A/N: The last chapter was way short, I realize, but it was more of an introduction than an actual chapter. Also, as you'll probably realize, chapters from Giffin's POV are in third person, and ones from Jack's are in first. It's a new style I'm giving a test run.

BTW: Griffin is twenty-four, and Jack's nineteen, in case anyone missed that. In my personal opinion, it isn't too big of an age gap, since Jack's a legal adult.

Chapter Two

Griffin

Griffin was pissed at David—nothing new. In fact, 'pissed' is something of an understatement. They were supposed to be planning another strike at the Paladins—with Roland dead, there was a new head honcho attempting to fill his shoes, and while this one wasn't even close to as dangerous as Roland had been, he was catching up quickly. But no, David didn't care that this was their imminent demise they were trying to prevent; he was out on a date. With his little girlfriend. There were some times when Griffin wished that he'd been able to blow Roland to high heaven like he'd wanted to, before David got in the way—a fact which Griffin had taken a year to get over and agree to work with him again. It wasn't that he had anything personal against Millie, not exactly; and he'd never admit to being jealous, not in a million years. But she was the wrench in the works—it was almost impossible to get David to do anything productive with her around. Still, she was around, and Griffin couldn't change that, damn his luck. More often, he wished that he didn't need David's help, but that was another thing he couldn't change, and this made him more angry than anything else. For eighteen years he'd been killing Paladins all on his own, no help required. But then they got smart.

The young Jumper growled to himself, kicking a wall of his lair—the cave, as David liked to call it, though rarely within Griffin's ear-shot. "I need to get outta here for a while, before I go mad," he told himself out loud, his voice carrying a thick, North England accent. So he Jumped to one of his favorite Jumpsites in London—but when he landed, he was in a completely unrecognizable apartment. And judging by the soccer poster on one of the walls, and the time, he guessed it was in America.

At the same time as Griffin had been Jumping to London, Jack had decided to take a night on the town. One of her most-frequented 'fun' Jump-sites was in front of a bar in London—where they had no stupid twenty-one drinking age. Jack didn't even need an ID to get in; with her height and figure, and young woman appearance (especially when she wore make-up), she had no trouble passing for well over twenty-one anyway, but London bars were more fun. Besides, a London accent on a guy was to die for. But when she Jumped, she was nowhere near the London bar—in fact, she thought it was a cave, though it was crammed with enough stuff that someone obviously lived here.

"What the bloody hell are you doin' here?!" she heard someone shout; Jaq whirled around, her short, died-black hair flipping into her face. She froze, her dark green eyes wide—she hadn't messed up a Jump in nearly six years, since she'd finally gotten the hang of it. What went wrong? she couldn't help but wonder, and was struck speechless—a very rare occurrence.

This was just great. First David had to skip out, and then this strange girl mucked up his Jump—make that strange, half-naked girl. Griffin did a double take. No, it can't be… he thought, shaking his head and looking again. She looks just like Susanne. But she isn't, Annie died five years ago… Besides, he knew that his Annie would never have dressed that way. This girl looked like a tramp ready to make the rounds of a few bars. She wore a black shirt that amounted to little more than a sports bra without straps—or maybe they were clear, he thought he could see them when he looked closer. Over that, she had a black, off-the-shoulder sweater, if it could be called that; it seemed to be more decorative than anything, and completely see-through. As for pants, she was wearing full-length jeans (black) to her credit, but they were incredibly low cut and tight. He was amazed that she could even move in them—and her stiletto heels only astounded him more.

Griffin realized he was staring, but it had taken only a few seconds to take in all those details, and he made a quick recovery. "I said, what the fuck are you doin' here?" he demanded again, taking a step closer and looking anywhere but her eyes. Those were what had thrown him the most—they were so deep a green they nearly looked black in the dim lighting of his lair, and big, almost doe-like. So like hers… No, Griffin, quit thinking about Annie, she's dead! This girl isn't her; no girl every will be, so get used to it!

Jack had no idea what was going on in Griffin's head—outwardly, he gave no sign of anything but pure anger, and given the table of knives within his reach, the young woman thought it prudent to snap her mouth shut and answer. "Uhm… I'm not sure…" she said, trying hard not to stutter. She couldn't help but think, Did he see me Jump? Is he a Paladin? Oh shit…

"How can ya not be sure?" Griffin asked, restraining the urge to grab the nearest knife and hurl it at her. He knew she wasn't a Paladin—he was positive she had Jumped. He was pretty sure he knew what had happened, too, and equally sure that she had no clue—but he didn't know for certain.

Oh Hell, if he's a Paladin I'm fucked anyway. What do I have to lose? "I… I really don't know," she muttered, shaking her head. "I kind've… just appeared here…"

Griffin laughed aloud—the startled expression on the woman's face almost made him laugh even harded. "I know ya Jumped, you idiot."

Fuck.

Then, Griffin disappeared right before her eyes. Jack heard the sound of a mini-fridge opening and closing, and she turned around slowly—he was there, opening a beer. "Did… did you just Jump?" Jack asked, in a tone of disbelief. All these years she'd thought she was the only one.

Griffin only laughed again, and definitely not in a pleasant manner. "You're another one, eh? Thought you were the only one, didn't ya?"

"Well… yeah," Jack replied after a moment's pause. "Why should I have thought otherwise? I've never seen another one of… us. How many are there, anyway?"

"Used to be thousands," Griffin said, taking a swig of his beer. "'Til the Paladins started gettin' to 'em. Now there're probably less than a hundred left. Impossible to tell exactly, of course…" He stopped speaking rather abruptly. He was never this open with people, especially when he didn't know them. Annie had been different, but this girl wasn't her. She just looked so damn similar that it messed with his head. "What's yer name anyway, kid?" he asked. Of course, she looked nothing like a kid, but there was no way in Hell he'd admit to it. Griffin had sworn off women when Annie died. Letting people get close to you only put them in danger, and it only gave the Paladins one more weapon to use against you. Still, he couldn't help thinking she was hot. But she was probably so riddled with STDs it wouldn't be worth the risk anyhow—judging by her clothes, at least.

"I'm Jack," she replied after a second's thought. It wasn't her whole name, and he wasn't a Paladin so it didn't really matter.

Griffin snorted softly. "Jack? Isn't that a boy's name?" he asked with a smirk.

"So, what of it? You got a better one?" Jack retorted.

"I'm Griffin."

"Oh, and being named after a magical bird is so much better."

"Touche."