Scott's closed himself off again.

He's taking her car to Annandale-on-Hudson tomorrow. I'll send my car and driver to pick him up.

I hope that cow is happy with what she did to him. Absence makes the heart grow fonder my sculpted behind.

In more important news, I've spoken to several of the parents and children. Many of them are relieved that their children are 'safe' again, while others have had to deal with literal or figurative grief. Some of the children have died because their powers kept them alive. Some of the children have lost what made them live, and they're not dealing with it well.

Of those that still have their powers, only about forty percent of them are coming back to the school despite my warnings. Their parents think they can protect and hide them. Given what I've seen from MAMA and others of their ilk (and there are more rising every day), I don't think it will be long before we see them at the mansion or in the obituaries.

I've done my best to get the depowered students and humans out of the school and its grounds. It's been hard, but if I'm to protect anyone, mutant or newly-human, the ones without their powers are just not safe in this place. It doesn't stop them from wanting to help, and with Scott willing to house and foster that support, I'll deal with it.

I fear what the future will bring, but I will keep them safe.

I spoke with Remy not long ago about Astrid. He said he would check into what she's been doing so far, and would follow her if need be.

I'd thought that I'd seen the last of her when I left her in that dorm room. I should have seen the last of her, but breaking her mind had been a fledgling effort, the first spread of my mental wings. Clumsy, really, now that I think about it.

Now she's a headmistress, and I find myself off-balance. Did she do this to get to me? Does she truly care for the students? Has she seen the error of her ways, as I did? The way she used to think of normal humans, she would be easy prey for what remains of the Brotherhood.

We shall see what Remy's contacts bring me.

I've not told Scott yet. I don't know why, really. He should know what she's capable of, if it comes to taking her on. Not that she's a match for me anymore. I've come a long way since that fledgling effort, and I'll bet the training that I received at the Hellfire Club, and among the X-Men is more than she could manage on her own.

In other news, I've been working with Jane to help her direct her visions instead of just letting them control her. I couldn't be prouder of her. Her visions during our first session were surprisingly specific, and a bit disconcerting as well. Those are hers to reveal or explore as she wishes, but I have to wonder how the enraged big-cat-with-hands has affected her and Hank.

In all things, we shall see.

Things have sunk into a pleasantly numbing routine, brightened on the weekends by a blue-eyed demon in a fast, fast car. Palm Springs can't come fast enough, in my opinion.

There are, however, still things happening even when it seems nothing is happening.

Scott has come out of his funk, thankfully. It's far more pleasant with his thoughts neatly ordered once more, and I can forgive the occasional wandering to a red-haired girl half a world away. From what I've gleaned, I can thank Henry for helping him escape the depression and guilt. Perhaps I'll bring a fresh thermos of the Peruvian blonde down to the laboratory again. I've not visited in quite some time, and I'd promised him weekly chats.

I wonder if I should tell him. Is it wicked of me to think of the look on his face when he knows?

The children went to the mall two weekends ago, and their minds were buzzing with more than their shopping excursion. Something is afoot there, but it can wait. It's coming up on summer break anyway, and the children will be home, where they can do whatever they wish. I shall miss them regardless. I do so love to teach.

It doesn't hurt that I once again have reclaimed the telepathic throne from the Grey usurper.

I spoke with Detective O'Reilly about her former lover, and have tried to glean his whereabouts using Cerebra, but his movements are more erratic than Kurt's ever was. I'll have to speak to her again about the details of what he can do, and how best to contact him. Most people don't quite know how to respond to a voice in their head, though from what I got from the detective's mind, I think the response would be favorable.

Ian and Remy are still nauseatingly in their honeymoon stage. Thankfully, the only evidence of such is what I see instead of what I overhear. I suppose I'll pat myself on the back for helping him with his shielding. He's made me proud, that boy. The stock tips are an added bonus, of course.

What I have overheard, louder than a klaxon on occasion, are Kate and Timothy, hoping desperately that someone can help them understand their own sexuality. I've had to stifle a knowing smile, given what I've heard through their ears when they've talked to their chosen confidants. Terribly amusing, all of it.

I wonder if Kate will think of me as a confidant one day. Scott would be positively scandalized over the things I would tell her.

Jane and Henry - It's so nice to see him playful again, even if the sight of him with his fur plastered to his skin is something I'd rather not have to picture. Must have some tea with Jane soon; I've not enjoyed her company for far too long. I still haven't heard from either of them of their trip to Dunfee. I've picked up nothing but happiness, with a touch of loving aggravation from Henry towards his parents and their ways. I suspect more than one embarrassing incident was shared over the dinner table.

Robert and Grace - Very little on that front. It would seem Robert has become more reticent around the mansion and taken himself off-campus for most of his heart-to-hearts. Grace continues to hang onto the hope that he'll be 'better'. If he admitted his love for her during this time of mental and emotional turmoil, one has to wonder if that love is coming from the fact that she's a rock in his mental storm more than someone he loves.

Samantha and Edward - Until she talks to him, I doubt that they'll ever be more than friends, if that. And odd thing, that; having so much in common, but separated by the heart. Disappointing as well. Must talk to Robert and find out how she's doing. She needs to learn to use all of her abilities, including the ways that water can be so versatile a weapon.

The discussion panel is tomorrow. I'm looking forward to seeing Christine again. So are some of her classmates, I'm sure. Hopefully the children will be interested in the non-spandex option of being a mutant.

It's getting easier to work in my office these days, as Scott has managed to put aside his near-despair and think more like a human again.

He's still being insufferable, moving about the mansion with his misplaced purpose, washing clean cars and running diagnostics on the Blackbird when it's in tip-top shape. The children are worried a bit for him, but if they avoid him for any longer because of this I'm going to shake him.

And I'm probably going to enjoy it more than I should.

There was a slumber party not long ago, among the girls in the mansion. Have we all become children again?

I've made plans for part of the brief summer break. With luck, a week in Palm Springs with nothing to do but stay in and...be entertained won't interfere with any Official X-Men Duties.

It had better not.

Kate has a lovely summer planned with Timothy, both in Minnesota and Yonkers. If she doesn't come back with a particular glow about her, I will be most surprised.

Robert continues to fumble about his love life. I wonder if Grace knows that the only reason he hasn't told me he loves me is because we haven't spoken lately? His therapist must be having a field day with his neuroses.

Ian and Remy are still in their 'newlywed' phase. It gives me a bloody migraine, and I thank god that Ian's shields are strong enough that I don't have to deal with it all the time.

Detective O'Reilly is still with us; it seems that whomever she faced with Ororo and Remy has made her apartment unsafe at the moment, and it appears she has her own man troubles at the moment, if what I'm picking up from her is any indication. Shadows and heartache...it's intriguing, if only because so few people around this place are actually mysteries to me.

Jean has a new car, a little Beemer that Scott's been polishing for all the world like Lady Macbeth and her bloody hands. I look forward to the day he becomes a man again and not a lost little boy whose best friend moved away.

And to think I was lovesick for him. What on earth does that say for me? My demon has already chastised me enough for it. Perhaps I'll bring it up again just to make him shut me up in a way that leaves both of us panting and sated.

It has been a busy time here at the mansion, and my responsibilities kept me from my usual weekend plans.

Charles contacted Jean, and with a snap of his fingers, has summoned her to his side on Genosha. Scott was not pleased in the least. I'd look after him, but he has others who are champing at the bit to take care of him. I'll look after the school, and the children, if he lets his pent-up anger at the situation get the best of him.

The guilt this man carries with him is unbelievable. We may be mutants, but we're still human. A little honest hate is nothing to feel guilty over. Even if it is towards the man who practically raised him. It's a shame, truly.

Enough of that. If I was his lover, I'd be entitled to be concerned. I'm barely even his friend.

Something is going on with the students, but there has been too much to do for me to delve any deeper.

Remy, Ororo and Detective O'Reilly got into something recently, and the only thing I can figure out is something involving a gorilla. Whatever it was, it left Ororo with a healing wound on her arm and Remy moving slower when it comes to his ribs. The Detective had a few days' stay in our accommodations downstairs before being released, fully healed and freshly furred.

Remy and Ian have finally consummated their relationship, if the glow I see in and feel from Ian is any indication. I'd say it was a good thing, so I don't have to feel the desire that leaks through Ian's shields at the sight of Remy, but now that they've taken things further the saccharin is nauseating.

Robert is in therapy, and it seems to be doing some good. For Grace, however...neither of them see how her need to heal hurts is going to hurt both of them. Again, Grace has people who would walk through fire for her; no need for me to say anything should he hurt her in any way.

The tension between Timothy and Kate is reaching the point of irritation. At least they're being careful and talking with each other, from what I gleaned from Kate a few days ago. At least now she'll be wearing a swimsuit that flatters her instead of making her appear even more corpselike.

Samantha is going to see Dr. Havran, one of the therapists that Scott and I both recommend. She is a mutant herself, skilled in aromatherapy from what I remember, and should be able to help her work through her issues and regain trust in others again.

I'll miss the students over the summer break. That's something I expected, but I didn't expect the pang I feel when I think ahead to the silence of this place. Perhaps if my responsibilities as an X-Man aren't needed, there will be more time in the City.

To that end, I must e-mail my speed demon.

I've come to greatly enjoy my weekends away from the Mansion. I hadn't realized how much the sexual tension oozing about the place was affecting my mood, and spending them in the City has become a balm to the daily mental pressure of the coupling.

Long baths and phone "conversations" have certainly helped as well.

Ian gave me a lovely gift for what I did for him, and the information he gleaned is now a feather in my stock portfolio, as well as a boon for Frost Enterprises. The feeling of his gratitude, however, I consider more precious, considering all he and I have dealt with together. I'm proud of him for what he's accomplished, and now that he's growing more comfortable with shielding and ethics, I'm more than happy to call him friend.

Brat is a more appropriate term, but at least we're on such terms. Whether he's ready to call me such is a matter of opinion.

Had a chat with Rogue the other evening about her classes and how to challenge the students so they're not simply looking forward to the food. It's a rare treat when one of the X-Men comes to me for advice, and even rarer that I was able to have a conversation with one that didn't involve thinly-veiled verbal barbs. It seems that she and I are both moving on with our lives, both romantic and otherwise, and I'm not sure if I envy her renewed friendship with Remy whereas my relationship with Scott has always been more professional and courteous than anything resembling what he has with the others.

Of course, that only reminds me of Henry's voice chiding me about never allowing such a relationship to develop, and I smile and move on.

Onto the baser pursuits of the population:

Edward and Samantha continue to walk a very thin tightrope. Must speak to Samantha or Robert as well about her training.

Kate and Timothy are on the verge of consummation from what I can tell, though there's a tension in the little cat that wasn't there a while ago.

Henry and Jane are positively saccharin these days. I adore it.

I'd rather not think about Scott and Jean. I hear enough from them at night to know they're doing fine.

Robert and Grace. They've reached an odd plateau that I assume will improve when Robert starts getting the help he needs (Scott's told me that he is). Poor Grace; someone should tell her to stop getting involved with men whose powers deal with ice. There is always something about them that never gets warm again.

And me? That depends on how close it is to the weekend.

It has been a slow week, with a few highlights.

I did a favor for Remy and Ian, and was repaid quite nicely with a Godiva gift box. At least someone appreciates the favors I do for them. One would think I saved his life, or something to that effect.

Scott seems to be a bit more relaxed these days. As much as she irritates me, the fact that Scott is getting regular sex lately has made him much easier to work with. I sensed a bit of possessive tension prickling, however, when he spoke to Logan. I have to wonder what the Wolverine has been hiding under that cranky exterior when it comes to Jean...at the very least, I'll be keeping a mental eye on that, as it seems to be shaping up to be most entertaining.

Things between Edward and Samantha seem to have cooled, much to both of their irritation. Robert mentioned wanting to get her into therapy, and I have to give him a few names of ones that I trust. Must get those together today.

Conversely, things between Kate and Timothy seem to be heating up. It is a joy to see healthy sexuality blossom in young people. Now to perhaps talk to Henry about counseling his young feline charge about things.

Henry and Jane. I confess that I am quite pleased with myself in giving Jane the nudge that she needed to put things back on an even keel. And they are adorable together.

Robert...I should speak to Scott about the tension that I'm feeling from him, if he hasn't noticed already.

I'm counting the hours until tomorrow night. Watching the boys play basketball the other night didn't help things either. Jean might enjoy Scott's attentions, but it certainly doesn't stop others from looking, admiring. Remy has that lovely, lanky grace, and Logan a feral...compactness that makes him quite easy on the eyes whether he's my type or not. Even young David, when he's not bathed in the sickly glow of the computer...

Enough. Perhaps a little mental sojourn this evening will cool the flames until tomorrow.

It has been a good few weeks.

After a gentle nudge to Jane regarding the Care and Feeding of Henry McCoy, I was most pleased to feel their quiet contentment in the moment that night.

The school remains intact, the children their normal hormonal selves. Kate went with Scott and his little red-haired girl to visit the Greys, and continues to enjoy the adolescent attentions of her catboy. Samantha and Edward continue to avoid one another; I should probably speak to her sometime soon. If he's done something to hurt her I can guarantee that things will end badly.

The X-Men are their normal hormonal selves as well. I was intrigued to find out that Remy and Ian are now a couple. Perhaps Remy can succeed where I faltered, and convince Ian that he's worth the caring that the rest of us have for him. I meant what I told Remy, that I'd be happy for him when he stopped seeking everyone's approval, particularly mine. I used to hang on to every nod of approval I received from Scott, and I'm almost happy he made the choice he did. It certainly woke me up to see that I'd forgotten that I was the diamond, a center stone, and not some cheap zircon to highlight him.

That being said...we could have been amazing. The more fool he.

At least now I'm seen for the jewel that I am. Is the weekend here yet?

Perhaps I'll commiserate with Rogue sometime. I'm sure that she's feeling more than a little awkward around the Cajun now, though I doubt she's interested in hearing my council.

Though living well is truly the best revenge, and there is still enough Hellfire in me that revels in said vengeance.

Is it possible to cheerfully contemplate murder?

I certainly hope they're pleased with themselves. Not that they need my hope, given what I both heard and felt from them Friday night.

I am finished with them both.

I will not pine or pout. If he is too blind to see past an old and wrinkled comfortable flannel blanket and beer to appreciate fine silk and champagne, so be it. I was due for another trip to the City anyway.

And...it was more than worth it.

In other news, I received a Mother's Day gift from Samantha (Robert has re-taken her under his wing for the moment). Kate and I had a picnic in the grass. I showed her where I planted her tree, and I look forward to watching them both grow under my care.

The tree signified another event as well - a truce between myself and Ororo. We shall never be friends, of course, but perhaps we're not mortal enemies. I'm sure I'll feel the smug satisfaction of them all once they find out about their Fearless Leader and his Little Red-Haired Girl.

I refuse to "make nice", and if I have to sleep with my shields so tight even her caterwauling won't penetrate (ha) it, so be it.

Well, I suppose my curiosity over whether Henry McCoy is an animal in bed has been satisfied. Not personally, mind, but hearing of his weekend with Jane and the destroyed bed linens certainly made things clear.

Sadly, his curiosity was nearly truly feline, and it pains him to know that he couldn't quite curb the instinctive behavior that accompanied his new mutated form. Hopefully our now-weekly chats over coffee will allow him to sound out his thoughts and ideas so he and Jane can talk rationally to one another.

I'm happy for them both. They are lovely together, and I wish them all the happiness they deserve. The same is true for all of the newly forming couples in the mansion, though nobody will ever believe it if I said anything.

That said, the sexual tension that has come with Springtime has all but throttled me mentally.

Scott and Jean are positively nauseating. Just get it over with.

Henry and Jane, for all of their personal strength, grate on my mental nerves with their tentative attempts to talk about sex. The yearning and pulling away...It's like nails on a bloody chalkboard.

Robert and Grace...I'm not sure of the sincerity behind the smiles. That Robert has a problem with women and relationships is very well-known. I wonder how aware of it she is?

I'm going to kill Remy and Ian and Rogue if their maudlin antics keep up.

Timothy and Kate's adolescent fumblings are amusing at best. At least they're acting their ages.

Samantha and Edward. That's headed for trouble if he doesn't know what he's getting into.

And here I am, a Queen on her throne presiding over it all. Where is my strapping stableboy to seduce and enjoy? Apparently he took off with the stable wench while I was too afraid to open my bloody mouth.

Maybe it's time to drown my sorrows in a bottle of scotch?

At the very least, it's time to replace the batteries in my current "consort".

I can hear his thoughts from across the hall. I never knew one man could feel such crushing guilt.

I would offer him comfort, if he would accept it. No doubt I'd get another round of "Why didn't you stop her? I'm not the one who could have found her with my mind!"

Besides, he has another to offer him comfort, to soothe him and coo platitudes until he falls asleep in her arms.

I'll have to speak with Henry as well. If anyone deserves my comfort...

I should have stopped her. I could have found her if I'd been quick enough. I should have detected her thoughts of escape the second she had them. Why I wasn't doing a sweep of the brig I'll never know.

But I do know, and that's what killed Nina.

It's time to lay that aside and accept defeat as gracefully as I can. Not that it will be in any way graceful or friendly. I still run this school with him, and I won't abdicate that throne to any red-headed stepchild.

But I won't let jealousy blind me again.

Damn them both.

Let Wisdom have his Pryde.

Let Summers have his little red-haired girl.

I have had it.

Never have I been more anxious to teach again, and if that means scrambling Hatcher's brain so he thinks that it was human terrorists that held him captive, so be it.

Scott will crawl before I'll forgive him. At least it's gratifying to write when I know I'll forgive him regardless.

I've been avoiding him.

I've no idea why. Some absurd notion that he doesn't want to see me? That shouldn't stop me from telling him things that are vital to the team, to our survival.

Except I'm not part of the team anymore. Now I'm simply a convenient schoolmarm while the real X-Men go to battle. They have their pet telepath back, one that (regrettably) I know is far more powerful when psychic push comes to shove.

I'll run the school. I'll protect the children. I'll protect all of mutantkind if Scott looks the other way a moment while I deal with President Hatcher's memories. That is, if we're even still alive.

For now, I'll go down to Cerebra, see if I can track down Creed and the others. Then I have an English final to prepare.

We almost lost one of the students last week. I almost lost her, and all I would have been able to do is watch and swat bees while she died in my arms. Henry was there to catch me this time when my emotional bulwarks collapsed, and I think that he's the only one that sympathizes at all. I can't lose another one, not another one under my care.

Celeste, Mindee, Phoebe. My beautiful girls, cut down in a massacre that made them simply numbers in a body count.

Kate, Samantha, Selene. I will not let it happen again. I will protect you.

Charles contacted us last night and sent for Bobby.

Scott's jealous. I didn't even need to look into his mind; he was projecting it strong enough for a child to read.

When is he going to realize that he is more than just Charles' Number One Son?

Yet another one of those things that infuriate me about him. At least the students realize their own potential.

Kitty and Remy are going to be conducting a raid on MAMA's headquarters this weekend, and the X-Men are going to Philadephia to help Detecive O'Reilly (to whom I've not even been introduced) if her meeting with the Brotherhood becomes...difficult.

With Jean's return, I'm doing my best not to feel redundant. At least Scott agreed to the requests, which will make the students happy. That means I can have a quiet three-day weekend to not listen to how much he loves her car.

I'm going for a snack.

The henna still stains my hands. I feel like Lady bloody Macbeth every time I look at it and the colossal failure that it was. "Remarkable woman" my ear. The only one worth remarking upon was Jean, apparently.

Henry and Jane looked lovely. I've never been so proud of both of them for doing what I can't.

Right. Back to business.

Scott gave me the rundown regarding our latest situations. Candid cameras, international incidents, and an orange-furred detective that's looking for the Brotherhood and our dearly defected Charlotte (bloody Cerebra - there must be something blocking me). If he needs my opinion he'll call, I'm sure. I'll just keep the school running like a good gal Friday.

Bloody arrogant man.

The new office is almost unpacked. Not quite the luxury of Charles' sanctum, but perhaps the collective knickers of The Three will untwist just enough that we can at least talk to one another instead of the tension that thickens exponentially when we're in the same room.

Perhas Ian and I have found a common ground, enough that he doesn't quite hate me. He is an excellent dancer. I hope everyone enjoyed our display and that Ian found someone to enjoy that night.

I need to talk to Selene and Samantha, see how they're doing. And Kate, the little minx. They'll restore my cheer, certainly. I have to talk to Robert as well. It's been far too long.

I am heartily sick of being the better person.

I refuse to ingratiate myself to any of them.

But perhaps it's time to take certain steps. I resent considering these steps at all, but for all that I would love to mentally fillet her, Jean had a point. The Three have considerably more influence over Scott than I do, and the bulwark of Charles' trust can only hold so long against the rallying cry of, "You can't trust her!" when it comes to their leader.

Their leader. It must turn their stomachs to call me an X-Man. Never mind that I follow Scott's orders to the letter. Never mind that if I don't shield constantly I can feel the prickle of their scorn every time they walk by. How low the White Queen has fallen, to have to grovel at the feet of the Three.

And Ian. Bloody hell.

I need to spend some time with the children. They may not be able to ease my baser frustrations, but their trust and their smiles are a balm to my frayed mental nerves.

So wonderful to see all the X-Men together again. I can't help but laugh at the coincidence that brought Jean, Ororo and Kitty (hereafter known as the Three) back to work with me. I'm sure there is another being in the cosmos laughing along with me.

Traded barbs with Ororo not long ago, and found out that the only reason that I'm tolerated by the Three is because all of them trust Scott and Charles. While I might regret what I said and did, I also refuse to prostrate myself before them to convince them I am not a threat to them. They don't have to trust me. They don't even have to like me, but I've done enough in my life to warrant a smidgen of respect.

Bobby respects me.

Scott trusts me.

Henry likes me.

The children like me.

It's not enough. Not when I can hear the mental derision regarding my actions towards Scott. The children may think it 'icky' picturing their teachers kissing, but I have a feeling the Three would flay me before they saw me in his arms. Hank would probably chortle and send me flowers, but I have no doubt that I would become the Wicked Stepmother of Xavier's School.

I can't wait to talk to Jean.

The Inauguration was a disaster. For all of the Brotherhood's so-called ideals, apparently with the death of Magneto they've lost a goodly portion of their brains to attack at a time such as that.

There was something, though. I don't think it was entirely stupid of them, given some of the vague impressions I picked up. Something that suggested an underlying goal other than panic and mayhem.

President Hatcher was wearing a teledistort earpiece. I wonder if Jean saw that? His paranoia, justified though it may be, is exasperating to say the least.

Jean. Lovely. Yet another X-Man whose memories of me include all manner of villainy, and in whom Scott trusts implicitly. I still have to speak with him about sharing the workload of running the school. Damn Henry for his sound advice.

All in all, casualties were minimal, the media reacted as expected, and the President still wants our hides. We returned to hear that MAMA staged a protest outside our gates, upsetting and frightening the students and their families.

Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?

Ian is doing well with his shielding, though I've heard from Bobby that he's being tempted. Must speak with him about it, and perhaps allow it in small doses if he can tell me with confidence that he can handle it.

Selene is doing well also. She's a pleasure to work with; grounding and centering seems natural for her, and her practice is going well enough that she may get her own room soon. We'll see how her shields hold this week, and I'll decide then.

Must make an attempt to be social.

Lots of changes around the Mansion these days, and very little of it good.

We've lost Betsy, Logan, Kurt, Remy, and Peter to other pressing issues. I have no doubt that some will return eventually, when their alcohol or charm runs out and they need a safe haven. This place has been that haven time and again, thanks to Scott. The more fools they, who take him for granted.

In exchange, he sent for Ororo. Lovely. I bring him young Wing, and he brings us yet another mind with whom I've had intimate acquaintance. I anticipate arched backs and hissed insults for at least a few weeks until she accepts that I won't turn and stab them all in the back.

Rogue has returned as well; I know that fragmented mind all too well. I'm sure Wing will have his adolescent dreams full once he sees the two flyers from whom he's supposed to learn.

Young Luke has left as well, which leaves me at loose ends student-wise. I should tell Ian how lucky he is to have my full attention. The boy is doing better, at least. Grounding and centering has calmed his panicked mind down, and squeezed a bit of grudging gratitude out of the contempt that oozes from his mental pores.

I must remind myself again why I love teaching...Kate. Samantha. My girls.

Scott was hung over on Monday. I could feel his pain from across the Mansion as his fellow X-Men tried to comfort him. Sinking ships...why can't he see that there's another who can spell him at the wheel?

Now I need a drink.

Something's bothering him, and it doesn't take a genius to figure that it has something to do with Bobby (who still hasn't thanked me now that he's coherent).

He's an infuriating man with moments of clarity and compassion.

Henry offered some insights, and sympathy that I didn't expect from anyone in this mansion. That plus his horrible shirt helped to lift my spirits as the year drew to a close.

At least the kiss was initiated by both of us when the clock struck midnight.

The man is blind.

Cerebra.

To try to describe the sensation would cheapen it. Maybe I'll take some extra time finding Wing tomorrow.