Chapter 9

A/N: A few notes before this chapter formally starts.

ancilla89: Below is a partial list of characters for "Perspective," one of which, Melissa Wallace, is an OC from "Adjustments" by Jenny wrens.

A Few OC's

Brigadier General Joshua S. Marshall, United States Marine Corps is a major OC in my NCIS works and a prominent character in this story. He commands Marine Corps Recruit Depot Parris Island in South Carolina.

Sergeant Major Thomas Marshall, USMC is a retired Marine who served from 1945 to 1987. He is the adoptive father of Josh S. Marshall, Sr.

William Marshall- Youngest of the Marshall children at 12, Will plans to break with family tradition and join the U.S. Navy once he is old enough. He studies full-time and teaches undergraduate courses part-time at Cornell University in Ithaca, New York.

Xavier Preparatory School students

Class of 2006

Samantha Byron- Prefect

Susan Heisler- Prefect

Cassandra Marshall- Prefect and Head Girl

Woodes Rogers, IV- Prefect and Head Boy, son of an influential D.C. Senator.

Lukas Shepard- Prefect, one of Xavier's students from Germany

Melissa "Missy" Wallace- Prefect, girlfriend of Josh S. Marshall, Jr.

Class of 2007

Trevor Bedford- Member of "The Boys", known for his tendency toward copious profanity among his friends.

Bradley R. Campbell, III- Prefect

Joshua S. Marshall, Jr.- Prefect, boyfriend of Melissa Wallace

Chris T. Marshall- Prefect, identical twin brother of Josh S. Marshall, Jr.

Karen McCann- Prefect

Alan Parks- Prefect

Harry Potter- Xavier socialite; coincidentally shares a name with J.K. Rowling's most famous character.

Emily Wright- Prefect

Class of 2010

Brittany Marshall- Minor character (so far, at least) in "Perspective", she attends Xavier Preparatory School in the 8th grade.

And another thing

"The Boys" and "The Girls"- The male and female elite social cliques at Xavier Preparatory School, respectively. Known for setting trends and social standards for the rest of the student body, and typically the Prefects are members. There's no official list of who's with them, not that any of the students have. This is just the name for Xavier's "in crowd".

After a few brief questions to determine that the two boys didn't need medical attention right this second, Agent Gibbs led them to a conference room off the main hallway in Xavier Hall. As the rush from the fight faded, Josh started to feel the impact of the blows he'd taken, began to notice the scuffing and tearing to his uniform.

It was impossible not to notice the signs that he'd landed some blows of his own, though. And the more Josh looked, the more he felt a kind of perverse satisfaction over it. He'd laid hands on his hated enemy at last. He'd been taught to engage and destroy in any confrontation. That was the way Dad and all his martial arts tutors had said he should fight. And although Agent Gibbs had interrupted before Josh could actually destroy his enemy, put him down with no mercy asked or given, Josh could at least say he'd done something to avenge the insult done to his family.

Even so, it was hard to feel all that proud when Agent Gibbs closed the meeting room door, set his hands on the back of a leather swivel chair, and leveled that steel gaze at the two boys. They each sat six feet apart and both got the stare directed at them, but while Josh nervously braced himself for the questioning, Riley Janssen crossed his arms over his chest and stared defiantly back.

"So what happened?" Agent Gibbs asked. Calmly, yet firmly, a voice you couldn't ignore.

Instantly the two boys started arguing. Josh tried to raise his voice enough to start out by apologizing, figuring that was the right thing to do, while Janssen began ranting furiously about how "he and those stupid rich kids" started everything.

"One at a time," Gibbs interrupted, raising a hand for silence. He pointed at Josh. "Tell me."

"Wait, sir-" Josh glanced over at Janssen, who glared back furiously. "I- are you this guy's guardian or, or something?"

"Yes. And now it's time we had that talk, wouldn't you agree? What happened out there?"

Josh swallowed nervously. He'd felt like a badass out there, taking on someone he hated, retaliating for an insult to the Marshall clan, but being cornered by this old warrior, he felt like a hot-tempered kid who'd messed up pretty good. A feeling he knew he was likely to retain when he inevitably answered to Dad later.

"Well, sir, my friends and I, we- I saw him when we came back from lunch. Harry threw his cigarette at him and we went over to tell him he should leave. He said no, so I threw my cigarette at him and pushed him. Then he pushed me, so I hit him harder and knocked him down." Josh paused. "That started the fight, sir."

"You even threw in some crap about 'No mercy,' remember?" Janssen snapped. "Bet that felt great when-"

"Riley, hold on," Agent Gibbs warned gently but firmly. "I need to get this just from him." He looked over at Josh again. "What's this about 'No mercy'? You like making references to old movies?"

"My Dad's a fan," Josh replied simply. "And most of the time I've been at Remington Military Academy up in Rhode Island the last couple of years. Some cadets started a Cobra Kai group there back in 1984 or 1985. It's still there."

"So that's how your Dad said you should fight? Like Cobra Kai?"

"Strike first, strike hard, no mercy, sir," Josh recited. "Dad says it's realistic. 'The world's hard, and the only way to survive is to go all-in when you engage. Try everything to make tact and diplomacy work but if you can't, hit 'em so hard they never get up again. No mercy.'"

"All right. So you started the fight, but why?"

"My sister and her boyfriend and my brother all went to get him-" Josh jerked a thumb irritably at Janssen, who glared daggers at him even more than before- "-and he up and ran out on us, sir. Got in that wreck. Could've died. And he ran right outta that hospital like a coward."

"So you blame him for what happened? Your sister didn't have to come after him or Makayla."

"My parents raised us to run toward the danger, sir," Josh said matter-of-factly. "It's what we do. She was reckless about it, this time, but she still did the right thing. I mean, sir, her heart was in the right place. She heard Makayla Wallace and that guy were in big trouble and that was all she needed to know. Sir."

"Feeling like Riley didn't show the right appreciation?"

"I don't think he's showed any so far," Josh answered. "And he ran out on us while three people who tried to help him lay in the hospital." Josh shrugged. "I wanted some payback, sir. Just took this as a chance to get it."

"Riley?"

"I was just sitting out at the truck like you said, and these stupid rich brats show up throwing their fuckin' cigarettes at me! Bigshot here starts pushing me, so I pushed him. So what?"

"Is that all?"

"Yeah! Oh, no, wait, rich boy started going on about how I shouldn't be here, I'm too poor to hang around here or whatever. He had some nice things to say about that truck of yours, too."

"Look, I just said it was old!" Josh protested. "I said some stuff I shouldn't have, okay? I'm not supposed to just go shitting on- I mean, going and, you know, insulting people 'cause they don't have money."

That stare again, with what seemed like curiosity this time. "Your parents like to live it up, huh, Josh?"

"Oh, he's Josh now, is he?!" Janssen burst out, but Gibbs held up a hand again.

"Let me ask the questions, Riley."

"For how long? You wanna make a federal court case outta this or something?"

"What're you talking like that to him for?" Josh asked, both surprised and annoyed.

"Howabout you just count your teeth and see if you wanna lose any?" Janssen asked mulishly.

"Now, Riley, that's enough," Agent Gibbs said sternly. "Just keep that to yourself."

"He started it!"

"I'm asking questions here," Agent Gibbs replied. "Let me do that."

"Whatever."

Agent Gibbs kept his gaze on Janssen for a few more moments, then looked back at Josh, obviously waiting to her a reply.

"Sir, my family's money isn't important to this."

"Yeah," Janssen snapped, "I could tell by how much you talked about it!"

Josh looked to Agent Gibbs plaintively. "Sir, what I said was that he's not up to the dress code around here, and he's not. I meant he doesn't have the money that the kids who go here do, and he doesn't. It's true. Any one of us here could look at him and see that."

"Doesn't make him any less of a person," Agent Gibbs replied sternly, seeming to genuinely disapprove.

"You're right, sir," Josh agreed, nodding. He shrugged nervously. "Uh… I guess I just got carried away. School like this, sir, you get a lot of guys, and girls, will all these rich, powerful parents."

"Goes to your head, huh?"

"Yes, sir," Josh replied. "It does. And it's happened to me sometimes. Mom and Dad always taught us that being a Marshall made you special, um, a cut above the rest, but also it meant- it means- responsibilities."

"Like being a Marine."

"Absolutely, sir." Josh hesitated. "I think my Dad just assumes we'll all be Marines just like him, but… if Will up and wanted to join the Navy instead, he'd be able to live with it."

"Will?"

"My younger brother, sir. He's twelve. Teaches at Cornell while he works on his Master's. Then he'll be after his PhD."

That got a look of astonishment from Janssen, and surprise even registered on Gibbs' stone-like face.

"Your brother's doing that at twelve?"

Josh smiled proudly. "He's the smartest person I've ever met, sir. A genius."

"Sounds like it," Gibbs agreed. "And so all that family pride wasn't enough to stop you from starting a brawl in the parking lot at this school?"

"No, sir, I guess not," Josh replied. He hesitated. "Look, sir, if you wanna know anything about what happened, or, like… I dunno, why it happened or something, just ask me. I'll tell you anything you wanna know."

"Your dad's still gonna know about this," Gibbs reminded him.

"I don't mind, sir," Josh said. "Being a Marshall means owning up to your actions, whether or not you're proud of them. You choose to do something, you own it. You don't hide."

"Big man with his big words," Janssen scoffed. Gibbs shot him a warning look, but Janssen huffed and turned his face away.

"Go ahead, sir," Josh said, looking Gibbs in the eyes. "And when you talk to Janssen there, I'll confirm whatever he says as long as it's the truth. I started that fight but I'm not a liar. Sir."

"All right," Gibbs said. "I can think of some things I'd like to know."

ΩΩΩΩΩ

Harry Potter stood out in the hallway of Xavier Hall, the main administration building, arms folded, anxiously waiting for that old guy to come out. He'd been in there for more than half an hour, and his calm, steady voice stopped only for periodic replies from Josh Marshall, Jr. or Riley Janssen.

Granted, the Janssen kid seemed to constantly end up shouting, but he was technically still replying regardless. It annoyed Harry to no end that one of the wealthiest and most influential boys in this school was having to sit in there and put up with all this.

So what if Josh laid into some poor kid who came snooping around here? What difference did that make to anybody that mattered? Josh was a Marshall, and you no more played games with one of them than you would one of the Rogers or the Potters. And Josh was… upset right now, to say the least. Harry intended to protect his friend from any fallout, no matter what this old dude intended to do.

Harry's phone buzzed, and he took it out of his pocket to check. Trevor was asking what to tell everyone. The fight had been witnessed from afar and people were already beginning to talk now that Josh was absent from class. Harry was technically skipping to be where he was, but Trevor had already taken care of that. There'd be time to do damage control if Harry needed it.

Say that the Janssen kid started it, Harry wrote quickly.

But he didn't. Technically.

I don't care, Harry replied. Get enough people talking our way and this'll take care of itself.

I'm on it, Trevor answered.

Harry sighed gratefully; one piece of business was taken care of. Or would be soon enough. It was all the same to Harry, who'd had to manage PR matters like this before. This one was different, though. It involved two outsiders, one of whom was entirely unknown to Harry. The old guy seemed to be important to Josh, but Harry couldn't just go in there and ask why. Not yet anyway.

The polished solid hardwood door of the conference room opened and the old guy stepped out, his sharp, hawk-like eyes immediately spotting Harry off to the left in the luxuriously-carpeted hallway.

"Shouldn't you be in class, son?"

Harry pocketed his phone, squared his shoulders and cleared his throat, bracing himself for what looked to be the toughest opponent he'd ever had to "explain the rules" to. He was going to let this dude know what was what no matter who he happened to be.

"Well, sir, I stuck around because- are you Riley Janssen's guardian or something?"

"That's me, yes."

Harry allowed himself a modest smile; progress already!

"I thought so, sir. See, here's the thing, sir. I really think you need to know how we do things here at Xavier. You can't just go making trouble for someone like Josh Marshall."

"And why is that?" the old guy asked, raising an eyebrow quizzically.

"Because if you did," Harry went on, "you'd be telling people things that just aren't true. I've already taken care of- people already know what actually happened."

"What really happened? Out in the parking lot?" The old man frowned. "What're you saying, son?"

Harry made sure to look the old guy right in the eyes. "Why, that the Janssen kid started the fight, of course, and that Josh was never out there. Nobody saw the fight up close, so they'll hear that I fought Janssen instead. And even if you get it nailed down that Josh was there somehow, I'll still have more witnesses than you. I'm covering for Josh, whatever that means for me."

The old guy didn't like the sound of that, it seemed; his already-stern expression grew even more solemn. "You're telling me you're going to lie about everything that just happened?"

"I don't like being dishonest, sir," Harry added. "But I'll make sure you can't touch Josh over this. That kid doesn't belong at this school, anyway. Costs almost sixty grand to go here, sir; that's a steep admission price. No offense, sir, but everything about that kid- well, it's obvious he's not that type."

"I hope you don't think you're better than Riley just because you're to the manor born," the old dude replied. "Your old man must've taught you better than that."

"What he taught me was that here at Xavier, sir, we take care of our own," Harry replied. "I'll see that gets done no matter what you plan on doing. I'm hoping you plan on being reasonable, sir, and not stirring up any trouble."

"I'll make sure to talk it over with Tom the next time I see him," the old man replied, his tone nonchalant.

Harry started, unsure of who that was. "Who-?"

"Works in the big, fancy office with a brass sign on the door. He's the big boss around here."

"Doctor Jenkins?" Harry asked in astonishment. "But how do you-"

"That's for me to know," the old guy answered. "I respect that you're loyal to your friend but you need to get to class."

"You think you can just walk in here and make trouble for somebody like Josh Marshall?"

"I'm about to give Josh a call, actually."

"But he's in that conference room there."

"Josh Senior."

"You know-" Harry broke off, completely bewildered now. "How do you know- who are you?"

"You don't need to worry about all that. I respect your loyalty but you don't need to do anything, son. Everything's gonna be taken care of."

Damn it. That's just what I'm afraid of. This could be embarrassing for the Marshalls, for me… I better clear out. I got work to do.

Harry backed away, aware that he might have moved in too quickly, that he was dealing with someone whose connections and influence he just didn't know and therefore was over his head.

"Nobody walks in here and messes with the Marshalls," Harry promised, pointing a shaking finger at the old guy. "Here at Xavier, we- we take care of our friends."

Then he all but fled down the hallway, jumped down a stairwell and power-walked across The Lawn as rapidly as he dared. He knew he had to appear worried to anyone who could see his expression, but he couldn't just go sprinting around like there was a fire. That would mean even more stares, more questions. Jeez, that old guy was scary. It was like he'd done a Master's in Badass with a Minor in Intimidating Stares.

After making it to the bathroom closest to his next class, Harry dug out his phone and sent a new plan to Trevor. A million rumors about what happened in the parking lot would be circulating Xavier by the end of today, muddying the waters so much that no one, not even this mysterious, hawk-eyed old dude, could see- or show anyone else- what was at the bottom.

ΩΩΩΩΩ

Josh Marshall, Junior, put his head in his hands as Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs left the room again. It was a tactic of his, one of several. Questioning him and Riley Janssen alone, questioning them together, leaving them alone, and now, leaving them together here in this meeting room. Just letting them stew. This had been going on for… forever. More than an hour, easy.

Trying to deceive the veteran detective had gone out the window immediately; it had only briefly entered Josh's mind. He had been raised to be better than that, had been taught not to lie his entire life. And even if he had wanted to, he was dealing with Leroy Jethro Gibbs, the man who had saved Dad in the Gulf War.

Whether he knew it or not, Gibbs was a legend in the Marshall household. His name was spoken with a reverence by Josh and his siblings, as if syllables alone conveyed what it meant to be a man of honor.

There was no way Josh would willingly lie to such a man. He deserved nothing but the truth.

As Agent Gibbs closed the door to the meeting room, Josh sighed.

"My Dad's gonna kill me."

"Well, I sure hope he does," Riley retorted. "Hey, you think I can watch?"

"Maybe you oughta stay in the fucking hospital next time," Josh replied with icy calm. "Enjoy those bruises tomorrow, by the way. My pleasure. Your face looks like shit."

"I always hated you fucking rich kids," Janssen remarked, glaring furiously at Josh. "Looking forward to actually facing consequences for once?"

Josh was about to say something nasty when he felt a sharp pain in his side again. He winced and put a hand to his right back pocket.

"Oh, what now?" Janssen asked irritably.

Ignoring him, Josh reached into the pocket the pain was coming from and fished out the key for his brother's car. The bulbous, squared-off black plastic fob had broken in the fight, allowing the metal key itself to hang at a clearly-unintended angle. The polished silver of the "winged B" still gleamed in the light coming in from the windows, but Josh's heart sank all the same.

"Oh… shit," Josh sighed, unable to think of anything else. He tossed the broken key fob down on the solid oak table. It landed with an audible "thunk" and slid a few inches toward where Janssen was sitting on the opposite side.

Janssen frowned at the damaged key fob, momentarily distracted. "What the hell is that? What's a 'B'? Did the M and the W go MIA or something?"

"Never seen the keys to a damn Bentley before?" Josh sneered. "Maybe you would have if your parents really loved you."

Rage flared again in the other boy's eyes. "You better stop now," he warned.

"Or you'll what?" Josh demanded. "You busted the keys to my brother's Bentley-"

"You started that fight, buddy."

"I'm not your buddy."

"Yeah, I'm just the guy that's gonna shove that stupid Bentley up your snobby ass if you keep talking."

Josh felt himself getting angry, as angry as he'd been out in the parking lot. "You'll regret that," he promised, pointing at Janssen.

"You better be glad Gibbs saved your ass," Janssen said. "I'd have fucked you up if he hadn't stopped me, rich kid."

"What you don't get is that you were fighting a black belt," Josh replied. "And not just any black belt. The Way of the Fist, man. No Mercy. If Agent Gibbs hadn't stopped me, I would've put your lights out. I can do it."

"Whatever you say, rich kid."

"For someone who says he hates rich kids so much you sure wanna date one," Josh remarked. "With me, it makes sense, I mean- Makayla could've told you who I am, and that her sister's taken. The Wallaces are rich, man, more than you'd believe."

"You're dating Melissa?" Janssen asked, frowning uncertainly.

"Man," Josh sighed, "is that bruising going to your head? Yes, I'm dating her. She's my whole world. You wouldn't understand."

"Make sure to thank her for leaving Mak out to dry all the time," Janssen snapped, folding his arms over his chest. "She's a great big sister."

"Oh, so she's Mak to you, huh?" Josh asked, grinning humorlessly. "My, my. Got a thing for Wallace girls, huh? Can't say I blame you; they're as beautiful as they are classy. But, uh, lemme tell you, dude, I wasn't kidding about you not meeting the dress code. I showed up for this year's senior class party in a convertible that costs three-hundred grand, in a bathing suit that cost a thousand. The watch I got Missy for her birthday was a Rolex. She wears it every day."

Janssen sighed explosively. "I don't care. Stop bragging. You're lying, anyway."

"Am I?" Josh demanded. "I'm the one that goes to this school, genius, and there really is a 2006 Bentley Azure outside that's registered to my brother. Harry Potter and Woodes Rogers rode with Chris and me in it to the pool party in June and trust me, we got noticed. Just like we wanted."

"God, dude, what is your fucking point?" Janssen burst out.

"My point-" Josh smiled. "I don't know, did you have plans for a date with Makayla today? I can get new keys to the Bentley easy. Feel like driving it for that date later? That Azure's so smooth you'll think you're sitting in an office chair in a millionaire's house."

"Huh?" Janssen asked, frowning uncertainly. "What're you talking about?"

Josh dropped the act and shook his head in disgust. "Fuck, dude, I was joking! Hell no I'm not loaning you my brother's car! I'd rather run it into a lake!"

"So are you gonna get to the point or not?"

"My point is that I have all stuff I said plus a Range Rover and I still don't know if it'll be enough to impress my girl's parents. You think I'm snobby? Wait 'till Makayla starts getting ideas about making whatever you two have going on 'official'. Like, 'I want you to meet my parents' official." Josh shook his head. "This is a world you've never even seen before. You just don't know how fast Mrs. Wallace will toss you outta the house. You're just poor trash to her. You'll see. You'll see soon enough."

"You shut up."

Josh shrugged. "I'm only telling you what's gonna happen if you get any more involved with Makayla. I hope you weren't planning on asking her out again, or whatever. I know more about her family than you do, and seriously- if I'm worried about Missy's mom liking me, what chance do you have?"

"I said shut up!"

"You better walk away from Makayla now. If you stay, all you'll get is pain. Maybe her mother will accept me, but she'll never give you a second look." Josh shrugged again, adjusting the family crest pendant over his tie. "Don't take it so personal, dude. Some families are just better than others." Suddenly Josh grinned. "You know, like mine versus yours."

Something deadly sparked in Janssen's eyes, and he stood up so fast that his leather swivel chair almost fell over. He started around the closest end of the table.

"Hey, man," Josh warned, "you better not-"

Janssen was getting closer. A lot closer. Taken by surprise, Josh tried to gather himself, but Janssen moved in and put a grip of steel to his neck, pressing the silver chain of the family crest pendant into Josh's skin. Josh tucked his neck in and made to push Janssen away, but he mostly just succeeded in keeping the airway open a little bit. This wasn't good. He was going to have to-

"Hey! Hey, can I get through one phone call without the two of you trying to kill each other?" Agent Gibbs demanded, rushing in from the doorway and forcing the two boys apart.

Josh took a ragged breath, let it out. "That was my fault, sir… provoked him."

"You still want more?" Janssen snarled, but Gibbs kept him at bay.

"Riley, I told you, let me handle this!"

"I don't have to listen to you!"

"Sir, I said that was my fault," Josh gasped. "He thinks I called him trash."

"You did, asshole!"

"I said Mrs. Wallace is gonna think you are," Josh replied.

"What about in the parking lot? Huh? C'mon, let's go right now!"

"Jeez, man," Josh burst out, "when's enough enough for you?"

"C'mere and I'll show you!"

"Riley," Gibbs ordered, "calm down! Take a deep breath and calm down. The fight's over. I don't care what he said."

"I know he's… got a thing for… my girlfriend's… sister," Josh managed to say, still getting his breath back. "His parents are… big shots. High-class as hell. He… there's no chance. Sir." He paused. "That's all I said, sir."

"You fucking liar!" Janssen snarled. "Howbout going on and on about your brother's stupid piece of shit Bentley and your thousand-dollar underwear and-"

"I was just proving my point!" Josh interrupted. "It's the truth, man."

"Riley, take a seat for a minute. We're going soon."

"Yeah," Janssen sighed, "whatever." He glared daggers at Gibbs and at Josh, then went to take a seat as far from the both of them as possible.

Curiosity momentarily overrode the pain, and Josh called out, "Why do you talk to him like that? Don't know greatness when you see it?"

Janssen scoffed, slouching in his chair. "Greatness."

"You wouldn't talk like that if you'd seen his medals."

"Fuck his medals."

That got Josh standing upright again, but suddenly the pain quadrupled and he nearly threw up. He hunched over, taking small, careful breaths, counting backwards from ten.

"Take it easy," Gibbs said. "Easy. Just breathe, okay? Can you do that?"

Josh nodded. "Yessir."

"Does America's Versailles have an infirmary?"

"Versailles-" Josh coughed a few times, managing to fit in a few laughs as well. "Yeah- yes, sir. Mrs. Byron heads it up."

"I told your old man I'd send you there," Gibbs went on. "Can you get there by yourself?"

"Yessir," Josh said, nodding. He gasped, winced. "I'll be fine."

"How're those nuts feeling, rich boy?" Janssen asked waspishly, but Gibbs interrupted him from saying more.

"Riley, we'll talk this out soon enough, believe me! Just take a breath and wait a minute!"

"Whatever, man."

"He seriously has no right… talking like that, sir," Josh remarked.

"Don't you worry about him," Gibbs said. "Just focus on getting to the infirmary. You can make it. I know Marshalls are built tough."

"Yessir," Josh nodded, "we are."

"All right. Better get going and make sure you're okay. I'm sure we'll talk again."

"Yessir," Josh said. "I hope we do. Different from this, I mean. Uh, sir."

"Oh, just go kiss his ass already!"

"You show him some respect!" Josh half-shouted back. "What the hell's the matter with you?!"

"Son," Gibbs said firmly but gently, "go get checked out. Don't worry about me. I'll take care of Riley."

Josh nodded. He wanted to say more, wanted to apologize, say "Thank you for saving my Dad," and kick Riley clear off the Xavier grounds all at once. Most of all, Josh wanted to express what an honor it was to finally meet the one and only Leroy Jethro Gibbs, but words failed him. The moment was too awkward, too unexpected.

With no further options left to him, Josh scooped up the broken Bentley keys and pocketed them, did his best to straighten his school uniform, and headed out the conference room door.

ΩΩΩΩΩ

"-so anyway, I told Nicole to tell him to get lost already; it's not like he ever had a chance with her. But I think she kind of likes, him, you know? Because she keeps letting him hang around."

Brittany Marshall shook her head, trying not to laugh. Jessica Adams just had to fill all her friends in on the latest gossip, and being ranked among the coolest of the cool out of Xavier Prep's 8th grade girls, Brittany was one of the first Jessica would always talk to.

"Is it true your brother beat up that dude who's been showing up in that old heap lately?" Jessica asked curiously. "Everyone's saying they had a fight."

"I don't know," Brittany admitted. "I haven't had a chance to talk to Josh, and Chris is still resting, and Cassandra's probably gonna just kill both of them."

"A lot of the senior boys are super pissed-"

"I'm pissed, Jess. I don't like anybody messing with my family." Brittany stared her friend down for a few moments, then turned back to what she'd been doing.

Going through her locker one more time, Brittany finally located her English class notebook. She yanked it out of the stack of textbooks and notebooks, only to practically fling it out into the hallway.

"Aw, d-darn it," Brittany grouched. "I'll get it."

"Brit, just make some kid on aid get it for you," Jessica cracked, laughing at her own joke.

The hallway was pretty crowed right now, and Brittany wanted that notebook. She wasn't going to come to class looking like an idiot. She dodged through the sea of students as quick as she could, but swore under her breath when someone stepped on it, leaving a nice, dusty shoeprint on the front cover.

More determined than ever to get to that stupid notebook, Brittany got within arm's reach, knelt-

-and slapped her hand right on top of Sean Harrington's. He looked up with those cool blue eyes, briefly surprised, and seemed genuinely startled when he met Brittany's gaze.

"Oh, uh- hey," he said, flashing a brilliant white smile.

"Hey."

"Here, lemme get this for you," Sean said. He picked the notebook up and stood, brushing it off carefully.

"I can get it," Brittany insisted, but without any force; she was too busy looking at that stylish cut Sean had going on with his golden blond hair. How much had he paid a stylist to get it looking like that? He could have walked off a modeling poster for Ralph Lauren or Brooks Brothers.

"I don't mind," Sean said, flashing another smile- that one was definitely on purpose. "Let's get back to your locker. I don't wanna make you late for your class."

"Aren't you in my class?" Brittany asked, recalling that Sean Harrington sat second from the front, far right side of the classroom. He'd won school-wide fame for mooning Georgetown Prep during a heated exchange during a JV soccer game, and expanded that incident into a universal reputation as an incorrigible showboater, prankster, and romantic. He was fit, classically handsome, and a gifted runner and soccer goalie.

"Sure am," Sean nodded. He smiled. "Well, look, here's your notebook. I hope I cleaned it off all right."

"It's fine," Brittany said, appreciatively noticing that the dusty footprint was all but gone.

"So," Sean went on, "I- uh- I was wondering, did you have any big plans this weekend?"

OhmyGod!

"Maybe," Brittany replied, trying to seem nonchalant.

"Well, if you want, we could go ice skating. I think that'd be really… cool."

"Oh, wow," Brittany said, but she laughed.

Sean started to reply, but a red-haired girl slipped on the polished floor and practically crashed into Brittany, practically knocking her sideways into her locker. Jessica, who had been watching the scene with Sean and Brittany play out with gleeful fascination, emitted a startled squawk and stumbled back against her own locker without any further assistance.

"Watch it!" Sean barked, stepping forward and shoving the girl hard. She fell, and he glared down at her. "You're not special! But she is, so apologize!"

"S-sorry," the girl blurted, already crying. "I'm sorry-"

"Sean," Brittany began, "you don't have to-"

"I got this," Sean assured her. He turned back to the red-haired girl on the floor. "Oh, God, it's you," Sean hissed. "Why don't you just get outta here, nobody here wants to listen to you cry!"

"Sean, you help her up right now," an older girl interrupted. "Or I'll give you something else to worry about."

Looking like he wanted to argue, Sean rounded on his sister, but Lynn Harrington just stared him down, arms crossed. Gradually Sean deflated, and finally he turned back to Makayla Wallace.

"I'm sorry I was mean to you," Sean told her. He knelt and reached out a hand. "I'm just stressed 'cause it's close to exams."

Makayla looked like she wanted to jump up and flee at top speed, but Lynn gently set a hand on her shoulder. "Listen. My brother's an idiot sometimes. It doesn't mean anybody here hates you."

Brittany hesitantly spoke up again. "Uh- is this really the best place-"

"Sean decided he wanted this to happen right here, so it's all happening right here," Lynn replied calmly. "Maybe he should think more before he starts something."

"I-I gotta go," Makayla Wallace said, and she fled down the hall, into the crowd. Brittany spotted her going into the girls' bathroom.

"Oh, man," Lynn sighed. "Brittany, you get to class before Cassandra levels a city block or something. She's on patrol on this floor today and she's in no mood. Sean, you better hope Makayla Wallace isn't in there crying."

"Aw, jeez, Lynn," Sean whined, "can't you just leave me alone? You're embarrassing me!"

Lynn turned and glared down at her brother. "Let me catch you bullying a kid, any kid, one more time. I'm not a prefect, but guess what, plenty of my friends are. Brittany, you sure you still wanna let this bum take you out?"

Brittany and Sean had not-so-secretly been swapping looks and asking their friends about each other for… weeks. It was all so confusing. A lot of rumors had been flying around since August that this boy or that boy was gonna ask Brittany out, but Sean was the first who'd seriously tried it. The Marshall name was intimidating, and not only was Sean Harrington brave enough to ask anyway, he'd done it with style.

Plus, all Brittany could come up with right now was seeing him half-naked and sweaty at the end of a shirts-and-skins soccer game one afternoon. He hadn't seen her, but she'd seen him, and the view had been spectacular. Why was that all Brittany could think of right here, right now? Why?

"I-I-" Brittany stammered. She tried to call on her elder sister's steel nerves and intimidating manner, but Sean Harrington, no shirt on a hot day, just kept coming back. "I… well- I-"

Lynn sighed. "It's okay. I get it. Seriously, go to class. Sean, you'll always be my brother, but right now, I'd like to trade you for someone else." She left, heading for the girls' bathroom.

Sean looked at his sister, then over at Brittany, then Jessica, then the students who'd been standing around, watching the scene. That last seemed to do him in. Sean spun around so fast he almost tripped on his own feet. "Uh- I could- carry your books," he blurted, looking almost desperately at Brittany.

"Sure," Brittany agreed, practically throwing the books at him in her hurry to get out of there.

"Let's get to class," Jessica said quickly.

"Sorry about my sister," Sean said in a hushed voice. "My Dad's got a great driver. He won't bother us."

"Okay."

"Yeah."

Neither of them said anything, but Brittany was grateful for the excuse to just walk forward and pretend nothing else was happening right this second. This was all too much. Her first serious date had just been set in motion, except Makayla Wallace had shown up, and now Sean Harrington, the 8th grade King of Cool, had lost his cool, and Brittany felt mortified like never before. She could feel the stares from open classroom doors, from the students still in the hallway.

Maybe Sean had done the right thing. Brittany had been keeping a safe distance from Makayla Wallace this fall, eager as she was to make the right impression and avoid "losers" and "problems." Though newer rumors said she was some kind of art prodigy, Brittany had heard the other stories plenty of times, and one of those was that Makayla Wallace was just not meant for Xavier, that she brought trouble and Drama everywhere she went.

The normally-orderly House Marshall was in an uproar right now. Chris had been hurt and Josh was out of his mind over it, Cassandra was doing her best to imitate a time-bomb, Dad was bringing out the iron fist and… it just went on.

Maybe she is nothing but trouble, Brittany thought ruefully. I've seen her around, we sit in a few of the same classes. And now look. All she needed to do was bump into me and it's messed up a whole day for me. A whole day. Sean's probably rethinking even asking me out. Amazing. Wonderful. Just wonderful.

ΩΩΩΩΩ

Mrs. Byron, the head nurse, looked up from her desk as Josh came in out of the bitter cold, and immediately gave an exasperated sigh.

"Josh Marshall, what have you gotten yourself into now?"

"Aw, it wasn't that bad, Mrs. Byron," Josh fussed sheepishly, looking away. He winced and hunched over, but still went on, "I'm fine."

"You walked over here looking like this to tell me you're fine?" Mrs. Byron asked, shaking her head. "All right, what happened? It's just me and Mr. Davis right now, so talk away. And have a seat right now."

"Yes, ma'am," Josh said, taking a spot on the waiting area's padded bench. "I just got in a fight, Mrs. Byron; that's all."

"Did the other kid give you a good kick or two?"

Josh blushed. "Aww, c'mon, Mrs. Byron," he whined. "I'm okay, I just got kicked in the nuts-"

"-And that means you're getting checked out for bruising, for starters," Mrs. Byron finished for him. "Into the first examination room over there, Mister Marshall. And don't argue with me. Down to your underwear with the door closed. I'm sending over to Mrs. Jacobs at the tailor's and getting you another uniform. That one's going to the dry cleaner's this afternoon."

"Yes, ma'am," Josh said, getting up slowly.

"Can you tell me who it was?" Mrs. Byron asked.

After a moment's thought, Josh shook his head. He was going to be in enough trouble just with Dad over this. People would find out and they were going to ask questions about the fight. Above all, they were going to talk, talk, talk.

Josh had enough to worry about. Mrs. Byron could be trusted- many Xavier students had confided in her over the years- but Josh just needed to keep this one for himself. At least for now.

"No, ma'am, I can't," Josh said.

"As long as this isn't going to court, I suppose I can let that go. At least for now," Mrs. Byron said resignedly. "Into the exam room. I'll call your parents and let them know you're over here."

"Yes, ma'am."

ΩΩΩΩΩ

Five minutes later, Josh was blushing as red as his neatly-combed hair while Mr. Davis, the deputy around here, poked and prodded and asked him a lot of questions he didn't like answering at all. Sitting naked on the thinly-padded bed didn't exactly help matters, and it was damn near freezing in here.

But the good news was, everything was working fine, no lasting harm done. Josh pretended to brush that off like he'd expected it all along, but he felt immensely relieved all the same. He was a skilled and gifted fighter and had never lost once in his life, not outside of the training mat in the dojo or the boxing ring. But that Janssen kid had gotten him good. Twice. It was as painful to his pride as it was to his favorite-

"Josh? Hello! Josh?"

"Yeah?" Josh asked, snapping out of his reverie. He pulled a face. "Mr. Davis, can I please get dressed already?"

The 30-year-old man pulled off his examination gloves, put some hand sanitizer on the ebony-brown skin, and said, "Well, I simply don't know. Can you?"

Josh sighed in exasperation. "Mr. Davis, sir, may I please get dressed already?"

"Yes, you certainly may. As I said, there's been no lasting harm done. As I said you'll want to take it easy for the next few days and come back here in a week to be sure."

Reaching for his boxers, Josh wondered again why on Earth this place had to have an ex-British Army medic hanging around, but refrained from asking that aloud. Mr. Davis was a good guy but he was bossy and officious as hell. But just as Mrs. Byron was, the kids here liked him, trusted him. He was a professional above all else.

Mrs. Byron had been as good as her word; in just a few minutes she'd gotten another Brooks Brothers navy blue blazer sent over, pinned Josh's silver Prefect badge to it, even made sure that the white t-shirt and khaki pants- also Brooks Brothers- were exactly Josh's hand-measured size. It all fit perfectly, right down to the black dress socks.

Once he was fully dressed again, Josh spent at least twenty minutes in front of a mirror, fixing his hair and doing his best to look like he hadn't been in a fight at all. Luckily, Janssen hadn't gotten any good blows to the face. The worst of it had been below the belt. Janssen, on the other hand, would probably be feeling the full impact of Josh's strength and skill as a fighter tomorrow when all the bruising really started.

Still, none of that changed the fact that execution was coming, scheduled whenever Dad happened to get here. As Josh waited back out on that bench again, he sat with his elbows on his thighs, trying to replay the day in his head, wondering how he'd gotten himself into this. He wished Chris were here. Chris could have helped Josh sort through this.

Even now, being separated from his twin pained Josh. They had spent more time apart in the past few days than they had in the last sixteen years. A lifetime of never being separated for even twenty-four hours, and now everything had changed. It was all Riley Janssen's fault. Josh may have regretted stirring up so much trouble for Agent Gibbs, who seemed to have taken custody of Janssen or something, but he didn't really regret giving Riley what he fully deserved. Nobody crossed the Marshall family without paying for it.

Maybe we're becoming like Dad wants, like the Malfoys or something, Josh thought. Except without serving an evil overlord and everything. Christ. We're not like that. We just make you pay if you fuck with us. Dad said that's okay, but I doubt he meant fight some poor kid in the parking lot. Jeez. I'm gonna die.

Josh looked up and glanced out the windowpanes of the infirmary door. No sign of Dad yet. Oh, he and Mom were gonna string Josh up over the interstate somewhere. Maybe he could see Melissa one more time in private as a last request.

"Mrs. Byron, may I please have my phone back?"

"It's charging behind the desk here."

"But I gotta talk to my girl. And my friends. They're all gonna want to know where I am."

"Don't even try to tell me Harry Potter, Trevor Bedford, and Woodes Rogers aren't all spinning up some story to cover for you," Mrs. Byron replied, giving Josh a mildly reproachful look.

Josh hesitated. "Um- you know, they, um, probably… well, I guess… I mean, gonna be honest, they probably are."

"They definitely are. If Harry doesn't take over his dad's banks, he'll be trying to get you to hire him as your PR agent."

"But they don't have PR agents in the Marines."

"Tell him that." Mrs. Byron laughed, shaking her head. "He certainly turned Trevor Bedford around with you, didn't he? That fight you two had back in August…"

"Yeah, I remember, Mrs. Byron," Josh replied, managing to laugh. "Scared the hel-heck out of some newbies, too. Karate in the halls!"

"And were your parents very happy about that?"

"Um, no."

"Was Dr. Jenkins?"

"No. Uh- I'm honestly- ma'am, I can't lose my Prefect's badge!" Josh frowned, worried in a whole new way. "I just can't, ma'am. That wouldn't be- I can't- I can't have that happen."

"First things first, Josh."

"Yeah. I mean, yes, m-"

The infirmary door opened, and Dad walked in. Erect, lean, a living, breathing monument to power, to dignity, to charisma and success, he closed the door behind him and carefully shook the snow off his heavy black overcoat before sweeping his iron gaze down on the teen who carried his name into the next generation.

It was a burden as well as a gift, and right now, it definitely felt more the former.

"Mrs. Byron," Josh Marshall, Senior said politely, "thank you for taking such good care of my son. My thanks to Mr. Davis, too. Is he around?"

"He stepped out for just a minute, sir," Mrs. Byron replied. "Your boy's perfectly fine, but he'll be a little sore for a couple of days, most likely."

"Yes, I heard all about it," Dad said neutrally. "Would you mind if I took him off your hands? I think it would be best if I headed back to Administration and signed him out for the day."

"Not at all," Mrs. Byron answered. "Please give Elizabeth my best. I wish all the school Governors had her wonderful gift with people. She's very well-liked and respected around here, just as you are."

"I will," Dad promised. "Thank you again."

After signing a few things, Dad swept out the door into the moderate snowfall, correctly assuming Josh would follow closely behind. Heart pounding, cheeks burning despite the cold, Josh thought of a million explanations and apologies as Dad strode back across The Lawn to sign him out, then out to the diesel Suburban that Dad liked so much.

As the diesel cranked up and Dad backed out of the parking space, Josh blurted out, "GottagetnewkeysfortheBentleyDad."

"I'll take care of it," Dad replied. "And I'll make sure to get the wipers raised on the Azure and the Range Rover so they don't get stuck."

"Thanks, Dad."

"You're welcome," Dad replied. Whatever his mood was, Dad never failed to help his kids. Never. It was one of the many reasons all five of his children would have gladly followed him anywhere, just like his Marines.

"Dad, I left my phone-"

"No, you didn't," Dad answered. "I got it with me."

"Yessir." Josh figured he must not have been paying much attention; even now, his time in the infirmary was a blur, all mixed together, like the rest of the day was whenever he tried to remember.

It figures that Dad could pick up my phone and I just didn't even notice.

Only when they got back to the hotel and Josh Senior and Junior were alone in that reserved meeting room did the topic of the day get addressed.

Dad sat down in the chair beside Josh, stared at him for a moment, then spoke one simple, irresistible command.

"Talk."

A/N: 7-16-2020

So, fun story! I *originally* wrote and published this on 7-16-2020; made a big push to get it done during the week. Unsurprisingly, I overlooked many shortcomings and omitted content I should have included.

I don't know whether I can really defend Harry's decision to try 'persuading' Gibbs not to press the matter at Xavier, but as elitist and arrogant as Harry is, he is humane, generous and loyal to those he views as friends and marks as equals. He values his friendship with Josh and believes he is protecting his friend and doing right by him by guarding him against a possible threat.

Sean Harrington is based off of two boys about that age that I knew in real life. Both could be and often were intelligent, polite, came from stable homes- but they could both be mean, even cruel to other kids sometimes, especially if they thought that kid was "beneath" them, namely in terms of having less money or social status, or both. Bullies are rarely the abject, desperately insecure failures American society seems to want them to be. They're in reality among the best-liked and most confident individuals in their peer group, with confidence to spare. It's difficult realizing someone with so many genuinely likeable characteristics can also be a bully. That's a much harder truth to face.

Xavier Preparatory School is going to have elitism and arrogance going around quite a bit; it has an unfortunate tendency to come with the territory for young people who have grown up with a LOT and know it. It's easy, especially without the maturity needed for balance, to think that superiority by happenstance- being born to the manor and not the apartment or the farmhouse- means superiority in all things. Good parenting can do a great deal of good to counter that mentality.

I'd say, overall, that Xavier has its bullies but not in some vastly higher percentage than a standard American public school. I think people unfamiliar with private schooling tend to focus on fictional depictions of private schools, which typically present at least a handful of bullies and/or snobby elites who look down on the kid with the scholarship.

A Bentley is an extremely ostentatious car; it's designed to be that way. Michael Winner described them as "I've got a lot of money, and here's proof of it: I've bought this car!" That Bentley will be seen up close later on, not that it's suddenly becoming a major plot device or anything.

The scene with Brittany Marshall, Jessica Adams (an OC introduced by Jenny wrens in "Adjustments," Chapter 19), Sean Harrington and Lynn Harrington was not originally going to be in this chapter. I added it last-minute, but honestly, I'm glad I did. Unlike Makayla Wallace, Brittany Marshall has fit in well with the popular students right from the start, and her opinion carries a lot of weight with the rest of the popular 8th graders. She's fair and humane, however, and her status hasn't gone to her head, so she didn't hesitate to take Sean Harrington to task when he bullied Makayla so casually.

Jenny wrens is a major driving force in my work on this story; it's based off and inspired by her work, after all. Be sure to read and review her work to your heart's content!