Chaska sat forward, with an amused look. "He certainly isn't worried about impressing anyone, is he?"

"Maybe that's what makes him so impressive," Dan said, relaxing in his chair.

"Hm, well. Confidence like that isn't easy to achieve. That list of credentials probably goes a long way towards keeping it intact."

"I don't know," Dan sighed. "He doesn't feel like the type who rides his accolades to glory. I think we hit the mark with him, Chas. I believe he can do it. Do you know what he was doing down there?"

"In the basement?"

"He was rebuilding those old systems. He got something working down there."

Chaska sat back in clear bemusement. "Damn. He is good. Dr. Fredricks couldn't bear to even look at those. "

"Well, all his attempts to extract the data through our systems failed."

"Hm, a dismal failure, aside from the fact he was an insufferable ass," Chaska added. "A drink?'

"Of course," Dan laughed.

She pushed away from the desk and strolled into a comfortable sitting area. It lay hidden by an opaque partition that vanished as she approached it. Dan followed her, comfortable now that Mitch passed her inspection.

"Computer. Seneschal Tyb."

"Yes, Chancellor."

Chaska sighed as low strains of electronica filled the room. She stepped behind a bar –arte'd'mode, of course- and began mixing drinks for them.

"He's coming in September, did you know?"

"I heard," Dan replied. "Do you want me to reserve tickets?"

"Heavens no, Dan," she flicked a hand at him. "I'll have the computer do it." She laughed lightly. "Honestly, sometimes you do surprise me."

Dan smiled as she carried his drink to him. She kicked off her high heels and settled into a pure white lounger. Dan took up residence on the matching sofa, keeping his shoes on.

"I sometimes forget all the things she can do," he admitted.

Chaska nodded, sipping her drink. "I understand. I just can't imagine how tedious life must have been for you, though. Having to make calls and appointments all manually." She shuddered delicately. "I'm glad things have turned around for you, truly."

Dan sipped his drink. It was no secret his appointment as her running mate was the greatest breakthrough of his life. He struggled in low-level politics for years, never rising above the Mayor of Dallas. His honesty and refusal to sling mud kept him down.

He was one of the last truly noble people left, Chaska was sure. When she visited several years ago on campaign, she found the rumors flying about his management were dead on. He gave up his salary in the name of the poor, choosing instead to live in a small one-room apartment, equipped with the bare necessities. He pulled Dallas from the brink of crumbling and made it a cleaner, happier city.

He almost turned her down when she offered him the job as her right hand. She couldn't believe a man so pure in deed and thought was real, but he proved her wrong. And when she felt the waves of strength coming off him, she Delved him at once and found the man was good to the core.

Modern-day politics needed a man like Dan. His word was his bond, and he never made a promise he couldn't keep. Chaska often mused it was a damn shame he was gay. He would make some woman hysterically happy, otherwise.

The fact that he was a Beta-caliber Esper swayed her decision, even when all her campaign managers sharply disagreed. And with Dan at her side, she won that election and every single one since. Together, they were doing all they could to spread Dan's miracle with Dallas across the world.

Dan's talent for miracles appeared to be bearing fruit in the form of Mitchell Canver. He was a lovely man, with bright red hair to his shoulders, bright and sharp hazel eyes, and a body that piqued her interest. He was slender but his arms and chest under the casual button-down shirt were sleek and muscled.

"How long do you think he'll be down there?" she wondered.

"All day. Half the night if he's as friendly with security as he is with everyone else."

Chaska nodded. "Another workaholic. Just what we need."

Dan grinned. He leaned forward and a clear table rose from the floor. He placed his drink on it and leaned back on the sofa. "He is exactly what we need, Chas. I can feel it. And," he sat forward earnestly, "he's an Esper."

Chaska sat up straight, her feet falling to the floor. "I didn't feel a thing."

"Neither did I until he Read me."

Chaska worried her lip. It was possible, of course, that he had shields. She hadn't Delved him, but at Alpha caliber, it wasn't necessary to do that when an Esper of any strength above Gamma got within arm's length. The stronger ones, above Gamma, she could pick out across time zones and be within feet of their location. These were few, and most were extreme hermits, isolating themselves away from society.

Hearing foreign thoughts constantly could drive people mad, and Chaska and Dan were among a handful of high-caliber Espers who escaped that curse. She was doubly stunned to find Mitch so outgoing. He had to be at least Beta to Read Dan.

-Are you sure? -

-Absolutely. I didn't feel a thing until he Read me. He was just...there...He said it was "so clear"-

Chaska smiled as the words Mitch picked up floated just under Dan's train of thought.

Chaska nodded. "Maybe I'll go fishing next time I see him," she murmured aloud.

Dan retrieved his drink. He considered telling Chaska what Mitch's reply was but decided to tuck that into the darkest corner of his mind. She could Delve him nearly effortlessly, but he had just a small portion she never came close to. He kept so many shields over it he sometimes gave himself a headache.

She knew about his proclivities but preferred not to discuss them. It was one of the few things he would change in their friendship. But he accepted it. That's what friendship was after all – acceptance.

He wondered how accepting Mitch could be in that tiny corner of his mind, while he chatted idly with Chaska over drinks.

***

Dan received yet another shock when he walked into the basement on Monday morning.

The cluttered mess was gone. No hint that it ever existed was visible.

Mitch sat behind a multi-sectioned frosted glass desk, flat-screened monitors beeping all around him. In a neat row under the desk, sat at least thirty computers, their cords tamed and lying complacently out of the way. The snake's lair of power strips was out of sight as well, and Dan finally spotted them, all bolted to the floor under the desk.

Dan walked into the room, thunderstruck. Against the wall, the dusty servers from decades back hummed happily, and Mitch sat swaying behind his desk.

"Is that Michael Jackson you're listening to?" Dan asked before he could stop himself.

Mitch looked at him, a wide smile on his face. "The King of Pop, hell yeah. Too bad about that trial, though." Mitch shook his head and looked back to his monitors.

"You did all of this in three days?"

"What? Like it's hard?"

Dan laughed in amazement. "You got software arranged too?"

In neatly stacked racks along the wall around the desk, hundreds of cases lay on small shelves. Dan was willing to bet he arranged them alphabetically by title, sub-sectioned into usage categories, and said as much.

"Yeah, they are," Mitch nodded absently. "Only way to do it. Though god knows, Microsoft put out enough shit to go 'round the world for eighty days."

Dan laughed again, this time with genuine humor. Mitch looked up at him again and crooked a finger. "Come see this."

Intrigued, Dan joined him. There was an arte'd'mode chair pushed against the wall. He pulled it up next to Mitch's old-fashioned one. He was stunned to see every single monitor was running different levels of diagnostics. The one in front of Mitch was pulling up a web page.

"You got the servers linked up too?'

"Hell yeah!" Mitch bounced in his chair as the music changed to Metallica.

"Where do you get this stuff?"

Mitch shrugged. "I been around. I pick things up. I have so much junk, I swear. My mom would kick my ass if she saw the crap I keep."

Dan chuckled, leaning an elbow on the desk. "I have no idea what to think of you," he said quietly. "Whenever I think I might have you figured, you make me eat those words."

"Gimme fuel! Gimme fire! Gimme that which I desire!" Mitch sang and thrashed around in his chair.

Dan laughed, watching him. The other man settled down and smoothed his hair back with exaggerated calm. He gave a snobbish sniff and placed his hands delicately on the keyboard.

"And what would monshuuurr like to see, hmmm?" he drawled.

"Show me the scheduled dates for Seneschal Tyb."

"Oh, that, " Mitch muttered, his shoulders slumped comically as his fingers flew over the keyboard. The mouse moved without him touching it, and windows flashed through until he sat back. He tapped his nails on the screen with a flourish. "Voila!"

"Nice."

Mitch gasped in outrage. "Nice?? I pull up information from the dregs of Hell, from the very claws of the damned, to give you what you want and all I get is Nice?"

Dan arched a brow, grinning. "Very nice?"

Mitch nodded, folding his arms. "That's what I thought you said."

Dan laughed again and Mitch winked at him. "Ce'st bon, n'est pa?"

"Ah, oui," Dan replied. "Quite."