The Law of Averages

Dan stared at his laptop screen in utter bewilderment. Before him lay a bog standard real estate website, filled with listings and locations and prices. It might as well have been written in hieroglyphs. Dan was hilariously out of his depth shopping for a home, having lived with his parents, followed by his college dormitories, followed by an apartment chosen entirely for its close proximity to his workplace. Dan had not the slightest inkling on how to buy a house.

This was a pressing issue, as he had recently decided that living out of a hotel room was both extravagant and idiotic. An apartment was a possibility, should his current plan fell, but Dan was tired of living on someone else's property. He needed a home; a place that was his. He'd never had something like that before. Not exclusively, at least. Even the modest house of his birth had not been Dan's so much as his parents'.

Beyond that, it felt almost symbolic to Dan. It signified his acceptance of his new circumstances, an acknowledgment that this was his new reality. Dan would not necessarily refuse a visit back to his old dimension, but he'd no longer take a one-way trip. He had new ties in the here and now, and it was time that his living circumstances reflected that truth.

Brunswick, Georgia was his first choice, somewhere close to Abby, but looking now at these distant homes and unrecognizable streets, Dan realized, once again, that he was an idiot. It didn't matter in the slightest where he lived. He could be home at the speed of thought. His house could be on top of the Himalayas, and it would take him precisely the same amount of effort to get there as to blink his eyes.

While this astonishing revelation opened his options in some ways, it vastly narrowed them in others. Dan had very few friends, and all save one were located in Austin. He attended classes in Austin, and was actively attempting to create a social presence in Austin. Visiting whatever future friends he made was one thing, he could do that effortlessly with his power, but he wanted to have visitors himself. Some of Dan's fondest memories involved squeezing ten people together into a tiny college dorm room, to play video games or board games or just shoot the shit. He missed that kind of social interaction, though, the cramped living space, not so much.

In short, though Dan could have a home anywhere in the world, realistically speaking, he was staying where he was. It was a shame that Abby would not be able to visit him as easily as he visited her, but she was his best friend, and thus he'd be spending time at her house anyway. There was no danger of their friendship failing because of the distance, while there was a very real chance that Dan might become disconnected with Margaret or (Dan shuddered) Gregoir, or...

Or Graham, Dan supposed.

He really needed to make some more friends.

Pushing that depressing thought out of his mind, Dan navigated to local real estate listings. He browsed through them for a time, before realizing once more that he had no idea what he was doing. This was just as much of a problem as it was ten minutes ago, when he was looking at Georgia properties.

Dan stared at his laptop screen, considering his options, then pulled out his cell phone and made a call.

"This is so exciting!" Abby squealed, energetically bouncing in place. Her long hair was pulled into a high ponytail and secured by a sunshine yellow scrunchy. She wore a striped black and white top that sat low around her shoulders and high around her waist, tight jean shorts, and comfy athletic shoes. The long expanse of creamy skin from her ankles to mid-thigh was incredibly distracting.

"You know, Abby, when I asked for your help I expected you'd recommend me a realtor or something," Dan stated with a gulp, tearing his eyes away from the hypnotic sight.

Abby beamed at him. "No way! The last time I traveled out of state for fun was over a year ago! I'm not gonna miss this excuse to visit you!"

"We see each other daily," Dan replied fondly, returning her smile with a goofy grin of his own.

The pair were outside a private air field on the borders of Austin. Abby, in true rich heiress style, had decided that Dan's simply request for help warranted a personal trip, and had arrived by private jet just minutes earlier. A large black SUV was parked outside the hangar; a rental from a 'trusted' associate of Abby's family. Its windows were tinted black and, presumably, completely bulletproof.

"It's standard fare for my family," Abby explained cheerfully, as she climbed into the driver's seat.

Dan took the passenger side, nodding along with her words. As they pulled out of the hangar, he subtly hinted at something that had been bothering him all week. "I imagine that your grandmother would allow nothing less." He paused for a moment, then decided subtlety was overrated. "Has she... mentioned anything to you? About me? Or other things?"

Abby rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "I didn't tell her who found the collar, Danny."

"Yeah, but she could totally find out," Dan pointed out nervously. "It wouldn't even be hard. You told her it was from the Burn near Red Creek Ranch, and even if you hadn't, parts of the fucking thing are still hot which is the defining feature of the Burn! And who were the last people to visit Red Creek? My police academy class!"

His babble was cut off by a gentle hand resting on his arm.

"Calm down," Abby soothed, keeping her eyes on the road. "Grandma isn't gonna send a hit squad after you or something crazy like that. She likes you! And even if she doesn't," Abby turned to face him, her eyes meeting his, "I like you."—She paused, and Dan's stomach did several backflips—"And that's good enough for her."

"Kay," Dan subsided, scratching at his cheek to hide his growing smile. He kept his eyes forward, staring at the passing buildings. The day seemed brighter suddenly, despite the cloudy weather.

Abby's hand left his arm, flipping on the air conditioner. She fanned herself with her shirt briefly, and Dan strenuously avoided looking in her direction. The pair played awkward eye tag for several more minutes, avoiding conversation in favor of furtive looks and shy smiles.

It was only after Abby pulled onto the highway that Dan thought to ask, "Do you know where you're going?"

"Yup!" Abby nodded, grasping the conversation thread with both hands. "Aunt Maggie has worked at that hotel for as long as I can remember. I visited a couple times, back in my teens, and I remember the way well enough." She shrugged. "The hotel was okay, I guess. I bet a lot has changed, though."

Dan personally suspected that nothing had changed at all. The Pearson was solidly stuck in the late 1800's, and from what Margaret had told him, that had always been the case. It was the predictable result of an owner with a Wild West obsession and far too much money on his hands.

Wisely, he chose to keep his trap shut. Nod and smile, Daniel, that is the path to happiness.

Abby quickly proved herself a bold driver, weaving through Austin's horrific traffic with all the confidence and speed of a rally car racer. Dan spent most of the drive anxiously glued to his seat, pondering how to save both of their lives in the event of a crash. Fortunately, his various half-baked plans were completely unnecessary, as they arrived at the Pearson frazzled but intact. Abby pulled onto the curbside parking, gracefully coming to a stop.

"Whaw!" Abby exhaled with a trill. "I forgot how fun it is to drive a big car! Everyone gets out of the way so fast!"

Somewhere in Brunswick, Abby's tiny two-seat hybrid cried itself to sleep.

Dan smiled weakly, deciding to ignore the distressing experience that his closest friend had just subjected him to. Learning how to teleport others had just jumped to the very top of his to-do list. He extended a shaky hand towards the Pearson's front doors.

"Welcome to the Pearson, my lady," he announced, quietly proud that he'd gotten the words out without a stutter. "May I give you a tour of the lobby? We've got some wonderful antiques for your viewing pleasure."

Abby giggled into her hand, turning off the engine and stepping outside. She rested her elbow on the open door, while placing her other hand on the roof. Abby leaned forward, over the driver's seat, giving Dan a flushed smile.

"I'm sure it's a lovely lobby," she replied coyly, clearly not oblivious to the effect her appearance had on him, "but I'm more interested in seeing your room right now, Danny."

Dan took approximately four seconds to process her sentence, having expected nothing like that to leave her mouth. There were just too many different factors to consider. Did she mean to say that? Did she know what she was implying? Was she flirting? Should he flirt back? What should he do!?

Dan pushed back the gnawing terror and decided to just roll with whatever happened. That seemed to be his specialty, after all. Decision made, he grinned wildly, before teleporting out of his seat and reappearing beside her. Doing his level best to keep his voice steady, he said, "I think I can help with that." He stuck out his elbow dramatically, wiggling it for effect.

Abby slipped her arm through his, blushing bright red as he lead her through the front door. Her bubbly demeanor deepened into something more intense, more primal, upon the physical contact. She invested the totality of her emotions into everything that she did, and this was no different. The pleasant tingling throughout her body overrode all sense of reason.

They both moved in sync, pressed close against each other as they ambled towards the elevator. There was something unspoken hovering between them, an energy that clouded Dan's mind. He was stumbling through fog, drunk on a hormone cocktail; his brain was filled with nothing but the pounding drumbeat of his heart.

"Newman!"

The hated voice pierced through his clouded senses, searing away his happy feelings like a nuclear strike. Dan almost tripped mid-step, but continued onward, determined to ignore the man. Abby paused for a microsecond, before following Dan's lead, both of them increasing their pace before—

"Newman! Is that you?"

—that infernal voice called again! Dan ground his molars down to the root, his jaw cracked, almost shattered, as Connor fucking Graham approached at a slow jog from behind him. Abby stiffened at his side, slowly turning her head to meet this new threat, wearing the smile of a serial killer.

Graham came within view, almost flinching back at Abby's expression. He blinked in confusion, glancing between Daniel and his unknown acquaintance. The young man's keen investigative senses told him that his presence was unwanted.

"Ah, it is you." he said slowly, monitoring Abby's clenched fists with what seemed to be genuine concern. "Apologies, Newman. I was in the area, and thought I'd stop by for a chat..."

Abby's smile graduated from "I am going to fucking murder you!" to "I am going to fucking murder you and wear your entrails like a hat!"

Something in her expression reached Graham. "But I see that I'm interrupting something," he acknowledged quickly. The backpedal was accompanied by a confused frown towards Abby. Manners clashed with survival instincts, and emerged victorious. "Apologies, young miss. My name is Connor Graham, an associate of Newman here." He nodded to Dan. "Have we met before? Your appearance seems familiar to me. Forgive me, if I have forgotten a previous interaction."

Abby appeared to be seriously considering disemboweling the boy, but eventually her own upbringing won out. She composed herself long enough to give Graham a graceful nod, and her voice took a formal tilt. "My name is Abigail Summers, Mr. Graham, and we have never met before. It's... delightful to make your acquaintance."

Graham nodded thoughtfully, turning to Dan with an apology on his tongue. Abby's words registered after the fact, and Graham grew still as a statue. His head jerked back to Abby, cautiously examining her features, before returning to Dan.

"Newman," Graham said, his voice controlled and pleasant. "A word, please."

Dan considered how many different ways he could tell the boy to fuck off, but Abby broke that chain of thought.

"Go ahead, Danny," she said with a sigh, the (moderately) sober part of her noticing Graham's recognition. "It's fine. Talk with your friend."

Graham twitched at her affectionate nickname. "Excellent. Excellent. Excellent." The younger man's mouth clicked shut, ending the babble. His face twisted through several expressions, before settling back on placid courtesy.

"Over here, please," he requested, walking stiffly towards the emergency stairs.

Abby gave Dan's chest an affectionate pat, as he reluctantly left her side. He ambled towards the stairwell, visualizing how satisfying it would be to break Graham's nose. As soon as he entered the enclosed space, Graham grabbed him around both shoulders and pushed him to the side. The door shut with a clang, and Graham's wide eyes met Dan's.

"Do you know who that is!?" he hissed, for some reason attempting to hold a private conversation in an echoey concrete enclosure.

Dan's libido screamed at the idiotic question. He'd been called away for this!? "Abby Summers. She literally just told you that."

Graham's eyes bulged out of his face and he seemed to vibrate in place. "I heard! How is it that you know her!?"

"Met her at a seafood restaurant," Dan replied with a shrug, taking extreme enjoyment from Graham's bewildered expression. It almost cooled the pit of hellfire burning in his stomach. "How is it that you know of her?" Abby kept a fairly low profile as far as he knew. There were pictures of her, floating around on the internet, but very little drama surrounding the low-key heiress. How much of that disinterest was a result of her grandmother's meddling, Dan had no idea.

"She's the spitting image of Anastasia Summers!" Graham exclaimed, shaking Dan by the shoulders. "The co-founder of Summerset Technologies and a special forces legend!"

"That would be her grandmother," Dan agreed with a nod. He paused, running Graham's hysterical statement through his head once more. "Special forces legend?" Dan repeated in bemusement. "Isn't that an oxymoron? Kinda like saying a well known spy."

"Silence, you buffoon!" Graham snapped in outrage. "She is incredibly respected by those people in the know, and you'd be wise not to mock that!" He paused, then gasped. "Did you say granddaughter? Were you about to fornicate with Anastasia Summers's granddaughter!? Newman! Have you no sense of self-preservation!?!"

"I wasn't— We weren't— Fornicating!" Dan stuttered, his voice cracking.

"Don't be an idiot, Newman, I know what two people about to fornicate look like!" They both paused, considering the implications of that sentence. Dan snickered to himself, while Graham flushed slightly.

"Mrs. Summers knows about me," Dan informed him, stifling his laughter. "We met in person not too long ago, and I have it under good authority that I wouldn't still be here if she had a problem with my existence."

"She knows that you are dating her granddaughter?" Graham clarified incredulously.

"Well, no," Dan trailed off, sobering quickly. "We haven't actually, um. Dated. At all." His brow crinkled. "I should... I should really change that."

Graham's expression made it clear that his opinion of Dan was falling by the second.

"Look," Dan said, suddenly feeling defensive, "it's not like we don't know each other! She's been my personal trainer for months! And there's, y'know, flirting and stuff. We just— We dance around the issue."

"Abigail Summers, granddaughter of Anastasia Summers," Graham stated slowly, "is the woman who has been training you for the past six months?"

Dan shrugged again. It hadn't been exactly that long, but it was close enough to the truth. Graham stared at him for a long minute, his eyes blank. Dan suspected that he'd shattered the lad's worldview a bit. Good.

The younger man snapped out of his haze with admirable speed. He gave Dan a considering look, scanning him from head to toe. He wore the expression of someone who had stepped in something unpleasant, only to discover that it was an untapped oil well. He looped an arm around Dan's shoulders and proclaimed, "I think that you should call me Connor, Newman. I think that the two of us are going to be great friends."

"I think that you are the most pompous asshole that I know," Dan replied shortly.

"Nonsense," Graham waved off the insult with confident ease. He leaned forward conspiratorially. "With my advice, you might actually land that elegant lady waiting for you outside. No doubt you'd mess it up somehow, if left to your own devices."

"I was doing just fine before you interrupted," Dan protested, pushing Graham away from himself. "And what would you know about it, anyway?"

Graham gave him an incredulous look. "I have a fiancée, Newman. You can't pick up one of those at a seafood restaurant."

Dan's face could not get more pinched. He threw up his hands in exasperation, having been down this path before. Graham was going to give his opinion, solicited or not. The only path to escape would be to literally teleport away. Dan didn't mind the rudeness of that action, but he couldn't slip the feeling that the young man might actually have something substantial to offer.

"Fine! Advise away, Sergeant Seduction!"

"Firstly, you need to talk to the poor girl," Graham complied immediately. "Preferably while you aren't all," he waved a hand at Dan, "worked up. Honest conversation is the foundation of a healthy relationship. Don't just try to bed her like some sort of juvenile!"

Dan blinked in astonishment. That actually sounded like decent advice. A bit fortune cookie, but not bad at all.

"Secondly, try to find an activity for your first date. Dinner and a movie is a cheap cliché, and doesn't impress anyone," Graham continued in hurried fashion. "For our first date, I took Freya to a local gun range, followed by a visit to a rock climbing gym. Obviously your taste may vary, but the general idea is something physical, with plenty of opportunities for, erm,"—He clicked his tongue and bobbed his head—"contact."

Dan briefly considered writing this down, much to his own astonishment.

"Thirdly, keep your focus on her. Do not allow distractions," Graham insisted, clapping both hands on Dan's shoulders. "Which means: get back out there you donkey! You're making the lady wait!" Dan's eye twitched as Graham dragged him towards the door. "Go go go! Speak to her like a proper gentleman!"

They reached the door, but Graham pulled Dan back at the last moment, whispering into his ear, "Ah, and if you do manage to become a couple, perhaps you could arrange a meeting between me and the Elder Summers? A good word from her would do wonders for my career, you know?"

Dan sighed heavily. Graham had been doing so well, too. He had been downright altruistic for a moment, there. He'd almost forgotten why he found the younger man so infuriating.

"I'll think about it," Dan lied, brushing a hand against Graham's shirt. "Catch you later, Connor." An exertion of will sent Dan's veil burrowing through Graham's clothing, He dropped into the void, dragging his companion's pant's zipper along for the ride.

He popped back into reality at Abby's side, eliciting a happy smile from her.

"Welcome back," she chirped, whatever melancholy she might have felt from his absence fading in an instant. "Everything okay with your friend?"

"Don't mind him," Dan dismissed with an airy wave. "I think he's a fan of your grandmother." He smiled at her, eyes flicking down to her hand. He briefly considered reaching for it, but the choice was taken from him as Abby looped her arm through his once more.

"So~," she drawled, drawing out the word and leaning into him slightly, "where were we, again?"

That brought Dan to a pause, remembering the advice that Graham had given him. Abby meant the world to him, and Dan's history with the opposite sex was uninspiring at best. He hadn't mistreated his ex-girlfriend, exactly, but the fact that this was the first time he'd thought of her since his arrival in this dimension was telling. He just... wasn't very good at connecting with people, emotionally. Not on the intimate level that that sort of relationship required.

But he was already there with Abby. And he desperately did not want to fuck it up. Still, continuing this vague dance, alluring as it might be, would get him nowhere in the end.

Nothing worth doing is without risk, Marcus had once told him. The old man had been referring to combat training, but Dan felt comfortable applying it to this situation as well. He hadn't gotten this far by being a coward, and he was smart enough to recognize good advice when he heard it.

All he had to do was sack up.

"Hey Abs," he said slowly, meeting her curious gaze with a fond smile, "I think we should talk."