But Zephyr smiled warmly at him and motioned him in. Relieved, Connor entered and squeezed into the chair next to Zephyr's desk. He noticed that Zephyr had already finished an entire cup of coffee; a very good sign.

"How are you?" Zephyr asked.

"Good, good thanks. How are you?"

"Mnph. Today's going to be pretty jam-packed. First we have a meeting, and then you, me, Marsh, Oscar, and Shauna are all going to that Catholic school to evaluate what needs to be done. I don't know how long that's going to take, but I wouldn't be surprised if that's the entire day right there. If not, if we can squeeze it in, I'd like to go to the Brandes residence and install a rail or two."

Connor nodded. "I can stay late if you need me to. My class doesn't start till 7:30."

"No date with the ol' girlfriend this week?" Zephyr asked. "How are things going, if it's okay for me to ask?"

"Yeah, it's okay. I don't mind. I just don't know exactly what to say about her." Connor paused. He wasn't sure how much Zephyr wanted to hear, but something in him ached to let it all out. "Hey, um, if someone came out and told you she wanted to kill herself, what would you say?" Okay, that might have been a little too direct, but it was too late to take it back now.

Zephyr gave him a look of cynical astonishment. "What would I say? I don't know. Good luck, I guess. Or is bad luck more appropriate?"

Connor snickered in spite of himself. It wasn't funny, it really wasn't... but he couldn't help it.

Zephyr continued. "Oh, you know what I'd do: I'd tell them to fill out an organ donor card first. And donate blood."

"Really?"

"Yah, sure! What's the point of wasting a perfectly good body when there are so many people desperate to get a piece of it? But they'd have to kill themselves in a way that doesn't harm the harvestable organs. No ODing. Gunshot to the head, maybe... but watch out for the corneas. Those are valuable."

"God, that's horrible!" Connor laughed.

"So's killing yourself!" Zephyr countered. "What's wrong with encouraging them to do one last little act of kindness before they go?"

Connor couldn't understand why he found this so funny; maybe it was the deadpan, overly sincere tone Zephyr was using. "Would you actually say that?"

"Hell yeah!" Zephyr said. "Well, it depends. I'd say it if they weren't planning on doing it right then. If they were waving a gun around, I wouldn't. I probably wouldn't say anything. I'd just leave."

"You wouldn't try to help them?"

"Help them how? Wrestle the gun out of their hands? My survival instinct is too strong. I have this tendency to go elsewhere when there are deadly weapons present."

"You'd just leave," Connor pondered that. "Geez."

"Not many people are valuable enough to make me put my own life up for collateral. It'd have to be somebody really, really special. How much investment did you put into this relationship?"

"Um... a year and three months."

Zephyr shook his head somberly. "A drop in the bucket, man."

"You think I should just break up with her? And walk away?"

"My opinion doesn't matter, Connor. It's your life and your decision. But, yeah, I think looking out for number one is the best thing you could do. If you don't, who will? The girl ain't gonna."

Connor shrugged. "I guess not. She wants me to look out for her. I'm trying, but it's hard. Last night I told her to go get some help, and she blew up at me, like I'd just called her... uh..."

"Fat?" Zephyr suggested.

Connor smirked. "Much worse than that. Besides, she's like a third my size. She'd only get insulted if I called her fat because it'd be such a pathetic attempt to insult her."

"Oh," Zephyr said as he glanced at the clock, "just about time for that meeting to start. Bring something to take notes on. I need to go get Reg and I'll meet you in the conference room."

Connor leaped to his feet. "I can get Reg," he offered.

"Sure, if you want," Zephyr said, and when he didn't show signs of getting out of his chair, Connor left. He swung by his carrel to pick up his notebook and then took the stairs down to the workroom (the tail end of the conversation with Zephyr reminded him of his resolution to use the stairs more). Reg was at the computer in the back, plotting something out in AutoCAD.

Connor came up behind him. "Good morning, Reg," he said and touched Reg gently on the right arm to avoid startling him. Reg reached over with his left hand and grabbed Connor's hand firmly for a brief moment, and then returned to his task without any other signs of being aware of Connor's presence. Connor tried again. "Hey, uh, Reg, we have to go to a meeting upstairs. Come on, let's go. Upstairs."

Reg pulled away from him and grabbed the speech board. He ran the stylus over the screen. "Plot modification," the device's thin voice said. Reg chose another word. "Wait."

"We can't wait very long," Connor replied. "The meeting starts very soon. Five minutes."

"Okay," Reg chose. He turned back to the computer and sent his drawing to print. A moment later, the new plotter behind Connor started to screech and scrape. Reg stood up and squeezed past Connor and stood over it, watching intently as the 35" roll of paper spit out its drawing. Connor joined him and watched over his shoulder. Reg looked extremely tall from a distance, but up close like this Connor was always amazed at how small and fragile Reg seemed. He was still only a couple inches taller than Reg, and he was certainly very used to dwarfing people, but he still found it a little bit unexpected. Zephyr had once mentioned in passing that Reg was a lot stronger than he looked; Connor wondered about that.

He wondered which one of them was the dominant one... or if they were equals somehow. He wasn't sure how that sort of thing worked between two men. His own relationship with Lauralynn - and the one before that with Ashley - didn't give him enough experience to know how to tell. He had fallen naturally into the dominant role with both girls.

The plotter finished printing and with a loud slice of the internal blade it cut the blueprint free. Reg deftly rolled it up, slipped around Connor, and spread it out over the nearby workbench. He tucked one edge under a metal rod attached along the edge of the table surface to prevent it from recurling. Then he leaned over it and studied this part and that part. Connor waited. Reg perused the printout intently, and then he abruptly turned away from it, fetched his speech board, and before Connor knew what was happening Reg was headed to the stairwell. He hurried to catch up with him.

They weren't late. Mariluz had a bowl of chocolate kisses; Connor took a couple and sat at the far end of the conference table. Reg sat next to Zephyr and put the speech board on the table in front of him, and Connor thought he saw Zephyr give Reg an inexplicably cold glance. Oh well, it wasn't any of his business. He unwrapped a chocolate, popped it in his mouth, and opened his notebook to the first blank page.