Summary: When singer Tina Correr comes to town, Joe begins to feel the repercussions first introduced in "A Look in the Mirror." Story 2 in this virtual continuation of the Viper 1994 season.

Author's Notes: This and its prequel "A Look In The Mirror" all take place in the 1994 season and disregard the continuation of the series. For those new to the series, the end of "A Look In The Mirror" has a summary. Let me know if I've lost you. You may e-mail me with any questions you may have. Viper belongs to Pet Fly productions (the car to Dodge). All the original characters belong to their creators at Pet Fly. Any other characters belong to me (Aiko Chan, "A Look in The Mirror," Tina Correr, "Amends.") The songs "Sacrifice" and "Año Nuevo" belong to me. Do not use them or my characters without permission, please. The lyrics for "Where or When" can be found at http://www.vex.net/~buff/sinatra/cgi/arch.cgi/Where_or_When

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Amends
Evil Overlady

- Prologue -

Joe Astor wove through the crowd towards the beautiful voice of the blonde Tina Correr, singing what Frankie said was titled "Sacrifice."

"Great, isn't it?!" Frankie shouted over the crowd.

"I know this song," Joe replied, lifting a finger as if to physically work the memory from his mind.

"What?" Frankie yelled.

"I said I know this song! I think I heard it from my past!"

"Told you you wouldn't regret this," Frankie commented, clearly not hearing or simply not registering what he was saying.

Joe Astor's memories of once being criminal Michael Payton were artificially blocked by a device in his head. To remember something Joe didn't remember was something to be concerned about, but evidently he wasn't getting that through to Frankie.

Or maybe Joe just wanted to believe Michael Payton had once heard the song. Recovering from momentarily flipping to Michael Payton a few weeks ago, the latter thought was also feasible.

A flash of red caught Joe's eyes and a tiny red dot glided up the woman's white costume to rest on her head.

The ex-thief was fast, plowing over fans to climb onto the stage.

He bolted past a security guard and rushed towards the singer.

Joe knocked her to the ground.

The shot exploded above them.

Someone screamed in the crowd below and people pushed against one another to find safety.

"Up there!" a security guard cried. "East catwalk!"

"I thought we had that section secured!" another added.

Miss Correr was muttering beneath him. "Damn sons-of-bitches. What the hell am I paying 'em for?" She turned to Joe. "Thanks, pal. I owe you one."

"Just trying to help."

She looked up at him with bright green eyes, familiar eyes.

She was younger, barely in her twenties, long blonde hair dripping warm water, a frilly white shower curtain strategically placed over her slender naked body.

Joe could feel the dark bag at his side, bulging with jewelry, and he froze.

Green eyes widened. "Brock!! Get in here!!"

Somehow his legs moved beneath him and he scrambled for the bedroom window. She saw me. She saw me!

"Hey!" the now older woman gripped his arm and shook him. "You okay, pal? You look like you've just seen a ghost."

He looked at her, but his answer was silent. He had... and his name was Michael Payton.

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Amends
Evil Overlady

- Chapter 1 -

Julian Wilkes wheeled his wheelchair to the back door, framed with wood with glass panes showing the silhouette of a tired ash blond man in a brown jacket. Julian opened the door. "You're back early. Frankie have a little disagreement with the doorman?"

Julian did a one-eighty and headed back to the kitchen, leaving Joe to close the door. "Can I get you anything?"

"No, thanks. There was an accident. The show was cut short."

Julian faced him again. "Did you manage to get a CD for you-know-who?"

"CD?..."

Julian cleared his throat. "A... certain young lady?"

He winced. "Oh... Ronnie's birthday. I'm sorry, Julian. I forgot all about it. I'll make it up to you. I promise."

"Hey, don't look at me. You're the once who wanted to get her something. It's not the end of the world if all you get is the cake."

"Sometimes, it feels like it is..."

Dark skin furrowed. "What's up? Something happen at the concert?"

Blue eyes met brown. "I had a flashback."

"Whoa. When? Just now?"

"At the concert. Some sniper tried to take out Tina Correr."

"Is she all right?"

"She's fine. I managed to get to her in time, but then..." Joe paced the dining room, grabbing air with his hands, forming fists. "I was in her apartment. She was in the shower singing 'Sacrifice,' and I had a bag full of jewelry. She saw me... I never felt so frightened in my life..."

"Was it Doctor Samuels again? Trying to send you another message?"

"No, no... Not anything like that. Those were just images. This I just felt more than saw..." He faced Julian, wondering what the Viper's creator made of the information.

"Did you tell Frankie any of this?"

"No. He was too busy trying to woo Miss Correr into giving him an autograph. I don't know what to do, Julian. I think I should try to find out who that sniper was, but to do that I'd need to talk to her, and I'm scared to death to do that."

"Maybe we should let Metropol handle it. These things happen, Joe. An overzealous fan, an ex-boyfriend. Sounds to me by the description of your flashback you didn't really know her."

"But I stole from her. I don't know how much or what for but it seems to me I owe her something."

"You owe her or you owe yourself?"

Joe glared at him.

"All I'm saying is you're basing too much on a fragment of memory. You were a thief with a debt to pay to society. I'll admit that. But right now there's more at stake than just some jail time. There's the Viper, your ties to Frankie and to me and to Gerraro or even to Delia. The Outfit's got strings in every division of the judicial system. A guilty conscience is not an easy thing to live with, Joe, but sacrificing your new way of life for an old one is even harder."

Joe tensed at the paraphrasing of Tina Correr's song. "You're probably right. I'll, uh, see you tomorrow about the cake."

"Listen, Joe. I can't pretend to know how you feel, but with all that flipping back and forth between Michael Payton and Joe Astor, it's possible some of those old memories could be resurfacing. You're in for some rough times. I just want you to know we're all here for you."

"Thanks. That means a lot to me." Joe left.

"I hope so," Julian said softly to himself.

* * * * *

A golden brush stroked smooth, silky blonde hair as Tina Correr sat on a bench in her nightgown watching her reflection and that of a muscled Italian-American man behind her. "You should've let me tell the cops, Tony."

"And risk telling 'em all our shady dealings?"

"I could've died tonight! All because we ran into a little local competition. We're always running into local competition. It's getting to the point where it's no longer fun and games. Damnit, Tony, I have a three year old daughter to think about!"

"Tina, Tina..." He scooped some of her hair from in front of her to her back, exposing a delicate neck which he just barely brushed with his lips as he watched her in the mirror. "It's only two more days. One and a half really. We'll be packing up the morning after tomorrow."

"That's not soon enough, Tony. I want to leave tomorrow. Tomorrow night at the latest."

"But that would look suspicious and would not give us enough time to complete our job."

"To hell with the job! We're talking about our lives here, Tony!"

"Now, Tina," he chided, dark eyes cold and animal. "You and I both know it is your life that is in danger. If you see fit to let some information slip through those... beautiful lips of yours." He touched a finger to them pointedly.

"Tony, I would never..." She trembled.

Thick fingers wrapped around her hair and yanked, pulling her head back. "No, you wouldn't or you just might have to be a little more concerned about that little girl staying at your mother's."

She shook but said nothing.

He released her. "Keep singing and keep your trap shut. My men and I will deal with this hit man, and perhaps after this job if I am satisfied I will let you go back to your family."

She nodded, eyes lowered.

"You missed a spot." He tossed her hair to her front again as he stomped out.

She waited for the door to close and broke into tears.

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Amends
Evil Overlady

- Chapter 2 -

Lieutenant Sally Gerraro locked her car door behind her and strode up the walkway to her house.

The bushes rustled and she spun, gun drawn.

She lowered her aim with an audible sigh. "If I was just a little less tired you'd be kissing pavement."

"I suppose loitering at your front door would've been safer," Joe replied, carrying something in his arm. His motorcycle helmet? She'd thought he always left that with the bike.

A faint aroma drifted to her nostrils, sparking a sudden craving for some solid food. The policewoman lived almost exclusively off black coffee. Anything else she consumed was a blur. "Might've been. At least then I could be pretty sure you didn't have a rag soaked in chloroform."

"Yeah. Sorry about that. Seems like I'm making nastier and nastier enemies since I liberated the Viper."

"I can take it. What's in the bag?" Gerraro put her gun back in her shoulder holster.

Joe hoisted the paper sack. "Takeout. Though you might be up for a late supper. ...That is if you're not still angry with me."

She studied him a moment, just to see if he'd break into a defensive stance or at the very least flinch.

He did neither, just waited patiently for an answer.

"Bribery's not one of your strong points, Astor." She knew he wanted something from her. Forgiveness... Information on a case... It didn't matter.

Oh! But it smelled so tasty! She licked her lips unconsciously. "...But you're learning." She turned to the door and brought out her keys.

"What happened to the Sally Gerraro who couldn't be bought?"

"Asleep at the helm." Gerraro unlocked the door. "You'll know when she wakes up, though."

"Why does that sound like a threat?"

"Because it is."

"Somehow, I knew you were going to say that."

Gerraro flipped on the lights and made her way to the kitchen. "Then why ask?"

Joe closed the door. "To hear you say it."

She eyed him and extended a hand. "Bag."

"Say, 'please.'"

"Relinquish that food or I'll be forced to shoot you."

"Close enough." He placed it on the counter and she proceeded to pull out cartons of Chinese food and line them up on the counter like a firing squad. "Sorry. It's a little cold."

"Food's food." She opened a carton and dug in.

Joe selected one for himself and gestured to the kitchen table. "Would you like to sit down? Or had you forgotten you had a table?"

"I said I didn't know what my place looked like. I know what I have." She made her way to the table munching along the way.

"Before the stalwart and true Sally wakes up... Did you happen to hear what happened tonight at Tina Correr's performance?"

"Hit men after singers aren't exactly my cup of tea, Joe."

"But you were assigned to the case." He didn't need to wait for Frankie for that information.

"Since being kidnapped by the Outfit, Captain Pomeroy's been trying to steer me away from them any chance he gets."

"Not a bad idea."

"It's lame. I didn't make lieutenant by writing traffic tickets, Astor. I'm an investigator and a damn good one."

"...Who needs to lay low for a bit. There are more ways into a house than just the front door. Maybe if you're not breathing down their necks twenty-four/seven they'll find something more important to think about."

"Like the Viper?"

He shrugged but said nothing.

"You're a real cowboy, Joe, but playing bait isn't gonna make me feel any better."

"But bringing you food does. Am I right?" He gestured at their meal, reminding them of their incomplete exchange: food for info.

She let him change the subject but not before making a mental note to bring it up again sometime. She needed to find a way to prove herself to the captain. "Kisko took her statement. I was just working evidence. That's how we divvy up the work between us." She looked at him. "Is there a specific reason this case interests you?"

"If I answered that you'd have to owe me dinner."

"Really? Dinner? For a simple question."

"This is a simple question. What did you and Kisko find out? ...If I don't find out from you I can find out from Frankie. Then, you'd be indebted to me."

"What about that date we didn't have due to an unscheduled abduction?"

"I took you to Red Lobster."

"Where you kept trying to grab my nose with that leftover claw? You call that a date?"

"Well, I might've gone too far with the claw, but, yes, I call that a date."

"What about that time-"

"Uh, uh, uh... You're stretching. ...But I'll cut you some slack. Julian's older daughter's a fan of her music and her birthday's coming up. I figure... it might be nice if Miss Correr didn't die on that special day."

"This mean I owe you dinner?"

"And I have a few personal reasons of my own. ...Now, you owe me dinner."

"That doesn't count, Astor. I didn't agree to..."

"'Dinner for a simple question,' you said."

"You know what I meant."

Joe's turquoise-blue eyes simply sparkled innocently.

"Fine. Dinner it is."

"Shall I make a note?"

"I'll remember," she said in a don't-insult-my-intelligence tone.

Joe prodded at his food. "So what'd you find out?"

"Very little. Forensics found the bullet lodged in the stage and they're running it through the database now. I doubt we're going to get anywhere unless we physically find the gun that fired it. Must've been more concerned about getting caught than killing her, though."

"Why do you say that?"

"Our suspect was on the east catwalk. Security was very light there. They thought the place too unstable for someone to walk on. Not too unstable for our suspect, apparently. The guy had maybe five to ten minutes before he'd risk being seen. He could've pulled off another shot, but instead he bolted."

"If the catwalk was unstable, couldn't security have made it inaccessible?"

"You would think so. We're running them all through the system. Right now it just looks like a case of carelessness."

"Let's hope so. What did Miss Correr have to say about all this?"

"Shook up but clueless as to who would want her killed. Kisko thinks she's hiding something. I'd have to agree with him."

"You think she's protecting the someone who's trying to kill her?"

"I wouldn't know. Like I said, we essentially have nothing." She poked at her empty carton.

"Well, you've done your best. Thanks for the tip." He stood, picking up his brown leather jacket off the back of his chair.

"Wait. You're not going to finish eating?"

"Naw... I'm not all that hungry." He pulled on the jacket.

"Joe... If you know something about this case..."

"I don't." He pulled out his gloves. "But I'll let you know if I do... I just have something to take care of - on my own. I'll find you again tomorrow."

"Tomorrow night, here, six-thirty."

Joe lifted an ash blond eyebrow.

"Our dinner date. My IOU."

Joe grimaced apologetically. "I can't. I promised to help Julian and Mara stash presents. Maybe Saturday?"

"Maybe. I'll let you know."

"Great." He turned.

"Hey, Joe!"

Joe half-turned back.

"Be careful."

"Yeah." He left.

Gerraro landed her chin on intertwined fingers.

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Amends
Evil Overlady

- Chapter 3 -

Morning light poured into the empty police motor pool onto vehicles but no one yet working on them.

Humming part of "Sacrifice," Frankie jogged up the metal stairs to his office, an ear piece in his left ear and a CD player in one hand.

He started into the chorus and put a file on his desk.

"Frankie."

"Hello!" He yanked the ear piece from his ear and spun.

Joe was tapping his folded sunglasses to his chin, sitting casually in a spare chair.

"Would you warn me when you do that?"

"I thought I did."

"Hmph."

Joe gestured with the sunglasses. "You're not listening to Ronnie's present are you?"

"I am a fan but I am not a fanatic." He reached into his desk and brought out an unopened package and handed it over with a few dollars and some change. "Here. You know, if you'd stuck around a few minutes more you could've bought it yourself."

Joe pocketed the change and looked over the colorful CD case and the songs listed on the back. "No, if I'd done that I would've had to answer questions. Speaking of which, how'd your story work out?"

"She told the police she was rescued by an adult white male. Nothing specific and the truth. No one else got a good look either, with all the lights." Frankie looked at him. "Would you like to let me in on the real story or do I have to guess?"

"The laser sighting must've hit me in the eyes. I followed it. Nothing to it."

"Apparently not to Miss Correr. She wanted you to have this when you walked out." Frankie handed over a black case.

Joe pocketed the CD for Ronnie and took the case. "What is it?"

"No idea."

Joe found the edge and opened it. A small photo lay inside of the singer with an autograph. "The flowers of spring and the birds that sing. Good fortune becomes you."

Frankie shrugged.

Joe frowned. "Sounds familiar." He lifted the photo and underneath was a data disk.

* * * * *

At the power station Joe made his home and the Viper its home base, Julian placed the disk into the computer system and tapped a few keys. "The data's encrypted. This could take a while."

Joe paced behind him, a cup of coffee in hand, putting one for Julian on the desk. "It came with a note: 'The flowers in spring and the birds that sing. Good fortune becomes you.' Does that mean anything to you?"

"It could be a riddle, something with a one-word answer that makes up the password."

"Something Michael Payton knew the answer to."

Julian turned his wheelchair slowly, picking up his mug. "You think she knew him."

"Knew me," Joe corrected.

Julian relented with a nod. "So you have a puzzle and the only way to solve it is to find a way to deactivate that device in your head and make you Michael Payton again." The tone was sarcastic.

"There's another way," Joe replied. "I just don't know what it is."

"It'll take at least a few hours for the computer to decide whether or not it can decrypt the information. You might try talking to Miss Correr."

Joe shook his head. "No. If Gerraro's right and she's hiding something, going back might endanger Miss Correr's life again. She wanted me to have this. I'll have to figure this out on my own."

"All right. ...I'll head down to the store to pick up some more streamers. And the cake?"

"Put an order in this morning."

"All right. ...I was going to come back in a couple of hours. Will you be here?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna browse through Payton's things. See if anything clicks."

"Okay." Julian took a few large swallows of coffee and put the cup down. "Be back in a few hours."

Julian made his way to his van while Joe collected the mug and went up the spiral staircase to his roost.

He put Ronnie's yet-to-be-wrapped present on the dinner table and strode over to his stereo system, pulling out a CD of Frank Sinatra's songs he'd bought for himself a while ago for the one song he knew Michael Payton listened to, "Where or When." He keyed in the track number and hit play.

Saxophones slowly filled the air.

"Meow?" The young black cat Joe had found as a stray kitten wove through the cushioned chairs.

"Hey, Shadow," Joe greeted softly. "Hungry?"

The cat purred and rubbed against his leg.

Joe put down some fresh water and dry cat food and lay back on the couch, closing his eyes, thinking back to Tina Correr's face...

Blue eyes snapped open. He grabbed the remote and hit stop.

It was a song! It was a song she sang...

"Año Nuevo!" Joe jumped to his feet and flew down the spiral staircase two steps at a time. His fingers raced along the keyboard, keying in a special command for the lower-case "n."

Access Granted

He was in.

There were blueprints and what appeared to be markings of lines of attack. Security desk... Elevator... Skylights...

These were robbery plans.

He found the name of the place.

Vectrocom.

"Will these guys ever learn?"

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Amends
Evil Overlady

- Chapter 4 -

"Mara's gonna kill me," Julian grumbled as Joe dressed up in black.

"Then, don't get involved."

"If the Viper's gonna be a part of this I am involved." He looked worriedly at the thievery gear. "What do you intend to do?"

"I'm going to get there before they do."

"And steal it first?" Julian was not liking this plan.

"No. The satellite belongs in Vectrocom's hands. I'm just going to make sure it stays that way."

"Why don't we just call in a tip to Metropol? Let them handle it."

"The last time that happened I ended up with a broken leg and arm in the county general hospital and the satellite - not to mention the car it was in - totaled. Look, why are you being so reluctant about this? I thought you wanted to use the Viper to fight crime."

"I do! It's just..." Julian looked sadly at him. "Ronnie's birthday's tomorrow, Joe."

"They'll never get that far."

"Joe..."

"I have to do this, Julian. I have to make amends..."

"To who? Tina? She probably doesn't even remember you."

"To Vectrocom. I stole one of their satellites. I intend to save this one. ...And to myself."

* * * * *

Tina Correr walked up to the vid phone, secure in her black wig and brown contact lenses, hating herself for letting Tony talk her into this. "I have a package for Dr. Cole. Needs a signature." She held up the clipboard, let the aging security guard at the other end take in her postal uniform.

He looked her up and down. "All right."

The screen went blank. The buzzer beside her sounded.

Tina made it to and up the elevator with no problems.

When the doors chimed open she was almost disappointed to see only the one guard.

Damnit. This is gonna go down. And if Tony felt so inclined she was going to take the fall. The urgency she'd communicated to the guy with the fluffy hair had to have tipped off Tony that she had a copy of the plans.

Too much of a risk to keep her around for further operations.

Give it to the guy who'd rescued her, she'd told the fan, in gratitude for his saving her life, all the while hoping one of them knew something about what was going on. That a popular singer didn't just happen to turn up on the Outfit's hit list.

Now, she knew better. They were clueless. They were all clueless, and they'd probably stay clueless even after she was locked up, likely to never see her daughter again.

Tina stepped forward, but the skylights exploded above her.

Glass showered her, and she screamed, shielding her eyes with tan sleeves.

One of the four dark-clothed accomplices zipped down his line to land behind her. "Help-" she cried as a strong arm wrapped around her neck.

"You don't want to do that," Tony warned.

The guard was about to reach for his gun but thought better of it, raising his hands above his head.

"Now, unlock all the doors."

The guard looked to Tina.

Tony clicked the cock on his gun. "I won't ask again."

"Please..." Tina begged.

The guard turned his eyes to Tony and rushed towards the desk, towards the alarm button.

Tony opened fire.

"No!" There wasn't time to avert her eyes.

The guard burst into a shower of rainbows.

Tina blinked. "Huh?"

The chair behind the desk moved with a force of its own, slamming into Tony, knocking him to the ground.

The guard popped out from behind the desk, gun drawn, aim taking in the two other would-be thieves. "Drop the weapons, kids."

A dark form pummeled Tony till he lay still, and the victor turned.

She couldn't believe her eyes! It was the man at the performance!

He held the gun sideways, like a criminal. "Let 'er go, pal."

"I know you!" The voice behind her belonged to Brock, Tony's right-hand man. "You're that thief from ten years ago."

"Ex-thief," came her rescuer's reply. "I'm paying my debt to society, and you're surrendering. There are over a dozen squad cars on the way. You're not going anywhere, so I suggest you let her go."

"Like hell." He elbowed the key for the elevator.

"I'll shoot," the man warned.

"And risk hitting your girlfriend? I think not."

The door chimed open.

"Brock, don't do this-" Tina began.

"Later," Brock saluted and threw her inside, closing the doors after him.

* * * * *

He couldn't do it. He couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger. "Julian, lock down the elevators!" Joe tossed a few ties to the guard before bolting for the stairs.

"Guess that's how we ended up taking the more direct approach."

"Never mine." More of Michael Payton's memories must've been slipping past the implant than he'd thought. "Patch into the probe's controls. There should be a getaway car in the back. See if you can tag it. I'm heading that way now."

"Just lucky I guess."

* * * * *

"Brock, we don't have to do this! We can turn ourselves into the police and be out in a few years!"

"Maybe you can. I'm not a popular singer. Now, get in the car." He opened the passenger door and shoved her in, running around the car to climb into the driver's seat.

"You'd rather die in a high-speed chase?!"

"Anything's better than the joint, sweetheart." He floored it, tearing out of the parking garage.

"Brock, I can't do this! I can't make my daughter an orphan!"

"Should've thought about that before you had her."

Police sirens blared from one direction but Brock turned another way.

She watched the red and blue lights in the rear-view mirror when a gray silhouette cut in behind them. "What in the world is that?"

Brock jerked nervously at the image but didn't say anything.

It was a beast of a car. Tinted windows, glow-in-the-dark blue headlights in predatory slits above what resembled a pair of fangs.

"That guy's driving like a maniac," Brock gasped, pulling sharp turns to try to lose him.

"I thought no one drove as well as you."

"Apparently, I was mistaken..." He sounded sincerely worried.

Something opened up on the pursuing car's left side and a ball of electricity shot towards them.

"Brock!"

Sparks crawled along the doors and dashboard, and the engine died.

Only momentum moved the car now.

"What the hell is happening? This is impossible!"

The car rolled to a stop, followed by the vehicle behind them.

"Step out of the vehicle with your hands in the air!" came her champion's voice over the megaphone.

Brock grabbed her by the arm and yanked her out of the car with him. "You want me, ex-thief?! Here I am!" He pressed a gun to her arm.

Their pursuer was braced on the door frame of the driver's door. "Let her go, Brock. She's not worth it."

"No! If I'm going down, then she's going down with me." He raised the gun to her head.

"No!" she screamed.

The ex-thief fired.

Brock and Tina fell to the pavement.

"Tina, roll away from him!"

She grasped the gunshot wound in her shoulder.

"Tina, roll away from him, now!"

Weeping in pain she rolled towards the underbelly of the car.

The ex-thief ran up to them, gun steady. With his foot, he slid the gun away from Brock.

Brock moaned in pain, blood on his shoulder as well.

A siren blared behind them and two doors opened.

"Kisko, don't shoot! He's on our side!" a woman yelled.

Slowly, her rescuer stepped back, lowering his gun.

A man in eyeglasses pushed past him to handcuff Brock.

"Nice catch, Astor," the woman commented, holstering her weapon.

"Astor?" Tina repeated. "Is... Is that your name?"

"'Joe' will do fine," he answered, holstering his own piece.

"Miss Correr..." The woman tilted her head Tina's way.

"Guess there's no use pretending." Tina peeled off the black wig and plucked out the contacts, returning her hand to her wounded shoulder.

"You tipped us off to an important robbery," the woman continued. "I'll be sure the judge keeps that in mind before sentencing you."

"How long will I have to do?"

"That all depends on the FBI. If you're lucky, they might even sign you on as an informant. ...Given your ties to the Tong."

"I hope so."

"Right now I'm going to have to place you under arrest."

"I'm through running."

The woman pulled out a pair of handcuffs, helped Tina to her feet, and put them on.

They were about to leave together when Joe stopped them. "There's just one thing I wanted to know. That night in the apartment. Did I... take anything?"

Tina frowned. "You don't know?"

"He has a memory problem."

"No. ...No, you just dropped the bag and ran. ...After giving me that towel. I'm glad to see you've changed your ways. ...But you are all around a sweet guy. ...Thanks for saving my neck... twice. I guess I owe you."

"Get your life together. That's payment enough." He smiled. "And, if you can, keep singing."

Green eyes looked at him with sudden realization. "You decrypted that disk."

"Thanks to a verse of one of your songs."

"One of my earliest. Maybe I'll sing it to you sometime."

"Maybe you'll sing it for the Tong."

"Yes... Maybe."

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Amends
Evil Overlady

- Epilogue -

"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Ronnie! Happy birthday to you!" Together, Julian, Mara, and Joe lay the lit cake on the dinner table.

The twelve-year-old was beaming with pride and joy.

"Make a wish," Mara prodded her daughter.

Ronnie closed her eyes a moment then blew out all twelve stubborn candles.

"Hurray!" The family clapped.

Lucy giggled from the baby chair, reaching a hand for the vanilla frosting before Mara intercepted her.

The white cake had a picture of the Viper in Defender mode with the red cursive letters, "Happy 12th, Ronnie!"

Julian mildly disapproved, thinking Joe could've come up with something a little less conspicuous.

Every child has to have a hero, Joe explained. And what better hero than the one her very own dad created?

Ronnie cut into the double-chocolate cake and put a piece on a paper plate. "Have a piece, Dad."

Julian eyed her. "You didn't plant one of your inventions in it, did you?"

Ronnie smiled innocently. "Of course not! I saved that for Joe's piece."

Joe blinked, surprised, midway through pouring glasses of milk.

Julian laughed softly.

"You certainly have quite an influence on the kid," Joe remarked.

"Me? You're the former thief. I'm just an inventor."

"And which is more dangerous?"

Mara tried to restrain her smile.

Julian looked her way and laughed.

They all broke into laughter.

The End