Seasoned: Part 9

by Yezra

AN: Sorry for the wait, folks. Life and all that.

Disclaimer: Marvel owns them, 'cept where they are mine. I'm just using them for fun. And, in some peep's opinion, quite irresponsibly. :::snicker:::::

Many thanks: To all the reviewers, and ice, Ascian, Sarah, Jozzy, Lurker, Indariya, Spark, Jessica, and Jeanne M. for all the eMails and support. You guys are great, and I would not be continuing this without you.

+++++

Ice: "Oh, you!"

Ascian: "Oh you what?! I simply have no time for you people."

Yez: "Shut up the both of you, I'm trying to write."

9

The Trials of Long Distance Relationships

Nick Fury dragged Jane Winchester to a seedy little spot called Martin's Lounge for their third date. The liquor was cheap, the food was great, the décor was thirty years old, the crowd was mostly war veterans.

And it was seven miles out of the range of that damn thing in his neck.

"I don't get it," Jane said in a quiet voice. Fury paused, pushing the pre-wrapped plastic utensils aside to make room for the beers the waitress brought them. He ordered them a greasy basket of fries.

"Don't get what, Sweetheart?" He frowned slightly.

Jane waited until the waitress was gone, smiling at her sweetly. Then she leaned forward, and Nick mimicked her. "That device in your neck. You know it's there. If it's such a hindrance to you, why don’t you just have Sharon and me over some night… between the two of us, I'm sure we can cut it out." She stared at his lips for a moment, then smiled and added, "I'll even do the stitches myself."

Fury grinned at her offer. "Much obliged, Janie. But it ain't that simple." He twisted the lid off of her beer and handed it to her, and then did the same to his own. "Something's going on at SHIELD, an' I been through this kind of shit before with 'em. Had ta re-build her from scratch. I dunno who's playin' what game, but I intend ta find out. So if I leave it in, and play along… I got the upper card… fer now."

She swallowed a mouthful of beer. "Sounds kind of risky, Nicholas."

"Risky… heh. Does it? I've forgotten what risky really is."

She smiled warmly. "Well, maybe sometime I can reacquaint you with the concept."

He grinned back. "That sounds more like fun than risky to me."

She exhaled, still smiling. Fury awarded himself kudos. Jane was finally feeling comfortable enough to openly flirt with him.

"Okay, so speaking of risks… you told me you know that band of mutants upstate… The X-Men?"

"Yep. Interestin' folk. Known Wolverine a looong time. He's one o' my best friends."

"Um… did you know that man? The one that was killed in Germany?"

Nick's face darkened a bit as he looked away at nothing in particular. "Only on a professional basis, but I know he was a good man. That crap Tilby reported about him shieldin' himself with those kids from the bullets was complete horseshit. He'da never done somethin' like that."

She could see the worry return to his face. "I'm sorry, Nicholas… I guess curiosity got the better of me."

He looked back at her. Nick reached over to rest his palm on her hand as it lay on the beat up Formica table. "S'okay. One o' the hazards of my job is losing people on the clock. Do me a favor, an' don’t ever volunteer for anythin' SHIELD wants ya ta do, okay, Janie?" He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.

"I won’t, I promise. Look, let's talk about something else, okay?" Jane smiled sarcastically at Nick from her side of the booth. "Um… do you have any nicknames?"

"Yeah… 'asshole' is one. Ain't sure it qualifies as a nickname but it seems to have stuck." He grinned at Jane and reached for the vinegar when their basket of fries arrived. "What about you?"

She chewed the inside of her lip. Jane's gray eyes twinkled as she smiled slyly. "Do you promise you won't laugh?"

"Nope."

She frowned, and eyed him suspiciously. "No you won't laugh… or, no you don't promise?"

"Yep."

"Asshole," she said under her breath. Nick laughed and shook some vinegar over the fries.

"That's what they call me. Now, what do they call you?"

Jane glanced at him while he was looking at the basket of fries. She cleared her throat. "Tink."

He stopped shaking the sour liquid onto the fries, and looked at her. "Pardon me?"

"Tink," she sighed, "Short for Tinkerbell."

Nick tried not to laugh, but he was an asshole, so it didn't do much good. "That's cute," he muttered, and laughed again. "How in the hell didja get a nickname like that?"

"Okay, well, there's a story behind this, so hear me out. I was at a hockey game with some friends, and the ref made an obscenely incorrect call against the Blues, so I got up and started screaming at him. Now, I've always been short and a towhead. Plus, I have a bad temper… and a pretty round ass…" she said, looking sheepish.

Nick eyed her closely, smirking. "It's round? Really? I hadn’t noticed."

She gave him a sarcastic nod. "Sure you haven't."

"Gee, no, I have not. And I just bet it's pretty."

She flushed, and cleared her throat. "Anyway, one of the people I was with said I looked just like Tinkerbell in the Disney version of Peter Pan, in that scene when she was mad and got all flustered? You know, fists all clenched and making that pissed-off face? The name took, and that was that. And I remember now…" she shook her finger lightly, "I was wearing a green jacket at that game, too. I was doomed."

"Heh… Tink. That's kinda sweet." She rolled her eyes. "D'ya mind if I call ya that?"

"Only if you don't do it all the time," she raised her eyebrows and gave him an expectant look. "And only if it's not a reference to the size of my ass." She gestured at him with a fry before she bit into it.

Nick laughed. "There ain't nuthin' wrong with yer ass. Not a damn thing." She blushed. "But I won't, I promise. Say, Janie," he smiled, "Why's a girl like you into Hockey?"

She looked at him strangely. "A girl 'like' me? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, I just mean… it's such a violent sport. Lot's o' blood and pain. Players fightin' with each other. I'd think that as a healer-"

"I'm no healer. I just know how to steal pain… and, uh… other vivid sensations. That's all I can do."

He nodded. "Okay, as a healer-in-training, then…" he grinned at her, and she smiled. "I'd think that a sport like hockey would be disturbing to you."

She smiled sarcastically. "Heterosexual Male gynecologists aren't considered to be disturbed when they have sex with women… right?"

She smiled further, noticing the slight blush that started at the warhorse's neck and crept up his weathered features. Nick cleared his throat.

"Um… ya do like em' this way… right?" He gestured towards the fries, now completely sprinkled with vinegar. Jane nodded, grinning like she'd just won a game of Risk.

"Uh huh."

***

Sumeeta was fairing slightly better than Jubilee. For starters, she wasn't pregnant, and the FOH weren't breaking her fingers. What they were saving her for, however, made her very frightened. She'd heard all the stories – about the executions, and the autopsies - sometimes on live subjects. Even that wacko group that was grafting mutant parts onto humans a few years back… People were insane. And now she was stuck in one of their jails, waiting to be cut up.

She knew that Jubilee was a bit of a celebrity with the Pro Human Party – they wanted her for this public trial. If Jubes was to have any chance of not being shipped back to the states for a death penalty, her salvation would have to come in the form of Sumeeta, because now, even that 'X-Men' group she had belonged to didn’t know her exact whereabouts. And if Susie was going to rescue the young woman, she had better do it fast.

Her only hope was that Jubilee was not too far away.

One of the guards – the one that always leered at her chest – came into her cell with two more behind him bearing guns. He set a dish of what was passing for food down on her cot, and proceeded to pull out a set of keys.

"This goes against my better judgment," he said in English, thick with a French accent, "But I do what I am told to help the cause."

"Cause?" Sumeeta sneered at him. "Is that what they are calling kidnapping and murder these days?"

The guard looked down at her where she sat on the cot. He growled, and grabbed her roughly by the arm, forcing her to stand. He put a key into her collar and began unlocking it. "Our research indicates that your powers are untrained and weak at best. There is nothing you can do enough to escape even this cell. We need this collar for another mutie that we collected this morning, so be a good girl and we'll leave it off. It's not like you're a criminal or anything." He input a few numbers on the collar's tiny keypad, and the collar popped off suddenly. The guard shoved her back down onto the cot. Susie's eyes burned as she looked up at him, rubbing the skin on her neck.

"Just a word of warning. Get caught escaping and you'll be shot on sight. God knows why, but the lab back in New York wants your DNA for research, and they'll get it eventually. But they'd rather have you alive. So for now, well… enjoy your lunch."

They clamped the door shut, sealing the heavy lock, and left her alone. She was no expert in shapeshifting; nowhere near the caliber of Mystique. But desperate circumstances and all that… Susie sighed, and stood in the middle of the cell. She relaxed and listened as the voices outside faded away, leaving her alone in the cellblock. She had no clue if or when they would put the collar back on, so she had to go for it.

Her breathing slowed, and her heart rate with it. She closed her eyes and began chanting an old prayer in Sanskrit, half the words incorrect. What few words she did say right, she had no idea as to what they meant. She was never one for the classics. All she knew was that this was the first prayer she learned to help with meditation, and she used it to calm down and achieve a reflective state – even if she had nothing worth reflecting on. Her head lolled forward, and the breaths she took became deep. They filled her lungs to capacity. With each breath she took, more and more of her soul felt like it was in charge, rather than her brain, or ever her consciousness.

Her soul; just the tool she needed to mimic a thing.

In this situation, however, the problem was not becoming a different animal, she could do that. But Sumeeta was a tall, built woman. She weighed 132 pounds. And whatever she manifested into, well, it had to weigh… 132 pounds. So with her it was always a big bird, or a big snake. Her problem had always been one of compressing her own atomic structure to achieve a smaller creature when morphing. She had no skill for that - yet.

Now was not the time to learn a new thing. She had one option. After many years of attempts, She'd recently manifested into several birds, and the resulting flock weighed 132 pounds. That gave her a chance…

Now, to pick a thing.

The window was sealed. She had to go out through the building. So, it could not be a noticeable kind of animal, like a flock of birds, or a gaggle of snakes or mice. Not one that would get trampled under foot by a panicked guard. Lose too many mice, and she'd lose too much weight. She needed to move fast and quiet. Eyes still closed, she thought of the holes at the bottom of the heavy door to her cell. It had been crudely assembled, as so many things in this city had. There was a strip of an opening along the bottom, barely one-eighth of an inch at its thinnest, and one-quarter at its widest. Then over more to the side, her mind's eye saw the light peeking out through the corner of the door, just below the rusting hinges. She watched, seeing the spiders and flies moving along the hole…slowly, but with no interference.

Bugs! Bugs can climb up the walls, that's good. Gross, but good.

Just a larger bug, so she could reassemble quicker. Becoming millions of flies did not appeal to her in the least. She opened her eyes, now fully yellow and glowing in their natural state. Susie walked over to the wall, looking about for any other solutions. She eyed the cracking cement, listening to the dripping of the old, leaky plumbing system in the walls. All her senses were heightened, but more from her meditative state than her mutation itching to be used.

Then she saw it. An exotic cockroach sitting on the wall in the corner, near the greasy window. Not too large for the hole in the door. It seemed to be staring at her. She swallowed back a feeling of momentary disgust, and got closer to it. It stared, probably playing dead as they so often like to do around humans. She reached forward and cupped her hand below it against the wall, and tapped it's body with the other fingers. It fell from its perch and landed in her palm. She felt it as much as she needed to, just enough to examine and detail its structure in her head, and then she tossed it to the other side of the room.

Sumeeta groaned. Becoming another was never a comfortable thing for her. Becoming many others was even more unnerving. For this trick, she had to accept wiping out her egotistical fear of losing her personal identity, and rely on her Eastern upbringing. The 'many', in the end, being no more than the 'whole'.

Slowly, her body collapsed in on itself, becoming pliable and pooling onto the floor in a clear mass of jelly. Then it took on form, as one by one so many roaches crawled out of the goo, solidifying and scurrying towards the hole. They left in single file, crawling up the walls of the cellblock, and entering an unused air duct near the ceiling. She thought, what little of 'her' could think in the confusion of a bug society, to break a few members away from her exodus and have them go crawl into the clothing of the guard that leered at her. So what if she lost a few ounces?

Then she remembered how badly he smelled, and decided against it.

By now the mass of roaches had fled to the roof, and moved unseen in the cover of evening, over the roof and down the side of the back end of the structure. Only a few were lost as stray thoughts lead them away from the group and into the clutches of starving rats. Her soul winced at the pain, but it amounted to no more than a hangnail. The roaches that were Susie pooled themselves at the base of a stack of boxes, and began to reintegrate. Again, she was a clear mass of jelly, intelligently keeping the grime and garbage of the alley at bay. Her form looped back up into the arms and legs of a teenage Mongolian male, one who was apparently stunned at something.

Now fully formed, Sumeeta leaned against the dirty brick wall and her flat, male chest heaved with fear. For a moment, she just stood there, staring at a fixed point on the other side of the alley. Then her lip curled back and she shook, violently.

"Yuck! Disgusting! Never bugs, never, ever again!"

***

Two agents dragged 92's lifeless body from the floor of Stoney-Eyed Man's office. The dead agent was held responsible for Sumeeta's escape. Agent 148 took his place, and she nervously accepted her new duties: getting Karamshi back, and delivering her to New York, as promised.

Now alone in his dimly lit office, the heavy man sighed. He watched listlessly as a news report revealed that most of the western United States, with the exception of California, were gearing up to legally submit to the FOH's policies. The conference that Cable and the others had attended was successful, as no mutant on the West Coast was ready to relax. Anything could happen. Nothing could ever be done without the proper elections, of course, but the Pro Human Party was already busying itself setting up shop in the government facilities that were wavering.

This was an integral and boring part of the plan that Stoney Eyes was a part of, but he just wanted to get to the main course. And that was going to take months…

He stood up, swallowing the rest of his spring water, and put his agenda planner in the inside pocket of the jacket of his five thousand dollar suit. He buttoned the jacket, popped a breath mint, and locked his office behind him as he left.

He whistled as he made his way to the stairwell, and slipped his ID card through the lock. A pleasant female voice greeted him.

"Identifying… Congressman D. Wentworth. Enter personal code, please."

He almost smirked, if he had been capable of such an expression. Congressman, he thought. Well, whatever it takes. He input a long string of numbers into the keypad, and glanced at the people milling about on the floor. The computer processed the code and spoke up.

"Code accepted. Enter SHIELD stairwell."

He sniffed as he opened the door, noting the antiseptic odor and the deafening quiet, as the door closed behind him with the hiss of an airlock. He cleared the three flights of stairs easily, and stepped out into a parking deck, two levels below ground. He shut the second door behind him and listened as it locked in the same manner.

He never even batted an eye as a long stretch limo pulled to a stop in front of him in the parking deck. He climbed into the door as it opened for him, seemingly on its own. The limo pulled out of the lower level parking deck, away from the downtown Washington DC SHIELD facility slowly, and into the bright afternoon sun.

Eventually, the limo came to a stop at the front gate of a government building. Wentworth exited the limo, and stepped through the open gates. He turned as a few reporters outside the gate began throwing questions at him.

Oh, joy… the media.

He sighed, yet again, having to deal with yet another necessary, but irritating part, of his gameplan. He gave vague, professional answers, using a monotone voice and very long sentences.

He was becoming a regular pro.

***

"Who the hell is this guy to Washington? He came outta nowhere… An' he sounds English."

"I don’t know, Nicky. I called Henry Rushakoff in our DC office, and he has no background info on him, either. And that's a little too little, if you ask me." Sitting in her New York City SHIELD Headquarters office, they narrowed their eyes at Sharon's TV screen as various members of the press attempted to get more of their questions on the federal mutant policy answered, but to no avail. The heavy, stoney-eyed man in the expensive suit nodded and turned, heading into the gates. "What I do know is that he has been granted one of the political satellite offices on the upper floor of the DC SHIELD facility. He's Congressmen Donald Wentworth. That's it."

Nick pointed the remote at the screen and it flickered off. He tossed the remote onto the couch and sat down, running a hand through his hair. "This anti-mutant shit has gotta be locked down, Carter. What the hell is happening to the free states?!"

"The FOH have always maintained a low profile, Nick. And after that disaster with the Church of Humanity…" Nick looked up at her and curled his lip back. The word "graft" still conjured up disgusting mental images. Sharon continued. "Well, they were in no position to back any political party. Then along came the PHP."

"The Pro Humaners are just a bunch of zealots. They got big mouths, a couple cash cows, and that's all. When the time comes, they'll fall, just as every group of fanatics like them has in the past."

Sharon sat at her desk, and poured herself a glass of ice tea. "Are you sure about that Nick? 'Cuz intelligence suggests otherwise."

"Lissen, I don’t care how many they are. They’re still a small group."

Sharon sighed. "Well, regardless of how small they are, or how easily you think they are going to fall… I still received orders today that me and 'Tasha are to attend the Moscow public conference on mutant relations in Kazakhstan – the big one, in 2 months."

Nick sneered. He hated politics. It always got in the way of real work. "As what? Good Will SHIELD Ambassadors?! Jesus H. Christ…"

"Regardless… Russia asks, and Russia receives. Just like the eastern states here, they do not want the anti-mutant platform to take over in their borders either. But things are happening, Nick. Like they are here. It's getting too close to home for them. Germany has fallen in with PHP policies. So has Italy and Romania. They are taking Kazakhstan, and obviously, will go after Mongolia next."

Fury's head popped up. "Mongolia? Really?"

"Yeah. We already know they are there. They just aren't being very vocal yet. They're organized. And they're playing this out like a nasty monopoly game - buy up all the cheap properties first, then before you know it, you've made it impossible for your opponent not to land on one. And who the fuck cares if they have double hotels on Boardwalk, right? Because you aren't going near them. Yet." Fury frowned. Sharon eyed him suspiciously. "What about Mongolia, Nick?"

"A friend of mine… his fiancé is there. Working, sort of."

"Could you be more specific? Or is this conversation over?"

Nick blinked and looked at her. "It's Logan's woman. She's running an… uh, outfit there."

"An 'outfit'?" Sharon raised her eyebrows.

Nick tapped his lips with his index finger, a gesture the two of them had shared for a number of years indicating the walls probably had ears. She nodded.

"We've seen it before… In the States."

Sharon blinked, then her eyes bugged out. She mouthed the word 'Jubilee?!' and Nick nodded.

"But…" she whispered, "She's just a baby!"

Nick grinned. "Apparently, not anymore."

***

For nearly two weeks, Susie played her mimicking games with the lowlifes of the small Mongolian city they were stuck in, sniffing around and finding out where they were holding Jubes. It wasn't too hard. Starving street kids would be lookouts and sing their songs just for food, and mimicking a vendor to steal it for them was easy. The city they were in was underdeveloped and overcrowded. While that was bad for the technical needs of the FOH, it was excellent for keeping their mutant prize hidden before they left for the States.

Where they were in Mongolia, there were only a few buildings that could provide the kinds of things the FOH needed as a bare minimum to secure Jubilee. But Sumeeta also got word that they were going to move her soon. Things were progressing in the Western United States enough that the trial was fast becoming a reality. Susie knew she was going to have to do something drastic to get her out, but with David's murder playing behind her eyes every night as she slept, she was ready for drastic, and a whole lot more.

For two weeks she watched them outside the building, strolling around like a Mongolian teen or a simple vendor. Mean-looking FOH guards with big guns and bad grammar skills were at every entrance, but the building itself was worn and old.

Susie kept a close watch on the FOH guards that had imprisoned Jubes. Eventually she worked her way to touching a guard, and she went about knocking him cold and mimicking him the very next day. She had her young street charges stuff the guard's unconscious body in a rickshaw, and they ran for hours to deposit him on the steps of a brothel. He was an American. The madam and her ladies would do whatever they could to keep him there, as per the children's instructions. Susie laughed at the possibilities.

She feigned laryngitis and followed in her co-worker's steps. All she wanted was a close look at Jubes, and the chance to make eye contact. Just a flash of her true yellow eye color and a small smirk would be enough to give the young Asian woman hope. It would be enough to tell her that someone was working on getting her free.

Her guard 'partner' shoved Jubes out of her cell, right into Susie's arms. The feisty mutant cursed them both, and Susuie turned her back on the other guard as she helped Jubes to stand up. In the process, she gave her the yellow eyes, and it took everything Jubilee had to restrain her elated smile.

Sumeeta noticed how they removed her collar in the cell, and put it back on whenever they took her out. Jubes looked tired and defeated, and the swollen belly was entirely suspect.

Susie was happy enough that Jubilee caught sight of her, but she could do no more that day. She waited until it seemed reasonable that the guard she impersonated was supposed to leave, and then she left the facility and slipped back into the shadows.

This went on for some time, until Susie had gleaned all she could regarding the set-up, where they held Jubilee in the building, and all their other habits. The finger-breaking had graduated to wrists, legs… they even stabbed her once. It was breaking Susie's heart, but they both knew they couldn't do anything yet, and Jubilee's apparent healing factor was doing its job.

The last day she was undercover, Susie managed to let Jubes know she wasn't going to mimic the guard anymore, and she was going to get her out. Then Susie got word to the hookers to have her kids desposit the guard back in his bed. He returned to work the next day, ranting about being in a whorehouse for what seemed like an endless visit. The opium and pot in his system only helped confirm that he had tied one on, just the night before. He was reprimanded, demoted and sent back to the states.

If Susie wasn't so scared and angry by the situation, she'd be having a good time. The espionage business turned her on more than she figured it would.

***

Betsy had contained herself at the conference, never talking, and letting Cable and Domino do so when necessary. It was not a successful meeting to them, as mutant/human relations were just as poor before it began, and the threat of the FOH still loomed over California in the neighboring states that had already conformed.

They went back to their hotel room without speaking, the day's events weighing heavily on their minds. Some time afterwards, Cable and Domino were about to head back home south, and Rogue and Betsy were preparing to leave for New York, when all hell broke loose. The conference had attracted thousands of people, all protesting things in their own way. When the fighting began, it spread like wildfire across the already nervous state.

The most liberal state in the union was succumbing to the will of the Pro Human Party. Going through the same things as the other states that surrounded her, California was in turmoil, experiencing riots and protests over Human Rights. It wasn't long before the damage was adding up and people were being killed in cold blood.

Then the thing that certain parties had been counting on happened: A state of emergency was declared. The FOH happily stepped in with their bright and shining faces. They would clear it up in the name of peace.

In any manner they saw fit, and all too conveniently…

The four mutants attempted to help where they could, but not using their powers was becoming a hindrance. The explosion shook them as their hotel was bombed, simply because it had mutants staying at it. When Rogue saw people trapped under debris from the explosion, she lost it. Before she knew it, she was heaving aside the wreckage and flying people to safety. Betsy, Cable and Domino were grabbing them as she landed, and helping where they could.

Some of the protestors were less that enthusiastic that mutants were actually rescuing people.

That was when Domino's luck ran out, as she intercepted a blow about to be delivered to Betsy's back. She deflected it easily, and actually ducked on reflex to avoid another, but there were just too many people rushing them. Domino was hit hard, and beaten further with no time to recover. She was separated from the other three. Nathan yelled for her, but the crowd rushing them was too large to handle without hurting them in the process. He watched, helpless, as Domino was carried off in the riot.

Rogue had no choice but to get Betsy and Cable clear, and fast. She got them to higher ground, then flew overhead alone, searching for Domino. Frantic, Nathan pressed his psi-link with her over and over, but she was either beaten too badly to hear him, or they already had her in an inhibitor or something else, and she couldn’t receive his signal. Hours went by with no clues, and they knew they had to move.

They needed to get out of California and back to New York, but Cable insisted that they at least go back to his home first. Rogue hoisted them into the air and flew south, in the hopes that if Domino had broken free, she'd head for home. They waited there for several days, keeping a low profile and asking around when they could. But there was no sign of her when they got there, and she never showed up.

California was now under PHP control, like the other western states, and it was time to get out. He was reluctant to abandon his search for Domino, but this situation was bigger than the two of them. He would need the X-Men's help if he was to get Beatrice back. Cable contacted Jean and the Professor telepathically. With Rogue carrying them, the X-Men collected their comrades in mid-air over Mexican airspace and took them home.

Betsy sat in back of the jet, where the sullen Nathan joined her. Both their loves were gone, and neither were the type to get chatty about it. Cyke eyed the two of them for a moment, and their withdrawn presence only added to his own anger and frustration.

Warren was dead, and Scott missed him more than he had words for. He was positive that Archangel was going to propose to Betsy, and very soon. So no matter what he was feeling, Psylocke was feeling many times worse, of that he had no doubt. His son's lover was missing, and maybe dead as well. Nathan and Dom had already been through so much, and for them to end up like this after finally smoothing out the wrinkles and being happy together… It was too much for Scott to take in. No amount of time in the world was going to give him the parenting skills to console Nathan over his loss.

Safe at the mansion, such issues were easy to avoid or put off until dealing with until it was necessary. But that was getting harder and harder for the team leader of the X-Men to do.

Scott wasn't sure if he was losing faith in Xavier's dream, or he just didn’t want to put his energy into it anymore. He wanted peace, but he wanted those he held dear to stop dying and living in fear. 'The dream' didn’t leave much breathing room for that anymore.

And he knew himself well enough to know what was more important.

------------