This wasn't a date.

It might have been February 14, and it might have been the night that a record number of couples flooded the streets of just about every town known to man to proclaim their undying love for each other and to attend extravagant, ridiculously expensive dates, Steve Jason was not in Virginia Beach for dates.

Steve hadn't appeared on Saturday Impact himself, but he had been backstage- he had business to conduct with certain members of that roster, and as a result he figured it was easier to go to Virginia itself and to conduct business there. It was this business that he had hoped to settle now, as he came off one of the main roads on his white and blue sportsbike, helmet clenched tight over his head as he drifted down a ramp towards the parking lot of the restaurant he was heading for.

This restaurant had been built literally on the beach itself- the large, opulent u-shaped structure, shaped like a compound rather than an actual building, rose up out of the white sands of the beach and seemed to point out over the ocean itself in a unique touch. The parking lot was reasonably well-packed, but there were still a fair number of free lots, and as a result it wasn't long before Steve was cruising into the lot, bringing his bike to a halt and pulling off his helmet.

"That has to be the first time I've seen somebody ride a motorcycle in a suit." Chloe O'Brien remarked archly from where she stood in the parking spot next to Steve, noting the tan suit jacket and pants he wore over a black mockneck shirt. He wasn't the only one dressed to impress, however; Chloe wore an off-the-shoulder aquamarine dress that looked like it might have cost a bomb, and her silky brown hair was pinned back. Steve laughed quietly at that, then slung himself off the bike.

"Couldn't be bothered getting changed here, and I'm good enough not to get any dirt on me. You haven't been waiting too long, I hope?"

"About twenty minutes or so." Chloe shrugged, "No big deal, though. I think all of the others have shown up, so it's just you and me they're waiting on."

"Why wait outside then?" Steve raised an eyebrow in curiosity, "I imagine it'd be a damn sight warmer inside."

"Well, Rhiannon and John are paired up, and Dougy and Sergei at least know each other well. I hate being the third wheel, so..." She shrugged again, "I figured I'd wait for you."

"Oh. Uh, OK then. You didn't have to though. I mean, it's not like we're on a date or anything right?"

"Oh, no no no no!" Chloe shook her head at that, holding her hands up, "After all, Dougy and Sergei are there. So it's not a date. This is definitely not a date."

"No, not at all." Steve was more than a little surprised at the reaction, but nevertheless agreed with her amiably, "It's more of a council of war than a date. It's most definitely not a date between you and me. Not at all. Not a date."

"Well, I suppose it's a date between John and Rhiannon. But not us."

"Uh... no, not us." There was a long stretch of awkward silence at the downright unusual discussion that had just taken place between them before Steve finally broke it, "So, shall we go then?"

The restaurant itself was, as both Steve's and Chloe's attire had suggested, quite an up-market place. Well, it was Valentine's Day, and the place itself was in a picturesque location, so it really shouldn't have come as much of a surprise to see a black-tie formal setting throughout most of the restaurant. As the exterior had suggested, there wasn't really much of an 'indoor' part of the restaurant so much as it was an outdoor restaurant with a fairly large shaded area to keep the elements off. To keep the place warm, a number of electric fires were strategically placed around the area, enhanced by island-style flaming torches set up throughout the area. The platform on which the restaurant was set stretched out towards the ocean on the far end, and not surprisingly, it was at this end that the large round table that would serve as the meeting point for Steve and his allies was located.

"See anybody?" Steve asked, sidestepping a pair of well-dressed waiters as he navigated his way through the tables.

"I see Dougy. He's pretty hard to miss..." Sure enough, the bright white ten-gallon hat stood out miles away. Looked like Steve's best friend had opted to go for the Southern Colonel look that he seemed to adopt so much when he went to formal places. Sure enough, on his left was the shaved head of Sergei Volkov, the Russian-American decked out in a black long-sleeved shirt and slacks. To Dougy's right were the big 'couple' of the group, none other than one John R. Dequindre, in white long-sleeved shirt and black vest, and one Rhiannon Ramsay, in a shimmering silver number. Steve nodded in affirmation, then made his way over to the table.

"Alright, boys and girls, we're here."

"What took you, man?" John asked, motioning towards a number of stacked plates in the center of the table, "Entrees are already here. If you took much longer, you'd be missing out on the mains."

"Some of us have jobs, John..." Steve muttered dryly before sinking down into his chair.

"So? Rhiannon was wrestling tonight, that didn't stop her coming down..." John smirked, motioning to Rhiannon, who punched his shoulder lightly.

"Leave him alone, John..." she defended Steve, flashing her eyes to Steve himself and launching a stunning smile. Steve just responded with a smirk, then pulled back a chair and dropped in on the left side of Sergei, with Chloe sitting to his own left. As they all assembled, Dougy spoke, raising a wine-glass filled with what appeared to be rum.

"Alright, so, I'm the chairman for this little shindig tonight, being that I'm the only one who's crazy enough not to have an opinion. But you know me, I don't really give a crap about political correctness, so I doubt I'm going to do much moderating. I'm sure we all know each other- my name is Douglas Henry Phidippidies McNamara III, the Dance Commander. We've also got one Steve Jason, the lovely Chloe O'Brien, one Sergeant John R. Dequindre, and Rhiannon "Absolute Fox" Ramsay."

"Is he... always like this?" Rhiannon asked, motioning to Dougy.

"More or less."

"And everybody, this is Sergei Volkov, my gay lover..." Dougy grinned impudently, draping an arm around Sergei's shoulders only to find his wrist seized in a vicelike grip.

"Don't be an idiot." were Sergei's only gruff words, firmly placing Dougy's arm back on the table. Dougy merely smirked at that, then continued to speak up.

"So, we all know why we're here. The lovebirds are going to eat dinner, Sergei, SJ and Chloe'll do their single people thing, and I'm going to drink a crapload of rum. But in addition to that, we've got certain matters to discuss among us. We've got a couple of issues we need to take care of, and I think we might as well start with the small stuff. SJ's finally in a position to give Chad a colonoscopy with his boot, as I'm sure you all know."

Of course Steve knew that. Ever since he'd seen the slated handicap match, it had been on his mind. On one side, Steve was facing some... rather tough odds. But on the other side, he finally managed to get his talons on a man who had jumped him, and another man who had been quite possibly the biggest nuisance in Steve Jason's career. After god knew how many years of shit-talking, Chad was finally going to have to put his money where his mouth was. And just the opportunity, no matter how difficult it was going to be, to finally close that rodent's mouth with his fist was enough to have Steve looking very forward to Anarchy.

"Why oh why am I not surprised this would come up..." Sergei remarked.

"Now, long story short, SJ, some of your friends are a little concerned at the fact Centurion's been barred. We've all seen what happens when your friends get isolated from you, and it usually involves something rather nasty being done to you. We're thinking that if you can't get Centurion in there, maybe you should invest in... I dunno, a hire-a-manager or something."

"You're not serious." Steve said flatly.

"I don't like it myself, Steve..." Chloe spread her hands, "but we're concerned you're going to be in a lot of danger. We don't want to see Famine and Chad do something drastic that could seriously injure you. If you have someone in your corner..."

"...then that somebody's a prime target. We know Famine. We've seen him kidnap and hurt people before. I'm not exposing any of my people to that kind of danger. The answer's no. I'll do it alone. Believe me, it's going to take more than Famine and Chad to put me out of commission."

"Is that your last word on the subject? Cause I can help..." Sergei suggested.

"That's my last word." Steve confirmed.

"Right. That'd bring us to order two then- and the main one. The search. SJ?"

Well, this was it. Looking around him now, Steve could see every current member of his 'inner circle' looking right at him, waiting to hear what he had to say. This group of people had all agreed, in some way, shape or form, to help Steve in his quest to find his twins and bring them home. Everyone from Chloe- Steve's arguable right hand, close confidant and friend, all the way down to his cousin John, his Russian security guard friend Sergei, and his reliable, if a little enigmatic, trainee in Rhiannon. Everyone was assembled, and if there was any time to get a plan of attack going, it was now. He cleared his throat and spoke in a calm, quiet tone of voice.

"Alright. So we all know what's going on. For the past few weeks, Chloe and I have been searching for my twins, Zachary and Zoe. Right now, we unfortunately haven't made a lot of progress. Wherever they're hidden, they're hidden good. If you're here, either you're close enough to me not to be excluded..." His eyes passed over Dougy at that, "...I've enlisted your unique, professional skills in finding them..." Now his gaze passed over John and Sergei, "...or I trust you enough to want you to help."

At that last part, his eyes settled on Rhiannon. The girl seemed reluctant to hold his gaze for some reason, looking down at the table at first before jerking her head back up and returning his gaze. Probably nothing in that... people reacted strangely to being mentioned like that all the time.

"With that said, I'm considering taking our search to the next level. For the time being I've kept our search a secret, because in the wrong hands it could be deadly. You all know that. But right now we're spread pretty thin. Yes, we have eyes all over the West Coast... but I'm starting to wonder if it's not enough. Which is why I'm thinking we may need some help."

"Are you really sure that's wise, Steve?" Rhiannon intervened, a look of what seemed to be slight worry on her face, "The more people that know about this, the more likely it is that things will spill out. We're already taking enough risks as it is."

"If you're insinuating that I'm liable to get completely blasted and tell somebody..." Dougy began, turning his emerald gaze to Rhiannon, "I'll have you know that I've limited my drunken rantings to how Stephanie Meyer should be imprisoned for defiling mankind. My lips are sealed."

"Always about you and your drinking..." Sergei muttered.

"No, I just don't like the idea of taking risks like that."

"Trust me, Rhiannon..." Chloe assured her cousin calmly, "Steve knows what he's doing. I'm sure he wouldn't suggest trusting somebody else unless he was absolutely certain they were worthy of it."

"Try telling that to Dan Fierce..." John muttered.

"John, you're not helping."

This was rapidly getting out of hand. Rather than allow the debate to get out of hand as it was liable to do, Steve rose up to his feet and set both hands on the table. All eyes turned to him as he spoke.

"OK. I've seen the treacherous side of human nature here, guys. I've been betrayed a fair share of times, and I've seen people do unspeakable things. Each and every time, I've learned from it. Which is why I hope you'd know that this wouldn't go to anybody except for those who I know deserve it. Does anyone think my judgment might be faulty?"

Steve eyed up the faces for any possible dissent. If there were going to be disagreements, they needed to be ironed out right now before he moved to the next step. He waited for several seconds, but silence prevailed.

"Good. We need eyes everywhere for this one- which is why I've decided to hire the big guns for this one."

As soon as Steve said that, with almost impeccable timing, the empty seat next to Chloe was suddenly and abruptly filled. The new arrival to the table was quite a bit older than even Steve, Dougy and Sergei, men in their early thirties. If anything, he seemed to be in his early fifties and was impeccably dressed in a priceless black tuxedo, and his hair was swept up in a style that no doubt cost quite a bit to arrange. He seemed to exude the aura of 'rich and famous' about him and his expression was the shrewd mark of a businessman. Steve eyed him up and down, then introduced him.

"Ladies, gentlemen, meet our ace in the hole- which is a pretty apt term since he's pretty much the biggest gambling magnate in the United States. Meet Walter Crowe, of Centurion Enterprises."

"The Walter Crowe." Chloe mused, looking over to face the older gentleman in curiosity, "They talk a lot about you at the firm, you know."

"And you would be that young prodigy of a lawyer that we've been hearing so much about in the legal circles..." Walter remarked with a winning smile, nodding in affirmation to the group, "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen."

"Holy mother of God. You do know this man can buy and sell every last person at this table, right?" Dougy pointed out.

"Exactly. As it so happens, Walter and I have had the chance to talk recently, what with Andy and me aligning into a tag team. I've let him know about our little plight involving the twins, and Walter's offered to help us out. Our eyes and ears are limited to the West Coast, but Walter's got... considerably more power and influence. Just about the whole United States, and maybe even a little further beyond."

"I've heard about your plight with young Zachary and Zoe, and as a friend of Andy's, I would be glad to help Steve in any way I can," Walter clarified, steepling his hands at the table, "I'd like to keep an eye open. While I can't be anywhere and everywhere, the business world- and the law world- gives me the chance to see and hear things I wouldn't normally be able to. I don't have a private army or ties to the paranormal or anything else other people can claim, but I've lived long enough to know a thing or two about such things, and my connections can certainly help the two of you." He cast a look to Steve, Chloe and Rhiannon each, "You three are the ringleaders, I'm told, so I'd like to ask each of your permissions. Is it OK if I use what resources I have to help?"

"Can we trust him, Steve?" Chloe asked quietly, leaning towards him to mumble in a barely-audible tone.

"Cent vouches for him, and Cent is the one person in my life who has never betrayed my trust and never been anything less than a faithful friend. Ever. If Andy says he's safe, he's safe." Steve murmured back before turning his gaze to regard Walter, "You've got my approval, Walter. From what Centurion's told me about you, you'd be a more than worthy ally to have on our side. Name your price."

"Let's just call it pro bono for now." Walter chuckled quietly, "You're a friend of Andy's."

"You've got my support too." Chloe agreed. Rhiannon, oddly enough, seemed to have a conflicted look on her face for the briefest of moments, as if something in her head was worrying her. Steve caught it, and raised an eyebrow.

"You alright there, Rhiannon?"

"Huh? Oh, oh, it's nothing. Just not... used to the food here, y'know?" She straightened up in her chair, and the look of discomfort vanished instantly from her face as she nodded, "I guess it's alright with me."

"Unanimous, then." With that said, Steve reached out a hand to Walter for him to shake, "Glad to have you on board, Walter."

"The pleasure's all mine, Steve..." Walter began, returning the handshake in a firm grip like those often used to conclude major business deals...

"...now, when's the main course going to arrive? I'm positively starving."

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