Another late night at the Agency. Claire put a beaker in the fridge as she thought about the happenings of the day. Another close call with Darien. He and Hobbes had been hunting down a terrorist and Darien had used a little too much quicksilver. Hobbes had gotten his partner there just in time. She had injected the counteragent right as the last segment of his tattoo had turned red.

Claire smiled as she remembered the look on Hobbes' face when he had brought Darien in. His previous panicked appearance had vanished the moment he had seen her standing inside the Keep, syringe in hand. Claire knew about Bobby's crush on her, and she always noticed how he acted a little more confident when she was around.

Now, she was alone in the lab, working on synthesizing a new batch of counteragent. She sighed as she thought about Darien and his dependency on this solution. As much as she hated to admit it, she could not help feeling that Darien *was* a chemical-filled lab rat. Day after day, she feared learning about his growing immunity to the counteragent. She feared coming to work one day and finding Fawkes insane and on a murderous rampage. Most of all, she feared losing her friend.

Claire closed up her equipment and gathered her things to go home. Hitting the lights on her way out, she walked out of the lab, punching in the lock code to the door.

With the natural chill of the lab and the surrounding hallway, Claire did not notice the cold of a presence that was following her.

*************

As she drove up to her house, Claire noticed a familiar van parked in her parking lot. She got out of her SUV and saw Hobbes standing at her door.

"Bobby, this is a surprise. To what do I owe this honor?"

Hobbes shifted from one foot to the other. His hands were shoved in his pockets but he kept eye contact with her. "I wanted to talk to you outside of the lab, away from Fawkes and such."

"Is everything ok?"

"Yeah, yeah it's fine. I just wanted to thank you. You know, for being all ready and such."

"Bobby, that's my job."

"And you do really well at it." Only now did Hobbes break eye contact and look down at the ground.

Claire smiled. Bobby was cute when he got embarrassed. "Well, you're welcome. Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?"

Hobbes opened his mouth to speak, but then changed his mind. "No, that's it."

"Okay, then go home and get some sleep. You had a rough day today."

As Bobby turned to leave, Claire unlocked her door and walking inside. As she started to close the door, she watched Bobby get into his van and start the ignition.

The sound of her dog bounding down the stairs drew her attention. "Hello Pavlov. Have you been a good boy today?" Her only answer was a bark and vicious tail wagging. Claire picked up her pet and walked into her kitchen. Opening her freezer, she pulled out a frozen dinner and prepped it for nuking. She hit the buttons and put Pavlov down on the ground. While her dinner cooked, she headed upstairs to change. A comfortable pair of sweat pants were calling her name.

She kicked off her heels as she walked into her bedroom. She moved to her drawers to grab her comfy clothes, but all desire to change vanished when she heard Pavlov start barking hysterically downstairs. A quick yelp of pain and then everything was silent. Claire moved to her night stand and pulled her gun from the drawer. Carefully and quietly, she headed downstairs. When she reached the foot of the stairs, she saw her dog huddled in the corner, shaking. She went over to her pet and felt his fur, which had a footprint frozen into it.

"Hello doctor," a thickly accented voice spoke from behind her.

Claire whipped around to face the empty air. Then, the air lashed out and hit her across the shoulders, and Claire blacked out.