Part Eight
Slaying the Dragon

Ben scanned the restaurant to see if anyone he knew was there, which was entirely likely, and to see if the booth he had requested had the right amount of privacy. Sixes and Sevens was known for its exclusivity; there was a whole room of nothing but dimly-lit booths which were used for special transactions and meetings, accessible to only a select number of people. One of the select this afternoon was the District Attorney, who did not care to be noticed.
Earlier that morning, he had left a note for Claire along with some flowers as a welcome-back present, and told her to see no one, just read up on the files he left and meet him here for lunch at one in the afternoon. He also told her, in the note, to clear her afternoon in case she had any intentions of either leaving early or getting a head start on new cases. He told her he was glad she was back, but that they had much to discuss and not very much time to discuss it in. He was brisk, efficient, and entirely within his limits. But he knew Claire's curiosity would be aroused.
Still, she had kept to her instructions. Ben had told his secretary Linda to buzz him if she left her office all morning -- Linda had a clear view down the hallway -- but nothing had come to Ben during those endless early Monday hours, and he had left alone for Sixes and Sevens at a quarter of one.
She was shown to the table at ten minutes after one, and Ben stood for her. She looked radiant still, lighting up the dim room with her guileless grin and open arms. Ben gave her a hug and she wagged a finger at him. "One day back from my honeymoon and I'm getting flowers and mysterious notes and meeting men in dim restaurants," she winked at him. "I tell you, if I were Duffy, I'd be suspicious."
"Yes, well, you had your chance," Ben tossed back at her. At this moment, Claire Duffy -- nee Kincaid -- felt like the only sane thing in his existence. "How was the honeymoon, then?"
"Caleb got food poisoning two days before we left," she said with a slightly strained smile, "and is still recovering. If you had come out of your cave at all this morning, I could have told you that."
Ben stifled a smile. "Jesus, Claire, you never have a dull moment. How was it otherwise?"
He let her prattle on about Switzerland, and Tuscany, and how everything was so austere and spacious, how the people were kind and the food -- except for that one meal of bad salmon Caleb ingested -- was fabulous. They ordered their lunch, and then she went into specifics. Nearly everything had gone off famously, although when they had first arrived the man had not been around to give them the keys to the villa they had rented, and they spent their first night on the beach. Beyond that, "a glorious time was had by all," she grinned, and leaned over the table at Ben. "Now, tell me. What's the big secret?"
Ben laughed. "Where to even start, Claire, where to even begin." He fixed his gaze on her and stabbed his salad. "Have you got your seatbelt on?"
She raised an eyebrow and spooned some soup. "I'm happy, I'm well-rested, I'm back at my favorite job. I can handle everything you throw at me."
"First," Ben began, "there are a few developments at home. Clarence died yesterday."
"Oh, Ben," she said, kindly. "I'm so sorry. You had him a long, long time. He was a beautiful dog."
Ben nodded slowly. "He lived well those last few weeks. He really loved Benjy."
"I've never had a dog, Ben, but if I did, Clarence was the one I would have wanted."
"He just got old, Claire. These things happen. Benjy's all right with it, I think." Ben turned his fork over absently.
"And how is Benjy? Did you bring him in to work yet?"
"No, Claire. I told you I didn't think that was necessary."
"You're embarrassed," she stated.
Ben flashed his eyes at her. "I most certainly am not, Claire."
"Then why won't you be seen with him?"
Ben looked away. "Can we save this argument for another time?"
She put her spoon down. "All right. For now. But otherwise, how is he?"
"He's doing fine, considering."
"Considering....what?"
"Considering he knows pretty much everything there is to know about me, Alexa, and himself."
Claire covered her mouth. "Ben, you did tell. I didn't think you were listening to me."
He smiled. "I was listening. But that's not how it happened. He asked me."
She was quiet for a moment. "Incredible. So you told."
"I told. He didn't say anything for a long time, all the next day. I expected him to throw things at me, or scream, or make some kind of scene of it, like all the other boys you'd see on television. But Benjy's not like any other boy."
"Of course not," Claire said. "He has your genes."
Ben rested his chin on his hand. "He called me 'dad.'" He shook his head. "And it meant more than I ever expected it would."
She rested her hand over his. "Bravo, Ben. You did it."
He sighed and let them take the rest of his salad away. "That," he said, "is the good news. And the only personal news -- I haven't heard from either Mike or Alexa in some time."
"So...the next bit is bad, and it's about work."
"There you go, Claire, I knew I had you around for a reason." Ben sat back and folded his arms. "Last Friday I had a visit. From Jack. We went over his caseload, just as we would any other meeting. But when he was done with that, he let me in on a little secret I never really quite connected. You see, I knew the two of you had...been an item, once, and I know it's long over. But you see, Claire, I never knew exactly when you two had become so close. He let me know, in no uncertain terms, that what you knew about myself and Alexa during the Page trial became his knowledge. I had always wondered, exactly, how he had ended up menacing Alexa at the Broadway show I attended with her, but it was just one of those things that slipped my mind at the time. What did he say...from my lips to his ears, that was how information flowed during the trial. And he informed me that I have you to thank for that."
Claire's food had turned to sand in her mouth. "Ben," she said, "it was so long ago...I was...confused and thought you were throwing the case. I didn't know you so well." She stared at him, concerned. "I did speak out of turn. I am guilty of that. And I apologize, because it was wrong. But it was so long ago...I can't exactly see how it impacts today. "
"Claire, listen to me," Ben said. "I don't blame you. I was difficult to be around those days, and while my esteem for you went way down when I first heard you were with McCoy, you've managed to reclaim any lost points since. There is little you could do at this late date to convince me that you are anything but exceptional at your job. No, the bad news came later. Jack went on to tell me that, thanks to his own logic and not to someone he happened to be sleeping with at the time, he had deduced my connection to Benjy. Not that there was much to figure out; I brought Benjy to the wedding, anyone could see for themselves. That was my fault, though I suppose seeing Jack there had been a surprise to me, based on your history with him."
"I had to have him there," Claire said. "Even if you win this election, he's got the next one sewn up and I need this job. You know my agenda. I couldn't not invite him."
Ben shrugged. "We do what we have to do. It doesn't really matter. He took the high ground and said he knew all about Benjy, and was prepared to use the fact of him against me in any electoral race. He actually said, and I quote, 'You should have kept your bastard in the closet a little longer.'"
Claire went pale. "No," she said. "He's not that desperate."
Ben nodded.
"What did you say to him?"
"Before or after I hit him?"
Claire's mouth formed a wide 'O.' "You finally slugged Jack McCoy and you did it without me around? Ben, I hate you. I love you. That's wonderful."
"Well, it felt immature and foolish, later. During it I was so angry I couldn't see straight." He stared at his sandwich. "It didn't matter, though. He has his plan all worked out."
"Plan, Ben?"
"He told me if I don't withdraw for re-election he'll drag my name and Benjy's through the mud. He'd leave out Logan, because he needs cops on his side, but our pictures would be everywhere, all of the sources would be, presumably, super-secret and unnamed. I don't know how much of that he could do, or even would do, but I can't risk it. I'm not running, and on Friday I'm officially withdrawing from the race. That's the deadline date."
"Ben, you can't," she gasped. "You can't let him win, not this way. It's inhuman. He doesn't deserve to win."
"He seems to think he has divine right to it."
"This is awful."
Ben smiled grimly, and nodded. "And yet, there may be a light at the end of the tunnel, Claire. Finish your quiche and I'll tell you about my proposition."
"Are you going to proposition me, Ben Stone?" she cocked her head at him and grinned.
"As a matter of fact," Ben said in all seriousness, "I am."

---

Friday came almost too quickly.
Benjy stepped from the Town Car and peered up at the side entrance to the towering Hogan Place building, tarnished art deco brass and high windows, and waited for Ben. Today, he could already sense, was going to be magic. First, it was a school day, and for no other reason than to come see Ben and Auntie Claire at work he was getting the whole day off. At home that morning Ben had woken him up a half hour earlier so there would be no chance of oversleeping, and Benjy had been told he had to dress up if he was going to work in the DA's office, so he had located his one good suit and put it on, clipping the tie in place, and combed his hair down neatly. Ben had come in his room later and grinned proudly, smoothing down the jacket shoulders. "Perfect," he said, "I think they'll let you in now."
The car ride had been unremarkable, but when they exited the ferry a large black Lincoln had been waiting there for both of them, complete with driver who held the door open as they slid in. "Wow," Benjy had told Ben, bouncing up and down on the seat. "Do you get this every day?"
"I get it if I want it," Ben had told him. "Today, I think we needed it."
Now, outside the office building, Ben rounded the car and leaned over his son, straightening out his tie and took his hand. "You remember what I told you."
Benjy nodded. "Be polite to everyone and watch you to know what to do. Don't talk unless someone talks to me first. It feels like church."
Ben smiled at him. "We're not usually this uptight, but today is...unusual."
"Because I'm here?" Benjy grinned.
"Yes, that must be it."
And they walked inside the building, through the metal detectors, down the long hallway.
Everyone recognized Ben; he had been there longer than most of them had been alive and everyone greeted him with a nod or a "Morning." Benjy was impressed and felt like he was someone special, too, to be so closely associated with the person everyone acknowledged as soon as he came in the room. "Being a DA's cool, dad," Benjy whispered as they stood waiting for the elevators.
Behind them, four or five voices talking loudly shattered the morning calm of the lobby, their shoes stepping heavily on the marbled floor, their tones excited and flustered. Ben turned slightly and saw them pause several yards from the elevator banks and watched as Jack McCoy, surrounded by his media agents and campaign officer, nodded at pieces of paper thrust under his face. He had scheduled his press conference for ten that morning, and obviously the last minute preparations were keeping him busy.
The elevator made a pinging sound and the door slid open near where Ben and Benjy stood. Jack, distracted, turned to the sound of the noise, the only noise louder than his own group, and caught Ben and Benjy standing in the entranceway of the elevator. He lost all expression as Ben leaned down and said something to Benjy, who waved at Jack. Then the two of them boarded the elevator and the doors slid closed behind them.
Whatever had possessed Stone to bring the kid in here today? Jack stared at the elevators dully, trying to puzzle it out. And for the first time since he had spoken to Stone a week ago, McCoy began to feel slightly concerned.

---

 

"This is your office?" Benjy asked as he walked out on to Ben's floor and caught his first glimpse of the bustling, rushed atmosphere. Cubicles lined the hallway, phones rang, lawyers dashed up and down corridors, keyboards clacked out a subdued rhythm. Voices, everywhere. From the moment they stepped off the elevator, everyone had something to say to Ben.
"Not quite," Ben told his son, "mine is at the end of the hall. But we have to run the gauntlet to get to it."
On the way he was handed a folder, given his messages, and asked if he cared for coffee. Benjy lagged behind, trying to see what everyone was doing, and finally caught up to Ben at an intersection. Claire stuck her head out of her office down the hall to see what the commotion was and saw Benjy, who waved.
"Ben!" Claire called to him, and he turned. She grinned at him. "Finally."
Ben tilted his head at her. "All things come to those who wait..." he called back.
"Not everyone," she told him, and gave him the thumbs up. "Can I borrow Benjy?"
"I'll send him down once we get settled."
They passed by Linda, Ben's secretary, and Ben introduced her to Benjy. "He's here to see how everything works."
Linda, who knew when to speak and when not to, nodded. "Your meeting with the Mayor is in fifteen minutes."
Inside the office, Benjy turned around several times to take it all in. "Whoa," he said in a hushed voice. "This place is great."
Ben's office, which it would be for only a few months more after today, was one of the better ones in the city. Warm and cozy, with darkwood paneling and broad, wall-lining bookshelves, it was decorated with an enormous main desk at the back and soft, red leather chairs and a sofa on the opposite end. Benjy took a seat in the chair Ben normally sat in to brief the EADAs, and Ben let him stay. "So, this passes your test?" Ben asked him.
"Oh, yeah," Benjy said. "You could live here, you could sleep here. This is huge." He shifted to the sofa and stared out the window, standing up on his knees. "Great view, too."
"Well, it works for me."
"So what do we do first?"
Ben had hung their coats up on his rack and taken a seat behind his desk, flipping through some messages and leftover papers from the day before. "What I do, Benjy, is get through my meetings for the day. What you are going to do is sit very quietly and watch."
"That's it?"
"For now, yes." He rooted in his desk drawer and pulled out a legal pad and a pen. "Have you ever met the Mayor?"
"No way," Benjy said, coming over to the desk, which reached chest-level for him, and accepted the paper and pen. "Do we get to go to City Hall?"
"He's coming here," Ben said, "because we both have to be at a press conference after we speak. All I want you to do is wait in the corner there, just sit in the chair and write down any questions you have, so you can ask me them all later. Maybe at lunch. Yes, I think lunch will be an ideal time for that kind of thing. And no matter what you hear me say, or what you hear the mayor say, remember you're a guest here."
"Okay," said Benjy, somewhat disappointed in Ben's lack of faith in his behavior skills.
"I know you'll be fine," Ben said. "I just want to make sure."
About ten minutes later, Linda buzzed and the Mayor and two advisors strode into the room. The Mayor shook hands warmly with Ben. "We should have had a breakfast meeting, Stone," the Mayor said. "You know how I detest these wood shoeboxes you have for offices in this building."
"So requisition us something new," Ben smiled at the Mayor. "That's your job."
The Mayor laughed, a booming cackle, and sat down heavily in the sofa. He'd been doing this for nearly ten years now, and he liked Stone, even if he was a little too quiet. Acted incredibly WASP-y, but he knew for a fact his parents had been Irish. So who could figure? The mayor himself had grown up in the Bronx, and had an innate skill for detecting bullshit and rooting it out. Ben gave him no bullshit. So he trusted him. Suddenly, he noticed the room had a fifth member in it. "Stone, you circumventing the child labor laws or something?"
Ben circled around his desk and took his seat in his customary red leather chair. Benjy had found a folding chair outside and sat quietly in it, watching everything. "This is my son, Benjy."
The Mayor raised his eyebrows but said nothing. Nothing in his records indicated Ben had a kid, except for the young lady in Maryland. This was something his advisors had obviously missed; they were going to have a dressing-down later. In the meantime, he could be gregarious. "Good morning, young Ben." The Mayor offered his hand and Benjy stood, solemnly taking it in his. "So you came to see your old man at work."
Benjy darted his eyes between the two of them. "Ben's not so old," he said.
The Mayor laughed heartily. "Good one, kiddo, good one."
Ben crossed his legs and covered his mouth with his hand, smiling. "He's my notes-keeper for today," he told the Mayor as Benjy slipped back to his seat. "Anything you say may be written down."
"I'll keep that in mind." The laughter faded from the Mayor's face and he grew serious. "So Ben, down to brass tacks here. What's this I hear about you pulling out from re-election today?"
"Time for some new blood," Ben told him. "And I want to spend more time with my family."
The Mayor raised his eyebrows. There was a stink here, something he was not familiar with in Ben's office. "Now, Stone, I know you better than this. I knew Schiff before you. Neither one of you dicked around with City Hall then, and I don't want you doing it now. What are you up to?"
Ben leaned forward. "Nothing that I shouldn't be. It's my prerogative not to run. What I need you here for is to assist in the transition. You're coming to McCoy's press conference after this, so all you have to do is nod along with me."
"McCoy's running unopposed without you, Stone. He won't get, and doesn't need, me."
"That's not entirely true." And Ben began to explain.

---

Amy Quinton turned around, feeling a tug on her suit jacket, and was about to frown at whatever jerk cameraman was trying to flirt with her now, but saw only a small, strawberry-blond headed boy offering her a piece of paper. "Here, Ma'am," he told her. "Read this."
Quinton, a reporter with the NBC affiliate in Manhattan, did not expect to be handed an official memo from the DA's office by a ten year old boy, and she glanced suspiciously down at him. In a strange way, he kind of looked like the DA. "What's this?" she barked at him.
"Read it," Benjy told her. "It's from Ben Stone."
Quinton watched the boy scamper off into the crowd of reporters that had filled the Hogan Place conference room, handing out announcements to all of them -- the New York Times, the Post, the Tribune, the other television affiliates, NY1, everyone. All who were waiting for the announcement that Jack McCoy was actually going to run for DA against the incumbent Stone. It wasn't like this had never happened before, but when it did the stakes were high and political puppeteering was rampant. Nobody liked to miss the show. Stone had been in office for a while, and had done a fine job managing things, but McCoy was apparently not going to wait for him to decide to retire, and was not going to make this a bloodless coup. Stone was liked, but not much of a personality in the political scene, whereas McCoy had as many enemies as he did friends, and could be flamboyant both in and out of the courtroom. He had a Kennedyesque charm to him, something wholesome yet troubled, and was someone who could absolutely make a lot of trouble if he wanted to. Quinton had long thought McCoy had his eyes on the governor's seat, but his time was growing short. Governors were young and aiming for the Senate these days, not sixty year-old DAs. She scanned the memo, which was dated for that day. It asked that the reporters remain after McCoy's conference, as Ben Stone would be having one of his own to discuss his political plans afterwards, in the same room for the convenience of the television cameras.
Quinton frowned, and leaned over to the NY1 reporter. "What d'you think this means?"
He shrugged. "Maybe Stone isn't going to run after all. That's the rumor."
She made a face. "Come on, Stone doesn't want McCoy in office. Why would he hand it to him?"
The other reporter shook his head. "Stick around and we'll know after ten-thirty, I guess."
At five past ten, Jack McCoy, dashing in his dark gray suit and severe red tie, strode up to the makeshift low stage in the conference room and rested some papers on the podium. Off to the side, out of camera sight he located Claire and Caleb standing and watching, and he nodded at them for their show of support. Claire was looking particularly officious today, her longish black hair done up in a sweeping bun that was neither severe nor ostentatious, and her suit set off the contours of her body without seeming to give anything away. Jack realized he had not noticed her lately; now that she was married she seemed even more alluring, and once he was in charge he made a mental note to test the waters with her again. But he did not see anyone else from the main office there; he had not really expected Ben to show, and in fact that was not part of the deal, but it might have been all right had Stone decided to make his position in the manner of supporting Jack McCoy clear to all this press. No matter, Jack thought, and turned to the crowd, peering into the bright klieg lights. "Good morning," he said, his voice projecting as he slipped into his jury-presentation mode. "I thank you for coming out today."
Claire slid her eyes at Caleb and he took her hand, shaking his head. What an asinine jerk, he thought again for the thousandth time, marveling at the pomposity and self-congratulatory air McCoy had. He looked over at Claire and smiled. And what a fall he's up for.
At ten-twenty Jack stopped speaking, and asked for questions. There were a few, and when he had addressed them all he thanked everyone for coming, stepping away from the microphone. He frowned slightly when none of the reporters shifted position and started breaking down the cameras, and then one of his advisors shoved a memo into his hand. "They passed these out just before you came in the room," the advisor said breathlessly. "There." And he pointed.
The clock turned ten-thirty just then, and at precisely that moment the other side door to the conference room opened and in strode Ben Stone, without advisors, but with the Mayor a few steps behind him. They both stepped on to the low stage, and the Mayor rested his back against the wall, knowing his presence was all that was needed. Jack turned to Claire and Caleb, but Claire was gone, replaced with Ben Stone's brat, who stood close next to Caleb. Jack backed away from the stage, and watched, a slight chill running down his back.
Ben slid on his reading glasses, glanced at his cards for a moment, then put both away. "Morning, everyone," he said. "Sorry to keep you here longer than you intended, but we had a little more to add, and since you were here anyway..." he shrugged self-deprecatingly.
Quinton, leaning forward, smiled despite herself. This wasn't the Stone she had seen before; this one was playful and amusing. Of course he was going to run again.
Ben rubbed the space between the bridge of his nose and his eye and smiled at the crowd, most of whom he could not see. "As some of you may have heard already, one of our best EADAs has decided to run for my job. That's certainly well within his rights, and I wish him luck in his endeavor. But over the past few weeks it has occurred to me that I have been doing this a very long time, and it might be time for some new blood to freshen the ranks."
Jack sighed. This was all he had really wanted from Stone.
"And by new blood, I mean not an outsider, who might come in and misunderstand how our office works, but someone who has been there, seen and tried numerous cases, someone who has, if not the highest percentage of convictions, at least the greatest capacity to expand the meaning of our office and the changing demographics we represent." Ben paused and took a sip of his water. "I will not be running again for the office of District Attorney. I have enjoyed working for the past forty years under some of the greatest legislative minds this state -- and this country -- has ever produced. But my time has passed; for too long the office of the District Attorney has been run by older men. I now think it is time to shift to a different kind of thinking. And for that reason I wanted to take this opportunity to support the other candidate running for my soon-to-be-vacated office: Executive Assistant District Attorney Claire Kincaid-Duffy." He stepped back and there was a round of murmuring as Claire stepped up to the stage, smiling into the camera lights. Ben shook her hand officially, and she stood beside him as he continued. "I believe the citizens of Manhattan have been remiss in never electing a woman to the office of District Attorney, and I feel Claire Kincaid-Duffy is the ideal candidate for the position. Ms. Kincaid-Duffy has worked in our offices since she was only twenty-four years old, and she is one of the finest prosecutors -- male or female -- that I have ever run across. This is not a battle of the sexes. I did not choose to support Ms. Kincaid-Duffy because she was a woman. I chose the best prosecutor under my command. And that person just happens to be a woman. She will have the full support of my office for as long as I remain there, and the Mayor, with whom I have met just today, agrees with me that it is time to breathe some fresh air into our justice system. Claire? Did you have some words?"
Claire stood in Ben's place and waited until he gave her the nod. She heard her voice begin to speak, a short, pre-prepared introductory speech, and she heard it tempered with Ben's sternness and forged with her own instinctual ability to instill respect in her audience. By the time she had finished not a single person in the room had any legitimate doubts about her ability to run, win, and succeed once there. She remembered Ben telling her in Sixes and Sevens that if she could win over the press she was halfway there: they would pave the road for her in subtle ways she could not dream of. And when she finished speaking, arms were raised all around the room. She weathered them all, coming out only slightly dented on the issue of raising her family, should she choose to have one. For that, she faced it head-on and nodded to Caleb, who had agreed to accept the caretaker role in her household if she was elected. She presented it as planned, but not coldly so; ambitious without seeming radical. Of course having children would interfere with her role as District Attorney, but only in that she could work with the family court cases that much more effectively. She was good. Ben was proud of her.
And when she had finished, stepping down from the podium, and the klieg lights began to dim, Ben caught a glimpse of Jack McCoy on the other side of the room, his advisors speaking at him, his face shell-shocked and defeated. Ben knew he should feel a kind of sympathy for the man, but nothing came to him. Once McCoy had threatened Ben's son the gloves had come off. He deserved what he got from there on out.
After a moment, Jack strode over their way, but the self-confidence was slowly dissipating. He offered his hand to Claire. "Good luck," he said simply.
Claire waited a moment before taking the hand, cocking her head to the side just a bit. "I appreciate it, Jack."
"No chance you'll reconsider, then?"
Claire stared at him. She remembered a time when she thought she might be in love with him, she had known him so intimately once, but she had been wrong. Jack was whoever he was supposed to be at any given time. And right now he had to be repentant, so he was. It made not one iota of difference to her; she had been nearly as enraged at his threats as Ben had been. "No more than you would have reconsidered leaving a ten year old boy alone. Go to hell, Jack. You're finished here."
He narrowed his eyes at her, and smartly turned on his heel and left the room with as much dignity as he could muster.
A few feet away, Benjy tugged on Ben's jacket sleeve. "So you're giving Auntie Claire your job?"
Ben looked between his son and Claire. "She still has to win the election, but I think she'll get it, yes."
"I'd vote for her."
"So would I," Ben smiled at Benjy. And in the back of his mind, he heard Alexa's voice asking him a question. So he answered her back. Yes, Lexa. The dragon has been slain again.

---

"Ewww," Benjy winced dramatically as Claire withdrew her hands from the vegetable, dripping with slimy orange strands. "Pumpkin guts."
She dumped the mass into a nearby bowl and waved her fingers at him. "Ooooh, oooh...you look like a good towel..."
Benjy fled to the kitchen. "Dad, Auntie Claire's being gross."
Ben stuck his head out of the kitchen. "Claire, stop scaring the children."
Claire grinned at him from the foyer.
"Children?" Benjy kicked the wall. "There are no children here."
Ben tilted his head. "I stand corrected." He handed Benjy a roll of paper towels. "Give these to Auntie Claire. And don't abuse the house."
Benjy brought them over to her as she withdrew yet another handful of the pumpkin's insides. "Don't tell me you never had toasted pumpkin seeds, Ben," she called out, taking a towel and wiping her hands down.
"I haven't carved a pumpkin in about fifteen years, Claire."
"They're awesome," Benjy said. "All salty."
"Shouldn't you be changing?" Claire looked up at him from the floor. "I mean, since you're not helping with the pumpkin, why don't you get your costume on and show me how great you look?"
"Okay." Benjy ran up the stairs. He loved Halloween, and this year, it fell on a Friday, so he got to check out the houses in Ben's neighborhood. He hadn't given much thought to a costume until just a few days ago -- for a while Halloween had seemed an age away, and then, suddenly, it had been that week. The past few weeks had gone by faster than he had ever expected, and life with Caitlin and his parents felt like something a different person had lived. Here at Ben's he was doted on, he was the only one who got full attention, something he craved. Everything he did someone -- particularly Ben -- was delighted with, and he had to share nothing with a younger sister. Caitlin wasn't so bad, really, but it was kind of fun without her around, too. And Ben treated him like a grownup, which Benjy also found liberating: since he was expected to behave like an adult, he was teaching himself to be mature. The whole thing with Clarence -- he missed the dog, he loved the dog in the short time he had been able to be with him, but he saw that Ben got over it, and mirrored him. They had buried Clarence under the oak tree, in the shadiest side, where he had always slept, and that had been it. Sometimes Benjy thought about him, and wished he had someone to throw a ball with, but in the end, Clarence had been a dog. He hadn't even known him that long.
Trying to figure out the whole fact of having two dads had been decidedly more baffling. Benjy didn't know what to feel there, and it had knocked the wind from his sails for a long time. He still wasn't sure he was completely up to speed. Dad...when he pictured his father he pictured Mike, tall and handsome with thick black hair and strong arms, someone who laughed a lot but laid down the law loud and clear. He was different with Benjy than he was with Caitlin, at least that was what Benjy had noticed as he got older. Sometimes when Benjy had been with Mike he would get the feeling that they didn't connect, that Benjy would try to explain something he thought, or was working on, and Mike would give him an odd look, almost disappointed, as if because Mike did not understand something was wrong with the whole premise. Benjy had often felt he must be doing something wrong, and lately he had stopped trying to explain to his father all the events and people and places that shaped his life. It had been gradual, and not exactly life-shattering, but when Benjy watched Mike with Caitlin he realized she still could talk to her dad, and there was no look of confusion on his face. She would say the dumbest things, or prattle on about her drawings, and then Mike would jump in with some word of encouragement or advice, and Caitlin would nod furiously, as if a circuit had been completed.
At Ben's, Benjy had never felt like what he said was misinterpreted, or what he did the wrong thing. Sure, there had been that CD incident, but he realized when Ben explained that it had not been Benjy's fault, that Ben had been the one with the problem. And once or twice last week, Benjy had even gone to Ben with the wolf CD and they had sat in the sofa and played it. Benjy told Ben what each song reminded him of, even if he didn't know the words, and told him how sometimes he made up music videos in his head to go along with the songs. Ben had listened, and never said or implied that Benjy's ideas were confusing or wrong, and they had spent a long time letting the music fill the room, leaning against each other on the sofa.
Finding out that Ben was in fact his actual, biological father had come as a surprise, but not a shock. Benjy had never known a relative other than his mother who looked anything like him, so he had not expected the way one looked to mean anything when it came to one's parents. But he had one friend, Jules, who had two sisters that spoke and looked alike, even though they were several years apart, and Jules himself had the same kind of short nose and round eyes that his father had, even though his hair was red and nobody else in his family had red hair. Benjy knew that family well enough to realize where physical characteristics had some meaning. But until recently, he had never applied it to himself, until slowly, starting with comments from strangers like the librarian, Benjy had begun to wonder. With Ben's stories about his mother he had begun to do simple math. And it became possible. So he had wondered aloud. And as always, Ben had not made his question seem strange or unwanted. He told the truth.
And the answer had felt natural to Benjy. He had spent a lot of time wondering, after that, why no one had told him this before. It didn't make him love Mike any less, because still, when he pictured his father, he conjured up Mike's face. But he felt he would have liked to know Ben before he turned ten years old; he would have liked to know there was someone else out there with his face and his thoughts and his ways of doing things, so that he might not feel so self-conscious about being the only one who acted that way. Ben had said he had some of Alexa and of Mike in him, but the more Benjy watched Ben, the more he realized that those things, those parts of him that were his mother and father were small things. Hardly insignificant, but minor. The bigger parts of himself he found in Ben. Calling him Dad, then, had not felt unnatural at all.
Calling Mike Dad from here on out also felt natural. But Benjy wasn't sure if that was what he was supposed to do. Could someone really have two fathers? Should anyone?
Benjy ran these things over in his mind again as he fitted the costume around himself. He had hoped that the longer he thought about them the more likely he was to think of an answer, but still nothing had come to him. He put on his hat and picked up the notepad, and scrambled back down the stairs.
Claire took one look at him and grinned. "Watch out, Ben, the press is here!"
Ben came out of the kitchen where he had begun washing the seeds and grinned at Benjy, who resembled a shrunken newspaper reporter, complete with fedora with card stuck in the brim reading "Press," a notepad, and a camera slung over his shoulder. Rather than wear his own suit from the press conference, Benjy had borrowed a beige jacket and red tie from Ben, to make him seem more adult. "You should have a bottle of whiskey on you," Ben commented dryly, "but I guess we don't have to be hyper-realistic."
"Why not a copy of the first amendment?" Claire laughed. "You know, to wave in the faces of prosecutors and cops who require sources."
Ben produced a camera from the kitchen and snapped a few photos with Claire and Benjy, and she took some of the two of them, then turned the pumpkin around for Benjy's approval. "Well?"
"What is it?"
"It's a cutout of Richard Nixon. I tried to think of the scariest face I could."
"Who's Richard Nixon?"
She thwapped the brim of his fedora. "And you call yourself a reporter. Go check your history book and tell me in fifteen minutes, or no trick or treating."
"Aw, man...." But he went upstairs to look.
Ben stepped out of the kitchen again and wiped his hands on a towel. "When is Caleb getting back? We're about to be inundated with children and we have no candy."
"He should be here in a minute or two."
Ben squinted at Nixon. "The nose is excellent," he told her. "Thanks for coming out tonight."
"Hey, what else are we going to do on Halloween? I don't think the co-op actually allows trick or treaters. You're lucky to still have a neighborhood where kids aren't outlawed."
"You can have that fixed, maybe," Ben told her slyly, "when you get elected."
"Ben, that scares the crap out of me, so let's not discuss it." She blinked up at him. "But thanks for giving me such a big push out of the nest."
"Well," he said, slowly, "I had my own motives, too. Don't have me canonized yet."
Caleb swung open the door a few minutes later, laden with bags. "Here," he said, handing one to Claire. "I got the cool candy but I wasn't sure how much to get."
Claire peered inside. "You did indeed, Husband. Look." She held up bags of Three Musketeers and Milky Way miniatures. "These are the cool candy. I hated getting the sour balls when I went out."
Benjy bounded down the stairs again. "My favorites are Reeses Peanut Butter Cups." He looked in the bags. "Wow."
Claire slapped his hand away gently. "Not for you. You have to go out begging for yours." She paused. "So? Tell me what I want to know."
Benjy took a deep breath. "President Richard Milhous Nixon. Also known as Tricky Dick." He giggled. "Thirty-seventh President of the United States, from 1969 - 1974. Visited China in 1972 and established... detente?"
Claire corrected his pronunciation. "Day-taunt."
"Detente with the USSR. Was implicated in the Watergate scandal and resigned from office in 1974."
She clapped her hands. "Excellent. Now you can be a reporter. I know...how about you be Carl Bernstein."
"Who's he?"
"He's one of two reporters who cracked the Watergate scandal for the Washington Post."
"Cool. Okay."
"Ben, you ready? It's getting to be sundown, the kids are across the street."
Ben came out to the foyer with something behind his back. "You going to stay and give out candy or come with us, Claire?"
"I'll come along for the walk, if you don't mind, Caleb."
Caleb shrugged. "Means I get to scare the mall rats all by myself. Goody."
Ben withdrew his hands from his back. "Here. Bet you forgot we still had this." And he offered Benjy one of the still-frozen glow sticks.
"Wow..." Benjy looped it around his neck. "Yeah. This is great. It did last."
"Then let's go," Ben said, and they headed out into the early evening.

---

"So how is being married treating you?" Ben asked Claire as they waited on the sidewalk for Benjy to finish at the front door of a neighbor's house.
Claire put her hands in her pockets and raised her shoulders to her jawline. "Makes me feel all squishy."
"Come on, Claire..."
"Truth? Ben, I hardly know. I've had three weeks. Caleb and I have been living together for two years now. It doesn't feel any different, not yet. I am really getting sick of Kincaid-Duffy, though. I don't think it'll last, me and a hyphen."
"Is Caleb any different?"
"He seems the same to me. I suppose we really got married when I moved in, only we didn't have the ceremony until just a month ago. I like it. I like it in a way I didn't think I would -- there's something reassuring and secure about putting it into concrete, into saying in a permanent way that I am connected with someone else. I hadn't wanted to do that before."
Benjy scampered up to them and held his shopping bag open wide. "Got Bazooka gum at that one!" he cried, and ran ahead, his glowstick lighting up the way.
"Don't get too far ahead of us old fogies," Claire called after him.
"Speak for yourself," Ben smiled at her, and told her what Benjy had said to the mayor on the day of the press conference.
She laughed. "He's a trip. Always has been."
Ben sighed and they paused at the walkway of another house. "Yeah." He looked at the ground. "There's nearly eleven years you got that I didn't. You'd know that kind of thing."
"Ben..."
He held up a hand. "I'm not cynical. Really, I'm not. I made my bed; I kept myself away."
"It's not too late to make up for lost time," she told him, hopefully.
Ben looked at her. "Really, Claire, you do surprise me. You have been bound and determined to see me force my way into his life, to make things as hard for the Logans as is physically possible. Tell him the truth. Take him to work. Make up for lost time. What have you got against them?"
"Ben Stone," she said, feeling a low simmering start up in her. "You have this incredible martyr fixation; you always seem to assume you're at fault. Sure, you told the Logans to stay away. But it's a two-way street. They listened, Alexa listened and knew full well what was going on. She knew what she wasn't sharing with you. And I think Mike's known it for a long time, too. I can't see why you feel you have to make it so goddamn easy on Mike and Alexa Logan."
Benjy opened his bag again as he ran by. "What's a Mary Jane?"
"Like a Bit-O-Honey," Claire told him, and murmured to Ben, "Or a joint. I assume we haven't gotten to that stage in Halloween treats yet."
Ben hardly heard her as they moved along. "There's so much selfishness out there, Claire. Why would I want to take a fully functional family and impose myself on it? It can only benefit me, I'm the only one who can get anything out of insisting they let me see Benjy."
"There you go again. Jesus, Ben, you don't need me to tell you this -- Benjy is lucky, really incredibly lucky, to know you. In case you haven't noticed it, there's a lot more between you than hair and eyes and nose. He gets something remarkable about of having you around, he gets a sense of self-justification and well-being, someone who understands him and knows where he's headed. And I'm not saying he doesn't get that at home, but I've seen how you two interact after almost two months, and I know he doesn't have that with Mike. Caitlin has that with Mike. Benjy is on the sidelines, and he's just beginning to know it. It doesn't make Mike a bad person, it just means he's not psychic." She paused as Benjy came over again.
"What this time?"
"Snickers."
"Cool," she winked at him.
"Don't eat any yet," Ben called after him.
"I know that," he yelled back.
"Besides which," she continued once Benjy was out of earshot, "you can't go back. You've crossed the line of knowledge. He knows, you said so yourself. He's always going to know. Even if you wanted, you can't back out now, and you can't change what has happened. Your life will never be the same. You're included by fate. This is how it was meant to happen."
"Mike hates me for it."
"Since when do you care what Mike Logan thinks? He'll get over it, if for no other reason than he has to."
Ben heard himself whining, and making excuses, and shut up over it. Claire had a point. "I wish I felt right about it," he said, finally.
"You told me something once," Claire said. "You told me, under the influence of a drink or two, that 'we all are tested, eventually. Our principles, our values, our morals, like some kind of cosmic joke are the things we have to constantly defend.' You said that you thought you had passed in a lot of areas, and at the time you said you were willing to take the risk on what I was questioning. That risk was Alexa. Don't you think Benjy deserves the same daredevil attempt?"
Ben didn't answer. But she knew she had gotten through. And for now, that was enough for Claire.

---

The moon was high and full by the time they strolled back to Ben's house, Benjy's bag candy-heavy and dragging, and he tried to run ahead but his weariness was getting the better of him. "I'm gonna have ten pieces tonight," he said, his grinning face illuminated by the last waning light of the glowstick.
Ben tapped him on the fedora. "Two. Only two per night. You'll get sick. Or worse, you'll get a sugar high and I won't be able to put you to bed."
"We get poker tonight, right?"
"Of course." Ben nodded at Claire. "Should we include the lady?"
Benjy thought about it for a few minutes. "I guess so."
"Oh, make me feel so welcome," Claire smiled. "We can make it a foursome, how about, and include my poor neglected husband, too."
"Yeah!" Benjy cried. "More money to win!"
Claire turned to Ben. "How much do you owe him?"
Ben shrugged with one shoulder and rolled his eyes to the side. "Seventy-eight dollars and twenty-six cents."
"You are, without a doubt, the worst poker player on the face of the earth, Ben Stone."
"He won't let me play gin rummy any more."
"That's 'cause I win with poker," Benjy told him, and they started to cut across Ben's front lawn to get to the front door, but Benjy froze when they were only a few steps onto the grass, and he stared at the dimly-lit driveway. Ben followed his gaze to the car parked in it, not knowing whose it was.
The front door opened just then, and two men emerged, lit from behind by the warm glow of inside light, and excitedly Benjy turned around. One called to him, and he dropped his bag in the grass, candy spilling out, and ran straight toward Mike. "Daddy, daddy!" he called as he ran, his fedora falling off in flight, and threw himself at his father, who scooped him up and swung him around.
Benjy wrapped his arms around Mike's neck and breathed in his father's cologne, the smell he knew so well, faint but still there, in his clothes, and there was a new scent, something fresh and crackling, not quite like a fire, but something warm and fervent, and he felt his father's arms around him, and all suddenly was right with the world. How had he not realized how askew things were before just now?
"I missed you, little man," his father said into his neck, hefting Benjy up on his hip, hugging him tightly. After a moment Mike opened his eyes and peered over the boy's shoulder into the dark, where he could discern the familiar outlines of Claire and Ben.
"Where's Mommy?" Benjy prised Mike away slightly, frowning.
"She's back home with Cate, Benjy. Don't worry, you'll be seeing her soon." Mike carried Benjy across the lawn to where Ben and Claire stood, to where they had not moved since Benjy broke from them.
Claire glanced at Ben and knew instinctively how Benjy's instant re-conversion had pierced him. She wasn't certain what this was going to mean, but she knew it would take a moment for Ben to switch gears. So she took over, as she had before. "Mike," she said, and reached over to squeeze his free hand. "Welcome back."
"Good to be back, Claire. Sorry to have missed your wedding. Congratulations, now that you've joined us married stiffs."
"That's okay, Mike, I know you had a lot more on your mind the past few months." She smiled at him. "Ben filled me in."
"Oh, yeah, of course. We never told you we were going. Shit. Sorry." He turned to Ben, whose silence had rendered him almost invisible. Mike blinked at him for a long moment, as if trying to choose his words carefully, measuring them in a way that surprised Claire. "Stone," he said, and waited.
Ben snapped to. "How is she, Mike?"
"Could be a cliche to say it, but better than ever. Damned if I can figure it out, but she's put on ten pounds and has a tan...so we stopped at this hospital on the way back to have her looked at and they say she's back in remission. They say she could live a hundred years. Or something like that. It's all in the mind, Stone. That must be it. I almost can't believe it's over."
"So you came right over," Ben stated flatly.
Mike paused. "Er...yeah. Look, sorry, I hope you don't mind my just showing up, but Alexa couldn't wait 'til tomorrow to see Benjy, and the fact was I wanted us whole again, too. I completely didn't realize it was even Halloween. We haven't had clocks or calendars for the past two months, completely cut off." He grinned uneasily; there was something here he wasn't being told, and it showed on his face.
"That's great, Mike," Ben said, distantly. "That's really good."
Not sure what to make of that, Mike barrelled on. "So we're just going to head back...before it gets too late. It's been a long day, what with flying in and getting Cate and this whole emotional rollercoaster we've been on...it's been hard." He leaned down to Benjy, who was staring wide-eyed up at Mike. "Why don't you run in and get your stuff and we'll just peel rubber on home, 'kay?"
Benjy looked over at Ben, then back at Mike. "But..." he said, not realizing everything was over. He didn't know what this meant -- would he never see Ben again? He knew he would see Auntie Claire, but Ben had come as the result of this crisis. If his mother was well, did that mean Ben would now disappear? He turned to Ben. "Do I get to see you any more?" he asked, his forehead crinkling and three small lines between his eyebrows forming.
Ben knelt down to him. "Sure, Benjy. Any time you want." It was over, he knew it was going to be over. It would be so ugly from here on out. He didn't want to look up at Mike's reaction; he didn't want to know.
Claire did. And she wasn't certain what she saw there, a soup of emotions were playing out on Mike's features. His jaw set first when Benjy embraced Ben. He fought with himself. And then his face relaxed. "Stone..." Mike trailed slightly. "I think --"
Ben glared at him. "Don't think, Logan. Don't change the way it's always been." The sarcasm rolled from his mouth before he could stop it; he knew just how hard it would be over the next weeks...months...years...to see Benjy again. So suddenly. No warning. Just take him back. That was Logan's style. I'm a loaner, thought Ben again. Just a stand-in for the real thing. And he hated himself for it.
Mike flinched, then his brow knit. He had been prepared to consider discussing what Alexa would not speak about, he had thought perhaps, as two grown adults they might come to a more common ground. But he had been cut off on the ride from the ferry several weeks ago, he had been cut off now. Nothing would ever change; they would always be unable to find common ground. His jaw set again. "Come on, Benjy," he said firmly. "No need to waste more time."
"I --" Benjy glanced between Ben, who was still knelt down to his level, and up at Mike's night-shadowy face, and stammered, "I have to go now."
"I know," said Ben, gently. "Go ahead."
Benjy chewed his lip, unsure why he suddenly felt so awkward. Then he thought of Clarence, he thought of Ben and Clarence, and he thought of the photo upstairs in his room. And he didn't want to leave -- not that he didn't want to see his mother, or see Cate, or be able sleep knowing everything was all right again, but he had a hard time bearing the thought that Ben was not coming along. Tomorrow, he promised himself. Tomorrow he would call. And in a last desperate gesture, he rested his hands on Ben's shoulders. "Thanks, Dad," he said quietly. "Thanks for everything."
Claire's eyes widened and she scanned the yard for Caleb, wondering where he was in all of this, then swept her eyes back to Mike, who had heard his son perfectly clearly, and who had literally staggered back a step at the words. She saw his hands clench, and she could not recall when she had ever seen him so instantly angry.
Benjy turned back to Mike. "Should I get everything? Or should I leave stuff for next time?"
Mike refocused. "Get everything." He gave Benjy a gentle push on the shoulder. "Go on. Now."
Benjy backed away slowly, not understanding the change in tone in his father's voice, then turned and ran into the house to get his things.
Ben knelt on the grass a moment longer, the short hairs on the back of his neck rising, and after a minute pulled himself up to his full height. The porch door slammed shut.
"I don't fucking believe it," said Mike.
"Actually, neither do I." Ben's heart was suddenly much lighter. Benjy had rendered moot any question of continuing the charade. Now everything that was to be known was known.
"You son of a bitch," said Mike, incredulity still coating his words. "You goddamn son of a bitch." He clapped a hand to his forehead and turned slightly away, then whirled back. "You told him."
The first stab had come at his sudden arrival; Ben had naturally assumed when the Logans were returning he would have plenty of time to make his goodbyes and draw things out to a natural closure. The next had come with the subtle jab about how they were even now. Ben felt treated like an obstacle, not just a loaner, but a bump in the road that needed to be sidestepped. And with this, the final insult, he felt a roiling in his stomach. This would not just pass. He was tired of letting everything slide by. Ben took a full step towards Mike and stood where they were only inches apart.
"He guessed, you moron," Ben spat. "He guessed because he's a bright little kid and we spent a hell of a lot of time together."
"And of course you had to tell him everything," Mike hissed, almost as bewildered and hurt as he was angry.
"I'm not used to lying to children," Ben told him. "I promised him I would never lie to him. And I kept that promise. So after he guessed, yes, Captain Logan, I told him after that. He knew on his own by then, in any case. He just needed my validation."
"I didn't need your validation," said Mike. "I needed you to stay the hell out of all of this. That's all I ever needed."
"Too goddamn late, Mike. You called me. I was your only hope."
Mike winced and backed away, bending slightly, and leaned over the grass.
Ben followed him. "You want it? You want it all? Come on, you're dying to hear every sordid detail."
"Ben..." Claire took a step towards him and rested her fingers on his elbow. "Enough."
He shook her off. "Ten years, Logan. That's a long time to carry a grudge."
Mike righted himself and whirled on his opponent. "Not long enough, apparently. Stay away from us, Stone. Don't even call. I don't want you around."
Ben was surprised at how good being provoked felt. He leaned in one last time. "Go to hell," he said quietly. "Ten years ago, Mike Logan, I slept with Alexa Radin. I did it a lot, in fact. I really, really, really..." his voice cracked just slightly, "enjoyed it. I got her pregnant. And I will always, always be in love with her. But she wanted you. So I did what a gentleman does. I let the lady cross without me. For ten years, I lived with that. I said nothing. But you opened the box again. You called me. And if what came out of that box was that Benjy figured out who his other father was, then that is something you are going to have to live with. I love that boy. He's my son, too. And if you try to prevent me from seeing him I'll have you brought up on charges. From here on out, Captain Logan, we're all going to be one goddamn incredibly happy family. You, Alexa, Benjy, and me. Do you understand that?"
Claire felt like cheering.
Stunned, Mike backed down and the calm he had fought so hard to acheive in New Mexico deserted him. His stomach churned and he was nauseous. Only a few days ago he had wanted Alexa to tell him everything; now that it had been spelled out for him, even the outline shredded at his heart. His eyes met Stone's and he was abashed to find they glinted hard back at him. Stone was very, very serious.
"Mike...Mike." A voice cut through the white noise in his head and he turned to Claire.
Ben, freed from Mike's withering gaze, stepped away and paced, rubbing his face with his hands. It as out; he felt as if he had given birth. All those words, in such a short period of time. And yet -- so few words compared to the ones he still had inside. His head reeled.
Claire continued, once Ben was out of earshot. "It's over, Mike, it's done. Calm down."
Mike stared blankly after Ben. "God, Claire, it'll never be over. I thought I was okay with this. I thought..."
"No," she said. "I didn't mean like that. I mean...stop fighting it. Fighting him. Accept it. It's the truth, you know it's the truth. So live with it."
"We almost got away," he murmured.
"My God," she whispered. "Have you no heart?"
Her words snagged at him. "Of course I do."
"Then have you no ears? Didn't you listen?"
"I heard too much."
She shook her head and braced his arms between her hands, holding him in place. This was so strange, to be talking to him this way, like a child who has received a scolding. Claire was grateful for the dark; in another few months she would be the DA, if all went well, and not too long after that he would no doubt get the commissioner's seat. She had been hearing rumors for months. But for right now they were not their professions, he was broken and injured and she was the only person who could reach him. "Mike, listen. Ben has never denied you your place. He accepted a long time ago that Benjy has two fathers. Ben doesn't care about ownership. He knows you can't own another person." She paused and met Mike's eyes. "Let him in, Mike. You're taking Benjy home without any warning. Isn't that hard enough? Accept it. And move on."
"Shit," Mike muttered. "I didn't ask for this."
"Who does?" she wondered. "Who asks for anything they get? But since you've got it now, Mike...how about giving it a try?"
He stared at her.
"Go home, Mike," she said quietly. "Take Benjy, let him see his mother. Go home and wait a few days and then think about this rationally. You can call me if you have to...but I think you should call Ben. All right?" She looked over her shoulder where Caleb stood in the doorway with Benjy and the boy's duffle bag. She waved.
Benjy ran to Ben first, and his father scooped him up the way Mike had a few moments ago. "I'll see you very soon," Ben said. "I promise that. I'll come to the next soccer game. And the one after that. And the one after that."
"I'll be back, I promise," Benjy said.
"I love you," Ben told him, suddenly desperate.
"I love you too," Benjy told him with surprise in his voice.
Ben let him down after that and Benjy snatched up his duffle bag, running to Mike, and took his hand. "Daddy," he said, and Mike looked down at him, pained. "I missed you."
Mike ran his hand over Benjy's hair and smiled. "Me too, little man." He paused and stared hard at Ben. "Come on," he said. "Let's go see Mom." They piled in the car and Ben and Claire watched them back out into the street and speed away, out of the neighborhood.
The DA and his successor stood in the yard for a moment without words, and then Claire put her arm around Ben's shoulders. "It'll work out," she said, gently. "Don't worry. This isn't the end."
Ben craned his neck backwards and took a deep breath. He felt liberated in a strange way; he had nothing more to hide. And the embarrassment he had thought he would feel at everything finally being read for the record...it had not come. Facing Jack the Dragon had been worse. And with that sense of freedom came his complete agreement with Claire. In a firm, resolved voice, Ben told her, "The end? Oh, no, ma'am. We're just getting started."