Chapter 25: Fiona's Choice
Fiona appeared at midnight without warning.
Ben was cataloging the day's implications—Ian's trauma, the new reputation, Marcus's partnership, the weight of being Lucky Ben—when she knocked. Three sharp raps that somehow conveyed urgency and uncertainty in equal measure.
He opened the door to find her standing in the February cold, no coat, just a sweater and jeans, breath misting in the air. Her expression was complicated—determined and vulnerable, like she'd made a decision that terrified her.
"Can we talk?" she asked.
"Yeah. Come in."
She entered, arms wrapped around herself against the cold. Ben grabbed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She pulled it tight without acknowledgment, walking to the center of his workspace like she was gathering courage.
"I've been with Steve for three months," she said without preamble. "And I don't trust him."
Ben stayed silent, letting her work through whatever she needed to say.
"He's exciting. Generous. Makes me feel like there's more to life than just surviving day to day." Fiona's hands clenched in the jacket's fabric. "But something's wrong underneath. I can feel it. The cars that change weekly, the money he flashes around, the way he dodges questions about his family. All of it screams liar."
"Why are you telling me this?" Ben asked carefully.
"Because you're different." She looked at him directly. "You showed up out of nowhere, helped without asking for anything, integrated into my family's chaos like you'd always been there. You fixed our washing machine, gave Ian advice, taught Carl without judging him, helped Debbie with her schemes. You saved my brother's life yesterday."
"Fiona—"
"Let me finish." Her voice was shaking slightly. "Ian almost died yesterday. I got the call from Lip, and for two minutes I didn't know if my baby brother was alive or dead. Two minutes that felt like drowning. And when I found out he was okay, that you'd been there at exactly the right moment again, I realized something."
She stepped closer. Close enough that Ben could see the exhaustion in her eyes, the way she held herself together through sheer willpower.
"I've been choosing wrong," she said. "Choosing the guy who's fun and exciting over the guy who actually shows up. The one who makes grand gestures over the one who does small, meaningful things every day. And I'm tired of choosing wrong."
The garage felt smaller suddenly. Warmer despite the February cold seeping through the walls. Ben's heart hammered against his ribs.
"What do you want from me?" Fiona asked. "Really. Not the helpful neighbor routine, not the mysterious past deflection. What do you actually want?"
Ben's Silver Tongue stirred, offering perfect responses, calibrated words that would guarantee the outcome he desired. He forced the power down with physical effort, choosing honesty over manipulation.
"I want you to choose me because you want to," he said. "Not because I convinced you. Not because Steve's a liar or because I saved Ian or because I've been helpful. Just because you want to."
Fiona stared at him like he'd said something she'd never heard before. "That's it? You're not going to tell me all the reasons I should pick you? Sell yourself?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because if I have to convince you, it doesn't count."
Something shifted in her expression—walls crumbling, defenses dropping. She closed the distance between them in two steps.
"That's the most honest thing anyone's said to me in years," she said.
Then she kissed him.
Not brief. Not grateful. Searching, questioning, deciding. Her hands found his face, holding him like she was afraid he'd disappear. Ben's carefully maintained control shattered. He kissed her back with all the pent-up longing of knowing her story, memorizing her struggles, wanting to be her stability when everything else was chaos.
When they broke apart, both breathing hard, Fiona rested her forehead against his.
"I need to end things with Steve first," she said. "Properly. Not just disappear or ghost him. He deserves a real conversation."
Ben nodded, understanding that she was choosing integrity even when it was harder. "Okay."
"Can you wait? Just a few days while I handle this?"
Ben almost laughed. He'd been waiting since the moment he arrived in this universe, through nine seasons' worth of memorized longing. A few more days was nothing.
"Yeah," he said. "I can wait."
Fiona kissed him again—softer this time, gentler. A promise rather than a question. Then she pulled back, reluctance evident in every movement.
"I should go. Before I change my mind about leaving."
"Be careful."
"Always am." She reached the door, paused, looked back. "Thank you. For not trying to convince me. For letting it be my choice."
"It should always be your choice."
She left, disappearing into February darkness. Ben stood in his garage doorway and watched until she turned the corner, heading back to a house full of siblings who needed her.
"She chose me. Not because I manipulated her, not because I eliminated Steve, but because she wanted to. That has to mean something."
Ben allowed himself exactly thirty seconds of optimism before reality reasserted itself.
His Danger Intuition pulsed unexpectedly.
He turned, scanning the street, and saw Steve's car parked across from the garage. Engine off. Lights off. Just sitting there in the darkness.
Steve sat behind the wheel, watching.
Their eyes met across the distance. Even through the darkness and the space between them, Ben could read Steve's expression: realization, calculation, threat.
He saw Fiona leave. Knows what it means. And he's not going to let it go quietly.
Steve started the engine. Pulled away slowly, deliberately. Not fleeing—making a statement. Showing Ben that he knew, that he'd seen, that this wasn't over.
Ben's Danger Intuition screamed warnings that had nothing to do with physical violence and everything to do with Steve's capacity for chaos when his con was threatened.
He pulled out his phone and texted Fiona: Steve was outside. Be careful.
Her response came immediately: Always am.
Ben locked the garage and went inside, feeling the weight of new complications settling over him. Fiona had chosen him, but Steve wouldn't accept that gracefully. Car thieves who ran elaborate cons didn't just walk away when their marks rejected them.
"One good thing. Just one genuine good thing. And it comes with immediate consequences because that's how this world works."
His phone buzzed. News alert from a local station: Pawn shop robbery in Gary, Indiana. Owner reports all merchandise stolen, claims items had "mysteriously transformed" into worthless materials before theft.
Ben's stomach dropped.
The gold scam. The jewelry he'd created with illusion power. The reversions had been discovered, and now someone was investigating.
The optimism from Fiona's kiss died completely, replaced by cold dread.
He'd bought temporary stability through fraud, and now the bill was coming due.
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