Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or parts from the movie "Minority Report" nor am I affiliated with the writers, directors, producers, ect. I am not making a profit from this story.

P/L: It is the year 2054. A so-called "Precrime division" is working around Washington DC. Its purpose is to use the precog(nitive) potential of three genetically altered humans to prevent murders. But soon a Federal agent comes snooping around headquarters in search of flaws. Human flaws. And the main man on his list is John Anderton, a firm believer in the system, that is, before it came after him. With the help of one of his closest friends, Diana Warren, Anderton has to prove that he's innocent, even if it means that the system will be shut down. But there's a secret that's being hidden from them all, and it's right in front of him.

Ch. 1: Murder Marks the Spot

The images are shooting through my head, so short, incomplete. It's a nightmare, how can they call this a gift? I try to fight the previsions, my foresight, but I can't. Where I am, they won't let me. The fear that runs through my veins…the fear that's always existed there…will it stop? Can I end this gift? I'm tired of homicide murders. I want a break, I want to be free…

I see a hand pick up a pair of scissors…the face of Abraham Lincoln. The scissors poke through the eyes. A newspaper boy rides by on a recumbent bike, a newspaper hits the ground. Snip, snip goes the scissors…

But I can't leave until the mystery's solved. Until I can rest that my mother's murderer will be placed behind bars. No one knows the way I feel…they wouldn't believe me. Can I believe myself? Yes…

There's a man's face watching—handsome, muscular. A kid's face is behind him. Left, right goes the kid's face. I see the back of the stranger and snip goes the scissors…

Incomplete…that's how I am. Secrets swell within my head. I can't tell though…no…never tell. They'd never let me go…they'd keep me under surveillance always. Freak…that's what it feels like. An outcast.

A woman admires herself in a mirror. Water runs into a bathtub. A hand reaches for a doorknob. I go through it, the door is left open. A flight of stairs…snip…

The woman unbuttons her blouse as the strange man watches from a doorway. Up the stairs we head. The bedroom door's slightly ajar…snip, snip…

But I will solve the mystery…I promise I will. I'll do whatever it takes. Maybe the pre-cops will see…they will see. But, the question is, can they?

The woman smiles. Her and the stranger collapse together onto the bed. Another man's face rises over them now as he watches. The woman looks over her lover's shoulder, sees the face and sits up…the man by the bed is smaller than the lover, older, but enraged. He raises the scissors…snip, snip, snip…

"You know how blind I am without them," the smaller man said placing his glasses on his face.

"Howard don't cry." His wife told him sadly.

The woman screams as the man stabs her in the throat with the scissors. Her chest moves rapidly as blood flows out and she struggles for breath. The muscular man tries to run for safety in the bathroom, but gets stabbed. Snip…

Bloody scissors bounce open onto the bathroom floor.

Blood-red water overflows onto the floor. The smaller man's wife lays dead on the bed, her eyes, lifeless unmoving.

Soon, people will know the truth about my mother's death. They will see…

Murderer…

----------------

Danny Witwer glanced curiously past the corner of one of the many halls as he explored the Precrime Headquarters. As an investigator for the Fed he was assigned to check and see exactly how Precrime worked, and if it was stable enough to go nation wide. His jaws moved up and down as he chewed a piece of gum. Walking through the clear glass halls he stopped and looked over to a door to his right, his hazel brown eyes scanning a sign that said "Lounge". As he peered through the glass walls he noticed a young woman sitting at one of the tables. Her back was to him but he could tell there was something wrong about her. Her slender legs were crossed at the ankles with all her muscles appearing tightly tensed. As she raised her coffee mug her hands trembled to where a few drops landed onto her hand and the table.

"Shoot," she muttered under her breath, rather weakly. Witwer frowned as he realized that her interjection was not because of the coffee but of something else. She took her unsteady right hand off the base of the mug and placed it on the wrist of her shaking left. She then began to breathe deeply. Quietly Witwer entered the room remaining behind her. Slowly, her tremor calmed and her arms and legs relaxed.

"Excuse me?" Witwer softly said.

The woman quickly turned around letting her long light brown hair swish around to her right shoulder; her eyes revealed a mixture of fear and shock.

"Are you alright?" he continued.

She grabbed a napkin and began to wipe the table and her hand. Her eyes avoided his, "Yeah. It wasn't that hot."

He motioned if it was ok to sit down and she nodded, "No, I mean, you were shaking."

She paused in the middle of one swipe across the table. "You saw me?"

"Yes."

Her eyes shifted to the ground and gave a small shrug, "Life hasn't always gone the way I wanted it to and let's just say I got into some addictions, but I quit all that a long time ago. And…every now and then I face some payback for my dumb mistakes, that's all."

Witwer nodded contemplating, "How long ago was it that you stopped?"

"Six years."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"It's hard to get rid of something like that."—she shrugged—"That's why I've begun drinking coffee." She told him as she walked over to a trash can and threw away the napkin.

For the first time in meeting each other she looked over into his eyes with her crystal blue giving a frown, "Who are you? I don't believe I've seen you on the force before."

Witwer stood up and extended his hand, "Danny Witwer, I'm the investigator from Fed."

She shook his hand, "Diana Warren. Wow, the investigation's today?"

Witwer nodded. "Gum?" He then held out a stick of gum.

She smiled taking some, "Sure. Want some coffee?"

He returned the smile sitting back down, "That would be great."

Diana walked over to the pot of coffee and poured him some into a mug. "What would you like? Sugar or cream?" she asked him over her shoulder. "Both, thank you," he replied. She then walked over to him with his cup in one hand and hers in the other. Handing it to him she slightly smiled, "Coffee and gum. What a great combination this'll be."

"It's not that bad actually."

Tonguing the gum into her cheek, Diana took a sip of her coffee. Witwer watched as this time she was able to actually bring it to her mouth.

"So, can you explain to me about the headquarters?"

She nodded. "Right now since there's not a future murder us precops will take a break until we hear the alarm sound which means that we need to set out. Then we suit up and load into our ships called 'Dispensers'."

"Where's the murders predicted?"

"Over at the Precrime Analytical Room. I can lead you to it if you want."

"Ok."

They both rose up and Diana walked over to the sink and set her empty mug down. Turning around she led Witwer out into the glass halls and began to head towards the Analytical Room when her watch went off. "Oh," she said checking the face seeing it say WAITING MESSAGE, "Listen, I'm gonna have to head to my office so, the room is straight ahead and then you take a left up a slightly spiral ramp and then you'll be there. If you get lost, just ask one of the secretaries for help."

He nodded and smiled as he watched her walk off.

--------------

Standing outside the door to the Analytical Room Gordon Fletcher, a muscular man with army style blond hair, watched as the Fed investigator walked in his direction being led by one of the secretaries. Hurrying into the room he approached John Anderton, a man in his early forties that ran the Precrime Department, while in the middle of solving a prevision.

"Chief, the investigator from the Fed is here." Fletcher told him.

Without glancing away from the holo screen Anderton replied, "You're kidding, that's today?"

"I wrote it down in your calendar, then left a message at your house—"

Anderton's blue green eyes inspected a frozen image, "All I need, some twink from the Fed poking around right now."—He turned to the black man, Jad, at the computer behind him—"Check again with the paper, they had it forwarded. See if the neighbors know where they went, check all relations—"

"But John—" Fletcher began.

"Fletch, just get him some coffee and tell him some stories of how I save your butt every day."

"I've got coffee, thank you," a voice said.

Anderton turned to see Witwer who seemed to study at everyone and everything. "Danny Witwer," He said extending his hand for a shake, "The 'Twink from the Fed'."

Anderton began to reach over to shake Witwer's hand when the image moved with him and disappeared. "Oops," Witwer said looking over at the holo screen, "Gum?"

"Sorry Danny," Anderton said beginning to scrub images again, "looks like I'm gonna have to give you the full tour some other time."

"The Marks moved two weeks ago," Jad informed, "Nobody knows where. Still searching for family and employer."

Looking over Jad's computer Jeff Knott announced, "Time horizon, 12 minutes."

Witwer slightly smiled continuing his conversation with Anderton, "Your secretaries were all kind enough to give me a look around the office…" Glancing out the clear doors Anderton noticed there stood half a dozen female Precrime office workers who all seemed to be staring at the new comer. And even better, they all were chewing gum.

-----------------

After checking her message, Diana began to head to the Analytical Room. She smiled as she began to reach the twisting staircase. The funniest part about the message was that it was a notice saying that the Fed agent had arrived. You need to stay on your toes Fletcher, she thought and began to think about how she could scold him. But before she came up with something, she entered a crowd of women that stood right before the door. "What's this?" she muttered to herself.

"Clear the stairs!" Diana ordered, it wouldn't be good for a precop to exit the Analytical Room and then trip from the crowd. The women slightly back away. She opened the glass door and entered to find Fletcher explaining the procedure of "scrubbing the image" to Witwer. Hearing her steps Anderton turned around for a small moment and then brought his attention back to the holo screen, "Not you too."

She furrowed her brows continuing to chew her gum and looked back at the secretaries. At her stare they all scattered, afraid that they'd be punished for not obeying her. But she then noticed how all of them had received the same gift that she had. She looked over at Witwer with a crooked smile, "Seems you found the place perfectly fine." Witwer smiled back.

"The victims are pronounced here, the killers here," Fletcher explained to Witwer pointing out the slots that the Red Balls drop from, "Beyond that and the date of the crime, all we have are the images that they produce." He pointed down towards the "Temple" at the Precogs. Witwer walked over and stared down at the three beings immersed in the milky water, not exactly human, but not gods either. One thing that was rather shocking was that the tank that they rested in was the shape of the Precrime Headquarters' badge. He smiled as he noticed it. The Precogs themselves were pale and their veins were slightly seeable. It seemed almost painful to watch as their bodies withered in agony and shook.

Fletcher followed Witwer over and watched the Precogs as well. It seemed amazing that they could have this technology as the years have progressed. Fletcher looked back to see Diana watching the prevision play over and over. He got her attention and directed her over and began to introduce her to Witwer when he saw she was already chewing gum. "I guess you two have already met," he said. "Yeah, we have," she replied. "Want some more gum anyway?" Witwer asked, "The flavor fades away pretty fast."

"I show a cop on horseback." Anderton told Jad.

"Somewhere near the capital?"

"No, maglev system."

"The mall?"

"Georgetown."

Diana smiled as she took the piece from his hand, "Thanks."

He returned the smile popping another into his own mouth. As he and Fletcher turned around to watch the Precogs he glanced back at Diana for a short minute. "She's cute," he muttered to Fletcher.

Fletcher smiled and stared down at the precogs. "Filtered," he explained, "the Precogs can see outward up to four days with a sensory range of 200 miles." Witwer blew a bubble, not even bothering to take his eyes off the Precogs, "So if you wanna kill someone, you take him to Miami."

"Not after the vote next week. Once the Amendment passes, we go national, there's gonna be nowhere to run."

"If the Amendment passes, mind you." Diana said looking over at Fletcher.

Yet as she stood there next to the Temple, Witwer couldn't help but noticed she looked a little weak. She seemed to have trouble standing up, and leaned up against the wall letting out a sigh. And when he turned to the Precogs, he noticed their focus had changed, they were all staring at her with their mindless cold blue eyes. She painfully glanced at the oracles and then leaned her head back against the glass again. "What do you mean if?" Fletcher asked her, "Who's not going to want an organization that stops crime before it happens?"

"Someone who knows there's no system that's perfect."

Fletcher and Witwer looked at her confusingly. What'd she know that they didn't? Absorbed in what he was doing, Anderton paid no attention to Diana's comment and continued studying the pictures. Looking at a map Jad turned to him, "Two Howard Markses EYEdented in the sprawl. Neither show married—"

Anderton looked at the reference screens as they scrolled through Architectural Imagery. "Oh this is good," Jad said excitedly, "I show a match for Dwight Kingsley. Nineteenth century architect. He did two dozen houses in D.C…"

Knott checked his watch, "Time horizon: 10 minutes."

Jad turned around to Anderton and repeated louder, "Time horizon: 10 minutes!"

An alarm went out in the headquarters, which made Witwer jump. Diana chuckled at him. Straightening his business jacket and trying to hide his embarrassment he asked, "Can't they shut that off?"

"That's the Red Ball alarm," Fletcher told him, "Crime of passion. No premeditation. They show up late. Most of our scrambles are flash events like this one. We rarely see anything with premeditation anymore."

As the alarm drilled in his head, Witwer looked over at him, "People have gotten the message."—He then took out his pack of gum and offered it to Fletcher—"Gum?"

"Whoa," Anderton said looking at the image of the muscular man in the suit. He zoomed in on it. Behind him there was a child's face to the left of him. He turned to Jad, "Look at the kid. In this one, he's on the left of the man in the suit."

"Yeah? So?" Jad said not exactly what Anderton was trying to tell him.

"This one he's in the right."

Anderton switched it to the next image where the child is to the right of the man but facing backwards. Moving the two images quickly to animate them it appears as the child is moving in a circle. "It's a merry-go-round." He said, "It's a park!"

----------------

As Anderton's team ran down the halls Witwer began to follow with interest. "There's only sixteen of those old merry-go-rounds left in the city," Diana told him, "Two of which are in Georgetown. One in Barnaby Woods, the other in Woodley."

"Woodley's all Victorian," Anderton replied, "It's gotta be Barnaby Woods. I want two cameras: one spyder, one floater." Pulling out a .45 from his waistband he jacked the clip and checked it.

"As I recall," Witwer began, seeing Anderton's gun, "they outlawed compression firearms in the District ten years ago."

Replacing the clip Anderton replied, "They did. Make yourself comfortable. We'll be back in an hour."

"You mind if I tag along?"

Diana and Fletcher exchanged looks. They both knew that Anderton didn't even want Witwer to be here.

"I'd love to take you along, Inspector," He lied, "but there's no room on the ship."

-----------------

Loading on the ship Witwer watched as Anderton got in the seat next to Evanna, the team pilot. He glared at the Chief as everyone got into their seats. At the bottom of the Dispenser one empty seat stared mockingly back at him. Anderton had lied. "Time horizon, six minutes," Evanna announced. And with that, the hover ship lifted off the ground and zoomed away.

-----------------

In the hover ship Anderton checks his watch. COUNTING DOWN 5:38…5:37…

-----------------

In the suburb of Barnaby Woods, the birds chirped a peaceful melody as the little boy played happily on the squeaky merry-go-round. As the spinning slowed down the boy jumped off and gave it another hard push and jumped back on as it went speeding in circles. Suddenly, the silence was broken by the sound of something overhead and as the kid looked around he finds that it's raining cops! Looking up he saw the Dispenser floating above him.

He watched in amazement as the precops ran past him. This had been the first time he'd seen some in action!

Anderton studied his portable screen showing the image of the boy with the house behind him. Memorizing what it looks like, he looked up. And to his dismay he found that there were houses surrounding the park, each one looking exactly alike. His watch gave a warning again: TIME HORIZON, ONE MINUTE.

"Chief," Evanna said, "we're catching up to the future."

"Shut up, Evanna," He replied.

Anderton began to study each house trying to figure out which one was most like the one in the picture. Diana walked up to him finding one distinct difference in one of the houses, "Uh, Chief…"

-----------------

As Jad and Witwer waited in the Analytical Room he found there was a call on his screen. Rolling his chair over to his computer he heard Anderton's voice, "Jad?" He brought the image into view and answered, "Go ahead." Witwer quickly moved right behind the black man staring fixedly at the screen. "Did he close the door?"

"What?"

"Did Marks close the front door?!?"

Jad went through the images and found the one where Marks reenters his house, "Negative—front door is open! The front door is open!!"

----------------

Looking over at Diana, Anderton smiled throwing off his helmet reveling his army cut brown hair, "Good work." Diana smiled, "This case isn't quite over yet, Sir." And with that they ran into the house with the open door. Running up the stairs Anderton and Diana did their best to reach the bedroom in time. There was only a few seconds left…

-----------------

Howard Marks stood over his bed and heartbroken, looked his wife, Sarah, in the eyes. Both her and her lover looked at him worriedly and shocked. "I forgot my glasses." He told them. Sarah gave a gasp, "Howard—"

He then grabbed his glasses off of the nightstand and put them on, "You know how blind I am without them."

Fear shot in Sarah's eyes as she saw the scissors in her husband's hand. "Howard don't cry," she told him. And then, she felt the scream rising in her throat when she saw them being raised above his head and anger in his face. He began to bring the sharp weapon down and she knew he was going to kill her. But suddenly, the downward motion of the scissors was stopped—as Anderton grabbed Howard's hand.

"What—" Howard said surprised.

Anderton's watch beeped as the time ran out. They'd reached the future.

Howard fearfully looked around and began to break free of Anderton's grip when he noticed a gun being pointed at his head. Looking up at the owner he found it was Diana. "Hey there," she smiled. Suddenly, the rest of the team busted through the ceiling windows. Both Sarah and her lover went screaming as glass fell onto their bed and went into their hair. They began to run from the precops when two grabbed them. Anderton stared Howard in the eyes, "Mr. Marks, you're under arrest for—"

But breaking free of his grasp Howard began to run for the stairs. "Knott," Anderton called out. The officer obeyed and caught the future murderer and threw him on the bed. Pinning him down Anderton took a spyder from his belt and scanned Howard's retina. "Positive for Howard Marks."

Frozen, all Howard could do is gape. Looking out the window he saw the Dispenser. Why me? His mind screamed, why couldn't it be someone else?

"Mr. Marks, by mandate of the District of Columbia Precrime Division, I'm placing you under arrest for the future murder of Sarah Marks and Donald Doobin that was to take place today, April 22, at oh-eight hundred hours, four minutes—"

"What?" Sarah screamed as she was forced out of the room along with Donald.

"I didn't do anything!" Howard pleaded, "Sarah!"

Anderton looked over at Fletcher who had brought out something that looked rather like headphones. "Give the man his hat," he said.

The other officers began to shave Howard's head and he watched as his dark brown hair fell in clumps on the floor. He watched Fletcher near him in horror. "Oh God! Don't put the halo on me!" Fletcher continued forward like death, unflinching, expressionless. And then he raised it over the future murderer's head as the criminal screamed:

"I wasn't going to do it! I wasn't going to hurt her! I just wanted to scare her!"

Fletcher suddenly gave a small smirk looking at him with his cold blue eyes. He placed the halo onto the man's head and he soon went into a convulsive shock, his eyes rolling white into his head as he finally went limp.

-----------------

Witwer watched as the Howard Marks murder repeated itself on the prevision screen. He didn't understand it. Didn't they make it in time? "I thought," He said, "they stopped the murder—"

Looking over at the young Fed agent Jad paused the image of Howard Marks stabbing his wife, "That's just an echo."—He smiled—"Precog déjà vu if you will. Some of the really bad ones, the Precogs see over and over again. Wally, erase the incoming." With a move of Wally's hand on his workstation the image disappeared and everything went blank. Looking over at the precogs in their tank Witwer watched as the female stopped her shaking and rolled over into the milk.

-----------------

Walking into the bathroom Anderton turned off the bathtub water just before it flowed over. Diana looked over rather sadly at Sarah Marks as she reentered the bedroom screaming for her husband. Seeing him there on the floor, limp but not lifeless, she brought a hand up to her mouth and her eyes began to water. "Oh no," She muttered to herself, "Howard…"

The tears grew and she began to cry uncontrollably. Hugging herself she backed up to a wall and when she hit it, she slowly sunk down to the ground. "It's all my fault," she wept, "It's all my fault…Howard…" Diana wished she could've given Sarah some comforting words, but it was true. It was her fault that Howard was going to be in jail. "Diana," She heard the voice of Anderton call out to her. She turned and saw that everyone was packed and ready to go in the Dispenser except for her. Looking back at Sarah she said the most comforting thing that she could think of at the moment, "I'm sorry Sarah."

------------------

Changing from her uniform to some more comfortable clothes Diana exited the suit up room. Well, another victory for Precrime, she thought. But something made her feet stop moving. Her mind flashed to Sarah's face, all blotchy and red from crying. Could they really call that a victory? Tearing away a family like that? Howard was right, he had committed no crime. So was it right to sentence him to the Department of Containment? If he were given the chance, would he have changed his mind? And then maybe they could've just given him a warning, and keep a close eye on him. But no, they have to go and arrest him.

Maybe this whole Precrime mess wasn't as good as she thought it was. She tightly closed her eyes; her hand began to slightly quiver. She took a deep breath and dismissed a disturbing thought that had just entered her mind. Her body relaxed. And suddenly she felt a hand plop down on her shoulder. Out of shock and reflex she spun around and grabbing the wrist she twisted the arm in an uncomfortable position. The person she had a hold on winced slightly and gave a small smile, "Hello Diana."

Quickly letting go she backed away recognizing the voice, "Oh! I'm sorry Danny! I didn't recognize you!" Stretching his arm he winced again, "I figured that much."

"Sorry, it's just that, you don't sneak around people like that."

Running his hand through his dark hair Witwer replied shruggingly, "Hey, that's my job."

"So, what're you doing here?"

"I was wondering if you could show me around."

She frowned, trying to see if there was a secret message between the lines, "But, haven't you already seen everything?"

Witwer walked closer to her, "Everything except for one of the most important rooms in this building."

Diana slightly smiled, "Oh no, no one is authorized to enter the Temple—"

"I'm not talking about the Temple. I'm talking about the Department of Containment."

-----------------

Walking down a ramp Witwer soon saw the door stating: the Department of Containment. There was the faint sound of an organ playing. The music was classical, it seemed soothing. He began to walk forward when his retinas were EYEdentiscanned and a mechanical voice said, "Not cleared for access." Diana gently pushed him away and when she was scanned the doors opened and the voice announced, "EYEdent: Diana Warren approved for entry." Looking back with a smirk she motioned for Witwer to follow.

Pulling back a curtain they entered what looked like a living space consisting of a bed, a stove, and a fridge…and not to mention a huge pipe organ. The music seemed to reverberate off the walls giving it a professional sound but obviously the man playing it was making it up as he went. Diana walked over to the man in the wheel chair tapping him on the shoulder. The music stopped abruptly with him dropping both hands onto all the keys in reach. Witwer winced at the horrible sound. The man spun around, "Hoo boy! You scared me, Diana."

"Sorry," she replied, "you the sentry?"

The man nodded, "Yes Mam. I'm Gideon."—He pointed to the organ—"The music relaxes the prisoners."

Starting up his electric wheelchair he began to roll over to the control area, "I don't ever see any of you precops down here, I'm not in trouble am I?"

"No, you're not in trouble. It's just the Inspector from the Fed is here and he wanted to see this."

"Oh," Gideon gave a rather grimy smile turning to Witwer, "That explains why I don't recognize you. But, uh, didn't we schedule—"

Winking he introduced himself, "It's ok. Danny Witwer. Gum?"

Gideon nodded and took a stick, "Thanks."

"Can I see the prisoners?" He asked.

Gideon smiled, "For that my friend, we go for a ride."

The three of them moved onto a platform that stretched out from his apartment and after pressing some buttons all the prisoners began to rise up from the ground in their containment with the metal halos on their head. The platform spun around showing how the prisoners covered almost every inch of the giant area. Diana watched as the long glass tubes with the prevision of the murder in front of each criminal—well, future criminals—kept on rising, even higher than the platform.

"My God, there's so many." She said shocked.

"And to think," Gideon said, "they'd all be out there killing people if it wasn't for you."

Passing one prisoner she saw the name John Doe. "Hold on a minute."

Witwer glanced over at her. She continued, "Can I look at this guy?"

"Ah, the old Anne Lively case," Gideon said with a rather pleasant tone, "A golden oldie this one is. The first case of Precrime all together."

Diana gave a slight sad chuckle, "Well waddaya know."

The small holo screen played the prevision over and over. She leaned forward and looked at the images with a tender smile. Frowning Witwer watched as she reached out her hand and touched the screen as the face of Anne Lively appeared. She turned to Gideon, "Can you show us where she is now?"

He began typing on his computer and then sat back as the information popped up. "Huh. How ironic…" he said.

"What?"

He turned the screen where both Witwer and Diana could see. MISSING.

"Must be a glitch in a system," he muttered to himself.

"What was that?" Witwer inquired.

"Nothing," Gideon smiled, he couldn't let the Inspector know that there was something wrong. Lamar would have his head if he ended the Precrime operation right before the voting, "Anyways, it's late and you kids better get home."

-----------------

Exiting the Department of Containment Diana began to walk off when she heard Witwer call her name. She turned around, "Yes?"

"Would you mind if I took you home?" Witwer asked.

She stood there for a moment, tossing the idea in her head. Looking into his eyes she noticed that the cockiness and arrogance that they usually showed had faded away into a softer, gentler look. Her face broke into a smile. "Sure."

----------------

It was rather silent for a few minutes as Diana rode with Witwer in the maglev car. Then, Witwer looked over at her and asked, "Why'd you show such concern when you saw that Anne Lively case?"

She slowly looked up from the ground, "Well, a few years ago, my mother was murdered and, that's what got me to join Precrime. So, I guess it kinda hits me in the heart when I see another case like that."

"But, didn't the precops stop Anne from being murdered?"

Diana was silent for a moment, as if the question was too tough. "Well…yeah. Just, seeing it reminds me about it."

Taking out a necklace under his suit Diana recognized the cross as a rosary. Witwer began caressing it, "I know how it feels, to lose a relative like that."

She gave him an inquiring glance.

"My father was a preacher. He was shot and killed when I was fifteen on the steps of our church in Dublin. How'd your mother die?"

Diana was silent again, she looked away. Witwer looked at her concerned. Tenderly kissing his rosary he tucked it under his suit and reached over to her and placed his hand on hers. She slightly looked over, just enough to see his contact with her. The trail of a tear shined slightly on her cheek as the dim light caught onto it. Witwer tightened his hand where he was holding hers now, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to hurt you."

Sniffing Diana wiped her eyes with her free hand, "It's ok. She left the house one day when I was about nineteen and…and never returned."

There was silence in that moment, as Witwer held Diana's eyes in his. He then pulled a small packet out of his pocket. "Gum?"

She chuckled taking a piece, "Either you have a large pack of gum or you're constantly buying that stuff. You an addict or something?"

He smiled taking a piece for himself, "No. It's just my way of getting to know people." Then realizing that they were still holding hands he quickly let go. "Oh yeah," She said quietly looking away hiding her blushing face. They both smiled.

----------------

Pulling into the entrance to her house Diana began to unbuckle from her seat. "So, is this where you live?" She laughed at Witwer's rather stupid question. "Yeah, and then John lives right next to me." He nodded thoughtfully. "You two are pretty good friends aren't you?"

"Yes, I joined the team about a year after him. We've been able to relate to each other real well. John's a nice guy. Take it easy on him, k?"

He shrugged, "Sure."

There was once again, silence. But in this silence Witwer heard the soft mutter of a child's voice from the room right next to hers, Anderton's room. "What's that?" He asked. "Oh, a lot of times at night John will watch old home movies. He lost his son, you know."

"How'd it happen?" He frowned, though behind that his wheels were turning, absorbing as much information as he could get.

"Kidnapped."

He shook his head thoughtfully, then brought his focus back to Diana.

"Well, if my interrogation is through," She smiled breaking the silence. "I'd like to head on in and get some sleep."

"Oh! Yeah," his thick eyebrows rose as he seemed to return from his thoughts and waved his hands motioning for her to go on, "I'm sorry it's just…"—Witwer stopped himself from finishing the sentence, pausing for a moment until he found an alternative answer—"I'll see you tomorrow."

Giving a puzzled smile she replied, "You too."

She began to walk into her house when she turned around, "Oh and Danny, don't bother John this late if that's what you're thinking. He's been going through some rough times with the loss of his son and his wife divorcing him. There are some lines that shouldn't be crossed."

As she said that, Witwer sensed that she didn't mean just John's private life should be left alone, but hers as well. There are some lines that shouldn't be crossed, the words repeated in his head. What's she got to hide? Smiling warmly at him she turned and entered her home. Witwer smiled also. And then, if he wasn't mistaken; when he began to place the maglev car in reverse he heard the muffled voice of Anderton's son from his apartment. It was tough to make out the words but it sounded like, "Gotta keep runnin'."