Marked Target ~ Chapter Ten ~ by: Danielle Krieger (c) 2011 Lawrence "Lex" McKinley lives about as average a life as one can with metahumans popping up everywhere. Well, as normal as someone who spends their free time as an MMA fighter really can. He's about to get the shock of his life--the punch he never saw coming. In this installment: Talon reacquaints herself with the members of Posse. Agent Helligan's investigation continues and seems to come to a head. Lex receives a little surprise as she plays the game she was working on at Orion Software. Then, receives quite a shock.

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DISCLAIMER :: This is a retroactive continuity. A “ret-con”, if you will. It follows other stories in Lilith Langtree’s “Comics RetCon Universe”. The story is mine, but some of the characters are not. This is a RetCon of X-23, from Marvel Comics’ X-men (with a special guest appearance from Dr. Hank McCoy). Laura Kinney, X-23, and Dr. Henry Philip “Hank” McCoy, Beast, are trademarks of Marvel Comics. Green Arrow and Agent Helen Helligan are trademarks of Detective Comics. All rights reserved. The pic has been brought to you by the enigmatic Joshua Middleton.

WARNING:: There is a depiction of domestic violence in this chapter. I don't think I have to reiterate how much I abhor such things, but it keeps in line with the character who is the perpetrator. Thankfully, it is quite brief.

Author's Note :: This chapter took a little bit of tweaking. Some of my science had to be corrected. Thanks to EOF and Lilith for keeping my facts straight. It's a bit of a slow chapter, action-wise, but it's got some good info.

Contest :: Find my obscure reference and you get to beta Chapter 11. Good luck! xD

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Chapter Ten:

Getting a little lost wasn’t too bad, really. At the very least, I was in the correct part of town that I wanted to be in. In no time at all, the surroundings became familiar and I knew just where I was heading. The engine purred like a happy tigress as I piloted through the streets of the Mission District toward Bayview/Hunter’s Point.

A few minutes later, the area became incredibly familiar. On one side was housing complexes, either tenements or single-family homes. On the other side, it seemed there was nothing but older warehouses and run-down factories. Such was a reality in a West Coast shipping hub, I deduced. The same couldn’t be said for Seattle, but San Francisco had been around a little longer and there was that whole gold rush thing back in the middle of the 19th Century. As I pulled up to the familiar building, I grabbed the clutch and twisted the throttle a couple of times. This had become a fun way to announce my arrival. Pulling the clutch and brakes, I slowed to a stop just outside the door.

A moment later, the engine cut off and Damper stepped outside. “Horale! Look what the cat dragged in!”

Thumper tumbled out behind him. “Where the fuck you been, chica?”

I pulled off my helmet and threw my head from side-to-side for a second. This had been done in a few movies and I was performing it without even considering that it was the “this girl is hot” reveal technique. Giving them a smile, I set the helmet on the handlebars. “Well, been dealing with the feds, that’s what.”

Damper stumbled backward. “You ain’t bringin’ them here, are you?”

I scoffed at him and climbed off the bike. “Why would I do something stupid like that?”

“Good, ‘cuz I don’t wanna have to kick that ass of yours. It’s too fuckin’ sexy.” Thumper winked.

My eyes rolled. “Geezus, Thumper. Can we have one conversation where we don’t talk about my ass?”

He shrugged. “I can’t help it, chica.”

Damper smacked the back of his head. “Lay off, man.” Then, his eyes hit the chrome. “Where’d you get the sweet ass hog, though?”

“Damper, it’s gotta be a Harley to be classified with the ‘hog’ title. This baby’s a Triumph.” I lovingly patted the gas tank. “It was a gift, though. The last couple days have been pretty busy.”

Some air escaped his lips, almost like a reverse gasp. “Got that right. Come on inside. We’ll talk about it.”

Pulling the keys out of the ignition and stuffing them into the waist pocket of my coat, I followed the two of them inside. The smell of finely grilled hamburgers with all the garnish hit my nose and my stomach girgled. Esteban was working his magic, again. The three of us stepped inside. Bonita happily greeted me with a hug. Probe glanced over and waved at me. Scour looked up from his movie to give me a nod. Esteban was back in the kitchen, so I don’t think he noticed me. Typical day with “the family”. I plopped down onto the couch next to Scour who quickly explained what movie he was watching. However, Damper shut it off and tossed me a cold bottle of beer. I caught it without even looking at him or seeing the bottle. Yep, business as usual.

Damper planted one foot on the TV stand, leaning on his bent knee while he opened his beer. “So, seriously, where the hell you been? I know I told you ‘come back when you’re ready’, but I didn’t think you’d be gone for three days.”

Twisting open the metal top, I took a swig of beer before answering him. It’s not like I could get intoxicated with just one. “Well, robbed a liquor store and tried to get drunk, but it didn’t really work out. I had some good shit, too. Green Arrow came along, didn’t like my drinking, shot an arrow through my vodka and spilled it all over me. Then, she decided to put me on house arrest. I didn’t want to end up with the cops, so I went with it.”

Thumper furrowed his brow. “The self-righteous blondie got you? Fuck, that sucks.”

I knowingly nodded to him. “The next day, she took me out to Berkeley to see that Dr. McCoy I told you guys about. He’s cool shit, though. He ran a crap load of tests most of the day.”

“Did he find anything?” Bonita wondered.

I shook my head. “Nothing bad, really. He couldn’t really come up with anything after just three hours, though. It takes a lot longer for shit to work out.”

“Eggheads take forever with anything.” Scour snorted.

“Yea, but, they gotta know for certain about this kinda stuff, right, Talon?” Damper added.

“Yep. Genetic testing takes a little time.” Tilting the bottle upward, down went another swig. “The day after that, I met some chick from the DMA. I dunno what to think about that, though.”

“Chill out, Talon. DMA is on our side… unlike the rest of the Feds.” Esteban reassured me, appearing from nowhere in the kitchen.

I shrugged. “She said they were going to go through and confirm everything, but I can’t help being a little paranoid. After what I’ve been through in the past year, you would be, too.”

“Chica’s got a point, ese.” Damper agreed. “You got people you don’t know showin’ up and it makes ya think. Badge could’a been fake, too.”

“That’s what I said.” I acknowledged, taking another swig. Glancing around the room, my eyes took in each of their faces. The idea that came to my mind was a long shot, but worth asking. “Hey, you guys ever think of getting out of here? I mean, I got this big house, now, and I’m the only one in it. It’s huge and there’s plenty of room for you guys in it. You guys took me in when I needed it. I feel like I need to return the favor.”

“Thanks, Talon, but…” Bonita began, looking somewhat somber.

“No.” Damper shook his head. He threw up his hands, indicating the warehouse around us. “This is our home, Talon. Yea, we took you in. You needed to know you wasn’t alone. We ain’t goin’ nowhere. It’s cold, out in the open, and needs a lot of shit cleaned up, but it’s home.” He mentally took a step back. “Wait… you got a house?”

I shrugged. “A gift, like the bike, from Green Arrow. I also got a phone. The bitch has connections, I’ll give her that.” Then, a sigh escaped my lips. “So, not coming to live with me, huh? I guess I can respect that.”

Thumper chuckled. “Gonna have to, chica. We ain’t leavin’ here.”

“Well, then, all of you had better come and visit me!” Giggling, I barked the order. Then, my gaze fell on Bonita. “Especially you. Just because I won’t be living here doesn’t mean I don’t want to see that baby or that you can’t drop her off when you need ‘mommy time’.” I winked.

Bonita grinned. “Yea, I’m game for riding ‘bitch’ on your bike so we know where the place is.”

Damper shook his head. “No… no… there ain’t gonna be no lesbian fantasy in my head!”

Everybody shared a laugh. It was interrupted by a strange tone and vibrating sensation in the inner pocket of my jacket. Perplexed, I pulled out the phone.

“Shit. I’ve got a call, guys.” I excused myself before pressing “Send” to answer the call. “Hello?”

“Greetings, Talon. I do hope that I haven’t caught you at an inopportune moment.” The male voice on the other end was vaguely familiar.

“Hank?”

“The very same. Were you expecting someone else?”

I shook my head as if he could see it. “Er… no, but… how’d you get this number?”

“We have a mutual acquaintance at the Department of Metahuman Affairs, it seems. On that point, are you available to come in to my lab? It is imperative that we gather one more DNA sample from you.”

I glanced back at my friends. Every one of them had a confused expression. “Um… I guess so?”

“Excellent. I should expect you within the next hour or so?”

My head bobbed up and down. “Sure… I guess.”

“Salutations, Talon. Drive carefully.”

The line went dead.

The waiting was always the worst part. Three days ago, she and her team had visited the McKinley household in Falls City, Nebraska. Yesterday, she had made phone inquiries to all the reported acquaintances: Micheal Deutsch, Steven Kinsig, and Rachel Maddingly. Running their names didn’t take much out of her day. They didn’t even have misdemeanors. Micheal and Steven had been married in Canada, but such wasn’t legal in the United States, so she couldn’t legally acknowledge the union. A pity, really. All three were cooperative, but understandably protective of their young friend. She wasn’t certain if they were withholding any information. At the same time, the body of Lawrence McKinley had been exhumed and the forensic pathologist was performing the autopsy. Today, Agent Helligan wasn’t doing much besides sitting around the FBI field office in St. Joseph, Missouri, and awaiting word from any number of studies currently underway. She hated playing the waiting game.

She let out a sigh after hanging up from the call to the investigating officer at the Kittitas County Sheriff’s Department. They had discovered the scene after a fire was reported by a hiker in the area near Cle Elum Lake, just over the Snoqualmie Pass. Once they responded to the scene, they had found some camping gear and a body. After the initial autopsy, they confirmed the identity of the victim to be Lawrence McKinley and the cause of death to be smoke inhalation. So, a report of kidnapping goes to Seattle Police Department and Lawrence was actually out camping? It had holes big enough to drive a eighteen-wheel tractor-trailer through. She let out a groan as her head fell into her hands, wondering why she always got the tough cases.

The sound of a knocking on the door of her temporary office brought her back to reality. Glancing over, she caught sight of a man in his early thirties, wearing a lab coat and wire-frame glasses. Carrying a bundle of papers, he seemed cheerful.

“Oh, Dr. Farnsworth, please tell me you have good news.” Agent Helligan groaned.

“You don’t know the half of it.” He forcefully set the papers down on her desk. “You were right to think there were huge holes in the investigation. The dental history is an exact match, all the way down to removed wisdom teeth and a single filling in one of the top molars. It’s mind-blowing how exact, too.”

“Okay, that we knew. The good news?”

He smirked. “They aren’t even the same nationality. I don’t know who that body in my morgue is, but it’s not Lawrence McKinley. The bone structure is all wrong. Sure, it’s a male who would stand at five-feet-ten and falls somewhere between twenty-four and twenty-seven years old. On the flip side of the coin, the man on my table is Hispanic with some inherited Aztec bone structure. Didn’t you say that Lawrence McKinley was part Sioux?”

Agent Helligan nodded. “Yes, that’s the history his mother told us.”

“Right. The John Doe on my table had black hair. Given the photographs on the fliers from his mixed martial arts promotions, Lawrence had brown hair. Also, if you take into account the loss of water, skin, fat tissue, and even muscle tissue from burns that bad, the guy we have wasn’t even in the same weight class as ‘The Animal’. We’re lucky if he was about one-fifty-five.”

Grabbing the bundle of papers, her eyes scanned over the details. “Well, that confirms it. Did you run some tissue samples and DNA to identify our John Doe?”

He nodded. “Yea, but it’ll take a while to get back from the lab in St. Louis. Their database goes nationwide and our resources are much more limited, here.”

She shrugged. “DMA is officially backing out of that investigation. I’ve got other worries. You can pass it along to the SAIC for the FBI, here.” Smiling, she handed the bundle back to him. “Thanks for being so thorough, Doctor. Your reputation precedes you.”

He smiled. “Thank you, Agent Helligan. You’re too kind.”

The phone rang, ending their conversation prematurely. She pointed at the phone and he nodded, leaving the room. Letting out a sigh, she crossed back to the desk, sat down in the chair, and picked up the receiver of the phone.

“Agent Helligan, here.” She answered routinely.

“Helen, this is Director Harkin. How is your day going?” The man on the other end responded.

“Well, sir, we caught our first break. We have a John Doe in the morgue that I’m passing on to the FBI for identification. Other than that, there’s some character witnesses, but no solid evidence, yet. Why do you ask?”

Director Harkin sighed. “Well, I’m sorry, Helen, but we can’t authorize an operation into Washington State. This investigation is already costing too much and the FBI can’t spare the manpower for surveillance, right now. Besides, the only lead on this place is the word of some teenage girl in California. We can’t risk it.”

“I understand, sir. Did you manage to get anything from the Google satellite that passed over the area yesterday morning?” She nibbled her lip in anticipation.

“No, Helen. The area was overcast. We’ll have to wait another couple of weeks before there’s a photographic satellite in that area. The Pacific Northwest is notorious for cloud cover. No guarantees, even when the thing passes.”

Her heart sank. For the sake of the girl’s concerns, she wanted to confirm that site. “Would I have authorization for a field op? This girl is paranoid, sir. She’s convinced that whoever kidnapped her is still after her. After reviewing the police report from the day seven men were killed under the convention center, I’m inclined to believe her, sir.”

He sighed again. That wasn’t good. “No, Helen, I can’t authorize that. It’s enough that you’re encroaching on the jurisdiction of the SAIC in Lincoln and Kansas City. I’ll talk with the SAIC in Seattle and see what he’s willing to do. I cannot promise anything.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome, Helen. Now, wrap up what you’re doing there and head back to San Francisco. I have a sense we’re going to need you active in the area.”

“What would give you that impression?”

“We have several actives in the area, Helen. Take your pick: You have Green Arrow, whom we haven’t confirmed to be meta or not. You have Blue Beetle, who is not confirmed meta but does have some powers. There is also that Zatanna character to consider. You have Posse operating in the area and tied to three persons of interest. Now, you have this Talon character that is the only one that has admitted to killing people. I’m not condemning that action, but we haven’t confirmed it to be self-defense or not. I know you dislike the analogy, but we need our watchdog back in her yard. I suggest you get to it as soon as possible.”

“Understood, sir. I’ll wrap it up as soon as I can.”

“See that you do. Good-bye, Agent Helligan.”

One click and the line went dead. She let out a long sigh as she placed the receiver back into its cradle. Her head fell upon the desk and she closed her eyes, letting out a defeated sigh. That was disheartening. It wasn’t much of a surprise, however. Given all the budget cuts coming out of this Congress, she was amazed this little field operation had even been approved. She would count her blessings in being able to do her job, though. Before she could relax, the phone rang again. My, this was a busy day.

“This had better be good news.” She grumbled into the receiver.

“Well, hello to you, too, Helen.” The man on the other end greeted facetiously.

“Dr. Hamilton?” She shook her head. “Sorry. I just set down a call with bad news. Tell me yours is better?”

“You would be correct. After receiving Dr. McCoy’s overnight package, the past two days have been remarkably fruitful.”

“Lay it on me, Doctor.”

“Well, I now have indisputable evidence that our charge in San Francisco is a metahuman. I have the results to put into the file. You’ll be pleased when you receive the packet. Furthermore, I ran the DNA for the father, mother, and that body in the morgue.”

“Let me guess: there’s no relation?”

“Did Dr. Farnsworth already speak with you?”

“Yes, nearly ten minutes ago. However, you have the DNA proof and he has the autopsy as proof. Anything else?”

“Miraculously, I received a blood sample from the real Lawrence McKinley from his primary care physician in Seattle. It took some doing, but I’m very glad we were able to procure it. When compared to our girl Talon, it wasn’t an exact match. If anything, they are genetically siblings. Honestly, I anticipated that. After investigating Sarah McKinley’s medical history, she was deemed infertile because of complications during delivery. She has only given birth to one child.”

“That seems a bit vexing, Dr. Hamilton.”

“I am aware of that, Agent Helligan. Thus, I dove back into the DNA samples. I was able to connect Lawrence, Talon, and Sarah through their shared mitochondrial DNA. Lawrence and Talon both link back to Sarah as their mother. Given that she only had one child, I can say with certainty that Talon is Sarah’s daughter.”

A smile grew on Agent Helligan’s face. “Well, she’ll be pleased with that news, I’d wager.”

“There is one thing that still vexes me, however. I could not connect Randall McKinley to Lawrence or Talon.”

Her brow furrowed. “What does that mean, Doctor? What are you telling me?”

“When I compared the samples and conducted a paternity test through the nuclear DNA, there was only a one-percent probability that Randall McKinley is Lawrence or Talon’s father.”

“That’s… odd.”

“I agree, Helen. I don’t know who the father of Lawrence or Talon is, but I do know for absolute certainty that it is not Randall McKinley. Also, neither Randall nor Sarah have the meta gene to pass down to their children. Whomever the father of Lawrence is, and Talon by proxy, they are either an active or dormant metahuman. That’s the going theory, anyway. We still have not concretely determined what is causing these metahumans or how the nucleotides sync up to create the meta gene, but we’re moving forward with the idea that one parent must be meta–giving a fifty-percent chance of producing a metahuman child.”

Letting out a sigh, her head fell into her free hand. “So, we’re looking for another metahuman who could possibly be the father?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. However, given the number of metahumans manifesting these days, there are several records to sift through. It could, feasibly, take weeks or even months to compare all the DNA samples to determine who the father is. That is, of course, if we even have those records. The father could even be an unknown and undocumented metahuman.”

“Anything else, Doctor?”

“Beyond questioning Sarah about her sexual history so that we might narrow down the possibilities, there isn’t much more that I can do. Dr. McCoy has more physical evidence waiting for you to review once you return to San Francisco.”

“Thank you, Dr. Hamilton.”

“You’re welcome, Agent Helligan. I hope the rest of the day fares well for you.”

Needless to say, the trip back to Falls City was not an enjoyable one. For one thing, it was four hours through some of America’s most boring terrain. For another, Agent Helligan had too much time to contemplate the news she would have to deliver to the McKinleys. She would be fooling herself is she wasn’t dreading Randall’s reaction to Dr. Hamilton’s findings. Thus, she instructed Sanchez and Williams to carry their tasers, just in case.

They pulled up in front of the familiar house and she could feel the anxiety well up inside her. She was happy to have the backup, but it was just the one team, this time. Budget cuts can be a real pain, sometimes. Letting out a sigh and not saying a word, she nudged her head toward the doors and all three climbed out of the SUV, again. They strode up to the door and Agent Helligan knocked once more. There was a shuffling of a chair inside and footsteps came to the door.

When it swung open, Randall once again beheld the federal agents. “Back again? What the hell do you want, this time?”

“Sorry to bother you, again, Mr. McKinley, but there’s been a break in the case that we need to discuss with you.” She replied as cordially as she could muster.

He stepped away from the threshold. “Make it quick. I gotta work, this afternoon.”

Nodding, she and her backup followed him inside. The only difference was that Mrs. McKinley was in the kitchen and the smell of their lunch filled the air. The three agents stepped into the house and Williams closed the door behind them. Mrs. McKinley moved to where she could see and carried a bewildered expression.

“Back so soon, Agent Helligan?” The woman asked.

Letting out a sigh, she folded her arms in front of her at the wrists. “Mr. And Mrs. McKinley, we have some good news and some bad news. First and foremost, the person you buried last year was not your son. We have confirmed it by autopsy and DNA evidence. We don’t know who the man is. The FBI will take over that investigation.”

Tears welled up in Sarah’s eyes. “You mean…?”

“Yes, Mrs. McKinley, your child is very much alive.”

The dam broke and tears rolled down her cheeks. “Oh, thank God!”

“My boy is alive?!” Randall seemed to scoff. He sat back down in his chair and continued eating his breakfast.

Agent Helligan cleared her throat. “However, as per the duties of my office, I can announce that your child has an active metahuman gene.”

Randall dropped his fork, jumped up, and stood next to his wife. They were both very perplexed.

“What?!” They chorused.

“Now... you’re tellin’ me that my boy ain’t just some kinda fag, but he’s also one o’ them fuckin’ freaks, too? That ain’t good news!”

“Randall!” Sarah glared at her husband.

“That may be premature, Mrs. McKinley. There is the bad news. You see, when comparing your DNA to your child’s, neither of you carry the metahuman gene. In order for it to even be present, we believe that one of the parents must be a carrier of that gene. Incorrect or otherwise, that is our current running theory. Mr. McKinley, I’m sorry to say that, according to our lab results, you are not the father of Lawrence.”

“What?!” The rage exploded within him at that moment. Before anyone could react, he spun around to Sarah and shoved her into the refrigerator. “You filthy fuckin’ whore!” He coiled his fist and punched her across the face. “You cheatin’ fuckin’ bitch!”

In the next second, Sanchez and Williams jumped into action and grabbed Randall before he could further assault Sarah. Agent Helligan felt a pang of guilt run through her body. This is exactly what she didn’t want to happen. While the men subdued and cuffed Randall, she strode over to examine Sarah. It wasn’t immediately apparent what injuries she sustained, but there would likely be some bruising on her cheek.

“You get your shit and get the fuck outta my house, whore! I never wanna look at your ugly ass face as long as I live!” Randall screamed, writhing against his captors. “You’re dead to me, you hear! Dead!”

“Mr. McKinley, that’s enough! Unless you want a few hundred volts passing through you, I’d shut the fuck up!” Sanchez warned.

Randall glared at him. “Fuck you and that fuckin’ bitch!”

Agent Helligan spun around with malice on her face. “Get him out of my sight, gentlemen, and take him into custody for assault and battery!”

“Yes, ma’am.” Williams replied with something that sounded like a growl.

Mr. McKinley was dragged out of the house while Agent Helligan did her best to comfort Mrs. McKinley. This had dissolved into chaos and she knew she wouldn’t hear the end of it. It was going to be a long trip back to San Francisco.

Three weeks. Had it really been that long? Here it was, the middle of March and I had heard nothing from that agent from DMA. Didn’t they say something would happen within a week? I really hate it when government types get their timetables all screwed up.

For the first few days, it wasn’t too bad. I gathered up all my clothes and everything from the Posse Hacienda. The clothes and teddy bear got immediately thrown into the brand new washing machine. They stunk to high heaven, anyway. I hung out over there for a little while. It was nice to catch up. Bonita seemed to enjoy the ride on the rear seat of my motorcycle back to the house. She loved the house, too. Once she knew where it was, the others did, too. It was a little weird, though. They wouldn’t sleep over. They wouldn’t eat my food. They wouldn’t even let me wash their clothes. Bonita thought bringing over Alina’s laundry every week or so wouldn’t hurt anything, though. At least the baby would get fresh, clean clothes. Scour and Thumper loved the TV. They came over just to be able to watch it. We found out that I had cable.

After that first week, I was pretty much bound to the house. Expecting Agent Helligan to show at any moment, I didn’t want to stray too far from the place. So, I had to figure out something to do. There was really only one thing that I knew would keep me in the house, pass the time quickly, and keep me well entertained: gaming. I was still in diapers when I picked up my first NES controller and it’s been a love affair ever since. Thus, I endured the trip to the “mall” at the bottom of Nob Hill. Lost in the jumble of buildings housing stores like Tiffany & Co. or The Apple Store, I’m glad my new smartphone had an application that led me to GameStop.

The moment I learned that Microsoft had made a Star Wars Xbox Kinect bundle, I had to have it. I mean, the console was decked out like R2-D2, complete with authentic sounds, and the controller was designed to be his counterpart, C-3PO. The game, Kinect Star Wars, was likely crap and I wasn’t a big fan of the peripheral, but it was definitely a “must have”. Every nerd girl has to have her toys, right? It had been a limited edition, but they still had one in the store. With the card Olivia had given me, I purchased it and about twenty games I had wanted to play for a long time. Chief among those, the game that had been my labor of love while working at Orion Software, Shadows of the North. It was an action RPG that could be compared to Dragon Age II, but we had a bigger variety of dungeons than BioWare had put into their title. We didn’t like the “copy & paste” ideology that they seemed to implement in their game.

For the next two weeks, I spent nearly every waking moment playing the game I’d worked so hard to bring to release. With the main story quests, side quests, and one-off adventures, the game lasted a good sixty hours–like any decent RPG should. Seeing the full realization of all that conceptualizing, coding, animating, and decorating was like a dream come true. It was just gorgeous in all its high-definition splendor. Given Rachel’s concept art, a few elements of the terrain were very familiar. Also, my code to animate the grass when the wind blew worked like a charm. There were no glitches, either, so hats off to the QA department. After taking on the final boss, I delighted in watching the credits roll and seeing all the familiar names scroll past the screen. There was a surprise at the end of the credits, though. At the very end, the screen faded to black and an image of my old self centered on the screen. Above a candid photo of me in the lounge at work, the text read: In loving memory of Lawrence “Lex” McKinley. Below the picture, it read: June 14, 1985 — March 17, 2011 … May you be making the scenery as gorgeous in heaven as you did for us. The tears flowed freely. I didn’t know whether to hug them all or punch them all in the face.

After finishing that game, I moved on to refreshing my memory of what had happened in Dragon Age: Origins before diving into the story of Dragon Age II. I had the Ultimate Edition with all the downloadable content included. It was going to take me a while to get through the game. That’s one reason I enjoy RPGs so much, they’re an investment of time. I had all the time in the world until I heard back from Agent Helligan.

So, there I was on the couch with the C-3PO controller in my hand and wearing my Punisher T-shirt over a sports bra and panties. My hair was still a tad damp from my shower, but nearly dry. I had resolved a long time before then that going around without some form of bra was somewhat uncomfortable. So, with a sports bra, my boobs were comfortably contained and their jiggling protests at my movement were kept to a minimum. Gallivanting around Ferelden, I hacked and slashed my way to victory while falling in love with the adorable nitwit Alistair. There were guffaws at all the drunken jokes at the expense of Oghren, giggles at the annoyed detachment of Morrigan, a laugh when Sten wanted cookies, and snickers whenever Shayle saw a bird or talked about smashing people’s heads in as the “girly” thing to do.

Wait… did I just say ‘falling in love’ and ‘adorable’ in reference to a guy?

Big Ben beckoned, interrupting my thoughts on the matter. Pressing the “start” button and bringing up the pause menu, I quickly let out a breath that vibrated my lips. It had been at least a week and a half since the doorbell had beckoned me. The first thought that came to my mind was the possibility that Bonita was bringing the baby over. At the very least, that curved my reluctance to answer Big Ben’s call. My bare feet clapped against the hardwood floor as I meandered toward the entrance area. With a bored look on my face, I twisted the knob and opened the door to the outside world.

Again, the badge was thrust in my face. “Agent Helligan, DMA. May we come in, Talon?”

“Sure, but the goons should stay outside.” I answered in my monotone of disinterest.

The typically “always serious” special agent actually smiled. “I have a surprise for you, young lady.” She even winked. Then, she looked me up and down. “However, you could have dressed a bit less casually for the occasion.”

When she strode into the house, a brunette stepped forward from behind the two goons. As soon as our eyes met, I knew exactly who this new woman was. I hadn’t seen her in a couple of years, but I would never forget that face.

“Hello, sweetheart.” She greeted, tears forming in her eyes.

My own eyes shot open very wide. “Mom?!”