The emotions which flared across Ghosts face could have been seen from across the room and to judge by the ambient snickering, the kitchens odd audience had apparently found some amusement in the Sylphs lack of composure, which of course only served to exacerbate the waifs mood leaving her in something of a strop as she stormed from the room.

The current vindictive streak in Zephyr's mind was more than glad to see the girl go. What right did she have to judge his actions? It was his life and his actions affected no one but himself yet she either couldn't grasp that fact or refused to accept it. He'd always known she was somewhat naive for her age but to be that damn blind? It didn't make sense.

Then again perhaps that was the root of the problem. Ghost only seemed interested in pointing out what she felt were his flaws and had stormed off the moment he'd disagreed with her and brought up the consequences of her own ill thought actions. The girl needed to spend a serious amount of time in front of a mirror before she accused anyone else of trying to pass blame.

"Don't blame Ghost."[/color]

Twisting his head to stare down at Katrina as she mumbled her way through another apology Zephyr remained silent. Although he'd managed to reign in his temper the elementals anger had by no means abated. His brush with death and subsequent kidnapping had robbed him of any sense of control and if there was one thing he hated it was being made to feel helpless. Being reminded of the young illusionists role in events was doing little to ameliorate his disposition.

It was tempting, oh so tempting to accept Katrina's offer and begin venting his anger again, however two things made him pause. One was the fact that the gamine was clearly struggling with her current ministrations and her thoughts were not entirely on the present; berating her would be like arguing with a brick wall. Secondly, the minor but frequent slips in her focus was enough for Zephyr to realize that he'd be in little position to do anything if Katrina stopped her efforts.

His indecision lasted long enough that Katrina was able to lean over and wrap her arms around him. At another time he would have greatly appreciated the gesture and easily returned it, now though he remained stock still, his arms by his side until he finally came to a decision, broking the girls embrace with a controlled movement and holding her just short of arms length as he spoke in a barely restrained tone.

"Don't get me started Katrina, just-"

A movement in the air caused the elemental to halt in mid sentence as his head snapped round to stare at the hand that had been about to land on his shoulder before flicking his gaze up to the face of a middle aged woman carrying an armful of clothes. "Can I help you?"

Seemingly unperturbed by the hessians biting tone the woman gave him a simple smile as she let her hand come to rest on shoulder. "My name Maggie dear and I think you'd best come with me."[/color] She nodded to a hallway off the kitchen before continuing to speak in an amiable tone that was less than genuine. "We'll see if we can find you something more decent to wear."

Glancing back to Katrina just once it took little for Zephyr to decide that it would likely be best for him to be elsewhere for a time. After telling the young gamine to stay where she was the elemental rose and braced himself for the absences of the petite illusionists efforts as he followed Maggie out of the kitchen.

She tried to understand it from his point of view. Really, she wanted to. Inevitably, without him there to explain his point of view, Ghost ended up only frustrating herself further. By the time she had flung herself up the stairs and toward the room that she had thought the office would be in, she managed actual anger.

Why were they even friends? Because their mutations were the same? Apparently that wasn't enough.

A male cleared his throat. Ghost had stormed into one of the current resident's rooms. From behind pink cheeks she asked for help to find a computer she could use.

And maybe he was right… maybe her head wasn't fully in the game. Maybe she took other people's good graces for granted. They did put up with her mistakes— her many, many, often embarrassing mistakes.

The laptop screen glowed bluish in a way that seemed sick compared to the last bits of daylight steaming in through the office window. Gary sat at a desktop with two monitors, merrily tip-tapping away. Technology seemed like a wonderful asset if used properly.

Ghost turned back to her blank browser window where the cursor blinked in the empty search field. She typed with her pointer fingers and watched the keys so that she wouldn't make a single typo.

"SIMON SMITH"

The search took about .17 seconds and resulted in over 21,800,000 results.

She hadn't expected a miraculous flashing GIF of an answer, but… that was a lot of internet to sort through.

Ghost tried adding in his birthday from the passport.

She tried typing out his actual passport number.

Eventually, after many other false starts, she tried "MISSING PERSON SIMON SMITH ENGLAND NEED INFORMATION"

This first result was for a furniture store named Simon who, as far as she could tell wasn't missing, but was running a clever ad campaign that seemed to have nothing to do with anything she'd typed in beyond the first name— it was a frustratingly common name.

Below that was a link that said "Click for local news reports." They were in England now, so she tried that.

Out of seven missing Simons only two were Smiths. Out of the two Simon Smiths that she found, only one listing looked helpful. Unfortunately, the written report on that particular missing Simon was too new. The passport was older than the article.

That left only one, useless looking scrap. It was a scan from a newspaper, not even an inch tall.

"Information on Simon Smith? Call:xxx-xxxx"

No year, no city, no mention on anything that might help. At all.

"What are you doing?"

The air elemental just about jumped out of her skin when Gary asked. She had been so focused that she'd forgotten he was still in the room.

"Nothing!" Was her knee-jerk response. Like she was caught in the act or something. "Ugh. Fine. I'm… meddling."

"Is that the best idea?"

"No. But he can't get any more mad at me at this point and if anyone is going to guilt him into being a respectable human being, maybe it'll be his mother!"

"Ghost, people's families… that's personal stuff. You might be losing a friend by poking around in the past."

She frowned, but nodded in a more serious way. "I know, it's just… I would rather have tried something." Ghost chewed her lip for a moment before motioning back toward the screen. "Besides, it might not even be his family anyway. Can I borrow your phone?"

---

The woman who answered passed the phone to a man. He seemed quite interested, especially since she had Simon's passport and he would be able to verify Simon's identity from a photo he might recognize before getting anyone's hopes up with a real, live person.

Ghost agreed to meet him at a coffee shop, a nice public place where it would be hard for either of them to get murdered by the other.

She took the passport and the gun with her. Ghost had taken the gun from Simon so it was her responsibility now. (She wasn't going to shoot anybody, she just didn't want anyone else to shoot anyone with a weapon she brought into the country.) The wig… she waffled about, but eventually she combed her fingers through the brown strands and pulled it back on. She needed the extra confidence.

Apparently it had only been her that needed a hug. Dio wouldn't hug her back. Even worse, he escaped, held her away, and used his harsh voice on her. At least, it sounded harsh to her.

She was not used to hugs not making everything better.

And then he wasn't in his chair for her to stare at anymore.

And then he wasn't even in the room any more.

Katrina scowled at the now empty chair. She blinked. She kind of wanted to storm out of the room herself, except now that everyone else had, there was no longer any point to it. Her head still felt fuzzy, still felt like it was stuck full of cotton that made her unable to really think or feel. There probably wasn't any point to it, if her patient had up and walked out on her anyway.

The little illusionist shook her head to clear it of the cobwebs and was reward with a sharp pain between the eyes. Apparently headaches were contagious today. She sat down in the now vacant seat, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers and wondering where all the aspirin had gotten to.

A million to one chance.

In a world with over seven billion people Alistair Smith knew such chances were far more common than one might expect. Still the thought of being on the receiving end of such odds left him feeling both expectant and incredulous.

His son had been declared legally dead a little over five years ago, however a body had never been found, and given that he knew the boy shared at least some of his late mothers gift Alistair had known the possibility was there. He'd initially spent thousands searching for any trace of the lad, but as year after year had gone by without word, he'd... well, he'd given up. All that remained of his efforts was a short, simple, advert in the London Times asking about the boy, and that was more for his mother-... for Meredith's memory, than anything else.

Both the good, and the bad.


Shaking himself from his reverie Alistair forced his thoughts back to the present as he glanced up from his coffee and scanned his surroundings once more, for what little good it did him. London at midday was one of the most hectic places on earth and even he couldn't keep track of the comings and goings of all the thousands walking the streets.

Still, that was part of the reason he'd chosen this particular venue. It was one of his many pet projects; a little visited, modestly sized, coffee shop located along the Strand just a short distance from Trafalgar square. It was a small venture compared to his other endeavors and earned nearly nothing in terms of revenue despite its ideal location. However profit had never been the shops true purpose, and so he happily paid for its losses year after year.

There was something reassuring about owning an establishment comprised purely of very versatile and deeply grateful mutants, who would otherwise be without a job, just a short walk from your own corporate headquarters. It had certainly paid dividends during the recent riots, Ryleigh Inc had been one of the few business which had avoided any and all damage from the looting and general destruction. In fact it had been one of the few entities to make a profit that quarter. A fact which had kept him in good spirits for nearly a month.

Until someone had called asking about his son.

The CEO of Ryleigh drummed his fingers on the table in an impatient manner before sighing irritably. He'd been waiting over twenty minutes for this 'Maya' to arrive but apparently the woman had little concept of punctuality. He'd given her precise directions to the store and told her when and where he'd be there himself. His slate grey Armani suit was a stark contrast to the few others who lingered around the tables and so he doubted there was any chance he'd be missed and so his patience was wearing thin.

Whoever this Maya was, she had best arrive soon.

She had planned to ghost herself to the coffee shop. That plan changed when Ghost walked through the kitchen and a young, blonde friend of hers suggested that she wear a coat.

A coat was probably the best idea Katrina had all day. That would hide the gun without issue and, now that she was thinking about it, the clothes she had chosen to wear in order to steal from Zephyr. Ghost couldn't say no when Katrina asked to come along, after all, Kat was on her side in this. They both wanted to meet Sara, Katrina's lookalike and more than anything, they both wanted to help their friend.

A quick inhale and the pair were on their way. Though, navigating strange streets without being able to read the street signs made things a bit tricky. Ideally, Ghost would have memorized a map before taking off, the most she had managed was a good look. She got them in the general area, but it ended up being a several block walk to the shop. A several block walk that would make them late.

"I didn't know you were coming so I didn't warn the guy. I doubt he'll be threatened by us, but if it's really Zephyr... errr, Simon's dad, I don't want to spook him away." Ghost wasn't exactly sure what she was asking of Katrina. Should they pretend to not be together? Or would it be best to have Kat as back up of some kind? She didn't know what to think, really. They could be doing this man a big service, reuniting him with his son. Or it could all be a false alarm anyway.

Ghost opened the door for Katrina and tucked a long, brown strand behind her ear. She missed long hair. Maybe she would grow it out again, now that it was all a uniform color.

She spotted him immediately and a flutter of nerves ran up her esophagus. Did his features look familiar like Zephyr's or was she trying to force the recognition?

"Mister Smith?" Maya approached him with an outstretched arm ready for a good firm handshake. If she thought about this like a business transaction, that helped for some reason. "I'm Maya Csendes. We spoke on the phone?" She pulled the passport out of her coat pocket. No reason to delay. "I'd like to know if this is your son." She passed the burgundy fold of official paperwork over with both hands. It was an important document that deserved respect.

Ghosting was not something easy to get used to. A little squeeze, a loss of senses, a grey breezy fog, and then they were standing on a different street corner. It was almost like teleporting, except much slower. This time she didn't acquire any aviator goggles. Just a bit of a headache.

A few blocks and several minutes later, they arrived at the appropriate address. It was a coffee shop called The Underground. Like all coffee shops, it smelled delicious. Such a misleading smell, since actual coffee tasted so horrible. Ick and double ick.

Unlike other coffee shops, this one had a middle aged Dio sitting at one of the tables. It wasn't so much his looks that were so similar, though he did match the air elemental's coloring, it was more the expression of impatience on his face and the way he drummed his fingers on the table. It seemed like something her Dio would do.

While Ghost carefully handed over the passport to the old gentleman, Katrina slipped out from behind her and slid into the chair adjacent to the impatient business man.

“Hi!” She said cheerfully.

The past was something to learn from, not hold on too.

It was an axiom Alistair had tried, and largely succeeded, to live by for the past two decades. Sentiment and tradition were all well and good but, as he'd found after losing Meredith, became more of a hindrance than anything else as time moved on. The past couldn't be changed, or rather, it shouldn't be changed. Doing so would amount to nothing more than a new form murder, for what was man if not the sum of his experiences?

More to the point, if things could be changed, what guarantee was there that they would turn out for the better? No, he'd long since come to an uneasy peace with his past and moved on from it. Granted, he wasn't without regrets, but he'd learned from his mistakes and made his life a damn sight better than it would have been otherwise. It wasn't perfect by any means, but it was his and he was, for the most part, proud of it.

"Mister Smith?..."[/color]

Still, that didn't make things any easier when he found himself being approached by the mirror image of the biggest regret of his life. For the briefest moment he'd actually thought it was her, the resemblance was that close; everything from the hair to the build, even the way in which she walked was an echo of the woman he'd known.

On second glance though there were subtle differences, the neck was slightly shorter than he recalled and the girls posture, while graceful, was hesitant, almost timid. The greatest source of dissonance however was the eyes. They were far too light, almost a different color entirely, and as she got closer Alistair could she was far paler than the lighting suggested, almost as if someone had bleached the life from her skin.

It was like looking at ghost.

If there was one thing he'd learned in life however it was the value of composure, and so he kept his features set in stone as he continued to compare the girl before to the woman he'd both loved, and hated. When the passport was offered the azure eyed CEO barely glanced at it, as he continued to catalog the differences between his memory and apparition before him in an effort to restrain his initial shock.

Then he was presented with a doppelganger of his own daughter.

One of them would have been coincidence, even one after the other he might have passed without comment. Together however was clearly more than mere happenstance, something else was at play but for the life of him Alistair couldn't tell what it might be. Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained, he took the passport and flipped it open to an image of his son he'd not seen in several years, yet still managed to drag up less than pleasant memories.

He sighed and then gestured to a young black haired barista behind the coffee bar who abruptly faded into the floor before turning back to the two girls. "Why don't the two of you take a seat,"[/color] he began slowly as the same barista appeared beside the table, "and tell me precisely what's going on."

"Would you like anything to drink?" [/color]

"No... thank you." To the barista about the drink. The fading into the floor trick was neat, but she was too confused about everything. She actually might have enjoyed a hot chocolate, but how could she explain what was happening when she didn't know herself?

"I knew it was a long shot." Maya looked around for a seat and found a cushioned chair where she perched uneasily on the edge. "Is Simon not your son? You don't have a daughter named Sara about Katrina's age?" Maya motioned to the 15 year old blonde in the chair nearest Mr. Smith and finished the movement by tucking the wig hair behind her ear.

Ah well, now she didn't have to tell Zephyr what she had been up to.

"I'm so sorry to have bothered you. We were hoping to find his family so that they could talk some sense into him." She held out her hand for the passport back.

Katrina sighed and held her chin in her hands.

“You have to be Dio's dad. You look just like him, except older and less scrawny. Maybe a little handsomer, too.” But then, she might just be prejudiced against thinking that someone so close to being her brother might be good looking.

“Oh, and I'm Katrina. And this is Maya. We're friends of Simon's. Also, I kind of hoped to meet Sarah, because he keeps telling me I look like her, and I wanted to know if it was really true.”

She didn't mind not having anything to drink. She was a little too hyped up, thinking that they might be close to discovery. Ghost sounded like she wasn't so sure, but he hadn't said “no” he'd asked a question. That's exactly what Dio would do, too. Katrina was still hopeful.

Aged azure eyes watched carefully as the pale young woman took a tentative seat and declined a drink. She tired, or perhaps, simply spent. The girl almost seemed to deflate when Alistair failed to immediately confirm her suspicions and her expression became an amalgamation of disappointment, resignation and possibly bewilderment. It was a look Alistair had seen many times in the past and experience had taught him it rarely boded well.

On someone with Meredith's features it became more worrying still.

"Two hot chocolates if you could Ben."[/color] He asked and from the corner of his eyes he saw the dark haired barista nod and sink back into the floor. The CEO then turned his attention back to the girl before him.

The drinks would ideally serve a dual purpose; firstly they'd hopefully bring some form of colour to Ms. Csendes pale skin; the woman really was too pale to be healthy. Secondly the drinks would let the girls stay for a little longer and get comfortable enough to properly explain themselves. Admittedly hot chocolate wasn't the perfect drink for the situation but the younger blonde clearly wasn't old enough for alcohol and so he'd simply have to make do.

Speaking of the young blonde, it seemed she took after Sarah in more than just looks when she leapt right into the conversation without invitation or tact and gave an opinion which was practically an accusation before then backtracking and properly introducing herself and her chaperone.

He regarded both girls quietly for a moment, pointedly ignoring Maya's waiting hand as he forcefully reminding himself that they were not who they appeared to be before finally speaking. "Unless my memory has started to fail me I don't believe I ever said I wasn't his father. I asked for an explanation, and I rather think I'm entitled to one."[/color]

He paused briefly as the two drinks arrived in record time and were set down.

"That being said, I'm in no particular rush, so please, take your time."[/color]

Where Ghost had been feeling discouraged before, now she was just downright confused. Though, if anyone had a father like this, it would be Zephyr. He had to learn to dislike giving direct answers from someone, right?

She sat back onto the edge of her chair and glanced at Katrina. They were okay. Hot chocolate was okay. This could still be okay. He wanted the whole story so she was going to give it to him straight. Maybe not while looking him in the eye, but she could at least tell the story to the hands that twisted in her lap.

Ghost took a moment to compose herself and erect a dual walled bubble around the three chairs. The vacuum seal between the walls of the invisible structure meant that the barista's clanking and the store's music faded away. Also, it guaranteed that Simon's story wouldn't go beyond the flimsy walls. It made the moment feel important, like in movies when they turn off the soundtrack to emphasize a point.

"I first met Simon in New York's Central Park. We are both air elementals and it was kite flying season. I can't remember who found who, but someone was bending the floes of air unnaturally to keep the kites from diving." Now that she'd said it, it was pretty obvious that she must have been the one keeping the kites up while he wrestled her power in order to dash them against the ground.

"Ever since, we've been helping each other grow our abilities. Only, Ze- Simon has an ability that I do not." That would be the aerial vision while in a solid form. Hers was limited to her incorporeal state where she had no capacity for pain. "And it has been causing him pain to the point where, I'm afraid, that he's abusing his medication to a dangerous level." She felt like a tattle tale, telling this estranged father or possible stranger about her concerns over a friend.

"It was a happy accident that we ended up in the country where his family lives. And longer odds still that we might have actually found that family." Again Ghost found herself glancing at Katrina before looking into the man's eyes. A request that was made from the heart deserved good, solid eye contact. "I would appreciate it if you could persuade Sara or perhaps his mother to talk with him. I don't think he would listen, but still it might mean… something."

Their hot chocolates arrived, the barista barreled through the insubstantial barrier with a twinge like stepping through a cobweb. Pop. Sound came washing back.

Their privacy dispelled, Ghost felt that she had said quite enough. Also, an intricate barrier like the sound proof bubble trick took more concentration and strength while solid. That was one of Zephyr's tricks that she still needed more stamina training to master. Ghost clung to her mug for warmth. It was hot enough that she actually felt it, which meant it was still too hot to drink.

Illusions of privacy or not, Zephyr was going to kill her either way.

Ha! She knew it. Not that he had actually admitted it, but he had admitted that he hadn't admitted it, which was almost as good.

Ghosty did something with the air that made it sound like they were in their own private world where not even sound could get in. Zephyr had done the same thing earlier today, so those two must learn tricks from each other. It was a little like an illusion of silence, except they could target whomever they wanted. If she were to try an approximation she'd either have to have one person hear the nothingness or everyone in the coffee shop, which wasn't very conducive to conversation.

The barista arrived with hot chocolates, which Katrina approved of with a big smile for both the man who brought the beverage and the man who had ordered it.

Now it was Katrina's turn to talk. “I first met him when we were both taking refuge from the mutant registration act. I thought he was someone else and I shot him with a dart gun. He thought I was his sister at first. Ever since then, he's been just like an annoying older brother. Also, the medicine thing. I'm worried about his headaches being so bad, too. And his too-much-medicine. Maybe you could talk to him? Or his real sister could?”

Katrina sipped her hot chocolate and burned her tongue. She gasped, “Hot!”

Leaning back in his seat with a pensive expression Alistair idly drummed his fingers against the table top as he considered the two stories he’d heard. The girls were not raconteuse by any means, Ms. Csendes in particular had been somewhat difficult to discern as she seemed more intent on mumbling into her lap than in recounting the events themselves. Still, the greying CEO felt that he had a copacetic, if incomplete picture, of what had transpired since his son had apparently made his way abroad.

That did not mean he was entirely satisfied with the gamines had told him. Their accounts had raised a good number of questions which they had avoided either through inattention or a deliberate intent to cozen him. Given what he’d seen thus far he found the latter to be rather unlikely, conversely though their inattention, or some might say, ignorance, showed a considerable lack of forethought.

After all, how exactly did one accidentally find themselves crossing an ocean into another country?

Firstly however, there was one particular issue which needed to be addressed before it could develop any farther than it already had. It was... acceptable, if not precisely ideal, for the two girls to come and speak to him about the Simon; the boy had been his responsibility at one point. The rest of his family however, was off limits.

Fixing the pale imitations of both Meredith and his own daughter with an impassive stare he spoke clearly, and in a tone brooked no argument, ironic it was the same voiced he tended to use when dealing with Sarah herself. “That is quite the story you’ve given me” he began slowly. “While I can understand your concern for Simon, I’m afraid there is something I must ask you to understand in return.”

“My daughter has no place in this discussion. She dealt with enough when the boy left; I won’t have her go through more grief just to learn that the brother she believes dead has become a drug addict and hasn’t cared enough to contact her once in the past five years.”

“If you cannot accept that then we are done here.”

Keeping his azure eyes firmly on both girls he allowed a moment for his words to sink in, reading their expressions and judging their reactions. In doing so he was able to catch, and preempt, Ms. Csendes inevitable follow up question.

"His mother also has no place in this. I put Meredith to rest years ago and I won't raise her memory for this."

It was a good thing she hadn't taken to sipping her hot chocolate yet. Katrina's protest had tipped her off that it was hot.

> “If you cannot accept that then we are done here.”

He might be done, but Maya sooo wasn't. She set her chin and opened her mouth to ask about the mother, since he'd neglected to mention her. Apparently, he saw that one coming. He had an answer for that too and it was like slap in the face.

The elemental touched her hand to her chest because her heart was trying to crawl out of her throat. He put her to rest? That meant she was dead... It could be a coincidence. There were many Merediths in the world and almost everyone died eventually.

"Meredith... her last name wasn't Swift or maybe Brown?" Swift being her mother's married name and Brown, her maiden.

Maya just wanted to check. It wasn't possible. She wanted to believe that it wasn't possible. So the only way to be sure was to ask. Then she could feel better and convince Zephyr's father to come talk to him himself and they could leave their coincidentally named and deceased mothers out of it.

Katrina also had a family member she hadn't contacted in years. It wasn't because she didn't still care for him. It was because the last time she had called, she had rather gotten the impression that he no longer cared for her. It had been Christmas. There had been a lot of shouting. She hadn't dared call back since.

It seemed like all the times she had asked Zephyr about his family, he avoided the subject. Maybe there had been a similar misunderstanding between him and his sister.

She nodded in understanding at the man's request, but didn't necessarily agree that it was the right thing to do. By all indications, Zephyr and his sister had been really close. There was nothing that should stop them from being close again. It was just dumb, otherwise. Not that it was her place to say anything here, not with Ghost suddenly demanding more information about Zephyr's mom now.

It almost sounded like she knew Zephyr's mom. Wait, Swift? That was Ghost's old last name! Did that mean she was possibly a relative of the Meredith who was a relative of Zephyr? That would mean they were... cousins, maybe? On her Dad's side.