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On the way back to the frat house where he hoped his car was still safely parked, Stephan stewed in a mix of anger and pain. He knew it wasn't smart to drive with a bad hangover, and that he should probably go lay down for a while before he started hauling boxes, but he didn't have time. It was already a day late, and if he didn't get in gear he'd lose another day. He had to make a good impression on these people, didn't he? After all, he was going to be living with them for a while. That meant there couldn't be anymore screw ups. He'd just sneak into the building quietly, bring down the boxes, and be gone before anyone noticed him. Yeah, that's all he had to- Wait. Why was his car parked in a handicapped zone? And why was the trunk bungeed shut? His eyes went wide and for a moment he forgot about his headache, running toward the vehicle. There had better not be anything living in there. "What the..." he mumbled, grabbing a note taped on one of the back windows. It was a bit hard to read, but when he managed to decode it it actually put him in a bit of a better mood.


Shaking his head, Stephan folded the note up and tucked it in his back pocket before wandering around the back of the car to look for any damage. The guys didn't seem to have scratched anything up, and after a quick count he found that all of the boxes were there. Strange, but good. That was one less thing for him to have to worry about. As he wandered around to the front seat he couldn't help but laugh a bit. They were jackasses, all of them, but at least they were thoughtful jackasses.

It took nearly an hour to get out onto the interstate, the rest of his graduating class seemed to have stayed an extra night as well, or so it seemed from the traffic. Gridlock didn't seem to bother his headache, though maybe the asprin was just helping. He remembered the way to his new home, mostly because most of the trip was spent on the interstate and a few memorable highways. As he was about to turn onto the on ramp, the car in front of him slammed on its brakes, who the hell did that on the on ramp, and likewise he slammed into them. Great. This was just what he needed. As if it wasn't bad enough, he sneezed. Maybe it was just a fluke. Or maybe it was why his head felt a bit fuzzy.

When he managed to pull off to the side of the road, he had already sneezed a few more times, and he was not looking forward to talking to the person he had hit. From the age and model of the car, it wasn't what he would call pretty, he assumed it would be an old man, but the driver suprised him. The driver turned out to be a teenage guy, barely driving age from the look on his face, and his father. Even better, he'd hit a student driver. The boy simply stood back by the hood, seeming not to really care what was going on as the father tried to negotiate with Stephan. The father seemed to want to call the police, file a report, get insurance involved, all the crud that would take forever. Stephan, who had himself admitted to being a spoiled brat, shook his head. He knew he had some cash left in his school fund, and now that all his student loans were paid off and he already had a place to stay, he was going to use it for his own luxury. "Listen," he said, interrupting the man, "It was his fault, but I don't really care. I'm in a bit of a rush, so how about this. Forget the polive, forget insurance. The damage doesn't look too bad, so I'll pay for it." Scribbling down his name and his new address, he added, "Just send the bill here, ok? No harm no foul, and he starts with a fresh slate." The father started to thank him, but he just shook his head, "Just let me go on my way, ok?"

It took a while, but he finally got free of the man, and the next few hours went smoothly. He liked the open road. He did not, however, like the fact that he kept having sneezing fits. There was nothing quite like dying for a second and swerving the car. At least it kept anyone from tailgating him. He drove well into the night, and for all he had told himself he wouldn't, ended up simply pulling off onto the shoulder to sleep. He'd eaten half the snacks the guys had left him, and as his cold continued to worsen had decided he'd need to find a gas station in the morning for both breakfast food and daytime antihistamines.

He was awoken not by the phone alarm he had set from himself, but by the blaring horn of an eighteen wheeler. Pulling himself up to a sit, he frowned, noticing a school bus and the responsible truck going past. Stupid kids. Of course, he remembered a time when he had done the little arm pump for a truck to blow its horn. That had only been a week ago. He smiled despite himself, then launched into a bad sneezing fit. Damnit. It hadn't gone away in his sleep. It took him almost an hour, but eventually he got back into his swing of driving, and shortly after found himself a gas station. The clerk was a particular dumbass, and it took him a while to find something nondrowsy, so he didn't get out of there in less than half an hour. He did however, get a chocolate chip muffin that cheered him up considerably. It was around noon when he took a pit stop, and he was distracted for a while by a few girls he'd known in highschool. He hadn't quite gathered where they were headed, but he did get one of them's phone numbers.

His medicine wore off at about six PM, and he took the opportunity to stop and get a real dinner before the last stretch of the trip. The sun had nearly set when he left the restaurant, but he was feeling good and he just wanted to get to his apartment and crash. It wasn't until around midnight that he pulled into the complex, racoon eyed and tired. Now where was his apartment again? Right, not the building by the garden but the one by the lab. He assumed that was the sci-fi looking building. The frat boy parked awkwardly outside the building, leaving everything but his keys and a pillow in the car. Screw it, he'd haul boxes in the morning. Apartment E... He'd assumed that would be on the first floor, but he was wrong. Apartment E meant he was on the fifth floor, lovely. Grumbling, he seemed to have missed the elevator, he hiked his way up the stairs to the top floor, and unlocked the door. Home sweet new home. The apartment was sparsely furnished, but that would be just fine for now. Swinging the door behind him, it didn't quite close, he collapsed to sleep face down in his pillow on the couch. Rough day.

Dont see stars like that in the city
After a nice run, Stephan bumped into the gaurdian of a toddler named Gavin. After finding out her name and that she lived in the other building, the two went down the street to a diner for coffee and dessert. They ended up talking for a long time, then had a bit of a rush when Stephan let her drive his car back. They talked about decorating, his apartment is still a bit drab, and when he jokingly invited her up, she accepted. She gave him a few good ideas for remodeling and decorating, and when it got too late for them to talk anymore, he walked her back home. At her door, they had a bit of an awkward moment, the first time in a while a girl had actually made him blush, and then he left. There's always next time.

The Date
Steps comes over to a homecooked meal and teaches Gavin the secret of the wishbone. He learns about the real deal between Marc and Hadrian, and discussed school. After dinner Gavin starts to doze off and Steps helps to put him to bed. With the toddler in bed they go to watch a movie and have their first kiss in a touchy feely moment. After a heated night they are woken up by a distressed Gavin, and quickly thrown back into the world of parenting. After a brief leave for showering and morning duties they return and go on a bit of a trip, discussing pets along the way. They go to breakfast and talk about their families and then go to the zoo. All in all, date successful, very successful.

Someone to Listen
Remi confesses the problems she's been having with Thorn and the two make plans for Steps to move in with her and Gavin for the time being. More talk of their childhoods, and then Remi finally seems a little more comfortable than when she had arrived.

Something Amiss
After returning from time to grieve with his family Steps goes to visit Remi and Gavin and explain his disappearence, but finds only Gavin and a somewhat scary blood trail when he arrives. Not knowing what else to do he calls Hadrian, but instead gets Marc. He worries that Thorn got to her, and feels more than a little responsible.

With a half empty bottle of vodka on his knee and two empty six packs on the floor testifying to his condition, Stephan sat leaning back against the couch, watching the ball drop on TV. It was moving so slow, he could almost feel the stubble growing in on his chin. His eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep, and his messy shirt showed the wear and tear of more than a few days without a shower. As the ball touched and it ticked into the new year, he down the rest of the bottle and rasped out, "Should old accountants be forgot, and never brought to mine? Should old accountants be forgot, and days of oolong pass. And for oolong pass, my joy, for oolong pass, we will take a cup of kidneys yet, for oolong pass." He slammed his fist at the remote, though he only managed to turn it to a different channel that featured a smiling family telling their New Years resolutions and then introducing their Church's choir. Without noticing it, he started to laugh, taking a firmer hold on the neck of the bottle. And then, as the glass collapsed, some pieces falling into the bottle and some down to the ground, a tear ran down his cheek. He shouldn't be crying. He should be happy. He was still alive after all.

"Ugh!" He yelled, tossing the remains of the bottle toward the kitchen, though its crash against the wall did nothing to satisfy him. His hand was cut in a few places, but none bad enough to need stitches. With a little trouble and help from the couch, he got to his feet and managed to stumble into his own room, leaving the door open so that the flash of the TV could still taunt him. Grimacing, he grabbed the full bottle of expensive champagne that he had gotten when he had first moved in. He had planned, eventually, to toast with Remi, and any of the other people he met around the complex. But here he was, in the dawn of the new year, all alone. It would be his solace instead. He didn't bother to find a corkscrew, instead simply jamming his keys into the cork to yank it out. The loud pop, the fountain of foam, those things that usually would signify joy and celebration, now meant only misery to him. And again, he laughed, drinking as much of it as he could before he choked on the bubbles. As he let the bottle drop from his lips and down onto the ground, he started laughing again, though he felt like he was sobbing. It felt good in a way, to just collapse.

He fell back on his bed, with no concept of the mess he'd have to deal with later. And as he stared up at the ceiling, he thought of something. There would always be someone in a worse situation. And even then, they wouldn't be moping like this, at least, not if there was anything left to them. He didn't want to die, he knew that much. At least, not really. But living, it was a lot harder. Still lying on his back, arms spread to the sides, he turned his head in the direction of the still flashing TV and the smiling faces that inhabited it. Managing a small smile of his own, he whispered, "This year... I won't let anyone down." With that, he turned over and screamed into his pillow, laughing while he did. Eventually, after a few more screams, he exhausted himself to the point of passing out. This new year, it would be better. It had to be.

"Vega?" Steps called into the backroom, now darkened as the toddler's nursery. From somewhere in the room he heard the boy giggling, though the noise was quickly muffled. "Vega," he said again, "This isn't funny. It's past your bedtime already." Another giggle. Stephan rolled his eyes, flicking the flowered light switch. He cringed slightly as the girly room was illuminated, making a mental note to get something a little more masculine next time he left the complex. The crib was empty and the lid to the toybox was still up, but that meant nothing about whether the toddler was there. He'd proven already that he had a flair for the dramatic. Fine, he'd play along. A child-sized chaise chair sat in the corner, and from what he could tell it was about two feet to the left of where it had been that morning. Sneaking over to it Steps pretended he still had no idea where the toddler was. "Vega, you know there's not going to be any bubbles left if you keep this up." Silence. Rocking forward on one foot he peered over the top of the chaise to find the silver haired boy crouching behind it with his hands over his eyes. He crept quietly around the side and- "Gottcha!" The toddler squealed as he was captured, fighting to the point that he had almost wiggled his coat off over his head. Steps tossed him up, grabbing him around the waist this time. "Come on," he told the boy, who was now grinning despite resistance, "The water'll still be warm."

He carried him to the bathroom, where the overwhelming smell of lilacs made the air almost impossible to breathe. For Steps at least, Vega seemed to adore it. With no trouble at all Steps stripped Vega of his closes, the toddler seemed to like the physical attention, but getting him in the tub was another story. "No!" Vega cried, using Steps' now soapy hands to slip out of his grasp. The man seemed frustrated, but things like this were what kept his mind of of things like Remi. After a few more rounds of cat and dog Stephan managed to jam Vega into the bubbley water. Once he was soaked and his hair was a soppy mess Vega seemed to calm down a bit, splashing around and humming some unknown tune. Steps scrubbed him clean with a soft washcloth, figuring it would be better than just putting soap in the water like he had originally planned, and moved to get the shampoo. But as soon as his hand touched the bottle Vega started to wail. "What?" Steps asked, holding out the bottle of green liquid, "What's wrong?" He blinked, weird. He hadn't even touched him. Vega shook his head and pointed at the bottle of lilac. "That's bubble bath," Steps told him, "I can't wash your hair with th-" Before he even finished Vega started to wail even louder. Steps cringed. It was way too late for him to be screaming like that. Well, maybe this once. It couldn't hurt to let the kid get what he wanted once in a while. "Fine," he said, defeated, and reached for the bottle. Vega instantly silenced, giving Steps his best "aren't I just darling" grin.

Vega is getting bigger every day, but it certainly hasn't slowed him down. He can make himself easy food now, like cereal and a few microwaved things, but I'm not going to let him near even a toaster yet. He's kind of a klutz, but I think he does a lot of it for attention. Like this morning, when I tried to get him to stop covering his pancakes in syrup he "accidentally" popped the lid off the bottle and poured it all over the table. When I asked him if he did it on purpose he just smiled. I don't know, maybe he's trying to tell me something. I've been trying to figure out what he likes, but so far the only thing he responds to is music. So basically the apartment is never quiet anymore. He doesn't really like rap, or country it seems. Mostly he dances around and tries to sing along when it's something like pop, but occassionally he'll let me listen to what I like. He always gives me a face though.

But the one thing that gets me is this. There's not much in his room, just some stuffed animals, the crib, and his dresser, but somehow he always manages to move everything and get things stuck where they don't belong. Just last week I went in to get him a new shirt after lunch and, by smell alone, found that he had hidden an apple behind the dresser. I showed it to him and asked him why he put it there and he just laughed and said it was to grow an apple tree. I don't know whether he really believes that, but it's really hard to stay mad at him when he's so damn good at looking innocent.