As soon as Adam opened the door, Faith breezed right past him, completely ignoring the fact that he was still wrapped in a sheet. "Do you mind?"

"Nah, I grew up with brothers."

"This better be important, Fee."

"It is. To me."

"Sit down, then."

"I'd rather stand."

"I'm sure you would, but I'd really like to get out of this sheet…"

"Go right ahead. Doesn't bother me," she chirped brightly, her smile lending her the perfect air of innocence.

Adam sighed. He wasn't going to win this one so he let it go. A moment later, they both heard the shower running. That was good. It meant Jazz had successfully escaped to the bathroom.

"It's okay, y'know."

"What's okay?" Adam asked with a frown. He wasn't sure he liked it when Faith reversed their roles.

"You and Jazz."

"I don't remember asking you for your permission," Adam snapped.

"And I'm not giving it. I just meant—I'm glad you guys are together."

Adam resembled no one more than Michael at that moment. His eyes narrowed as he studied his half-sister. "Thanks. But that doesn't let you off the hook."

"Hm?" Faith made a noise in her throat that could be interpreted any number of ways.

"A little while ago, you claimed a certain expertise with men—"

"Not men. Not exactly," Faith mumbled, suddenly finding her fingernails fascinating.

"Then we're not talking about *men* as in plural?"

"Ummm…no."

"Then you're not screwing around, getting all this *experience* with naked men's bodies firsthand?"

Faith started to pace. She felt comfortable teasing Adam and Jazz. It came naturally to her. But she never expected him to question her in depth about her own sex life…or lack thereof.

It was time for a little truth. "Ummm…no again." Faith sat down with a flourish that was characteristic of her personality. "No men plural. Just *one*. And he wasn't *naked*. Well, not all the way."

"I'm relieved to hear that," Adam said. "Unless…"

"Unless what?" Faith wrung her hands. She didn't like being on the receiving end of this kind of thing. God, Adam was going to be just like Michael, even if he didn't realize it.

"It *was* Connor, wasn't it?"

Faith stared at him incredulously. "Of course it's Connor! Adam! What do you think I am, a slut?"

Adam hid a grin. "The thought did cross my mind once or twice."

Faith drew herself up to her full height, which was not inconsiderable. She was a tall young woman and she could easily give Adam a run for his money. "Adam! I can assure you, my virtue is still intact."

"Good."

"It's hanging by a thread, but that's another story," she muttered.

But Adam clearly heard her. "Maybe you should wait until Connor's old enough to appreciate what you want to give him," he suggested.

Now Faith looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Only thing is…*he's* not the problem. It's *me*."

Adam didn't even blink. He wasn't surprised in the least by Faith's admission. "Maybe you should stop throwing yourself at him."

"I've tried." She leaned forward, her hands clutching her knees. "Adam, I've really tried. But sometimes—"

"—the feelings get really overwhelming?"

Faith nodded.

"I've been there." Adam heard the shower stop running. Jazz would be out any second.

"How did you get through it?"

Adam raked a hand through his hair. "Having sex is easy. Having a relationship isn't. I'm not saying you need to stay a virgin until you get married, Fee. But you need to be sure that you know what you're doing…and that you're doing it for the right reasons."

All at once Faith's eyes, which were more gray than green today, filled with tears. "I love Connor…and I can't stand to see him hurting like this, Adam. Before—"

Adam's entire expression softened. He pulled one of Faith's hands into his and stroked the back of it in an unconscious attempt to soothe her, not even realizing that he had picked this up from his father. "Before Madeline died?" he prompted.

"Yes," she whispered. "Before she…we were so close. We started, you know, fooling around, only…to me, to me, Adam, it *wasn't* just fooling around. I really, really want it to happen. With him."

"But?"

"But ever since…it's like he's shut down or something. He doesn't touch me—"

"Maybe he *can't*, Faith," Adam said gently. "Maybe it…hurts too much to touch anyone right now."

"But I don't even know how to talk to him anymore, Adam! He won't…talk to me." Faith crumpled suddenly, burying her face in her hands. It was hard to tell who was more surprised. Adam. Or Jazz, who was standing quietly in the hallway outside the bathroom, drawn by the distraught young woman's voice.

"I love him so much and…he won't even talk to me," she wept.

"Ssh," Adam forgot about his state of undress and pulled her into his arms. His eyes met Jazz' over head, silently pleading. Jazz nodded once and entered the bedroom.

Jazz returned a minute later, completely clothed. "Fee. Come here, honey."

Adam stood up with the young girl in his embrace and gave her to Jazz. He flew into the bathroom, took the fastest shower possible, and dressed hurriedly. When he came out, he picked up the phone. "You can't go to school like this, Fee. I'm going to call Mom. She can come and get you—"

"No! She'll wrap me up in cotton for a week and I don't want that. I need to be with Connor," Faith protested, tears angrily streaking her face.

"Then be with him, Fee. But don't expect him to talk. Just…be there. Maybe that's what he needs right now."

"But what if he never talks about this, Adam? I mean, he's got to, right?"

"Yeah. But maybe not to you, Fee. Can you accept that?"

Faith squeezed her eyes closed before opening them again a moment later. She still looked upset, but a new glint of determination was in her eyes. "No. If it was Jazz, could you?"

Adam felt his respect for the firebrand that was his half-sister grow. "No," he answered without hesitation. Jazz glanced at him, his green eyes gentle on the face of his lover.

"I could never give up on him," Adam continued.

"Neither can I," Faith vowed. She would get through to Connor. She had to.

"So what do you think?" Faith asked quietly.

"Huh?" Connor looked preoccupied. "Sorry. I wasn't listening."

"I know."

Quick to anger, Connor scowled at Faith and snapped, "What does that mean?"

Faith blinked. "Just what I said. That's all. I could see you weren't listening."

"Then why the hell do you keep talking to me?"

"Connor—"

"Go away, Fee! Just—go away!" Connor was sitting on the wall that separated the Samuelle and Hunter properties. He drew his knees up to his chest and pressed his forehead to his knees, hiding his face.

Faith was hurt beyond words, but she refused to give in to the pain. Connor needed her. He just didn't want to admit it. But that was okay. She would follow Adam's advice and hope that her presence alone would be enough.

She sat down at his feet, her back against the low wall. After plucking a blade of grass, she played with it, pretending it was the most fascinating thing in the world. But she didn't utter a word.

The silence was deafening. Faith could hear his ragged breathing as he struggled to regain control of his emotions and she knew that she didn't dare comment. But it was tearing her apart. All she wanted to do was hold him.

Connor raised his head and stared at her with red-rimmed eyes. "Why the hell are you still here?" he cried, embarrassed that she saw him like this.

"It's okay, Con," she began, only to be cut off by the force of his barely leashed rage.

"It is *not* okay! It's never been okay! You don't know what the hell you're talking about!"

Faith wasn't used to being yelled at. By anyone. But she didn't react predictably at all. Her dull grey eyes filled with tears, much the way they had that morning. "You're right," she whispered. "This didn't happen to *me*. It happened to *you*."

"Stop trying to be so fucking nice!" Connor exploded. "Did I ask you to be nice? Did I? Why do you have to be so *nice* to me?" he snarled.

Faith stumbled to her feet, her eyes awash in tears now, making it difficult to see. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry! There's no reason for you to be sorry! I'm acting like a complete asshole and you're standing there taking it! What's wrong with you, Faith?" His anger would have been hard enough to handle, but Connor didn't realize that he was crying, too. That combination completely undid Faith.

"I was trying to help!" she shouted.

"Well, don't!" Connor shouted back.

"Fine. I'll just leave you alone. I hope you and your misery are very happy together."

Connor shut his mouth and tightened his lips to the point of whiteness.

Faith burst into tears and started to walk away. Connor grabbed her by the wrist and pulled hard. She fell to her knees and stayed there. Aghast at what he'd done, Connor reached out a hand to pull her to her feet, unsurprised when she refused to take it.

"No, thanks," she ground out.

"I wish I could explain—"

"No, you don't. You want to be pissed off. Well, go ahead. But don't take it out on *me*."

"I'm not mad at *you*. This has nothing to do with *you*, Fee."

"But it does," she said hoarsely. "Only you can't see that."

"Right now I can't see much of anything, Fee."

They looked intently into each other's eyes for long moments, both of them obviously afraid to get any closer. The tension grew unbearable until it reached the breaking point when Connor suddenly pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

Faith was confused. She reacted without thinking and slapped Connor across the face. For a second, she thought he was going to cry. Then she saw his dark blue eyes become even darker.

He slapped her back, the silver ring on his right hand cutting her.

"Oh, my God!" Faith cried. "My nose is bleeding."

"Fee! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to—"

She didn't wait to hear what he wanted to say. She fled into the house, heading straight for the kitchen and the refrigerator. Grabbing some ice, she wrapped a wet dish towel around the cubes and pressed them to her face. She had to hide. She couldn't let anyone see her this way. If her family found out, what would they do to Connor?

Racing around the corner, she ran right into her brother. "Chris!"

Frowning, Chris asked, "What happened to your face?"

"It was an accident," Faith offered.

"Someone did this to you? Who was it?"

Faith shook her head and refused to answer. Chris' eyes narrowed alarmingly. He turned on his heel and strode outside.

It didn't take long to reach the scene of the crime or the perpetrator. Connor was positively white. "Is she all right?"

"*You* did that?"

"I didn't mean to."

"You punched my sister in the face? What the hell is the matter with you?"

"It wasn't like that. I swear."

Chris threw the first blow, but Connor defended himself. Soon both teenagers were rolling on the ground, trading punches and kicks with a frightening accuracy. Faith arrived just in time to see Chris deliver a powerful roundhouse kick to Connor's head. "Chris, stop it! You'll kill him!"

Chris paused long enough to catch his breath. "I don't care. He's not getting away with what he did to you."

Faith grabbed her brother by the shirt, forcing him to look at her. Blood still trickled wetly from her nose. In her haste to get outside, she'd dropped the makeshift ice pack. "Don't you think I can defend myself if I want to? If I'd wanted to punch him, I would've."

"Then why didn't you?" Chris demanded.

Faith whispered, "I love him."

"Well, you'd better get over it in a hurry cause you're not seeing him again."

Faith's face tightened. "Who says?"

"I do."

"Fuck you!" Faith exclaimed, relieved to find such a convenient target for her anger.

Ignoring her, Chris nudged the unconscious Connor with his foot. "He's going to have one hell of a headache when he wakes up."

"How'd you like to join him?" Faith spat.

"Who's going to make me?" Chris said, trying to stare her down.

"Me," Faith declared, never taking her eyes off her brother as she knelt at Connor's side. She stroked his face, noting that the place on his forehead where Chris kicked him was already beginning to bruise.

Connor came to moments later to find that Faith was rubbing her tear-stained cheek against his. "Please be okay," she kept repeating, over and over again.

His fingers weakly touched her cheek. She turned her head slightly and saw that he was awake. "Oh, Con," she murmured.

With the little bit of strength he had left, he surrendered to Faith. Her tears dripped freely onto his face as she kissed him, her lips trembling.

"I love you."

"I know."

"I've been such a jerk," Connor confessed.

Faith sniffed and tried to smile. "I can't argue with that, Con."

Faith sprawled across Connor, who continued to lie quietly on the grass, while her twin eyed the two of them with silent animosity. The last straw was when Connor buried his face in Faith's hair…and Faith not only permitted it, she closed her eyes, her dreamy expression telling Chris that she was savoring Connor's touch.

Chris couldn't understand that at all. Maybe he hadn't tried hard enough. Or maybe he just wasn't interested. "Y'know, you two deserve each other," he said in a disgusted tone of voice.

"You're just jealous," Faith replied without even opening her eyes.

"Of you? Get real."

"Whatever."

"You guys are so fucking emotional. It's like it doesn't matter whether you're making out or fighting."

"What's your point?" Faith asked, her eyes coming open to reveal her readiness as well as her determination to defend her chosen mate.

"I'm not sure I have one. But you should be thinking about what you're going to say to Mom and Dad. Wait till they get a look at you," Chris finished, folding his arms in front of him. He looked none the worse for wear after his altercation with Connor. But Connor…Connor looked like he had definitely seen better days. And Faith…she was good at thinking on her feet, but he thought it would take more than that to convince their mother and father that Connor wasn't dangerous.

Faith shrugged and lay her head down on Connor's chest. Connor's arms wrapped possessively around her as he glared fiercely at Chris. His eyes said it all. //You may be her brother, but when it came to taking sides, she chose *mine*.//

"I didn't mean to hurt her," Connor said reluctantly. It was clear that he didn't want to explain himself to Chris, of all people, but he didn't want to perpetuate bad feelings between them either. They'd been friends for a long time. He didn't want to jeopardize that. Besides, he planned to marry Chris' sister someday. He had to stay on good terms with his potential in-laws, didn't he?

Speaking of which…Michael and Nikita were approaching fast. Michael's face was as dark as a thundercloud. Not a good sign. Faith would be his little girl, no matter how old she became. As for Nikita…well, she knew what Faith could be like. Faith seemed to thrive on provoking him, like now, when her parents were within yards of them, she decided to stick her tongue in his mouth.

"Do you want to get me killed?" he hissed, breaking away as rapidly as possible.

"They can't object to a little kiss," Faith said innocently.

"A little—? You stuck your tongue in my mouth, Fee!" Connor retorted, trying to keep his voice down. Not to mention something else that needed to stay down.

As if she read his mind, Faith slipped her hand between his legs and pressed. "Is this for me?"

Connor gulped. "This is *so* not a good time to be doing that."

"I didn't do anything," Faith pouted, withdrawing her hand.

Connor groaned. "No, you just happen to be laying on top of me, but that's not *doing* anything."

"You didn't tell me it was bothering you."

"It's not…bothering me. Not exactly."

"Hmm…" Faith smiled enigmatically.

"What was that for?"

"I'm just glad you're talking to me again. But we need to talk for real, Con. I mean it."

"I know. It's just hard for me, y'know?"

She nodded. "But I want you to feel like you can tell me *anything*."

"O-kay…"

Faith smiled brightly, but Connor's next statement wiped the smile right off her face.

"Your mom and dad are here."

"How do they look?" asked Faith, afraid to peek just yet.

"Your mom is looking at *me* like I'm Jack the Ripper. She's looking at *you* like she's shipping you off to a convent."

"Great," Faith said glumly. "What about Dad?"

"Your dad is looking at *you* like he thinks the convent isn't isolated enough."

"How's he looking at *you*?"

"Like *I* might fit right into the convent, too, *after* he gets through with me."

"I can explain," Connor started to say.

Michael held up his hand in an obvious gesture for silence that was confirmed a moment later. "Don't talk."

"But—"

Suddenly an index finger was pointed directly at his face. "What part of that did you not understand?"

Connor closed his mouth with an audible pop. His dark blue eyes widened as his father joined Michael and Nikita. His goose was about to be seriously cooked. "Um, Dad, I—"

"Shut up."

Nikita glared at Neil. "You really shouldn't talk to your son that way."

"You can shut up, too. He's *my* son and I'll talk to him any way I feel like."

Michael glowered. "Tell me you didn't say that."

Neil ignored Michael and stared down at his son, who was afraid to move now. "Get your ass in the house."

Connor sat up so quickly, he dumped Faith off his lap and onto the grass before she could scramble to her hands and knees. "Yes, sir."

He dared one last look at Faith before he left and whispered, "Pray for me." Her hand tugged at his, reluctantly letting go when he started to walk away.

Faith smoothed her hands down her legs and looked decidedly uncomfortable. "Look, Dad—"

"Did I ask you to speak?"

"So…my son and your daughter, Michael. You have somewhere you want to ship this one, too?" Neil asked sarcastically.

A muscle twitched in Michael's cheek, the only visible sign that he was having difficulty controlling his emotions. His eyes looked cool and grey, not unlike his daughter's, but beneath the surface, he was furious. "Are you deliberately picking a fight with me, Neil?"

Nikita immediately stepped between the two men. "Neil's been through a rough time lately, Michael."

"Maybe he thinks that gives him immunity. It doesn't," Michael said coldly.

Nikita sighed exasperatedly and placed her palms on her husband's chest, effectively telling him that he was going to have to go through her to get to Neil. "Michael, did it ever occur to you that maybe Neil *wants* to be punished?"

Michael frowned, but the logic of her question was apparent to him, even in the state he was in. "Go home, Neil," he said wearily.

"We need to discuss this, Michael."

"Later," Michael replied tersely. "When you're feeling…more like yourself."

For a moment, it seemed as if Neil would refuse to go. But he caught Faith's anxious look, reminding him that he had to deal with Connor. "Later," Neil echoed, making his way carefully over the low stone wall.

Turning to his daughter again, Michael said, "Take your mother back to the house, Chris."

Chris rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, Dad. I'm probably the only one who knows what really happened here. Don't you want to hear what I have to say?"

"You were fighting with Connor. I hope you have a good explanation."

"The best, Dad. I was defending Fee. Con hit her. Can't you see he gave her a bloody nose?"

Michael's expression grew darker. "Is this true, Faith?"

"Um…yeah. Sorta. But not really—"

"What part of it is true, Faith? And answer quickly. I'm not giving you enough time to think of a good story."

"It's my fault, Daddy, okay?" Faith cried. "You want someone to blame? It's me, not Connor! He was pushing me away again and I should have just walked away. Only…I couldn't, Daddy. He was in pain, like you get when you can't let go of something that you really didn't have any control over."

Michael flushed, uneasy that his daughter knew his flaws and weaknesses as well as she did. "So you pushed back?" he asked, certain he knew what her answer would be.

"Yes." Faith dropped her gaze. Her father's eyes were all too knowing. He'd been through this before. With her mother. "I hit him first. He didn't mean to give me a nosebleed. But when he slapped me, his ring caught me," she finished quietly.

Chris stared at his twin sister. "You never said anything."

"You never gave me a chance, Chris!" she responded hotly.

Nikita glanced at Michael and knew instinctively that his anger had burned itself out. His daughter hadn't tried to lie her way out of the situation and his son hadn't sunk to the level of solving problems with his fists.

"The next time you two have a disagreement, try to use actual words, okay?" Nikita suggested, regarding her daughter with kind blue eyes.

Faith nodded. Chris patted his sister's shoulder affectionately. "I'm sorry I went after Connor, Fee. But I couldn't let him hurt you. You understand, right?"

Faith nodded again before hugging her brother. "I'm sorry, too. I wanted to work things out my way and when it all blew up in my face, I couldn't deal with it."

Michael reached out to Faith and she threw herself into his arms. "I'm sorry, Daddy."

"Me, too. You know, I wouldn't let Connor anywhere near you if I thought there was a chance he could hurt you."

Faith sniffled and buried her face against her father's chest. "Please don't say we can't see each other, Daddy. You'll make me do something I really don't want to do."

"You'd see him anyway, wouldn't you, Faith?"

"Yes," came the muffled reply. "I have to. I love him."

"I get that," Michael said softly, meeting his wife's eyes over Faith's head. "I really do."

Connor waited nervously for his father to arrive. It didn't take long. Afraid to sit down, Connor stood, his dark blue eyes troubled.

"Connor, I—"

"Yes, Dad?" He had never seen his father so angry before. To have all that rage directed at him made him cringe inside.

"Sit. Please." Neil sounded calmer, even if he didn't look it. Nevertheless, Connor sat on the edge of the chair, his entire body poised to move if he needed to.

"We never talked about your mother's death," Neil began.

Connor instantly popped up, ready to run. But Neil sighed. "Don't. Please…don't."

"You told me enough, Dad. I don't need to know any more. Really."

Neil continued as if Connor hadn't spoken. "I blame myself. I should have been there for you and Kady."

"You told us. That was all you needed to do, Dad. I swear." Connor was starting to tremble. His fingers felt cold. He clenched and unclenched his hands, as if somehow that could make him feel warmer.

"No. It wasn't. I had someone to comfort me. But you didn't."

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does. You were hurting and I didn't even see it."

"I'm not sure it would've helped, Dad. Faith tried to get me to talk about Mom, but I shut her out…and look at what happened." Connor swiped his arm across his eyes. "I fucked up," he whispered. "I'll never forget the look on her face when I—"

"You've never done anything like that before, Con. I was so stunned, I didn't know what to say."

"I deserved to get my ass kicked, Dad. I'm glad Chris knocked me out. But I wish he'd kicked a little harder," he said, unconsciously rubbing his bruised forehead.

"Con…there are a million things I could say right now, but you're beating yourself up better than I ever could."

Connor ducked his head in an attempt to hide the tears that he could no longer hold back. "I can never forgive myself for hurting her, Dad. *Never*."

"Then it'll never happen again, will it?" Neil asked quietly.

"No."

Neil nodded as if he was satisfied with Connor's attitude. "You're grounded for two weeks. You're not to see Faith except at school—" Connor started to protest, but his father overruled him. "Except at school, Connor."

Connor looked as miserable as Neil felt. Neil told himself that he wasn't going easy on Connor because of Madeline's death, but the truth was, he didn't want his son to suffer any more than he already was.

"You can call her after school," Neil added, pretending not to notice the joyful light that came back into Connor's midnight blue eyes.

"*If* Michael agrees."

"Thanks, Dad."

Neil almost excused Connor, but at the last moment, he changed his mind. "Your mom was sick, Con. Otherwise, she never could have hurt you the way she did."

"It's hard to forgive her, isn't it, Dad?"

"What do you mean, Con?"

"It's just—it's hard to feel bad that she's dead, y'know? I *want* to and I know I *should*, but the things she said and did to Kady make me so mad…"

"I know." Neil couldn't believe he was saying this, but in his own way, he needed Connor's confidence as much as his son needed his. "The last few years were difficult. She wasn't happy. I don't even know if she was capable of being happy. But she had no right to take it out on the two of you. It's my fault that she did, Connor. I should have been able to stop her."

As if he sensed that his father was close to breaking down, Connor hugged Neil with a fierce intensity heretofore reserved for Faith. "You're a good man, Daddy. You don't have to feel bad because Ned makes you happy. I'm glad he does."

"Con—"

"He loves you. More than she ever did. And so do I."

"I love you, too."

For the first time in a long while, they were able to talk to one another. Eventually, they wept in each other's arms.

But now they could heal. It was a true testament to the love they shared that they were finally able to overcome their differences and see how much alike they were.