Location: The residence of Damian Hayward<br/><br/>Time: 9:30 pm<br/><br/>It was Wednesday night, which meant no fights, practice, or business.  Wednesday night was the night too clean the place up, make it look presentable for any visitors who come on Thursday.  Then Friday was training night, Saturday was fight night, and Sunday football.  Two days too relax, then repeat.  A nice, reliable, weekly ritual, keeps the kids from wondering what would happen tomorrow, if it had been planned already.  And it keeps them busy too, working all the little jobs that labor laws will allow, which mostly consists of cleaning.  Of such, the whole building, from basement too attic, was covered in kids from 6 too 14 all working away like little elves cleaning one thing or another.<br/><br/>Sitting at a desk in his office, Damian Hayward looked over a spreadsheet of numbers.  Profits, expenses, taxes, utilities, everything down too the last penny had too be accounted for.  Usually he had the help of an old student, but he got promoted and his new schedule doesn't accommodate helping old friends.<br/><br/>As Damian sat at the desk, a knock came from the door.<br/>"Come in."  Damian said, not even looking up too glance at the door as it opened.  In stepped a young man, 17 years old with light blond hair and a fresh nose cast 'thing'.<br/>"Back from Ben's, he said hi by the way."  Ken said as he stood in front of Damian's desk.  Looking up slightly, Damian nodded then held out a hand.  Ken obliged and plopped a fifty and change into his hand.<br/>"More change than last time."  Damian remarked, counting out the money.<br/>"The bone was only broken in one place this time.  Plus last time I also had a fractured rib."<br/>"Right," Damian said as he place the money in a safe, "I left your cut of last weeks fight on your bed.  Don't waste it all this time."  Ken gave a brief nod and walked out of the room.  Damian knew he wouldn't save a nickel of it, instead he'd probably waste it on some girl.  Well, maybe not wasted but it would do him more good in a bank.<br/>As Damian returned too the spread sheets a little kid ran in.<br/>"Damian, we finished the basement. Can we go play?"<br/>"Have one of the older kids check, then sure."  As the kid skipped back down the hall, probably looking for the laziest 'adult' he could find, Damian went back too his sheets.<br/><br/>It was an hour later or so that he finally set down his pencil and stood up, satisfied with the numbers.  Moving out into the living room of his house.  There was groups of children all over the place, playing with toys, cards, or other things.  The one place clear of children was Damian's oversized armchair, which he graciously settled into.  With the day's work done, he could now take a restful nap.  And God help whoever would dare wake him.