The sweat soaked and stressed trio that had disarmed the bomb at the Justice Building, were beyond grateful to see Chip Wolfe leaning up against the limo outside.  It was illegally parked, but security assumed that the right palms had been greased and that he was entitled to be there.  Hudson City justice was highly influenced by who paid who what, so often times if you looked like you belonged, not a brow would be raised.  Drop the right name and just about anything could be forgiven.

Nemesis, Edison Palmer and Vincent DiSantiago enjoyed a quiet ride back to the Art Gallery.  The same gallery that would be hosting the charity auction, in a little over five hours time.  The same gallery that held Ophilia's bloodied corpse in some alternate future.  Each of them were lost in their own thoughts, wondering how what they did here would affect the future, what would they remember, and most importantly, had they done enough?  What if anything had been sacrificed for them to alter the hands of fate, and was it worth it?

For most of the ride back Nemesis had remained quiet, those same questions tumbling around in his mind. He couldn't wait to get back to their proper place and time with Ophilia alive and well. He also felt a knot growing in his stomach in case...well, just because. He wanted to know and he didn't. He wanted it over with. Sitting in the car he was the picture of stoic resolve. In reality he was simply trying not to throw up, or scream. Or both.

It took almost an hour before Stone, Sebastian and Danny met up with them at the gallery.  Stone looked more comfortable than the others on the motorcycles, but the important thing was that they had made it back safely.  When they touched base earlier, not much was said.  There was mention of significant collateral damage, but Stone could sense that his good friend wasn't in the mood for details.  They'd figure all of that stuff out later.

"Go on," Stone said when they pulled up.  He pulled his Conk phone out and said, "I got to arrange for the bikes."

The Gallery was officially closed, but there was activity inside.  A florist van and a catering van were parked in the back lot, and there was a significant amount of hustle and bustle as they went in and out through the service door.  Sebastian's goal was to get the group into the stage area, and he knew that with his last name, he shouldn't have much trouble getting the contractors to accommodate his wishes.

"Sebastian," Danny said as the pair mounted the stairs, leaving Stone to deal with the bikes. The younger man stopped just a step below the older, hands shoved deep into his pockets. He regarded his cousin carefully, sunlight spilling color onto the midnight black of Danny's hair like an oil slick over water. "Was it enough? Did we do it, do ya think?"

Nemesis slowed his steps to better hear the answer. His heart was pounding enough as it was. Had they done enough? Had they done too much?

Pausing for a moment on the stairs, Sebastián took a moment, and ran through everything that had happened, from the shooting, up to their motorcycle ride here.  Finally, he faced Danny and gave a small sigh.  "I'd like to say yes, everything is perfect and happy. We'll go back to sunshine and rainbows, and a choir of angels.  However, I just don't know.  We stopped the man who was going to shoot her, we even stopped both bombs that hadn't gone off yet, in our time.  Problem is, we don't know what is happening to those 2 men now.  Do they have contacts in the Police Department? Have they been released already? Is the assassination attempt is back on schedule?  We knew what was going to happen before we stepped through the portal.  Problem is, the moment we left those two back at the hotel, what we knew was worthless." 

Nemesis let his breath out slowly. He'd be following up on all of that anyway. Off the books, of course.

Slowly, subtly he'd become more animated, more agitated as he'd continued speaking. Catching himself, he stopped, and took a breath.  "My opinion is, we'll go back and everything will be fine. We did enough, more than enough."

"Do we tell her?" 

"NO!" The answer was quick, and emphatic.  Nemesis stopped in his tracks. Sebastián looked around, making eye contact with everyone present. "We tell no one anything that happened here.  Not your girlfriend, not your mother, not even your shrink."

"I didn't have a mother," Stone said as he walked up the stairs.  "Just a penguin." Nemesis shook his head.

When he reached the others gathered on the stairs, he nudged Sebastian and acknowledged, "Relax, doc, inside joke.  What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.  I got it."

"Well..."  Vinny interjected slowly, obviously putting some care into his thoughts.  "I'm not gonna say anything.  ...but let's not forget that it's Baby we're talking about.  She has a way of just knowing things and I'd bet money that she'll catch one of you with your pants down."  Here his eyes swung to regard Nemesis.  "And she's gonna know if we're lying, so I'd recommend having a good story or excuse not to be forthcoming.  I'm an expert at working my way around Baby, it's the rest of you I'm worried about."

"No one says anything," Nemesis reiterated. If you 'get caught', you refer her to me. Consider this an order for as long as any of you are Conquistadors. None of this becomes public. None of this gets talked about." He paused, making sure he had their attention. "None of this happened."

Sebastián looked visibly relieved that the team leader was taking his request seriously.  He knew Vinny wouldn't say anything, but he had had doubts about the rest.

Danny considered the team leaders reply, then shrugged. "Your call." He watched the others as they gathered on the stairs whistling something lyrical, soft and low.

Palmer looked dissatisfied. He nodded, but gave Nemesis a we need to talk look.

The biker looked over at Nemesis and said, "The bikes'll be picked up in about fifteen, twenty minutes.  No questions asked."

"Cool." Nemesis paused a step, one hand going to his face. "Uh, Danny? Do you think you could...?" He waved a hand in front of his face, then smiled. "I don't know what'll happen if I go back like this but I'm not keen on finding out.

? -- Danny

"So." Nemesis took a deep breath, struggling to quell his rising anxiety. "What now?" He directed his question to Sebastian.

"Well," Sebastián gestured towards the building. "I will use my DiSantiago name to get us inside. We will make our way back to the stage, and I'll take us home.  Unless I'm horribly mistaken, all the heavy lifting is over."

Mary Chadwick of Happy Time Consulting was thrown for a serious loop when three of that evening's main events came strolling through the back service door.  Her mouth dropped open and her clipboard fell limply to her side in disbelief.  She couldn't fathom what the men up for auction were doing there so early.  "Wow.  Wow...o...wow...o...wow.  Aren't you guys the early birds.  Are you here to check up on things?  We're still getting all the decorations and food in place, but your dressing rooms are up and running."

"Just a quick security check," Nemesis smiled. "You can't be too careful about these things, you know." He made a show of glancing around. "Would you mind giving us a moment? We'd just like to make sure everything's good to go for tonight."

"Uh...well, okay!  Sure.  Yeah."  She nodded her head and smiled.  "I'll just let the troops go on break.  Yeah.  This will be okay, I have plenty of time.  Plenty of time."  She bit her bottom lip nervously, her body language contradicting her words.  "We'll be back in thirty!"  Even though she didn't understand why she and her people needed to vacate the main stage area, she did so willingly enough.  After getting the nod of approval, she placed her clipboard on a nearby table and headed out, phone already to her ear.

Reaching into his coat pocket, Sebastián pulled a business card out, and stepped over to the table with Mary's clipboard on it.  Borrowing her pen, he wrote something on the back, and tucked the business card under the clip, professional side up.  Returning her pen, he looked at the group. "Ok, lets get backstage."

Once backstage, Sebastián took a careful look around, making sure there were no workers in the area. "Ok, give me like five minutes to get this open. Please keep an eye out, and let me know if you see someone coming, and I'll stop if necessary."  

Nervous energy raced through Sebastián, and he forced himself to calm down. In moments he was going to see how this all worked out.  Closing his eyes, he pictured the moment he'd frozen time, visualizing it exactly in his mind.  Once again, the air began to grow heavy, thickening as his power coalesced. The heavy air was centered on Sebastián, but slowly expanded, filling the area.

Staring straight ahead, a small pinpoint of light appeared in front of Sebastián, and it began to creep sideways, stretching until it was a full six feet long.  The heavy air slowly rippled, wavering slowly as the bar of light expanded upward and downward. The slowly moving light stopped once again when the portal had reached eight feet tall. The faint image of the ballroom appeared through the portal, showing them where they'd come from.

The initial reaction from most of the heroes was a flinch of surprise at the activity on the other side. They could see everything as clearly as if they were standing on the stage, but it quickly became apparent that it was a one way affect and that no one in the future room could see the portal or the trespassers on the other side.
 
This time he was ready for the strain of holding the portal, and although he shook slightly on his feet, he remained standing, and glanced over at the men who'd altered history with him.  "Ready when you are."  his voice was tight with concentration.

The scene on the other side of the portal was alive with activity, the curtain was wide open and Nemesis was center stage with his back to the portal.  Angelo was off to the side, mic in hand, and the tables beyond were full of happy guests. Ophilia had a pleasant but quizzical look on her face as she looked across the room. Danny was sitting at the same table, smiling that private smile that was a near permanent resident on his face and everything seemed good. 

Mason had watched the impulsive bidding, frowning slightly at Ophilia's involvement. Stone was not the Conquistador he'd expected her to bid on, if she bid at all. He'd had doubts when she hadn't bid on him. To be honest he was a little hurt by that, but shrugged it off. They both had issues to resolve, and again, Mason sensed it wasn't 'their time'. It never seemed to be.

As Phi's uncle announced Nemesis, a sharp stabbing pain seared through Mason's skull. His entire world seemed to blank out as the pain became the soul focus of his existence. It nearly drove him to his knees, but Mason managed to lock his body into a standing position as he struggled against the pain. If this was an attack he'd be damned if he let it take him down without a fight.

The intensity backed off a little, enough that he could tolerate it. His senses returned and he glared around the room searching for the source of the attack. He saw nothing out of the ordinary as he inhaled deeply sorting through the myriad of scents.

Danny eyed  the portal speculatively, then stepped forward. "See ya on the other side," he said, then stepped through. As soon as he stepped through he disappeared completely and only the Danny at the table remained.  The young man at the table gave a brief start, as though he'd heard a loud noise. He blinked and looked around, his smile broadening when he caught sight of Ophilia. He grinned at her impishly, and gave a huge two thumbs up in her direction. 

Phi turned her already quizzical gaze on him and shook her head.  "No, I'm not gonna bid on him."

Danny laughed. "You bid on whoever takes yer fancy." he exclaimed, then stood, bent over, and kissed the top of her head with a loud smack. 

"Alright Cuz."  Vinny said as he visibly prepped himself to take that step to the other side. "Jesus Fuck...."  His words were swallowed as he disappeared into the portal.  On the far side of the room, at the bar, Vincent DiSantiago doubled over and gasped as he nearly choked on a shot of whiskey. 

"Is that supposed to happen?" Palmer asked, gesturing towards Vinny. Sebastian was too intent on maintaining the portal to respond.

"Jesus. Fuck. Indeed," Palmer growled. He stepped through the rippling circle and gasped as he seemed to be in two places at once, his two bodies rushing towards each other faster than he could think and...and he was sitting at a table, accompanied by a queasy stomach and a luscious brunette.

The young woman - Lori? Lorna? Lana! - was intent on the auction. She didn't seem to have noticed anything unusual, although just a moment ago she had turned to whisper something catty about Ophilia DiSantiago. Except that a moment ago, Ed had been somewhere else. Somewhen else. Whatever.

Ed looked around, caught Vinny's eye, and mouthed "Time travel sucks." Vinny looked confused, then gave him a thumbs up.

Backstage, Mason had crouched down behind a display. The pain in his head had flared dramatically three times, each time it felt as if reality had shredded and he was at the center point of each tear. each pulse lasted only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity to him. Each pulse ended just before he lost grip of who he was. It felt like an intentional push to drive him insane. He clenched a wooden support, for balance, and felt his claws scar the wood.

On their side of the portal, Stone gave Nemesis a chin nod and said, "You're up."

Nemesis nodded. He'd been eager to go, and not so eager, both at the same time. He could see that everything was all right, but he still couldn't get the image of a blood-soaked Ophilia lying on the floor out of his mind. He didn't know if he could keep it from her. He didn't know if he should, despite what he'd told the others.

He took a deep breath and offered Stone half a smile. "Wasn't as bad as you thought, huh?" He clapped the man on the shoulder and stepped through the portal.

--and winced at the pain behind his eyes. For a minute he saw everything double, and it was like a rubber band had been snapped directly onto his brain.

He swallowed and took a deep breath, putting his smile firmly in place. He allowed himself a quick look around the room, his eyes touching upon Ophilia only briefly. Just get through it, he told himself. You know how it'll end. His eyes slid to Christie Danner. She caught his, smiled, and looked away again. He chuckled. Yeah. He was back on familiar territory. He looked over at Ophilia again and gave her an encouraging wink.

Finally alone with a strained and occupied Sebastian on their side of the portal, Stone's shoulders seemed to relax a little.  The tall, leather-jacketed man was in no particular hurry as he fished out a cigarette and lit it with his American flag Zippo.  He took a leisurely drag and tilted his head back to slowly exhale a grey-white cloud towards the ceiling.  The few lights up high reflected in his sunglasses, making them into mirrors.

"Tell me, Doc," he asked conversationally, yet with that same neutrality that defined his usual speech.  "What would happen if you or I didn't go back through that portal?"

Sebastián turned to regard the biker hero, he'd been expecting something when Stone had sent Nemesis through before himself.  "To be perfectly honest, I have no idea. Just as I have no idea what happened when you shoved Mason through as the portal was closing.  It's possible that we will remain in this 'when', with full memories of what we'd done today. Another possibility is we could remain here, but everything from the time of the assasination to right now will be gone from our minds. Possibly we could get knocked out and wake up raving lunatics, neighbors to those two we fought earlier today.  Look, this isn't the time for 20 fucking questions, just go through if you are going, I'm not going to get caught here." he stated in a calm flat voice, with no hint of anger or irritation.

The biker took another drag and turned to look at the time manipulating doctor.  All it would take is one punch, just one good shot, he thought.  He'd never murdered anybody in cold blood before and hadn't planned on starting anytime soon, but the thought of someone in that family who could go back and fuck with his life was just too disturbing.  Not that his life hadn't already been fucked up enough, but the thing was that he probably wouldn't even know anything had changed.  It was a feeling of total naked vulnerability that, no matter how he considered it, was simply unacceptable to him.

And yet, this was murder he was contemplating.  He could call it preemptive self defense if he wanted to but in the end he'd be killing someone with premeditated calculation, and what would that make him?  No, Luke was right.  He'd have to live with it, for now.

For now.

Stone dropped his smoke on the ground and ground it out underneath the heel of his boot.  He paused, his natural inclination to make some kind of threat or say something that sent a properly intimidating message making him do so.  But as he searched for the words, he realized that it was he who was intimidated, because in the final analysis there just wasn't anything he could do to a guy who could just go back and make him go away.  So instead he tamped down that instinct this one time and said nothing.  When, if, it came time to pull the trigger, there'd have to be no warning at all.  Not even now.

After stepping through, Stone experienced an odd sensation in his eyes but nothing more.  He squeezed them shut a couple of times and after it cleared he found himself standing backstage where he had been trying to figure out his boss's unexpected decision to land him in the auction.  He had a full recollection of what they'd done, and without further ado he exited backstage right, to make his way back to the bar.

Two more reality wrenching pulses seared their way through Mason's head, fragments of images accompanied them, images too surreal to understand, too slippery to grasp. The attack faded slightly after the last pulse, and Mason felt pain in his hand as splinters drove deep into the meat of his fingers under the claws. He struggled to his feet and managed to make his way to the service exit without  attracting too much attention. At the questioning look of one of the organizers, Mason pulled his cell phone out, indicating an urgent call. As the service door shut behind him, Mason slumped against it, sliding to crouch in the cool night air. 

Lana Rodriguez, the pretty dark haired woman that held a striking resemblance to Ophilia, watched as Mason crossed the room.  She turned towards Edison Palmer, and her brow was furrowed with concern.  "Did you see him?  He didn't look very well."

"I only have eyes for you," Edison replied automatically.

"That's so sweet!"  She cooed, making a deliberate effort to pull her eyes away from the door that closed behind Mason.

Letting out breath Sebastian hadn't known he was holding, he looked around. Confirming he was the last one in this when, he barely hesitated before stepping through the portal, wanting things to be over.  As he crossed through, a strange sensation overwhelmed him, and he saw his own body as he rushed towards it.  It was over in a split second, but the sharp pain behind his eyes lingered for moments. 

The other thing, the more immediate thing was Phi was back in his head.  Barely able to contain his joy, he relished in the wholeness he felt once again, hoping he'd never be without this sense of completion.  Quickly he closed the portal, and took in his surroundings, trying to discern where he was in the ballroom. 

With everyone safely back in the right time and place, they were amazed at how quickly the disorientation passed and their consciouses merged.  It was almost like they'd never left but there was so much more in their memories from the merging time lines. 

Earlier today there had been reports of impostors, an agitated Ophilia had almost called off their participation in the auction, but Bastian had changed her mind.  The auction itself had mirrored their previous experience almost perfectly, right down to the peculiar fact that Ophilia had bid on and won Stone. 

Despite each of the heroes thorough scan of the area, nothing spoke of an impostor or anyone in the area carrying a gun.  It seemed as though they had truly averted the disaster, and the auction was almost over.  Nemesis was still on the stage, as the aged Miss Havecamp and her oxygen tank warred it out with a mild mannered blond.

"One hundred and thirty thousand," announced Angelo DiSantiago.  "And we have a new bidder!  Miss Christine Danner for one hundred and fourty thou--sand dollars!"

Back at the table that Danny shared with Ophilia, he saw her posture stiffen in surprise as her gaze swung to regard her best friend. The Irishman decided against saying anything. Who knew what mines lay strewn about for the unwary regarding this particular fellow.

Miss Havecamp was loathe to go home empty handed, and much to Nemesis' dismay raised her withered old hand again.  "We have one hundred and fifty thousand dollars!"  Angelo boomed in his big voice.

A nervous chuckle escaped the costumed hero's throat before he quickly regained his composure. He was back on unfamiliar ground, the future uncertain, unknown. It was...familiar. And he was happy. They'd done it, and no one was the wiser. Of course he was happy! He was almost giddy!

He cast a surreptitious glance in Ophilia's direction, amused at her surprise at her friend's bid, then turned to nod at Miss Havecamp with a smile, acknowledging her interest. Then, in an uncharacteristic show of arrogance, he turned slightly toward Christine, trying to ramp his smile up a notch, his entire posture saying, 'Well? Are you going to let this go?'

Christine answered by raising her hand again, in a half salute.  It was obvious that she'd caught her friend's glare and it had taken a bit of her enthusiasm away.

"One hundred and sixty dollars!"  Angelo's gaze swung to the mellow blond in the corner that had dropped out of bidding a moment ago, and then to Miss Havecamp, who sneered and gave her 'feh' hand wave.  "Going once!  Going twice!  Sold to Miss Christine Danner!"

Outside, even Mason could hear the enthusiasm in the room as Nemesis' bid matched Stone's winning bid.  The pains in his head had finally subsided, but even so the residual pounding was distracting at best.  The odd sense of dejavu that he'd felt was still haunting the edges of his mind, but even that disorientation passed as the cool breeze washed over him.

Mason took a few deep breaths to calm and steady himself, allowing the night breeze to wisk away the small beads of sweat caused by his battle with ... what ever the hell had happened. His eyes searched the darkeness, his ears trained for any out of place sound, his nose sorted through the scent of the city, and he found nothing out of the oridnary, nothing to indicate a vector of attack.

Already the pain had subsided to bearable levels, as if he'd suffered a migraine of epic proportions. But he wasn't prone to them, and his altered body chemistry, with it's amazing regenerative powers made most illnesses a thing of the past. He'd have to talk to Bas about it. Maybe his childhood friend would have an insight.

As the cheering inside got louder, Mason decided it was time to play polite socialite again. He slung his jacket over his shoulder and sauntered back into the Gallery.  A mischievous smile danced on his lips and a devil glinted in his eyes.

As he entered the backstage area, Mason paused again. He drew in another deep breath, counting and cataloguing the scents of the gallery; various flavors of alcohol, expensive perfumes and colognes, sweat, lust, nervousness, even some light overtones of petulant anger. Nothing threatening in and of itself. Just like the city, there seemed to be no sign of anything out of the expected.

He listened, his sensitive hearing sorting out the various conversations that wound through the crowd, until he heard the familiar rich tones of Ophilia. He savored the musicality of her voice, and searched it for any sign of worry, or stress. There was none. He sighed mentally at the loss of the ease of their relationship. Perhaps some time soon it would be time to talk, to decisively determine the status of their relationship. However, tonight was not that night.  

He pulled back his shoulders and shrugged off the residual pain of the attack. Mason made his way from backstage back into the general audience area. Heads and eyes followed him as he stalked through the the tables with the grace of a hunting panther. The scent of lust filled his nostrils and his smile went from forced and genteel to genuine and confident. He nodded as people called to him, adroitly dodging wandering hands.

Mason's aura of raw sensuality left a visible wake in the crowd as he worked his way to one specific table, near the back. He drew in the scent of her, the light floral perfume, soap, cosmetics, hairspray, and the rich scent of her. So very familiar, yet different.

He smiled, his eyes still dancing with mischief. "I do hope I'm at the right table. I was told my new owner was here ..." 

The pretty woman turned away from Edison and gave him her most dazzling smile.  "I like the sound of that.  I'm Lana, and it's a real pleasure to meet you."

"You certainly paid handsomely for the privelege," Mason replied with a smile as equally bright. "I assure you that the pleasure is certainly mutual. On behalf of the children's hospital that will benefit from this evening's transactions, I thank you for your generosity."

"Of course."  Lana gushed warmly.  "It was for a wonderful cause."

Mason's smile turned sultry as he met Lana's gaze, twin imps still dancing in his eyes. "I do hope that philanthropy wasn't your only motive, or I shall be dreadfully disappointed."

A blush found it's way through Lana's dark complexion, making her give Edison an apologetic look.

Mason noticed Edison, and smiled warmly. "I do hope I'm not intruding," he said as he extended his hand. "Mason Willoughby."

"Edison Palmer," Lana's companion replied as he shook Mason's hand. He smiled, his eyes touched with some secret amusement, and added, "Haven't we met before?"

"It's possible. I've been designated the default Willoughby family representative, so I'm at all of these type of soiree's. It's possible we met at one of those." Mason replied. He took in the man's scent, and while tantalizingly familiar, he really couldn't place him. "Or quite possibly at some function or other for my LeMastre's Park initiative." 

"Yes," Edison replied. "It must have been at an event very like this one." The air of secret amusement faded as he registered that Mason, when not upset to the point of hysteria, was a very attractive man. Ed had the feeling he was going to lose the bet with Umberto. He took some comfort in imagining the train wreck in the making of Mason, who clearly had feelings for Ophilia, getting together with an Ophilia look-alike.

"Won't you join us?" Edison said, gesturing to an empty chair. "I can play chaperone, or I can conveniently go get drinks and leave you two crazy kids alone."

Mason seemed to consider Edison's words, then glanced at his watch. Tempting though the prospect was, he needed to make an appearance at the club to make sure everything was running smoothly. His head throbbed, reminding him he'd just gone through an excruciating few moments, and he needed to recover a little before heading back out into the streets as Archon. 

"Unfortunately, I have other claims on my time tonight." He cast a disappointed frown towards Lana. "Please, enjoy the rest of the evening, I didn't mean to intrude." He extended his hand to Edison in parting, the quirked eyebrow and small smirk that graced his lips told Edison he'd better make what headway he could with Lana, because it would soon be Mason's turn.

Mason turned to Lana, and smoothed his face into mask of exaggerated regret. "I do so wish I had more time. I will eagerly count the minutes until our next meeting." He bowed slightly to press his cheek to hers.  "I look forward to meeting my owner's demands." His breath tickled softly across her cheek as his whisper danced lightly in her ear.

Words seemed to have left her at that, only the renewed flush of her cheeks and the faintest scent of arousal let him know that his words had affected her.

Mason allowed a knowing chuckle, almost a purr to sound low in his throat before he drew back slightly and took one of Lana's hands in his. He brought it to his lips. His lips brushed the back of her hand lightly, butterfly wings dancing on the wind. The scent of her arousal caused his beast to stir. His pants suddenly became just a little snugger. Mason almost changed his plans for the evening, her scent was that tantalizing. 

He forced his beast back down and released her hand gently. When he stood, his smile was filled with regret. His eyes, when he met Lana's, were piercing in their intensity. They seemed to shine in the dim light, emerald stars in the twilight sky, before fading.

"It has been a definite pleasure meeting you, my dear." Mason winked saucily and turned to head back into the throng. There was a slight swagger to his steps as he moved away. 

"Guys like that make some men jealous," Edison observed. His tone was dry but he smiled ever so slightly.

Mason approached the table where Ophilia and some of her family were seated. "Congratulations on the event. A fantastic turnout this year, Phi."

"Hello Mason."  Her tone was pleasant, but he knew her well enough to know that something about tonight's events was irksome.  "I wish I could take some of the credit, but not tonight.  Tonight I'm just a guest."

"Don't be modest. I now Stone and Nemesis wouldn't have been up on the auction block without your input." Mason smiled. "Truly inspired, and great publicity as well." Mason met her gaze with a slight raise to his left eyebrow.It was his subtle, and familiar, way of letting her know he knew she was annoyed at something. Her scent didn't indicate anything immediate, so he wasn't prepared to force the issue. He'd let her make the decision whether to let him in on it or not. 

That made her smile.  "Actually, I didn't have to twist any arms.  They weren't overjoyed by the idea, but Nemesis is a sucker for kids.  ...and Stone.  ...well, I'm not sure what Nemesis had to say to get him on board, but he didn't give me any grief about it."

"Interesting. They certainly made a splash out her tonight. Looks like I might have a run for my money for the Hudson City's most eligible bachelor title." Masons tone was light and teasing. "Maybe you'll let me borrow them when it comes time to raise money for for my LMI."

?

Mary Chadwick photo by Phliar Shamiim.