A/N: "Now" lyrics written by Barry Harman. Composer uncredited. Performed by Jem and the Holograms, the Stingers, and the Misfits/Britta Phillips, Gordon Grody, and Ellen Bernfeld in Jem S3E2 (The Stingers Hit Town, Part 2, first aired February 3, 1988).

Chapter 38

Stephanie wasn't at dinner. Emma and Casey tried to ignore the empty chair, but during the course of the meal, their eyes kept straying to it uncomfortably. They tried to chat about other subjects, they smiled, they nodded, but the conversation was strained.

"You've known her longer than I have," Emma said finally. "Does she… get like this a lot?"

Casey shook her head. "I remember she was like this a little when Terri left."

"Terri?"

"She and Stephanie were sort of like Joellen and you," Casey explained. "And then she aged out and got a scholarship to some college in…" she frowned, "not New England, I don't think. Um…" She turned to the left. "Kayla, you're good at geography; is New Jersey in New England?"

Kayla shook her head. "Middle Atlantic."

"Thanks." Casey turned back to Emma. "Middle Atlantic," she continued. "And as soon as Stephanie found out about it, she sort of… started spending a lot of time alone."

Emma sighed. "I get that," she said. "I've bounced around a lot in the system. I didn't have a lot of friends; it only hurt more when I had to go or they did. Usually, it was me," she admitted, "but when it wasn't, I didn't know how to deal. Except by running." She smiled tentatively. "This is the first place I've been in a long time where I think I'm going to be around for a while."

"Good," Casey said, smiling back. Then her expression turned serious again. "But that still doesn't explain why Stephanie's upset now."

Emma frowned. "I guess she'll… tell us when she's ready," she said slowly.

"I hope so," Casey said with feeling.

The older girls were coming around with dessert now, and Emma's eyes lit up when she saw what was on the platter. "I have got to find out where Mrs. Bailey buys these brownies," she exclaimed, reaching for one.

"She doesn't," Casey informed her. "But if you ask her, she'll show you how to make them…"

Devon wasn't at the meeting Roxy attended that night. She wondered why that irritated her. He hadn't phoned her today either. Or maybe he had and the clerk at the front desk hadn't passed the message on.

Who was she kidding? He wasn't going to call! He was probably asking Jem out for a date at this very moment; he'd had a thing for her since the first time they'd met! That didn't make it mutual, Roxy reminded herself. Jem hadn't been into him eight years ago, so why would that change?

Eight years ago, she was smooching it up with Rio behind Jerrica's back, that's why! Now that he's out of the picture…

Oh, what the hell did she care? Devon was a nice guy, but nice guys were a dime a dozen.

Yeah? Then how come I can't seem to find one all that often, and when I do, they don't stick around?

Anyway, she didn't want Devon or anyone else who was involved with that stupid benefit that had ruined her life! Angrily, she opened up the door to her room, slammed it behind her, and flung herself down on the bed. What was she supposed to do with her life now? Flip burgers? She could almost see Clash gloating. And Hector Ramirez would… would…

…Would completely ignore her; washed-up has-beens were pretty much par for the course in LA. The thought was hardly comforting. Bad publicity was a million times better than no publicity! Roxy groaned. She had to do something to bounce back from this! Something that would win her back her old fans and maybe some new ones too!

She just didn't know what yet.

Wendy applied herself to her arts-and-crafts project—a keepsake box made of flat wooden sticks with rounded ends—and cast a sidelong glance at the fair-haired girl sitting at the next table. Emma had barely touched her own pile of Popsicle sticks (a curious name; Wendy wondered how they'd come to be called so). Instead, she sat lost in thought, sometimes picking up a stick, examining it as though it was different from the others before her, and then setting it down again.

After a moment, Wendy pushed back her chair and walked over to her. "Perhaps I could help?" she asked hopefully.

Emma looked up startled. Then she shook her head. "I don't think so," she said, but if her voice was weary, it lacked the cold edge that had come to punctuate most of Emma's words when addressed to her.

Wendy pulled out the seat across the table from Emma and sat down. "Emma… I… I'm awfully sorry about… before. I haven't many friends here and when I thought we might actually become chums, I… I suppose I was so afraid you'd change your mind I thought it might help if I was your only friend. It was beastly of me," she added. "Could… could you give me a second chance?"

Emma didn't say anything for almost a moment. Then she shrugged. "I guess I've needed some of those, too," she said.

Wendy smiled. "What are you making?"

"I don't know," Emma admitted. "I thought about doing a cabin, but… I always do those. I want to be a little different."

"I see," Wendy said. "I'm only making a keepsake box myself. I can't imagine that's especially original either."

Emma sighed. "Well, at least when we paint them, we can make them look good." She gave Wendy a resigned smile and reached for the bottle of paste. Wendy's eyes widened, as Emma held it upside down over one stick and squeezed out a thick white droplet.

"Is that how you do it?" Wendy asked. "I-I've been taking the top off mine entirely and using a brush!"

Emma's eyebrows shot up. This time her smile was a bit warmer. "You know," she said thoughtfully, "it's probably less messy that way. But if we don't wash the brushes fast when we're done, we might ruin them."

"Are you busy?"

Jerrica looked up at the question and smiled at Kimber. "For you, Sis? I think I can take a break from all of these… benefit logistics." She winced. "I forgot how much work this kind of thing could be. Rory's handling a lot of it, but…" She shook her head. "Sorry, Kimber. What's up?"

Kimber sank into the armchair in front of Jerrica's desk. "Do you ever want to just make a statement to the press that you're Jem?" she asked. "Forget about the secrets, the hiding, the double life, and just say… This is who I am, love it or lump it?"

"The press?" Jerrica shook her head. "Not really. I like having the kind of downtime I'd never be able to have if the truth got out. Rio on the other hand…"

Kimber shook her head. "Think he'd have stuck around if he'd known from the start?"

Jerrica winced. "I wonder that sometimes. I think if I'd told him the truth when he first started showing he had feelings for Jem, maybe if I'd come clean then, we could have had a good laugh together and moved on. And then," she sighed, "I think about how nervous I'd have been about him accidentally blurting out the secret in some interview or calling me Jerrica in a tech rehearsal." She put a hand to her forehead. "But he really should have known long before Raya did…"

"Rio?" She stood there, still wearing the gown she'd been wearing onstage just an hour earlier, but her features were no longer disguised by Synergy's 'magic'. "Please. Say something."

Rio was gaping at her, eyes wide. "All this time…" his voice sounded strangled. "When I've been beating myself up over seeing another woman behind your back, wrestling about whether to tell you, and then every time I thought I knew which one of you I wanted to be with, the other would say or do something that kept me hanging on and all this time, it was you all along?"

She could hear the hurt and betrayal in his voice and she took a step closer. "I-I wanted to tell you, but Synergy said that if too many people found out what she could do, somebody might be able to reprogram her and use her to commit crimes—"

"And you thought I'd do that?" He was angry now and Jerrica couldn't blame him.

"No! Of course not! But it had to stay a secret and that meant that the only people who could know were the ones who were the rest of the band and only because they were with me when I got the earrings."

For a moment, Rio's expression smoothed and he started to nod. Then his features hardened again. "What about Raya?" he asked.

"Raya?" Jerrica repeated.

"She wasn't part of the band then. Does she know?"

Jerrica swallowed. "Only because she saw me transform when I thought I was alone. And she kept that secret for weeks, until after the talent contest when she realized I'd gone behind a curtain to change and the stagehands were about to open it."

"Gee, for someone so careful about her secret, sounds like you got pretty careless a few times. Not around me, I notice. So, Raya got to prove to you that she could be trusted and you never gave me a chance? Not that I should have had to prove anything to you," he added bitterly. "After all the years we'd been a part of each other's lives, you should have known."

Jerrica's mind was spinning. This had to be a nightmare. Where would it end? Where could it end? She tried to babble apologies, but it was clear that her words had less substance to them than one of Synergy's holograms. When Rio told her that he couldn't be around her right now, but that he'd try to call her in a while, after he'd had time to process things, she'd nodded and told him she understood, but deep down, even then, she'd known it was over and she couldn't blame anyone else for it besides herself.

Kimber winced. "I'm sorry," she said. "You never gave me the… details."

Jerrica shook her head. "I wasn't looking for a shoulder to cry on or an I-told-you-so. I can't say Rio didn't have a point. And if I had it to do over," she added, "I don't know if I'd do anything differently, and I don't know if it would have been better if I had."

"It sucks, though," Kimber said.

"Yeah." She tried to smile. "How did we get on this subject?"

"I… don't like keeping secrets," Kimber said. "I-I mean, I'll take yours to the grave with me if you want me to, but mine? Or mine and Stormer's? Lately, I've been feeling like holding a press conference, telling everyone about us, letting it all out…" She sighed. "And then I think about getting grabbed by a bunch of drunk guys who think I just need to be 'shown a good time' like I'm living in some B-movie. Bags of hate mail. Ticket sales tanking. And, Stormer never had the kind of support you guys have given me, not really. She hung out with the other Misfits, but she never thought she could go to them with any real problems. And even if she tells me she's okay with going public, I'm afraid she'll just be saying it because she doesn't want to lose me. And she wouldn't!" Kimber added fiercely.

"But deep down, you worry that Stormer won't believe that," Jerrica guessed.

Kimber nodded. "I don't really want advice. You gave us that already. But it's just so hard keeping it all in sometimes, you know?"

"I do know," Jerrica nodded. "And I wish I could tell you that everything would be fine no matter what you decided, but… it's taking a risk and once the news gets out, you can't walk it back if it blows up, not really. People might forget as soon as the next celebrity news hits the tabloids, but until that happens, it could be rough." She reached for her sister's hand. "But whatever happens, you've still got me. And at this point, that goes for Kimber, too."

"Think you'll ever tell her about Jem?"

Jerrica hesitated. Then she gave her sister a sad smile. "I guess that means you haven't."

"I'd never—!" Kimber exclaimed. "Not without your permission!"

"I didn't think you had," Jerrica reassured her. "But even before I knew about your relationship, I knew you were close. I thought it might have slipped out."

"It's come close to a couple of times," Kimber admitted, "but if she somehow knows, it's not from me."

Jerrica smiled. She thought for a moment. "Once the benefit is over," she said, "I think Jem's going back into retirement for good. Once that happens… If the two of you are together, then Stormer's as good as family already. So, maybe once the benefit's done, it'll be time she did know… the family secret?"

Kimber squealed and flung her arms about her sister. Jerrica hugged her back.

Wendy burst into the apartment with a bright smile on her face and a new skip in her walk. She was actually humming when John came into the sitting room from his office. "You're in a fine mood," he remarked.

Wendy beamed at him. "I've wonderful news! Emma and I are friends again!"

Now John smiled back. "Well, that does make your job easier, doesn't it?" he replied.

Wendy's smile faltered. "I-I suppose it does," she murmured.

"Oh, not this rubbish again!" John groaned. "Please, tell me you're not forgetting the reason you're here after all. Because I can assure you that Pan hasn't!"

Wendy's lip quivered. "Yes, very well, I know," she said. "B-but these last days have been dreadful. It's been like a wall's sprung up between me and Emma and now it's down and it's simply lovely. Can't I just… be happy for that? Just for a little?"

John sighed. "How happy do you imagine Michael is right now?" he asked.

If there had been any hint of anger in her brother's voice, Wendy rather thought she might have called him a beast, perhaps flung something at him, and flounced into her bedroom, but John just sounded miserable. For the first time, Wendy saw worry lines etched into his forehead. At least, she hoped that they were worry lines, for although John might be some years older than her now, they surely couldn't be wrinkles.

"Yes, I understand," she said in a more subdued tone. "B-but surely we can still be friends for a little while yet, can't we?"

John sighed again. "If it gets you close enough to her, certainly."

Wendy was no longer smiling as she clomped miserably into the kitchen.

Roxy ignored the billboard advertising the return of Jem and the Holograms for one night only. She averted her eyes from the side of the bus proclaiming that the Misfits were back… with Deirdre Baxter's image right where hers was supposed to be.

For a moment, she thought about calling Pizzazz or Jerrica or Riot, pleading for another chance at the benefit. No. She had her pride. And the Baxter kid had a restraining order out against her. Roxy couldn't get within a hundred yards of her. If she showed up, even in the audience, she might be arrested. If she ran out on stage, security would yank her off before she got through her first number. Damn it!

If it wasn't for that restraining order... if Pizzazz hadn't practically jumped to replace her when she'd initially refused to do the benefit instead of trying to convince her to reconsider… If…

Hell. Her life was in the toilet and it was her fault, but things never would have got to that point if she'd had better friends! And Jerrica Benton had been so quick to help Pizzazz out after Harvey Gabor died. Where had she been when Roxy needed a hand?

"Make one little mistake," she muttered. Crud, it wasn't like she'd set out to do anything more than keep Baxter out of the way for a little while. Nobody had asked her to try climbing shelves in the dark. Yeah, maybe Roxy shouldn't have locked her in, but it wasn't her fault that Baxter had been so reckless!

She stamped down the flickers of conscience that pricked at her. She couldn't afford that now. She had to stage a comeback and busking wasn't going to cut it. She needed more eyes on her.

She needed to play the benefit.

And she'd be so damned good that the crowds wouldn't let anyone yank her off the stage!

"Stephanie." Stephanie looked up reluctantly at Casey's voice. "What's going on?"

"Uh…" Her eyes darted left and right. "I-I…"

"Emma's off rehearsing with the Starlights, if that's what you're wondering. What's going on?"

Stephanie swallowed. "Promise you won't tell anyone?"

"No," Casey said with a frown. "Not until I know what it is."

"Then I won't tell you," Stephanie said firmly.

Casey shrugged. "Fine. Then I'll tell Jerrica you're hiding something." She turned on her heel to go.

Stephanie swallowed. She had nothing to worry about. Jerrica knew what was going on, after all. But that didn't mean she liked the idea of one of her best friends running to tell on her. "It's nothing bad," she protested.

"Then why won't you tell me?"

"Because I had to promise not to, okay?" she snapped. "Jerrica made me promise!"

"What?"

Stephanie shook her head. "Please… just… leave me alone."

Casey frowned. "But if she knew how upset you are, maybe she'd want you to talk to someone. I mean, this isn't like you."

"I'm fine," Stephanie insisted. "Please, don't tell her."

"All right," Casey said. "I won't tell Jerrica."

She saw the relief on her friend's face and wished she didn't feel like she was doing the wrong thing. Did Jerrica really know what was going on? What if she didn't? What if there was something really wrong?

It wasn't until she'd left the room that she realized that she hadn't promised not to talk to Mrs. Bailey!

"Auntie Phyllis?"

Phyllis looked across the table at her young charge. "What is it, Hanna May?" Then, at once, "Don't talk with your mouth full."

Hanna May finished swallowing. "When is Mr. Loo-lin coming again?"

She'd been wondering if that was going to come up. "Do you like Mr. Llewellyn?" she asked.

Hanna May nodded. "He's nice."

"Nice, how?" Phyllis asked. "Because he buys you stuff?"

"Yeah."

"And if he didn't buy you stuff?"

Hanna May shrugged. "He's still nice. He plays with me in the park. And he likes to sing with me."

"He does?" Phyllis asked, smiling.

"Uh-huh. Now a rainbow will greet us, now nobody can beat us …"

Phyllis's smile widened. "Now our luck will change somehow," she joined in. "Our time, our time is now."

"You know that song, too, Auntie Phyllis?" Hanna May asked.

Phyllis nodded. It had been one of the first songs that the Misfits, the Stingers and Jem and the Holograms had collaborated on. And Rory had chosen to teach Hanna May that one instead of Old MacDonald Had a Farm or even one of the Stingers' non-collaborative hits. Maybe he'd just picked a song with lyrics that a four-year-old could understand and didn't need a 'mature' content warning. Or maybe there was another reason. "You bet I do, kiddo," she said. "Hey. Want me to teach you the rest of the words, so you can surprise Mr. Llewellyn the next time you see him?"

Hanna May nodded. "Now?"

"Well, finish your supper first. Guess you want dessert, too?"

"Yeah!" Hanna May exclaimed. "Marisol made mamon cakes!"

"Whoa!" Phyllis replied, beaming back. It wasn't just because the little girl's excitement was contagious; she liked the Filipino mini-chiffon cakes, too. "Guess we can't let those go to waste, either! Okay, kiddo. Supper, dessert… and then, singing!"

Hanna May nodded energetically and speared another piece of fish stick.

Jerrica sighed. "I'll take care of it, Mrs. Bailey, thanks."

"I wouldn't have bothered you," the older woman apologized, "but Casey's worried and Stephanie has been withdrawn for the last day or so. She doesn't seem to want to open up to anyone, including me, not that I pushed very hard. She's got her walls up, that one. I hope she's just moody and it's not anything more serious…"

"I know what it is," Jerrica said sadly. "I'll talk to her. In fact," she scribbled a message hastily on a notepad. "If you could give her this, please? I'm asking her to come see me after supper tonight. And thank you."

Phyllis wondered why she was hesitating. Back in the day, she never would have. Back in the day, she'd been a spoiled brat living off of Daddy's millions and throwing tantrums into twenties. People grew up. People learned that actions had consequences and some consequences were scary. But Pizzazz wasn't scared of anything, she reminded herself firmly. And even if Phyllis was a little scared, growing up didn't mean giving into fears. It meant knowing the risks, understanding the risks, and taking the plunge anyway if the reward was worth it. It meant thinking before acting, not going off impulsively to do whatever the hell you felt like. But she did feel like doing this, even if it did scare the hell out of her.

She reached for her phone and punched in the number.

"Hey, Rory. I'm making a lasagna on Wednesday and it's going to be a lot for two people. Why don't you come over and help us eat it?" One corner of her mouth quirked up at Rory's reply. "Sure. I mean, what other reason could there be? Yeah, okay. Hanna May kinda misses you." She sighed and added softly, "And I guess I do, too…"