Ted walked into the diner hoping to grab a quick sandwich for lunch and a lemon bar. He sat down at the counter. Debbie came bustling over.

"Teddy! What can I get you?" she asked with a big smile.

"Tuna on white and a lemon bar to go," Ted said.

"Sure thing," she replied smacking her gum. Nothing much changed where Ted was concerned. She put the order in and went to pack up his lemon bar.

Lacy came out of the back with her coat on and her messenger bag slung over her shoulder. "I'm going, Deb. See you at home."

"Sure thing, kiddo," Debbie called. "That girl is really embarking on a new stage of her career," Debbie whispered to Ted as she set down the bag containing the lemon bar.

"What do you mean?" Ted asked.

"It's very confidential, but she's going to be working with Michael. She's going to draw Rage." Debbie was practically bursting with pride.

"But what about Justin?" Ted asked with a frown.

"Oh, I don't know. I guess Michael and Justin have worked something out. I'm so happy for Lacy," she said as she retrieved Ted's sandwich from the cook and took his money. "But it's all hush-hush for now, so don't say anything."

"Sure," Ted said, "keep the change." He made his way out of the diner.

Outside he stopped and thought about Debbie's big news. He was standing there when two teenage boys walked by.

"Did you hear that Rage is being killed off?" one of them was saying.

"What are you talking about?" the other asked.

"I got the info from Brad. He was told on good authority that Rage is being killed off and Zephyr is going to be the new superhero all by himself, until he gets a new sidekick, I guess."

"That sucks! Rage is hot, and Zephyr is just Zephyr."

"That's what I heard."

"What about JT?"

The boys were far enough down the street that Ted couldn't hear anymore.

"What the fuck is Michael doing?" Ted mumbled to himself. He wondered if he should call Brian and Justin and ask them about this turn of events. After that fleeting thought, he decided he would be much better off staying the fuck out of the whole thing. He hurried off down the street, back to his numbers and ad campaigns. They were definitely much safer.

 

*****
 

"So Carl doesn't want you to file charges against this kid when he's caught?" Justin asked.

"That's right," Brian said.

"But he had a knife," Justin protested. "That's armed assault. He could have really hurt you."

"I don't think so, Sunshine."

"But … this is fucked. Just because the kid is looking after a cat, that buys him the right to attack people and steal their money. I don't think so," Justin said indignantly.

"He's just a mixed up kid. We don't know the whole story yet."

"That's my point. I don't think you can decide not to press charges when you don't know the whole story. He hurt you."

"Yes, Sunshine," Brian replied. "I hear you. I'll get the whole story and then I won't press charges." He pulled Justin against him for a kiss.

Justin turned his face away refusing to let Brian kiss him. He struggled to get away from his husband. "Fuck you, Kinney! How can you be so cavalier about this whole thing? You could have been really hurt or … dead."

Brian shook his head and held onto Justin. "Easy, I'm fine. Nothing happened to me."

"Something did happen, you big idiot! You were robbed at knifepoint!" Justin gave Brian a shove and walked away angry.

"Justin, I … I'll get the whole story before I make a final decision."

"You said you already told Carl you wouldn't press charges," Justin said turning to face Brian.

Brian could see the tears that Justin was holding back. "I can always change my mind."

"Promise?"

"I promise. If I get a bad feeling about this kid when they catch him, I'll let Carl prosecute."

"Good," Justin said as Brian stepped forward and gave Justin the kiss and hug that he had refused before. "I love you," Justin whispered. "I want you safe."

 

*****

 

"Drop-In Center," Hunter answered the phone in his office.

"Hunter, it's Karen."

"Shouldn't you be in a nice soft, warm bed asleep by now?"

"Yes and I will be, soon. I wanted to fill you in on what I found out about our latest lost boy. Are you alone?"

"Yes. Curtis poured out his guts earlier then passed out. I let him sleep then encouraged him to let Nick check him out. They're in the exam room now."

"Good. Curtis is what you've suspected; he's in care, however not for that long."

"What do you mean?"

"Up until Curtis was twelve, he was living with his grandfather. One Jerome Curtis Samuels. The boy's mother had died when Curtis was about five."

"Drugs?"

"No, leukemia, diagnosed too late. The grandfather was relatively young, fifty-five, when he died."

"Je-sus! What happened to him?"

"Massive heart attack."

"Shit, the kid can't catch a break!"

"No, he didn't. Then he was put into care. Hunter, I feel responsible somehow."

"You? Why?"

"Because I know the family where Curtis was placed. I've been trying to get their permits revoked for years but we could never prove abuse. The kids would somehow survive, grow up then disappear. We couldn't get any of them to testify against the Hardigans. When we did the inspections for recertification, the house was neat and clean, and in good repair. The children were clean and well fed but we always felt something was going on in that house."

"But no proof."

"No proof." The counselors and friends were silent for a while. "Anything else?"

"Yes, two interesting facts, actually. First, Jerome Samuels was a fireman. He should have had a substantial life insurance policy and survivors' benefits. Curtis is not penniless. The money should be in trust for him, somewhere."

"I'm going to call Melanie Marcus. She does pro bono work. Something like this is right up her alley. What's the second fact?"

"Curtis has been on the streets for how long?"

"Sometime before Christmas. That makes it around four months."

"The Hardigans never reported him missing. They've been cashing the stipend checks on a child technically not in their care."

"You've got them, Karen."

"Yeah, but how to prove it?"

"Let me talk to Carl about that."

"Carl Horvath?"

"Yeah. He may have a suggestion or two."

"Sounds like a good idea."

"Yeah, at least we have a plan. Now, say goodnight, Karen."

"It's only three in the afternoon."

"Yes, but you worked the overnight shift, so goodnight."

"Goodnight, Hunter." Hunter hung up the phone; he had a lot to think about.

 

*****
 

"Curtis, do you wear glasses?" Nick asked the youngster.

"Yes, sir. Not all the time. When I was in school and sitting in the back, I could see the board better with them." Nick made a few notes in the chart.

"What happened to them?"

"I lost them," Curtis said sadly, embarrassed.

"Not to worry, we'll get you a new pair."

"But I don't have money."

"Curtis, in here, money is not something our kids have to worry about. Yes, our kids have responsibilities and they include cleanliness, tidiness, honesty, treating yourself and others with respect and doing homework. For the older kids, we find them jobs. Or help them get into vocational school. Some of our kids are in college. But you do not need to worry about money."

"Yes, sir," Curtis said with a small smile. "I miss school. I miss my friends at school."

"Curtis, when we clear this all up, we'll find a way to get you back to school."

"But the Hardigans..."

"I think I can safely say that Hunter will take care of them," Nick stated with confidence.

Curtis relaxed. For the first time in years he thought maybe his life might get better. But he decided not to hope too hard, not just yet.

 

*****

 

"Raph, what is it? You keep looking at the service entrance door," Hector asked his partner.

"Just wondering when the next 'donation' is going to show up."

"If we're lucky, there won't be a next 'donation.'"

"I hope we're real lucky."

Hector agreed as they got back to work.

 

*****

 

Emmett hurried into his bistro. He had gotten an emergency call from Sean. Sean and the intern were removing a fresh tray of popovers from the oven. There were several people standing at the counter waiting. Emmett could hear a ripple of disquiet among the voices, as he passed them and went behind the counter.

"What's going on?" he asked Sean as he removed his coat and hat. "Why are there so many people lined up? Have you had trouble with the ovens?" He looked at the tray of popovers wondering why they weren't already baked and sitting on the counter. This would never do, keeping his customers waiting.

"We've been swamped all morning."

"How come?" Emmett asked with a frown. He grabbed another tray and started getting a new batch of popovers ready to go in the oven.

"Haven't you heard?" Sean asked as he removed the steaming popovers from the tray.

"Heard what?"

"That Rage is dead."

"What? What did you say?" Emmett asked in bewilderment.

"All of Liberty is talking about it," Sean explained. "It seems that the next issue of Rage is going to have Rage killed off. JT too probably. Zephyr will be left to carry on the fight against homophobes all by himself. He'll be the new superhero.

"Oh my fucking God! How do you know this?"

"Everybody's talking about it."

"But that can't be true. The comic is called Rage … not Zephyr."

"Yeah, but they killed Superman a few years ago. Remember?"

"No, I don't remember actually, but it seems to me that they found out that was a big mistake and eventually brought Superman back as he used to be."

"That's true," Sean said. "But in the meantime people need their comfort food and a place to talk about Rage's demise. We seem to be it."

"How many popovers have you sold?"

"Thousands," Sean laughed as he took the newest batch to the counter where they immediately disappeared.

"Well, fuck!" Emmett said. "At least this bizarre turn of events is good for business."

 

*****

 

"So when are you heading for Pittsburgh?" Justin asked as he came out of the sun porch. He was covered in paint.

"You've been busy by the look of it," Brian chuckled.

"I'm getting a lot done these days. I should have the 'Seasons' canvases almost finished in a few weeks … if everything keeps going like this."

"You always look so happy when you're inspired," Brian observed.

"I am. And you know where most of my inspiration comes from," Justin said wrapping his arms around Brian's waist.

"You better not be getting paint all over my Armani."

"Would you care?" Justin asked nuzzling Brian's neck.

"Of course I'd care … but that doesn't mean I'd stop you."

Justin giggled. "I love you. So, when are you leaving?"

"When you let go of me."

"What if I don't want to?"

"Then I guess I'll just have to stay here."

Justin gave Brian a radiant smile. "I'd like that."

"And then you won't get any painting done."

"I could live with that."

"I thought you were on a schedule," Brian chuckled.

"I'm entitled to a break."

"In bed?"

"That's the best kind," Justin said smugly.

"Then go for it," Brian replied backing away.

Justin held onto his husband. "I don't want to go there alone."

"I told Carl I'd…"

"Who's more important, Carl or me?"

"Fuck Carl!" Brian said taking Justin's hand and leading him to their bedroom.

"It better be me you're fucking, not Carl," Justin giggled.

"No danger," Brian said as he kicked the door closed behind them.

 

*****

 

"Hey, Nick," Hunter said coming in from the street.

"Hi, yourself," Nick said with a smile.

"How's Curtis doing?"

"He's been helping clean around here since you went out. He's a good little worker."

"That's something," Hunter said thoughtfully. "He seems like a good kid at heart. He's just had some rough experiences."

"I agree. I hope we can make things work out for him. He's poised to run whenever he gets an inkling that foster care might be in his future."

"It's too bad he had such a shitty time in care. There are some good families out there."

Nick nodded. "I don't see him going back into care, at least not in the usual way. He'll run."

"I think so too, but I'm glad he's doing okay here."

"He is. I told him he could play some video games when he finished in the kitchen."

Hunter smiled. Then his face sobered. "I heard something interesting when I was out on the streets."

"Oh yeah, and what might that be?"

"Seems that there's quite a rumor circulating around Liberty."

"There's always a rumor about something," Nick laughed. "It is drama queen city out there on the ave."

"True," Hunter replied, "but this one hit a little close to home."

Nick frowned. "What?"

"Seems the consensus is that Michael's going to kill off Rage and JT in the next issue, and Zephyr will be the new solo superhero."

"What? Are you shitting me? I know Michael's your father, but that would be a ridiculous move. It's Rage and JT that people want to read about. Didn't Brian say that Lacy was going to take over Justin's role as artist? Michael wouldn't kill off his superheroes … would he?"

Hunter shook his head. "I don't think so, but that's what they're saying."

Nick shook his head in disbelief.

 

*****

 

"I should call Carl and tell him I'll see him tomorrow," Brian said as he stretched.

"Okay," Justin replied. "We still have a couple of hours before you go pick up Bree and Patrick."

"You want to fuck again?" Brian asked surprised.

Justin nodded. "Don't you?"

"I am getting older, Sunshine. We've already had two rounds."

"Well, if you can't keep up…" Justin let his words hang in the air. He knew Brian could never refuse a challenge.

"You are asking for it," Brian threatened rolling over on top of Justin and pinning him to the bed.

"I know. Are you going to give it to me?" Justin asked with a grin.

"How can I refuse?"

The phone call to Carl was completely forgotten.

 

*****

 

"Hi, Dada," Bree called when she saw her father come into her classroom at school.

"Hi, Squirt. Did you have a good day?"

Bree bobbed her head at her father. Her perfectly coiffed ponytail bounced at the side of her head. "I made this," she said holding up a painting with one of her rainbows.

"Spectacular!" Brian gushed.

Bree smiled and handed the painting to him. Brian helped her on with her coat and boots.

"Mr. Kinney?" The teacher said coming over to them. "Bree tells me that you're going to bring in some of your partner's paintings and equipment to show the class how an artist works."

Brian groaned inwardly. He was hoping Bree would have forgotten all about it. "Bree wanted Justin to come, but he's getting ready for a show and couldn't afford to spare the time. I'm sure you'd rather have the real artist than me and a few paintings."
"Your partner is quite famous and it would be great to have him demonstrate his art to our class," the teacher said carefully.

"Then maybe we should wait until he is free."

"Now, Dada," Bree said firmly. She had taken in everything they had been saying and it didn't gibe with what she wanted to have happen. "I told everybody I would paint for them."

"I know, Squirt, but maybe…"

"No, Dada," Bree said clearly. "Tomorrow."

"I really can't tomorrow, but maybe the day after," Brian said reluctantly.

"That would be wonderful," the teacher replied. "I'll book you in for first thing in the morning."

"Great," Brian said with absolutely no enthusiasm. "Let's go home, Bree."

"'Kay, Dada," Bree said happily, as she grabbed her backpack and they quickly left the room. Brian wasn't sure he ever wanted to return, especially not the day after tomorrow.