"Don't wear that upstairs," growled Brenda, holding onto Ace as she bent double and tried to catch her breath from a major kick to the solar plexus.

"Brenda!" Bree gave a little cry of dismay and hurried to her 'older sister's' side with real concern.

"I'm alright." Brenda gave her a stern look. "Go and talk to Alfred."

Bree shrank small and crept from the room, looking totally chastened.

Brenda swallowed and lowered herself to sit on the floor, then held out a hand toward the back of the couch. "Come here, Clara. It's alright."

Dark eyes looked at her, then withdrew.