Morningstar Manor

Christ, her head hurt.

The tylenol wasn't where it was supposed to be either. And when did she ever let the apartment get this messy? She frowned slightly, feeling like she was forgetting something but not knowing where to start. The more she thought about it, the more her head hurt.

Better to just concentrate on something else, like fixing Trevor's dinner. He'd be home soon, after all. It was a thought that perked her up a little. She'd missed her husband.

"Sit down, son." Vision gestured at the chair. "Take a load off."

Trevor sat. His guts were tied tighter than a virgin's bikini strings. He linked his fingers together, pressed them between his knees to hide the shaking.

He wondered if it would hurt.

But what could hurt worse than this? Knowing he'd fucked up his life so bad?

"I just want it all back. The way it was before."

Vision nodded, sympathetic. "Of course you do, son. Of course. And all I need is your guarantee that you'll...be available...for whatever I might need from you. Now or in the future. Or even after that."

Vision's grin was something dark and terrible; the taste of bitter fear coated Trevor's tongue, and darkness poked at him with slender, spidery fingers.

But he nodded. "Yes. Whatever you need, take it. You can have it. I just want my wife back. My life back."

"Fine." Vision sat back in his chair. "It's done. Now go on, kid, get out of here, you're starting to wear my nerves."

Trevor stood, waiting to feel different, but he didn't. He held out his hand to Mr. Vision, who didn't take it. Then he went out of the office and went home...

...hoping when he got there things would be back to how they'd been before.

Anastasia's hand shook a bit as she used her key to open the door to the apartment she shared with Gavin. It had been... Well, months. And she couldn't take it anymore.

She had to check on him. Had to see him. Had to make sure he was okay.

Trevor had taken the whole week off and Anastasia had to say that she was quite enjoying the time with her husband.
Classes were over, Trevor was home, and there was no one but them, no obligations, no problems at all, really.  It was perfect. 

She'd let Trevor sleep in for as long as she was able to stand it before she crawled back in bed and lay on his back, nuzzling the side of his neck.

"Wakey wakey," she whispered into his ear, stroking her finger over the lobe.

Anastasia had decided to splurge and pick up some Chinese for lunch. She remembered what Trevor liked and had snagged some for him too. He was at home today for some reason, and she figured if they were going to be around each other for a whole day they should have some Chinese too.

"Trevor," she called into the apartment. "I've got food."

Anastasia was feeling good today. Really good.

She'd had the day off of class and had decided to go out and run some errands. She'd gotten a bonus check from the college for supervising some open lab time, and she took the money to do some grocery shopping. She'd splurged on some steaks and a little table top grill, thinking they could go outside since it was so gorgeous and have a little makeshift picnic.
She was - happy. And she wanted to be with Gavin.

"Baby," she called when she walked into the apartment and shut the door behind her. "I've got some good stuff. C'mere!"

Sterrin was tired of being bored, and she was about to MAKE some fun for herself.

Armed with an extra large pizza, a case of beer and a box of wings, she knocked on Trevor's apartment door with her foot.

Sterrin had worked herself into a lather. Was Declan ever going to stop being a baby about this shit? She'd come home yesterday finally only to find him refusing to speak to her.

She was tired of being treated like a villian in her own home, especially over Callan Fuckin' Mcleod.

She'd gone up to swim in the pool and hadn't stopped until her arms were sore, but she was still irritated. She didn't want to go home again.

Taking the elevator, she went down to the third floor and knocked on Trevor's door, still wet, in a bikini with a towel wrapped around her and a pair of black flip flops.

Everyone was well on their way to getting hammered on Trevor's father's dime, but Anastasia didn't care. She was sublimely, blissfully happy.

She was married. Married! To Trevor Wentworth.  How could she ever be unhappy again?

Sterrin had found one of Jack's shirts. It had to be Jack's because she'd never seen denim in her brother's closet, and figured finder's keepers, right?

So when she knocked on Trevor's door it was in that shirt tied up above her navel and a pair of skinny jeans tucked into brown boots. She was in a weird mood and wanted some company for dinner.

She wasn't sure what had brought this decision about, other than she knew it was long past time she talked her her husband. Ex-husband it would soon be, and it was important that they talk to each other instead of just through the lawyers. She didn't want this to be any more awkward than it had to be, and the fact of the matter was that she and Gavin were still going to see Trevor from time to time.

More than that, she didn't want him to hate her. Because she didn't hate him. At all.

Feeling sort of sick, she knocked on the door of what used to be her home and waited.

Sterrin was bored, restless, and most of all fucking sick of being stuck in her brother's apartment. She needed something, someone, anyone, that didn't make her want to kill something or gouge her eyes out from bordom.
After considering for a long time, she wandered around the manor and finally took a leap of faith and knocked on Trevor's door.

Isabella wasn't feeling right at all. She hadn't been since about a week before her mother's passing and she wasn't really sure how to fix herself, aside from working when she shouldn't and drinking a little extra when the time was right. She was on her way to lunch at work when she hit a button in the elevator that would take her all the way to the top floor - a floor she hadn't been on in months.
She wasn't really sure why, but she got off the elevator and smiled at his secretary with a kindness she didn't feel.

"Mr. Wentworth, please."

"...yeah. Nothing but what she worked for herself. I'm keeping the apartment. No, John, actually I don't care where she goes or what she does. She can fight me for whatever she wants, but as far as I'm concerned, she gets nothing." Trevor was deadly serious about this. "Out of the trust fund, too. Yes. Well, she'll have my brother's piece of it now, won't she? No, I'm not....no. Just write up the fucking papers, John, and get them to me to sign. I want this done."

He looked up at the knock on the door. "Come in."

Trevor had listened to the whole story stone-faced, fists clenched. When it was through, Gavin was sure his brother was going to pound the shit out of him. Instead, Trevor just stood.

"Get the fuck out of my house."

It wasn't more than Gavin had expected. "I'm sorry, Trev."


"You're not sorry, you little fucker. How could you be? You're fucking my wife. Why would you be sorry about that? I know how it is, remember?"

Gavin shook his head. "That's not why I'm sorry. I love her, man. I'm sorry because..."

"If you say I love you too, I'll fucking drop you to the floor and beat the shit out of you," Trevor said flatly. "You both don't love me, or else you wouldn't be doing this."

"We couldn't help it," Gavin said, feeling guilty anyway.

"Well," Trevor said without sympathy, "You should've. Now pick up your shit and get the fuck out."

Gavin, knowing there was nothing more to say, did.

But he went to Anastasia, which is where his heart belonged.

Sterrin had come to work today, not to recieve assignments but to tell Isabella she wouldn't be taking any more. Isabella hadn't really seemed surprised and hadn't asked why, which Sterrin was mildly disappointed by.  She would've quite enjoyed telling Isabella all about it. She'd agreed to finish off the dates that were already scheduled and had almost made it to the door of the building when she remembered Trevor.
She should go talk to him too, she reasoned as she turned back around and headed toward his offices.

Now she sat in his waiting room wearing a black dress and heels, and smiling contentedly at his secretary as she pretended not to look at Sterrin.

Anastasia sat across from her husband at a small table in Steer Heaven, laughing and feeling entirely good and maybe just a little drunk. It was fun, being with him like this again. And it wasn't exactly like how it used to be, but what ever was?

Connor, in the Lamb, had taken over the bar to give Molly the day off so she could...well, do whatever it was that needed doing this close to Christmas. He was alternately serving drinks and food and working on some lists of things he intended to order for the Lamb, bills to be paid, general stuff like that -- but ahhh, it felt good to be doing it in person instead of over the phone or online.

Sarah had ducked down to the Mocha for something sweet, her notebook in hand. She'd actually managed a few chapters on her book-that-wasn't-a-memoir-after-all, and it felt good to take a break from writing to face the world, even if it was still only inside the Manor.

Brian and his Grams were also in the Mocha, Grams looking pink-cheeked in her favorite dress and hat, ready to be taken out for a full day of Christmas shopping. Brian looked tired, probably because...he was. Late nights and early mornings at the lab were taking a toll.

Trevor in the gym, working out hard, working up a sweat. He was feeling strange, had to get out of the apartment that was too empty without his wife.

Gavin, on the other hand, was really out and about, sitting in the corner at the Lamb, nursing a Guiness and basket of fries. It was time, he'd decided, to get the hell out of that apartment, meet some people, get a life that didn't revolve around his brother...or anything else.

Annnnnd, finally, Elspeth was in the lobby overseeing some last-minute changes in the holiday decorations. It turns out some of the glass balls dangling from the Manor's oversized tree were too breakable, so she was supervising their replacement and the re-hanging of nearly identical ones in child-proof plastic.

Sterrin walked through the Wentworth building and into the elevator with a folder tucked under her arm. She wanted an opinion, a male opinion, and while there were lots of male opinions to be had in her boss's office, she didn't want any of those. Where was the fun in that?
She pressed the button that would take her to the top floor and smiled at Trevor's secretary when she stepped off.
"Hey, Tiffany. Is he in?"
The blonde frowned a bit but nodded for her to take a seat and picked up the phone to let Trevor know she was there.

"No, dude. If you finish the fucking ketchup, you should buy a new bottle." This came from Trevor, looking angry, holding the bottle toward his brother.

"No, DUDE," Gavin said. "I didn't fucking finish the bottle, YOU did."

Something dark skittered in the kitchen.

Feasting.