Disclaimer: I do not own.

The Ballad of Honor and Tess

The Best Intentions

When there's a doubt in your mind
'Cos you think it all the time,
Framing rights into wrongs,
Move along, move along
When there's a doubt in your mind.

When there's a burning in your heart
And you think it'll rest apart,
Oh, there's nothing left to fear
Save the tears, save the tears
When there's a burning in your heart.

And if you feel just like a tourist in the city you were born
Then, it's time to go.
And if you find your destination with so many different places to call home,
And if you call yourself a villain,
In the story you have written
It's plain to see that sometimes the best intentions
Are in need of redemptions.
~You Are A Tourist, Death Cab for Cutie

.

Babies are born every day. Each one is brought bloodily into this world, and each breath is a miracle. When you stop and consider all the dangers we face each day, it's a miracle any of us are here. Alexander Summers, Jr. was born at a healthy eight pounds with little hair and strong limbs. He was born ready to go – just like his parents. As I held him, wrapped up as tightly as a football, he kicked his little legs and punched his little arms. Ms. Frost-Summers said he'd been moving non-stop the entire pregnancy, and she was glad to have him out. I wasn't entirely sure why she named her son after her husband's brother, but if Mr. Alex had been supporting her the way he did Maddie, then he deserved the honor. I suspected that she intended to name her son Scott Summers, Jr., but now that the two of them were separated, decided against it. No one dared to ask; we all pretended it was the most normal thing in the world. It was a little awkward being around her again… I would've apologized and tried to explain that I hadn't intentionally tried to kill her, but I know her, and she didn't want my "excuses". As for patching things up, that's what this whole day was about. My family and I were meeting with the Summers's to see if we couldn't reach an understanding. It was a smart move on his end; my Momma seeking revenge would only end badly for him. I wasn't afraid of Mr. Summers, but I understood that my family didn't need him as an enemy. And if he were to remain our enemy – he needed to be kept close. In rather typical fashion for him, he'd already moved on to next crisis without bothering to conclude this one. The nation island of Genosha, where he'd chosen to establish his new Headquarters, was sinking. If he could not find a way to stabilize it, he would have to evacuate and re-locate. The citizens were very uncertain of the future, and resident nations turned greedy eyes towards the mutant nation. It was a crisis, surely, but his marriage was in ruins, he had a new baby boy, his long-lost daughter had returned to him, and his team was torn apart by his latest decisions… He had many problems. Why should Genosha take center stage? The only reason he'd returned to the States at all was because my Tante Ro and Mr. Alex Summers had insisted on it.

His reluctance was probably the only thing about Mr. Summers that I understood. I didn't want to be around these people, either! I was still a little sore towards Momma. My parents were still angry with each other, although that feud took second status to the arguments between Papa and Rogue. He found out that she knew about the spell and didn't tell him or confront my mother; she was sore over Lila. Worse, Momma and Rogue bore a grudge – Momma felt like Rogue had forced us into danger by going after my father, Rogue thought Momma escalated the whole situation by fortifying herself and firing on Sam and the others. The three of them tried to put up a good front, but we kids knew the truth. René and I – and the kiddies, too – were glad to be all together again. But the tangled web of love and hate would have to wait to be sorted. Regardless of our feelings, we needed to appear united, so that's what we did. We would face the world together.

The trip wasn't a complete farce, though.

Nate and Rachel were still at Ms. Frost-Summers' new home when we arrived. They'd come to see the baby, too: their new brother. If I'd never known them and walked into that house as a stranger, I would've thought they were the closest of kin. It was refreshing to see them happy together, and their good attitude was contagious. Momma complimented the new baby and mother endlessly until Ms. Frost-Summers glowed anew. Papa and Rogue flirted with the idea of getting their own infant, but I knew they weren't taking it seriously. I was sincerely polite to everyone, but stayed nearest to Nate. I wanted to hug my friend and tell him I understood why he had to try and help his father, and I hoped he'd forgive me for my errors. But he was holding his little brother in his metallic hands and looked so nervous that I didn't dare try to test him.

Ollie looked at the baby and then at Ms. Frost-Summers, and I watched an epiphany wash over his little face. "You had another one?"

"It would appear so," she said coolly.

"Where's Megan?" he asked.

"Sleeping. As all good children do."

The twins were only two when Megan was born, and Becca hadn't shown much interest. But with baby Alex, she was very curious. She climbed on Nate's lap and peered at his little face and asked, "What's his name?"

"Alexander."

"Where… did he come from?"

"Huh – his mother. Emma. Would you like to hold him?"

She shook her head 'no' and leaned back. After she realized Nate wouldn't try to talk her into it, she re-approached the baby. I could see her little mind working, too. She was trying to put the pieces together, but the parts weren't adding up to the sum. And then – of all the things she could've asked – she said, "He was born naked, wasn't he?"

We all laughed at her, but she was quite serious.

"Oui, petite," Papa said, "We come in wit' not'ing and dat's how we go out."

Baby Alexander opened his little mouth and started crying. Nate tried to pass him off to Emma, but she shook her head and handed him a diaper. I thought that was a little rude – this wasn't Nate's child – but it was his brother and his father was nowhere in sight. So Nate very, very carefully laid the baby down and unwrapped him. It was probably the longest diaper change ever, and Baby Alexander wailed the whole time – but he got it done. Then he attempted to re-wrap the blanket without lifting or disturbing the baby at all.

"That's fine if you're using tape," I pushed him aside and wrapped up Baby Alex again. Once cradled in my arms, he stopped crying, but continued to squirm and look around. He couldn't even see – not well, at least, but his eyes fluttered to everything in the room.

"He's ready to get moving," I said.

"Y' know what dat means…" Started Papa.

And Rogue finished, "He's gettin' out of the way for the next one."

"Maybe from you," Ms. Frost-Summers snapped. "My child bearing days are behind me. Just look at me! Disgusting! I suppose sagging breasts and stretch marks are the sign of a good Cajun wife, but I'd like to retain some sort of a presentable profile."

We all wanted to verbally lash back for one insult or another (she was good at offending many for much with few words), but it was the littlest man who won the first retort. And it wasn't even directed at her.

"No, Momma!" Ollie suddenly yelled, "Babies suck!"

Suddenly, all of Ms. Frost-Summers' petty words were… just petty. Her ugliness couldn't bring us down: not around a child's imagination and energy. We smiled at his fierce possessiveness, which was strange and amusing and wonderful in one so young.

Rogue egged him on. "What d'you mean, son?"

"I'll be your bébé! Wah-wah-wah! Dat's all babies do!"

We laughed again and all eyes moved away from Ms. Frost-Summers until her next tantrum.

…

Newborn babies are one of life's best gifts and visiting baby Alexander lifted my spirits considerably. Unfortunately, my good feelings plummeted into an icy grave after we left. Logan escorted us to Xavier Academy, where my family was meeting with the Summers's to negotiate a truce. The school was void of students and currently under Tante Ro's care, so it served as perfectly neutral ground. Anticipating a negative outcome, the meeting was arranged so that both parties arrived and left on different routes and with neutral escorts. I didn't want to drag this out any longer, but I wasn't ready to bury the hatchet, either. Couldn't he just… go away?

I know the X-Men usually met in the War Room when holding group discussions, but this matter wasn't war related. Actually, it kind of was, but I guess no one wanted to admit it. Or maybe Tante Ro didn't want us to have the access codes. More likely, she just wanted to keep this casual and put us at ease, so we met in the breakfast parlor. The curtains were thrown open – it was a beautiful day outside – and the room had recently been polished. Tante Ro had more natural tastes than Xavier, so the parlor was decorated with flowerless, green ferns and ficus trees. The furniture was polished oak and white cotton, so that I half-expected to be served warm tea and play cricket. It was an enormous change from mahogany and leather: more feminine and less oppressive. My tante herself was dressed in a loose, flowing dress that was impeccably white and made her skin glow. Her long, white hair was regally pulled back, and her face was quite stern, but she wore sandals and no bra. I couldn't tell if she'd put much thought into this meeting or not. When she entered, the tension in the room quieted, even though my family and the Summers's had largely ignored each other. We sat on opposing sides of the table and the adults all glared at each other. I found my father's gaze particularly fierce, but Mr. Summers never buckled. Rogue and Ms. Frost-Summers were present, too, but with baby Alex in Emma's arms between them, I doubted they'd come to blows. Momma and Renegade were there, too, although we'd had to force them to come along. No one truly wanted to be there, but only the kiddies got to miss out. The twins, Hero, and Megan were outside with Logan, who refused to participate. (I was a little hurt that he wouldn't stand with us, and at the time, I thought my actions were the reason. But later, I would come to understand Logan's nature didn't allow for him to take sides.) Lastly, Nate was seated at the end of the table across from me: we served as a physical buffer between our parents and Tante Ro. Although I desperately wanted to talk to him, I didn't dare. Truthfully, I wanted to be invisible.

The only sound in the world was the sound of my heart beating when Tante Ro entered and took her seat at the head of the table. She laced her fingers and looked around at everyone like she spoke in a voice like thunder.

"Before we begin, I would like to establish some ground rules so that we all know what is to be expected. First, you shall all be given the opportunity to speak, so please allow others the courtesy to speak. Secondly, you shall refrain from placing blame on anyone excluding yourself. You have the rest of your lives to slander each other, but that is not the reason for coming here today. And finally, though I hope this goes without saying – there shall be no altercations of any kind, today or hereafter. Is that understood?"

No one spoke, but I nodded affirmatively.

"Then I shall begin by reiterating the facts," Tante Ro continued. "If there are any mistakes, you may make your corrections after I have finished, but please focus on the facts. And afterwards, we shall discuss how to… amend the situation, if not the relationship. Agreed? Then I shall begin with Remy's conversion, since that seems to be the starting point." She tapped on the table in front of her, striking some buttons unseen. A hologram screen projected between my family and the Summers', so we could all see what she was reading. "On July second, between the hours of three and four a.m., Gambit attacked Honor but was interrupted by Rogue and Bella Donna. He was last seen leaping from the rooftop, but a search of the grounds revealed nothing. At eight-twenty a.m., Rogue contacted Cyclops and requested his help."

"Pleaded, actually," Mr. Summers interrupted.

Tante Ro put up a hand to stop him and kept reading. "Her exact words, as recorded by Cerebra's files are: 'I don't think I can handle him anymore. He would've killed us all in our sleep if I hadn't stopped him'." She paused for dramatic effect. "Strong words, indeed. Cyclops agreed to locate and apprehend Gambit. During the arrest, there was a… situation-"

"Yeah," Rogue interjected, arms crossed and leaning over the table. Her eyes bore into Ms. Frost-Summers as she seethed, "Emma tried ta lock up his mind and throw away the key!"

"Interesting connotation," she retorted, "Breaking out of prisons is what he does best. Or are you beginning to doubt his capabilities?"

"This ain't what the X-Men are about!"

"Enough!" Tante Ro didn't shout, but she came very close. "I was very serious when I forbade bickering! Another outburst and I shall let you kill each other!"

"I'm shaking," Ms. Frost-Summers said nonchalantly.

"Emma," warned Tante Ro.

"Ororo," she echoed back, arching an eyebrow daringly.

I wanted to back-hand her! Of everyone, she'd come the closest to dying. She and her son were very lucky to be alive and breathing, but here she was, challenging death again! With her child in her arms, no less! She had some nerve!

Static electricity sparked off my tante's dark skin, but her voice was steady. "For the sake of your children, will you take this mediation seriously? If I am boring you with a story you are well-versed in, then I shall get to the point. What has happened?" She waited and looked around at a silent table. "Bright Lady, do you not know? For years you have worked together without issue! Your children are peaceful together. I daresay they even love each other. But you have one altercation, and suddenly all reason is dismissed! Granted, things have escalated drastically, but I do not believe it is beyond repair. Unless you want to continue suffering over this issue, as those outside this room believe, cease with this childish contempt!"

We were silent again, but I could sense the words bubbling just below that quiet.

"Now…" Tante Ro sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Are there any false reports you would like to address at this time?"

I expected the adults to start shouting all at once, but they were quiet again. I think they were only looking to accuse each other, but if they couldn't do that, they wouldn't speak at all. Or maybe they were all waiting for someone else to apologize. Whatever the reason, no one said anything, so I spoke up.

"I have something to say… Ethan and I weren't trying to hurt anyone. Ms. Frost-Summers, you should've never confronted us on your own. The whole reason you were left behind was because Mr. Summers was trying to protect you-"

Embarrassment flashed across her face, which she then quickly covered with anger. "Don't presume to tell me my place, young lady!"

"Don't talk t' my daughter in dat tone!" Momma snapped.

"Enough!" Tante Ro shouted. Then, softly, "Honor, please continue."

"Anyways… we weren't trying to turn her into a diamond, either. It was a complete accident. Somehow… My powers merged with Ethan's and… I don't know how it happened…"

"That's not possible," said Mr. Summers. "In order for two mutant powers to merge they have to be chemically balanced. You'd have to have the same level of mutation or be a genetic twin…"

The confidence faded from his voice towards the end of his high-and-mighty speech. He and his estranged wife shared the briefest of glances, revealing a secret between them. They knew! They knew Ethan couldn't be my genetic twin because he'd been cloned from Nate… but surely they'd noticed that Ethan and Nate weren't identical. And Ethan's differences had come from someone. They must've discovered the truth when Nate was sick and we were searching for a blood donor, but chose to keep the knowledge a secret. They didn't know that Ethan and I knew, or that I'd told my family. As quickly as the glance was shared, it was covered again. Nate noticed and looked to them for an explanation, but Ms. Frost-Summers had already established a mental block to keep his telepathy from overhearing their conversation. Stupid. Mr. Summers should've learned that what he keeps from his son, I'll share, and Nate will always love me for it. But I wouldn't tell him here – where Mr. Summers could explain himself. After a moment, Nate turned his attention back to our conversation.

"I'm telling you," I said, "That's what happened."

"Thank you for your words, Honor," Tante Ro nodded once at me and then looked around patiently.

Nate sighed and appeared to be speaking to himself. "I know Honor only ran because she was scared…" He looked at me directly, "But I wish you would've come to me after the accident. I was scared, too. I didn't even know if you were alive or not… And then that thing with Emma, and my dad was looking to me for answers, blaming me for everything, when I didn't know any more than he did!"

"Nathan-"

"No, Storm; I'm sorry, but she needs to hear this!" he said, "She's responsible for more than just Emma! If you'd come to us right away, none of this would've happened! Not the siege, not Sam, and not the interview that's blown this all to hell!"

I felt like I'd been slapped.

Luckily, my father came to my rescue. "It ain't her fault. It's mine. When Beast tried t' help me, I shoulda taken 'm seriously. 'Stead I just made it hard f'r everyone who cared about me. And den… Den de darkness won. Nate, if you t'ink she deserves t' be punished for hurtin' you and yours, trust me, y' can't treat her any worse den I already did. And everyt'ing she did after dat was because a' me. Cyke… I t'ink he was tryin' t' do de right t'ing, too. I know he don' wanna see anyone hurt, either. And hell, someone came after my kids or his, I'd take 'm out. No questions. If you're lookin' for someone t' blame, it's me. T'ings got carried away. Fam'ly is… It's a volatile t'ing."

The tension in the room seemed to suddenly dissipate. We all wanted someone to blame, and with someone finally taking responsibility, we had nothing left to fight over. This didn't mean that I would hear insults about my father or throw any, but even I knew he'd been the catalyst. The acceptance made tears well up in my eyes: an effect I saw mirrored in his own. I desperately wanted to say something encouraging to him, but I had no words.

"No, don't stop there," said Ms. Frost-Summers. "Admit that you're still a threat to anyone stupid enough to trust you. That includes your teammates, your wife, your kids… Although I guess we know who you'll go after first, and I'm glad it's not anyone I care about. Don't tell me I'm the only one here who knows that."

"Emma," Mr. Summers spoke in his booming, fearless-leader voice, "That's not why we're here. We came to reach a truce, so let's get to it."

Tante Ro looked at him sideways. "Cyclops, do you have nothing to contribute to this discussion?"

"I let my actions speak for me, Storm. As for the discussion, I think it's progressed as far as it can for one day. So if you're ready, I'd like to move forward."

She nodded. "Both parties have been asked to sacrifice something to benefit the other in a gesture of hospitality and good faith. First, let us hear the other's requests. Cyclops?"

"I want the press off my back," he told my father. "I've got enough to deal with every day, just trying to protect mutant rights. I don't want to put any more effort into improving the image of the X-Men than I already have. None of this would've happened if you'd accepted our help the first time around, but everyone thinks I want you dead. Obviously, I can't convince them otherwise."

"Emma?"

"I want Cerebra back. Can you give me that?"

"I can fund it," Papa said.

"Excellent. And while we're on the topic of money, I want you to finance Sam's recovery and the reconstruction of the San Francisco department. I should ask for more, but I'll make do with that."

"Nathan?"

His hate-filled blue eyes glanced spitefully at his father and then turned to me. "I just want an apology."

"Nate, you know how sorry I am," I leaned across the table and pleaded. "I'm sorry I made you pick between me and your dad. I'm sorry Emma got hurt. I'm sorry I had to blow up Cerebra to hide my father, but they wanted him dead! And yes, I would rather have an insane, homicidal father than a dead one! Because I know what it feels like to lose a parent! And as much as it hurts to lose you as a friend, it doesn't compare… I'm sorry, it just doesn't. It doesn't mean I don't love you, of course I do. But if you don't understand and can't be my friend anymore… I couldn't blame you."

He was so tense I could feel it: like a rubber band waiting to snap. "I understand, 'On. But I don't know if I can forgive you."

"Mais, I'm gonna help y' figure it out, homme," said my father. "Stormy, y' ain't gotta go t'rough de rooster over here. We talked about dis before, and our request is both advantageous and… poetic."

Momma smiled and said gleefully, "We want y' kids."

"Come again?" Ms. Frost-Summers raised an eye-brow.

"Don't panic," Rogue said quickly, "It's not forever. Just a week or two."

"Since I trusted you t' keep mine safe, figure I'd return de favor." Papa couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

"Considering the gravity of your request, I would've appreciated more tact," said Mr. Summers. "But I guess there's no point pretending we're all friends. If you want to babysit, Gambit, fine."

"If I recall, our children have two parents. Or do you expect me to fade into the background like your last two ex-wives?" Ms. Frost-Summers hissed.

Momma casually said, "I'm sure Alex'll be glad t' help y' out."

"Emma, please," said Mr. Summers, "They've agreed to everything we've asked for, and I really don't think they're going to hurt the kids. Are you really going to bail out over this?"

"So glad to know where you prioritize our children, Scott, and I'll be sure to bring it up in the custody hearing, too. But while our son's life is measured in weeks, I'll be there for all of them."

"Den we compromise," said Papa, "You keep de baby."

I know she was unhappy – that was the point – but her mind was making the situation so much worse. So I picked at my nails and said easily, "Megan and Ollie get along great, and it's not like we're short on rooms…"

"Look on de bright side, Nate," Momma added, "If dis were de Guild, we'd be marryin' de two a' you off!"

.::.

It was a bit of a full house for a while, but we managed. Meg bunked up with Hero in her room adjacent to my mother's; Nate took the guest room across the hall from Renegade's; and Rachel shared my room. We all made good on our promises and we all helped each other, too. The grown Summers kids helped us put our lives together – rebuilding our house and arranging my father's schedule while he helped to restore Mr. Summers's "good" reputation. At first, things were awkward in our private moments. Momma was uncomfortable kissing Megan good-night; Renegade didn't play his music as loud as he normally did; Nate didn't touch anything without permission; and Papa and Rogue were less affectionate. It might've been the strain of Lila on their relationship, but I think it was the numerous eyes.

Even I felt as though I was always being watched.

I'm sure it didn't help that I had to share my room – something completely new and alien to me. Rachel was… Well, she was completely unlike anyone I'd ever known. She and I had shared stories and things in common, but I'd never actually spoken to her about anything. It seemed so hard to build a relationship now. What would I say to her? She knew everything about me except who I was. From a distance, I watched her in my home. She had a natural, deep-seeded confidence like her mother. Unlike her father (who was probably the most insecure person I'd ever known and over-compensated with arrogance), Rachel's self-assurance brought her grace and compassion. Those weren't particularly qualities I admired, but I respected them in her. Her smile was disarming and her kindness made my face flush. I desperately wanted to speak to her, but fear prevented me. What if she hated me?

After three days of civil conversation about the weather or the kiddies or our chores, Rachel finally broke the barrier between acquaintances and friends. (I hadn't expected her to break so easily. This young woman had been adrift in time and space: torn time and again from her loved ones. I'd expected her chronic isolation would make her a master of keeping secrets. Turns out, she was quite the opposite: terribly eager to form long-term connections.) We were in my room, getting ready for bed, when she shattered the polite silence like jack hammer.

"Honor, are you… in love with my brother?"

I could've laughed, but I was sick of hearing this particular accusation. "No. I'm gay. I hope that doesn't make you uncomfortable."

"No, not at all!" She smiled. "It all makes perfect sense now! I didn't really think it was true, but you guys's relationship is just so… bizarre. I didn't know what else to make of it. I mean, he's always helping you. And you're a great girl, but you're so young."

I didn't care for her enthusiasm. "I thought you and Nate had a special bond, like the one… Like your parents used to have."

"We used to," she said. "Back when he didn't keep secrets from me. But he's gotten very good at hiding things he doesn't want me to know about… I guess that's my fault. The age difference doesn't help. I think he thinks of me more as a mother figure than a friend. And after Dad married Emma… I just couldn't be here anymore. I think Nate took it personally. I love him, but I don't know who he is." Her voice trailed off, overcome by sorrow.

I saw my chance and I took it. "That's a very brave thing to say. Most people would just keep pretending everything was the same… Rachel, you've always helped me when Nate asked for you… And for no other reason than because you loved him. I want to help you." I took a deep, dramatic breath as if slowing my pulse. "The night I destroyed Cerebra, my friend Ethan was with me. We thought we were going to die, so he told me his darkest secret. Ethan is… he's been cloned from Nate. Mr. Sinister spliced his DNA with mine to create Ethan." I saw the blood drain from her face and filled the silence with words I'm sure she never heard. "That's why they have the same blood type, and why Ethan tried to kill Nate. He thinks he doesn't have a soul now, and that his life has no purpose. I just found out that night, and I've been dying to tell Nate, but… You know, we aren't speaking now. I think your dad and Emma found out when Nate was in the hospital, but they didn't know about my part until the mediation with-"

"Wait, how do you know that my dad knows?"

"Just a hunch," I shrugged. "My powers merged with Ethan's during the sabotage, and when I said that, they exchanged a funny look. Nate suspected they were hiding something, too; I saw it on his face."

She sat on the nook and stared out the window for a long time.

"He should know," I said finally. "He deserves to know. But I can't tell him. He'll think… Well, he'll think he has to side with his dad on this because of everything that's happened. But Mr. Summers isn't going to tell him. You should do it. And… it'll bring you guys closer."

She told him that night. I was extremely anxious to know how it went, but they never told me. Out of nerves, I went to Renegade's room. We sat in the quiet, trying to hear or See anything, but we couldn't. Rachel and Nate had either established telepathic barriers or spoke on the astral plane.

"You did de right thing, Sis," René told me confidently.

I wanted to snap at him. I didn't give two shits about doing the "right" thing! I'd given Rachel my ace – possibly the only one my family had against Summers! And it could backfire, depending on how she told him. Words. In the end, it all came down to words. Renegade didn't understand. He could never understand. And if I were honest with myself, that's what I wanted. The more ignorant he was of this game, the more susceptible he was to my influence.

I smiled sweetly and rested my head on his shoulder. "If you ever find out I've been cloned and implanted with false memories, dear brother, you can keep it to yourself. I'm happy being me."

"No, you genuine. But sometimes I s'pect I'm adopted."

…

"How can you say that?"

"I'm sorry, Gi, I didn't mean to sound that harsh. I just… Look, things are really hectic here."

"Things are hectic here, too!" my girlfriend snapped. "We literally just walked in from Italy! We've got bags to unpack and my brother needs to see a dentist and I haven't slept in fourteen hours! But we haven't seen each other in months and you've been through hell, and I would really love to see you, 'On."

"Well, I'm sorry, but you can't."

"I'm calling a taxi and heading over right now."

"Don't bother. I won't be here."

I hung up, wondering if she'd ever speak to me again. Of course she would. She'd even forgive me if I apologized. But I really was leaving.

I'd done the wrong thing often enough to know when I was doing it. First, you start keeping secrets. Then you become desperate, paranoid, depressed. Eventually your lies pile up so high that they consume you. And when the hour glass finally breaks under the pressure, you finally get perspective. Hunger. Loneliness. Desire. Strange the things that override logic and reason. Rogue once told me that making mistakes was part of growing up. Ironic, then, that no one ever stops making mistakes, even when you know you're doing it.

I couldn't tell anyone I was going to see Tess, and it hurt. I'd never gone on a date without asking for Renegade's advice on my outfits and how much he thought my date fancied me. His opinion meant a lot to me. I knew what he'd say about this – "don' do it" – and he was right. I had no real future with her. Manhattan might as well have been Mars, but distance wasn't the only issue. Her loyalties had moved to Shaw and the Hellfire Club, which was often at odds with the X-Men. As much as I hated them, the X-Men had my father's support, and I could never abandon him. These problems between us should've been problems, but they really weren't. When she and I were together, there were no politics, no games, and no conflicts because we were utterly alone. To feel united with someone – that had to count for something. Surely, that was worth following through some trials. Pissing off my family would be one of many…

Since I couldn't tell my family, she had to send a car to get me to a Hellfire Club party at the Gavsevoort Park in the city. I should've been impressed. Mr. Shaw was wealthy and distrustful (as wealthy people have to be, I guess), and the hotel was considered one of the best for parties. I got to dress up and leave secretly – just like Cinderella. But I didn't feel like a princess; I felt like a dirty liar. If – when – my parents found out where I'd been, they'd be furious. Papa had his own reasons for hating Shaw, and if he ever found out what he'd done to me and Tess, he'd hate him even more. I hated him, too. I hated that ogre with everything I had. But he was a part of Tess's life now, and if I wanted to be a part of it, too, I'd have to deal with him. I'd have to adorn the costume and play the role…

The hotel wasn't the prettiest or biggest I'd ever seen, although I'd never been impressed with the architecture preferred by New Englanders. The food was sub-par and the music as bland as white walls. Sarcasm and oppression were the order of the night, and I wanted to leave before I even saw her. I felt uncomfortable in heels on the loose carpet, which snagged at my shoes at each step. These people were so old – receding hair lines and plastic surgery everywhere! But they stood huddled together, using their bodies to shield their elitism from my common blood, and looked down their fake noses at my red-sequin gown. René called it my Jessica Rabbit dress. I got it from Mona, but my parents had never let me wear it outside of the house. I laughed at myself in my hand-me-down sexy gown. The spectators quickly looked away from my unprovoked smile: like wicked demons cowering in the shadows from sunlight.

"Honor…" Tess almost whispered my name.

She was wearing her black underwear, as usual. The top was a corset that lifted and separated her milky breasts, and the bottoms were silk panties that cut up the sides and down at her groin. They exposed that crease between her thighs and groin, which had been shaved of natural pubic hair and made my lips moist. Perhaps out of modesty, she'd added long gloves and high boots, too. She didn't smile as she approached – not with her lips, anyway. But her blue eyes were glowing. She chastely held my elbows and kissed the side of my face.

"Easy, honey," she said in my ear. "They can smell fear."

"They should..." I said easily as I held her. "This gaudy display of power doesn't come from love."

Her crimson-painted lips curved up. "Shall I introduce you?"

She led me to a playing table, where Mr. Shaw and a handful of others were drinking and playing Texas Hold 'em. I should've listened to her introductions – or at least pretended to listen – but I'm a very bad liar when I want to be. My eyes burned into Shaw the entire time: a gesture he returned. A man at the table laughed at us.

"I don't think she likes you, Sebastian."

"I think you're right, Donald, but I invited her and she came. Let's be quiet and see if I can coax her closer. Care for a seat, dear?"

Everyone except for Shaw expected me to storm off. Even Tess didn't think I'd indulge him. But I took a seat and watched as they finished their game. These men threw around hundreds of thousands of dollars as if they were pennies. I wasn't impressed with their extravagance.

"Come, Trevor, are you in or out?"

"I… I'm in. Raise you 3."

"What do you think?" Shaw asked me, throwing three hundred thousand dollars into the pot. "Is he bluffing?"

"Oh, is she a telepath?" asked the only woman at the table besides myself. She had long, auburn hair and dressed in white underwear.

"Better," said Shaw, "She's a psychic. Well, dear, what do you say?"

"She can tell the future? Really? Then save us the trouble and tell us who'll win," the woman goaded.

"Your name is Paris Kensington," I snapped at her. "A pretty name for an ugly woman. You used to torture animals, and when you were nine you killed a boy. His parents never found out what happened to him. And if I ever to give you – any of you – any advice, it would probably be counter-intelligence because you deserve all the misery you get!"

They laughed as if I'd told a funny joke. Shaw actually wiped tears away.

"Nine, Paris? Really? Why didn't you tell us?"

"Would you have believed me?" she asked proudly.

Donald was bluffing about bluffing and took the pot. When the dealer shuffled for the next round, I was told I'd need to buy chips to keep my seat.

"No, thank you, this game's a little too rich for my blood," I stood to leave.

"I'll buy for her," said Shaw. "Go ahead and give her the standard. I'll cover it. You do know how to play, don't you?"

Finally, Tess spoke up. "Don't let those eyes fool you, Mr. Shaw. She knows the game."

I couldn't help but think she was bragging on me, and not for my poker abilities.

I was dealt a jack of spades and three of clubs. Mr. Shaw would take this pot with a royal flush, but I'd take it all the way to the end: make a big deal of losing. If I could handle the Guild, I could handle this group, too. But I didn't need them knowing my full potential.

Donald stacked his chips and asked me, "Now is it Anna or Honor?"

"Honor, like 'honor thy mother and father'."

"Adorable!" Paris cooed.

"Geez," I said, looking around the table. "Half expected you all to burst into flame when I quoted Scripture."

Again, they laughed. These people weren't much different from the bullies at school. The only way to earn their respect was to be as mean and disrespectful as possible. I didn't understand people who so openly mistake their enemies for their friends, but I recognized them.

Tess hailed a waitress for refreshment on the drinks, and while the woman was busy, my ex nonchalantly circled the table to my chair. I felt her cold, slender fingers grasp the back of my dress and latch the tiny hook atop the zipper. Her skin only briefly brushed mine, but the gesture struck my core. It was a stupid excuse to touch me, which meant she wanted to, and it also meant she'd been checking out my backside. She always said it was my best side. I bit down a smile as she walked back to Shaw.

"Speaking of," Donald said to me, "What is it your parents do? I don't believe I'm familiar with the LeBeaus."

"Don't insult the girl, man," Shaw told Donald. "She and Tessa created Mutant Freaks! What a stroke of luck that little venture turned out to be. I acquired Tess and an infinite amount of information on mutants. Their identities, powers, locations – all available to us because of these two doves. And she might not want me to say so, but acquiring information is a LeBeau family trade."

"Oh, I just love secrets…" said Paris.

The table fell into silence as the game became more competitive. Despite the recklessness of these people, they were still fiercely ambitious. They couldn't lose anything, not even a card game. I, too, wanted to win, if only for the thrill of victory. But I had to bow out and let my disappointment show.

"Looks like she's too nice to take your money," Trevor noted.

"Or maybe she's too scared to really play," said Donald.

"Don't be rash, gentlemen," Tess said, "This is a gambit."

By my third loss, they stopped expecting much from me. But I had a plan. Slowly, I whittled my pot down from a million to one-hundred thousand dollars. I was timing the set-up so that by the time I had a winning hand, no one blinked when I bet everything. I had almost nothing left, anyway. My opponents checked, certain I was about to leave the table. Instead, I took their earnings. Their arrogance had been fueled – they wouldn't lose to a stupid little girl. So they bet again to prove their worth. I won the next hand and the next. Shaw was the first to bow out. I don't know if Tess tipped him off to my plan or if he's just smarter than he is greedy, but the fact that he stayed to observe put me on edge. He collected his pot and stood patiently behind Paris Kensington while we finished the game. Tess wrapped her arms around me from behind, and despite myself, I could feel my senses slipping as my pulse increased.

I took the next two hands, too, and then left with my winnings.

"You must stay, I insist!" Donald pleaded.

"Things were just getting interesting," said Paris.

"You want some excitement?" I asked lightly, gathering my chips. "Avoid bodies of water. You're going to die by drowning."

Everyone laughed except for her.

"When?" She asked weakly.

"Not long."

Shaw turned to Tess. "Looks like your promotion is coming sooner than I thought!"

Again, everyone except Paris roared with laughter and I saw my opportunity. I stood up straight and said, "Until then-?"

He waved Tess away and lit up a cigar. "I need to stretch my legs, anyway."

She followed me with quick steps to the cashier. I turned my chips into dollar bills – totaling almost the original million I'd started with – and laughed when I couldn't fit them all into my purse. I off-handedly asked Tess to take a handful to help me out. Instead, she grabbed my shoulders and kissed my lips. Instinctively, I kissed her back, and then pulled away.

"I offer you a few hundred dollars, so you kiss me?"

The light faded from her eyes. "You win a few hundred and you're too good to be kissed?"

"Ah!" I forced my clutch-bag to shut. "I'm sick of your games, Tess! That's all it ever is with you! Hot and cold!"

I walked out as gracefully as I could manage, and was both elated and infuriated when she followed me. Once we were outside, she called out, "Why did you come?"

I stopped, but didn't turn around right away. She was smart enough to keep out of arm's length, and only then did I face her.

"Honestly, I don't know why I came. I didn't want to… Why did you invite me?"

"I invited you for the same reason you accepted. I would like to invite you again in the future, although I wouldn't exactly call this a success."

Trying to understand her was like trying to figure out calculus in your sleep. Trying to get through to her was like trying to punch through the Hoover Dam. We were either trying too hard or not at all, but either way, this wasn't working.

"I think I made a mistake," I said. "I should probably go home. And you… Have a good night."

I pulled the handle of my graciously-provided ride, but she threw herself between me and the door, slamming it shut again. This was so unlike her that I actually gasped and jumped back: subconsciously thinking I was about to be attacked. (Odd how I often confused her affection for anger.)

Her cobalt eyes burned and her bust heaved with impatience. She hissed, "Do you have to play the martyr? You've lost nothing by coming here! If you want to leave, I won't stop you, but you weren't betrayed, so don't expect me to apologize!"

"Tess, you sold my family!" I yelled.

"And saved you from yourselves!" She shouted back as heat rose to her scarred cheeks. "Christ, and how many times?"

"But you think one night with one boy is unforgiveable?" I forged on as if I hadn't heard her. "How could you ever think a – a dick could come between us? Between what we had? It was solace, that's all. Stupid, I know, but it didn't mean that I didn't still love you. Or that I don't still."

"Maybe it didn't mean anything to you," she said quietly, "But you knew it meant something to me… And it meant something to Ethan… And you did it, anyway. You expect me to understand that, but you can't tolerate Sebastian." Then she caught herself. She stopped talking and shook her head in disgust.

I had no right to ask about him, but I could ask about us. "Does he come between us?"

"Only if you let him." She gave me a vindictive look.

"Is that why you're still with him? So I'll let him drive us apart?"

A range of emotions flashed across her face – sorrow, anger, self-loathing.

I disarmed her with a careless shrug. "It's okay… Far as I'm concerned, nothing compares to us. All the dicks in the world are just feathers in the wind. But I know now that my head's pretty fucked up. You look good, by the way. Wish you'd put some clothes on, though. I like a girl with a little bit of mystery."

"Screw you, LeBeau," she said coldly.

"This is nice, babe. Talking to you again. Even if we're fighting… It's nice. Really."

"I've missed speaking with you, as well… Despite my better judgment." She let a sly smile linger on her lips. I couldn't tell if she loved or hated me, and I was just as confused about my own feelings. At last, she chose a side. "I – forgot your mother left her shoes at my penthouse."

I leapt at her lame excuse. "Did she? I think she'd like them back."

"I have to stay until midnight. Could you wait for me?"

The question hung in the air – much like our relationship. She'd taken a huge risk inviting me, and I hadn't really tried to repay her. I could've charmed Shaw and his friends, but I didn't care if they approved her not. Tess did, though; she needed them to want me around if we were going to keep seeing each other. Everything fell apart, and she was still asking me to stay. I was either a queen or a slave… Hard to tell.

I spent the rest of the night down the street at a coffee shop. Yes, in my hand-me-down Jessica Rabbit gown. A few college boys bought my cappuccinos and made me feel a little less awkward. They didn't have the courage to ask for my phone number, but I was just grateful for the company.

At midnight, Tess pulled up in the car as promised, and I left with a smile from my new friends. As I walked towards the car and rode to her house, I didn't feel at all like myself. Why was I doing this? What did I expect to happen? Was she telepathically influencing me again? I didn't think so, but even on the elevator ride up and short walk to her door, I felt like someone I didn't know was going with Tess.

The sound of the light switch was deafening in the silence. The place must have been soundproof; even in the middle of the night, the city wasn't this quiet. I couldn't help but wonder what other additions had been made. Clearly, she'd invested some serious cash into it. The rooms were probably monitored by an invisible security system; the locks were probably touch-sensitive. I could sense the fortifications here, the way a fox senses danger. (A thirteenth generation criminal is bound to have some innate talents!) Otherwise, the place was understatedly impressive. The most striking aspects were the size and the view, which were priceless in the city. Everything else was standard city style: modern architecture, white walls, clear cabinets revealing white dishes I'm certain she never used. The kitchen stepped up twice into the living room, which sported two doors to hidden rooms: presumably, the bedroom and bathroom. Her living room was most bare except for a large couch, transparent coffee table and a baby grand piano.

My jaw dropped open. "Tessy, you don't know how to play."

She turned and smiled at me. There was the girl I knew! "Are you going to stand in the doorway all night, or are you going to come in?" she asked as she stripped away her gloves and boots.

Like a moth to the flame, I walked directly to her piano.

"I'd offer you a drink, but you've been drinking all night," she said as she unpinned her hair. Stiff, black curls piled around her shoulders, and she shook them loose. "Facilities?"

I shook my head and opened the piano board to reveal the keys. Cool, white porcelain and ebony notes had been with me all my life… I touched middle C and A minor just to fill the silence. Tess came and stood very close. Her fingers closed around my shoulders, inviting me to sit at the bench.

I was fourteen again. Henri had just died and I had never needed Tess more. I'd never known love's loss, but I was beginning to glimpse it. I was only fourteen, but already I'd learned a hard lesson: tragedy touches the innocent and guilty alike. All that yearning and passion and misery brewed inside my heart and tortured me endlessly. I poured it all out into Henri's Sonata.

I played it for her now.

"How do you do that?" she asked. "Music is basically math and the application of numbers… Properly apply the correct movements at the right points and distance, and the result should always be the same… I've studied music in an attempt to replicate your talents. I started thinking I'd surpass you, but if anything, I admire you more. When you play, there is another factor. Something…" She shook her head in frustration. "Something else. It makes me feel like I'm flying through the desert, and I can hear my mother's laughter again. If I still had faith, I would call it divine."

My heart shattered for her. If she had lost her faith, then she was truly lost.

"If you were Cajun," I said, "you'd call it magic. Maybe I could… visit. Try to teach you. But I'm not a very good teacher."

"It's alright. I'm a very good student." She joined me on the bench and placed her hands over the middle C.

I laughed. "I'll teach you the way I learned. First, close your eyes." I stood behind her and lightly covered her closed eye lids with my fingers. "Try to feel the sounds locked away. Listen, you've got to have passion for what you're doing. Feel the sounds in your instrument and all the things deep down inside of you that you can't find words for… Sync it up - what you feel and what the music says. Now we'll practice. Strike the notes… how do they make you feel? Memorize that feeling to that note. Eventually, you can build cords to create many feelings, like… bitter-sweet or hope…"

She removed her hands. "That's what I lack, then. Feelings."

"No. No, you don't. You've just buried them."

"You and I haven't been friends for a very long time, 'On. Please don't offer insight on what you perceive to be my faults." She didn't sound angry or impatient. True to her words, she didn't sound as if she felt anything.

"We've been friends for a very long time," I said softly. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and nuzzled my face into her neck. She smelled kind of strange – not at all like herself. But I was desperate to offer her some kind of comfort. Her body remained stiff, so I went on. "Henri's Sonata was written for you… He just got the credit for it because Rogue loved listening to it while she was grieving. That's alright by me. Maybe this way, some part of him gets to live on. But you inspired it. If you really were the soulless, lifeless girl you think, could you make someone else feel so much?"

She shook her head. "You must have a thousand emotions coursing through you all the time. That's not me."

"I know who you are." I sat down beside her and forced her to look at me. "You're my very best friend and the love of my life. People think you're as cold as a machine because that's what you want them to think. You've even started believing it yourself. But you're kind and loyal and courageous… You helped me steal and lie to the X-Men, even though it could've cost you everything. The only time I ever needed you and you weren't there was the time I threw it all away. You were so good to me. I just took everything you gave and kept thinking of myself. I didn't know what I had, but I do now. There is no one who means more to me than you do."

She listened – really listened to me. Not like she "listened" when I apologized last year on Shaw's jet. The defenses in her eyes lowered and she let me in again. She didn't have to say anything, I knew. She still cared about me, and despite what she thought about herself, she was still very much the person I fell in love with. If she weren't, why help me destroy Cerebra? Why had she gone looking for me afterwards, and why had she helped my mother reach Renegade? My Tess was incredibly intelligent and skilled. Sometimes her calculations distracted people from her more humane traits, like generosity and sensitivity. But I saw who she was. She was the same, and she still felt the same. She didn't trust me; that was the only thing that had changed between us. That I could deal with. I wasn't too proud to earn it back, but until I did, she'd keep me at a distance.

I kissed her and, instinctively, she kissed me back. But once her mind came back, she kept kissing me. I was glad to be here and talking with her, but words could only do so much. As far as I was concerned, we'd said what we both wanted to say; now it was time to do what we came to do.

My hands slid over her back, where her bra straps outlined her shoulder blades. The skin over her back was smooth and cool and sprung goose-bumps under my fingers. But I didn't unfasten the clasp or push back her panties. I just kissed her and waited. Her body melted into mine, grasping at my hair and sucking my tongue and offering her breasts. She tasted like I remembered, but she moved a little differently. She was more confident now. No, she didn't carry me to her bed (she'd always left the final push to me), but she'd brought me home and set up the scenario and now she was kissing me. In the back of my mind, I longed to know who'd made her more confident. I didn't really care – not in the jealous sense – but I was achingly curious. Apparently, I could resist no temptation, and moved to the sensitive spot at the nape of her neck to distract her while I psychically rummaged through her secrets. I saw her with Shaw but no one else. (Other than me…) Shockingly, this knowledge soothed me. I enjoyed knowing it so much that I don't think I would have believed it if she'd told me without proof. If that made me happy, delving deeper made me euphoric. She'd been heavily disappointed by every aspect of their encounter. His penis was smaller than her toys and less pleasing than her own fingers. She never could find a comfortable position before he was finished, and immediately afterwards, she dressed and left. Without Looking, I knew they didn't love each other. She'd slept with him to gain his trust, that much as obvious, but why would he sleep with her? Reaching outside her for this, I discovered he did it for power, and in his own sick, twisted way, out of kindness and respect. But the incident would not be repeated.

"I know what you're doing," she said, grabbing my breasts, lifting them and letting them fall. "You're psychic and I'm telepathic, honey… Secrets between us are only pretend."

"So no more secrets," I said with a dismissive shrug.

She pulled back just enough to see me. Her mind tapped into mine and flew through the hallways, peaking in windows and behind doors until she found what she was looking for. The night I betrayed her. She saw my fear, shame, and uncertainty ripped to the surface during the act. She knew how selfish and gentle he and I were; how we both needed each other in that moment. She knew his body as well as I did now, and how it was still drawn to me. She knew we didn't use protection because a part of me hoped for a child to replace Henri. And because she kept looking without flinching away, she also learned that Ethan and I were genetically related. Any child we had would have been an abomination. I'd never shared that particular secret with anyone, not even myself. If I'd ever faced that fact directly, I would've been submerged in guilt and shame. And at the time, I was innocent… of knowing that, anyway.

Maybe I should've shielded her from some things, but I didn't dare. I'd wanted so badly to share that experience with someone – anyone – that I was even willing to share it with her.

She wasn't angry. Actually, I think she was a little soothed, too. When she looked at me again, her lips were swollen and there was a storm brewing behind her eyes. "Let's go to the bedroom," she said, leading the way.

My heart was racing but my mind was in a fog. I didn't notice anything about her room other than it was dark and had a bed.

She closed the door and approached me from behind. She asked, "Do you mind?" and unzipped my dress. "I don't want you getting glitter all over everything."

I let the outfit slide off and it melted into a red, shimmering puddle at my feet. Because of its design, I couldn't wear anything beneath the dress, and now I stood completely naked except for my high-heels. Honestly, I hadn't dared to hope for this night to end so well.

I turned around and took her in my arms, instantly arriving at my favorite place in the world. Our bodies still fit together perfectly, like the two pieces of the ying-yang symbol. Her kiss was as familiar to me as my own skin. As we kissed, she reached up and grabbed my breasts again. This time, her thumbs brushed over my nipples and I thought I'd die. I wrapped my arms around her and fumbled with her bra hook, but my fingers were shaking too violently to manage the unfastening. She helped me undress her with a knowing smile.

"Are you this nervous with all your lovers?"

"Shut up," I grumbled and pulled her close.

"I want to show you something," she said softly. She took my hand and led me to her bed, where she turned down the sheets and invited me to sit.

I was glad to accept her invitation, my knees were violently shaking. She slowly sat beside me and chastely took my hands. Then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if to steady her nerves. But she didn't proceed with words or caresses. I felt her mind gently touch mine, waiting for acceptance. Her projection wasn't visible in forms like Nate's or other, more powerful telepaths. It was like looking through a window at a reflection of a ghost: fuzzy and incomplete. We were on the astral plane, where thoughts and emotions are hard to conceal. This was different from our previous connections, which was more like mind hacking. I opened up to her and she opened to me.

Crippling, agonizing pain rushed over me like an ocean. Salty waves beat me down, crushed me, and overwhelmed me to the point of death. Could one die on the astral plane? I'd never asked.

This was her mind. I heard voices like lapping waves and dipping currents.

'Tanaz! What were you doing outside? What if they'd seen you?'

'Disgusting girl! No man will ever love you!'

'Their lives will be defined by honor, yours by your capacity to betray.'

'I only slept with him once…'

'If you want to see her, you know what I require.'

'Being in charge of myself is the most important thing I have!'

I was drowning in the darkness and the cold when a hand reached out for me. The demonic voices of despair faded beneath music and the sound of children's laughter. That laugh – it belonged to the twins. These were my memories!

We were making out in my bed when Ollie burst through the door looking for his mother, who was away on work. I picked him up and comforted him the best I could. At the time, we forced ourselves to laugh at it. But while I held his little body and my eyes met Tess's, something struck us. Was it longing for a similar situation, many years down the road? Or remembrance of one long ago?

And then I was besieged by memories without owners.

I saw a woman walk across a sand dune. She wore long, white robes that billowed high into the night. She passed a group of pilgrims and caught a man's eye. The look lasted only a moment, but lived in their hearts for a lifetime. Then I watched two men greet with a passionate kiss. They parted as a woman passed, and then kissed until they fell into the bushes. Next: the small, ornate sedan of a young Chinese girl. It was her wedding day, and curiosity about the groom drove her mad. Against all traditions of propriety, she parted the curtain of ruby beads over her face and peaked through the silk curtains. He turned to her with a smile that made her stomach flutter. By now, I knew these were our past incarnations. I heard my father's voice say in Chinese: 'Can you imagine a love superior to the bonds of time and death? A love which never dies…' As he spoke, I saw two swans calmly swim downstream. Had our infinite love really began in the hearts of two birds? Regal and loyal as they were, they were still birds. It was too incredible for words, really.

"I had no idea…" Tess said. "No idea you loved me so much."

We were back in her modern room in New York City. She was in her back panties, and I wore nothing. I was trembling all over, much like I had the first time we were intimate. Despite my nerves, I reached out and stroked her face.

"I had no idea I'd hurt you so much," I said.

With one knee on either side of my thighs, she sat on my legs and we watched each other. She was undoubtedly the most beautiful creature God ever made. Her legs were long and a little too thin, but her ass was perfectly round and firm. Her muscles were nicely defined, front and back, and beneath protruding, bird-like collar bones rested the most irresistible pair of breasts. All of her skin was snowy white with no hint of sun coloring, but some areas had scar tracks. Sinister's work wasn't limited to her face, but was also written on her biceps and shins and the small of her back.

The combination of beauty and pain overwhelmed me, so I held her close to hide the tears that spilled from my eyes.

She cradled my face. "No more tears."

But I couldn't stop crying or shaking, even when she pulled the sheets over us and held me like a child. I'd been completely unprepared to confront all the emotional baggage I'd been carrying around for the last year or so. Apparently, Tess wasn't. I think pain is her comfort. She was right to confront me with it – it was the only way we could move forward – but it was too powerful for to defeat alone. Maybe she was right, and I simply felt more than her. Maybe what crippled me didn't bother her.

Eventually, she realized my plight and slipped me a dirty thought.

I saw Tess's first orgasm. After we'd been making out for the better part of three months, she had to know where all this pleasure ended. She slipped into the shower (it was the only place she had any privacy), and held the shower head between her legs. When she came, it gripped her so hard that her toes curled and she cried out my name.

A bolt of arousal shot to the center between my legs. If the thought of her being naked turned me on, why didn't the actual thing? Because my head was too wrapped up in other things. This was just like our first time together. I had to stop thinking about all the things that had hurt me and focus on where I was – which was actually lovely. I kicked the covers off us and pressed her against the bed, automatically finding a warm welcome between her legs. We smiled at each other like old friends. Her cool hands and my warm lips caressed each other until we were both shaking, and when we finally came together, tears streamed down her face. We were gentle and kind with each other (for once), and let the pleasure build at its own pace as we made love. There was no frenzy or anxiety. It was something beyond physical gratification, something more expressive of our hearts. I traced her scars until they were memorized; I showed her my new talents. So much of her was familiar: the smell of her sex, the raspy groan from her chest, the way she moved to what she liked or didn't... But she'd learned some new tricks, too. I tried not to think about where she'd learned them.

I came unexpectedly on her fingers, and then brought her to a climax with my mouth. She rolled on top and we came together. She'd been delaying her own satisfaction until I caught up, and when she finally released it, I think we both lost our minds. The feeling of her juices flowing into my warmth, trying to quench the fire within drove me mad. I wanted nothing but her. Always. In the afterglow, I found I still wanted to be near her. So like my favorite toy, I picked her up again and again. That's what I love about being a lesbian: no man on earth can go like that! When we were too high to go anymore, we sort of passed out in each other's arms. I didn't sleep, I know that, but I was barely conscious. All the ecstasy permeated in my flesh, but it had nothing to do with orgasms. We weren't merely reunited physically; we were spiritually and mentally joined, too. It was like coming home after a long journey. Yes, I was home.

…

"Sorry I can't stay longer," I said.

"Don't worry about it," Tess shrugged, still naked under the covers.

I dressed in some of her clothes, which were all too small except for the jacket. Every time I tried to leave, I came back to her for another kiss or twelve. But I really couldn't stay. The longer I was gone, the longer I'd be grounded. But I was going to be grounded no matter what, so how could a few more minutes more hurt?

'Get it together, LeBeau! No one likes a guest who doesn't know when to leave!' I told myself and reached for the door knob with new resolve.

"Wait!" she cried, "What about your mother's shoes?"

I smiled. "I'll get'm next time."

.::.

Fin.

Author's Notes: So, so sorry this took so long to post. To be quiet honest, this story has been the better part of a year of my life, and I think I was dragging my feet because I really just didn't want to see it come to an end. 'Ballad' is followed by 'Making a Big Stink' and 'Savage Land', which have both been posted already, and 'Stink' is nearly finished. Once it is, it might be a while before I post anything else. I do have some ideas, but I don't think I'll post before it's completed. Writing is something I like to do a little more leisurely, and these last two stories I've been pushing myself to meet deadlines. Anyways, I hope you've enjoyed the long and winding road of Honor and Tess, and thanks for taking the time to read. Please review!