AN: I began writing this a while back, and I refuse to re-write or change the plot line!! That being said, please enjoy! 3

Chapter 1

The moonlight shines down in stellar beams.

Every sense was strained. He could feel the slightest shift in the air, hear the faintest of sounds, and smell everyone in the city. He lived for these nights.

His paws gently pressed into the earth, barely softened by the night's dew. He lowered his nose to hover over the ground, catching the scent of a rabbit. Small game, but he loved a good chase. He slide his eyes back and forth, searching for his prey, and finally found it. With one quick leap, he catapulted his lean body several feet, and the chase began.

Connor woke up to the sound of Lester cooking breakfast. Well, not so much cooking, but cursing at the food as he tried to cook it. Connor grinned and left his room.

"Bugger." Lester slammed the lid on a frying pan, muffling the sound of sizzling bacon.

"No sausages today, then?"

Lester wheeled on the younger man, "No. No sausages. And no toast, either, because I found these," Lester waved a pair of gloves in Connor's face, "in the bread maker!"

"They're not socks," Connor pointed out. "And it's winter."

"So use the dryer," the older man threw the gloves at Connor's chest and turned back to the frying pan.

"We could get food on the way to ARC," Connor suggested.

"Food isn't allowed in my car, you know that."

"Well…we could wait 'til we get to work to eat it." Lester responded with a look that conveyed the statement "Absolutely not."

"Do you have any yogurt?" Connor tried. Lester rolled his eyes and opened his refrigerator. He browsed the contents for a few moments before pulling out a strawberry flavored yogurt and throwing it to Connor, who barely caught it.

It was another boring day at ARC. No anomalies, no new creatures to examine. And the artifact research could only go at a certain pace. Connor found himself leaning on a table, watching as the artifact was slowly rotated. His fingers drummed on the table top, a mere sample of how restless he was.

"You alright?" Abby walked up next to the young man.

"Yeah, I just need to do something."

"Hmm…" The two stood there for a moment. "Maybe you should take up a hobby."

"Like what?"

"Knitting?"

"I doubt I'd enjoy knitting," Connor glanced at the blond.

"How 'bout stamp collecting?"

"Yeah, such a rush there. Abby, I need something that'll get my adrenaline going."

"I know. Martial arts."

"I don't think that'd be a good idea…"

"Why not?"

"I'm just…not the fighting kind."

"Yeah…how 'bout yoga?"

"Yoga?"

"Yeah. Physical fitness, increased flexibility, stress relief. It's perfect for you!"

"It's worth a shot."

Connor and Lester arrived at the flat that evening and Lester went to the kitchen to, as he put it, "Attempt shrimp fettucine." The man failed miserably at cooking, but kept insisting on it. Admirable, but Connor's taste buds complained every day.

Connor ended up taking Abby's advice. He surfed through the TV channels until he found the fitness network, changed into sweats, and began the exercises demonstrated on the program.

"What the hell are you doing?" Lester had walked into the living room while Connor was in the middle of a down dog position.

"Oh, uh," Connor looked between his legs at an upside down Lester, "I'm doing yoga…Care to join?"

"No I would not. You look like a bloody idiot."

"I'm maintaining fitness and increasing flexibility."

"Is that what it said in the TV guide?" Lester didn't wait for a response. He turned on his heel and walked back to the kitchen. His exit was followed by a very loud "DAMN!" and an equally loud crashing and sizzling.