New Orleans LA, May 29, 2003

The Garden District safehouse that was home to the Unified Guild of Thieves and Assassins was quiet on both the outside and the inside. Many of the people who resided there at least part time were still in their rooms, sound asleep. The guild patriarch, Remy LeBeau, known to many as Gambit, wasn't even home and the house was originally his. He was a mutant and a member of the outlaw superheros the X-Men. When he wasn't breaking up disputes between thieves and assassins, he spent his time in Westchester, NY with the rest of his second family.

Sitting at an elaborate computer set-up in a room on the second floor of the large house was a normally rambunctious, redhaired young man. He was a thief and a computer hacker named Emil Lapin, and in spite of the early morning hour, he had not yet gone to bed. He clicked away at the keyboard almost continuously, stopping every once in awhile to take a drink of his now-cold coffee or rub his blue eyes tiredly.

During one of those quick breaks, Emil suddenly froze, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Like all the thieves, Emil was trained with a type of sixth sense. He could sense the presence of others, especially those he knew fairly well. He glanced at the window warily and then, when the feeling didn't go away, he shivered and got up. 'Somethin' ain' right...but damn, if dis is jus' Gris tryin' to spook me I'll put poison in his pancakes next time it's my turn to make breakfast!'

Quietly and somewhat hesitantly, Emil walked down the hall of the second floor of the safehouse and descended the large staircase. Instinct took over and dictated his actions; he walked cautiously down the hallway on the main floor, to the kitchen at back of the large house. So far, he had heard and seen no one, but that didn't always mean no one was there. Something told him to go outside, but he paused with his hand on the doorknob. He absently thought about going back upstairs and waking someone up so he wouldn't have to go out alone and then scolded himself. 'For de love of Pete...dis is stupid, Lapin, an' you know it. Jus' open de damned door an' stop bein' such a baby!'

Emil did just that and stepped out onto the porch, shutting the door quietly behind him. The first faint signs of light were beginning to appear in the early morning sky, but already it was getting warm. Emil's sparkly blue eyes gazed around at all the shadows the trees and bushes made in the backyard but he saw nothing. The nagging feeling that someone was there refused to go away, however, so Emil scanned the yard again, this time moving closer to the stairs leading from the porch into said yard. It was then that he caught sight of a very familiar face.

"Shelby!" Emil exclaimed in surprise, a smile lighting up his pale, freckled features.

"Hi, Lapin." Shelby replied sheepishly, coming out of her hiding place behind a bush but not joining him on the porch just yet. "How'd you know I was here?"

Emil shrugged. "Trainin' kicked in. Felt your presence. Didn' know it was you, t'ough. We didn' t'ink you'd ever be comin' back, after de way you left."

Shelby flinched slightly at his gravity. Emil wasn't serious very often, but he gave her the impression that he and everyone else there had taken her leaving very seriously indeed. She sighed and knew she may as well start telling the truth. "I had to make the circumstances under which I left bad ones. But I always knew I'd be coming back."

Emil leaned on the railing that circled the porch, a quizzical expression on his face. "I'm not sure I follow..."

"I knew that if I told Questa or anyone else the truth, either before I left or in a letter afterwards, someone would either stop me from going or follow me." Shelby explained, sitting down on the grass in front of him and crossing her shapely legs. She leaned back on her hands and looked up at him. "And I couldn't risk that happening. It's not that I wanted to leave...I really didn't. But I felt that if I didn't go and at least try to do what I wanted to do, I'd end up being miserable here and leaving later under much worse circumstances. I couldn't risk that happening either."

"So...Questa wasn' de problem?" Emil probed. Shelby could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to wrap his mind around what she was telling him.

"No! Emil, I love Questa with all my heart...and that's why I left." Shelby said. "I know that doesn't sound right, but hear me out. While I was here, I learned, among other things, that Questa would never really be able to heal and put his past behind him as long as the threat was still there. As long as the people who hurt him for so long were still alive, they could still come here and get him again. You know as well as I do that he's been living in fear of them returning ever since I helped him escape from them last winter."

Emil's blue eyes widened in realization. "Shelby...you didn'...!"

Shelby chuckled. "Hey I'm in love with an assassin, what do you think? I left here in March, under the pretense of a lie, yes, but I knew even as I was telling that lie and following through with it...and it hurt me as much as it hurt Questa, believe me...that I was on a mission to eliminate that threat. And I knew that when I succeed, I would be returning."

"An' here you are."

A shrug. "And here I am. Luckily you guys told Stephen where I was, or I probably wouldn't be. He helped me do it, bless him. Always trusts his baby sister's judgement."

Emil looked at her for a long moment. "So you killed dem? All five of dem...former assassins...geez woman no wonder you didn' tell us de truth!"

"Do you blame me?"

"Hell no, chere! Bravest t'ing I t'ink I've ever heard of, to be honest. An' once everyone else knows, I'm sure dey'll feel de same way." Emil assured her. "Questa too. He really took dis whole t'ing hard, you leavin' an' all. Ain' come out of his room much since you left. But now you're back...an' wit' good news to boot."

"So...can I come in? This grass is more than a little damp even if it is warming up already."

"It's fine by me." Emil shrugged. "But I can' speak for de others. I'm kinda glad you're back actually. Now maybe he'll start actin' like a human bein' 'gain..." He walked down the stairs and held out his hand for Shelby, to help her off the grass. Together they walked up the steps and Emil opened the door to let both himself and Shelby into the safehouse when they were suddenly ingulfed in a large shadow.

Neither of them had known it, but they had been being watched through the kitchen window by Gris-Gris, the most feared man in the household. Six-foot-five Gris-Gris, who was the biggest, toughest, meanest and most easily angered person Shelby had ever known, was not only a powerful assassin and a voodoo master, but also Questa's godfather. And judging from the look on his dark features, the man was decidedly not happy to see her.

"Jus' where do you t'ink you're goin'?" Gris' deep voice demanded. When he talked like that, he always reminded Emil of Lieutenant Worf from Star Trek: The Next Generation but Emil had never found the nerve to mention it. Emil was never ashamed to admit he was terrified of the other man, because it was true. Gris-Gris could snap him in half, and he knew it. Why pretend to not be scared?

"Look, Gris, I had some things to take care of but now--" Shelby began, but she was interrupted by Gris, who was not in the mood to listen to her story.

"Non." He shook his head firmly. "I don' wan' hear it. If you t'ink you're jus' gon' come waltzin' back here so you can hurt him 'gain you got another t'ing comin' to you. You are not welcome in dis house or in his life an' dat is final."

Shelby nodded resolutely and looked at Emil, who she knew couldn't stand up to the assassin. She had known that Gris would react in that way. It didn't surprise her. Emil's eyes told her that he'd talk to the others for her and try to get someone to make Gris see reason. She smiled sadly at him and nodded, not saying a word. She handed him a scrap of paper and walked back down the steps and into the quickly disappearing shadows.

Once the door was shut behind them, Emil found his voice again. "Gris...c'mon...you didn' hear what she had to say..."

The big man whirled around on him and Emil backed against the wall, his voice dying into silence. "Dat's right. An' you ain' gon' tell me either, you got dat? She ain' welcome here. End of discussion." With that, Gris turned around again and stalked out.

Emil stayed where he was and a couple of minutes later he heard the sound of a door slamming upstairs. Only then did he dare to look at the piece of paper Shelby had given him. It had the name of a local hotel and a phone number. Obviously, Shelby had known something like this would happen and was playing it safe by staying at a hotel, probably with her brother, until things calmed down a bit. 'Smart girl. Knows some of us better'n we t'ought. But geez, Gris is bein' a jerk 'bout dis...I gotta talk to de other assassins...'

Five minutes later, Emil found himself knocking on three bedroom doors, having decided it was worth it to risk the early-morning wrath of three very dangerous people. He woke up Fifolet and Singer first, telling each of them that he needed to speak with both them and Bella Donna immediately. They followed him somewhat reluctantly to Bella Donna's room. Bella Donna Boudreaux was the viceroy of the unified guilds, and was in charge when Remy wasn't present. She had previously been matriarch of the assassins, and took special interest in things that involved them.

When the three assassins were seated around the room, they looked at Emil with a mix of curiosity and resentment in their faces. Emil gave them an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry I woke you guys up at dis hour, but I don' t'ink it can wait, to be honest. Shelby's back."

Three sets of eyebrows raised when that bombshell was dropped. Bella Donna frowned. "She actually had de nerve to come back after...? Where is she now?"

"Bel...relax, would you?" Emil was exasperated. "She ain' here, she's at de hotel she's stayin' at. I found her in de backyard a little while ago. She told me de truth 'bout why she left an' why she lied in order to do it."

Fifolet cocked his head to one side, his long dark hair cascading over his shoulder. "Wait...you mean all de t'ings she said weren' true?"

"Not a word, it would seem." Emil confirmed. "She left to track down and kill the five people who are responsible for Questa bein' de way he is. She saw how afraid he was dat dey'd come back an' get him...an' decided to take it upon herself to make sure dey never did. An' she promised herself she would not return until all five of dem were dead. Apparently, her brother helped her do it, after he tracked her down in Seattle."

"She killed dem..." Bella Donna murmured thoughtfully. "She went after dem an' killed dem...all b'cause she loves Questa. Dat's...I've never heard of someone doin' dat for one of us b'fore..."

Emil smiled, now that the story was mostly told. "Love's a strange t'ing, Bel, I t'ought you knew dat. Makes people do t'ings you'd never expect 'em do be capable of doin'."

Singer had been quiet during the entire conversation, her eyes hidden behind the glasses she always wore. "She lied 'bout why she was leavin' so dat none of us would try to stop her or go after her..." She commented after a brief silence had settled over the room.

"Dat's it exactly, Singer." Emil nodded. "She knew what she was going to do was dangerous and dat all of us would try to stop her, or go after her if we found out after she left. She didn' wan' risk dat, so she made up all dat stuff 'bout not bein' able to deal wit' everythin'."

"Well dere's certainly nothin' wrong wit' dat...b'cause we would have stopped her." Fifolet said. "She was crazy to go...but she succeeded in doin' somethin' we couldn' do an' I have to admit I'm impressed wit' her for dat. Why didn' she stay so she could tell us all de story herself?"

"Dat's why I had to wake you guys up." Emil sighed. "See, she told me all dis stuff outside, an' de door was shut. We didn' know it, but Gris was in de kitchen. He saw us talkin', but didn' hear what was bein' said, an' when I invited her to come in...he stopped us at de door. He made it very clear dat he was puttin' his foot down as Questa's godfather an' forbiddin' her to come back here or back into Questa's life. Dat's why she went to de hotel. I tried to tell Gris what she told me but he wouldn' listen."

"He doesn' have de right..." Singer observed. "An' neither do any of de rest of us. De only person in dis house who has de power an' right to tell Shelby whether she's welcome here or not is Questa."

"But if she never gets de chance to explain herself an' try to get his forgiveness..." Emil pressed.

"I'll speak wit' Gris-Gris." Bella Donna stated firmly. "Shelby should at least have a chance to talk to Questa in person. I agree dat Gris was out of place in his actions. Once I get t'ings settled wit' Gris, I'll let you know, Emil, an' would you call Shelby an' invite her back over so she can have her chance?"

"Of course." Emil replied, relief evident in his voice. "Good luck, t'ough. He didn' seem to be in de mood to hear anythin' 'bout it."

"We'll take care of it, Lapin. No need to wish us luck." Bel commented. "Now could you guys leave? I'd like to get a couple more hours of sleep b'fore tacklin' him."

Three hours later, Bella Donna knocked firmly on Gris-Gris' bedroom door. She had only slept for about an hour in that time, however. She spent the rest of the time lying in bed under her dark green comforter trying to figure out how she was going to succeed in making her right-hand man see reason in this situation. Finally she gave thinking about it up as a bad job and got dressed.

"Go away." Gris' familiar voice boomed from inside the room. Bel rolled her eyes at the ceiling and shook her head. She was a telepath, albeit not a very strong one, and she had connections to each of the other assassins that not many people would have been able to guess.

"Well either I come in so we can talk about dis in person, or we can do it mentally, Gris, which would you prefer? I'm up for either."

The sudden appearance of Bella Donna's mental voice inside his mind did not startle the voodoo master. He had figured it was she who had knocked on his door. With a resigned sigh because he really hated talking telepathically, he spoke again.

"Okay fine, you win. De door's open."

Bella Donna opened the door and entered the dark room, careful to shut the door once she was inside. Gris' room matched his personality perfectly; it was decorated in dark browns and black. Quite depressing for most people, but Gris seemed to like it. Bel knew he didn't feel at home in the safehouse, so having one room where he could feel like himself was a good thing for all of them. "T'ank you. Now...why do you t'ink you can jus' decide for Questa if Shelby returns or not?"

Gris glared at the blonde woman standing across from him. He admired her greatly, and in his own way he loved her the way he might love a niece or cousin, but there were times when she drove him absolutely crazy. "She hurt him an' I will not stand by an' let her do it 'gain."

"But dat's not your choice to make, Gris. An' I get de feelin' she hurt herself jus' as much as she hurt him." Bel said. Before he got a chance to speak, she continued. "If you heard what she was telling Emil, you wouldn' have stopped her. She lied to us when she gave her reasons for leavin', b'cause her real reason was very dangerous an' she didn' want us to stop her or follow her. She knew we would if we knew de truth."

Gris snorted, but a flash of interest crossed his dark face. "An' jus' what was de truth...?"

"She realized dat Chandler, Percy an' de others were gon' be a constant threat in Questa's life if somethin' wasn' done. She knew you an' Fifolet tried an' failed to kill dem. She left to try an' succeed where we failed, b'cause she hated to see what de ever present possibility of dem returnin' was doin' to Questa..."

Gris stared at Bella Donna as if she had just spoken Chinese, something he knew for a fact she couldn't do. "Is dat girl stark ravin' mad?" He demanded in shock. "You mean to tell me she single-handedly went after five professional killers?"

Bella Donna laughed. "What she is, is in love with Questa. Very much so, I t'ink. An' yes, dat is exactly what I'm sayin'. Not only dat, but she got her brother to help her an' from what Emil told me earlier...dey succeeded. B'cause apparently she'd decided dat she wouldn' return to New Orleans until dey were all dead."

"Mon dieu...she an' dat brother of hers actually went an' killed dem. Without bein' worried 'bout de consequences or anythin'...an' all dat jus' b'cause she loves Questa an' wanted to help him put de past behind him." Gris mused aloud. "I t'ink I owe dat girl an apology."

"I t'ink you're right." Bel smiled at him. She could tell he was just as impressed as she and the others had been. It took something really strong and powerful to cause a non-Guild member to do what Shelby did. There weren't many people in the world capable of it. 'Jean said once dat Shelby was Questa's soul-mate...dat dey were destined to be together. I never quite understood dat b'fore, b'cause while it seemed like she was right sometimes, at other times, Shelby was jus' so diff'rent from all of us, even Questa. But now...now I understand. An' Jean was right.'

Ten minutes later, it was Gris who knocked on Emil's door. He had asked Bella Donna if he could be the one to ask Emil to call Shelby, but he had other reasons for wanting to do that.

"Come in." Emil's cheery voice called from the other side of the door.

Gris opened the door and had to chuckle at the shocked look he was given by the young thief. "Don' worry, Lapin. I jus' wan' talk for a second. First of all...I'm...sorry...for not givin' Shelby or you a chance to explain. Bella Donna told me de whole story an' I realized I overreacted, as usual."

"Apology accepted Gris." Emil said, trying to hide the unease that always found its way into his voice when he was around the assassin. He and Gris-Gris were like oil and water, and living in the same house as each other was a strain for both. But at least they were trying to make an attempt.

"Bella Donna said you knew how to contact Shelby." Gris stated after an awkward silence.

"Yes." Emil replied. "Got de number right here. Should I call her now?"

"Actually...I owe her an apology as well, an' she might find it easier to come back here if she knows dat I'm not gon' throw her out 'gain." Gris admitted. "Would you mind if I made de call?"

Emil actually smiled. "Of course not. Here." He handed Gris the paper. "Go for it...but I have to say, I'd love to be a fly on de wall of dat hotel room when she hears your voice on de other end of de phone...!"

Gris-Gris took the paper and went downstairs to the hall where the cordless safehouse phone was plugged into the charger. He picked it up and took it back to his room, after making sure it was charged okay. Then he dialed the number and when greeted by the desk clerk at the hotel, asked to be patched to the room where the Sloans were staying. After a brief time on hold, during which Gris decided he hated elevator music, he was connected to the correct room.

Stephen answered the phone when it rang. He wasn't surprised, as Shelby had told him she was expecting someone to call from the safehouse. "Hello?"

"Can I talk to Shelby, s'il vous plait?" Gris asked, as politely as he knew how. He'd been hoping Shelby would answer the phone herself, and Stephen caught him off-guard.

"Sure, just a sec." Stephen recognized Gris' voice but didn't tell Shelby who it was when he handed her the phone.

"Hello?" Shelby said.

"Hi..." Gris was suddenly at a loss for words, something that didn't often happen. He could have kicked himself.

Shelby glared at the phone. "What do you want now, Gris? Haven't you said enough?" She demanded, getting ready to hang up the phone.

"Shelby don' hang up...please." Gris said quickly.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't." Shelby replied.

"I'm sorry for kickin' you out earlier an' for not listenin' when you an' Lapin tried to explain t'ings." Gris said, the words coming out of nowhere. "How's dat for a good reason?"

Shelby had to smile. She had never once in the year she'd known him, heard Gris-Gris apologize for anything. "That'll do. So you know the story now?"

"Oui. Lapin told Bella Donna, Fifolet an' Singer jus' after you left, I guess. An' a few minutes 'go, Bella Donna told me. We're all really kind of impressed wit' you right now, girl, y'know dat, don' you?"

"No, I didn't know that."

"Well, we are. You mus' be either de bravest non-Guild member in de known universe, or, as I put it b'fore when Bella Donna told me, stark ravin' mad." Gris chuckled. "So...uhm...will you come back in a little while so you can talk to Questa an' see what he has to say 'bout all dis?"

"You won't kick me out?"

"I won' kick you out. I promise. An' b'fore you ask, no he doesn' know. We figured he should find out everythin' from de one person who matters most to him. You."

"Thank you. I'll be over shortly."

Twenty minutes later, Shelby was at the backdoor of the safehouse and this time Gris-Gris didn't throw her out, but rather let her in with the warmest smile he was capable of giving. "He's in his room, as always. We told de t'ieves what's goin' on, an' none of us will bother you. You can' really be expected to do dis wit' all of us breathin' down your neck."

With a pounding heart and trembling legs, Shelby went up the stairs and down the second-floor hallway to Questa's room. He was awake; she could hear him inside turning the pages of a magazine. She took a deep breath and raised her right hand, knocking gently on the door. There was no going back now.

Questa, thinking it was Emil or Bella Donna or someone, absently wished they'd all just leave him alone. 'Why can' dey jus' get it dat I don' want company?' He couldn't just tell whoever it was to go away, however, because he knew from past experience that no one in that house would listen. They were all as stubborn as he was. Finally, he said aloud,

"C'min."

Shelby's heart nearly broke when she heard how melancholy and miserable Questa's voice sounded. She hated that she was the one who caused him to be that way, at least this time. She opened the door slowly and looked at him quickly before he looked up to see who his visitor was. Her heart ached for him; he was pale, tired-looking and quite a bit thinner than he'd been when she'd left. The past couple of months had hit him hard. It was obvious just from looking at him that he was severely depressed. Shelby felt so responsible and sorry for it, even though she had left to do something that would help him, that she let a sigh escape, causing him to finally look up.

Questa's dark blue eyes widened in a mixture of shock, relief, fear and the slightest hint of anger. He blinked a couple of times, trying to make sure he was really seeing her. He found he could only say one word when he realized she was really there.

"Shelby..."

1-5: REVELATIONS