"I'm so angry I can't even look at you," Alex hissed, stomping towards the car, leaving Emily no choice but to follow if she wanted to get home. The party was likely to rage on until dawn, but Alex was no longer having fun and wanted to get as far from the festivities (and the idiotic Panic chatter) as possible.

Jogging to keep up with Alex's furious pace, Emily followed after her, doing her best to maintain her upright posture in her slightly drunken state. "About what?" she asked quietly, feeling guilty without really knowing why. "The us not being together thing? Because I..."

Alex stopped suddenly and rounded on Emily, hands balled into fists at her side. "If you don't want to be with me, that's your loss. I'm pissed because you're going to ignore every single good instinct you have for a little money!" She shook her head, huffed. Crossing her arms over her chest, she silently dared Emily to come up with a justification that would adequately absolve her sins.

Emily gave an incredulous laugh. "A little money?" she repeated. "Fifty grand is not a 'little money'! And I'm going to need it if I ever want to get the fuck out of here." She cocked her head, refusing to be kowtowed by Alex's anger. "You don't get it because you've got this picture perfect life... How could you possibly understand what it's like to..."

"You are gambling with your life, Emily," Alex interrupted emphatically. "And I refuse to support that."

She shrugged. "Fine. Don't support it. That's not going to stop me, though. Like you said, we aren't together...maybe James will listen to you, but I sure as fuck don't plan to." She shot her a smug grin, apparently thinking she'd successfully gotten in the last word.

"God, Emily, you are so immature!" Alex snapped. "I'm trying to save you from yourself and you haven't even figured out you're in danger." With another frustrated huff, she turned on her heel and once again marched off.

"Whatever," Emily muttered, apparently done listening, even as she jogged after her lest she be left behind.

Alex quite literally growled. "If I weren't terrified of what might happen to you, I swear to God, I'd leave you here with the rest of the Panic morons."

Emily just rolled her eyes as she climbed into the passenger seat.

When Alex arrived home – just shy of midnight – she was surprised to find her mother still awake, sitting at the kitchen table hunched over a series of documents in Russian. It wasn't uncommon for her to bring work home with her, but she usually kept her classified documents locked up in her office.

Moira didn't react to Alex's presence until she let the cupboard door slam shut as she went in search of a mug for the chamomile tea she sorely needed. Moira jerked awake at the sound, head whipping around in search of who or what had woken her.

Alex laughed at her mother's bleary confusion. "You know pulling all-nighters can reduce your mental performance as much or more than alcohol, right?" Her grin was rather smug, since her mother loved to say that exact warning whenever Alex studied past her usual bedtime.

"You aren't amusing, Alexandra," Moira said flatly, but nonetheless smiled in appreciation when Alex set a mug of tea in front of her as well. "Did you just get home?"

Rolling her eyes, Alex reminded her, "Daddy said I could stay out past curfew."

"Oh...right," Moira said, stifling a yawn. "Then why are you home so early?" she added with a glance at her watch.

Rather than answer that, Alex asked, "Is Daddy in his office?"

Moira frowned at the quick dismissal. "I think so, but..." The end of her sentence, though, was cut off by Alex's departure.

"Daddy!" Alex lamented, throwing the door to his study open and flinging herself into his arms with a pitiful whimper.

"Lexi..." he exclaimed, clearly surprised as he wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back gently. "Ladybird, what's wrong?" he murmured after pressing a tender kiss to the top of her head.

She sniffled, choked on a sob. "I tried, Daddy..." she said, voice muffled by his chest. "I tried to stop them..."

"Stop whom, Lexi?" He was obviously quite perturbed by her state of upset and there was nothing he wouldn't do for his daughter...

She pushed herself out of the embrace so she could meet his gaze, her eyes wild and frenzied. "Emily and James," she said, "They want to play Panic!"

Charles frowned. "Panic? As in the game that killed those two teenagers last year?"

She nodded, sniffled. Something seemed to occur to her then. "Daddy, no one can know I told! It has to be a secret – that's the rule..."

"Lexi..."

She shook her head frantically. "Daddy, it needs to be a secret!"

And, if only because he was helpless to resist her, he sighed, nodded. "Between us." A beat. "But I'm afraid there's simply nothing to be done about your friends. If they want to play Panic, that's their prerogative."

"Their prerogative!?" Alex repeated incredulously.

He nodded solemnly. "Lexi, that's the unfortunate truth about teenagers: they're old enough to make their own decisions, but their brains aren't developed enough to make smart ones." He shrugged helplessly. "There's nothing you can do."

"Nothing you can do? Nothing? You're Professor fucking X!" she ranted. "There's got to be something you can..."

Charles interrupted her impassioned speech with a firm, "Alex, I'm not going to stop them and neither are you."

She knew he was serious by the lack of pet names. "But Daddy..."

"I forbid you from interfering with their decisions," he said sternly. "You can talk to them 'til you're blue in the face, but you may not use your powers to stop them."

"Daddy..." she whined, stomped her foot petulantly.

He refused to be swayed, though. "Good night, Alex," he said with an air of finality.