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"The Archetype Association"

The Archetype Association

Author's Notes
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Intermission
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49

THE ARCHETYPE ASSOCIATION
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Abraham Lincoln Kieros was a broken man. He was helpless. He was weak.

Then Apocalypse came, and made him strong again.

He had been a soldier once, a lifetime ago, weaving his way through a foreign jungle to serve the needs of men who he never met, and shooting men who he had no quarrel with.

He didn't care.

He loved it.

But a hidden tripwire and a homemade grenade ended his military career, trapping him in a metal cocoon, a living death which was a constant agony. He lay there for years, his anger and resentment growing. All he had to think about was his glory days as a warrior, the thrill of combat, and the heroism of the dying. After enough time, he forgot about the boredom, the terror, and the horror.

Apocalypse came in the night and took him, then showed him that the pain that he had endured before was nothing. He took a parlor trick that Kieros thought was a good way to win a few extra drinks at a bar and amplified it to a phenomenal degree, making him capable of incredible destruction.

He became Apocalypse's dark paladin, flying through the air on a golden steed. He found new comrades, and knew that he had found his new purpose in life. He became what he was born for.

He was War.

But Apocalypse found new amusements, new obsessions. A man with one glowing eye now occupied all of his attention. War, who had always been faithful to him, was pushed aside in favor of a ragged group of men who were charged with determining just who the strong were.

War was intent on regaining the good graces of Apocalypse. After studying the massive amounts of records that were kept in the various bases that Apocalypse maintained, and learning how to control his power even more, he found the way.

The X-Men.

And one X-Man in particular.

The child was not hard to convince. She had been humiliated in her last encounter with those who followed Xavier's foolish dream, and had also sought greater mastery of her power, in order to ensure their victory.

They had planned to attract the attention of the X-Men by creating random chaos in a major city. They chose San Francisco because it would allow them to maximize their destruction, since the X-Men were based on the East Coast.

What they hadn't counted on was having the X-Men waiting for them when they got there.


"Jean, Bobby, get over here!" Logan barked into his communicator. "It's War and Famine!"

He turned to Rogue and Archetype. "Rogue, you take War. Rookie, you're with..." His face trailed off as he saw Archetype.

His burning eyes were glaring at both of the Horsemen, and his grip on his sword tightened. Logan could catch a whiff of his scent, and detected a hint of the rage that was present during his Danger Room session earlier that day.

"Get a grip, rookie!" he barked at him. "Famine is ours!"

Archetype nodded and vanished, reappearing on Famine's steed, grabbing her in a full nelson.

"What do you say to ending this before it gets violent?" he asked her before throwing her to the ground.

Famine glared at him, and the skin on Archetype's face tightened as her power took effect. He staggered slightly, but that was all. "My dear, you could starve me all day and it still wouldn't kill me." His eyes flashed, and he teleported Famine a few times, knocking her out.

Logan was impressed. "Good job."

Archetype tipped his hat to Logan in acknowledgment, then whirled as he heard an explosion behind him.


Rogue was not doing well against War. Their conflict had gone airborne, and every time she drew near him, he set off an explosion which threw her back. The explosions didn't hurt her, but stung like hell, and were starting to get on her nerves.

She was considering throwing something at him when she noticed that large parts of his steed were disappearing. She looked down at Archetype, and realized that he was teleporting them away in an attempt to ground War.

War started to panic when he realized what was happening, and jumped off the machine before it hit ground, rolling. He was on his feet a few seconds later, but Archetype pounced on him, grabbing War by the wrists and keeping his hands apart, effectively neutralizing his power. "Rogue, I could use a hand here!" he yelled.

Rogue dived down and took over, pinning War to the ground. "Smart move," she said approvingly to Archetype.

War shifted ineffectually in Rogue's grip, cursing.

"Now that's no language to use in front of a lady," Archetype said in a conversational tone.

"You weren't supposed to be here!" War spat. "How did you know!?"

"You're not the only ones with outside sources," Logan informed him as he stood over him, claws extended. "Now what's this all about?"

"Go to hell," War retorted.

"Not much of a conversationalist, is he?" Archetype commented.

War glared at him. "This is your fault!"

"Now that's a childish response," Archetype responded in a chiding tone.

War's answering glare burned with hate. "You think this is going to change anything? He's still waiting for you, you damn walking corpse!"

The glow of Archetype's eyes intensified as he grabbed War by the throat and lifted him up. "And I'm waiting for him," he growled.

"You're a dead man," War muttered.

"Not anymore," Archetype replied grimly as he signaled Rogue to grab War again.

War took that moment to break free from Archetype's grip and activate his teleporter. Famine vanished at the same time.

"They must have been linked," Logan commented.

"Any idea where they went?" Rogue asked Archetype.

He shook his head. "They used a different method than I do." He seemed angry.

"What's your problem?" Logan asked as the others arrived.

"This was too easy." He barely glanced at the other X-Men as they arrived. "I've seen the files on what those two are capable of, and there's no way they should have gone down that quickly."

"We'll talk about it on the trip back," Jean said. "The police will be here in a few minutes, and we have to be gone by then."

"No problem." His eyes flashed, and they were back in Peoples Park, under one of the covered picnic areas.

 As they walked back to the Blackbird, Bobby looked at Will closely. "You okay?"

Will nodded. "For now. Can you do me a favor when we get back?"

"Sure."

"Help me find a restaurant with an all-you-can-eat special. I'm going to drive the poor people into bankruptcy."


Most of the team slept on the way back to Westchester, since their bodies had never adjusted to Pacific time. Bishop flew the Blackbird, keeping an eye out for any commercial traffic. He had been trained by the XSE to stay awake for extended periods of time, and thus was not as drained as the others.

Rogue sat across from Will, both of them exhausted from the long day, but unable to sleep. She looked at him closely, worrying about the lines of fatigue on his face and the haggard appearance of his body.

"Problem?" he asked her in a soft whisper.

"You look like hell."

He shrugged. "I'll recover. I always do."

"Stop that!" she snapped.

"Stop what?"

"Stop acting like being hurt is something that's inevitable. Do you think I like watching you bleed?"

"Sorry," he said, abashed. "It's happened to me so often that I'm sort of used to it."

"You're getting used to pain?"

He shook his head. "You don't understand. Compared to what happened to me the first time, this was nothing."

Her jaw dropped. "You mean you remember all that?"

He nodded sadly. "Sort of. It's really not very distinct to me. The pain made things a bit hazy. If you don't mind, I'd rather not talk about it."

She nodded in response. "Why don't you get some sleep?"

"Too risky. I'm trying to keep my powers contained. If I start healing while we're airborne, I could fry the plane." He dug into the pocket on the side of the chair and pulled out a paperback. "I'll wake you when we're nearly there." he informed her.

"Okay," she said, her expression worried. She was asleep a moment later.


"And they simply vanished?" Xavier asked at their debriefing two hours later.

Jean nodded. "The power signature on the teleport was Apocalypse's."

"And you couldn't track them?" Henry asked Archetype politely.

"I think that their method involved quantum state tunneling rather than dimensional flux. I can't track something like that."

Henry pondered that a moment, nodding. "That narrows it down a bit at least. How is everyone physically?" he asked the team.

"He was the only one who took any damage," Bobby said, nodding towards Archetype.

"I'm fine, Doctor," Archetype said before Henry could speak. "I just need food and sleep - in that order."

"I'll look at you when you're up, then. Can you think of anything else, Charles?"

"No. Get some rest, everyone. You all have forty-eight hours of leave."

"We're going out to eat, Bobby," Rogue said as they got up. "Care to come along?"

"Who's buying?"

"I am," Will said.

"I'll drive."


The truck stop was nearly deserted, and they were seated in a booth in a matter of minutes. "Let's see," Will said to the waitress as he opened his menu, "I'll have the chicken fried steak special with the soup and salad bar, please. And three pitchers of Coke, as well."

"I'll have the turkey and stuffing," Bobby added.

"And I'll have the shepherd's pie," Rogue said.

After Will came back with a bowl of soup and a salad plate piled with everything from potato salad to orange gelatin, the waitress came back with their meals. Rogue and Bobby were stunned by the amount of food that Will was putting away. "How can you eat all that?" Bobby finally asked.

"Most of this is going to be burned away while I'm asleep," was Will's answer. "Besides, Famine hit me pretty hard. I've been ravenous since we left San Francisco."

"What did War mean when he said that Apocalypse was waiting for you?" Rogue asked.

"I don't know," he admitted. "My best guess is that Apocalypse had some information about me. I don't see how, though."

"There's that video file that Val had," she reminded him.

"That's true," he conceded.

"I say we stop talking about work," Bobby interjected. "We're off duty, remember?"

"Good point," Rogue agreed, noticing the fatigue in Will's face. "We should get home."

"Not without dessert," Will said firmly.


Rogue went straight to bed once they returned, since the large meal had made her drowsy. Her sleep was troubled, however, because she caught fragments of Will's healing state in her dreams. She finally got out of bed, frustrated, and marched off to his room. If his powers were going to be this distracting, she decided, than maybe he could heal at another location.

"Will," she said, knocking on the door, "you've got to get up." The door opened at her knock. It did not seem to have been tightly closed.

"Will?" she repeated, turning on the light.

His bed was empty, as was the room. She frowned, then went back to her room, turning on the computer and running a location search for him.

She entered the study hall of the men's wing a minute later, turned on the lamp, then did a double take. Will was standing in front of the main window, his back to her, totally nude.

"Uh, Will," she said tentatively, "don't you think you should put something on?"

He didn't answer her. She moved over to the other side of the room, searching his face carefully, noticing the glow in his eyes. It was clear to her in a moment that he wouldn't hear anything that she said. She thought a moment, then went to his room, grabbed his robe, and came back, draping it over his shoulders. She then sat down in a chair and watched him, waiting.

After a few minutes, she heard the rumble of distant thunder. She looked out the window and saw that storm clouds were moving in from the southeast at a rapid pace. It seemed like a solid wall of cloud covered the sky in a few short minutes.

"You're out there somewhere," Will said in a low voice which was almost a whisper. His voice was strangely abstracted, as if he was leaving a message on a machine. "You're out there, and you're waiting for me."

He smiled wryly. "Well, I'm waiting for you, too."

"You know what's going to happen just as well as I do. It doesn't matter how many people you throw between us. It doesn't matter how much you try to avoid it. It doesn't matter how much you run. In the end, it's just you and me."

A moment later, lightning struck just outside the mansion. Rogue jumped at the sudden clap of thunder. The noises she heard outside the room told he that the other X-Men had been awakened.

Logan strode in a moment later, clad in one of his kimonos. "What the hell..." he growled. Rogue waved him to silence.

"Know this, En Sabeh Nur," Will said in a menacing tone, his voice acquiring the same echoing timbre that Rogue had noticed at Glastonbury, "I stand against you, from now until the end of days. I will feel your blood on my hands and your weight on my blade. I will crush your dreams and leave them to wither in the dust. And when your time comes, I will be the one to send you to the reward that awaits you."

The lightning struck again, closer to the mansion this time, and Rogue could feel the boom of the thunder through the window.

"Who am I?" Will said softly. "You already know."

"I am the Archetype. I am the Cornerstone. I. Am. Your. Death."

The answering thunder strike shattered every window in the mansion.


"And he went right back to bed?" Ororo asked incredulously. Both teams were assembled in the War Room, most of them still in their nightclothes.

"He's out like a light," Logan confirmed. "I'm not entirely sure he was awake, 'Roro. He may've been sleepwalking."

"That might explain why he wasn't dressed," Betsy added.

"Those were his exact words?" Xavier pressed.

"'I am your death,'" Rogue confirmed. "Professor, could he do that?" Her face showed a dawning fear. "Is he powerful enough to actually kill Apocalypse?"

He shook his head. "Not from what I've seen so far."

"We should keep in mind that he never said when any of this would happen," Jean pointed out. "From what we've seen of him up to now, I've got a feeling that he's going to be around for a very long time. The things that he was talking about may not occur for centuries. That might give him enough time to become a threat to Apocalypse."

"That's certainly possible," Xavier conceded.

"There's something else we should consider," Henry mused. "According to what we've observed so far, we know that his power, at higher levels, causes the disruption of advanced technology. That would serve as a highly effective defense against the weaponry that Apocalypse seems so fond of using, neutralizing one of his greatest advantages."

"Good point," Warren noted. "Every time we've come up against him, Apocalypse has always softened us up with some kind of gadget before dealing with us himself."

"We should keep Jean's theory in mind," Bishop said. "I don't remember any major battles involving Apocalypse from my day."

"But Archetype's simply being here may mean that we've already diverged from your history, Bish," Bobby informed him.

"I don't think we're going to get anything done at this hour," Xavier noted. "We'll talk about it in the morning. It might be a good idea to see just how much of his little speech Will remembers."

As they all headed back to their rooms, Rogue stayed behind. "Professor," she asked, "can I talk to you alone for a few minutes?"

"Of course," he answered. "Why don't we go to my room?"

"Why, Professor!" she exclaimed in feigned shock.

"Please don't, Rogue," he answered in a pained voice. "It's been a long day."

"Sorry," she apologized as they waited for the elevator.

They were silent until they entered Xavier's bedroom. "Just give me a minute to get back in bed," he requested.

She nodded, sitting down in a chair. She knew better than to offer her assistance. Piotr had done so once, when she had recently joined the team, and the tongue-lashing that he had received in return was still considered the stuff of legend.

"All right," Xavier said as he straightened the sheets, "what's troubling you, Rogue?"

"It's Will. I think he's pushing himself too hard. When he and I were talking on the trip back from San Francisco, he treated his injuries like they were nothing. No," she corrected herself, "that's not quite right. He treated them like they were something to be endured, not avoided. It's like he doesn't have a self-preservation instinct. Logan told me that he thought Will is so devoted to his ideals, he might hurt himself to prove his loyalty to them."

Xavier frowned a moment, lost in thought. "I may have to do something that I've been reluctant to consider," he admitted.

"What's that?"

"My background checks on Will have found that he saw a therapist on a regular basis before his accident. I could ask him to release his file to me as a professional courtesy."

"Could he do that?"

"Technically, Will is under my care, and he's already given me permission to share information about him as long as I'm discreet. I think I'd need his verbal permission for this, though. I'll have to look into it."

"Does the fact that he's seen a therapist before worry you at all?"

He shook his head. "He has a counseling degree, remember? Many programs in that field require their students to undergo counseling themselves as a way of relieving the stress that the job places on the mind."

She nodded. "What's your honest opinion of him, Professor?"

Xavier sighed. "I really don't have an answer to give you yet. The man is so contradictory that he has me totally confused."

"You and me both. Sometimes I feel like I'm dealing with two different men."

"You may very well be, Rogue. Will Riley and Archetype seem to be two very different people."

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it a moment. How has he been acting since yesterday?"

"He's been distant, cold, aggressive, and overall, not very nice. Well, he's been nice to me," she amended.

"Has he been like this before?"

"Not that I've seen."

"I think that when what he calls 'The Chorus' is very active in him, he personality changes as a result. The mental impressions that I've been getting from him over the last two days have been markedly different from what I usually feel."

"In what way?"

"Usually, I get waves of chaos and confusion, like what I used to get from Kitty. Since that little encounter in the kitchen with Ororo, however, I can't get through at all. It's like every shield the man possesses has been raised."

"Do you think he's trying to hide something?"

"Yes, but not from me."

"From Apocalypse, then?"

"Probably." He yawned. "I'm sorry, Rogue, but I have to get back to sleep."

"What are you going to do about the windows?"

"We'll construct some new ones in the morning. Just clean up the mess and go to bed. I've got a feeling that tomorrow's going to be a long day."


"I what!?"

"You told Apocalypse you were going to kill him," Rogue repeated patiently.

"And then all the windows shattered," Will said, acting as if he was waiting for the joke to end.

"That's right," Logan confirmed.

Will put his hand to his temple. "I'm not saying that I don't believe you, but I don't remember any of this."

"We think you were sleepwalking," Xavier informed him.

Will considered that for a moment. "I was acting out a dream? There's a thought."

"Do you remember anything from last night?"

"The last thing I remember is going to bed."

"Charles and I will see if we can get anything during your next session with us," Jean informed him.

"I'd appreciate it," Will replied. He glanced at the kitchen. "I'd better get started on breakfast."

"You're off duty, remember?" Xavier reminded him.

"Damn, I'd forgotten that. Well, in that case, I'm going back to bed."

"Not just yet," Henry told him. "I want to give you your physical first."

After Henry declared him fit for duty, Will went straight to bed and slept for six hours. After taking a quick shower, he dressed in jeans, a banded collar shirt, and a vest, and went looking for Rogue and Ororo.

"Storm," he asked, "are you on duty right now?"

"No," she replied. "I am free until night watch. Why?"

"I have to go into New York to get some things for the service that I told you about earlier. I was wondering if you'd like to join me."

"That would be nice," Ororo said, standing up. "Just let me get my purse."

"Can I come along?" Rogue asked.

"Sure," he shrugged.

Ten minutes later, Ororo pulled the Volvo sedan out of the garage, and they were on their way. "Which exit should we take?" Ororo asked Will once they were on the main highway to New York City.

He frowned. "I really don't know. The place we want is on the three hundred block of East Ninth Street, if that's any help."

Ororo thought a moment. "All right. I think I know a way to get there."

An hour later, they found a spot in a parking garage and walked the rest of the way towards the store. As they were about to enter, Will stopped them for a moment.

"Just thought you should know," he said. "Some of the people who come here tend to be a little on the flaky side. We may be in here a little while, so just prepare yourselves." He opened the door.

They were instantly assaulted by the smell of incense in the air and music which they took to be Indian over a speaker on one wall. "Good afternoon," the woman at the counter said in a pleasant voice, "can I help you with anything?"

"We'd like to look around for a while first, if that's all right," Will replied with a smile.

"Of course. I'm Crystal. Let me know if you need any help."

"Thank you." Will led them back towards the rear of the store, scanning the bookshelves as he did so. "Just wander around if you like," he told Ororo and Rogue. "I'll be looking through the books for a while. Ororo, I usually use incense in my services. You might want to look through the racks back there and see if there's anything that you like."

"Good idea," Ororo agreed. She spent the next few minutes comparing the various scents, finally deciding on sandalwood and rose.

Rogue, meanwhile, looked at the various items of jewelry in the cases, finally choosing what the tag called a fairy ball. It was a small silver sphere containing tiny chimes which tinkled softly whenever the sphere moved. She paid a few cents more to have it hung on a green silk cord.

A few minutes later, Will decided that he had everything he needed. After he talked to Ororo regarding her choices of incense, adding pine to her selections, he started to make his way towards the front counter. He was blocked, however, by a woman who appeared to be in her early fifties.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, "but I just had to talk with you for a minute. Did you know you have an incredibly strong aura?"

"I wasn't aware of it, no," Will replied in a bemused voice.

The woman started moving towards Will, then, seeing his discomfort at such proximity, stepped back. "I could see it from across the room. I've never seen a purple that strong before."

"Purple, you say?" Will asked, raising one eyebrow.

"I had to look twice to make sure I was seeing it correctly. You've got a lot of untapped potential."

"So everyone keeps telling me," he said wryly. "Nice talking to you." He nodded to her respectfully and continued on his way, meeting Rogue and Ororo at the counter.

"What was that all about?" Rogue asked him as he paid for his purchases.

"Ask Xavier," he suggested. "I wouldn't want to spoil it for you."


"Purple? You're sure she said purple?" Xavier asked her when they had returned.

"That's right," Rogue confirmed.

Xavier frowned for a minute, rubbing his chin. "I'll have to look something up," he said as his chair started floating towards the library. After a few minutes of searching through the shelves, he pulled a rather battered hardback off the shelves. "A book on auras and the chakras," he explained. "I picked it up back when I was a world traveler, before I founded the X-Men."

After leafing through the book for a while, he found what he was looking for. "Here we are. According to this, the purple chakra is associated with the spiritual world."

"That would make sense," Ororo commented.

"It's also associated with inspiration and insight."

"He told me once that he's been a writer," Rogue offered. "Could that be a connection?"

"Maybe," Xavier admitted. "It's something to think about, at least."

"Did he mention the service that he was planning to you yet?" Ororo asked.

He nodded. "I told him that it wouldn't be a problem, as long as he cleans up after himself. He'll be making a small fire, but he said it'll be contained."

"And I can put it out if necessary."

"What's he doing now?"

"He's helping Hank with dinner."


"Bobby," Henry complained as Will walked in, "I told you I wanted medium clams, not medium shrimp!"

"I'm sorry, Hank, but they were out of clams. I thought that maybe you could modify the recipe."

"You can," Will supplied.

"I can?" Henry asked with a frown.

Will nodded. "Bobby, are those plum tomatoes that I bought still in the refrigerator?"

Bobby checked. "Right here."

"Good. Hank, could you peel the shrimp, please?"

"All right," Henry agreed. "What are you planning?"

"You'll see," Will replied as he sifted through the spice cabinet. He diced the tomatoes, then placed a large pot of water on the stove, placing two boxes of linguini next to it.

"What you'll want to do, Hank, is steam the shrimp, then place the cooked pasta in a pot along with the shrimp, the tomatoes, and a cup of white wine. Mix everything up, then cook it until everything's hot."

"How much seasoning should I put in?"

"Put in a pinch each of salt and cayenne pepper."

"All right. Where did you learn this recipe?"

"I just made it up."


"Great dinner, guys," Logan burped as he pushed his plate away. "Did Will help you out at all?"

"I didn't cook a thing."

"You're kidding."

"It's the absolute truth."


"Will?"

"Yes, Rogue?" he asked as he looked up from his writing pad.

"Can I come to your service?"

"If you'd like," he shrugged. "I didn't think you'd be interested."

"I thought it might be a way to get to know you a little better," she said as she sat beside him in one of the alcoves of the study hall.

"How do you mean?"

"I'm becoming convinced that you don't see the world the way the rest of us do. Maybe this can give me some idea of what things are like for you."

"Maybe," he agreed.

"Have you remembered anything from the other night?"

He shook his head. "I wish I did. It sounded pretty interesting."

"Were Jean and the Professor able to find anything?"

"They couldn't even get past my defenses. I think that Xavier is starting to get annoyed."

"Sometimes the Professor gets a bit arrogant. You're teaching him a bit of humility."

"He needed that arrogance, Rogue. You don't build up a fortune, start a school, and develop a strike force by being humble."

"Good point. What are you working on?"

"Just putting together some ideas for a story."

"You're still writing? Where do you find the time?"

"I try to make the time. I have to write every now and then."

"Back when I was with the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants..."

"And you could say that with a straight face..."

"Hush. Pyro - his real name's St. John - was a writer. He was pretty popular, as I remember. He said that writing was a painful process, but that it was more painful not to write."

"He stole that from Heinlein. He was right, though."

"Have you ever had anything published?"

"Nothing that I'll admit to."

"That bad?"

"For a while I was cranking out some really awful stuff just to pay the bills, back when I had to build up a nest egg to start my investing."

"Are you up to doing anything tonight?"

"I'm a little tired, to be honest. I'll probably be heading to bed soon."

She nodded. "How's your writing coming along?"

"Slowly. This latest chapter's been driving me crazy. I'm just going to sleep on it and see what I come up with in the morning."

"What did that woman at the bookstore mean?" she asked suddenly.

"Every once in a while, I run into a mystic who tells me that I've got some sort of destiny to fulfill. I just humor them, then get on with my life."

"Isn't that a little risky?"

"It keeps me on my toes. Besides, if I worry about things too much, I'll drive myself crazy. I'll just deal with things as they happen." He yawned. "I think I'll hit that bed now."

"Can you promise me something before you do?"

"It depends on what you want."

"Tell me if you're having any problems. We are supposed to be a couple, remember? I want us to be able to share things with one another."

He was silent for a moment. "I'll try," he replied, "but I don't know how well I can keep that promise. I've been keeping some of my secrets for a long time, and it's second nature to me by now."

"I understand. Good night." She smiled as she watched him leave the room.

 

Continued in Chapter 23

 


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