AN: Alright! Got a review: so I decided to post the last of my pre-written-four-years-ago chapters. Special shout out to bayumlikedayum, whose review definitely put a smile on my face. (And I love the screen name, by the way.)

I had never finished this chapter way back when I started, so I composed an ending to it a few days ago. Not sure if I managed to keep the same voice I had 4 years ago, but hey. Can you spot the transition?

Haha, that being said, who knows when the next update shall come? Slipping into my old tone of voice (it's not that different, to be honest. A little more mellow now, perhaps) might prove a challenge I am willing to conquer.

Enough blathering, on with the show!


Griffin did not abandon Ari on the trip back to her house the next day. (She had slept on the old couch.) They caught a bus; Griffin paid, of course. Also, the one time he did try to leave- "I'm going to the bathroom" she had looked up and narrowed her eyes and he chose not to even try to Jump. She'd Pursue him in a flash. That's what she began to call her Jumping, since it appeared she could not Jump herself. She could only Pursue through other Jumper's Jump scars.

After what seemed like centuries they arrived to the target city and they got in a taxi for the rest of the ride to her home. Nothing happened, everything was normal. A very mundane sort of adventure, Ari thought as she stole a glance at Griffin after getting into the house. (To her embarrassment, the backdoor had been left unlocked from when she had taken out the garbage.)

"I'll wash your clothes. You can come by later to pick 'em up," she told him as he gazed around her living room. She almost thought he'd refuse, then without another word he was gone. Ari sighed, and went upstairs to do the laundry, take a shower, and change her clothes.

She had opted for a comfortable stretchy form-fitting tee with her tan cargo capris, putting her cell- 2 missed text messages- into her pocket, and putting her wallet in the other. That felt so much more natural, her phone and wallet actually being on her person. She tried halfhearted to straighten up her room, and failed miserably. How was she going to explain this to her parents? 'Oh yeah, Mom, this teleporter guy, calls himself a Jumper, the pressure from his Jump, it ruined my room. Totally exploded. Then I found out I could Pursue him, then spent the night in his Lair. Did I mention he was a young adult male?' Mm-hmm, that would work like a charm.

The doorbell rang, and with a helpless look around her cluttered, busted room, she made her way downstairs, past the tan walls to look through the peep hole of the front door directly in front of the stairs. A guy in a suit stood there, hair greased to the side, a severe strictness to be seen just from his posture. Leaving the top latch on, she opened the door cautiously. "Yes?"

"Arianna Hazel Jones?" He addressed her and went on after she nodded. "I'm an official, might I come in?" It was not a question, it was an order. And after he actually showed his badge- she inspected it and everything- she had no choice but to let him in. "You can call me Mr. Stillman. I'm here regarding a strange business. Does the name Griffin O'Connel mean anything to you?"

Well, duh, it meant something to her! But she kept her face neutral as she denied it completely. This guy was bad news, she could tell. Stillman closed the door behind them, leaving them alone on the carpet by the front door. Her neutrality changed abruptly when he pulled a gun from the jacket of his suit, cleaning it intently with a cloth from the same pocket. Ari swallowed apprehensively. Oh, crap, what had she gotten herself into?

"Do not lie to me, I have several key witnesses' watch you appear and disappear in the vicinity of the Grand Canyon several times. But I could forget all of that if you make the right choice on this proposition I'm about to make to you."

"I'm listening," she tore her eyes from the gun to look at the man's face. She was stalling for time; she needed to make an escape plan. Running was not an option; she would get shot for sure…Where had Griffin Jumped earlier? It had been about thirty, forty-five minutes; the scar will probably not be around…It was worth a shot though. "Come…come into the kitchen, where we can sit down," she tried, that was where they were wasn't it? Or was he in the family room while she was in the kitchen locking the back door?

"I'm sure here is just fine, Miss Jones." He stared at her icily suspecting she was up to something. Okay, she thought, that plan was shot. "Straight to the point, then. I want you to work for me." She gaped at him before closing her mouth quickly. From the pictures and papers Griffin left about his Lair, she could tell men were not only after him to kill, he was after them.

"And why would I do that? And what would I even do?" Ari did not, in any way, shape, or form, want to work for this guy. The buzzer for the dryer went off but the two stiff people downstairs ignored it. In the back of Ari's head, a small connection was made, 'his clothes…' but she didn't dwell on it. She had other problems.

"I've noticed your uncanny ability to travel through the Jump scars left behind and I want to harness that for my own gain. You could travel everywhere they do, alert me, and I could…take out the trash, so to speak."

Ari looked at him disgustedly. What a horrible, despicable man. There was no way in hell she would ever even consider the idea of working for a slime ball like him. But that didn't help her now. "And how would I contact you?" she asked, fiddling with a loose seam on her shirt, trying to play along. He had to think she was considering his proposition or else… She didn't want to think about the consequences. (A thought floated through her head anyway. Iron Maidens weren't used anymore, right?)

He held up a phone he had retrieved from the inside of his jacket. Giving her a smile coated in oil, he sneered, "You do know how to use a phone, don't you?" His condescending tone did nothing for Ari's temper and she didn't bother hiding her responding glare from him. "And people say children are good with technology these days?" Stillman continued, clearly enjoying his superiority.

"But what if—…" Ari started, before swiftly being cut off.

"Stop this stalling at once, Miss Jones." Stillman's voice cracked like a whip, effectively slicing any of Ari's responses instantly. "I am not some village idiot. And there is no point in denying the inevitable. You either are working for me, or you cease to be of any use to me. And I do not keep unneeded objects when they can be thrown. away."

Ari H. Jones took a step back unintentionally, her stomach tensed with fear. She was sure she was a sight to see at this moment. Brunette hair, darker than normal from being damp, already beginning to curl slightly. Pale skin from lack of any real outdoor activities, eyes akin to saucers when she realized just how deep she seemed to be in. And a bit vainly she wondered, was she going to die looking like this? Were the coroners going to tsk, and shake their heads once they saw her? Couldn't she have at least straightened her hair for once? She shook her head, as though trying to physically remove these thoughts from her head. Automatically Ari internally scolded herself for being such a girl. At this point her back had pressed against the railing of the stairs behind her.

"Miss Jones," Her name uttered by that creepazoid held so much. A promise, a threat; they seemed to have bled into the same thing. It was accompanied by a cold smile, as though he had hoped she would decline his offer. Make my day, that smile seemed to say. And Ari was running out of options. She wasn't known for strategy, let alone thinking of escape routes on the fly.

That was when her mind was made up. She straightened her back, and opened her mouth to give an answer. But it was shut again almost immediately with an audible snap when a voice tore through the tense silence of her house.

"Anna! Where are my damn clothes?"