“Now wai a minute, thars no wai you can drin like this,” the man said. “You goa be cheatin.” With a shot glass in hand he slammed it down on the table, then not long after that he slammed down on the floor, out like a light. There were a few people gathered around them in the bar, seemingly amazed a woman four feet tall could out drink a knuckle dragging construction worker. There were numerous shot glasses spread around the the old wooden table, and the dim lighting only added to the sedate atmosphere of the bar.

A few of the people patted Danica on the shoulder and laughed over the whole situation, then went back about their business. The bar was fairly busy this time of the day and reaching onto the table she collected the bet made between the two of them as the man's friends hauled him off. Of the two hundred dollar bills one of them was Danica's, the other the man's, although now both were hers. There had been a hint of truth to his statement about cheating. The drink they'd been consuming was Black Velvet whiskey.

Perhaps it was biochemistry or some other unknown factor, but Black Velvet never seemed to affect Danica very much. Even after drinking a little over 25% of the fifth she barely had a buzz. Thinking about it as the money was stuffed into her bra, biochemistry must have been the answer. All it took were two or three good chugs of ol' Jack black label and she was wasted. Although at the moment biochemistry was the last thing on Danica's mind. The bottle had been paid for in advance, bought from the bartender, and she took that as well, making it another spoil of her victory.

Before leaving she took another long chug, then replaced the top and stuffed it into her purse. Moving out onto the busy New York street she took a deep breath and leaned against the wall. The pain and anger were already starting to well up inside to the point they were becoming hard to contain. Today Danica would be forced to take the bus as there would be no more rides, now or in the future, and nearing a bench enclosed by glass and steel she took a seat. Continuing to think about what had happened this morning the pain only got worse.

Try as she might it was something that Danica couldn't force from her mind, and soon her breathing started to become rougher as tears rolled down her cheeks. It was everything she could do not to burst into tears right there on the bench.

New York was a sea of jackets. The unofficial uniform of early winter. Not yet were the overcoats broken out, but with the temperature never making it above the mid fifties, people were starting to feel the cold. The sun, filtering through the smog, did little to warm the chill.

Cafas, therefore, had his pink hair mostly under the equally pink hat Calley had knit him all those years ago. He still wasn't entirely acclimated to New York's climate. After the stable "never below fifty" climate of Sydney, the metal manipulator wasn't sure he would ever truly adjust.

Pulling his grey jacket slightly tighter around his bulky form the mutant scanned the crowd reflexively. He hadn't been calm since his walk in the woods with Isabel. There was just something about committing a murder that set him on edge. He rubbed his still scabbed knuckles under the light gloves he'd been wearing since the occasion. No visit to Doc Prof for those...

Back to hiding injuries from the good doctor. Everything changes and yet it stays exactly the same...

A familiar face caught his eye. His ribs, had they been able to, would have run and hidden. Something about ii was wrong though. Ah, the tears. A crying woman at a bus stop was hardly news in New York City, but Cafas couldn't ignore someone he knew crying.

Dani... Danica, yeah that's the one.

Knew was probably a strong word to use, but it didn't sit any better with him to let the woman cry alone.

His booted feet turned and carried him towards Danica with a hint of reluctance. Knowing Doc Prof could just heal his ribs up didn't make the risk of getting them broken any more pleasant. With only a blazer and thick T-shirt between Danica and his chest, he wouldn't be getting off so light if she attacked him.

Where's a good armored jacket when you need it?

He sat down next to her, jeans making a zipping sound as it slid over the ridged aluminium. Her breathing confirmed what the tears had suggested. "Hey, you alright? No, sorry that's obvious, let me try again." Cafas stood back up, then sat back down, shaking his head slightly at his own stupid question. "Hey, what's wrong mate?"

The word mate just didn't sound right to his ears, coming from his increasingly Americanized accent. Decreasingly Australian was probably a more accurate description after six years.

Not only was it getting cold outside, Danica had forgotten her jacket in the maelstrom of events that had taken place very recently, and with a lot of booze in her system, that only made it worse. There were tears, sniffling, and now shivering. Then to top it off someone sat down beside her and decided to strike up a conversation. The first thing to go through Danica's mind was bolt to the head, it was a bolt to the head kinda day for her, then something clicked mentally. It was the voice that had spoken, it sounded like an Australian accent only a bit weak, like it was becoming Americanized. There was only one person she knew that talked like that.

At first she tried to ignore the person she mentally referred to as either Pinky or 'that X-Dork'. After their brief encounter out behind her parents house, he young man wasn't very high on her list of people to see right now. There was a brief mental urge for bolt to the chest just to be spiteful, but that idea was quickly discarded. In recent times it would seem that Danica was developing something of a vicious streak, but it just wasn't there at the moment. She didn't have the mental or emotional strength for a confrontation right now. In truth all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and die.

"Hey, you alright? No, sorry that's obvious, let me try again." Cafas stood up and then sat back down again for some reason. "Hey, what's wrong mate?"

“Nothing's wrong, can't a woman just cry because she wants to!” Danica said, standing up on the bench she faced Cafas and pointed a finger in his face. “Not that it's any of you're damn business! What's wrong, what's wrong? How can you ask me that after the other night?!” Things were reaching the point that Danica could handle the pressure anymore and wanting to get as far away from everything as possible she jumped down off the bench and started to walk down the street double time. The last thing Danica wanted to do was talk to anyone right now, especially Cafas.

There was a mental see-saw in effect, one part of her wanted to cut loose and unleash on everyone around. Why should the rest of the world get to be happy while she suffered, they should all suffer. Then there was a part of her that didn't want to hurt anyone. there was already enough hate, pain, and anger in the world, there was no reason to add to it. The mental divide was causing Danica as much stress as the atomic argument that went off this morning, and her mind was already beginning to feel fatigued from it all. this a doubt THE worst day of her life.

Cafas was left sitting at a bus stop blinking in confusion. The distinct smell of alcohol wafted from Danica's breath as she berated him, and followed behind her as she leaped off the bench and set off through the crowd. She seemed to be fuming in more ways than one. Cafas debated letting her go, but seeing as she was drunk in the early afternoon, and the alcohol smell was really making him need a drink, he decided she needed his help.

He stood and swiftly caught up on longer strides. Wherever they could in New York people avoided crazy seeming people, which helped, because it meant Danica was leaving a wake through the crowd. More than one person gave him an odd look for trying to catch up to her, and suddenly people were giving him the same wide berth they were giving Danica.

"While you may have been to one, this is not your party, so no, you may not cry just because you want to. And sure, it might not be my business, but I'm not in the habit of letting people I know cry alone." You'd think him being an X-man might have given that away somewhat. Thought he was still catching up on the fact he was a good person for himself. Maybe it wasn't so obvious after all

"Nor freeze, do you have a jacket in your bag? Come on, we should maybe go inside somewhere."

When Cafas pursued Danica and started to talk again, the words burned into her mind to the point she spun on a heel to face him. There was nothing but anger in her face and it looked like she was ready for Cafas vs Danica, round two. Both hands balled into fists she was even puffed up physically, not that this made her intimidating. At this point she was angry enough to go toe to toe in public and orange arcs of energy began to crackle over her clothing. If she knew this was in plain sight of the general public, it didn't seem to phase her at the moment.

“Fine, you wanna talk, let's talk! My life was already in shambles before you decided to go all cop on me other other night with Snow White, and cause a wonderful little scene out behind my parent's house,” Danica said, throwing her arms out, “Cops, meta bots, weirdos, the whole freakin' circus was in town, and guess what? Good ol' mom and dad found out their little girl was more of a freak than they realized. Now my own godd**n parents won't let me in the front door!”

With the mental dam finally giving way to the torrent of uncontrollable emotions in her mind, Danica's sniffling turned into downright sobbing and she took off running down a nearby alley. There were no punks, crooks, or bad guys to be found here, just a few doors leading into the back of restaurants and a some old dumpsters. For New York the alleyway was surprisingly clean, mind you that just meant far less garbage than normal as opposed to actually being clean. At the end was a t-junction that lead to two different streets. There Danica slumped down against the wall and took the fifth of whiskey out of an over sized purse. Popping the top she took another long drink.

In Danica's mind there was nothing of her life left. No job, no apartment, no Rodney, even her parents were gone. Following a second long drink it burned down her throat even worse than the last. Although not drunk at this point Danica most assuredly wasn't sober either. The buzz from the alcohol was acting as an emotional dampener so that the mental apocalypse was reduced to a mere world war three. Suicide wouldn't be that hard, Danica even tried once a few months back when being held by Sector Seven. The only thing stopping her from trying it again was not only the pain caused by her first attempt, but also knowing it was a mortal sin. According to her personal beliefs suicide was a one way ticket straight to hell.

The mental storm abated and there was a moment of calm as Danica stopped to take stock of her situation. Once a bright and talented young woman with a promising career, she looked around seeing nothing but a train wreck leaning against a wall with a bottle of whiskey in one hand. There was a part of her that was disgusted at the sight, another part that didn't care, one that didn't know what to do next, even the urge to lash out violently was screaming for attention amidst the myriad of voices in her head.

The orange energy coursing over the woman's body, and furious anger in her eyes, made Cafas pause. He remembered full well what that energy could do, and wasn't ready to be hit with it again. He couldn't dodge either, without it hitting a bystander. That was also an unacceptable scenario. The metal manipulator swallowed hard and braced to be hit.

What he got instead was a veritable cascade of words. He hadn't been quite so ready for that as he had thought. It was an awfully familiar situation. Not the robots and strange little girls, but getting kicked out. Danica took off at a run, and once again Cafas was left behind, trying to recover from the somewhat shocking reaction.

He followed down the alley uncertainly, trying to see where Danica had gone. He spotted her slumped against the wall at the end of the dingy backstreet. She had a bottle in hand, and seemed to be drinking from it like a fun-house mirror image of Cafas. He approached the woman cautiously, still braced for an attack.

"That wont help. Trust me." He indicated the bottle with a small movement of his chin and flick of his eyes. His tone wasn't accusatory, but sympathetic. The metal manipulator dropped into a deep crouch, not wanting to sit on the unwashed concrete. He blew air through pursed lips in way of a sigh.

"Seventeen." Cafas let the number hang in the silence, assuming he would receive a confused look. "That's when my parents made it exceedingly clear I wasn't welcome at home. I don't know whether they planned to kill me, or worse, hand me over to the government, I just know I refused to find out." He looked up from the ground and tried to meet Danica's eye. "Spent two years homeless in a hostile country. So, I kinda get where you are right now. At least in that regard."

Cafas offered a hand for the bottle, the look on his face making it clear he didn't intend on drinking from it, but rather stopping her from drinking from it. "Now, I can't tell you how to get your family back, but I can tell you where you can get a roof over your head, warm meals, a warm bed, and safety from mutant-haters, or just people that will... Well, people will take what they want if they think they can get away with it." The hand remained extended, almost suggesting he meant to trade the bottle for the information.

"That wont help. Trust me," Cafas said, kneeling down in front of her. Deep down Danica knew that he was right, alcohol wasn't the answer to her problems, nor was getting lost at the bottom of a bottle. The only thing she was really after at the moment was something to take the edge off the pain. For months she'd been grappling with this problem, isolated, alone, scared. Now the mental thunderstorm had started to calm into a rather deep depression at the realization of her circumstances. Danica truly was homeless, without money, family, or friends, unless she counted Cafas.

"Seventeen." Cafas said, the number drawing a curious expression from her. "That's when my parents made it exceedingly clear I wasn't welcome at home. I don't know whether they planned to kill me, or worse, hand me over to the government, I just know I refused to find out." The two looked at one another briefly. "Spent two years homeless in a hostile country. So, I kinda get where you are right now. At least in that regard."

The young man held out a hand for the bottle. "Now, I can't tell you how to get your family back, but I can tell you where you can get a roof over your head, warm meals, a warm bed, and safety from mutant-haters, or just people that will... Well, people will take what they want if they think they can get away with it.”

“Can barely get a buzz off this crap anyway,” Danica said, tossing the bottle into Cafas' waiting hand. “Now, since we're trading sob stories, here's mine. You're a mutant, you were born that way and the uninvited guest that ruined your life moved in at puberty like most I'm guessing.” Before continuing Danica looked away and braced herself to say what would come next. It wasn't something she liked to talk about, but it was something that needed to be talked about. She'd seen what keeping things like this bottled up could do to a person.

“You were born a mutant, destined to become what you are, I wasn't. I have a gene, but not like yours, mine's latent, or at least it was. About five months ago I was kidnapped outside my place of work, by who I don't know, I only ever heard a mention of something called Sector Seven. They took me to a metal cell with no windows. There I was questioned relentlessly, if I didn't answer, I was beaten, hell sometimes they would beat me just for fun. Do you have any idea what it's like to have three men beating you with metal batons, listening to the sound of your own bones breaking as you scream for them to stop.”

Danica's eyes glazed over as she seemed to be reliving the worst memories of her life. “Then came the experiments. They would strap me to a metal table and pump me full of drugs, things that made if feel like my insides were doused in gasoline and set on fire. Day in and day out for a month they tried to activate my latent gene, then those sons of bitches actually succeeded. I don't remember what happened after that, all I know is when I woke up the place was a crater in the ground and everyone was dead.... I hope to god I was the one who killed them, and my only regret is I can't do it again.”

She began to rock back and forth for a moment trying to force back the worst of the memories, then looked at Cafas. “I've yelled, screamed, and hollered at you, I even broke one of your ribs. So why in the hell would you want to help me?” Reaching up Danica tugged a lock of his hair gently. “Pinky.”

“You were born a mutant, destined to become what you are, I wasn't... Do you have any idea what it's like to have three men beating you with metal batons, listening to the sound of your own bones breaking as you scream for them to stop.”

"More of an idea than I'd like." The streets in Australia had seen a few unfortunate instances. To the drunk and drugged, homeless people just looked like good sport for a bashing. Learning to fight had not been optional out there. At least he hadn't been kidnapped and imprisoned. Somehow the fact the attacks were random made them better.

“Then came the experiments... I hope to god I was the one who killed them, and my only regret is I can't do it again.”

Danica's story was... Heavy. He really hadn't been expecting it to be so violent. As if being kidnapped wasn't bad enough, torture and scientific experimentation... It sounded like the camps. Or the Nazis. That people like that could exist in the world still sat very poorly with Cafas. Well, substantially less of them, if Danica's story was true.

“I've yelled, screamed, and hollered at you, I even broke one of your ribs. So why in the hell would you want to help me? Pinky."

Cafas shrugged, slinging what was left of the booze she'd given him in the vicinity of a dumpster. It hit the wall behind and rained down with the sound of glass on sheet metal. "I'm not sure who it would have to be for me to leave them in your situation, but it certainly isn't you. Anyway, what's a broken rib to a guy that knows a healer?" Cafas' serious tone shifted to one bubbling with laughter just under the surface. "My ex broke my arm by pushing me out a window, while DocProf was out of town no less. That was just a few long hours in ER before we started dating. I guess I just don't take bodily harm that seriously." Cafas smiled and offered Danica a hand.

"Come on, let's get you sorted with a roof for tonight. Believe it or not you have options. I'd recommend Xavier's, the mutant school. They did right be me when I got to New York. There's also the Sanctuary, if you'd prefer more privacy, at the price of it being a bit rougher." Which honestly wasn't doing the roughness justice. If Danica didn't mess with anyone like Isabel though, she should be fine. The Sanctuary seemed to have a lot less violence than one might expect.

"Come on, let's get you sorted with a roof for tonight. Believe it or not you have options. I'd recommend Xavier's, the mutant school. They did right be me when I got to New York. There's also the Sanctuary, if you'd prefer more privacy, at the price of it being a bit rougher." At this Danica arched a brow lightly, hearing that there was some sort mutant school. She was also relieved to know there as a place mutants could live in relative safety without constantly being attacked or harassed simply for who and what they were. She was also surprised by how kind Cafas was being, after her new state of existence it wasn't something she was used to.

For the first time since becoming a mutant, since those dark clouds hung over her life, there finally seemed to be a break in the cover as a ray of sunshine shone through. Danica was still scared, confused, and upset, but taking a moment to pull herself together the young woman realized this was something that couldn't simply be 'dealt' with. This was a problem she would have to take one day at a time and solve each situation as it arose. There was also another first that took place as well. Danica knew that she wouldn't be able to do all of this alone, help would be needed. To that end she stood up, dusted herself off and took a deep breath, trying to collect her mind, and what shreds of dignity that still remained.

Slightly embarrassed by everything that happened she looked over at Cafas, “This whole crying drunk in the alley bit... never happened.” Taking a moment to further straighten her clothes Danica held her chin up defiantly and walked toward the end of the alley. Still something of a victim of her own moods swings, this one turned out to not be as bad as some of the others. Now in a slightly cheerful mood at the prospect of life not always dumping on her, Danica waited for Cafas to walk up next to her. With a bit of a smile she playfully nudged him with a shoulder.

”Hey, if you still got that bike you want me to ride on your lap?” Danica said.

Cafas retracted the hand and straightened up as Danica rose under her own power. He'd have likely done the same thing if the roles were reversed. Admitting you needed help was hard enough without accepting help you didn't need. The dusting off was well warranted given the state of the pavement in the alley.

“This whole crying drunk in the alley bit... never happened.”

He'd been in the same spot too many times to deny that request. "No idea what you mean, we took this alley as a shortcut." Cafas wrestled a cringe back into his face, not letting it escape. Shortcut was a legitimate word and just because it contained the word short, didn't make it insensitive. He'd convinced himself by the time he caught up with Danica.

”Hey, if you still got that bike you want me to ride on your lap?”

"Phrasing..." Cafas chortled, because under all the muscle, behind the trauma, was a guy who couldn't help but laugh at a double entendre. Recently it had been finding its way back to the surface. The shoulder nudge in the waist didn't help him maintain composure either. "But sure, why not. I swear though, ever since I got the pillion backrest, nobody has wanted to use it." Maya flat out refused to do anything but hug him.

Oh, boo hoo, my girlfriend loves to hug me, my life is so hard...

Speaking of the bike, where the heck had he parked? The metal manipulator cast an inquiring eye up the street. He thought he remembered parking somewhere off to the right as they came out of the alley, so he began moving that way. Finding a motorcycle parked in NYC was always difficult. With such limited space, you always seemed to find it nearly crushed between two much larger vehicles. If you were lucky, you could mount it before pushing it into the flow of traffic.

Unusually quiet Danica followed her new friend keeping an eye out for the bike. The first time the two met she'd not paid much attention to the make and color of the vehicle that Cafas was driving, in light of the situation that was unfolding. But a vague image remained in the back of her mind. After a moment she noticed a small but attractive bike literally sandwiched between two vehicles. Danica smacked him in the leg gently and pointed on the direction of the only visible thing that even came close to the image she had in mind. “Want me to get a can opener?” Danica said.

She waited for Cafas to get everything situated before approaching, then looked everything over carefully. This would be a new experience for the Danica as she'd never been on a bike before. The idea was somewhat exciting as she thought about tearing down the road with the wind whipping through her hair. The more Danica thought about it, the more appealing the idea became, and her spirits were finally beginning to lift. Earlier today at the bus stop the only thing she could see in the future was doom and gloom, now it appeared there might actually be a future in store that didn't involve homelessness and begging.

Once Cafas was on the motorcycle, she climbed up in front of him, with a little help. Danica also wasn't kidding about sitting in his lap. Making sure her hair, which came to the small of the back, was inside the back of her jacket to avoid whipping around, the little woman wiggled around for a moment. It had been so long since Danica had felt good about herself and the situation, she decided to enjoy this high while it lasted. Despite being in the alley for a few minutes there was still a hint of perfume and deodorant about her. Once they were both positioned on the bike Danica leaned her body against Cafas and looked up with a smile. “Ready yet?”

“Want me to get a can opener?”

It would likely be easier. Cafas sighed and tossed up the price of the vehicles either side of the bike. He'd done the same calculation so many times, he wasn't entirely certain why he still bothered. He always came to the conclusion that the money would serve a better purpose than getting his bike out from between vehicles. He approached and appraised the situation. He was going to have to lift the damn thing out, the handlebars were too wide to fit past the two vehicles either side of it.

Muscles and power flexed as Cafas lifted the vehicle up and out of the jam it was in. He left a small tire scuff on one of the cars either side of him, but he felt that was just desserts. Taking his hand off the engine Cafas placed the bike onto the sidewalk, to the irate glares of passing pedestrians. Cafas' helmet was removed from the rear helmet lock, the bike's key slid in, turned. The metal manipulator and swung a leg over and nodded to Danica. She'd have to do without a helmet, which didn't sit amazingly with Cafas, but it was just what the situation demanded.

He did his best to ignore the wiggling, directly in his lap. He wasn't overly practiced at it in the context, but he'd had to ignore more than enough of it at clubs and bars and events. He ignored the perfumed scent reaching his nostrils too, because he was a taken man, and that was that.

“Ready yet?”

"Born ready, mate." Cafas pushed his thumb into the horn button on his handbar. A hole appeared and he wasted no time as the bike roared to life under him. The bike jumped off the curb sideways, sliding into a gap in the traffic as he merged to a chorus of horns. He zipped between lanes of traffic, stopping only for red lights. He was driving like he drove with only himself on the bike, and his concern for his own life aught to be obvious as an X-man. It wasn't that Danica was unimportant in his mind, but he got the sense that she needed the rush as badly as he did.

It was short minutes, far shorter than the speed limit should have allowed, that the Mansion gates slide open in front of his bike. He had the encrypted code for the gate and garage installed on his bike. One push of a button was all it had taken. His driving among the mansion students and residents was much more conservative. He really didn't want to risk hitting one of them. They rolled to a stop in the concrete and steel structure of the mansion's garage, the door sliding shut behind them. The engine's roar died as the key was removed from the ignition. "Welcome to the Mansion."

The ride through the city was a fun one, Danica feeling the wind in her hair as they rode, watching the buildings of glass and steel fade to rolling country meadows as they moved out of the city proper. The feeling was exhilarating and for a time it allowed her to forget any problems. However like any ride, it eventually came to an end. The other thing that Danica picked up on was Cafas' lack of reciprocation to her flirting. It meant that he either wasn't interested, or taken, either way she refrained from any further teasing. As the two drove onto the mansion grounds and the bike came to a stop, Danica's attitude visibly changed.

She ad caught glimpses of other people, people who unlike her, had visible mutations. Horns, odd skin colors, wings, claws, it was quite a sight to see even for a moment. While many might think that such a sight would give Danica comfort, it didn't. Seeing other people that were visibly different finally drove home that her old life was over. Everything that Danica had known and grown accustomed to was gone, she felt alone, adrift, without direction or purpose.

Walking out of the garage she didn't immediately start moving through the grounds, instead Danica watched all the people walking about, those who could hide their mutations, and those who couldn't. It was uncomfortable and unsettling for the woman. Rather than being happy to see other mutants, Danica was almost in tears. It took a lot of self control for her not to break down as the reality of the situation set in. The only thing she wanted to do was pretend this was all a bad dream and return to a normal life, yet that was no longer possible.

Almost hugging herself Danica looked around, “So, is this where they hide all the monsters parents warn their children about?” the question was directed as much at herself as anyone else.

Cafas rushed through his post-ride checklist, hanging his helmet, pocketing his keys, a quick once over for any damage, that sort of thing. It gave Danica time to move off without him a short distance. When he caught up, even Cafas could tell she was almost distraught.

“So, is this where they hide all the monsters parents warn their children about?”

"In my experience, this is where we keep the children who should have been warned about the monsters within their parents." Cafas' lips pursed and rolled in slightly, his brow creasing in a sad frown. His eyes passed over kids, teens, and the odd adult, going about their days as best they could. "We're an island of safety, constantly besieged, but for now unbroken." He spoke to the air as much as Danica, thinking aloud just to get it out of his head.

An instinct to comfort and protect carried his hand to Danica's back. "Come on, we can get you all signed in, unless you've changed your mind?" People sometimes did that, often unprepared for the Mansion's mutant density. It could still be jarring for Cafas, even after his years living there.

You just don't see that many mutants walking around publicly...

He applied a gentle pressure to guide Danica inside, towards the offices. Even if she wasn't going to sign in and become a Mansion resident, it would still do them both some good to get out of the weather.

At first Danica was intimidated by the sight of all the mutants walking around, it was a lot to take in all at once. Some of the people here looked normal, others look different, and somewhere outright frightening at first. However despite being a complete and total mental train wreck there was still some fortitude to the small woman. Steeling herself, Danica walked with Cafas in the direction indicated. Once her fear was under control curiosity started to take over.

"So how long have you lived here?" Danica said. Once the shock of seeing all mutants wore off, Danica focused her attention on the mansion. It looked quite expensive, and if there was one thing she liked it was money. Though Danica always kept things above board, she was always interested in money. If it was legal in involved making money she was interested.

"Wow, how much do you think a place like this costs?" Danica said. There was a lot going through her mind at the moment, and more than anything she was just trying to stay focused on something. Walking through the front door delicate took a moment to look around. The mansion was beautiful and she was quite fascinated by it.

It was still hard for Danica to deal with everything that was going on, however focusing on the matter at hand and shutting everything else out seemed to help. At the same time Danica was also extremely grateful that someone was there in her darkest hour. Taking a moment she turned around to face Cafas, and gave him a small hug.

"Thank you for all your help," Danica said, then turned around to look at the mansion again. "Now I don't suppose the fat cat that runs this whole operation needs a secretary do they?"