Author Notes: Thank you so much to munchkinofdoom for all her help in helping me in solidifying a plot for this. I've also used elements of the other two prompts in this story. Thank you also to lukadreaming and canadian_jay for the beta!

It was warm, almost unbearably so. With his eyes still closed, Stephen rolled over and threw the blanket off his shoulders. As he did so, his hand came into contact with a warm back. Stephen froze. There was somebody else in his bed. Normally, this wouldn't have been so strange, except he couldn't remember going to bed with anybody the previous night. In fact, he couldn't recall having had sex in quite a while. He'd broken up with his girlfriend last month, but even before that, things had been rather tense between them.

Stephen frowned. So who the hell was this in his bed? It couldn't have been Trisha, and as much as he hated to admit it, it couldn't have been Helen either. Stephen hated the fact his heart seemed to skip a beat at that thought. With trepidation, he opened his eyes and stared at the wide shoulders and short hair of the person in bed with him. It definitely wasn't Trisha or Helen, Stephen realised. Trisha was much shorter, and both of them were far more delicately shaped.

Stephen felt like he was in a dream as he reached forward and prodded the person in the shoulder blades. It felt as though his hand was moving through honey; everything was fuzzy. The person grunted. Stephen frowned; somehow, the grunt sounded familiar. It must be somebody he knew.

"You're awake early," a sleepy voice said.

Stephen froze. It was a male voice. And it definitely sounded familiar. Through the cotton wool that seemed to be filling his head, Stephen could have sworn that he'd heard that voice before.

"Think 'm gonna sleep a bit more."

Suddenly, it seemed to click. All the pieces fell together into a perfectly-formed puzzle, and he didn't like the picture. He really didn't like the picture. "Ryan?" he asked with trepidation.

The person rolled over to face him. "That's awfully formal for this time in the morning," Ryan said, his voice a low, sensuous purr. There was a gleam in Ryan's eyes that Stephen knew all too well, except he usually didn't see it on the faces of men in his bed. Or men in general, now that he thought about it. In fact, it was usually on the face of Helen whenever she got him into her bed. "You okay?"

Stephen pushed the blankets off him and sat up. "What the fuck is going on?" he asked. His head was clearing slightly, but it still felt as though somebody had either mashed up his brains with a sledgehammer or opened up his head and rearranged the neurons rather haphazardly.

Ryan frowned. "If you're not feeling up for it, that's fine."

"That's not it!" Stephen exclaimed.

"Well, then," Ryan said as he reached a hand forward.

Stephen jumped as Ryan laid a hand near his crotch. "What the hell d'you think you're doing?"

Ryan stared at him. If Stephen didn't know better, he could have sworn that Ryan had a hurt expression on his face.

"What is this?" Stephen demanded. He looked down and suddenly realised that he was naked. Reaching over, he grabbed a corner of the blanket and held it up to his groin. "Did I get smashed last night or something?"

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"This," Stephen said, waving his arm around to encompass the entire room. He blinked. "Where am I? This isn't my place? What am I doing here?"

Ryan frowned. "This is a poor joke, Stephen."

"I'm not the one playing the joke," Stephen snapped. Since when did Ryan call him by his first name anyway? He looked about the room and his gaze suddenly fell upon a photo. Reaching over, he picked it up and stared. It seemed to be of him and Ryan standing at Disneyland next to Mickey Mouse. "What's this?"

"Our last Christmas holiday," Ryan said slowly, his forehead creasing further. "Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

"I'm fine," Stephen said curtly. Well, his head was throbbing and it still didn't feel like his mind was working properly but he was far more concerned with the fact that he was in Ryan's bed and somehow, Ryan seemed to have photoshopped a picture of the two of them together. Was Ryan some sort of stalker? Stephen wasn't sure. He didn't know Ryan that well. From what he knew, Ryan kept mostly to himself, but when he did talk, he had a dry sense of humour. He didn't seem like the stalker type. "This is some joke, isn't it? We're at your place. I must have got smashed last night and Nick thought it would be a great prank to play on me."

"This is our place, Stephen," Ryan said softly. There was an expression in his eyes that made Stephen look away.

"Our place?" Stephen repeated incredulously. The way Ryan said it made it sound like he was gay. Sure he'd experimented at university and there was that one night with his roommate, but he definitely wasn't gay. "What'd you mean, our place?"

"I mean, our place," Ryan said. "As in we live here."

"What?" Stephen exploded. "I'm not gay!"

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Where have you been the last five years?"

"Five years?" Stephen was starting to feel like a broken record. "Now I know it's a joke. I've only known you for a year. A little over a year, actually."

He watched as Ryan opened his mouth and then closed it again.

"What?" Stephen asked. "Spit it out."

"I think you might have drunk too much last night," Ryan said. He sat up and reached over to Stephen, who automatically flinched away. "Look, I want to check your head. You might have bumped it or something. Maybe we should get you to the doctor. Come on, we're going to the ARC."

Stephen found himself being dragged out of bed. He tried to take the sheet with him to cover himself, but Ryan was too quick. "The ARC?" he repeated. "Is that some sort of clinic?"

Ryan stared at him, and Stephen used that opportunity to drag on a pair of trousers that were lying on the ground. They were uncomfortably tight around the crotch area. From the look of amusement on Ryan's face, Stephen surmised that they were probably not his trousers. "The ARC," Ryan said again, with a look of disbelief on his face. "Anomaly Research Centre."

"Catchy name," Stephen said. "Is it new?"

"We work there," Ryan told him. "Look, do you remember falling down last night or anything?"

Stephen sighed. Ryan was still harping on about that, obviously. He reached up and felt his head. There were no obvious lumps or anything like that. "I didn't hit my head," he said crossly. "I'm fine."

Ryan gave him a suspicious look. "Take off those trousers."

"What?" Stephen spluttered.

"Take them off," Ryan said, his eyes narrowed. "The Stephen I know had a scar six centimetres wide on his left thigh. I want to make sure you aren't one of Helen's clones."

Helen's clones? Stephen's mouth fell open. "Helen has clones?" he asked. "What the hell?"

Ryan's face softened marginally. "Well, if you were a clone then she'd train you better. Helen may be insane, but she's not stupid."

"She's not insane," Stephen protested. She had always been driven, but she wasn't insane. Sure, at times, Stephen had found her working in the lab at the university for days and days on end, but that just meant that she was a good researcher. In fact, she was a brilliant researcher. She'd always been a better researcher than teacher. Stephen had visited her sometimes during those late nights, and they'd ended up having sex over assignments she was supposed to mark. Sometimes, they were his projects and afterwards, she'd wink at him and tuck them away in a drawer.

"What sort of sane woman has a clone army?" Ryan asked. He obviously didn't expect an answer because he continued, "Now take off those trousers."

"I'm not a clone," Stephen said decidedly.

"I'll be the judge of that," Ryan said flatly. "Now don't make me ask you again."

Stephen stared. From the look on Ryan's face, he suspected that Ryan might try to physically remove his trousers – or rather Ryan's trousers – off him. He took a step backwards. "I'm not taking these off." Normally he didn't have anything against undressing in front of people, but there was something in Ryan's gaze that made him feel uncomfortable.

"You look ridiculous in them anyway," Ryan told him.

"Wait," Stephen exclaimed as Ryan took a step towards him. "Look, you want to make sure that the scar's still there, yeah? I can show you that without taking off the trousers." Gingerly, he sat down on the edge of the bed and began to lower the trousers fractionally. Ryan looked like he was about to start laughing any minute as Stephen managed to pull the trousers down just enough to reveal the scar.

"So you're not a clone," Ryan said, sounding almost disappointed.

"I told you I wasn't," Stephen snapped.

"We need to get you to the ARC," Ryan said flatly. "The doc should have a look at you."

"We don't work there," Stephen said, frowning. "We work in Whitehall. There wasn't enough of a budget for us to have a building of our own, but it's in the works for the future."

Ryan's brow furrowed. "That was the case six years ago..." he said, trailing off.

"It is the case," Stephen muttered.

"It almost sounds like..." Ryan shook his head. "No, that's ridiculous."

"What?" Stephen demanded.

"It sounds like you have amnesia or something," Ryan said flatly.

Stephen stared. Amnesia? That was just stupid. He didn't have amnesia. There were no gaps in his memory. Well, except for the fact that he'd woken up next to Ryan, but that could be explained away by a practical joke. A very elaborate practical joke, he admitted. One with seemingly no punchline. Slowly, Stephen reached up and felt his head. "No bumps. Nothing," he said. "I don't have amnesia. Now, why am I here?"

"I told you," Ryan said. "This is our place. We've been dating for five years and been living here for the past two years."

Stephen blinked. "Living here?"

"Living here," Ryan repeated. "Together."

Stephen's mouth fell open. They were living together? "Together, together?"

"Yes," Ryan said, sounding exasperated.

"I don't believe you," Stephen said flatly. He had believed plenty of things over the past year. Time travel through a shimmering anomaly. Helen being alive again. However, he couldn't believe this. It was just too unlikely, too improbable.

"I can prove it."

Stephen was beginning to get a churning feeling in his stomach. As ridiculous as Ryan's statements were, they were beginning to feel as though there was a grain of truth in them. It was possible, just possible, that Ryan was telling the truth. "How?"

"Look at the alarm clock," Ryan said.

Slowly, Stephen turned and looked at the alarm clock. "What am I supposed to be looking at?"

"The date."

At first, Stephen couldn't see it. Well, he could see it, but his eyes just passed right over the date. It was as though his mind was refusing to process it, refusing to accept it.

"It says ..."

"I know what it says!" Stephen exclaimed. "You could have gone into the alarm clock and reprogrammed it. And how does this prove that we're living together?"

Ryan reached over and grabbed a newspaper off the floor. "I'm trying to prove that you have amnesia. This is from a few weeks ago, but look at the date. It's the same year."

It was. And as Stephen looked at the front page, he could see the headline blaring: First Female United States President! "Newspapers can be faked."

"Why would I fake this?" Ryan exploded.

Stephen shrugged. "Maybe you've been stalking me? Maybe this is all some sort of ploy?"

"You're being stupid," Ryan told him. "If I wanted to seduce you, I'd just get you drunk or something. I wouldn't go through all of this."

Stephen was about to give an angry retort back when he hesitated. It was true. Ryan wouldn't go through all of this. Nobody would unless they were completely and utterly crazy, and Stephen was positive that Ryan wasn't crazy. Well, almost positive anyway. "But, but, that would mean..." He trailed off.

"Maybe you do have some kind of amnesia." Ryan's eyes were wide.

The words sounded silly to Stephen. It felt as though he was part of some terrible TV show or something. "My head does feel a bit strange." He sat down on the bed with a thump. "Maybe we should go to that ARC place."

Ryan laid a hand on his back. "We'll fix this."

Stephen damn well hoped so.

The doctor – or at least Stephen hoped the guy was a doctor; he was wearing a white lab coat after all – shone a bright light into his eyes. Once Ryan had explained the entire situation to Cutter, Stephen had found himself being bustled towards what seemed like a medical wing inside the building. The doctor leaned forward and looked into his eyes. Stephen tried not to shift uncomfortably in the chair and held his breath. Doctors really ought to be forbidden from eating garlic before seeing patients. "Hmm."

"Hmm?" Stephen repeated. "So, doc, is there anything wrong?"

"Not as far as I can see," the doctor told him. "No visible trauma to the skull. I'll have to check with an MRI just to be positive, though."

"Great, book me in," Stephen said. He tried not to look at Ryan who had been sitting there the entire time with a very concerned look on his face. He suspected that Ryan wanted to come over and do something soppy like hold his hand or something. He shuddered inwardly at the thought. He would have preferred it if the entire team had come in with him, but they had all acted as though he would prefer it if just Ryan was there.

"It might not be a physical cause," the doctor warned. "Retrograde amnesia can be caused by many factors, emotional trauma being one of them. It could be caused by repeated travel through the anomalies and dealing with creatures that come through."

Stephen stared. "I might be... emotionally affected by the anomalies?" Somehow, he thought that he would prefer to have amnesia caused by a physical injury.

"There are many causes," the doctor told him carefully. "It is sometimes difficult to determine the correct one." He walked over to one of the cupboards and rummaged around. "I'm also going to have to ask you for a urine sample so we can run tests."

Stephen took the small jar and tucked it into one of his pockets. He hated giving urine samples. It seemed as though that aspect of working around anomalies never changed. Even if everything else was different, the doctors would still be asking him for blood and urine samples.

Almost on cue, the doctor added, "And a blood sample. We can take that now."

With a sigh, Stephen rolled up his left sleeve.

"We think that Helen did this to you," Cutter said bluntly when they were all seated in the meeting room. He had a haunted look in his eyes that Stephen had never seen before. Cutter had always seemed so resilient, but the Cutter sitting in front of him seemed as though he was on the edge of cracking up.

In fact, as Stephen looked around, he could see changes in the entire team. There were new faces that he saw when he walked down the corridors, but that was only to be expected. It had been years after all. He'd had the wild hope this morning when they were driving out of the garage that it was all some sort of huge joke. After all, the streets looked exactly the same. But they had ended up pulling up next to this anonymous-looking building instead of Whitehall and Ryan had handed him a pass with his name on it. And of course, everybody seemed to have changed. The biggest change, Stephen decided, seemed to be in Connor. He remembered Connor as Cutter's eager student, and then as the slightly bumbling member of their team, but the man sitting diagonally opposite him today was anything but. There was a rather unpleasant hard line to Connor's lips.

"She wouldn't," Stephen found himself saying almost automatically, but then he stopped. He wasn't completely sure. After all, it had been years. Helen could have changed. He bit his lip. Who was he kidding? Helen had already changed. She wasn't the woman he had fallen in love with any more. That woman was a risk-taker but she wasn't reckless. There was a gleam of adventure in her eyes but she wasn't the type to go charging off into the unknown.

Cutter snorted. "Are we talking about the same woman?" There was an edge of bitterness in his voice that made Stephen's stomach twist. Did Cutter know about him and Helen?

"Why'd you think it was her?" Stephen demanded.

Cutter snorted. "It's just like her."

Behind him, Connor nodded. "Sounds just like one of her plans."

Stephen looked around. Both Claudia and Abby were nodding and everybody else seemed to agree as well. Stephen folded his arms across his chest and refused to look in the direction of Ryan. Ryan kept on giving him sympathetic looks. It was making him feel uncomfortable and a little hot around the collar. "She wouldn't do something like this." Not to him anyway, Stephen added. There had always been rumours that rivals of Helen tended to retire early.

"She has before," Connor snapped. There was acid in his voice. "She tried to kill Cutter a few years ago."

Stephen stared. "I don't believe it," he said, but there was a small voice at the back of his mind that wasn't sure.

"I can see we're not going to convince you," Cutter said. There was a flicker of sympathy in his eyes. "I'm sorry she did this to you, Stephen."

"She didn't do this to me," Stephen insisted. "How do you know that this isn't because of something else? The doctor said that it could be because of anomaly travel!"

Claudia shook her head. "That's unlikely," she said. "However, as a precaution Lester has ordered all anomaly travel to be suspended until a full battery of tests can be run."

From the looks around the table, Stephen realised that this must have been news to everybody. Connor's mouth was flattened into a tight line, and Abby patted him lightly on the back. Ryan looked surprised, and Cutter had a look of resignation on his face. Stephen blinked. He'd just realised that Lester wasn't there. "Where is Lester anyway?"

"He had an important meeting," Claudia said.

Stephen raised an eyebrow. That sounded awfully cryptic. "Look, I'm going to get a breath of fresh air," he said, suddenly feeling a wave of claustrophobia. These were all people he should have known, but they were different and they expected him to be different. He pushed his chair away from the table and walked out of the room before anybody could say anything.

As Stephen walked down the corridor, he realised that he had no idea where he was and where he was going. This facility – this ARC – was very large and there seemed to be a dearth of windows. "Shit," he muttered as he walked past several labs where scientists looked up and gave him curious looks.

"Wait!"

Stephen recognised the voice and began walking faster. He had no wish to have a heart-to-heart talk with Ryan.

"Stephen!" Ryan said sharply as he rounded the corner behind him.

With a sigh, Stephen slowed down and turned around. "What?" he said.

"We need to talk," Ryan said flatly. "Look, I know this is a huge shock for you, but it's a shock for all of us."

Stephen was glad that they seemed to be in a deserted part of the ARC. He didn't want witnesses to this conversation. In fact, if he had his way, he wouldn't be part of the conversation either. "We have nothing to talk about."

Ryan lifted an eyebrow. "How about us? Our relationship?"

Stephen winced. "As far as I'm concerned, we're not in a relationship," he said before he could stop himself. Stephen bit his lip as he saw the flicker of hurt in Ryan's eyes. "Look, I'm sorry, but I don't remember any of it. What if I never get my memory back, huh?"

Ryan's expression was closed. "We could still try," he said softly. There was another flash of pain in his eyes and Stephen couldn't help but feel guilty. Ryan was obviously hurting, but there was nothing he could do about it. It wasn't as though he hated the other man, but he couldn't imagine being in love with him either.

"No, we can't," Stephen said flatly. "I'm not in love with you. I'm not... that man. I'm sorry."

"So am I." Ryan's tone was expressionless.

Stephen hesitated. There was something that had been bothering him. "How did we... you know... get together in the first place?" He bit his lip. "I mean, if you don't mind me asking."

Ryan's eyes glittered. "What does it matter to you?"

"I suppose it doesn't," Stephen said slowly. Somehow, those words hurt. It felt as though he didn't deserve that icy tone from Ryan.

"You're not in love with me. You barely remember me," Ryan continued. "So why are you even curious?"

"I..." Stephen hesitated. "I don't know. Look, just forget it, okay?" He waved an arm as if to erase the question from memory. "Look, I'll be out of your hair soon. Once I get back, I'm going to pack up tonight and then go and find a hotel."

Ryan gave a curt nod and turned away.

Packing up his bags felt strange. It felt almost as though he was packing up somebody else's life. Somebody who enjoyed a lot of weightlifting and who apparently had a fetish for leather trousers. Ryan had silently pointed out the items in their bedroom that belonged to him before disappearing off into the kitchen. Stephen lifted up one of the weights and toyed with it before putting it back down again. He could come back for the heavier items later. All he really needed right now was a couple changes of clothes.

He stared at the leather trousers. Some innocuous changes of clothes, preferably, Stephen thought wryly. He grabbed several changes of underwear and a few t-shirts and shoved them into the bag. He then riffled through the drawer and took out a few pairs of jeans. That should be good enough.

"Need any help?"

Startled, Stephen looked up and saw Ryan standing at the doorway. Ryan was holding a beer in one hand and as Stephen watched, he took a swig from it. "Uh, no thanks," Stephen said. This was uncomfortable enough already. He really didn't want Ryan watching him. "I'm almost finished anyway."

Ryan shrugged. "Not taking much, are you?"

"I thought I could come back for the rest once I get a place of my own," Stephen said awkwardly. He bit his lip. Of course, there was always the chance that Ryan would throw out all of his other things, but he didn't think that the other man was that vindictive.

"Don't worry," Ryan drawled. "I won't throw away your precious clothes and DVDs."

Stephen stared. "How'd you do that?"

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Do what?"

"Read my mind like that."

A small smile crossed Ryan's face. "Look, Stephen, I know you. It was written all over your face."

"Oh," Stephen said quietly. He wasn't sure he liked the idea of his face being that transparent to Ryan.

"Want a beer?" Ryan offered.

Stephen shook his head silently. As much as he did want one, he didn't think that he should start drinking. He suspected that he would never be able to stop. "No thanks," he said. "Right now, I'd just keep on drinking and not stop."

To his surprise, Ryan laughed. "That's what you said the first time..." He stopped abruptly and took another drink of his beer. "Forget it."

"Look," Stephen said, "I'm sorry. I really am." He shrugged helplessly. "It's just that I can't stay here in this flat." For one thing, there was only one bed and he had no desire to sleep next to Ryan. "This... it isn't my life. I don't remember anything about it."

"I know what amnesia is," Ryan said sharply.

"I'm sorry," Stephen said again.

"You sound like a bloody broken record," Ryan snapped. "Look, I'm not saying that this doesn't fucking suck. This wasn't how I ever imagined this relationship would break up. Not that I spent a lot of time imagining it, but you know what I mean." Stephen nodded silently. "Last night everything was normal," Ryan continued. "We were normal."

"I..."

"Don't say it," Ryan warned. "Don't say that you're sorry again."

"Fine," Stephen muttered. He looked down at his packed bag with its bulging zipper. He took a deep breath. "Well, I suppose I'll be going then."

"I suppose you will," Ryan said.

Taking a deep breath, Stephen shouldered his bag and walked towards the bedroom door. He expected Ryan to step aside, but Ryan simply gave him a brittle smile. "I suppose I'll see you," Stephen said awkwardly. He stepped forward and squeezed through the small space between Ryan and the doorframe. Ryan still didn't move as Stephen walked away.

Stephen looked around the hotel room. It looked so empty with his one, small bag lying on the sofa. It wasn't as though he hadn't stayed in hotel rooms before, but somehow, this time felt different. Perhaps it was because he knew that apparently he was in this relationship with Ryan. Perhaps it was because he couldn't seem to remember the last five or so years of his life. Perhaps it was just because he'd moved past the time of his life where he enjoyed being in an empty room by himself.

"Shit," Stephen muttered as he sat down heavily on the bed. What if they couldn't get his memory back? What if it was caused by something completely unrelated to the anomalies, and he just became another one of the thousands of people in the world with retrograde amnesia. Sometimes it was incurable.

Stephen swallowed. He didn't like the shiver sliding down his spine or the flutter of fear in his stomach. The idea of missing a chunk of his life was beginning to sink in and it was like a stone weighing him down. The look on Ryan's face, the look of sorrow and betrayal, seemed to twist his heart. He barely knew the other man. As far as he knew, Tom Ryan was a good soldier, a good asset to his team, but apparently, they'd been living together for two years. Stephen had never had a relationship that long before and by all indications, it had been going really well.

Until this.

Stephen walked over and opened up the minibar. Pulling out a bottle at random, he opened it and downed the contents, wincing at the burn of the alcohol. "Vodka," he said as he stared at the bottle. It wasn't one of his favourite drinks, but it would have to do. Grabbing another couple of bottles, Stephen walked back over to the bed.

Why couldn't he remember? It wasn't like when he'd had too much to drink and his recollection of the previous night was fuzzy. Those times, Stephen found that when he concentrated, he could remember things: a certain smell, a shade of lipstick, a look in somebody's eyes. But now, he couldn't seem to remember anything. He'd apparently lived with Ryan for years, yet he couldn't even dredge up what the other man smelled like or what sort of toothpaste he used.

It was as though somebody had completely wiped the last few years out of his mind. Was that normal? Stephen didn't know.

With a heavy heart, Stephen lay down on the bed and closed his eyes.

"Just look at these," Stephen said with a laugh as he pulled a few t-shirts out of the washing machine. They were still stained red with dinosaur blood from their last mission. "I think I'm going to have to buy new ones."

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Again? That's the third lot of t-shirts you've ruined this month."

Stephen rolled his eyes. "What about your jacket?" Ryan's last jacket had been ripped to shreds by a rampaging rhino.

"Least I don't leave my clothes on the floor until the blood's congealed," Ryan said with a snort. "Next time, take a tip from Abby and wash them straight away. Otherwise, dinosaur blood's impossible to get off."

Stephen poked Ryan in the ribs. "Talking from experience, are we?" he teased as Ryan planted a kiss on his nose.

Stephen woke up panting. He could still smell freshly-laundered clothes and feel Ryan's kiss on his nose. "What the hell?" he muttered. He still couldn't seem to remember anything, but the dream had been so vivid, so real. It was like a memory, but just a fragment. It was as though it was a scene from a movie, with no context and no emotions behind the scene to ground it. It was already fading away from his memory, even as he tried to grasp onto the last tendrils.

He was about to roll over and go back to sleep again, when he heard an insistent knocking on the door. Dragging himself out of bed, Stephen stumbled over to the door and pulled it open. "Helen?" He blinked blearily and wiped the sleep from the corner of his eyes. He looked over at the clock. It was almost two in the morning and it felt like somebody had run over his head with a bulldozer. "What are you doing here?"

Helen smiled slyly as she leaned against the doorframe. Her shirt was rolled up to her elbows and tight across her chest. "Don't you remember the days when I used to visit you at night? When I told Nick that I was working late?"

Stephen did remember. He shifted uncomfortably. "But that's in the past," he said. "It was a very long time ago."

"Not that long for me," Helen told him. "It's only been a few years for me."

"Well, for me too," Stephen admitted. Thanks to the memory loss, anyway, otherwise it would have been a lot more.

Helen nodded. "The amnesia."

Stephen blinked rapidly. He wasn't surprised, though. Helen always showed a surprising perspicacity when it came to things that had happened to him. She never seemed to need to ask him questions about his life; she just knew. "Yeah," he said. "I can't remember the last five years."

"Do they know what caused it?"

Stephen shook his head and smothered a yawn. He was still exhausted despite having slept for almost ten hours already. He had just collapsed onto the hotel bed early in the afternoon and gone straight to sleep. "They think it might have something to do with the anomalies."

Helen laughed. "Nonsense. I've travelled through them more than everybody else and it hasn't affected my memory."

That was true, Stephen considered. "You must have been to a lot of places," he said slowly. "And a lot of times."

Helen stepped forward, into the hotel room, letting the door shut behind her. She ran a finger down Stephen's cheek, causing him to shiver. "Come with me," she said, her voice a low purr. "Come with me and we can travel through time together. You won't believe the wonders out there. We can see the pyramids being built. We can see the Earth hundreds and thousands of years ago. It's beautiful out there and it's all there for us to see." Her eyes gleamed.

Stephen swallowed uncomfortably. "It does sound good," he said slowly. His mind didn't seem to be working properly. This always happened when he was around Helen. She could just smile in his direction and his mind seemed to go fuzzy. It was as though he was 25 and her postgraduate student again.

"It is good," Helen confirmed. "More than good. And we'll be together." She grabbed his hand and pulled him forward.

"We're leaving right now?" Stephen asked, blinking rapidly.

There was a tiny flash of irritation through Helen's eyes, and then it was gone and she was leaning forward again, her breath hot on his cheek. "We are," she said softly. "You don't need to be here." She waved her arm around to indicate the small hotel room.

"I do have an appointment with the doc tomorrow morning. The blood tests are due back," Stephen said. He bit his lip. He hadn't told Helen about the fact the ARC team suspected she had something to do with his amnesia.

"There's nothing wrong with you," Helen insisted.

Stephen shivered at the look she gave him and the promise in her eyes. "Years are missing from my memory."

"There's a wonderful doctor in Naples six years ago," Helen said, a faraway look in her eyes. "I can take you to see him. There should be an anomaly opening up soon to that time."

A sudden thought occurred to Stephen. "How about the future?" he asked slowly. "Could we go to the future?"

"Of course," Helen said, but there was a strange note in her voice. "You should see the beautiful sunsets during the last ice age. Red and gold over snow-capped mountains and icy glaciers. I could take you there, Stephen. We could go there together." Her fingers tightened around his.

"I want to go," Stephen admitted. "But I want to find out what's wrong with me as well. The doc said that travelling through anomalies may make it worse. I don't want to step through and suddenly forget who you are."

"You won't," Helen insisted.

Stephen frowned. She seemed awfully positive of that fact. It was almost as though there was something that she wasn't telling him. "I'll come with you next week," he promised quietly. "I just want my memory fixed."

There was a flash of something in Helen's eyes before she gave him a warm smile. "I'll hold you to that," she said with a wink as she ran a light finger over his forearm.

It took Stephen ages to get back to sleep again and it seemed like as soon as he had fallen into a deep sleep, there was another sharp rapping sound on the door. He groaned as he pulled himself out of bed again.

"Cutter!" Stephen exclaimed as he opened the door. "What are you doing here?"

To his surprise, Cutter held out a coffee. "Here," he said. "I got you this. Just the way you like it."

"Uh, thanks," Stephen said as he took the cup. Taking a sip of the coffee, he wrinkled his nose. "Just the way I like it, eh?"

Cutter laughed softly. "Well, just the way you like it now. I'd forgotten how much sugar you put in your coffee a few years back. Remember back when you were a student and I took a sip from your coffee by mistake?"

Stephen did remember. Cutter had spat the coffee halfway across the room and had made a joke about how it was so sugary that it was more like a soft drink than coffee. "So I suppose I don't like sugar now?" he asked as he walked back into the room. Putting the coffee cup on the table, Stephen grabbed a few packets of sugar, opened the lid and dumped them inside.

"I think Ryan was good for you," Cutter said with a grin. "He got you eating much healthier and you drink proper coffee now. You guys are great together."

Stephen shifted on his feet. "Look," he said. "I don't mean to be rude, but I don't really want to talk about him."

Cutter nodded. "Look, I do understand," he said quietly. "But you have to realise that it's hard on him as well."

Stephen stared. Where on earth had this new Cutter come from? The Cutter he knew tended to avoid talking about feelings and emotional stuff. This Cutter seemed to be acting as though they were good friends. "I know that," Stephen said, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. "But look, I barely know the guy. He's a good soldier. We had a few drinks together once. That's it."

Cutter shrugged as he took a sip out of his own coffee. "Anyway, I just came to see how you were doing."

Stephen narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "So did Abby send you?"

Cutter laughed. "Well it seems like some things don't change, after all. Yeah, she was concerned, but so was everybody else." He hesitated. "Including Ryan. Look, I know you said you didn't want to talk about this, and normally, I'd just leave it be, but you're one of my best mates."

Stephen blinked rapidly. He and Cutter were best mates? He wondered whether Cutter knew about his relationship with Helen. Somehow, he doubted it.

"Your relationship was one of the best I've ever seen," Cutter continued. He shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "Look, I just think you shouldn't walk away from it. Talk to Ryan. See if you can remember anything."

"I can't," Stephen said flatly. "Look, it's not as though I haven't tried!" He paused. Of course, there was that strange dream he'd had before Helen had paid him a late-night visit, but surely that was just a dream, nothing more.

Cutter gave him a suspicious look but didn't say anything. "Anyway, I'm here to drive you to the ARC," he said. "Are you ready?"

"Sure," Stephen said slowly. It sounded almost like Cutter was keeping tabs on him, but he wasn't sure to what end. It could have just been concern for a friend, or Cutter might want to keep tabs on him for another reason.

"Well, come on then," Cutter said. "You can drink the rest of that in the car."

With a sigh, Stephen followed Cutter out of the room.

"You've been infected with something," the doctor told him.

Stephen stared. "Infected with what?"

At least the doctor had the decency to look ashamed. "We haven't had the time to run a full battery of tests yet, but so far, all indications show that it is an unknown pathogen."

"So you don't know," Stephen concluded. "Great."

The doctor turned to Cutter. "We have concluded that it is likely not related to travelling through the anomalies. The random blood tests we've taken from your team and the other teams have shown no such pathogen."

Stephen blinked. There were other teams travelling through the anomalies? It seemed like every second sentence out of somebody else's mouth told him something else new and surprising about the future. "Can't you give me antibiotics or something?"

"It's not a bacterium," the doctor explained. "It's a virus and from its neat structure, we suspect it's a man-made one. We don't want to pump you full of random drugs until we can identify more about the virus."

"Oh," Stephen said quietly.

"We'll let you know more as we run the tests," the doctor said, a look of sympathy in his eyes. "But right now, I think you should go back home and rest. We don't know what else this virus could do to you."

Stephen sighed. He couldn't help but think that the medical staff in this future seemed rather incompetent. "Well," he said to Cutter as they walked away from the medical wing, "I'm going to go back to the hotel."

"Look, Stephen," Cutter said, "if you want to talk..."

"No," Stephen said quickly.

There was a brief look of relief on Cutter's face before he patted Stephen on the shoulder. "We'll fix this," he said.

"Yeah," Stephen muttered. He wasn't even sure if he wanted it to be fixed. He didn't want to lose five or so years of his memory forever, but he wasn't sure he wanted the life that he seemed to have. "Thanks for the coffee this morning."

"No problem," Cutter said.

Stephen walked quickly away. The corridors all seemed to look the same but somehow he managed to make his way to the innocuous-looking foyer. A large sign over the reception announced the building as some sort of agriculture research unit. Stephen stifled a laugh. There was no place better to hide the ARC than in plain view.

As he opened the front door, Stephen sniffed. There was a familiar scent on the air, but he couldn't place it. All he knew was that the smell seemed to make his heart twist. As he walked down the footpath, Stephen thought he could hear somebody behind him. He began to walk faster. He didn't know the streets around this area and although it was improbable that he could be mugged in broad daylight, he didn't want to take a chance.

As Stephen rounded a corner, he turned his head just in time to see a flash of colour. Then suddenly, the world went black.

Stephen looked around, bewildered. There was an anomaly a couple of hundred metres behind him and in front of him, in the distance, there was a herd of what seemed like dinosaurs. "What the hell?" he muttered. "Where am I?"

"The Cretaceous period, of course."

Stephen spun around. He could see Ryan grinning at him. "The Cretaceous period? What are we doing here?"

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Scouting, of course," he said. "Look, are you okay? I know you wanted to stay back at the lab, but I thought you'd want to see this."

"No..." Stephen said slowly. He didn't think that he was okay. One minute he was walking out of the ARC, and turning down the road towards his hotel, and the next minute, he was here. There was a fuzzy bit in between, and Stephen thought he might have seen a flash of brown hair, but he couldn't seem to grasp onto the memory.

"You don't look well," Ryan said, sounding concerned. He took a step forward and put a hand on Stephen's face.

Stephen shivered and turned his head away. "I'm fine." He closed his eyes and focused on getting out of there. It wasn't real. He wasn't in the Cretaceous period. He was in the twenty-first century. If he just shut his eyes, he would open them and find out that all of this was a dream.

"Stephen!"

Opening his eyes, Stephen could feel his heart pounding as he saw that the herd of dinosaurs had turned and were thundering in their direction. Their teeth were bared, and Stephen thought he could see saliva dripping from their jaws. "Oh fuck."

"Run!" Ryan shouted.

Stephen stumbled as he tried to run. He could hear the sound of thundering footsteps behind him and ahead of him, he could see Ryan pulling steadily away. Stephen couldn't seem to make his limbs work properly. He could feel himself getting winded as he clutched his side and tried to make his legs continue to move. He thought he could feel the breath of one of the dinosaurs on the back of his neck, but he didn't want to turn around to see...

Stephen woke up gasping. Helen was reclining on a chair next to him, with a lazy cat-like smile. "You're awake, my dear," she said, her voice a low purr. "Nice of you to join us."

Us? Stephen twisted his head and his eyes widened as he took in what seemed like a veritable army of Nick Cutters standing there around Helen. All of them seemed to be heavily armed and all of their faces seemed oddly smooth and featureless. He turned his head back to stare at Helen. Stephen couldn't believe that they had been right. It was Helen all along. This wasn't the Helen he knew, he decided. This Helen was different. Harder. "So you do have a clone army," he said bitterly. Looking down, he could see that he was tied down to what seemed like a dentist's chair. Plastic restraints cut into his wrists as he tried to sit up.

Helen reached over and patted the shoulder of the nearest Cutter clone. "I wouldn't call it an army, darling," she said. "They're more like my friends." She gave him a wide smile. "Oh and I wouldn't struggle if I were you," she added mildly. "I wouldn't want the circulation to your hands and feet to be cut off."

"They'll find you, you know," Stephen snapped. Helen was right; the restraints seemed to be tightening around him as he struggled. Maybe it was some sort of new-fangled plastic she'd grabbed from the future. "The ARC team, they'll find you."

"I'm counting on it," Helen assured him. "I'm sorry I have to do this to you, Stephen. I wanted you to come away with me, but you wouldn't."

"You're insane," Stephen told her.

Helen's eyes glittered. "Insane? Perhaps. But I'm saving the world."

Stephen snorted. "Saving the world?"

"If only you knew," Helen told him. "There are creatures in the future. Predators. They end up destroying the world and I'm going to stop them." There was a determined look in her eyes and a stubborn set to her chin.

"You're going to do that by tying me up?"

Helen grinned. "I could do other things to you," she said, her voice light and teasing. If Stephen didn't know better, he would have thought that this was one huge joke, but then Helen's face hardened. "But not right now." She looked at her watch. "Your friends at the ARC are taking their sweet time rescuing you."

"How do they even know where I am?" Stephen demanded. Now that his head was clearing, he could remember a hand being clapped over his mouth as he walked down the street, then there was that strange dream and then he woke up here.

Helen tapped her forearm. "Subcutaneous transmitter," she said.

Stephen stared. "I have a transmitter in my arm?"

Helen nodded lazily. "Lester decided that it was a good way to keep track of his team. They don't know that I know about the transmitter." She stroked the barrel of her gun.

Stephen wrinkled his nose. He wasn't sure how much he enjoyed the idea of being tracked like that by Lester. "I suppose you were the one who erased my memory," Stephen said bitterly. "They were right about that too."

"Why, of course," Helen said smoothly.

"How'd you do it?" Stephen snapped. "How'd you erase my memory?"

"Quite simple," Helen told him as she put her feet up on a stool. "You were out with Ryan for dinner a few nights ago. I just slipped it into your drink."

Stephen stared. There were memory-erasing drugs that could be slipped into drinks? "So all that talk about travelling through time together..." He let out a deep breath. He couldn't believe he'd bought it. He should have learned from last time he was with Helen. One day she was talking about taking a round-the-world trip, the next day she'd disappeared. He had thought that something bad had happened to her, but it turned out that she was travelling through the anomalies all that time.

"It wasn't a lie," Helen said lightly. "I would have taken you with me."

Stephen snorted. "Sure you would."

Helen gave him a serious look. "I'm not doing this for my own amusement," she told him. "I'm saving the world."

Steven shuddered. There was a gleam in her eyes whenever she talked about saving the world. It was as though she saw it as her destiny or something. With effort, he gestured using his head towards the Cutter clones. "Think you could get them to stand somewhere else? They're kind of creepy."

Helen looked towards them and tilted her head to one side, looking thoughtful. "They are a bit, aren't they?" She gave Stephen a bright smile and then gestured for the clones to leave the room. "For you, Stephen."

"It would be nice if you could untie me as well," Stephen muttered, but she didn't seem to hear.

"Now, all we need to do is sit back and wait for your friends to rescue you," Helen said. She reached down and pulled out a plate of biscuits. "Would you like one?"

Stephen gave her an innocent look. "I'd love one, but my hands seem to be a little tied up."

Helen laughed. "Nice try, Stephen."

Stephen glared at her.

Stephen could hear the ARC team. It seemed like Helen had microphones outside of the building, picking up every single whisper. He was about to open his mouth to yell out when suddenly, she reached over and pressed a piece of tape across his mouth.

"Now, shhhh," she said. "I can't have you warning them, can I?"

"Mmmph," Stephen growled through the tape.

Helen just patted him on the shoulder. Stephen watched helplessly as he could hear the team hissing instructions at each other and then he heard Ryan shushing them. As they burst through the door, Helen pushed herself off her chair and flicked the safety off her gun. "I wouldn't come any closer," Helen warned.

"Stop!" Ryan barked, holding his fist up, stopping the team behind him.

Helen smirked as she reached over to rip the tape off Stephen's mouth. "Now I presume that Lester is hiding somewhere outside like the coward he is."

"Hardly," Lester said as he strode forth. Stephen was surprised to see that he didn't seem to be carrying any weapons. "Now let Hart go."

Helen raised an eyebrow. "Or what?"

"I have more people," Lester said flatly, "and we have this building surrounded."

"And I have a gun to his head," Helen said. Stephen gulped as she pressed the barrel to his temple. "Sorry, Stephen, but you understand, don't you?"

"No, I don't," Stephen snapped. "You're crazy." He tried to catch Ryan's gaze but the other man didn't seem to be looking in his direction. "You were right. She is crazy," he said to Cutter.

Helen laughed softly. "Not entirely. I am willing to make you a deal. I'd even be happy to restore Stephen's memory."

Stephen blinked rapidly. Restore his memory? That would mean that he would have that perfect relationship with Ryan that Cutter was talking about. He would know everything that happened in the past five or so years. He would be able to get to the ARC without getting completely lost. It sounded like a dream come true and it also terrified him. The Stephen Hart that lived with Ryan, that seemed to be good friends with Cutter, that worked in the ARC and owned barbells, that Stephen Hart just wasn't him. Stephen wasn't sure he wanted to be that man.

"I'm listening," Lester said icily.

"It's very simple," Helen drawled as she ran a fingernail down Stephen's face. He had the urge to bite her finger, but decided that it wouldn't be a good idea. "Stop your little expeditions through the anomalies and Stephen's memory will be restored."

Lester folded his arms across his chest and narrowed his eyes. "And what if we don't?"

"There's an unfortunate side-effect to the medication I used to induce Stephen's amnesia," Helen said softly. "It's an unstable and insidious little bugger. His past and his future will mesh until he can't tell the difference. It will eat away at his neural connections until there's absolutely nothing left of the man you knew as Stephen Hart."

Stephen felt sick as she ran the gun barrel along his arm. The flashbacks he'd been having. He hoped that it was a sign of his memory coming back, but now it seemed like it was a sign of his mind unravelling.

"How could you do this to him?" Cutter demanded.

Helen laughed lightly. "Don't you know, Nick? I'm saving the world. I'm saving it from you and your ARC. Those expeditions will destroy everything. I can't let you do that!"

"We're studying the past," Abby snapped. "We're not changing it."

"You don't know what kind of danger you're flirting with," Helen said coldly. "Every step you take through an anomaly. Every decision you make. You're playing with the entirety of space and time. You could destroy everything. Not just humanity, but everything, every plant, every animal, every living thing."

"You travel through the anomalies all the time," Stephen said flatly. The certainty in her tone scared him, but the way she was stroking the barrel of the gun down his arm scared him more. "Why don't you stop doing that?"

"I'm not the one endangering the future," Helen countered. "I'm just asking you to walk away from the anomalies. Forget about them."

"You know we can't do that," Lester said flatly. "I'm sorry, Hart, but we will not negotiate with Helen Cutter again. You don't remember, but if you did, then you would agree with this decision."

The sound of his voice was almost drowned out by the thrumming of Stephen's heart. They were just going to leave him here with Helen. Not that he really blamed them. Helen sounded insane. Even if they did promise her that they would stop expeditions through the anomalies, she would probably ask them for proof. Stephen turned his head slightly to look at Ryan who was standing by the doorway. Ryan's face seemed deliberately devoid of all emotions.

"I'm sorry," Ryan mouthed at him.

Stephen nodded.

Helen looked amused as she sat back down next to Stephen after everybody was gone. She had sent her army of Cutter clones outside to patrol the perimeter. "Well, it seems like I was wrong about your friends," she drawled. "They don't care about your life after all."

"Of course they do," Stephen snapped. "They just won't negotiate with people like you!"

"My requests aren't difficult," Helen told him. "I simply want them to suspend travel through the anomalies."

"You know that Lester would never agree to that," Stephen said harshly and then stopped. He didn't really know Lester that well. Why was he so sure that Lester wouldn't agree to Helen's demands?

"I'm sorry you have to go through this," Helen said as she stood up and walked over to the other side of the room. She leaned over and riffled through a cupboard. "I did offer you the whole of time to explore with me, but you turned me down."

"I said that I would come with you next week!" Stephen exclaimed.

"And that would have been too late," Helen said coldly.

Out of the corner of his eye, Stephen could suddenly see one of the doors easing open. He caught his breath as he saw a familiar arm reach through. "Too late for what?" he demanded, loudly.

"Too late for everything," Helen said with finality. The tone in her voice made Stephen shiver. What was it that Helen was so frightened of? What did she want to stop?

Stephen could see Ryan easing his way through the door. He could almost see Helen's ears prick up and her turn her head, as if in slow motion. Stephen jumped as he watched Ryan grab his gun and speed across the room. Ryan was practically a black blur as he pinned Helen to the wall. Helen's hands were at her belt almost immediately as she pulled knives out and threw them, but they shot over his head and clattered harmlessly on the ground.

"I remember that little trick of yours from last time," Ryan said conversationally as he pressed Helen up against the wall. "I also remember how you got away last time, so I've been carrying these ever since." He reached down, grabbed a pair of handcuffs and snapped them on her wrists.

Helen glared at him and spat in his face.

"Watch your manners," Ryan snapped. "Now you will give Stephen the antidote to whatever screwed-up virus you slipped him."

Stephen felt a flicker of admiration as he watched how Helen squirmed. "Thanks," he said.

Ryan snorted. "You can thank me later when your memory's back," he said, his voice heavy with innuendo.

To his surprise, Stephen didn't feel uncomfortable by the words. Instead, he could feel warmth spreading through his stomach as he watched Ryan press a gun to Helen's throat. "Uh, sure," he said. "Assuming I get my memory back."

"You will if I have anything to say about it," Ryan said calmly, not taking his eyes off Helen. "So what'd you say? Your life for the antidote."

Helen narrowed her eyes. "You don't believe me, do you? You don't realise that I'm doing this to help you. To help humanity!"

"No, I don't," Ryan agreed. "You're one crazy bitch and I'm going to shoot you if you don't give Stephen the antidote. And then, afterwards, I'm going to escort you away to a nice cosy jail cell where you can spend the rest of your life. You can spout off your crazy theories there."

Helen laughed coldly. "They're not crazy. I've seen the future and it's terrifying."

"Guess what, I've seen the future too," Ryan snapped. "I've seen those future predator things and I've fought them. We're doing all we can to prepare ourselves."

Helen snickered. "Oh the irony," she said softly.

"Will you help Stephen?" Ryan asked as he leaned in further, the barrel making an imprint on her throat.

"The antidote's in the fridge," Helen said almost carelessly. "Just inject it into any old muscle tissue and the memories should come back pretty much immediately. It's a very interesting virus." Her eyes gleamed.

"I'm going to let you walk over to Stephen so that you can untie him," Ryan instructed as he handed her a knife. She took it awkwardly, the handcuffs not letting her move her hands properly. "One false move and I'll shoot off one of your kneecaps."

To Stephen's surprise, Helen nodded. He blinked and looked over at Ryan. Surely Ryan wasn't serious, was he? Would he actually shoot off one of Helen's kneecaps? Ryan winked at him when Helen's back was turned and Stephen felt a surge of reassurance. Of course it was a bluff. He was glad that Helen had fallen for it.

"You two are making a big mistake," Helen warned, as she cut through his restraints. "You don't know what you're messing with."

Stephen shot her a look of disgust as he swung his legs over the side of the chair. "I'll tie her up," he said. "You just keep that gun on her."

Ryan nodded as Stephen grabbed several more plastic restraints and secured them around Helen's wrists and ankles. Only then did Ryan lower his gun fractionally, and a look of relief slid over his face. "Well then," he said. "About that antidote."

Stephen could feel his stomach churn. This was the moment of truth. "I want the doctor to have a look at it first," he said. "I don't trust her."

Ryan nodded but not before a flicker of sadness passed through his eyes.

"I'm going to take it," Stephen said. "I want..." He hesitated. He'd thought about this while he was tied to the chair. As strange as his life seemed to him, he still wanted it back. The last few years were his. He'd made those decisions that had led up to this point and he wanted to know why. "I want my life back," he said quietly. "Provided the doctor says that's okay for me to take, I'm going to take it."

Ryan grinned.

Stephen took a deep breath as the doctor rubbed alcohol over his upper arm. It turned out that Helen had told the truth, or at least the doctors were almost sure that she had. They had tested the liquid and said that it was definitely manufactured the same way the virus had been and that they were almost positive that it would be otherwise harmless.

"Ready?"

"Yes," Stephen said. He wasn't, but then again, he didn't think he'd ever be ready for this. He looked over to Ryan and summoned up a smile. He wanted his life back, and this was the only way he was going to get it.

Stephen looked away as the needle slid into his upper arm. It was a painful sting, but no worse than a normal injection and then the pain was gone. "That's it," the doctor said.

"So," Stephen said as he stood up. "Helen said that it would be almost imm..." He gasped and dug his fingernails into his palms.

When Helen had said that it would be practically instantaneous, Stephen had almost expected the memories to trickle back into his mind, one by one, in some sort of order. Instead, he reeled forward, out of the chair, clutching his head. It felt as though something was trying to punch through his skull from the inside. But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was the onslaught of memories washing over him. There were memories of the ARC, of Cutter, of Abby and Connor, of Claudia, of Lester and above all of Ryan. The way Ryan used to sing in the shower. The way he was quiet, almost understated, until he had something to offer. The way he smiled, a slow, crooked smile just for him.

Ryan had cooked a meal for him last Christmas and despite the fact it had been half-burned and half-raw, it was still one of the nicest things anybody had ever done for him. He'd ended up going out jogging with Ryan every morning and it was their time alone together, away from the world. Stephen found that he actually enjoyed jogging. And then, of course, there was the sex, and the way Ryan's mouth slowly enclosed around his cock and the gleam in his eyes whenever Stephen gasped and came in his mouth.

Stephen couldn't believe he'd forgotten all of that. He took slow, shallow breaths until the stabbing pain in his skull subsided and the wave of memories had diminished into a small stream. As he looked up, he realised that he was sweating and his hands were shaking.

"Thank you," he said softly as he looked over at Ryan. "Thank you for everything."

Ryan grinned at him. "Just glad to have my Stephen back."

Stephen nodded and made a mental note to apologise to Ryan later for everything he'd said and done. "You won't believe how horrible it was," he said as the doctor steered him back down into the chair and began to check him over.

"It wasn't exactly a piece of cake for me," Ryan reminded him.

Stephen bit his lip. "Sorry," he said quietly. "You know, she tried to get me to run away with her?"

"I'm glad you didn't," Ryan said. Stephen gulped. With this tone of voice, he was never sure whether Ryan was furious with him or just milking the situation. "After all, if you did, then how would you make it up to me later tonight?"

Stephen let out a relieved laugh and his cock gave an interested twitch. "So, doc," he said. "How am I?"

"Everything seems fine," the doctor said. "But I'd take it easy for a few days."

"Great!" Stephen exclaimed as he stood up. His head spun slightly, but he managed to stay upright with only the slightest amount of teetering.

"Lester told me that he wanted both of you in his office for a debrief immediately," the doctor told them. "Something about an unauthorised rescue mission."

Stephen raised an eyebrow and looked over at Ryan. "Unauthorised, eh?"

Ryan looked sheepish. "Tell him we went home," he said as he put an arm around Stephen, who gave him a grateful look. It wouldn't do to be seen wobbling down the corridors of the ARC.

Stephen smiled. Home. That sounded good.

Epilogue

"This looks like a lab," Stephen whispered. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ryan sliding against the wall, his gun in front of him, eyes scanning for the future predators. As Stephen turned back towards the table, he could see a couple of vials lying there. The contents of the vials still looked intact. Stephen picked one up and squinted at the dusty old label. It seemed to indicate that there were samples of future predator DNA inside or something like that.

"Come on!" Ryan hissed as he gestured at Stephen. "We need to get back!"

"Coming," Stephen called quietly as he slipped a couple of vials into his pocket. Helen had seemed worried about the future predators. Perhaps the future predators appeared closer in their future than they had initially thought. If that was the case, then they needed all the defences they could get.

"About time," Ryan muttered as they ran towards the anomaly.

In the distance, Stephen could see future predators turn their heads and bare their teeth at them. He shuddered slightly and made his arms and legs move faster, gasping as he forced himself to run. He'd slackened off on his exercise routine recently and it showed.

They both dived through the anomaly together and Stephen tucked and rolled as he hit the ground. As he saw Connor lock the anomaly behind them, Stephen pulled himself up and patted his padded pocket. "I have a couple of lab samples that might be useful," he said, still gasping slightly as he pulled out the vials. "Apparently scientists in the future isolated the future predator DNA or something like that."

There was a flicker of interest in Connor's eyes. "Sounds good," he said cautiously.

Stephen nodded. "It's something we can use to fight them," he said decisively. "If we can study them, then we can know their weaknesses."

Ryan grinned at him. "Good to have you back," he said with a wink.

"It's good to be back," Stephen said as he reached over and patted Ryan on the bum. "It's very good to be back."

-fin