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"I just want to be able to go out for a night and not worry that the baby's going to turn the babysitter into a nighttime snack!" These are the sort of topics of discussion in the Faretti household these days. To be fair, little Jack Jr. was still a long way from being able to drain a whole human accidentally but Taylor was starting to grow worried for his little cousins. It was a long term view, really, but it didn't make her less adamant. After exhausting a few avenues of contacts, she'd remembered Claremont and after some spousal debate, a rather odd notice when up on the summer job board at the school: Babysitter wanted for occasional afternoons and weekends. Combat reflexes a plus. Will pay for infant cpr certification. Hazard pay provided. There was a number at the bottom to tear away and when Taylor had received a few phone calls, she arranged for interviews to occur in one of the empty classrooms. When each student arrived they'd see two chairs behind the desk but only one of them filled. Taylor was casually dressed in a tank top and jeans over boots. A battered jacket and fedora discarded in one corner and the only real oddity in her appearance the glittering amulet at her throat.

January swept in cold and dreary, dumping patches of snow here and there, but not enough to be enjoyable or scenic, even three weeks into the new year. It had taken that long for Erin to get things set up for her interview with Phantom. Even after she'd worked up the nerve to set things in motion, the dimensional guardian had been indisposed for awhile, busy with other things, apparently. But eventually the stars had aligned, and Erin was hopefully going to lay to rest some of the questions Shadivan Steelegrave had raised, for all that it meant dealing with someone who made her distinctly uncomfortable. James had offered, more than once, to come along with on this trip, but Erin had turned him down. Not because she didn't appreciate the offer, but this wasn't the sort of thing she wanted an audience for, any audience. It seemed like it would be easier to talk about the Terminus and what it might have done to her world with an unsympathetic stranger than with a friend. That's how it had been before, anyway, the debriefings were easier than talking to the friendly psychologist. James gave her a ride anyway, dropping her off in a beautiful private library that smelled like leather and old books. Erin clasped her hands together behind her back and looked around, automatically gauging the security of the room before she did anything else.

The penthouse had always had more room than they'd needed. Even with one room serving as the bedroom, there was plenty of space for Jack's office and Taylor's library with more to spare. The room that Taylor had currently opened had mostly been used for storage. The furniture from Taylor's sparse apartment had been hastily stacked in one corner. Boxes of old text books were shoved up against them along with a little bit of extraneous clutter that always came out during any move. In addition, there were the few things of Jack's that had been misplaced or replaced by her permanent arrival into his home. It had been a gradual thing, really. They'd never sat down and talked about it. One night had just turned into three, then five, then forever somewhere along the line. And slowly, this room had filled up with the things that didn't fit into a newly shared life. Shutting the door behind her with a quiet click, Taylor stepped into the room on bare feet. With her dark hair pulled up into a tight pony tail and dressed in ripped jeans and a tank top, she'd dressed for a hands on cleaning that didn't really match the actuality. She moved through the room, moving things back and forth with crackling eldritch energy. Keep. Donate. Donate. Ask Jack. Keep. Eventually, everything that had to be donated had vanished into her pocket, and the things to keep or question had all been shoved out in the hallway and Taylor was left in a pleasant if empty room. Like many of the rooms of the apartment, the few windows had thick drapes blocking the sun. Eventually those would have to be replaced but for now, Taylor spent the few minutes wrestling them all down to the ground and shoved them out in the hallway as well. It wasn't as mindless a task as Taylor had hoped it would be. It certainly allowed her thoughts to wander and considering she was working on clearing the spare room for a new and rather unexpected occupant, it was inevitable what direction her thoughts would take. Like marriage, children were something Taylor assumed were off her plate after accepting her duties as the Chosen of Heshem. In the act of ripping the drape off the wall, Taylor paused to stifle a snort of self-mocking laughter. At least the addage of 'plans in the face of the gods' held true. Taylor wondered if Heshem was in stitches at her Chosen. It was an image she had trouble forming. With a thump the heavy velvet floated to the ground and with a flick of her wrist, Taylor sent it floating out to the hallway with the rest of the 'things to get moved'. She rested her fingertips on her hips and frowned at the bare four walls and floor. She couldn't picture the room as a nursery. She couldn't picture herself as anyone's mother. She was still getting used to the whole 'being someone's wife' part. There was still graduation in the spring. Technically, she hadn't even finished college yet. Ruthlessly, Taylor suppressed the rising tide of hysteria. Cream. She would paint the walls cream and then decide on the carpet. Even if it was all too big to tackle at once. She could do one little thing, and then another. No, it wasn't going to be *normal*, but they'd manage it all somehow. She could deal with it, and she would. One step at a time.

It was a gloomy day near the end of November when Mark decided to call Taylor Chun, having spent a long day at home in his father's study reading up on the City of Brass. Amid all the horrors and wonders of the demonic invasion earlier in the month, those taunting words from the demon in the graveyard had stuck with him. He knew perfectly well what the City of Brass was, of course, he'd been raised on stories of the place for much of his life. Azim-al-Aziz, his grandfather's friend and ally during the Second World War, had been a prince of the City of Brass, an efreet kidnapped by Nazi sorcery and held in their clutches before being rescued by the Liberty League. It was supposed to be a wonderful, magical place where the Arabian Nights had never ended, a place where a thousand wonders lay just beyond the veil. But he'd never visited there himself; his grandfather had passed on a warning that with the end of the Second World War, Azim-al-Aziz had encouraged his people to seal up their dimension to make sure they could never be taken against their will again. That also meant they didn't visit Earth much anymore. With the issue still nagging at him as he sat in his dorm room, Mark had decided to phone a friend. That's what friends were for, wasn't it? As his cell rang, the rain outside stopped. Maybe today was going to be a good day after all.

Halloween Night Erin looked out the window of her dorm room as the sky outside grew steadily darker, casting the lights of the city into sharp relief. From this side of the building, she wasn't going to see any Trick-or-Treaters, since her room faced the campus, but she could see the occasional student dressed in a costume and hurrying towards the main building for the party. She'd wondered if anyone would go in their practice uniform or hero costume, just to be a smartass, but so far she hadn't seen anyone sporting the blue and gold. It was going to be a cold night tonight, from the weather reports. Anyone going out for candy had better be dressed warmly. Turning away from the window, she went over to her bunk and sat down, picking up her bag of candy. She'd conscientiously poured half the mini candy bars into her emergency stash under the bed, but that left quite a bit of chocolate to be eaten. If she could get sick at all, she could get herself halfway there on candy without knocking on a single door, she reflected as she unwrapped and ate a Mr. Goodbar. But it was boring to do it that way. She was, in fact, entirely bored, and perilously close to getting lonely and feeling sorry for herself. If she let that happen, it would be hard to stop feeling that way. If it were any other night, she'd go and take the Chevette for another spin. That had been more than entertaining. Thinking about the car made her think about James, and his personal business. Why had he given her the keys, anyway? Was it just to cheer her up? She wouldn't put that past him, he was pretty sneaky. Or could he have been really worried about whatever business he was going on tonight? Whatever it was, he should be back by now, surely. Or maybe he hadn't left yet, if it was family business. Either way, it might be a good idea to talk to him again, and it would get her out of her room. Pocketing the car keys and rolling the bag of candy to take with her, Erin headed downstairs to James' room, keeping an eye out for nosy RAs. Surely they'd all be at the party by now.