I couldn't decide whether to start this or continue on with my season (if anybody remembers what was going on with that). But a friend of mine, Sklyer-A-Teloiv, gave me a push toward this story. Hope you guys like it. Enjoy!

...And they say unto her, Woman, why weepest thou?

She said unto them, Because they have taken my Lord, and I know not where they have laid him.

St. John 20:13

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Chapter One

The Silent

Suspects are armed and extremely dangerous. All units, be advised suspects have taken hostages in the number of twenty-five to thirty; approach with extreme caution. The voices over the radio cackled with orders and directions. All HRT personnel are ordered to maintain distance until the order to advance has been confirmed. An HRT (Hostage Rescue Team) sniper on a far off rooftop took careful aim at one of the masked terrorists within the five star hotel they'd taken over.

"SHOTS FIRED!! SHOTS FIRED! Hostages are down, agent is down! The order to strike has been confirmed!" Pandemonium raged through the impossibly stressful situation. The hotel lobby swarmed with Kevlar clad special response teams. At once they were met with a hail of machine gun fire and the piercing screams of the hostages who were planted to the ground. Two of them would never get back up.

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Richard Grayson rolled over onto his back with a prolonged sigh as he slowly came out of a dream, a dream which recalled the last terrible seconds of a hostage situation. He slowly brought his eyes open and his plain white ceiling came into view. His first and foremost desire was to simply turn back on his side and doze off, preferably for the rest of his life. Unfortunately he was well aware of the way his body dealt with waking up and there was no way he was getting back to sleep. Richard stole a glance at the clock off to his right; it was ten past eight in the morning. His days of getting up at four in the morning and exercising for two hours had long been over but not due to any form of laziness. With a tired groan Richard sat up off the side of his bed where he remained somewhat stiff. For the past four years it has been the same deal for Richard, today didn't look any different. He didn't feel he could prolong his day any longer and reached for a cane he had propped up against the night stand. Sitting atop the nightstand was a framed picture of himself but also accompanied by a woman and young boy, yet Richard sat alone this morning.

As he pulled it toward him he thought he saw something outside his window in the distance out by the tree line. After not seeing the sight for some time Richard decided that he was still semi asleep and dismissed it just as quickly. Rising to his feet Richard walked toward the bathroom with the support of his cane. He splashed a good helping of cold water on his face, which usually did a well enough job of waking him further. He then found himself examining the few bags under his eyes.

"We're both wasting our time," he said to his reflection after a sigh. The usual routine of a shower and then breakfast was over and done with soon enough. As Richard began making his way out the door he scooped up his wallet, cell phone, holstered Glock, and his FBI badge. The latter of that list was tucked within the inside breast pocket of his jacket. On his way out he pulled his coat around him then slung a black bag across his shoulder.

J. EDGAR HOOVER BUILDING……………

The sight of Richard hobbling into the building on his cane had become a common sight to everyone, but more importantly to security. Procedure dictated they check all ID but one look was all that needed to confirm it was Richard Grayson. The elevator doors parted allowing him to enter his floor and make his way toward his desk. Another agent passing in the opposite direction nodded toward him.

"Morning Dick."

"Bite me." He left the agent quote taken aback but then he shrugged as though telling himself he should've known better. Richard finally reached his desk and set his bag down in his chair. Across from sat another agent who was quite big not mostly muscle. He turned his balding head up at Richard and cleared his throat.

"Morning, and you better not say 'bite me' to me man."

"Wouldn't dream of it Vic," said Richard. "But if partners can't exchange some slight insults here and there what kind of uncivilized country have we become?" Victor shook his head with a grin. Richard picked up a coffee cup and began making his way over to the lounge. "By the way, you can bite me." Victor shot a look toward his back but shrugged it off. 'Just Dick being a dick.' Richard returned a moment later with a steaming cup in one hand. His partner handed him a rather thick folder.

"While you were out." Richard took it and after opening the folder found it contained news that was far from welcomed. He read the report with a grimace.

"The Silent."

"He struck again last night; Dulles International Airport it's about a forty minuet drive from here in Chantilly Virgin-"

"I know where it is," cut in Richard irritably. He returned his attention back to the file. "Do we know what time it occurred?"

"A few passengers looking for their terminal found him early this morning. Local police estimated it happened around three." Richard looked at him with a semi-confused stare.

"Around three? You know arbitrary numbers went out style about ten years ago. Three in the morning, that happen to be when their captain refills their supply of bear claws?" Victory suppressed a chuckle. "Come on, let's take a drive."
"I was wondering when we'd get going. They're waiting for us to have a look before their forensics team cleans it out. We should get going only I'll meet you down there man I've got some stuff I gotta drop by HR."

"Fine whatever," replied Richard as he limped back toward the elevator. He tightened his grip on his cane and pressed the button. As he waited he was dimly aware that he was currently being stalked.

"Agent Grayson." He didn't even look, that voice could only belong to one person and he groaned audibly at hearing it. Quickly he abounded the elevator and attempted to use another down the hall. As fast as his crippled leg would allow Richard moved about the cubicles and desks in an attempt to evade his pursuer. However as he rounded a corner he came face to face with a young dark haired girl who looked slightly miffed at his avoidance of her.

"Doctor Roth!" He said as though he was actually happy to see her. "I've been looking all over for you."

"I'll bet you have," she replied skeptically. He smiled slyly down at her then walked on. She turned and walked alongside him without difficulty of keeping up. "You missed our last two appointments."

"Skipped is more like it."

"My point exactly." She turned to one side as she walked to allow someone else to pass them by. "Richard you can't avoid me forever its bureau policy that you see me at least twice a month."

"And Dear Old Abby said Labor Day meant you had to cook a duck for your cheating spouse. You know if I'd known you had joined the club of inventing rules on certain days I'd have helped you celebrate." They reached the set of elevators again where upon he pressed the down button. "Would've made you duck."

"You're a terrible chef," she said with crossed arms.

"Which is why it would have been more of an insult." She rolled her eyes.

"You really don't know how lucky you are."

"Yup, that's me….mister lottery winner."

"I'm serious!" She said turning to him. "Kitten Moth hasn't forgotten that little thing…." He raised his eyebrows. "You know….what you did." Richard however remained thoroughly ambivalent.

"You know I find it so weird that there's a Dr. Roth and a Dr. Moth. And they both happen to 'quack' doctors. Its like there's a rato race to see who can find the most nutjobs." The elevator finally came, much to his comfort. He stepped inside but just as the doors were sliding shut Dr. Roth impeded their progress and forced them back open. "No shrinks allowed Rachael."

"Richard please," she said imploringly. She stole a glance down at his leg. "You're not getting better like they said you would. Dr. Moth is going to use everything she can get as ammunition against you and the Assistant Director, let's face it, isn't a big fan of yours either."

"Good thing he's got a boss too," said Richard carelessly. He shrugged and pressed the lobby button. "Who cares; I've got Vic, I've got Logan, and I've got you." She sent a soft smile his way. Richard then shoved her hand off the door with the tip of his cane and the doors closed between them.

DULLES INTERNATIONAL…………..

Upon reaching the airport both agents stepped out of Victor's car. Before he managed the task of making it to the FBI Victor Stone had been quite the mechanic. His car was custom built with many of his own modifications, some only partially legal. As they walked through the parking lot Victor stole a glance at his partner.

"So about this person you keep seeing."

"What person?" asked Richard curtly.

"You know, you told me last week you think you started seeing someone walking around in the forest behind your house." Richard shifted his weight to his good leg as he walked though again felt the pain in his limping right.

"You said anything to anyone else?"

"No," replied Victor cautiously. "I'm just curious. Did you meet them-him-her-it?"

"I've convinced myself that there isn't anyone prowling around my property, I was just seeing things."

"So were you just seeing things the last three times?"

"I'm getting rather bored with this conversation Vic." His partner put his hands up defensively. He knew from experience that people who pushed too hard with Richard these days usually ended being hit by a "cane-shaped" object. Normal airport activities had been suspended until the crime scene had been fully examined and cleaned away. Richard and Victor approached an escalator walled off by police tape. They were quickly interrupted by a uniform on guard.

"I'm sorry you can't go down there."

"Yes we can," said Richard brandishing his badge as he pushed past the police officer. Victor shot Richard's back a reproachful look and brought out his own badge.

"I'm special agent Victor Stone, that's special agent Richard Grayson we're with FBI."

"I figured." Richard made out the sounds of Victor identifying them to the uniform and then exchanging some choice words as he slowly descended the escalator. He reached the lower floor and off to the right at the security desk was the unfortunate victim. He lay on the floor with numerous number marked cards around him. The most noticable feature of this scene was the giant "S" merged with a lower case "t" painted on the wall nearby. Victor promptly joined him.

"They found him leaning forward against the counter like he was taking a nap." Richard stared down at the corpse with an emotionless frown. "None of the other guards heard or saw anything plus there's the mark, they're gonna file this as a confirmed Silent attack."

"Only problem is it wasn't him," said Richard slowly kneeling down.

"How do you know?"

"The Silent is a neat freak; before he leaves the scene he douses the whole place with ammonia, vacuums the floor, he even clips and cleans his victim's nails." Using the handle of his cane Richard carefully lifted the dead guard's hand. "This guy's nails are just as long and gross as ever."

"Maybe he just forgot?" Both Richard and Victor both looked around and found the uniform.

Richard set the man's hand back down and staggered back to his feet. "Doubtful. Who are you?" He walked around the desk to look around one some more.

"Sergeant Chad Willis, and my first run in with the 'feds' is just like the other guys said it would be." They ignored the commetnt while Victor caught a glance at a surveillance camera above head.

"You check the footage from that?" he asked pointing up at the camera.

"Not just yet, we've been having some trouble with the man who's in charge of video surveillance. Lemark Benson can be a difficult man."

"How so?" Richard abandoned the scene and stood beside Victor.

"Well he's agoraphobic, he's afraid of leaving his home for any reason and never hardly let's anybody inn. I'm never even allowed inside. He was hired to work here and they allow him to literally live in the security office, gets all his mail and groceries delivered to him."

"So you're saying he never leaves that office?" asked Victor incredulously.

"Not in the twenty-two years since he moved in." Richard gave him an impatient nod and Willis led them back up the escalator. He took little notice that their quick strides made it difficult for Richard to keep up. "You know as terrible as it is that poor guy's death did add a little more excitement to my job."

"You don't have Pac-Man on your phone?" asked Richard looking off in another direction. Willis chose not to dwell on Richard's endlessly irreverent attitude.

"You know how it is; sitting around here all the time with nothing but the automated PA droning Passengers and Visitors in the airport terminal are not to leave baggage unattended." They stopped just outside the door to Benson's office/home. "Weeks after 9/11 things were edgy and people were constantly on the alert. Now….its like I'm the only one who cares around here."

Richard rolled his eyes "Boo hoo, can you open this door already." Victor sent Willis and apologetic look but agreed with his partner nonetheless. Willis knocked a few times on the door.

"Benson, it's me again." Not surprising they received no answer from the airport's recluse. "Look sorry to bother you but the FBI's here, they need a word with you." They waited silently but no words of response floated through the door. Willis then removed a set of keys from his pocket and soon he had the door open. As they walked in they were met with pitch black. They stumbled about in the office, sometimes knocking around pieces of furniture they would normally have seen right in front of them. Suddenly their eyes were momentarily blinded by a surge of lights coming to life. They looked around found Willis had flicked on a swift hidden behind a curtain. Now with the benefit of being able to see they searched for their quarry. Victor walked around an open doorway leading to a small bedroom and came to a halt.

"Dick, you might wanna see this." Richard expertly navigated the room. He and Willis came up behind Victor; they saw an older man, probably in his sixties, lying on the floor with a small pool of blood collecting near his head.

"Make the call, "said Richard. "Our single homicide just became a double."

Later that evening Richard found himself back at home, continuing his cycle of just living. He let TV continue its interminable monologue of programs while he sat looking out the window with a glass of amber liquid in hand. As he drank he stared aimlessly at a photo of the same two people he had on his nightstand, only this picture contained just the two of them. His drink/stare became interrupted by the phone ringing. It was his habit to allow it to ring to the very last time before his machine would pick up, hoping whoever it was would simply grow impatient and just hang up. Finally however he did answer.

"Hello?"

"Richard?" He relaxed though was still a little annoyed at the voice.

"Rachael, are you stalking me?" he could tell she had grinned and rolled her eyes. "If I look out my window am I going to see you up in a tree with a pair of binoculars or something?"

"I just wanted to ask when you were free."

"For what?"

"You know what; we need to make up for those two appointments you 'missed'. My schedule is open all this week except tomorrow. How about you?" Richard darted his eyes about. He felt wholeheartly determined not to be suckered into an hour of having to share his so-called 'feelings'.

"Oh wouldn't you know, the only day I'm free is tomorrow. New set of murders on my hand, really really busy. Darn shame isn't it." He could've then sworn he heard her snicker on her end.

"Actually it isn't, see I lied I cleared my entire calendar. I'm glad to hear you're free tomorrow." There was definite triumph in her voice. Richard closed his eyes as he knew he'd been tricked. "My office, between two and two-thirty and Richard…..wear a tie." She hung up leaving Richard quite beside himself. His desire to dwell on the upcoming session was forgotten however when he saw something outside. He staggered closer to the window and indeed he saw a far off figure moving back into the tree line. Quickly he swiped up his cane and bolted out the backdoor. He hardly took notice of the fact that his feet were getting numb from the cold dew on the grass, he had a mission to accomplish: find out who the hell it was behind his house. Richard saw the figure dart behind from behind a tree.

"HEY!" Whoever it was they obviously heard him because they stopped where they stood. Richard slowed to a halt using his cane for balance; his hard breathing coupled with the effects of his drink blurred his vision somewhat. He squinted his eyes to get a glimpse of whoever it was. It was fortunate that the moon was at its peak that night or he might have been able to make out anything. However tonight what he saw he could not believe. He now saw from the long red hair and, for lack of a better term, "features" that it was a girl. She slowly turned and they looked at each other. Both dared not move, perhaps hoping that the lack of movement would result in them becoming invisible. Richard suddenly felt a painful jerk in his right leg and he reflexively stepped forward. The girl ahead of him immediately dashed out of sight.

"NO! Wait!" But she was gone. He winced from the pain and took one more scan of the woods before limping back to his home.

Just in case you think this might sound a little boring now, trust me I'm sure it will get much better as it goes on. Just give it a chance. Laters! Review wont ya. ;)