Blue Carpet Shoot

With only a few weeks before the release date of SILC arrives, I've decided to crack down on doing some of the 'challenges' for the event--and what better than to do a Blue Carpet Photo Shoot with the main characters of Desperate Sims?

Also gives me a chance to play with some of the new pose packs, and give a makeover to the characters to show just how pretty they can be! Hope you enjoy~

Naomi: incredibly averse to smiling at the camera. 

Her counterpart has absolutely no problem soaking up the attentions of the paparazzi, though.

Aaaaaand, soaking it up some more; Naomi is not exactly patient, though!

Aw c'mon, Naomi--what's your problem? Shy from the camera?

... Apparently not.

Enter Carolina and Lisa Leman, our villains--or rather, villainnesses!

... looking particularly devious, I see. You guys better play nice with everyone else!

Travis is apparently still getting the cold shoulder from his wife; I'm surprised she even agreed to come with him.

'Course, that won't stop him from trying to show her a good time, I guess!

Alesha's looking good without her baby bump; Brad, on the other hand, is looking worried about how much that dress cost them...

... but it definitely paid off. Oh you two, you're so cute! XD

OH GOLLY!! A VICIOUS ROBOT, run for your liiiivvesss!!!

... Just kidding! Seriously. Vicious robot? RIGHT. Apparently you need to get caught up on the story!

Last but not least, we have Jebidiah and Meredith--Mere looking splendid in aqua, as always.

Apparently not feeling so good about being around so many people, though.
"We can leave if you want to..."
"No, nooo, I'm fiiiinnee..." Cough.

From Left to Right: Alesha, Bradley, Amelia, Naomi, Jade, Travis, Meredith, Jebidiah, Carolina, Lisa, Lilobot

And there you have it, folks! I took *quite* a few more than those, but those are the best ones; if you're doing SILC, now would be a fantastic time to take your characters out and strut them along on the Blue Carpet!

... And now, I also *seriously* can't wait for SIFF--imagine how good they'll look on the RED carpet! :D

Read more...

What They Don't Know

Bradley's head felt like it was spinning; in one moment, everything he had ever assumed about his wife had come crashing to its knees. Alesha had always been such a good, caring, selfless person... heck, they probably wouldn't be having so many bill troubles if she hadn't convinced him to donate as much as they could to those less fortunate. She was more giving than anyone else he had ever met.

Why then, had she been possessed to steal? Why, like a squirrel preparing for winter,  had she packed away so many things--things that weren't rightfully theirs? Had this been a recent habit, formed out of boredom or neurosis or who-knows-what, or had she always been like this... had she always lied?

"And if she's lied about this," Bradley murmured to himself, furiously rubbing his head to try and soothe the ache growing there. "What else has she lied about to me?"

There were too many conclusions to jump to, and Brad knew he was doing neither himself nor his wife any favors letting them boil away as he waited for Alesha to come home--but it was already too late. His shock grew to suspicion, and his suspicion to anger; he had trusted her, her alone... and this is what she did?

He was thickly buried in his thoughts when he heard a car pulling into the garage and shut off its engine: she was home.

Alesha had no idea what she was coming home to.

"Oh hey honey, I thought you and Margo would be in the thick of painting, by now!" she erupted as she walked through the front door, a bounce in her step. "Was your mom able to get you the paints.. you..." Alesha froze. Something was clearly wrong. "... Bradley? Are you alright?"

"No, Alesha. I'm not." Though his voice was cold, he didn't start off yelling--but it didn't take long for that to change. "Would you like to explain why there's a very large pile of stuff outside that doesn't happen to be ours?! Stuff that Lilobot saw you carrying into our house herself?!"

A rock sunk into Alesha's stomach. No... No, this couldn't be happening. "B-Brad," she tried to begin. "I can explain--"

"I'm not sure I want to hear your explanation, Alesha! This is... this is beyond explaining! You're--" Brad felt himself pausing on the word, it felt so wrong on the edge of his tongue; and yet, it was true. "--a hypocrite, Alesha. A complete and utter hypocrite."

"No, Brad, I--"

"No? No?! Alesha, ever since you found out about what my father does for a living, you won't let him anywhere near this house! You practically won't even let him see our daughter! You said yourself, you didn't want someone so morally corrupt near our children--which I agree with--and yet here you are, doing the exact same thing?! Do I need to take our daughter away from you, too? By your own freaking standards?!"

That did it--Brad could feel, as the last words left his mouth, that he'd reached the end of the line... and gone several steps past it. Alesha had long since begun to cry, but after he brought up Margo, she'd broken into heaving sobs; as angry as he was, the sight of them finally sent him quiet.

"I... I just... I can't help it, Brad! I didn't want--I didn't want any of it! I certainly didn't want to take it all!"

Brad gave her a 'look'; he was skeptical, and she wasn't making a whole lot of sense. "Then... why did you?"

"Y-y-you don't understand, Brad... E-even I don't understand. We're s-so well off, s-so much better even than most of my friends, but it's  never enough... I've just been s-so afraid of what happened to my parents, los-s-sing everything, and it makes me... it makes me..."

Even though he couldn't fully interpret what Alesha was saying--not that she was even explaining it well to begin with--as she cried, Brad felt a surge of guilt welling up from within him. He understood--this wasn't greed or malice, this was fear leftover from life before him, the life she never talked about. And now he understood why.

And now, he also felt terrible. 'I can't believe I actually thought she... oh, you're so stupid,' Brad thought to himself as he extended a hand to touch her arm, trying to draw her hands away from her tear-streaked face. "Alesha, what I said--I'm sorry... I didn't mean it... I was just, confused."

"N-no, you're right," Alesha continued to bawl, now collapsing into Bradley's arms to cry deeply into his shoulder. "I'm a hypocrite! I've lied and h-hid this from you, and h-haven't tried to fix it b-because I was so ashamed. I d-don't deserve you!"

Bradley scowled. "Alesha, that isn't true and you know it. You made some mistakes, but it's me who should be sorry. You knew I'd react like this--if I weren't so unbending, you might've been able to tell me... It's my fault, okay?"

He felt her nod into his shoulder; Brad knew she probably didn't believe him, but at this point, Brad didn't think it was wise to press the issue any further. She was upset enough as it is.

"You... going to be okay?" he asked, uneasily.

"I'm--" Alesha pulled away, shaking her head with her gaze still averted towards the floor. "I'm going to return it. All of it. I only kept it because I didn't have the courage to give it back--but I should. I need to."

Brad began to nod, but mid-way through he stopped and frowned. "No. No... we're just going to get rid of it. No one else needs to know, okay? I know you want to make it right, but honestly, I don't think anyone else is going to be as understanding. Let's just... try and figure out a way to stop this, okay? Maybe we'll get you to see a counselor or something--okay?"

With a weak smile, Alesha wiped away some of her tears and nodded. "Alright," she agreed half-heartedly. "I guess that would probably be best."

Brad grabbed Alesha'a hands and squeezed tightly, looking into her eyes with the fondest--and most apologetic--of gazes. "Just trust me, okay? I love you--and I love our baby. This isn't something I should've gotten us both stressed over... Especially in your condition. You're perfect the way you are--okay?"

Though she knew he spoke out of guilt, in the end, she did trust him; he did love her, and she loved him... So, with a smile and a nod, she squeezed his hands back and answered, softly... "Okay."

And if there was anyone that could help her through this, it was him.

---

... "... and it's not like it's a totally big deal, but I really don't remember her hogging the covers this much back when we lived in Bridgeport. Maybe she's taking advantage of the fact I've agreed to be her partner now? I don't know, but it just seems awfully--"
... "Amelia."
"--rude of her. Don't get me wrong, I completely adore her, but she's just been so much more lax about things like that lately, and it really is just starting to get on my--"
... "Amelia."
... "What?!"

"I understand that you find this important, but... when I asked you about your feelings for Naomi, I didn't mean about her general habits. I meant specifically about your romantic relationship."

"But... the two are sort of inter-connected, don't you think?"

"In a way, yes, but not quite, Amelia." Dr. de Wynter sighed, his hands raising in defeat. "Look, it seems as if you're open to talk, now, but unless you're willing to take this a bit more seriously, Amelia, I'm afraid we're going to have to call it a day."

"What do you mean? I'm totally taking this seriously!"

At that, Dr. de Wynter just scowled his eyes and cleared his throat. "You've been diverting my questions as much as possible since we've started these sessions, Amelia. It's your sixth visit to see me, and you aren't even sitting in your chair properly. Perhaps if you sat up, we could continue this discussion in a bit more... civilized fashion?"

"Uuugggh, fine," Amelia grumbled, rolling her eyes as she rotated around and dropped her feet to the floor. "If I gotta."

"Look, Amelia," de Wynter began, putting his clipboard on the coffee table as he started to speak to Amelia frankly. "I am here to help you. I'll gladly continue to let you pay me for our little chit-chat sessions, but if you really want to get to the bottom of things, and get better, I suggest you start delving a little deeper into your emotions."

"I dunno, Doc, it's just," Amelia said with a shrug to the wall. "There's not much to say. Naomi makes me happy--she keeps me sane, ya know?"

"Yes, I'm sure she does--but are you sure that that's something she couldn't do as just a friend?"

Amelia paused. "What do you mean?"

"I'm going to be blunt with you, Amelia--a lot of women I've encountered in similar situations have briefly 'experimented' with their sexuality to try to escape what they see as the enemy: men. I want you to understand and accept the fact that your feelings for Naomi may simply be feelings of securi--"

"Wait--" Amelia cut him off, abruptly standing from her seat. "Are you tryin' to say that you don't actually think I love her?"

"No, I just--" Dr. de Wynter sighed. "I'm trying to get you to explore whether or not that is the case, but your unwillingness to talk about your partnership with Naomi is leading me to believe that there may be a lack of intimate feelings on your part... And frankly," he continued, realizing that this was the first real moment he'd had to offer Amelia any insight. "If that's the case, I'd wish to advise you to back out of that relationship before you both end up hurt. Do you understand?"

"Of--of course I understand.. You... you... you TWAT!"

"Amelia, please, why don't you sit back down..." Harris stood up from his seat, his hands raised slightly in surrender--he clearly did not want to start this type of confrontation with his patient, but at this point, he'd had little choice.

"No! I will NOT! What you're trying to say is that because I've only been with guys until now, that I can't possibly be in love with a girl! You're sayin' I'm using her!"

"No, Amelia, that's not what I--"

"Yes, it is. And you're a liar--or an idiot. I love Naomi, and no nanny-suckling inverter... inverta... invertibate like you is gonna tell me otherwise!"

"Well... alright then!" Dr. de Wynter said with a bit of a smile. "I guess we've made some progress then! If you'll sit back down, then we can--"

"Nu UH. I ain't doin' no such thing. I am outta here, Mister--and you're fired. Got it? F. I... Erd. Fired."

"Amelia..." Dr. de Wynter grabbed his nose in frustration--she seriously wasn't doing this, was she? "We're only just beginning to touch on your problems and your coping solutions--if you leave now, you're just going to lose all the progress we could have made..."

"Well... I guess I'm just gonna have to handle it on my own then, huh? 'Cause I'd rather stuff a horse pill down my throat then deal with your homophobia!"

"Amelia--"

Unfortunately, Dr. de Wynter was left standing, mouth agape, in the dust of Amelia's wake; not even bothering to close the door behind her, she stormed out into the hall... but as she looked back, a queasy feeling in her stomach began to surface, and her mind began to wander, briefly considering...

What if he's right?

"Amelia."
...
"Amelia."

"Wait--what?" Amelia looked up, then blinked her eyes several times as they came into focus on the gray of Naomi's irises. The surface of the hottub water bubbling around her slowly brought her back to her senses, fading away the last remnants of her daydream.  "Oh. Sorry," she muttered. "Just lost my train of thought, there."

"Something's wrong," Naomi commented, pulling Amelia closer, a concerned look in her eyes. "I can tell. Want to talk to me about it?"

"Yeah, I--" Though she began confidently, Amelia's words cut off as she turned her gaze directly into Naomi's, where her compassion broke down all of Mia's defenses and left her naked, and invulnerable. "Naomi... Can I ask you something?" she asked, her voice weak.

"Anything," Naomi answered, unphased.

"Do you think... that this is real?" Even in the heat of the tub, Amelia could feel herself trembling nervously, mortified of how Naomi might react--but, she knew, she had to know. "That we'll last?"

"Well..." Naomi took a long breath; her gaze fell a little to one side for a moment in thought, before turning back to join with Amelia's. "Do you want it to be real? And do you want it to last?"

Amelia furrowed her brows a little at Naomi's response. "Of course I do," she grumbled. What kind of question was that?

Naomi couldn't help but smile at the goofy, defensive way that Amelia reacted. She really was too cute, sometimes. "Then yeah," she said with a grin and a nod. "I think it will."

As countless emotions welled up inside of Amelia, she opened her mouth to try to utter something poignant and loving in response--but instead, was silenced by the gentle force of Naomi's lips. The swimming pool's lamplight buzzed irratically above them, and the last family's cars pulled noisily from the parking lot, but all that Amelia could hear was the sound of her own heart, beating faster than she swore it'd ever beaten before.

And yet, in the end... all good things still come at a price.

---

Long after the lights at the swimming pool had shut off--so long that even the morning birds were beginning to awaken and stir perkily in their nests--the entirety of Twinbrook rested peacefully in their beds...

... well. Almost everyone.

... "Jeb... Jeb, wake up," Meredith mumbled, one eye cracking open to glare at the blurry man beside her.
... "Nnnngh," he responded, barely stirring.
... "Your phone, Jeb," she insisted, now giving her husband a soft push.
... "Nnnn... Yeah, I got it," Jebidiah finally groaned, heaving a deep breath of frustration at being awoken from his sleep. He didn't take kindly to being interrupted.

Jebidiah could almost hear his bones creaking as he sat upright--and definitely could hear a few cracking as he straightened his back. Getting old didn't come without it's 'benefits', and being constantly reminded of them was not something that made Jeb particularly pleasant in the morning.

However, after a brief glance at the clock--4:30am? fudge buckets--Jeb finally managed to shift his weight onto his aching toes and walked over to his dresser to pick up and answer his phone.

"This had better be important," he grumbled, but fortunately--or unfortunately, depending on your outlook--Jeb was not  disappointed.

"Uh huh... How long ago... How many people know? ... Yes, yes of course. We'll both be there shortly."

Weariness--weariness that made his elderliness seem pale in comparison--flooded Jebidiah's bones as he watched the lights on his cellphone go dim, and his sister-in-law's name vanish from the screen.

He knew something would happen... but this. This, he did not expect.

"Jeb... Jeb, what's wrong?" Meredith grumbled as she pushed herself up, only to see her husband sitting on the corner of the bed, his head bowed.

"I knew she was going to come after me... But I underestimated her, Meredith. I completely underestimated her. And now..." Jebidiah shook his head, his eyes clamping shut from sheer rage.

"Honey... Who was that?" she asked, now worried.

"It was your sister," Jebidiah responded coolly, taking another deep breath in order to keep himself composed.

There was a slight gasp behind him as Meredith pulled herself free of the blankets, almost shivering at the realization that this could mean nothing but the worst of news. "Jeb... What's happened."

"You need to get dressed," was his response, his voice vapid and emotionless. "Someone's broken in to the Bottega... And they left us a message." Breath. "A murder."

Read more...

The Irresponsible

"I can't believe you let this happen, Tana! All the work I put in to putting that--that woman behind bars, and this is how you repay me?!"

Aside from Jebidiah Kane's looming voice, the Twinbrook police department was fairly quiet save the typing of several officers trying desperately to mind their own business; unfortunately, they had to periodically pause because of the elder man making a scene in the middle of all the main cubicles.

It wasn't anything new, to see one of their fellow officers being yelled down to like a disobedient little school child, but something about the sight of Mr. Kane--Twinbrook's so-called leading crime stopper--doing so was eerie; he'd rarely lost his temper here, before.

Today, though, he had a very good reason to do so.

"Jebidiah! Can we please take this into my office? You're making a fool out of yourself!"

Jebidiah's growl turned into a sarcastic laugh at Officer Larson's response. "Yes, because I'm the one who looks like a fool, letting a prisoner escape out of my custody."

"Just... Office." Tana's arm twisted around, pointing in the desired direction. "Okay?!"

Tana nearly had to drag Jebidiah by his ears to get him to budge from his spot, but when he sat himself down he his composition completely changed, as if his bloodthirsty outburst from before had never happened. Tana scowled from behind the monitor, irritated that he made a public mockery of her only to be patient in private. Unfortunately, she had no right to complain.

"Look, this is all we know. Carolina escaped at some point last night when the guards were switching shifts; she obviously had this planned for months in advance, perhaps even longer. We're unsure how long it would have taken her."

"How long what would have taken her?"

"The..." Plumbbob, this was embarressing. "The hole. We found it this morning. In the corner, underneath her cot, she'd managed to remove a cement slab and... dug."

"So... you're saying that Carolina Leman was paid so little attention to that she was able to dig herself out of prison?"

"Well... Not exactly. She had help, obviously. She only needed to dig partway; someone else on the outside used one of those Miner contraptions to get as close as possible, we're guessing she only had to dig to the edge of the building's foundations."

"Who, then? Her husband?"

Tana shook her head, lips pursed. "Doesn't look like it. We brought Thomas in for questioning--not only was he as shocked as we are, but apparently he hasn't even been in to speak with his wife for the past 6 months. Sounds like they had a falling out of some sort. The only one that had been in to see her, it looks like, was her youngest daughter, Lisa; unfortunately, we've had a tough time tracking the girl down."

"Look," Jebidiah said with a deep sigh, his voice calm now that his disappointment outweighed his fury. "You've obviously all failed considerably, whether it was just your night watchmen or the architect that built this facility. As much as I'd like to sit here all afternoon pointing out those flaws, that obviously isn't my concern."

"Naturally, Jebidiah," Tana responded stiffly, guessing at what he meant. "And, you must understand we have every available resource out trying to catch her before she manages to leave the State."

"No, it's you who doesn't quite understand. Until that woman is caught, lives are at risk. Carolina isn't just going to try to escape... She's going to try to even the score between us."

"Do I need to dispatch a unit to protect you, then?" Tana said with a smirk.

"It isn't me that needs protecting." Deep, weary concern crossed Jebidiah's face, leaving him looking even weaker than his aging years should have made him. "This woman is going to be out to destroy me, Tana. This woman knows exactly how--so until she's caught... it's my family that is not safe."

---

Jade turned the page of her book with intense concentration; too many times had she cut her fingertips from carelessness, but tonight, she was purposefully cautious in order to avoid the glances of her husband, who laid on the bed next to her in a gloomy, bored slouch.

"How is it?" Travis asked, nodding curtly towards the novel in her hands.
"Fine," she responded coldly, pursing her lips; did he really have to bother her, right now?

Several more minutes passed before Travis finally gave up trying to give her space; this cold shoulder BS was becoming too much for him to take, and it didn't help that his wife seemed to look pleased with herself every time he looked put out.

"C'mon, Jade," he said in a soft voice, reaching out a hand to grip the corner of her book. "Put it away. I want to spend some time with you."

Jade grumbled as he tugged it from her loose grip, and as she heard the hard cover thump onto the floor on the opposite side of the bed.

"You know I don't have time for this right now," she said, forcefully averting her gaze from his as he carefully took ahold of her, threading his fingers through hers. "I need to go to sleep, I have a lot to do tomorrow."

"Jade..." Travis's voice was lost, earnestly pleading to be believed. "I'm not asking for much. I just... I need you to stop pushing me away. It's been weeks since--since you'll even look at me. Just... give me something, to know I should actually keep trying to fix this. Please."

"You know what? No. I won't." Jade snapped, pulling her fingers away from him, rolling away from him so quickly that Travis was left dumbfounded and frozen beside her. "I'm not the one that broke this marriage. You shouldn't expect anything from me."

"But... but I don't. I'm just trying to show you that I care... " Travis blinked, completely confused. "... that I want this to work. But you're not even giving me a chance to try to make it up to you. I just want to show you that... That I love you, Jade."

"Well, Travis..." Jade's gaze dropped to the sheets between them, before the chill sound of her voice found the strength to utter, finally: "I'm just not sure that I... That I love you, anymore."

Travis' limbs went weak at his sides.

Though the words she spoke were something he'd guessed at for some time, hearing them aloud was more a shot to the heart then any bullet he could have taken. He waited, desperately, for her to add something more; to say that there was a reason why, one that he could disprove to fix everything that had gone wrong... but he began to wonder, now, if it really even had been him that was the problem--maybe, it was just them.

"I never even... did anything..." his dry tongue uttered softly, uncaring whether she heard them or not. Surprisingly, she did--but with her trust gone long before her love, she merely closed her eyes and turned away, hearing them only as lies.

The distance between them was small, physically, but oceans stood between the shores of their hearts. Something in them wanted to keep acting as if everything was alright, that what Jade had said had never been spoken--even Jade, as much as she'd wanted to say them for quite some time, began to wonder if they were even true. But, the cat was out of the bag; if she really did want to turn back now, it was already too late.

Though it hurt, he didn't shrug her away when her sleeping body drew close to his for warmth; 'I probably deserve it,' he thought to himself, disgusted.

But, his body shivered when he heard the sharp ringing of his phone in the other room.

Travis put it to his ear without even bothering to check who it was; at 2 in the morning, that sort of thing ceases to matter anymore.

"Hello?"

He listened to her voice; there was a poetry in her sobs that Travis couldn't recognize, but a bitter sweetness that he could. Though he was a little nervous Jade might waken, it faded when he heard his voice begin speaking without his consent.

"Just hold on, I'll be right there."

When the light from her doorway flooded onto his face, Travis was unable to see her face; her hair hung in thick blades across her cheek, and she bowed her neck away from him.

Travis reached out to try and grasp Lolly's arm, but she had already moved away by the time he did. Scowling, he turned and shut the door behind him, and then followed Lolly to her couch, where she was already sitting, her face buried in her hands.

"So, you might lose your job at City Hall over this?" Travis asked, after several minutes of Lolly timidly explaining why she'd called.

"Probably. You know politics, Travis. They smell one rotten sock and the whole drawer gets thrown out. The Governor's new hard stance on crime made people start to notice that my family has a long history of criminals, so now they're starting to think I'm influenced by that--and if I can't convince the man looking into my case otherwise... I may as well start putting my application in to every pancake house within 20 miles."

Lolly took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down as much as possible; but, when she felt Travis's hand reach out to brace her shoulder, she felt her chest heave into another sob, and her legs instinctly carry her away from the couch.

"I'm barely able to make the mortgage payments with this job as it is, Travis. If I lose it, we'll have to move, and my kids will be forced to live in closets smaller than the ones they have now... if we can even find anywhere for me to work in Twinbrook." Lolly aimlessly looked out the window, her eyes drifting over the tiny yard that may not be hers for much longer.

"Isn't there anything you can do?" Travis asked from the couch, rubbing the back of his neck in thought. "Your family is rich, you could ask them for money..."

"There's a reason I moved away from them in the first place. I love my family, but it's the principle of it, Travis. They are criminals. I l-love them, but I don't agree with them... if I do that, then I may as well c-confess to their accusations that I work for my family's agenda."

Travis hesitated for only a moment--but when her cries began to start again, he lifted himself from his seat and approached her, quietly, his hand extended to meet her arm. "Lolly," he spoke softly. "Lolly, if this happens, and you do get fired, I'll help you make you pay your bills for a while. It's the least I can do."

"No, Travis," Lolly said, almost spitefully. "I won't take charity from you. That's not why I asked you here."

"It's not charity Lolly, not when one of the people living under the roof is... is my son."

"Travis--" Lolly spun around, her back nearly leaning against the window she so forcefully tried to put distance between herself and him. "There's something you should know--"

"Lolly. Don't." He knew what she was going to say--and he didn't want to hear it. "Just... don't."

"No. Look. He--he's not yours. We both know he's not yours. Last week, I made certain. The paternity test came back negative--so... You're not obligated to come here, anymore."

Before Travis could open his mouth to respond, Lolly continued: "I know what you're going to say, and I really don't care. This isn't what I want, Travis. I'm not going to lie to my son to keep him happy, or lie to myself and hurt your family. I've made a lot of mistakes, and... and I'm paying the price, now. Karma--bites you... bites you in the..."

Lolly collapsed into tears again; Travis instinctly pulled Lolly into his arms, but at this point there was little he could say. She clearly wanted nothing from him, except to help tear herself down further... he frankly couldn't understand.

"Look," she sniffled into his shoulder. "I just asked you here to tell you that you don't need to c-come over anymore. It's better if you don't, anyways... B-better for Nolan... B-better for Jade... maybe she'll stop being so paranoid, now," she added with a light scoff.

"No. I'm not going to do that." Travis gently tilted Lolly's streaked face upwards, meeting her confused expression with the most concern that poor Travis had ever mustered in his entire life. "I love my children. All of them. Owen, Gracie, Sally... And Nolan. We'll tell him the truth, but I'm not going to stop coming. Every kid deserves a father figure in their life, and I'll be damned if yours doesn't have one because his mother made a mistake. I care about him..."

Travis paused, before--slightly hesitant--adding: "... and you."

"Don't joke with me, Travis," Lolly sobbed, licking her lips as she tried to turn away. "All I've done for the past 7 years is try to destroy your life because I'm so selfish. You can't care about someone like that."

"And you can't tell me not to care. We both made mistakes... we shouldn't have to pay for them forever." For a moment, Travis almost felt like laughing. "I've already gotten told how worthless my love is once, tonight... Don't do it again. Please."

"I..." Lolly paused, her body still shaking from hours of despair. "I won't."

It had been years since their last, true embrace, but her lips felt just like yesterday, like they did under the stars. Tonight, though, there was no drink, no nectar tainting his senses and impairing his judgement. It was strange, then, that it was now he truly acted on his impulses, when before it would have been easy to excuse. Easy to blame on the bottle.

But, at least now, he had no reason to deny his wife's accusations any longer.

---

The bell on the front door of the Blue Bottega jingled brightly as Bradley walked through it the first thing the next morning, a morning that was particularly wonderful for Brad as it was his only week-day off that week.

"Hey, is my mom around?" Brad asked cheerfully as he approached the front counter, realizing that Meredith was no where within eye or earshot.

"She's up in the Blue Room," the cashier answered with a nod, pointing his finger up the stairs. The 'Blue Room' was code for the 'Painting Room', Brad figured, so with a smile he waved in thanks and turned to bound up the stairs.

It was early enough that customers hadn't started pouring in yet, so Brad was lucky enough to catch his mother at her morning ritual: slathering a canvas with whatever first came to her mind.

"What is it, today? Your left foot, or your dream about world peace?" he asked teasingly; his sense of humor was miserable, but since his mother considered almost everything funny, he heard Meredith giggle as she cast a glance over her shoulder back at him.

"Just another abstract today, actually!" she smiled, putting down her brush so she could move the canvas out of the way.

"Oh it's so good to see you!" Meredith squee'd as she lept into her son's arms, as vibrant today as she was before her hair had gone all gray.

"Love the new haircut," he whispered into her ear as he squeezed her frail frame, hoping she didn't get too much paint on his shirt. "I'm just here for a minute though, mum--Alesha wanted me to pick up some supplies so I could do some fingerpainting with Margo this afternoon. Think I could get some?"

Her reaction, however, was not what he expected.

"Oh, Brad... I just don't know. We've been having so much go missing, lately." Meredith grabbed her head in a frenzy, which shook back in forth with the sudden paranoia that came flooding in. "First one of my employees runs off with a bunch of canvas' without telling me, then all sorts of things start disappearing--and then, of course, those darn crates in the garage get broken into... I don't know what to do, Brad! At this rate, I'm going to have nothing left!"

"Mom... Mom. Calm down," Brad said, reaching out a hand to brace his mom's shoulder. "That's not going to happen. All businesses go through a bit of theft now and then, it's usually nothing to be worried about."

"I don't know, Brad," Meredith shook her head. "Your father seemed awfully worried about the stuff in storage. I don't think he should be, because--well... there's something you should know, Brad."

"What's that?"

"Well... The last time Alesha was in here... I saw her snitch a couple of things. Nothing major, but... If it keeps up, I'm going to have to report her--and I don't want to have to do that. Can you talk to her, for me?"

At first, Bradley wasn't sure what to think; Alesha, stealing things? That was preposterous, and he knew his mom might be getting a little senile on top of the paranoia she already had before, but this was so far-fetched that it almost had to be based on truth somehow. But still--his wife? Really?

"I'll... talk to her, yeah," Brad said, though still deep in thought. "Just don't say anything to anyone else, alright? Especially Dad."

"No, no, of course not sweetheart. Besides, I'm sure Alesha meant no harm by it--I would've given the stuff to her if she'd asked, I'd just prefer if she did, from now on. Now--what paint colors were you needing?"

As soon as Bradley got home, he raced up the steps, where he heard the distant hum of Lilobot's processing core coming from.

"Hey, Lil, you up here? I wanted to ask you--" He stopped. Bradley stared, utterly confused by the sight before his eyes.

"Oooommmmmmmmm... Oooommmmmmmm..."

 "Lil, what are you doing?"

"I am practicing the ancient art of... yoga. Can you not tell?"
"I can tell, but... er... Why?"
"In order to promote balance, alignment, and a youthful vigor, of course!"
"Uh... right." Brad simply scratched his head in wonder; it was best if he just didn't ask.
"What was it you required, Mr. Kane?"

Brad was snapped back into reality by Lilobot's question. "Oh, well--have you noticed Alesha coming home with... stuff, lately? Like, not from the store?"

"Oh yes, sir! Mrs. Kane often returns home with various odds and ends of questionable origin, but to avoid confrontation, I am careful never to act as if I've seen anything! That is good, right?"

"Yeah--that's good, Lil. Thank you." Brad paused, but only briefly, before asking, "You wouldn't happen to know what she does with all that stuff, would you?"

"Of course, sir! Mrs. Kane always puts them up in that odd treehouse contraption she often complains that you haven't finished." Bradley smirked upon hearing Lil say that. When he didn't respond--he was frozen in deep thought--Lil asked, "May I continue re-aligning my chi, sir?"

"Oh, er--yes. You... go ahead and align your... chi..." So strange. He gave her a brief wave and then turned and descended back down the stairs.

Great. Just what Brad needed--a reminder that he wasn't getting any younger. Not only had he neglected to finish this treehouse, but the entrance into it was a pain in the royal patootie. He was going to have to remember, after all this was through, to commend Alesha on keeping in such good shape.

"Just... another..." Huff, huff. "Man, I really need to start working out mo--"

"--ooorree...." Brad's voice lost all it's air, nearly squeaking, as he looked down at what was now at his feet.

Well: at least, now, he knew his mother wasn't completely delusional...

... but what did that make his wife?!

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