Author's note: And we come to the end of another fic. Next week we're starting a new one; please, please, please read the warnings in my profile first, ok?

***

"…so then Mark defeated Nivaine, and we were able to separate Laura from the amulet." Lok sat back, his part in their carefully concocted story over.

"We have the amulets here, but they're going to need some care before they're ready to Bond again." Dante held up the amulets.

"The police have Laura in custody; she tried to attack them when they showed up. Without her amulet, though, she couldn't cast any spells." Zhalia glanced at Sophie.

"And that's about it, really." She smiled innocently before sitting backwards.

Since Sandra didn't have a communications system like Dante, they were using the holotome's system. This restricted Guggenheim's view a little; he couldn't see Sandra at all, which had made her report on Nivaine and Holkan much more interesting than it might otherwise have been. Likewise, he couldn't see Scarlett, but she'd had relatively little to contribute so far.

"I see." Guggenheim studied them for a long moment before turning to Mark. "And what was your part in all this, Mark?"

"Mark was trying to stop them!" Lok said quickly. "He was like Zhalia, only the other way around."

Tara, safely out of Guggenheim's view, laughed softly at that; Lok glared at her, and she pressed both hands against her mouth, holding the noise in.

"Mark?" Guggenheim asked.

"Go ahead, Mark," Dante encouraged him.

Mark took a deep breath, looking down. "I wasn't with Aidan and Laura when they found the Titans. Deachtaire made some mess, but he didn't hurt anyone. And I don't think I did, either. But I didn't try to stop them, and I could have."

"Could you?" Guggenheim asked.

"I don't think I could have stopped them, no sir. Certainly not after Scarlett, not once they'd realised that other people had Titans too. But I could have tried."

"It seems to me," Guggenheim said thoughtfully, "that you stayed with them, to limit their influence as it were, until you found some help to take them down. Which you accomplished without hurting anyone."

"Laura's insane."

"She was going that way anyway," Tara pointed out. Guggenheim craned around, but he still couldn't see her. "Trust me, Mark, you didn't hurt her any worse than she hurt herself."

"Scarlett tells me you've been offered a place on her team. I'd like to make that offer official."

"It's very kind, sir, but I start college next month." Mark had apparently decided this during the night; he didn't sound uncertain at all.

"I see. And what are you studying?"

"Languages, specialising in lost Celtic and Romantic dialects."

"Well, the Foundation can always use linguists. How long is your course?"

"Four years."

"Good, good. I'll be expecting a call in four years, then. Scarlett, think you can manage until then?"

"I could teach him a lot in a month, Guggenheim. Make sure this is what he wants to do."

"Sorry, I'm…are you offering to wait for me?" Mark blinked, totally lost.

"I think they're offering you a summer job while you're studying, and a full job when you graduate." Lok grinned when Mark just gaped.

"That's the idea, yes," Guggenheim agreed. "Student life is expensive, as I dimly recall. And I'm sure if we're creative enough, we can find you jobs that'll count towards your course credits. What do you say?"

"Yes please. Yes." Mark nodded quickly, turning to look at Scarlett. "Thank you."

"You're quite welcome."

"See if you're still happy in a week," her teammate muttered from the kitchen door. "Slave driver, this one."

"Careful, Jon," Scarlett said, grinning. "There are worse jobs than the ones you're doing."

"Aye, the ones you'll have him doing." Jon retreated when she glared at him, smiling.

***

"Leaving us already?"

Tara paused at the gate, looking back. "I think you have everything in hand. I'm not sure how much help I can be."

Zhalia pushed away from the tree she'd been leaning against. "You help Lok."

"Lok's fine. He's going back with you."

"That's not what I was worried about."

Tara started to answer, pausing when Lok burst out of the house. "Tara?"

"Evening, Lok."

"Are you leaving?" He paused by Zhalia, glancing sideways at her.

"Yeah. Time I went home, I think. Let you enjoy your holiday."

He laughed softly. "Hasn't been much of a holiday yet."

"All things come, Curly."

He glanced at Zhalia again, catching Tara's arm and walking her on several feet. "You have to go?"

"My mother's waiting at home. I haven't been back in two days." She studied him for a moment. "What's wrong?"

"They want me to be better than my dad," he murmured.

"Is that what it's all been about? Curly, I doubt that."

"They do," he insisted. "Everyone keeps saying it. How he was the best, and I'm even better, and I'll be the greatest ever."

Tara looked back at Zhalia; the older girl couldn't hear them, but she was obviously aware they were discussing something important. "What's wrong with being the best, Lok?"

"I don't want to be better than him. I just want to bring him home."

"Don't be better than him, then. Just…be better today than you were yesterday. Tomorrow, be better than today. Stop measuring yourself against him."

"You make it sound so easy," Lok muttered.

Tara smiled, leaning against the wall. "I know. It's a skill."

"Pretending like you understand?"

"I understand. I just can't empathize. Or maybe I mean that the other way around." She frowned, thinking about it, and he laughed without meaning to.

"I love your honesty."

"Hmm. I love when I make sense. I think I'm tired."

"You can stay."

"No. It's time to go." She started to turn away, pausing and looking back. "Want to make me a promise?"

"Not if you're going to phrase it like that."

"You'll like this one."

He glanced over his shoulder at where Zhalia was still waiting for him. "You're making me really nervous here, Tara."

"Aw, come on, Curly. Would I embarrass you in front of your friend?"

"Yes. If you could." He grinned when she pouted. "What promise?"

"Talk to Sophie?"

Lok swallowed the instinctive "What do you mean?" and nodded quietly. "I'd really like to."

"You should. I know people, Lok Lambert, and you should talk to her. 'Specially if you're going to be chasing down Titans and crazy Lookers...Finders..."

"Seekers..."

"...all the time."

"It's not all the time," he protested.

"Near enough." She caught his arm when he turned away, hauling him back around to look at her. "Be who you are, Lok. You're pretty cool. I didn't make friends with you because you're Eathon's son. I made friends with you because you're Lok."

"You made friends with me because you felt badly that I lost a tooth protecting you."

"There's that," she agreed. "Lok Lambert, defender of the weak and helpless. And me."

He laughed softly, lowering his head; she touched his arm, catching his eye when he looked up. "You keep saying Mark's a natural, that anyone can see how much he loves his Titans and how much he loves this life. That's what we see in you, Curly. Go be a Seeker, and forget about what you're trying to live up to. And I'll be here the day you bring Eathon home."

"I really did miss you," he murmured, pulling her in for another hug.

"Yeah, I know. I'd miss me too." She grinned at his outrage, turning in his grip to catch Zhalia's eye. "See how I made him smile? I'm putting you in charge of making sure he does that every chance he gets, alright?"

"You know Lok," Zhalia said with a shrug. "Stubborn."

"Hey!" Lok protested.

"Bye, Curly."

"Bye, Tara."

She was almost out the gate when he called "Tara? Are you..."

She lifted one hand without stopping when he trailed off, twisting it awkwardly so he could see the ring on her finger. Lok laughed, turning away and heading back towards the house.

***

They stayed for four more days, taking the holiday that had been their original excuse. Lok showed the team around, pointing out historical sights and favoured spots from his childhood. They went to the reburial of the Black Friars' remains, watching the ceremony quietly.

Aidan watched them from the other side of the graveyard. He didn't approach them, or the graves, and they ignored him.

"We should do something about him," Zhalia murmured.

"We are doing something about him," Dante assured her. "We're ignoring him. Scarlett's keeping an eye on him; he won't go for power again. If he ever does find another Titan, he'll come to the Foundation."

"You have so much faith in people," she said, almost wistfully.

"An easy life will do that to you," Lok said from just behind them. "Now please shush. This is a funeral, and we're getting weird looks."

"Poor Lok," Zhalia said teasingly. "Afraid you can't come home again?"

"No, I'm afraid you'll get kicked out for unseemly behavior. Try and pretend you're awed or moved or something, please?"

Zhalia scowled, but she held her peace for the rest of the burial.

Aidan was gone when they turned to leave.

Scarlett called on their last day, wishing them a safe journey and telling them that Mark was already fitting right into her team. "You'll have to watch yourself, Dante," she told him. "We'll be on your tail next thing. Team Scarlett, taking the crown of Dante Vale and his kids."

"Yeah, but only in the holidays," Lok reminded her.

"Then you'll be level. You'll be going back to school in another month," Sandra told him firmly.

"Sounds fair to me," Dante agreed. "We'll be on a level playing field."

"Safe journey," Scarlett said, vanishing.

"Is everyone packed?" Dante asked. "We need to be going."

The team scattered to look for their bags and he turned to Sandra. "Thank you for your hospitality."

"Thank you for bringing Lok home."

Dante smiled faintly. "I'm sorry we keep him away so much."

"I'm not. Not if he's happy. Take care of him, Dante."

"I will. I promise."

Lok clattered back in, arguing over his shoulder with Cherit about something; Sophie followed him, loudly trying to take Cherit's side, and Zhalia ghosted in after them, Dante's bag in her arms. Dante shrugged apologetically at Sandra and began herding his team out the door.

***

Dante paused outside the bookshop in Kilorglin, eyeing it. "Lok? We have a few minutes, if you want."

"No thanks. Tara and I said goodbye already."

Sophie fell into step beside him as they walked. "Nice to be home again?"

"It's weird. We came home a month ago, and we had a mission and everything, just like this time. But I feel so much iolder/i this time."

"Like you've left something behind," Sophie murmured.

"Mmm – yeah, kind of like that." He pulled his father's journal from his pocket, studying it. "You think I can find my father some day, Sophie?"

"I think you can do anything you set your mind to, Lok. If you want to find him, we'll find him together." Lok grinned, and she blushed furiously. "I mean as a team. All of us."

"Of course. All of us, as a team," Lok agreed solemnly.

Cherit, wrapped around his neck as usual, nodded quickly. "All of us!"

"Think he's alright?" Dante murmured, keeping his voice down so the kids wouldn't hear him.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Zhalia asked, equally quiet. "We're not best buddies."

"You've spent more time alone together."

"We spent a week in Australia, surrounded by the Organization, and he had a fever! We weren't exchanging life stories."

Dante shrugged, smiling, and she sighed. "Yeah. I think he's alright. He's more himself than he was before the mission, anyway."

Ahead of them Sophie laughed at something Lok had said, shoving him playfully. He took the hit with a grin and a ducked head, protesting his innocence all the time. Cherit grinned, almost falling off his shoulder.

"That's good to see," Dante murmured.

"Does that mean we can go back to missions?" Zhalia asked, deliberately drawling the words.

"Yeah." Dante glanced at the ring on his hand, the ring holding the Titan Behemoth. "Let's get back to the missions. Let's finish Eathon's quest for him."

Lok grinned over his shoulder at him, catching the words, and then had to duck when Sophie aimed at him again. "Hey! Can you find the airport? No? Then stop beating up on your guide."

"I could too find it! It's…" She hesitated, looking around.

"That way," Cherit said helpfully.

"That way," she said, a little more doubtfully.

Lok scowled at Cherit. "Spoilsport."

Sophie laughed, letting Cherit scramble onto her shoulder, and they walked on together.

***

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talkstoangels: Really? I didn't know there were actually people like that! I just thought it was funny...

Kaliann: Thanks!

Phoenix: Just this one. New story next week! :D