It was a long week. Even with Summer vacation lightening his load as a teacher, Nate had plenty on his plate to occupy him. Art was even taking a backseat with the mess Haven was dealing with, working to systematically take down an anti-mutant criminal organization. With everything he was helping Devon deal with, it was almost easy to overlook the very real fact that reality had a hole in it.

Haven did allocate resources to the Rip because it was a world-changing event. Volunteers were assisting in the process of safely getting people through the Rip in an orderly, controlled manner, and the organization was looking to be a resource to people in need—particularly mutants—who were arriving from the other end. It was disappointing to hear the state of mutant rights in the other world, but it did give Haven the chance to prove themselves as a beacon in their community and all mutant communities.

Nate was keeping his distance from the Rip. It was not an act of fear; he could take care of himself in any world as long as he had access to his powers and his wits. The idea of a parallel world was unsettling. Reports were coming in confirming “alternate versions” of people on both sides. It was intriguing to some, but Nate had no desire to seek out the alternate Nate, or Stephen if he never changed his name. Life was a series of choices, and there was nothing less productive than spinning tires regretting old choices. Yes, he spent time wondering where his life might have been if he had not met Quin or if they had never broken up, but he did not need to meet the man he became if either of those things did not happen. He could only hope Stephen or Nate or whoever he was would feel the same, because Rippers were all over the city.

The ex-con was unwinding at an upscale bar, hoping to take his mind off the crazy state of affairs in his life. He swirled the ice in his scotch, wondering how many of the bar’s patrons were Rip tourists that night. He had nothing against the other-worlders, truthfully. They had made New York a more exciting, busier place, which was hard to accomplish in the largest city in America.

Nate’s musing was interrupted as the stool next to him at the bar was pulled back and occupied by an attractive brunette. She brushed her hair behind her ear, content with waiting patiently for the bartender to come around. She sighed before turning to notice Nate for the first time. She smiled and he returned the gesture. Her eyes were striking; a shade of blue-grey he was used to seeing only in his daughter’s eyes and his own reflection.

”Long day?”

”Yep. Just stole a priceless painting,” she answered, matching Nate’s Southern accent. ”You?”

Nate shrugged. ”Nothing so exciting. Just entrenching myself in a criminal turf war.”

They both nodded solemnly for a moment before their serious expressions cracked into grins. They both laughed at what were clearly absurd and in no way truthful statements. Nate offered the newcomer a hand in greeting. ”I’m Nate.”

”It’s a pleasure,” she answered, taking his hand and offering a warm smile. ”I’m Stephanie.”

Stephanie was not sleeping well. Something about bearing the death of an innocent young dancer on her soul kept rest out of her reach. She never tricked herself into believing she was a “good” person; most of her life was spent procuring arts and riches at the expense of others. When she was working for herself, she had lines she was not going to cross. It was possible she took one life when she was still a teenager, but the man who assaulted her was by no means an “innocent.” Madison Potts made some questionable life choices, but nothing she deserved to lose her life over.

Poseidon forced Stephanie to take a life for political gain and the task was weighing on her weeks later. Even Malia could tell her mother was not entirely okay. When she asked if something was making her sad lately, it was all she could do to keep tears from filling her eyes. Stephanie explained that she was just tired and Malia should not need to worry about her mother. With the innocence and naivety of a child, Malia trusted her mother would not lie to her.

That was why Steph needed nights out to herself. She was losing sleep and she felt undeserving of her daughter’s love and respect. She doubted the new world was “outside of Poseidon’s reach,” but it felt like a temporary escape from her life.

And so, she found herself nursing a cosmopolitan when an attractive man with a southern accent made a play for her attention at the bar. Stephanie was there to keep herself occupied in solitude, but the man showed the preliminary signs of a sense of humor. He did not even question Stephanie’s very real admission of the art theft she committed hours earlier. What was the harm in striking up a conversation?

”Sounds like we both came pretty far to cross paths in some New York bar. Been here long?”

Stephanie shrugged, taking a sip of her drink. ”To this New York, sure. Otherwise, I’ve been a city girl for about six years now.”

Nate’s eyebrow arched, but realization led to a charming grin. ”A Ripper, huh? I guess the other side isn’t all bad.”

”Oh, don’t let me trick you. It’s terrible,” Stephanie joked. She was still learning about the world she was visiting, but none of her research turned up the name Poseidon. As far as she was concerned, that made Nate’s world the superior reality. ”There has to be a reason I’m defying the laws of time and space to grab a cocktail, right?”

They both shared a laugh, but Nate was quick with an answer. ”Well, I heard they’ve started approving visas. You’ve already gone South to North; can’t imagine swapping universes would be much crazier than that.” He raised his glass, meeting her grey eyes with his own and offering an enticing smile. ”This place could use a little more down home.”

The idea had its own appeal. She was not naïve enough to think Poseidon would lose track of her on the other side, but it would feel nice to go to sleep at night with a rip in space between them. And if the rift ever closed, and she found herself on the other side… well, the idea was tempting, particularly off the tongue of a handsome guy at the bar. ”I’ve given it some thought. But everyone tells me to be careful with the men on this side.” Her last words left a mischievous smirk on her painted lips.

All Nate could do was chuckle and raise his drink to his lips. ”Good advice.”

Stephanie took a sip of her cocktail, regarding Nate carefully. He was attractive enough and so far, he was proving to be a clever conversationalist. She was on the other side of the Rip to take her mind off things and he had the potential to distract her. Worst case scenario, it would still likely be better than drinking alone. ”So what do you do, Nate? What brought a country boy like you to the city.”

The moniker made Nate laugh. ”I don’t know about country boy. I spent so much of my life traveling, I think all I have left is the accent. I’m still not sure what brought me here exactly, but I teach art these days alongside some humanitarian efforts I work with.”

Steph could relate to a life on the road, though likely for different reasons than her drinking companion. ”Likewise, I did my own bit of soul-searching and ended up settling down in New York. Though I guess my work in photography isn’t quite so noble.” Stephanie doubted she had the patience to deal with children who were not her own and her current employer was far from a “humanitarian.”

”Oh, definitely don’t call me noble,” he joked. ”I have a long way to go for that. But I have a little girl of my own now, so I have to make some attempt to straighten my life out.”

The thought stung Stephanie, because she felt like her life was spiraling out of her control and allowing her morals to be warped along the way. She had to hold firm and remember her decisions were made to keep Malia safe. If she could not be a better person for the girl’s sake, she would sacrifice herself to give Malia a chance. ”We have to do what we can for them, always, right?”

Nate smiled, appreciating the sentiment. He raised his glass. ”Cheers to that.” He took a sip of his drink before the paternal side of him overwhelmed the flirtatious side of him. ”Honestly, I’m just getting back into my daughter’s life. Didn’t even realize I had a daughter til this year. I’m just trying not to screw up.”

Stephanie shrugged, but offered an empathetic look. ”Oh, you will,” she assured him, before adding, ”But that’s alright; we all do.” They shared a smile, feeling a sense of camaraderie as parents trying to do right by their kids.

”So… any pictures?”