Undertones

Fermat frowned. "Wh-What do you mean, T-Tin-Tin? Why d-do you think you'll b-b-b... end up like your u-uncle?"

She swallowed heavily, and wouldn't look at him, keeping her eyes closed. "I... Do you know why I'm being sent home?"

"N-Not really," Fermat admitted. "Mr. T-Tracy wouldn't tell us why. Just that you w-were going h-home."

Tin-Tin took a deep breath. "What happened was this: that girl I was talking about, well, I had enough of her. So, I started doing little things. Tripping her, upsetting her tray by pushing it with my... my powers, moving her things around so she couldn't find them right away. It felt... good. Sneaky good. There was a little thrill to doing things that she couldn't pin on me, things that frustrated her. I was getting back at her, and she didn't even know it."

"So, wh-what happened? H-How'd she f-find out?" At Tin-Tin's surprised look, he clarified his statement. "I'm m-making an assumption h-here. If she didn't know, you w-wouldn't have been 'sent' h-home, now, would you?"

Tin-Tin sighed and her shoulders slumped. "You're right. I don't know if she figured it out or if she was just suspicious. But she tripped, with a plate full of food, and fell hard. She came up to me and called me some names, then slapped me." She shook her head. "I couldn't let that pass; I had to do something! So, I smacked her back." Huffing a little rueful laugh, she added, "Y'know what the ironic thing is?"

"No. What?"

"I didn't even touch her. Didn't use my powers. She tripped over her own two big feet."

Fermat closed his eyes and groaned a little in commiseration. He slipped his casted hand beneath hers, and rubbed her back lightly with his free one. "I'm s-sorry this happened. B-But how does this m-make you like your u-u-u... like him?"

She sighed again. "Don't you see? This is how he probably started out... doing little things to the people around him. Liking it when they couldn't figure out what was happening, feeling that little shiver of... of... satisfaction when he used his powers. Getting back at the people he thought wronged him." She leaned toward him, putting her head awkwardly on his much lower shoulder. "I don't want to be like him."

"A-And you won't b-be," Fermat said stoutly.

Tin-Tin lifted her head and looked him in the eye. "How can you say that?"

"B-Because it's true," he said firmly. "From wh-what I've seen of your u-uncle, he'd never have b-beaten himself up about using his p-p-powers. He'd just enjoy it and n-not question it or feel b-bad." He gave her a smile. "It's b-because you d-do feel b-bad about it that tells me you w-won't end up like him."

She lay her head back on his shoulder. "I wish I could believe that."

"B-Believe it. You'd n-never become what he is."

They sat quietly like that for a while, Fermat's good arm around her shoulders and her head resting on his. The maitre d' smiled warmly as she glanced up from the desk behind them. Finally, Tin-Tin broke the silence again. "I'm glad to be going home. I miss my parents, and..." Her voice trailed off.

"And?"

"I'll be far away from him," was her surprising reply. "I could hear him sometimes, in my mind, like he was whispering. Not to me, but just... thinking. Planning. I was afraid he'd know I was in England and he would start using his powers against me."

Fermat frowned, but whatever he was going to say was interrupted by the arrival of Alan and A.J. The latter boy's eyes widened when he saw his roommate nearly embracing a pretty girl, and Alan felt a twinge of something he couldn't quite place. I'm not jealous, he assured himself, but still, there was a little corner of his mind that disagreed. For their part, Fermat and Tin-Tin suddenly sat up straight when their quiet chat was interrupted.

"Hey, guys," Alan said. "What's up?"

"N-Nothing, much. We're j-just talking," Fermat said.

"Yeah, well, it looks like Dad's doing a lot of talking, too. Might be trying to convince Mr. Trumbull to let A.J. stay."

A.J. shook his head and shrugged. "I doubt it. Your dad has a lot more important things to worry about than some kid he doesn't even know."

"Well, we'll see what happens when we get back there." Alan rubbed his hands together. "Personally, I'm ready for dessert!"

"Well, boys, I think it's time to head out," Jeff said when dessert had been served and consumed. "Fermat, you're coming with us to the hotel for the evening. You can go back with Alan in the morning."

"Andrew?" Arthur turned to his son. "How about you come home with me for the weekend? We can spend some time together..." His voice was hopeful, but his face was serious, with just a hint of trepidation, as if he wasn't sure how his son would react.

A.J. looked at his father with a combination of disbelief and suspicion. "Home?" He frowned. "To Geneva?"

Art sighed, and sat back, deflated. "No, son. Home to Connecticut."

A.J. turned this over in his mind for a minute or two. "I suppose," he said slowly. "When will I have the chance to pack up my things? For our trip to Geneva next week?"

"We're... not going to Geneva," Art replied. "I'm still not sure if I want to leave you at Wharton, but until I find something closer to home... you'll stay put."

"That's... that's great, Dad." A.J. didn't sound enthusiastic, and looked more stunned than happy. Art frowned a little, a hurt expression.

There was an awkward period of silence, broken by Alan. "Hey, sport," he said, grinning. "Go home and have a good time. Looks like we'll all be back to the grind come Monday." He reached out to give A.J. a friendly clout on the shoulder.

A.J. chuckled, then glanced over at his father. The two gazed at each other for a long moment, then A.J. gave a small smile and said, "I think I will."

"Well, let's get these boys – and ladies – back to the hotel," Jeff said. "Art, you need a lift?"

Art was already on the phone. "Thanks, but no, Jeff. My chauffeur will pick us up. I wasn't planning on staying the night, so we can head straight home from here. Andrew's already checked out for the week, but I hadn't yet terminated his enrollment. Looks like I won't have to for a while longer."

"I don't have any clothes with me..." A.J. protested.

"Don't you have clothes at home?"

A.J. thought for a minute, then shook his head in exasperation. "Yes, of course I do. Duh."

The group at the table laughed, and Jeff rose, offering his hand to Penelope. "Well, then, we'll be off. Art, Andrew, it was nice to see you again. I'm sure we'll be in touch again, soon."

Brains also rose, and stopped by to murmur in Art's ear as he passed by the lawyer. "I p-pointed Dr. S-Sugimoto in your direction, but if y-you need to talk to s-someone at H-H-H... the island, ask for m-me. J-Jeff doesn't w-want to b-be involved in this situation." He glanced over at Alan. Art followed his gaze, and nodded.

"No problem, Hiram. I can keep Jeff out of the loop."

Brains patted Art on the shoulder, then drew Fermat from his goodbyes to A.J. and the Tracy party left the restaurant.

"Alan!" Dom grinned as he saw his roommate walk in. "Good to see you, man! Here, let me help with the bags." He strode over to the door and took the overnight case from Fermat. "Hi, Fermat! You rocked last night!"

"Th-Thanks, Dom," Fermat said, blushing. "Wish I hadn't b-blundered with that lit qu-question."

"Don't sweat it; everyone misses once in a while," Dom said with a shrug. He turned toward his roommate. "Hey, Alan, is your dad still around?"

Alan turned from where he was unpacking his laptop, a slightly confused look on his face. "No, he's gone. Dropped us off at the dorms and headed straight for the airport."

The farewells had been quick and surprisingly awkward. The boys had said their goodbyes to Lady Penelope and Parker at the hotel. She'd kissed them both in a motherly fashion and admonished them, "Now, be careful, boys. I don't want to hear about any more incidents until Christmas."

"O-Okay, Lady P-Penelope," Fermat said, a mischievous tone in his voice. "You won't h-hear about them. D-Doesn't mean there won't b-be any."

Penelope raised an aristocratic eyebrow. "You, sir, are getting far too bold." She chuckled, and passed a hand through his hair, then sobered. "Please be careful, both of you. Your fathers do not need the stress."

"They'll be careful," Jeff said firmly. "Or they'll be hearing from me."

"A-And me," Brains added.

"We'll be careful, Lady P.," Alan assured her solemnly. "Promise."

"A promise from you, Alan, allows me to leave with a light heart," Penelope said, her dazzling smile back in place. Alan quietly caught his breath; for once, she was smiling for him and no one else.

But the moment passed as Jeff stepped forward to escort Penny to her car and hand her in. Alan found something else to look at as his father kissed her in farewell and she returned the favor. He heard the door close, then Parker gave a final gruff goodbye before ducking inside FAB-1, and the long car pulled away smoothly. Alan knew that Parker would find some quiet road to use as a runway; small, regional airports usually didn't know what to do with a pink car that could fly. Neither did busy city airports, for that matter.

"Now, boys," Jeff said, rubbing his hands as he came back to the three who were waiting. "Let's get you back to Wharton."

The drive back had been quiet. The hotel had cleaned all of Alan's clothes, barring what he'd worn to bed and what he had chosen for the morning. They'd driven onto the campus and made their way to Maplewood first of all, so that Fermat could bring what little he had with him to the dorm. Jeff and Alan waited down in the lobby, not wanting to interrupt the moment between Brains and Fermat. They didn't wait long; Alan had the suspicion that Fermat had just thrown his overnight bag into the room and hurried back down.

They drove down to Oakwood, mostly to spare Alan the gawking stares of the students who were out and about that morning. There were a few cars on the drive with trunks open; busy parents who had finally arrived to remove their sons from Wharton. We're doing things backwards, Alan thought. I'm coming back... and I should have been the one most likely to go. I would have been if not for my dad.

"Let me help carry that in," Jeff said as Alan shouldered the laptop case.

"Nah, I got it, Dad," Alan replied. Before Jeff could reach for the overnight case, Fermat had grabbed it and swung it over his good shoulder.

"Well, then, let me walk you inside," Jeff said.

Alan smiled, and shook his head. "I'm okay, Dad. Really. It's easier to say goodbye here."

Jeff had a puzzled look on his face, as if he didn't understand what Alan meant. He sighed, and said, "If that's the way you want it..." When Alan nodded, Jeff held open his arms.

Alan hesitated for a moment, then stepped into his father's embrace. He patted Jeff on the back with his free hand, not wanting to look too dependent, not wanting to hold on too hard ... fearing that if he did, he wouldn't want to let go. For his part, Jeff held on gingerly, gently, mindful of his son's injuries and not knowing if this hesitation on Alan's part was born of embarrassment, a desire to squelch the rumors that were likely still hiding in odd corners, an increased sense of self-reliance, or any combination of those factors.

"I love you, son," he murmured in Alan's ear.

"Love you, too, Dad," Alan replied softly.

Brains found himself looking at his son through a slightly different filter. Fermat seemed stronger now, more confident, and far older than his father ever thought possible. Only a couple of weeks, and it feels like a lifetime has passed.

Fermat pushed his glasses back on his nose, and moved in with his good arm for a sideways hug, neither remembering nor caring about the overnight case that bumped between him and his father. Brains gathered him in with one arm, squeezing tightly, but stopped himself before dropping a kiss on his son's head. It's not appropriate, not here, not now. Maybe not ever again, he silently lamented.

"Love you, D-Dad," Fermat said, smiling. It had been good to see his dad, good to have him watch the competition, even though the thought of his mistake still made his cheeks flame. But he was ready to go back to the routine, back to classes, and back to his friends.

"L-Love you, t-t-t-t-too, son," Brains replied. "I'll m-miss you."

"Can you c-come out for another c-competition?"

Brains couldn't help himself, he just had to ruffle Fermat's hair. "I'll t-try. M-Maybe when A-Alan's able to c-c-c... participate in t-track."

"You've got a d-deal!"

Jeff stepped over to ruffle Fermat's hair even more. "You keep an eye on him for me, Fermat. Make sure he doesn't get into any more trouble," he said, grinning.

"S-Sure thing, Mr. Tracy." Fermat stepped up to the curb to join Alan.

"A-Alan!"

Alan turned back, one foot on the dorm steps. Brains was rubbing the back of his neck and motioned with his head toward Fermat. "W-W-Watch him."

"Count on it, Brains." Alan smiled, then turned toward the dorm again, giving Fermat a little tap on the arm.

The fathers called out, "Bye, boys!" "T-Talk to you soon!" and the boys looked over their shoulders to wave."S-See you later!" "Bye, Dad!" Then the dormitory swallowed them up, leaving Brains and Jeff on the drive, feeling suddenly proud... and bereft.

"Why'd you want to see my dad?" Alan asked Dom as he finished plugging in his laptop.

"Pictures, man, pictures! Of last night's victory! I didn't even think to bring a camera, and no one from the newspaper was there, though Kay told me he'd written something to give the editor." Dom seemed to quiver with nervous energy.

"You want pictures for the school paper?" Alan sounded puzzled, and looked it, too.

"No, no, no." Dom shook his curls vigorously and hooked a thumb at his own shoulder. "Yearbook editor, remember? Last year we had nothing on the quiz team but a group photo." He spread his hand and passed it through the air in an arc, palm facing out, watching the movement for a moment before turning his gaze back to Alan. "I can see more coverage, more pictures. And it'd be a big help if I could get some stills from the vid your dad took."

"Oh!" Alan's face lit up with comprehension. "I get it now. Sure! I'll email him and ask. He can upload the vid to me; then I can copy it for you so you can screencap. Does that work?"

"Yeah!" Dom said eagerly. "Make sure your dad knows I'll give him credit for the pics, too."

Alan and Fermat both laughed. "My dad's second... no, third... aw, hell, I've lost count of how many careers he's had!"

"His latest c-career," Fermat suggested.

"Yeah, that works. Thanks, Brain," Alan said. He made a sweeping motion much like Dom's. "Jeff Tracy's latest career: yearbook photographer. News at eleven."

The three boys burst into laughter. When they'd calmed down, Alan glanced at his computer clock. "Time for lunch."

"Then the t-track meet," Fermat reminded him.

"Yeah! And for this one, I'll make sure I have my camera!" Dom vowed.

Alan rose. "Then let's get going. It looks like a fine day ahead of us."