/o\

Recoil

Part 4-2: You Can't Go Home Again

Gladys stared at me. "Did I hear you correctly? Did you just ask me to … "

"Help me kill someone, yes." I kept my voice low and steady, my eyes fixed on hers. "Gladys, you're the best damn shot I know. I could maybe do this on my own, but I'd far rather you were along."

"But … kill someone? Commit murder?" Gladys' voice was plaintive. "You're my best friend, Taylor, but that's kind of wrong. Also, illegal."

I noted with passing amusement the order in which she'd said that. "Not as wrong as what this guy will be doing if we don't punch his card, first chance we get."

"Uh, the men I've got -" ventured Andrea.

" - have less chance of pulling it off than I do on my own," I informed her. "Sorry; I know the dangers, and I'd far rather have someone along who'll do what I say and not second-guess me."

Gladys gave Andrea a bemused look. "Men?"

"Long story." I looked at her. "Can you help me, Gladys? Will you help me?"

She hesitated. "I -"

And then the door opened.

We all turned to look at the newcomer. It took me a couple of seconds to recognise Principal Paul Woodbine; he was a few years older, a few years greyer.

"Gladys, I -" he began in his turn, then paused as he saw Andrea and myself. " - I didn't realise that you had visitors."

"We just got here," I explained. "It's good to see you again, sir."

He blinked a few times. "Taylor? Taylor Snow? Good grief, it is you."

I grinned as I shook his hand. His grip was firm, but I'd dealt with stronger. "That's me, sir. You're looking well."

"And you too, young Snow," he told me, looking me over approvingly. "You're all grown up now, and I hear that you're making a name for yourself in the PRT."

I shrugged slightly, unsure of what he may have heard about my exploits, but fairly sure that Behemoth was not one of them. "I do what I can, sir."

"She's a captain now!" burst out Andrea; I could hear the pride in her voice.

His eyebrows rose concurrently. "Well, now. Captain at …" His eyes went unfocused for a moment as he calculated, " … twenty-one? I'm very impressed."

"No, sir." I shook my head. "Twenty-two. And there are special circumstances involved. Classified ones," I added hastily, before he could ask.

He got the message. "Ah," he agreed, nodding slightly. "Still very impressed, Captain Snow. Very impressed indeed. I only ever made it to first looey, myself." Turning to Andrea, who was still holding on to my arm, he gave her a bemused glance. "And I don't believe that I've met this delightful young lady."

"This is my friend Andrea Campbell, sir," I informed him. "She was my roommate in college."

"Indeed?" Woodbine took Andrea's hand and shook it carefully. "Any relation to Joe Campbell? Was a sergeant in the Marines, runs the JROTC course here."

Andrea frowned. "Huh. No idea. Could be – I've got lots of cousins – but I'd have to ask around."

"I'll see if he knows you, the next time I see him," he replied, then turned to me again. "He said you were doing well at Boot; first looey straight out of the gate, hmm? I'll have to tell him you made captain; it'll make his day."

"If you want, sir," I agreed. I really didn't want to have too big a noise made about my exploits and career while I was back in Brockton Bay; the less said and the less heard about me, the better.

Captain Snow had a quiet four-week leave in her home town then returned to duty. No incidents of note.

That was how I'd have liked the report on my leave to read. However, I couldn't protest too much, or he might start wondering.

"So what brings you back to Brockton Bay anyway, Captain Snow?" he asked curiously. "And for that matter, to Winslow?"

"Oh, uh, I've got four weeks of leave, sir," I told him. "A medical issue. And to be honest, I just got into town a few hours ago, and I wanted to catch Gladys before she went home for the day. I wanted to ask her if she wanted to come on a camping trip with Andrea and me, this weekend coming up. We'd deliver her back here safe and sound, Monday morning."

Gladys blinked as they all looked at her again. Taylor's request had hit her out of the blue, and she had actually been looking for an excuse to say no when Woodbine had shown up. She had been left out of the following conversation, giving her a chance to think about what she was being asked to do.

This was Taylor, she reminded herself. Taylor, who had stood by her through thick and thin, who had gotten in trouble for her sake. Taylor, with whom she had gone through JROTC and ROTC both, who had encouraged her to find her own strengths, to push past her limits. Taylor, who had nursed the budding relationship with Franklin, to whom she was so happily married now. And perhaps most importantly, this was Taylor who had travelled back in time, to fix the mistakes of the past. She was changing things, and Gladys had to have faith that she was changing things for the better.

And if Taylor needs my help now ...

"I - I'd like to do that with you, yes," she responded.

Woodbine frowned. "I believe that you have a big test scheduled on Friday. You told me specifically that you would be most likely marking over the weekend."

Oh crap. I forgot about that. "Uh -"

"We can take the papers with us," Taylor suggested quickly. "I'm good with computers; I can help her mark them."

Gladys glanced toward Mr Woodbine. "Can we do it that way, sir?"

He frowned. "It is somewhat irregular, Gladys," he replied, a tone of mild disapproval creeping into his voice. "I understand that Captain Snow is your friend and all, but ... "

Gladys had a brainwave. "Careers Day!" she blurted.

"I beg your pardon?" asked Woodbine, frowning.

"Next Monday is Careers Day, right?" Gladys knew she was babbling, but she rushed on. "If Taylor showed up in uniform on Monday and talked to them, would that make it okay?"

Woodbine's eyebrows went up again. "Well. If Captain Snow is willing to put in the time and effort to speak to our students about a career in the PRT, then I don't see why not ..."

Gladys knew Taylor better than Woodbine, and at least as well as Andrea did. She saw the dismay, quickly hidden, followed by the calculation. Over the span of a fraction of a second, she watched Taylor come to the decision that yes, attending Careers Day at her old high school was worth having Gladys come along to help her kill someone.

She must want this person dead really, really badly.

"Yes, sir," Taylor replied with a crisp nod. "I can do that." A brief smile. "I'll just have to make sure that my orderly thought to pack my dress uniform."

Woodbine smiled broadly. "Excellent. I'll have Gladys fill you in with the details."

"I can do that, Mr Woodbine," Gladys assured him. "And thank you."

"It'll give us the chance to show off one of our success stories," Woodbine noted. "Thank you, Captain Snow, for this opportunity." He turned toward the door, about to leave.

"Oh, uh, was there something you wanted when you came in here?" Gladys asked.

Woodbine stopped. "Ah, yes, of course. I came to ask you … what was it?" He paused for a moment. "Oh, yes, of course." A rueful smile crossed his face. "I was going to ask you if you would be free to sit in on one of the stands on Careers Day. But as Captain Snow has generously volunteered to help out … "

"If you still need a hand on the day, of course I can," she agreed.

"Excellent," he replied. "Well, I'll let you ladies get caught up." He exited the room, closing the door behind him.

Taylor waited a few beats, to make sure he was gone. "You're certain?" she asked in a low tone.

Gladys nodded. "I promised, didn't I?"

Taylor did not answer, at least in words. She just hugged Gladys again.

-ooo-

Andrea and I exited the school, taking our time walking down the steps. In the distance, I could see Kinsey, still at his post beside the car. We were alone, but Andrea glanced around anyway before speaking.

"So who are you and Gladys going to kill?"

I raised an eyebrow; she seemed so matter-of-fact about it. When I stopped to look at her, she paused a couple of steps higher, so that we were looking eye to eye.

"You're taking this in your stride," I observed. "To be honest, I expected you to be a little bit more surprised, or upset, or something."

She lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. "I've had a lot of time to come to terms with the fact that the woman I love is a very deep person, and that I shouldn't be surprised by anything you choose to do. You told me once that you're ready to lie, cheat, steal or kill in order to fix things, so … yeah. What can I do to help?"

Despite her bold words, I could see in her eyes that she wasn't quite as self-assured as she made out, but that she was doing her best to pretend to be so … for my sake?

Reaching out, I took her hands in mine. "I won't ask you to do anything you aren't prepared to do. But I will need you to make certain preparations for me. And the stuff I asked you for; do you have it?"

She squeezed my hands and gave me a wide and genuine smile. "Sure I do. And let me tell you, the guy was mightily surprised when I contacted him. And even more so after I set him up in his own workshop."

"Good," I told her. "Excellent. I'm going to need other things from him, in the next few years. Make sure that his retainer is generous enough that he doesn't even consider leaving."

"Oh, that was the easiest bit," Andrea assured me, as we continued down the steps, hand in hand. "I ramped up his salary till his eyes bulged, then doubled it. He'll stick around."

"Well, I hope you haven't bankrupted us in the process," I replied jokingly.

She snorted. "Hardly. With what we're worth these days, I'm effectively paying him out of petty cash."

"Just don't let him know that," I warned her. "Or he might get greedy."

She grinned. "Trust me, he knows which side his bread's buttered. Those people you say he was going to work for, the Uppermost? They couldn't afford to pay him anywhere near what we are."

"Good, good," I replied with a nod. "And the rifle?"

"Delivered and in good condition, or so the man who unpacked it tells me," she responded cheerfully. "He's asked me if he can pretty please fire it. I've told him no, so far."

We were getting close to the car; I lowered my voice. "Let him zero the scope, but that's it," I told her.

"Okay," she agreed. "Uh, who - ?"

I indicated Kinsey with my eyes. "Later," I murmured, then raised my voice. "Sergeant Kinsey, are you hungry?"

"Not yet, ma'am, but I will be shortly," he told me. Which I easily translated as Yes, but I can hold off if I have to.

"Good," I replied. "Let's get something to go on with, and then we'll be doing some more visiting."

-ooo-

We ate fish and chips on the Boardwalk, looking out at the ocean. Andrea took the middle space on the seat; not so much to claim me as hers, as I initially surmised, but just so that she would be between us.

"So," she asked Kinsey cheerfully, "has she told you how we met?"

"Oh god," I groaned, putting my hand over my eyes. "Not that one, please."

"I had not heard this one," Kinsey told her politely, "but if the Captain wishes it not to be told, then perhaps we should refrain."

Andrea rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out in my direction. "You're no fun."

"Well, excuse me if I want to have some dignity at the end of the day," I riposted.

"Dignity? Where's the fun in that?" she wanted to know.

I considered that. Andrea had once talked me into playing nude Twister; dignity was definitely not high on her to-do list. "Just not … today, okay?" I asked.

She tilted her head. "Okay. So. More important stuff. Your promotion is classified, huh? Am I allowed to ask what happened?"

"I can't stop you from asking, but I'm not allowed to actually answer," I explained.

"Sure, okay," she agreed. "So, you got made a captain, and you had some sort of mental break, and that thing in New York with Behemoth all happened in the last few days. I'm thinking they're all connected. If you shake your head I'll know I'm wrong."

Kinsey's eyes opened a few notches wider than normal; for him, this was an expression of pure astonishment. So far, all he had seen was the flighty, flirty girl that most everyone saw when they met her. She had a brain in her head, and she was able to use it, when and if she chose. She hadn't, after all, squandered our war chest, but was actually investing it the way I was advising her to.

I very carefully did not shake my head.

"Okay, cool," she noted, as if I had actually said something. Picking up a handful of fries, she stuffed them into her mouth like a child, and chewed blissfully. Over the top of her head, I met Kinsey's gaze. He glanced down at her; I read his meaning as Is she going to be a problem?

Fractionally, I shook my head. No. I'll deal with it.

In return, he nodded, just as fractionally. As you say.

I cleared my throat. "Talking about that sort of thing to the wrong people could get you in a lot of trouble. Just so you know."

She nodded, setting her red curls to dancing. "I know," she vocalised indistinctly, around the mouthful of fried potato. Pausing, she swallowed the bulk of it. "I know. Not gonna say anything. Just wanted to know."

I sighed. "I wasn't in New York, but I was … involved, yes," I admitted. "So were a great many other PRT people, as well as police, firefighters, National Guard, and so on."

"Ahhh," she replied wisely, as if I had just told her something important. "I get it."

I resisted the urge to ask get what? and ruffled her hair; she giggled. "Well, whatever it is that you get, you're going to have to hold on to it for a while. Finished? We've got friends to visit."

Kinsey offered me the last piece of fish; I declined, so he ate it. Andrea stuffed her mouth with fries again, and bounced up to take the remains of our meal to the nearest garbage can. While she was doing this, Kinsey took the opportunity to lean in toward me.

"Ma'am," he murmured, "it strikes me that your friend is brighter than she seems."

"Oh, I know," I replied, just as softly. "I've known for years. Don't ever assume she doesn't know something, just because you didn't tell her."

"But why does she put on the bimbo act?" he asked, his eyebrows drawing together; mild frustration, I guessed. I got the impression that he'd wanted to add 'brainless' in there, but had left it out due to tact.

I grinned. "I don't think it's an act."

I very rarely managed to surprise Kinsey; the look on his face, wiped away again as Andrea came back to join us, was priceless.

-ooo-

"This should be it."

Andrea stopped in front of a door and rapped on it; when there was no answer, she tried the handle. It opened; for a moment, I shared with her a view of three guys and two girls, no clothes in sight, involved in … oh my god. Shouts and squeals erupted; I reached out and pulled the door shut abruptly, blushing to my eyebrows.

"I don't think that's Danny's room," I managed, in a choked tone of voice.

"I didn't see him in there," Andrea agreed. "We must be on the wrong floor. Just a second."

She opened the door again, and stuck her head inside. "Hey, anyone here know which floor Danny Hebert's on?"

I shared a horrified glance with Kinsey, then reached out to pull her out again. But just as I did so, a male voice, somewhat muffled, called out, "Try the fourth!"

"Thank you!" she replied cheerfully, pulled her head out, and shut the door. She beamed at us. "See? Easy as pie."

I tried to pick my jaw up off the floor. "Andrea, seriously. Do you have no sense of shame?"

She gave me a well, duh look. "Nope. But I thought you already knew that."

Kinsey's was the face of a man for whom new vistas of enlightenment were opening all the time. He didn't look as though he was ready for it.

For my part, I just shook my head. "Yeah, I knew. Or thought I did. Wow."

She giggled and took my hand. "Silly Taylor. Or did you think I acted like that just around you?"

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Apparently not."

"Though I don't know why – ah." Andrea bent and picked up the tie, which had apparently slipped off of the door handle. Carefully, she replaced it. "Saves all sorts of problems."

I could only shake my head.

-ooo-

Up on the fourth floor, we located the right room, and tapped on the door. Moments later, it opened.

"Oh, hey," Danny greeted us. "Taylor, wow, you're back in town already?"

He was still tall, still gangly, though more filled out than when I had first met him, years ago. "Come on in," he invited us; I went first, followed by Andrea, and then Kinsey last of all. Danny's eyes widened behind his glasses as he took in the sergeant's bulk. "Uh, who -?"

"Danny Hebert, meet Sergeant Kinsey," I introduced them. "Sergeant, this is Danny. He's the one who saved my life, back in 'eighty-nine."

"Very pleased to meet you, Mr Hebert," Kinsey greeted him, offering his hand. Danny shook it, his relatively skinny hand swallowed up by Kinsey's huge paw.

"Uh, likewise, uh, Sergeant," Danny returned, apparently relieved to get his hand back uncrushed.

Kinsey nodded slightly. "Call me Jim."

Danny waved us to chairs, of which there were two, and the bed, on which Andrea and I sat. Once the seating arrangements were sorted out, Danny looked at us all. "So what brings you back to the Bay so soon, Taylor?"

"Resting, relaxation," I told him. "Medical leave. Four weeks."

He looked alarmed. "You're hurt?"

"Not physically, no," I told him. "I … kind of overworked myself, so my boss gave me some time off."

"Hm," Danny noted. "You always were the intense type. Not overly surprised, but really, you should learn to pace yourself."

Kinsey snorted; Danny glanced at him. "Easier said than done with the Captain," Kinsey told him.

"Wait, you're a captain now?" Danny blinked. "Wow. Does Gladys know? She'd be thrilled."

I nodded. "We went to see her first."

"And Mom and Dad? Have you seen them yet?"

"Not yet," I told him. "I want to make sure both of them are home. Because I'm going to introduce Andrea to them."

His eyes grew very wide, as did Andrea's. She didn't speak, but she didn't have to. "Are you sure that's wise?" he choked. "You know how Mom feels -"

"And my feelings in the matter don't count?" I snapped. "I love Dot; she was kind enough to take me in, to act as my legal guardian. But I also love Andrea, and Dot's going to have to make a choice; to accept my life, and my friends, as what they are, or to reject me along with Andrea."

Andrea's hand found mine and squeezed it. "You don't have to do this -" she began.

"I know I don't," I told her, squeezing back. "But I'm not going to let her dictate to me who she considers acceptable friends to bring over. You're an important part of my life, and she needs to know that."

Danny cleared his throat. "I have an idea," he offered.

-ooo-

The hire car was full now; Kinsey drove, with me in the front passenger seat. In the back seat, Andrea sat between Danny and Anne-Rose, if only because she was the shortest, and thus would obscure the rear-vision mirror the least. Fortunately, she had chosen to restrain herself from flirting too obviously with Anne-Rose, who only had eyes for Danny anyway.

Following my directions, Kinsey pulled the car up in front of the Hebert residence; one by one, we decanted ourselves from the vehicle.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" asked Anne-Rose. She had been filled in on Danny's plan, but was dubious about how well it would work.

"Mom's a lot less likely to be rude with guests in the house," Danny pointed out. "And if we all show that we accept Andrea … "

Andrea wrinkled her nose at him. "Accept, hah. When we first met, you couldn't take your eyes off of me."

He grinned at her. "Yeah, well, since then, I've gained a more refined taste."

She clenched her fists and pretended to advance on him; miming fear, he ducked behind me.

I sighed. "Children. Enough. We're all adults here; can we at least act like it?"

Danny nodded. "Okay, let's do this." Taking Anne-Rose's hand, he started up the path. I followed, with Andrea; Kinsey brought up the rear.

-ooo-

Relaxing with the paper, George Hebert heard the doorbell go. "Dottie?" he called out.

"I'm busy, dear," she called back from the kitchen. "Can you get that?"

Not without a grumble – he had just gotten comfortable – George laid the paper aside and heaved himself out of his chair. He stumped out of the living room and into the front hall, then opened the door.

"Danny," he grunted in surprise. "What brings you here?"

His son grinned as he stepped inside, along with Anne-Rose. "Taylor's back, Dad."

Since Danny had settled down with Anne-Rose, George had gotten to know her a little. She didn't kowtow to the boy, and she knew what she wanted. He understood that she'd had a couple of flaming rows with her own parents over her life choice, but she'd stood by her guns, and had gotten her way. Good for her. So he granted her a nod as she entered as well.

Taylor was next; George would have liked to have seen her with Danny, but the girl was too independent-minded for that; not to mention not interested in boys, if he was understanding things right. She'd gone to join the PRT, which still didn't sit quite right with George – women should not be in the line of fire – but by all accounts she was making a good showing of it. He had to respect that. "Taylor," he grunted, as she entered; she offered him a smile and a brief handshake.

Following Taylor was a girl he had met only a few times, but he knew who she was. Taylor's … woman friend. Andrea someone. His shaggy eyebrows rose as he contemplated how this was going to turn out. "Miss," he greeted her gruffly; she offered him a bright smile as she entered. At least she's dressed reasonably decently, this time.

Last was a man George did not know; a few decades younger than him, the man was unmistakeably military, and at least as bulky as George himself.

"Sergeant James Kinsey, sir," the man introduced himself, holding his hand out. "You'd be George Hebert?"

George shook it, feeling the power in the man's grip, and doing his best to give just as good back. "I am," he allowed. "You're with Taylor?"

"Her orderly," Kinsey explained. "And her driver."

"Hm," grunted George. "You'd better come in, then." He raised his voice, then. "Dottie! Visitors!"

I watched Dorothy Hebert bustle out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. As I had told Danny, she had taken me in, even stood up to George when he argued against it. In truth, she had gone that extra mile for me, and I owed her more than I could ever repay.

But her sentiments, when I met Andrea, had driven a rift between us. Her views about homosexuality were as obdurate as they were unreasonable; I did not consider myself gay, but my intimate association with Andrea had branded me as that in her eyes.

I still didn't know how she had learned about us, and I hadn't asked; I suspected that perhaps Danny had inadvertently let something slip, or perhaps one of Dot's other circle of friends had passed the word along, maliciously or otherwise. In any case, I wasn't going to deny the connection between us, even though we were officially broken up.

"Oh, Taylor, you're back," she greeted me. "So soon?"

"I'm on leave," I told her, and stepped forward to hug her. The progression of years on her was almost imperceptible, but she was that little bit more slender, more birdlike, than when I had first met her.

"How long are you back for?" she asked next. "And oh, where are my manners? I don't believe I've met your friends."

Kinsey stepped forward and took her hand briefly. "James Kinsey, ma'am," he greeted her formally. "Parahuman Response Teams."

"Oh, so you work with Taylor, do you?" She smiled charmingly; I saw her eyes dart from Kinsey to me and back. Hope springs eternal, I thought wryly.

He smiled back, just a little. "In a way, ma'am. She's my commanding officer."

"Oh." She blinked, apparently taken aback by his bluntness, and perhaps by the fact that I was a 'commanding officer' to anything, or anyone. "And who is this young lady?"

Quite deliberately, I took hold of Andrea's hand. "This is Andrea. Andrea Campbell, meet Dorothy Hebert."

Dot took in Andrea, how close she was standing to me, and then the name sank in. "This is ... Andrea?" she asked faintly. "The, uh ..."

"I think the word you're looking for is 'girlfriend', Mom," Danny put in helpfully, before Anne-Rose could elbow him in the ribs.

"What is this?" Dot asked, her voice gaining strength. "Taylor, this is too much. How can you -"

"How can I do what, Dot?" I asked her. "How can I bring Andrea to meet you? Or how can I stand to let you look down on her because of the way she lives her life?"

Dorothy shook her head. "No. This is nothing that I have done wrong." She pointed at Andrea. "She is the one who breaks the law of God. She is the sinner here. I have accepted you back into my home, into my heart, because you came to me, made an appeal, told me that you had changed your ways."

Andrea lifted her chin. "You know, she never had ways to change, Mrs H. She never was gay."

Dot stared at her. "She lived with you. She slept with you. She sinned with you. Don't lie to me."

Andrea rolled her eyes. "Wow, sleep with one girl and you're a freakin' stone-cold lesbian. Seriously. Once you've done that, it's all done. Never go back, never accept the love of a good man, right? Pshh, yeah, right."

"Enough." Dot glared at Andrea. "You come into my house under false pretences, and now you're rude to my face. George, I want these people to leave."

Before George could speak, Kinsey cleared his throat, and the room quieted. "Captain Snow had not finished speaking, sir." His voice did not hold any particular menace, but no-one contradicted him.

"Dot," I began, trying to salvage this, "if I had slept with a boy, at college, would you have acted the way you are now? Would you have barred him from the house?"

"I would have prayed for your soul, child," she replied stiffly, "and for his, but no, I would not have barred either one of you from the house. For that is a natural act, albeit sinful in its own right. But thatother, which you practised with this girl – that is abominated by the Good Book."

Anne-Rose raised her hand; up until now, she had stood silent. "Uh, Dorothy – Dot – can I just say something?"

Dot looked over at her, and nodded once, sharply. "What is it?"

Taking a deep breath, Anne-Rose continued. "I'm, uh, sleeping with Danny."

Dot breathed in sharply through her nose; George's frown lines deepened slightly.

"Danny, is this true?" demanded Dot.

Danny looked like he wanted to sink through the floor, but he nodded. "Yes, ma'am." He raised his head and looked her in the eye. "I love her, and I'm going to marry her."

"Well, whether or not that's true, why bring this up now?" Dorothy snapped.

"Because before I met Danny, I was sleeping with Andrea," Anne-Rose explained simply. "Am I a sinner, to be cast out? I didn't change my ways; I liked Andrea, but I love Danny. It's that simple. And we're going to be married. He's asked, and I've said yes. Does that sound like your idea of a lesbian?"

Dorothy flinched at the word, but rallied. "I will pray for your soul, but give thanks also that you have seen the light," she declared. "You may not have seen it yourself, but -"

"But nothing," interrupted Andrea. "You can't even see it now? People are gonna do what people are gonna do. I'm gay; I like guys a little bit, but I like girls a whole lot. Anne-Rose's the other way around; she's mainly guy-oriented. Now Taylor here -" she turned and framed me with her arms, as if exhibiting me to the world, "she's the straightest girlfriend I ever had. Was when I met her, still is. In fact -"

"Okay, okay," I interrupted her in turn. "Andrea, Anne-Rose, Danny, thanks for your support, but enough, okay? Dot. Andrea's my friend. We've been through a lot together. I'm grateful for all you've done for me, but I need to know, if I come to visit, is Andrea welcome to visit as well? Because if she is, great, and I promise not to make out on the sofa in front of you. But if she isn't … then I'm going to say goodbye here too. Because if you can't accept her for what she is, then you're less of a Christian than she is, because she accepts people for being a lot worse than that."

I paused and looked her in the eyes. "You took me in. You were like a mother to me. But this time … I'm sorry, but you're wrong."

I took Andrea's hand and turned; Kinsey stood aside for me, as did George. The sergeant fell into step behind us; Andrea guided me toward the door, which was a good thing, because my eyes were suddenly full of tears, and I couldn't see a thing.

-ooo-

Anne-Rose got into the back of the car and comforted me as I cried on Andrea's shoulder. Danny was in front with Kinsey; the sergeant drove the car back to the College.

When we got there, I got out of the car along with Anne-Rose and Danny. "Are you two going to be okay?"

He gave me a crooked smile. "Well, I'm fairly sure Dad knew it already," he observed, "so all I'll really get is a few more lectures at home, along with regular invitations to church gatherings."

I hugged him; his arms went around me to hold me tightly. "Thanks for your support, back there," I told him. Then I turned to Anne-Rose. "And I can't believe you said that, to her face."

"Oh god, nor can I," she agreed. "It just … came out, you know? But I think it needed to be said."

I sniffled. "Well, I hope that you don't get in too much trouble."

She hugged me. "You've already shown me that I don't have to follow every single last stricture of my parents. I'll be fine."

She was so like my mother that my eyes misted over, all over again. I held her tightly, for nowhere near long enough. "Good luck, you two," I told them, as I got back into the car. "I'll see you around."

"Take care," Danny told me, and then I shut the door.

"Where to, ma'am?" asked Kinsey quietly.

Leaning back against the car seat, I closed my eyes. "Andrea's place. Please."

-ooo-

I was silent and listless when we got in through Andrea's front door; Andrea and Kinsey conferred over what to cook for dinner that night, while I sat on the sofa. The TV was on, but I wasn't registering anything. All I could see was the betrayal and hurt on Dot's face; all I could hear were the hurtful words, the words that she believed implicitly.

I had not realised until now how much Dot and George meant to me, how much emotional support that I had derived from their very presence, even while I was out of Brockton Bay. Normally, I would have been able to weather this much more easily, but following Behemoth … belatedly, I realised that Hamilton had been correct. I did need to get away, to get my head together.

Numbly, I became aware of a large glass being pushed into my hands. I drank automatically, only to encounter the bite of hard liquor; bourbon, I thought, but I wasn't sure.

"I don't want this," I told Andrea, trying to give her the glass back.

"Jim says you do," she insisted. "Drink it. Please."

At her urging, I drank the glass, bit by bit. By the end of it, I wouldn't say that my head was more clear, but a lot of the confusion was gone.

Andrea was beside me; she took the glass away, put her arms around me, and murmured, "Is that better?"

I nodded wanly. "Yeah. A bit. Helps. But I've fucked up so bad. Got people killed. I don't know how you can stand to be my friend. To even know me." I realised that I'd been about to talk about things I wasn't supposed to talk about, and stopped.

"Because I love you," she whispered, and stood up. "Come on."

"Where to?" I asked, allowing her to pull me to my feet. "And where's Kinsey?"

"In the shower," she informed me. "But we're going to the bedroom. Your back's knotted up like hardwood, so I need to get you naked."

"You don't need to get me all the way naked to give me a back rub," I noted, my thoughts swimming just a little.

She giggled. "The way I do it, I do."

"Oh, yeah," I agreed, remembering some of her back-rubs. "You want to have sex with me, after."

"When do I not?" She closed the bedroom door, and started undoing my blouse. "Of course, you don't have to, but … "

I didn't offer more than a token protest. A back-rub, after all, sounded like a wonderful idea. After a while, I found myself helping her take my clothes off, then getting hers off, too. It was familiar; it was comfortable. It was something, I found, that I had missed.

And then I was lying on my front, on the bed, as she poured scented oil on my back, straddled me, and started working on my muscles. Her thumbs dug in deeply, finding all the old trouble spots, relaxing me beyond all belief. It had been so long since I had felt like this.

I stayed awake all the way through the massage, until I was just a limp puddle on the bed. And when her hands started to wander in lewd and lascivious ways, I was still awake, and I did not protest.

She kissed me; I responded.

And what happened after that was between me and her, and no-one else.

-ooo-

We lay together, after, under a sheet, her head pillowed upon my shoulder. She was just as relaxed as I was, curled sinuously up against me like a giant cat; I could almost imagine her purring in my ear.

"Wow," she murmured. "You really needed that."

"I think you did too, you sneaky seducer," I replied, just as softly. "Don't think you're gonna catch me off guard like that again in a hurry."

She arched herself against me lazily, complacently. "I don't have to catch you every time," she breathed. "Just once or twice is good enough for me. But wow, you had some serious knots in your back. Something's been really bothering you. Can you talk about it?"

I opened my eyes to look at her, and saw her green eyes, in the dim light of the bedroom, staring back at me. "I … well, it's classified, but you've pretty well figured it out," I admitted. "Plus, you know about the other thing." The fact of me being a time traveller, I meant.

"Yeah," she agreed. "So that's got something to do with it?"

I sighed. "Basically. I knew Behemoth was going to hit New York, of course. Just like I knew when he was going to hit Sao Paulo, last year. But I couldn't have believably predicted the Sao Paulo attack, whereas I could predict New York, and make it look good."

Her eyes opened wide in the dimness. "I heard they got early warning, and got a lot of the population out and away," she replied. "That was you?"

I nodded miserably. "I had to stay up for days at a time, pretending to work myself to a frazzle, to get the prediction right," I revealed. "And even then, I couldn't chance predicting it too early. So I gave them about ten hours of warning."

She held me close. "Why is that a bad thing?" she asked. "You saved lives!"

"Because people still died," I pointed out. "Some of them, people who would never have been there. Capes, parahumans, who wouldn't have been there. There were people trying to get out through the Holland Tunnel when Behemoth collapsed it; nearly a thousand people died, right there. If I hadn't warned them, they may not have even been in harm's way."

"Stop it," she whispered fiercely. "You're beating yourself up for not being good enough, not being perfect. Well, news flash, lover. No-one is. No-one can beat the odds every time, come up with a perfect victory every single time."

Contessa can, I thought, but said nothing. Oh, to have Contessa on my side. But Lisa and I had not figured out a workable scenario to get the attention of Cauldron, or even Contessa, in a way that guaranteed me continued free action.

"I just … I felt I could beat the odds," I admitted. "But after I gave the warning, after all that, Behemoth still emerged, he still killed capes and firefighters and ordinary people. People died. Not as many as would have, if I hadn't given the warning, but still, a lot. Too many. Far too many."

Andrea kissed me tenderly, softly. Not a lover's kiss; the kiss of someone who understands. "But you did give them the warning," she noted. "Imagine how much worse you'd feel right now, if you had just stood back and watched."

I tried to imagine just that. I couldn't. It was too horrible. I wouldn't have been able to do it. And with that realisation, the yawning feeling of failure abated. It didn't go away altogether, but it did reduce itself to manageable proportions. I hadn't won, but nor had I lost. I'd just … changed the game.

And that, after all, was the idea.

Holding Andrea close, I kissed her soundly. "Thank you," I breathed, when we came up for air.

"Wow," she giggled. "Can we do that again?"

"What, and give you ideas?" I asked dryly. I gave her a kiss, not as deep as the last one, but warm and soft and loving. "This should keep you going." I threw the sheet back and sat up.

Her arms went around me from behind. "We can stay in bed a while longer … "

I leaned back against her warmth. "Sorry, Andrea, but I'm hungry." I took her hands in mine, and raised them to my lips, one and then the other. "We can talk more, after."

Climbing out of bed, I located my errant underwear, then picked up my blouse and skirt from where they had ended up on the floor. "Come on; from the smell of it, Kinsey's just about finished making dinner. Let's eat."

-ooo-

When we left the room, modest once more, Kinsey looked up from where he had just served out the meal. "I trust the captain enjoyed her nap?" he asked, rather dryly.

"The captain did," I agreed, trying not to grin. "I believe I rather needed it." The TV blared in the corner, and I raised an eyebrow. "Is your hearing going, or has that gotten rather loud, all of a sudden?"

"There was a program that I particularly wished to listen to, ma'am," he explained smoothly.

More like, there was something else you didn't wish to listen to, I translated.

"Indeed," I replied, inhaling deeply. "Well, it seems that you haven't lost any of your touch as a cook. Thank you, Kinsey."

He inclined his head toward me. "My pleasure, ma'am."

-ooo-

Afterward, we sat together on the sofa and watched TV, with the sound turned back down to reasonable levels. Andrea leaned up against me; despite both of us protesting, Kinsey had insisted on doing the dishes. Staying out of the way, I knew, so that I could be alone with Andrea.

The man, I decided, was a paragon.

"Oh, by the way," she murmured. "Thanks for earlier, with Danny's mom. For standing up to her and defending me."

I sighed. "I wish I could have convinced her."

She rubbed her cheek on mine. "You might have, in the end. You left before she could make a decision." A pause. "Why did you defend me, anyway? You didn't have to."

"Because … well, when I come from, gay rights isn't even a thing. Not needed."

"Because of Legend, you said?"

I nodded. "Legend, yeah. He changed everything. When a big name superhero publicly comes out of the closet, it kind of makes it a lot easier for everyone else."

"So … it just doesn't matter any more? To anyone?" Her green eyes were intent on mine.

"Yeah. Well, except for certain cultures. But even among them, it's kind of relaxed. America? No-one cares. Which is why it bothered me that Dot was bothered by you."

"So if you'd sat down to dinner one day and told your dad that you were gay, he would have said … ?"

I shrugged. "'That's nice. Pass the salt, please?'"

Andrea seemed to find that hilarious; she started giggling, then chuckling, then laughing. By the time, Kinsey came in from the kitchen to see what was going on, she was lying back on the sofa, still giggling; occasionally, she would cackle, "Pass the salt!"

And of course, I couldn't explain what I'd said, so I told him it was a 'girl joke', and he seemed to accept that.

-ooo-

Later, in bed, she was still occasionally giggling, even while cuddling up to me. "'Pass the salt', hah," she murmured. "I wish my dad had said that to me."

I didn't ask what he had said; I sensed an old wound, long closed. No sense in prodding it.

"Thank you for being here, for understanding," I told her. "I didn't realise just how bad I was hurting."

"You still are," she warned me, becoming serious for a moment. "That sort of thing doesn't go away overnight. It's going to take time."

"Yeah, I know," I sighed. "But it's a start."

"If you'd let me massage you every night, you might get through it faster," she offered slyly.

"Right," I retorted dryly. "And I know exactly where you're going with that. No dice."

"Aww," she murmured playfully. "Spoilsport."

"Yup," I told her heartlessly. "Now, I don't know about you, but I'd like to get some sleep. Today's been a long, long day."

"Okay," she agreed readily enough, and turned so that I could spoon her. She was warm, and I was comfortable, and it didn't take long to drift off to sleep.

-ooo-

"Well, that was interesting," Lisa commented.

We lay on our backs, watching clouds drift across the deep-blue sky. The air was cool, with just a hint of a bite to it that seemed to indicate winter on the way.

Lisa, I reflected, was getting very good at this.

Raising myself on my elbows, I looked around. We were on the side of a mountain, or a very large hill, one of many around us. Beneath us was a springy, comfortable plant; a low, tough ground cover. Nearby was the picnic basket that we had used once before, planted in the middle of a red and white chequered cloth.

My first hint as to our supposed location was Lisa's choice of wear; she had on a plaid-patterned skirt, which after a few seconds I recognised as a kilt. Around her waist was one of those Scottish belt pouches; I had no idea what it was called.

"It's a sporran," she told me, sitting up. "So yeah, this is your idea of the Scottish highlands."

Well, it's definitely high, I noted, looking around. I was wearing more normal gear; jeans and belly tee.

"Thus the name," she agreed. "So, you've been stirring the waters, just a little bit. Care to enlighten me as to why?"

With Dot? I asked, and she nodded. Well, it's like I told Andrea. I was tired of Dot acting like she was a second class citizen.

Lisa snorted indelicately. "Pull the other one, it plays Beethoven's Fifth in three-part harmony."

I blinked. What?

"I. Don't. Believe. You," she elucidated. "Or rather, that was part of it, but there's more to it. So give with the rest of it."

I … don't know what to tell you, I confessed. There is no 'rest' of it. That's the whole of it.

Lisa rolled her eyes. "So, there's no deep-seated feelings of guilt, and need to punish yourself, left over from the Behemoth thing?"

I … I feel bad, yeah, but …

"Or about that guy you popped in the face, back in Batavia? That hasn't been gnawing at you, deep down, knowing that you could have shot him in the arm, just like you did his buddy?"

I … he had the shotgun, I had a clear sight picture. He was a clear and present danger.

"Which is why your training said 'shoot to kill'. And you shot him." Lisa knuckled my scalp; I pushed her hand away. "Which was the right thing to do. He was a bad man, and he would have killed again."

I blinked at her. So you're not saying I shouldn't have killed him?

"Oh, god no," Lisa told me. "Some people need killing. He was one of them. You did what needed doing." She opened the picnic basket and started laying out food.

I breathed a long sigh. Well, I guess I feel better, knowing that. Slathering butter on to some bread, I layered ham and bologna on to it, then topped it with some cottage cheese.

She grinned at me mischievously. "I still say you would have gotten rid of that tension a lot sooner, if you'd slept with Kinsey."

I poked my tongue out at her. Nope. I've got my head back together now, or closer to it. That is not going to happen, so long as regulations forbid it. Then I took a bite of my sandwich. It tasted heavenly.

Lisa rolled her eyes. "You know, we're just going to keep having a rocky relationship if you don't occasionally let me talk you into an amazingly ill-advised venture."

I'll chance it, I told her cheerfully. Now, I'm guessing what you were going to say was that I wanted to punish myself, so I pushed matters with Dorothy regarding Andrea. Thus, possibly losing Dot as a friend.

"Something like that," she mumbled indistinctly, biting into another sandwich.

Figured. I nodded. Any idea which way she'll jump?

"I'll let you know," she told me.

Thanks. Then I paused, looking at the strange brownish lump that had pride of place on the picnic cloth. Uh … what exactly is that thing?

"Can't you tell?" Lisa asked, her fox-like grin in full evidence. "This is Scotland. It's a haggis."

Ew, I told her. I've heard how those things are made. No thanks. And besides, I think it just moved.

Lisa shrugged. "Fine." She picked the thing up, and tossed it downslope a little way. "Fly, be free!" It hit the slope, and rolled. Pretty soon, it was picking up speed, and not long after that, it was out of sight altogether. She dusted her hands off. "Haggis, dealt with."

Thank you, I told her with a grin of my own. Lying back, I continued to eat my sandwich, while watching the clouds go by. This is nice.

"It's meant to be. You need relaxing situations for the time being."

Yeah, well. It's gonna be somewhat less than relaxing pretty soon.

Lisa tilted her head. "Gladys said she'd help you. That's got to be a weight off your mind."

I wasn't thinking about that, I retorted. I was thinking about Careers Day. Good god, the horror.

Lisa started laughing then, so I flicked a spoonful of cottage cheese at her. She retaliated with potato salad, so I let her have it with a jelly cup that I found in the basket.

After that, it all went downhill, including us. We ended up wrestling, rolling down the slope as we did so, until I brought us to a halt, several dozen yards down from the picnic basket.

I rolled apart from her and sat up; we were both still chuckling. I wiped some custard – where had that come from? - off my cheek and popped it in my mouth. It was delicious.

Lisa smirked at me. "I think it's time you woke up."

I nodded. Probably.

"Kiss before you go?"

I kissed her; her lips tasted of dust and blood, and raspberry jelly. The ever-present wind whipped her hair across my face, and I blinked.

Andrea smiled sleepily as I lifted my lips away from hers.

"Good morning, lover," she murmured.

"Good morning," I replied, just as softly.

It was nice to be back in Brockton Bay.

Now, if only I didn't have to kill someone while I was here.

End of Part 4-2