Letha was leaning against the building as Mickey emerged. The rain had stopped, leaving the street slick with water.

"Now what?" she demanded, rocking her head to face him. She wasn't glaring, didn't seem to be angry, but her expression was bleak.

"I don't know," Mickey said with a smile and a happy shrug, "What do you feel like doing? We could go and see a movie? Or go to the park?"

Letha glanced at her watch: 11:30. "Whatever you want."

He made a noise, drumming his fingers on his thigh. After a moment, he smiled. "I've got it!" Mickey exclaimed, starting down the footpath. Glancing behind her once, Letha followed.

"So what are we doing?"

Mickey grinned from ear to ear, eyes alight with excitement. "That's for me to know and you to find out."

"I hate surprises," Letha growled.

"I've noticed."

Practically humming, Mickey lead her down the street, turning left then right and then right again. "Remind me I parked in front of Min's, ok?"

Letha nodded. "Sherlock?"

He stopped, turning to her in surprise. "Yes, Letha?"

"You parked in front of Min's."

Mickey slumped forwards, rolling his eyes. "You're hilarious."

"I know," she muttered smugly, trailing after him as he continued walking.

They reached a crossing and Mickey pressed the button, waiting for the man to flash green.

"oh," Letha sighed, "You're one of those."

Mickey looked at her, hands in his pockets. "one of those?"

"Yeah. Those people who don't jaywalk even if there isn't a car in sight for," she glanced twirled in a circle, gesturing to the empty roads around them, "oh, I don't know, five kilometres!"

At that point, a small blue car trembled up the road, crawling through the crossing. The old man at the wheel nodded to them and then focussed on the road again.

"See," Mickey said indignantly, "that car could have hit us."

Letha shook her head. "No, I'm not that lucky."

The man turned green just as a small child toppled onto the road. The toddler's lip quivered and she threw back her head, tears cascading down her face as she let out a wail. Instantly, Mickey was at her side, picking the kid up and soothing her. A frazzled woman, baby in one arm, shopping bags in the other and a phone somehow clamped to her ear rushed over, smiling gratefully at Mickey as she mouthed a thank you.

"Look Brian," she said into the phone, "I have to go..." She frowned as he cut her off. "No, the kids..." the baby in her arms started to whimper, disturbed by his sister's sobs, and Mickey stepped closer.

Letha had slunk over and he palmed the child into her arms. "Woah!"

"Just hold her for a minute, Letha," Mickey urged, claiming the shopping bags from the mother, "She won't bite."

The little girl went quiet very suddenly and gnashed her teeth at the big girl, who cringed away. "You sure about that?"

Big blue eyes wide, the toddler stared at Letha, her chubby fingers slowly moving to wind in her curls. With a wicked grin, she tugged.

"Hey! Ow." Letha twisted her hair free, holding the girl at arms length. She just giggled, squirming to get back to her new toy.

"Mickey!"

The girl's mother managed to end her call, rocking her son gently back to sleep and smiled at Mickey. "Thank you so much for that."

He returned her grin, passing back the shopping. "No worries. You looked like you were in a bit of a pickle."

"walking, working and parenting at the same time?" she chuckled, "What could possibly go wrong?"

Irritated by the toddler, Letha stepped forward and shoved her into Mickey's arms, congratulating herself on not dangling the kid by her feet. The girl instantly latched onto Mickey's blue curl and gave a hearty reef. He just bopped her on the nose with his finger and she erupted in hysterics.

"You know," Letha grumbled, "That punch line always trips me up a little."

The woman's eyes flicked to her. "Not a baby person."

"Not a people person," the teen amended, glancing away.

Mickey lowered the little girl to the ground and her mother quickly caught her arm. "Just so long as you're your own person."

Letha's head jerked back, eyes aflame. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Letha..." Mickey cautioned, looking nervously at the woman.

"I just meant," the woman replied, walking away from them with another grateful nod at Mickey, "that sometimes you only have to put up with someone for a few years, but you have to put up with yourself for a lifetime."

She led her daughter away, and the little girl angled her head back to poke out her tongue. Mickey copied the gesture until she turned away again and he caught Letha staring.

"You want kids," She commented, "don't you?"

"What makes you say that?" Mickey asked as they kept walking, slowly than before, almost leisurely.

Letha shrugged. "You're good at it."

"just because you can do something doesn't mean you will... or that you should." He scratched his chin, glancing out the corner of his eye to watch her face. "Do you want kids?

"No." her reply was instantaneous and firm. "Never."

"why?" When Letha's face grew dark, he added, "If you don't mind me asking."

She kicked a pebble, sending it skidding out onto the road. It collided with the gutter and came to a standstill. "You didn't care whether I minded or not earlier. Kids complicate things, they make the world harder."

"And better," Mickey suggested, coming to a stop. "And on that sombre note, it's time to make the descent."

Letha looked at the building they were in front of and rolled her eyes. The front was painted black with a red-rimmed door set into it. A sign across the front read 'The Descent into Hell'.

"I thought you Angel types were morally against this kind of thing."

He rolled his eyes. "Come on." Opening the door to a narrow stair way, Mickey ushered her in before him.

Raising her chin, Letha rose to the challenge, stepping inside with a hand raised in front of her. Almost instantly, her fingers met rough stone and she had to turn, moving onto each step cautiously. Mickey groaned behind her as his head collided with the door frame and she smirked, continuing steadily down to 'hell'. A Red glare lit up her feet, highlighting the last few steps and she squinted into the room.

Clutching the beam of the archway, Letha ducked under, and staring around the room in surprised disgust. People swayed back and forth to her left, their faces contorted in the dim light, as she slowly took the last step. They were sectioned off by several  poles, leaving the bar and several tables on the teenagers side.

Mickey poked his head over her shoulder, his breath tickling her skin. "Why'd we stop?"

"Where the hell are we?" She returned, stepping away to hide her shiver. He trotted down the last few steps and grinned at her.

"It's called a club."

Letha snorted, flinching away as a man dragged his girlfriend past them, knocking shoulders with Mickey. He stumbled and then moved away more quickly as the couple locked lips in the stairwell.

"Just how legal is this place?" Letha asked with a sneer.

"For me?" He shrugged, looping his thumbs in his pockets. "100%. For you... maybe ... not so much." Mickey looked at her in surprise, his smile softening. "I didn't think you'd care."

Her response came quickly as she looked away, grinding her teeth. "Of course I don't."

There was a moan behind them and Mickey held a hand to Letha's back, being very careful not to touch her. "Let's get a table."

For once, Letha nodded without protest, and stormed over to the closest table. It was small, with four high stools scattered around it, and she easily hefted two and moved them over to the next table. The surprised couple sitting there watched her, but Letha just sneered and stomped away.

Mickey raised a brow. "Should I ask?"

"I hate it when people ask if a chair is being used," she explained huffily, clambering onto the stool. "It's unnecessary conversation."

Perching on his own seat, Mickey rolled his eyes. "I'm not even surprised by your...audacity...any more."

"I mustn't be trying hard enough then," Letha snapped, staring to the side.

She saw a stilt-like pair of heels approach, the waitress taking small, wobbly steps. Raising her eyes slowly, Letha realised that this was supposed to be an attractive hip-wiggle as her tight skirt restricted her movement.

The girl smiled brightly at Mickey, leaning on their table expertly so her shirt gaped. "hi."

He smiled in return. "Hello." He raised a hand and dragged it through his hair, catching Letha's eye with a glint of warning. Be polite, his eyes read.

The waitress introduced herself as Tess, still talking to Mickey only, and Letha felt annoyance bubbling up inside her. His eyes flickered to hers again, and she bit her tongue.

"So, what'll it be?" Tess asked, tossing her hair as she drew her pen slowly out from behind her ear, her eyelids batting ridiculously quickly. "Two beers?"

Letha made a noise. "You better make that one," her eyes fixed on Mickey's, "somebody is the designated driver."

Tess nodded and opened her mouth but the boy cut her off. "Actually, you'd better make those two ginger beers. Somebody is underage."

Scribbling it down on her notebook, the waitress nodded. Yeah, you would have to write that down, Letha thought, shaking her head.

"If you need anything else," Tess murmured, twirling on her heel, "Give me a call."

He nodded absently, tracing a pattern on the table. Mickey's head continued bopping, in rhythm with the music, and he shook his hair into his eyes. Smiling softly, he raised his eyes to find Letha watching him. He blinked.

"What did I do now?"

Letha shook her head, smirking. "Nothing... yet. Would you like me to duck to the bathrooms or something so you can go grab her number?"

He laughed. "I think I'm ok."

"Oh, so now you're going to tell me that you're not into women who throw themselves at men or women who make the first move or waitresses with huge breasts?" She demanded, with a cold laugh. "You've got to be kidding."

"Oh, I'm definitely not going to tell you that," Mickey grinned, raking his hair back, "but I don't pick up women when I'm out with a friend."

Letha grunted, tilting her head to the side. She ran her tongue against the inside of her teeth and looked away, shaking her head. Tess returned and set their drinks down, pressing her palm against Mickey's shoulder. She slowly rolled each of her fingers onto his shirt and gave it a gentle squeeze, pursing her lips.

"I can't help you guys with anything else?" she prodded.

Mickey smiled at her politely, his eyes emotionless. "No thank you."

Tess shrugged. "Enjoy." The clack of her heels as she strode away was drowned out as a loud song came on, deafening Letha. She flinched and shrugged her shoulders up to her ears, grimacing.

Mickey just took a swig of his ginger beer. He swallowed heavily, took a deep breath and stood up, offering Letha his hand.

"Would you like to dance?"

Letha stared at him in shock. "Dance?"

He stepped behind her, pointing to the sunken part of the club. "See that over there, with all the people moving? That's called a dance floor. I'm going to go there and imitate a headless chicken along with all the other young people and I would like you to join me and have fun."

It was Letha's turn to swallow. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek as he leant over her shoulder, but she refused to turn and face him, instead focussing on the dance floor. "Is that an offer or a demand?"

"Both." Mickey stepped back into view, his face blank. "I'll be waiting." With that said, he turned and strode towards the mob, hopping quickly over a few stairs and then disappearing into the crowd. Very quickly, Letha lost sight of him and her eyes focussed on her drink instead. She lifted it to her lips and swallowed. He hadn't challenged he, hadn't dared her, but for some reason, Letha felt the need to prove something.

"I have nothing to prove," She muttered to herself, taking another sip before setting the bottle down. Mickey was the one trying to prove something. He wanted her to be someone else. What he didn't understand was that there would never be someone else. Letha was who she was and that would never change.  "I have nothing to prove."

Even as she said it, Letha was on her feet, moving determinedly towards the dancers. Who was she kidding; she had everything to prove.

Slipping between two gyrating couples, Letha's expression turned to one of contempt. A guy approached her and looked her up and down. With pursed lips he closed the gap between them, leading with his pelvis until they were centimetres apart.

"hello hottie," he slurred, the drink he clutched in one hand spilling over onto the floor, "What's with the school girl get up? You got a guy who that does it for?"

Letha jerked away, her back hitting someone else's. "Get off me." She ordered, scowling at him.

The guy kept coming though, his eyes crossing briefly before they refocussed on her chest. "I'll chase you if that's what you're into, babe."

All the heat radiating from the dancers was making Letha sweat, and some of her hair was plastered to her forehead. She dragged the back of her hand across her face.

"Bugger off," she snapped, "Go find another girl to screw."

The man smirked, but another voice cut off what he was about to say.

"may I cut in?"

For the first time, Letha noticed that Mickey could actually be quite imposing when he wanted. He was a tall guy and solidly built, so when the cocky drunk turned to find mickey beside him, he nodded his head, turned tail and darted back into the crowd.

"Hey," Letha said, nodding softly, "You do have a use."

"You are on the dance floor," he responded, stepping a bit closer to hear her over the music, "I'm impressed."

She pursed her lips. "I thought you'd realised I can't ignore a challenge."

"I have."

"then why do you sound so surprised?" Letha demanded, raising a brow.

He smirked at her. "Because I tried to word it as an invitation. I wanted you to choose this."

"Offer and demand," she murmured.

Swaying gently to the music, mickey nodded. "It's very difficult not to challenge you, though. You're so... stubborn."

Letha ignored that, looking to the side. As she spoke, she deliberately kept her attention elsewhere, though she waited with baited breath for his response. "This is part of your 'Letha Experiment' right? You want to see what decisions I make in a different environment. Like a rat in a maze." Her voice grew cold at the end, and she just managed to rein in a shiver.

"No," Mickey's voice was low, nearly a growl, as he reached for her. He fisted his fingers before they touched her and lowered his arm to his side. "Don't say it like that. This is you and I hanging out as friends. Ditching school as friends. Tyring knew things as friends."

She snorted. "I bet your cult is so proud of you right now; trying to bring the black sheep back to the side of good. Sacrificing your own education to save one single soul!" Letha said the words as if from a soap opera, clutching a hand to her chest and tyring to look forlorn.

"Actually, my family are probably very unimpressed by now," he admitted, shaking his hair forward again. He grinned, "I'll probably get lectured tonight about setting a good example or something."

"By Azrael?"

"No," mickey shook his head with a chuckle, "by Zach. He can be a very ... strict brother. a bit of a stick in the mud really."

"I find that so hard to believe," Letha met his eyes again, tapping her temple, "Isn't this all completely against your coding?"

"It's not an order in a computer, Letha," he snapped, shaking his head, "It's not set in stone. To tell you the truth, it's not even outlined in stone. I feel exactly like I did before, I think exactly like I did before."

The music seemed to grow louder, and Letha had to lean in closer to hear him. Despite herself, she was genuinely curious about what was happening in his brain.

"So you were 'good' before you got your room mate?"

Mickey squirmed. "Relatively speaking," he shrugged, leaning closer. Their heads were ear to ear now, and they spoke only loud enough so the other could understand. "I'll never be a 'good guy'. But I'm a guy trying to be good. That's the best I can do."

"are Gabe and Zach and Cassie... is your whole family just 'trying to be good'?" there was a small hint of wonder in Letha's voice that she tried to hide with a cough.

"on a basic level? Yeah. We all came from bad places, bad pasts, bad people. But we fought, and won, to get where we are today."

"A small town in the middle of nowhere?"

Mickey smiled, "you could say that."

There was a pregnant pause as Letha processed that. "It sounds like a lot of effort," She breathed, scratching her chin.

"It was... it is ..." He took a deep breath, pulling back to meet her eyes. "But I think it's worth it. The question is; do you?"

The music blared on into the silence, leaving the pair standing close, eyes locked on each other. Mickey hardly dared breath, as Letha contemplated. In truth, he needn't have bothered. Letha knew her answer from the moment he started speaking, from the moment someone, somewhere had though to ask 'do you?'.

"No."

Mickey's eyes fell shut and he took a deep breath, trying not to let his disappointment leak out. He wanted to help Letha, he knew it wouldn't be that easy, but tiny rays of pointless hope were often the hardest to squash. He opened his eyes after a moment and smiled.

"Shall we dance then? Rather than just standing here pointlessly?" as a demonstration, he wiggled his hips.

Letha shied away instantly, glowering at him. " I don't dance." Very quickly, Letha turned and stalked away, barging her way through the crowd. Most of the dancers were too inebriated to care, but a few sent her scowls or murmured curses to their friends.

Mickey sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I thought as much."