Jordan hadn't been to Grandpa's beach house in years. (Because it was sold shortly after his death, whispered a memory.) He'd missed the little cottage, the small, tidy rooms and the weathered porch that wrapped halfway around the structure, the small boardwalk that wandered over the dunes down to the beach itself.

His bare feet made the boards creak as he walked. The sea wind whipped though his hair, flung salt spray into his face. It smelled of ozone and kelp, and that smell, combined with the turbulent overcast of the sky above, told him that a storm was on the way. An hour, maybe two, and rain and wind would be lashing the roof and rattling the windows. He'd better be sure to be back inside by then.

Two figures waited for him at the end of the walk, one standing on the beach, one seated on the three steps down to the sand. Jordan stopped. "I've been expecting you," he said.

The other Jordan got up from the steps, stretching lazily, a careless gesture that spoke of relaxation and unconcern; Jordan's eyes narrowed slightly as he recognized it for what it was. The fragment was uneasy, uncertain, and covering it up with well-practiced confidence. In that other place, the fragment had worn neatly tailored clothing. Here, he wore jeans frayed soft and a hooded sweatshirt. He tucked his hands into the front pocket of the shirt and looked up at Jordan, smiling a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I'd hate to disappoint," he replied.

"Don't you always?" Jordan put his hands into his own pockets, realized he was mirroring what the fragment had done, decided after an instant to leave them there rather than nervously second-guessing himself. He saw the fragment's eyes dart to the motion, catching the slight jerk of indecision, and suppressed a scowl.

"You know me," the fragment drawled, his voice going light, skirting the edge of mockery. Behind him, the other Ferros shifted uncomfortably, watching both of them with trepidation.

"I don't like you," Jordan growled, no longer bothering to conceal his emotion behind a neutral expression. The fragment wasn't him, and was. He could read the fragment's quirks and tics as easily as if he was wearing them himself, because he often did. It would be stupid to assume that the fragment couldn't do the same.

The fragment shrugged, his eyes sliding away as the corners of his mouth tensed. "I don't expect anyone to like me. Not part of the job description." The other Ferros moved up behind him, settling a big hand on his shoulder, and the fragment glanced up at his weapon - no, his bodyguard - and smiled just slightly, some of the tension in his expression easing.

Jordan leaned against the railing of the walkway, listening to it creak. It needed repair, some reinforcement. Somebody should check the posts and replace the loosest boards in the walk. (Nobody would, because Grandpa was gone.) "You don't have anywhere to go," he stated.

"No." The tightness at the corners of the fragment's eyes and around his mouth returned. "I am reduced to relying on the kindness of strangers. Metaphorically." He shrugged. "Then again, we're not complete strangers, and you're certainly kinder than I."

Jordan couldn't help a slight smile. "Honesty is the best policy," he answered.

The fragment shrugged. "I'm an excellent liar," he said, "but you know all my tells." He laughed, a short sound without much humor. "Storm's coming. Are you going to let us in or leave us to it?"

"That's the question, isn't it?" Jordan stared at the fragment. Then he sighed, aware that his bluff was too transparent to give the fragment much concern. "Ferros, how about you?"

I'll accept him, the dragon said, subdued. Jordan could sense the weapon's attention focused on the figure behind Jordan's fragment. Worry lurked in the tall man's eyes, and the expression made Jordan's heart ache.

"Come on," he said, and turned back towards the beach house. "You already know my answer."

"I know," the fragment answered. Jordan could hear his footsteps as he climbed the steps, and a moment later, heavier footsteps behind him. "Thanks," the fragment added a moment later, his voice quiet and uninflected.

Jordan glanced back and watched the dream dissolving behind them, the horizon smearing into indistinct greys and greens. "Yeah," he said. "Sure."