely bruising the tender flesh of her heel in the process. She frowned sternly at the door and then her phone, neither of which seemed to come to life for her. Even David, her stalwart and dedicated husband, was missing in action. Well, not exactly missing. In their hurry to get to her prenatal appointment after oversleeping, Mary Margaret could not remember turning off the stove. She was signing in at the registration desk when she had the flash of the burner burning unattended. With a large leather tote over her shoulder, she had hurried back to her husband and begged him to go check.

Nothing seemed to be going right that morning, as David and his truck were caught in a traffic mishap from a utility truck accidentally knocking out power and taking out two poles on the route. He had called twice already to update her on his progress. But at the last call he was on his way back – the burner having not been left on. She wasn't sure that he would make it back in time, but that was not mattering much with the doctor running late as well.

Shaking the phone, she willed it to ring or ding with a message that he had returned. It was not responding though. It's just a check up, she thought hastily. He'll have the opportunity to be at dozens. Yes, she was hoping to hear the baby's heartbeat that morning, something they had looked forward to since that stick had announced her pregnancy. Maybe they could record it for him, she thought, trying to remember if she had ever heard of such a thing.

Her friends Ashley and Aurora both had newborns or toddlers, but she hated to disturb them. Ashley usually worked late and slept until almost noon. Aurora could be prickly about somethings, including questions about childbirth. So after only a few seconds of hesitation, she pressed the familiar contact and listened to her friend announce herself with a single name.

"Swan," she said into the phone, the sound of a shutting door the only other noise.

"Hi, Emma, it's Mary Margaret." She paused. "Nolan, used to be Blanchard."

"I know who you are," Emma said a bit breathlessly. "Hold on just a second. Let me grab this." There was a muffled discussion on the other end and the sound of retreating footsteps before Emma returned. "Sorry about that. I'm a little burnt out on paperwork today so I'm at the studio with one of the newly signed groups. Not to worry I finished all my other paperwork, attended three meetings, and managed to make it over here in time. Somehow my assistant and Regina's assistant don't seem to understand the concept of me hiding out for a day."

"Is this a bad time? I kind of need to talk to you as a mom." She ran her fingertips through the short hair on the back of her neck. "I could call back."

"No, no, I'm sorry. I was distracted. You've got my attention. Is it Henry? Did he not do an assignment?"

Mary Margaret laughed, realizing it was true that she rarely called for social reasons during school hours. In fact, the last time had been about cake samples for the wedding. "Sorry for the worry. No, I'm at the doctor actually. Just wanted to chat with my friend."

Sighing, Emma laughed. "I am relieved. You don't know how much pressure I'm under with that kid with one of my best friends and my fiancé teaching him. I feel like he has to be perfect. So he should thank you too. I don't want to have to murder him."

"No worries. I would tell you if there was a problem. I was hoping you might give me a little advice on this whole baby heartbeat thing." Even though the conversation was not face to face, Mary Margaret scrunched up her face with embarrassment. "See I'm here and David might be late…"

"You're there alone and that freaks you out?" Emma asked before hissing at someone else that she would be a few minutes. "You should have called earlier. I'd be there."

"David will be back soon." She filled in her friend on the morning's adventures thus far. "Anyway….I kind of needed a voice of reason. You know. Someone who has been through this before. You've got Henry. And I know he's 13 and all, but maybe you could offer a few suggestions…"

Emma's laugh showed that she was not taking the slight about age personally even though she was clearly getting ready to quip back sarcastically. "I'll have you know that you are older than me by an entire year. So no making me feel old, Mommy. While I'll be enjoying peace and quiet with Killian once Henry goes off to college, you're still going to be chasing around a little one. Though knowing you you're going to have four or five."

"I'm hardly old enough to be your mom, but wait…you don't want more? I know Henry's a teenager now, but that's it? Does Killian want children? Have you guys even talked about it?"

"Of course we've talked about it. But…" Emma stopped short, clearly holding something back from her friend. Mary Margaret, while an optimist, did tend to have a vivid imagination.

"Oh my God! Can you not have more children? I didn't think. I'm so sorry. And here I am just wanting to know if they can record the baby's heart beat so that David can hear it if he doesn't get back in time. This sucks. What about adoption? Or a surrogate. I would totally be a surrogate for you!"

"You're sounding like Anna," Emma accused, letting out a short but tense laugh. "And for the record I never said any of that. Calm down."

"I do not sound like Anna," Mary Margaret said defensively. "Okay, maybe a little. I just think that Killian and you are such awesome people. You would be great parents together. And Henry would be wonderful as a big brother."

"As Killian would say, duly noted. Now let's get back to the bun in your oven. Something about the heartbeat?"

The two women talked for another three or four minutes until David arrived, nullifying the conversation's premise. Both mom and dad heard their new baby's heartbeat, marveling over the quick and steady cadence. Mary Margaret was thrilled when she was presented a thumb drive that included the new ultrasound photos and a recording of both the video and audio of the exam.

***AAA***

"I'd like to hear it a little more up tempo," Emma announced from the sofa in the control room. While one of the industry's best producers was working on the group from Pennsylvania's attempt at a full catalog, she was not above putting her own opinion in where she thought she should. Without formal schooling in music or marketing, she had learned what she knew from observation and experience. She never tried to step on toes, usually relegating herself to that back couch where she watched and listened.

The producer simply nodded and gave a few curt instructions to the band, including picking up the pace. His ears were covered by large earphones and his fingers flew across the soundboard, priming and picking up sounds that he wanted. He was so busy that he did not even notice the door open and Killian slip inside.

"I thought I might find you here," he said, slipping beside Emma. "Henry was trying to reach you earlier."

She frowned at the phone on the table. "I put it on silent when they were recording. Sorry. I can call him back."

"No matter, love. He was simply calling to ask if he might go camping with Neal the weekend before Thanksgiving. Seems that Neal would like a little father and son bonding time prior to the nuptials. Perhaps your little chat did some good after all." His tone was cautious as he pulled out his own phone and scrolled to the message. "When he couldn't reach you, I told him I thought it would be okay with you. I hope you don't mind." His forehead creased with concern as he studiously watched her look at the note from her son, first on her phone and then his.

"I guess…Oh Killian, it's fine that you gave permission. I know we haven't worked out all these details, but you have that right. You have gotten to know me well enough to know whether I would or wouldn't want him to go." She reached out to cup his cheek. "I don't say it enough, Killian. Thank you for taking on all this with Henry. You're pretty terrific for doing it."

His cheeks were pink, not just from the chill in the air and he cleared his throat nervously. "Well, Swan, it would appear we'll have a nice weekend to ourselves. Perhaps we can live it up a bit. A date that doesn't include two teenagers and you acting as chaperone?"

"Dinner some place without paper napkins or plastic straws?" she tested, ignoring the producer's pointed look over his shoulder at them. "I want to go some place that doesn't advertise during cartoons."

"I'm thinking, quiet, out of the way, dress code…No plastic trays that we carry or trash receptacles in view of the dining area. Perhaps even a movie afterward?"

Her eyes flashed excitedly. "Something without teenagers? Something with adult situations and suggestive themes?"

"Perhaps even a curse or two."

"I can't wait," she sighed happily, collapsing onto his chest. "You are my favorite guy to date."

***AAA***

Liam felt like a visitor in his own home as he paced behind Robin and wandered aimlessly. He'd asked all the questions he could about locks and alarms. While Robin was not on the security team hired, his carpentry skill and general knowledge of construction came in handy. So he was there as a favor to Liam, making note of things he noticed and suggesting fixes to make them more secure.

"It should only take a few days, mate," Robin told him, climbing down from the step ladder. "I don't see anything that should slow us down."

"Glad to hear it. Living at my brother's is not the best situation what with Elsa, Emma, and Henry being there too. It's all a bit crowded."

"I can only imagine," Robin said, wiping a bit of dust from the window onto his pants. "I'm going to agree with the suggestion of a video monitor outside the door being a good investment. Once this is over it will help you keep those buggering salesmen away."

"Whatever you think," Liam noted, thumbing through the book that Elsa had left beside the bed they shared. Their bed. With their sheets. Their art on the walls. He was lucky to have a generous brother. He knew that. He was grateful. There was just something about being home that could not compare.

"Why don't I have a talk with that Graham bloke and we'll put together a plan for this. I'm taking it that you are not all that concerned."

"Make the place a bloody fortress," Liam complained, throwing himself down on the bed like a petulant teenager and then standing up again in frustration. "I haven't been able to protect us so far. I might as well make our home into a prison. Perhaps that will deter him."

Robin looked consolingly. "It's not going to hurt to ask for help. We all care about you. We care about Elsa. It's the least we can do to make sure you're both safe."

"He hasn't even done anything else after slashing my tires. I think this may be a bit much."

"Let's get ourselves a pint down at that joint you're running. It'll do us some good." Robin led the way out of the bedroom and into the sunny great room with the floor to ceiling windows. It was a bright and yet cold day. Liam was grabbing his coat off the back of one of the chairs when Robin stopped. "I can't be certain, Liam, but that envelope was not there before."

Liam's blue eyes scanned the direction where Robin was pointing. Sure enough there was a crisp white envelope in the center of the kitchen's peninsula. His name was printed plainly and boldly across it. "Bloody hell."