Iris Denali never considered herself lucky. Most of the time she was able to shape her own way through life, assuring that everything that could go wrong was avoided. When unavoidable things appeared on her life's road, they tended to end...painfully. It was rare these days that she was called into the Federal Bureau of Investigation home office in New York City. As she climbed from her Toyota Corolla, she couldn't help but stare up at the non-descriptive building. Steeling her nerves, she mounted the stairs of 26 Federal Plaza.

The elevator met her at the lobby, taking her to the top office. Once there, the young secretary quietly contacted the man inside. She motioned Iris through the door with a gracious smile. Iris did not return the gesture, she was in no mood. The portly man behind the desk stood as she walked through the door, it closing with a loud band behind her. Special Agent in charge Jack Doughter shook her slim, pale hand. "It has been a long time Dr. Denali. You are looking well."

A lie. She knew the truth of her appearance. Her normally tanned skin was pale, almost cream like. Her black hair, while indeed straightened and brushed, would lack its normal bright luster. Once soulful, emerald green eyes that could pierce into anyone's soul and expose all their secrets were hollow. A year without contact to anyone in the world, save the young woman at the checkout counter of a nearby grocery store, would have this effect on anyone. Iris tried to smile, the feeling slightly painful and unfamiliar to the muscles. "Special Agent Doughter it has been too long. I was surprised when you contacted me."

Jack motioned for her to sit in one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs in his sparsely furnished office. "I'm afraid you will not be so happy once you understand the nature of this meeting." Iris knew what was coming. "I need you to come out of retirement."

Iris knew her eyes darkened for the man seemed to cower under her piercing gaze, the power briefly returning to her. "Jack we have been over this. I will refuse and you know that. You are only wasting your time."

Jack sighed, leaning back in his chair. The poor thing creaked dangerously under the man's massive weight. "You are so young to turn your back on such a promising career. You are only twenty-six after all."

"Twenty-eight Jack."

He laughed lightly. "See you look even younger." He sighed again, pulling a handkerchief from his suit pocket and dabbing his sweaty brow. "I was hoping you would hear me out. I think this one will interest you."

Iris stared at the folder that was slid to her side of the desk. After the events of January of the previous year Iris swore to never enter again into her field. However the doctor in her could not resist the challenge presented. She reached for the folder, skimming the papers it contained within its thick binding. "Special Agent Aloysius X. L. Pendergast, I have never heard of this man."

Jack took a drink from his coffee. "Yes he likes to keep from the limelight. I can summarize the folder for you. After a recent leave of absence from the Bureau, Agent Pendergast returned to work. Only when he returned his behavior was quite different."

"Different how?"

"Well, Pendergast has always been quite eccentric. When he returned however, he seems to be even more uncooperative with...well...everything. Higher ups, as well as myself, are concerned that in the state of mind he is currently that he is unfit for duty. That is where you come in. You have been able to get the most uncooperative serial killers, murderers, rapists, and gang leaders to spill all their secrets to you."

Iris felt her patience slowly waning. She really was not a morning person. "What is it you expect from me?"

Jack shifted uncomfortably, he seemed nervous about something. Iris felt a twinge of apprehension. "We are requesting that you set up therapy sessions with Agent Pendergast. Help work through whatever it is that is causing this behavior. If you deem him fit for duty then he will return."

"And if not?"

"Early retirement. Basically his future with the Bureau rests with your decision."

"Has he already been notified of this, the psychiatric appointments and conditions of his future work?"

Jack shifted again. "Yes. He was most unpleasant in that regard."

Iris knew her choice, it would take an act of god to make her change her mind. Standing she replaced the folder on the agent's desk. "Jack, my answer is no."

Jack Doughter sighed clicking a pen nervously. "The accident a year ago?"

Iris narrowed her eyes at the man. "You will not speak of it."

Jack held his hands out in surrender. "Iris, we are not asking you to return to us on full duty. We...I just want you to help Agent Pendergast. He is one of the best agents I have had the pleasure to work with and is a dear friend. I can assure you, even in this state he has fallen into, he would never do what that animal Logan Briar did."

At the mention of his name Iris gave an involuntary shutter, memories forcing themselves forward. Pain and blood. "Jack." she said darkly, warningly.

"I'm sorry. I am begging you Iris. Please help me get my friend back. We need him desperately, no doubt you have seen the news reports."

Iris indeed knew what he was talking about immediately. "The Reaper of New York." The Reaper of New York, a name given to a recent serial killer. Bodies were found in theatrical positions throughout New York State. The body count since his first appearance six months prior to this day was quickly climbing into the triple digits. FBI and local police could not seem to find anything on the killer. She shuddered at the grotesque descriptions of torture, mutilation, harvesting, and murder given almost nightly on all news channels.

Jack broke her thoughts. "We believe Agent Pendergast may be our last hope. In the past he had a habit of asserting himself in intriguing cases, mostly involving serial killers. However all attempts to recruit his help has been met with hostility. We believe you may be able to help him onto the right path."

Iris sighed. "I will agree to only one meeting. Depending on how that goes, we can discuss more."

Jack smiled broadly, an audible sigh escaped his lips. "Wonderful. Although there is one more thing. I am losing agents and local police to this case daily. It is becoming too much for them. I am requesting that any help you are willing to offer is given as quickly as possible. I desperately need Pendergast to return to work."

"I will try my best."

"You seem to not understand. I intend to get him started immediately. I will be requiring that when he is on sight at the murders or while working on anything to do with the murders, you are present."

"He is a Special Agent. I am sure he does not require a babysitter."

Jack dabbed his sweaty brow. "I understand the hesitation, but you will be in capable hands. As part of your job will be to assess his ability to return to duty, I believe it will behoove you to observe his actions while in the field. You of course will have control over what he does. If you believe that he makes a call that is out of line you have the power to stop his behavior."

"Will I not just get in the way? I am not a field agent. My specialty is psychiatric care and..."

"Criminal profiling. You will help him find The Reaper."

Iris felt her anger begin to boil, through clenched teeth she said, "You said I would only need to deal with Pendergast in a therapy setting and now you are wanting me to help him catch this killer?" Jack pushed a single sheet of paper toward her. He said nothing as she read. "Blackmail now Jack."

"This is the reality of the situation. I need The Reaper behind bars, Pendergast can do that. He however needs someone to keep him in line and make sure that whatever fragile state his mind is in stays in tact. You will achieve that and in the mean time put that wonderful brain of yours to work helping him find this animal. Or if you refuse, I will have you in handcuffs and in Guantanamo Bay by tonight."

Iris felt the shackles around her wrists, she had no choice. "He is to be at my office by seven tonight. If he is late, I am not to be at fault."

Jack sat smugly back, triumph on his face. "I'm sorry it had to come to this. But with the one hundred and seventy victims we have been able to find, I'm afraid I was left little choice. I expect weekly updates."

6:30 pm

Iris sat in her home office. The room was kept dark the way she liked it. She found it more comforting. The white carpet and cream walls had shadows cast on them from the black, leather chairs that sat in front of the roaring fire. The western wall of the room filled wall to wall with books offered little consoling to her tortured mind. She had not been in a therapy session with anyone since him.

She picked up Pendergast's file once again. Most of his past before the FBI and even past cases with the Bureau had be black lined. Confidential. The only thing she could gather was that he graduated top of his class, lost his wife tragically, had little family, lived alone, and none of his perps ever lived to see the courtroom. Interesting to say the least. Iris looked at her watch. One minute to the appointment time, looks like he wasn't coming. Iris crossed the room letting her finger run across the smooth wood of her desk in front of curtained windows, laptop resting on it. There was a knock at her door.

Iris opened the door onto a man she didn't expect. He was strikingly handsome though he resembled an undertaker. Even though he was older, Iris could plainly see that youth was still with this man. Very pale skin and platinum, almost white, hair graced his predominant cheekbones and thin face. His silver eyes stared into her dark emerald ones. He extended a hand to her and when he spoke, she noticed the honey accent of New Orleans. "Special Agent Pendergast."

Iris shook his hand very briefly, not enjoying the touch of a fellow human. She couldn't help but notice the feeling was mutual with this man. "I am Dr. Denali. Please come in."

Iris stepped aside to allow the tall man in. He was at least a good head taller than her, her own head only reaching his shoulder. He stalked into the room, quietly, with the grace of a cat he swooped into one of the leather chairs near the fire. Without a word Iris sat across from him and held out a glass of wine. Pendergast accepted the drink and sat back, unbuttoning his exquisite suit coat to expose the perfect white shirt underneath. She couldn't help but get a preternatural sense of unease from the man's cool gaze, a sense that he was superior. It caused her panic response to slowly become present within her mind, to which she tried to repress.

"I know it is not common for wine to be present at a session but I believe it helps to unwind both parties involved." Iris said, finally breaking the silence.

Pendergast left the wall of books that flanked the fire place and returned his eyes to her. The silver orbs danced in the firelight. They bore into her soul as he locked eyes with her. "I can appreciate a good glass of wine." He closed his eyes, taking a good smell of the wine before tasting it. His eyes opened, briefly showing delight before returning to nothing. "Chateau Petrus. You are trying to impress."

"Not at all. Just one of my favorites from my stores." Iris placed her glass on the small table beside her. "I wanted to start from the meeting that you had with Jack this morning."

He shifted in his chair. "That unpleasantness. I assume you would like to know how I reacted to the news of this meeting and subsequent arrangements of having to have a shadow over me as I work."

Iris nodded. "Yes. I would like to know your thoughts on the situation."

"While I cannot say I approve, there is little I can do. Jack believes I have suffered some trauma that requires a psychiatrist. While I can see the concern and agree to the meetings to appease him, I highly doubt that your involvement in the The Reaper case can be anything but...unpleasant."

At this Iris could not help but smirk. "At least we are on the same page. How about I ask you a few simple questions and we will see what happens?"

Pendergast swept his hand in front of him. "By all means." Iris couldn't help but notice the air of gentlemanly warmth coming from him, though an underlying danger was still there in his eyes.

Iris tucked her legs neatly under her seat. "Do you have any close family?"

Pendergast did not alter his gaze into her eyes, seeming to be at a war within himself. "That topic is, unfortunately, something we will not broach."

"How long ago did your wife pass?"

A flicker of darkness in his eyes, something Iris did not miss. She never missed anything once her eyes were locked with someone else. "Another locked topic."

Iris smirked at his defiance. "Alright, what happened during your leave of absence."

Pendergast crossed his legs. "I was on vacation."

"Would you care to elaborate?"

"No." The simple answer caused another flicker of darkness, hostility.

Iris took a sip of her wine, he was proving to be just as Jack said. Uncooperative. "Agent Pendergast, in order for me to get to the root of your problem and help you, you will need to answer some questions."

Pendergast smirked. "How about a game? I will answer a question if you answer one."

Iris was familiar with this game. A patient would ask something personal in an attempt to connect on a more intimate level. "Alright, ladies first. Do you have any family around you?"

Pendergast crossed his long arms. "No. My only surviving family member, my brother, met with a tragic end a few years ago. I am the last Pendergast. I do have a butler name Proctor in my employ. Do you have any family?"

Iris smiled. "I am the same. My younger brother was murdered about four years ago. My father died ten years ago and I never knew my mother. How did you wife die?"

Pendergast's smirk disappeared. "Officially by a lion attack in Africa."

"Officially? Was there more to it?" Iris felt her hair stand on end. She could tell immediately when someone was lying and this man was not. He had yet to say a lie, although she suspected he was still holding information back.

Pendergast shook his finger. "I do believe it is my turn." Iris nodded. "Why did you retire one year ago? At your age you should be just beginning your career."

Iris closed her eyes. 'If I do not answer his question I may lose the only opportunity I have at keeping him talking.' She met his gaze again, curiosity in his silver eyes. "I was attacked by a patient. I also got my degree at age twenty, you will find that I was a child prodigy in many ways."

"So I saw, I did do my homework Doctor. I was very impressed at your education and success in the field you have chosen. Though I did notice there is not much about your past as well No mention of your family for instance." Pendergast sipped his wine.

"What happened with you wife?" Iris tried to ignore his statement.

Iris saw it. The darkness took his eyes. "I was led to believe for years she was mauled by a lion while on hunt. I recently found out that it was murder. While investigating this, during my vacation, I found my wife alive." Pendergast's jaw locked and he looked at the fire. "I was briefly reunited with her before she was gunned down by a man she knew. That man is dead now." His eyes met her again and the darkness was gone.

She didn't know what to say. This man was not lying and if indeed this is the trauma Jack thought he suffered, she was sure it would explain whatever changes in him. Unable to think of a retort she simply said, "I am sorry for your loss."

"Unnecessary. The wife I knew died in Africa. While I still loved my wife upon our reuniting, I cannot overlook the betrayal of the secret of her living." Pendergast sipped his wine again. "Why did you retire?"

Iris narrowed her eyes at him. "I told you already. I was attacked by a patient."

Pendergast smirked. "I told my story. You can tell me yours. Just sitting here with you I can tell that you are no normal woman. You have a strength in you that I have not seen before. I do not believe a simple attack from a psychotic person would be enough for you to give in."

Her breath caught in her throat. 'How can he read me like that? I have to tell him and he knows it. I will loose his trust.' Iris breathed deeply. "His name was Logan Briar."

"The Broadway Butcher."

"Yes the very same. I was treating him for delusional hallucinations. After three months of working with him, I let my guard down for a second. He killed the police outside of the office while I retrieved his medications. When I returned he surprised and overpowered me. For eight hours he assaulted me and etched designs into my flesh before more officers came looking for him. I was his...canvas. I stepped away from my practice for personal reasons." Iris looked at her watch, they were due to end the session in half an hour. Relief flooded her mind. She never expected this man to have such an effect on her. A simple therapy session for him was quickly turning on her.

Pendergast softened his gaze. Compassion, so he was still there in his mind. "I did not expect to hear that answer. Most of the information I found on you was minimal. Education and work, nothing more. Seems like someone does not want you to be known. Only one more reason Doughter should avoid having you on this serial killer case."

Iris felt her heart skip, she was the one who worked to hide her identity. "Unfortunately, we have no choice. I am to make sure that you are fit for duty by monitoring you in the field. I do not intend to get in your way nor do I intend to inhibit your actions. Once I have satisfied Jack and can safely confirm you for duty I will no longer be involved with your case."

Pendergast rose from the seat. He did strike an intimidating presence like this. Iris felt her panic began to rise as he towered over her, fearing he may come closer. She knew he had to have a weapon on him. He was an agent after all but foolishly she was unarmed. Nothing but the long sleeved, tight fitting dress that ended mid calf on her. When he stepped away and began to look over the spines of her bookcase, she sighed. He spoke softly, "I do intend to ensure your safety and I only ask that if I tell you to do something you follow my orders. Just know that if the order seems, unique, it is in your best interest to follow it." Pendergast removed a book and flipped it open. "A very rare copy. I shall like to read this."

"Take it, as a gift of good faith." A knock at the door. She watched as Pendergast soundlessly crossed her office and answered the door, stepping back. Iris stood to welcome the officer. "Detective Vincent D'Agosta I presume. You are early."

He shook hands with Pendergast, smiling ear to ear. "Sorry about that Dr. Denali. I was just getting off of my shift and didn't want to waste the time going home."

"My dear Vincent this is a surprise." Pendergast turned his gaze to Iris. "Care to explain?"

"I was told Detective D'Agosta here is a close friend of yours. He is also assigned to The Reaper case. We will be discussing the relationship between him and you tonight. Unfortunately Agent Pendergast, our hour is up and you are free to go."

Pendergast cast his gaze to the Italian officer before returning to Iris, displeasure evident. So he didn't like others discussing him. "Thank you for an interesting night and the manuscript. Until we meet again."

Iris watched as the man quietly left the office and shut the door behind him. She realized she had been holding her breath, waiting for anger at her having called in a friend. Vincent D'Agosta sat on the leather seat looking around the office. "I was surprised that I was called in for Pendergast. I didn't think he would be a therapist type."

"A requirement for work I'm afraid. I was hoping you may be able to shed some light on his personality changes I was informed of." Iris resumed her seat across from the officer.

Vincent smiled warmly. "Well for the last couple of months I have noticed a few changes. He normally is not quick to temper but lately he can be drawn to anger easily. He was always particular about his appearance. I mean you can see that he always wears similar suits to what he had on but, I went to his house one day and he was bare chested."

Iris furrowed her brows. "That is not uncommon among the male sex."

"It is for him. I have never seen him outside of those suits. He was even unshaven, something I have never seen. He is normally particular about himself. It might sound minor but I was quite shocked."

"Nothing is minor Detective. Is there anything else, a drug habit or drinking abuse?"

Vincent looked into the fire. "He just seems withdrawn. Unless he has to be around people he would rather be alone. I wouldn't worry too much though. I mean he was never a social person before but the few people he does communicate with he has been distancing himself from."

"Do you think this stems from his wife's recent murder?"

"He told you about that?" Iris nodded. "Yes I believe that is where all of this is coming from."

'There it is. The behavior issues, personality changes, routine changes, and work habits. All I need to do is find out what is bothering him about her demise. Does he blame himself or is it the betrayal of her fake death before her real one?' Iris thanked the officer for his time and walked him to the door. She changed into a deep emerald green silk with black lace overlay nightie in her bedroom before she climbed into her king bed. The house apartment was small but it was situated above her office. Her windows overlooking the gardens of Battery Park. She loved to stare out of the window beside her bed as she contemplated the challenges sure to greet her in the next few weeks. She fell asleep soon after. When she closed her eyes she could still see Pendergast's silver stare.