"That would be wonderful," Robert said. "He's much less likely to try to change you into anything bizarre."
"Would he do that?" Nigel frowned.
"Not to her," Marcus said. "Has it done it to others? Yup. And he wasn't one little bit sorry."
"You really do have to start teaching your fighters not to do such creative thinking, Robert. It's going bad for you."
"Actually," Robert laughed, "off the record? She bloody deserved it. Simone damned near bled out before help got to her, thanks to that nurse. Angus was sending a message, and since she isn't likely to treat another Donohue, I'd say it worked rather well for him."
"You just bloody dont' care, do you?" Nigel frowned.
"Angus's ends justified his means," Robert shrugged. When the food arrived, Nigel and Robert looked at it and smelled it.
"God, that smells good," Robert said. "Thanks." He and Nigel tucked into their breakfast, as the kids finally came into the kitchen.
"He's back," Sam said, actually glad that everyone was home, but what had come out of his mouth was relief that they had found Angus. "How bad is it this time?"
"Your dad has a hard head," Marcus said. "Concussion, a couple broken ribs, some bruised spinal bones, and some soft tissue damage. He's going to need rest and quiet for awhile."
"Oh, good. I get to tape the babies' mouths shut," Sam teased.
"God, even the younger generation is completely contaminated," Nigel shook his head. Marcus couldn't help laughing.
"Jerk," Anise glared at Sam for a moment, only half serious. She and Ginger filled their plates, and then Faith and Evie filled theirs, followed finally by Sam and Victor. The teens were trying hard not to laugh, not wanting to wake Angus. And then, all of a sudden the babies started to screech angrily upstairs.
"Hm. The minions are irked, it seems, because breakfast hasn't just appeared in their mouths," Marcus sighed.
"I still say tape works wonders," Sam shrugged. Victor headslapped him.