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Imara Mason was a fitting name - was ironically the first thought Mathias had when, thanks to Ned's ranting, he finally got a full name to the face. It suited her. He ought to let her handle this - she was tough as nails, but he saw the twitch just as much as Ned did, and he realized that Ne was going to go the low route and try to tick her off.

So instead of a straight b-line to Delilah, Richard, and Elizabeth, he veered, moving to join the pair in their little meeting, coming to stand beside Imara a polite - but close - distance away.

"I couldn't help overhearing," Mathias chimed in, making a show of once again messing with is ear as if Ned's shouting was deafening. "Hell, I'm pretty sure most of the neighbors if not half the county couldn't have helped overhearing."

"I wouldn't be surprised if half your investors called in their loans tomorrow, I certainly would," Mathias continued easily rocking on the balls of his feet as he met his uncle's gaze. "I might have acted like a total a** tonight - but at least I was funny. You and Aunt Chris acted like complete animals tonight, I'm honestly - ashamed - to share a name with you. In fact I think most of the family is to be honest."

He took a step forward, not quite putting himself between Imara and Ned. But he was on a roll, and Richard had told him to own his actions - and that was exactly what he was going to do.

"They might call me the White Black Sheep, but that's only because I let them, you know what we call you?" He continued. "The slumlord, the cheapskate, the a*****e who works his people half to death for s**t-pay and even shittier benefits. Tonight could have gone smooth as butter - but you just HAD to prove that you're barely human, and treat that poor girl like she should be put on tribunal for warcrimes, and Imara here like she's some criminal mastermind. No, Ned, you overworked your poor staff and someone made a simple error - then Aunt Chris turned it into World War III. All the blowback, the fact that your entire staff walked out? That's on you. Good luck finding new ones - because word is going to get around that you're a serial abuser and nobody is going to suffer working for you. You'd be LUCKY if she DIEGNS to write about tonight in her blog because then at least you'd get some rubberneckers in here."

He took a deep breath then, then shot Imara a look.

"Not to speak for you," He nodded to her. "But, really, he's not worth the air, or the electricity."

One of these days, his more violent uncles were going to learn that you did not slug a punch at him and expect to walk away unscathed. His daily training had honed fighting into muscle memory. His head jerked back toward the source of movement even as Delilah let out her warning. The change was immediate, as his body reacted on instinct and the younger man had his arms up to guard and deflect the incoming punch.

What happened next was probably something of a blur for Ned, but for Mathias it was all rote instinctual movements. He barely had to give thought to them, so deeply ingrained as they were in his muscle memory, that the simple fact that he was under attack meant that he had to defend himself.

All three quick snap jabs were headshots, one to the nose, the other to the chin, and the third a hard shot to the temple. by the time he had slid back into a defensive side stance, his breathing easy and controlled, he forced himself to stop and relax, hoping he hadn't injured his older uncle too badly.

When. Would. They. LEARN!

He might have swore, vehemently under his breath. The sudden grip made him tense momentarily, but he was under control now, and he knew full well that there wasn't a threat. The fact that it was Imara pulling on his arm - she didn't need to tell him twice and as soon as she started moving, jerking really on him - he moved with her in lockstep.

The was not the first time he'd had to exit stage right, pursued by angry mob - but it was the first time he'd done so in the presence of someone he'd of rather NOT particularly witness him laying out his a*****e of an uncle for taking a swing at him.

Regardless, he shot an apologetic look to Delilah, Richard, and Eilzabeth, before he quickly turned and moved without another word after Imara.

Okay, well - there might have been a might more under his breath profanity involved.

He couldn't help it - he laughed.

"You don't know the half of it," He breathed, after getting the laughter out of his system and the catharsis it had brought. He'd been so wound up that the release was good - his whole body untensed all at once, and he was finally able to let out a long sigh. "They're not... all as bad as Ned. But he's the worst of the lot - pretty sure he loss the genetic lottery big time."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd seen the state of the kitchen - it was going to take a team of people to put that place back together. Ned's little tirade and stunts were going to cost him significantly - and...

"Thank you," He said. "This is twice now you've saved my a**."

There was an awkward moment, as he weighed his chances of asking her out for a beer - or coffee, just something to keep the conversation rolling, to get to know her better. To push what small advantage that he'd potentially gained tonight. Granted another part of him just... wanted to sketch her there in the dim light of the alleyway - them both having survived their harrowing ordeal.

"I didn't have to but... yeah," He shook his head. "You didn't have to save my a** either - either time. But yeah, we can call it even. It was Imara right?"

He had to fight the urge to sheepishly rub the back of his neck and ask her out for coffee. He had to fight the urge to offer to buy her a beer after their near miss with the back of a cop car.

"We should book it before Ned calls the cops, if he's even able to talk," He said. "You need a ride or anything? I'm parked close. Didn't... really figure I'd be hanging here that long."

"Cousin - actually that's not important..." He waved it off, again, not the first time he'd corrected his and Delilah's relationship, nor mentioned it wasn't really important. He could tell she wanted to get the hell out of there - and that she wasn't really looking forward to the next few hours - let alone days or weeks she was sure it was going to take her to find a new job.

"Not sure if you... kept my number or not," He said, doing his level best to not sound at all put out by the fact either way. But he reached into his suit pocket anyway, and offered her a rather well designed business card.

Yes, he always carried a stack of them - even to family events. You never knew when you might find a potential client after all... Not all of these things were family only after all.

"Delilah's going to want to find you a better job than this sty anyway, give me a call or hell - email me," He held the card out to her with two fingers. "I'll get you two connected and she'll find you a place with better hours, pay, benefits - you name it."

"You put up with Ned, for that you deserve a medal," He said with a nod. "The least we can do is get you settled into something to make up for his... well... bullshit."

He could of course, insist, demand that she take the card and that even if she didn't reach out they needed to do something to rectify the situation. But he could tell by her expression - even as it softened a tad - that she wasn't going to have any of it. He had to options. Dig in his heels and push...

He nodded, and just as quickly as the card had appeared, he slipped it back into his jacket pocket.

"No worries then," He said. "I can respect that."

They could respect that. She was a capable woman - she'd shown that much and more tonight. She did not want - nor likely need - his help. He'd already made a raging a*****e of himself that night, no need to make it worse.

God why were goodbyes so awkward?

"Well..." He said with a soft chuckle. "Hopefully the rest of your evening will be... a might score better than this."

God bless, but he really, really wanted to buy her a drink now.

Another time, perhaps. Who knew when their paths might cross again. Possibly never - but one could always hope. Her smile was...

Well he knew what he was probably going to be spending the rest of his evening doing - and the result of it was going to get securely locked away in the vault of paintings nobody ever saw. To say he was inspired was... well an understaement.

"Thanks!" He called after her, returning the wave with a shake of his head and a laugh. "I'll work on it."

As she went his way, he went his, heading toward the nearby carpark where he'd stashed his car the last time he'd been in the area - unfortunately going the opposite way she was.

It had been a crazy night - and he was sure the fallout was still going to be just as spectacular.