Turning Corners

by MMB

"What do you know about a project named Black Hole, Syd?"

Sydney nearly choked on the mouthful of dessert and reached for his water to help swallow his food before coughing to clear his throat. "Which project did you say?"

"Black Hole," Miss Parker repeated quietly. "What do you know about it?"

He glanced at Davy sitting on his right and then at Kevin and Deb sitting on his left — determined to tailor his response to something suitable for their hearing. "It was one of the more despicable projects that Raines dumped into my lap when he made me head of Psychogenics," he replied finally, a bit cryptically. "Once you gave me permission to cull through the projects being carried out by my department, I was thrilled to put an end to it at long last." He sipped at his water again. "Why?"

"It was the second of the projects mentioned by name in a phone tap I heard of." She eyed him busying himself with his dessert. "It seems somebody wants it restarted in the worst kind of way. So you knew all about it?"

Sydney sighed and finally looked up at her. Kevin cringed — he'd seen that look on his mentor's face before, and he hated it. "Yes, I not only knew of it, but worked on it for a time. Jarod did the original feasibility study and was just starting preliminary chemical research on it prior to his escape," the old psychiatrist told her truthfully. "Then somebody in the Tower got this great idea about using a mutated strain of the Ebola virus as an air-borne bio-toxin and pre-empted our work on Black Hole to another team of researchers so that we could focus on the new study." Sydney's voice told of his discomfort with the entire process. "Ultimately, they felt it necessary to bring in another Pretender named Damon to convince Jarod to finish the work on that project when he started to refuse because of his concerns about how THAT work would be used." His eyes, as Parker looked into them, were tragic, defeated. "You know how THAT turned out…"

Miss Parker was sorry she'd pulled the information out of him in such a public way. "I'm sorry, Sydney," she said, wishing she could reach down the length of the table and take away his expression of guilt and despair — a look she hadn't seen on his face since before Jarod's return. It had been years since she'd seen for herself just how deeply the wounds from what he'd been forced to do with Jarod all those years had penetrated — or how very superficially they had healed in the weeks since Jarod had returned and forgiven him. She glanced to the side and saw Kevin carefully hide a deep scowl of displeasure at the pain she'd given his mentor.

Sydney just brushed aside her apology. "Nothing to be sorry for," he told her with a resigned tone. "That was life in the Centre back then. What else do you need to know about it?"

"What do you know about the man in Psychogenics who took over the project?"

"Ziegler?" At her nod, he shrugged. "He's an excellent research psychologist dealing with the causes and effects of brainwashing and re-education. I believe he had wanted to work on the project originally, but it had been given to Jarod by the Tower. He was thrilled to be assigned to it eventually after all."

"What kind of man is he?"

Sydney blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Would he be the kind of scientist who is so dedicated to his research that he'd be willing to accept a bribe to continue a discontinued project of long standing?"

The older man thought for a while. "He IS very dedicated to any project he has on-going — and he was particularly proud of the work he was doing on Black Hole, if memory serves. One of his last reports to me claimed to be on the verge of making a breakthrough in re-education techniques — for example, helping an amnesiac re-acquire enough knowledge about a previous life that he or she could essentially pick up where they left off and resume their work, their relationships." He flicked his eyes up at Miss Parker's astonished greys and then back down at his food. "Or building a completely new identity for someone who had had their previous personality deliberately destroyed."

"So he might be tempted by the offer of financial reward to restart his research again — even though he knew that the Centre wanted no further part in it?"

Slowly Sydney nodded. "Ziegler is ambitious, Parker. He and I were both under consideration for the position of head of the department about six years ago — he didn't take being passed over very well."

"Six years is a long time to hold a grudge," she commented and then took a bite of the spice cake she had baked that afternoon that had had the entire household drooling for hours.

"To those who hold grudges, time is not an element, Parker," he pronounced somberly. "If you think that there is a chance that he would be approached to restart Black Hole, then he definitely deserves watching."

She nodded and went back to work on her spice cake. She'd talk to Sam in the morning and make SURE he had put the extra security on him in Berlin as well as have taps on his phone lines already in place by the time the man returned from his conference.

"I think I'm going to take a walk," Kevin announced as he rose, picking up his dishes to set in the sink. He'd seen the regret flash across Miss Parker's face and knew that she would be wanting to make amends when she had a little privacy. He wanted to give her that space — for Sydney's sake.

"I'll go with you," Deb chirped and rose too. Kevin paused at the door, inwardly delighted to have her company and waited for her to put her dishes in the kitchen and then let her go ahead of him.

"Mommy, can I go out to the tree house?" Davy asked as he pushed away his empty dessert plate. "I want to bring some of my comic books home with me tonight."

"Sure, baby," Miss Parker replied in a distracted tone. She waited until all three were gone. "God, I'm sorry, Syd. I didn't mean…"

"Don't worry about it, Parker," Sydney reassured her. "Going through the hardcopy archives has given me plenty of opportunities to see what I was doing with a fresh perspective and wonder what the hell I was thinking at the time…"

She rose and came around the end of the table to put her arms around Sydney's shoulders and hug him to her. "It took us both a long time to wake up to what was going on around there, Syd," she said quietly and then felt him surround her waist with an arm. "And even once we knew, we couldn't change things. It just hadn't occurred to me that you and Jarod would have been involved in that one — that it had been an on-going project for THAT long — or else I wouldn't have asked in the first place."

"How could you have known?" he asked her gently.

"I also didn't know you were still beating yourself up over what happened back then," she told him in a concerned tone. "I know you and Jarod spent a great deal of time talking everything out during those first few days he was back and staying with you — or at least I THOUGHT you'd have talked it all out by now…"

"We did, Parker, we did. But we discussed things in more general terms, not always in terms of specific projects or events. And some of this…" He sighed again. "Some of the things I've been reviewing lately have reminded me of how much I did back then for which I still can't forgive myself — for which I have yet to atone in some way. A lot of people were hurt because of what I allowed to happen — and my punishment is that I cannot allow myself to forget my own complicity in that crime."

"Syd…" She hugged him even tighter while kicking herself for stirring up this morass of regret. "Maybe you should stop going through all of that stuff…"

"I'm the best qualified to go through those documents, and you know it." His arm tightened around her waist as he smiled grimly. "Let it go, Parker. Those memories are things that I take up with myself on a regular basis and will until the day I die — regardless of whether I have the hardcopy archives to go through or not. Let it go and sit down, sweetheart. I need to talk to you about something else right now."

"OK…" She said reluctantly. Her arms tightened briefly before she let him go and dropped into the chair that Deb had abandoned. "What's on your mind?"

"Deb," he said, his chestnut eyes meeting hers, "AND Kevin."

"Oh?" Her delicately arched brows climbed her brows. "Is there a problem?"

"Not yet — and I'm trying to make sure we don't end up with one in the end. You know that storm we had this afternoon?"

She nodded. "It made the lights flicker over at the townhouse…" she said, and then added when he glanced at her in surprise, "Davy and I are cleaning the place up. When Jarod gets back with Ginger, we'll be needing a bigger place." She shook her head. "But you were saying — and Deb and Kevin?"

Sydney shook his head to dismiss the concerns that arose with the thought of her trying to actually live in a house where she had so many bad experiences and to refocus on the issue at hand. "Yes. Well, it seems Deb and Kevin spent the time up in the tree house." He gazed into her eyes and then dropped his little bomb. "Necking. The evidence when they came back into the house was unmistakable."

Miss Parker's jaw dropped for a moment, and then she recovered quickly. "You don't say," she commented, sitting back in her chair. She shot her old friend a knowing look that held the beginning of a smirk. "Deb must be making better progress with her therapy than I thought she was, then. When last I knew anything, she was still so scared of Kevin she wasn't even speaking to him."

"Things are starting to come clearer for her, yes," Sydney nodded, "and Kevin has played a role in helping her face some of her demons. My concern now is that she might rebound from her experience into forming too much of an attachment to him — or even looking to him to help her prove to herself that she can have a romantic or sexual relationship with a man. Neither of them are ready for…"

"She's had boyfriends before, Sydney," she soothed, "and nothing untoward happened — you know that." She smiled in remembrance. "But then, I also remember you and Broots both being nervous wrecks when she'd go out on dates when she was a teenager — imagining worst-case scenarios and feeding each other's anxieties about what COULD be happening to her…" She reached out a hand and took one of his in it warmly. "I swear, considering the way you behaved, if you'd been my father for real, I'd have driven you completely bald and grey long before now." The two of them chuckled warmly and wistfully, and then she sobered. "But the fact is that this sounds basically like more of the same situation. She's survived the sweaty clutches of amorous young men her age just fine — and Kevin is far more of a gentleman than most of them ever hoped to be."

"True," he agreed. "But while she seems to have made a breakthrough regarding holding herself responsible for what happened to her, she still has the typical nightmares where she essentially relives the entire episode from beginning to end on a nightly basis. AND she still has the Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome sitting in the background, just waiting for the right moment — a word, a smell, a touch — to bring her house of cards crashing down around her ears again. Now that she's conquered her fear of Kevin, she's naturally going to him as a refuge and security blanket — and he's still so enchanted by her that he's absolutely thrilled at the idea, as you can imagine. For what it's worth, I found them asleep in each other's arms on the couch last night and had to awaken them both for supper."

Parker's eyebrows did another rapid ascent while Sydney nodded sagely. "Mind you, I don't entirely disapprove — I've always held that Deb and Kevin would be good for each other — but I'm just seeing where things COULD go if a little caution isn't observed. Maybe that's being an alarmist, but we have to remember that Kevin is so inexperienced that he's likely to let her take the driver's seat in their relationship. He's likely to have let her initiate what went on up in the tree house, which is what I suspect happened — and equally likely to let her convince him to start something that might be a little more difficult to put a halt to later on. Deb's a smart girl — and she may well have decided that there's no better way to get rid of persistent and bad memories than…"

"To make new ones to take their place." The parallel between her own intent regarding moving into the townhouse where she'd lived as a child and been physically abused and Deb's possible intent regarding her own experiences was unnerving, and she shot him a sharp glance for getting her to see her own reasoning tragically misapplied.

"Exactly."

"Have you talked to Kevin about this?"

"I haven't had the chance yet," he admitted. "It will have to be a very frank and very private talk with no danger of distractions or interruptions. I figured I'd talk to him after Deb went to bed this evening. BUT…" he gazed at her intently again, "I was hoping I could convince you to have a similarly private and frank conversation with Deb — from a woman's perspective."

Miss Parker sighed. "I'll do what I can, Sydney, but she's an adult — and so is Kevin. And it IS their life…"

"I know," he grumbled. "That's what I'm afraid of."

She patted his hand with hers. "You know, it's times like these that I really do wish you had been my father, Sydney. I'd never have grown up spending so much of my life wondering if anybody could ever learn to love me. With you, there's no doubt of your affections."

His chestnut gaze rested warmly on her face. "I loved you very much in my own way back then, Parker —even if I didn't say much — and you know it," he reminded her softly. "We would never have what we have now if I hadn't."

"If it had been you, I probably wouldn't have done half of the things I did when I was younger — and you wouldn't be any more bald or grey than you are now. Most of that stuff I did to try to get Daddy to pay attention to me — and it never worked…"

"Speaking of whom…" He brought his other hand over and patted hers. "You need to tell me about this idea of yours to move into your father's old house." His expression developed a healthy dose of skepticism. "Are you sure you want to do that? You have a lot of your own bad memories firmly linked to that place…"

"Relax, Sydney." She turned fond eyes on her foster father. "I'm not going to suffer a Post-Traumatic Stress flashback, if that's what you mean," she reassured him with a smile. "I was even in Daddy's library to dust and managed not to get TOO creeped out. And when Jarod gets here, I'll have plenty of help dealing with anything that bubbles up out of the past — and two healthy and active children running through the place to exorcise any residual ghosts."

"You're sure?"

She shook her head at him. "You must have taken an extra dose of your fuss-budget pills today. You're clucking like an old mother hen tonight — first about Deb, then about Kevin, and now about me."

"You're all very important to me, Parker," he claimed with no small amount of emotion. "I care about you."

"I know, Syd," she replied, pulling her hands from his, standing and putting her arms around him again as he sat in his chair. "I love you too. Very much." She kissed his forehead and straightened, then smiled as his arms went around her again and he leaned his head into her stomach.

Lauren Mitchell sat at her kitchen table, several books spread open in front of her, taking notes on her reading. The new project that she'd been assigned to was intriguing — working on a new antibiotic that would begin to address the number of staphylococcal infections so rampant in hospitals lately. But her first efforts would be to look at the chemical make-up of the various existing upper-end antibiotics to determine where to begin her modifications. This was work she had brought home the day before — today she had browbeaten her now ever-present sweeper bodyguard to let her drive home for her briefcase. With no television in the little apartment, there was little to entertain herself with.

She knew that Hugh, the bodyguard who had appeared on Xing-Li's doorstep last night after the frantic call to Centre Security, was sitting in the living room probably bored out of his skull with the lack of any reading material designed to appeal to males. Still, his mere presence was enough to give Mitchell a chance to relax and genuinely concentrate on her reading and note taking after cleaning up the dishes from the meal she'd prepared for them both.

Hitting a wall intellectually, Mitchell stood and stretched — walking away from the data and her musings for a moment. "Can I get you a soda?" she asked her protector. "They gave me both 7-up and Pepsi…"

"No, thanks, I'm fine," was the answer as the telephone rang.

The sweeper rose and came into the tiny kitchen as Mitchell reached for the handset with a trembling hand. "Hello?"

"I can see you." The voice was ground out, but Mitchell had heard it often enough now that she recognized Stiller's tones immediately.

"I told you to leave me alone," she snarled, her face turning pale. Hugh came over and bent, and she tipped the handset so they both could hear his response.

"I see you haven't bothered to try to finish weeding your flowers. Naughty, naughty, Doctor. Don't flowers deserve respect too — or is abandoning THEM the way you operate at home too?"

Mitchell and her bodyguard stared at each other for a long moment as it slowly registered that Stiller was watching Mitchell's home — seeing the movement of the other sweepers within the house. Hugh straightened and put a finger to his lips and, reaching into his pocket for his cell phone, headed for the front door after signaling her to keep the man on the line.

"I didn't abandon them, asshole — you interrupted me." She leaned her head against her other hand weakly, shaking inside and out, but forcing her voice to be firm and unwavering.

"That's just a technicality," Stiller smoothed into her ear. "So. Have you reconsidered yet?"

"No," she told him with a heat that was mostly show, "I told you I wouldn't work on your project if my life depended upon it."

"That's just it, dear lady — your life DOES depend on it." Stiller's voice dropped in tone, becoming threatening, lethal. "Do you think I'm standing out here watching you as part of an evening's constitutional? This is a final warning, Doctor Mitchell. You have two minutes to call me back at this number and tell me you'll do as we want, or I'll be visiting you again."

"What number is that?" she asked frantically, forgetting for the moment that he wasn't outside this apartment, but rather outside her home in Blue Cove.

"555- 8732," he answered in a hiss. "Two minutes." The call disconnected.

"HUGH!" she screamed.

The sweeper barreled through her front door, cell phone still at his ear. "Yeah — it looks like he's off the line now. Keep a close eye." He took the device from his ear. "What did he tell you?"

"He gave me two minutes to change my mind before he comes at me," she shivered violently.

"You mean before he comes at a pair of sweepers pretending to be you," the big man reminded her coolly, "in a house we've wired for sound and video six ways from Sunday." He put the cell phone back to his ear. "She says he gave her two minutes, so be ready." He nodded and disconnected.

"What do I do?" she looked up at him and then started badly when there was a loud knock on her door.

"Adams, open up!" Sam's voice demanded brusquely.

Hugh moved swiftly to let his boss in. Sam surveyed the condition of their threatened scientist with a quick glance. "I heard," he told his man quickly. "I was just upstairs. I've called the Blue Cove PD — they'll have two cruisers on site at the house in just a few minutes — hopefully about the time Stiller tries to break in."

"Lauren?" Xing-Li stepped carefully through the still-open door, her eyes focused on the American woman who had spent hours with her the previous night, too frightened to move. Mitchell reached out a hand to her new friend, and the tiny Chinese woman moved quickly to sit next to her and held her hand tightly. "Is the man coming for her again?" she asked her roommate's fiancé shyly. She still was very intimidated by the man's sheer size.

"He can't get to her here, Xing-Li," Sam shook his head. "But maybe you can stay with her and help keep her calm?"

The small woman nodded and bent toward her new friend solicitously. Mitchell seemed relieved to have her friend with her and clung to the outstretched hand tightly.

"I'm heading over to the Mitchell residence," Sam announced, "Call Harrison and have him meet me there. Tell him to call Colonel Fox — we may have a prisoner for him, IF he chooses to take custody of him."

"Yes, sir," Hugh nodded compliance and pulled his phone out of his pocket again.

"Where are you going?" Mei-Chiang asked from halfway down the stairs toward the excitement in the downstairs apartment.

Sam immediately paused and turned, putting a cautious hand on his lover's arm. "Go back upstairs and finish packing, Mei. There's some Centre business I have to take care of right now." He stretched toward her on the stairs and kissed her gently. "I'll be back for you as soon as I can. Stay inside and lock the door — only let Xing-Li in."

"You will be safe?" she worried at him, clutching at his arm.

"I'll be fine," he assured her hurriedly. "Go on now." She started back up the stairs, looking over her shoulder often as he rushed away toward his car.

Kevin felt Deb slip her arm around his waist as they walked slowly down the sidewalk, and he lifted his arm and put it around her shoulder. This was wonderful, he decided — the evening air was soft and sultry, and he had Deb beside him. After a very rough time, life was starting to definitely look up. He could only hope that Miss Parker was doing a good job fixing the damage she'd made to Sydney's mood.

"Penny for your thoughts," Deb said quietly.

"Hmm? Just hoping Miss Parker is apologizing to Sydney and doing a good job," he answered honestly. "There are times…"

"What?"

He shook himself. "Nothing. I'm finding that your grandfather is a very deep person. I don't know his past very much, but I don't think he's very comfortable with some of the things he did…" He winced. "I hate what it does to him when someone reminds him…"

"That seems to be a by-product of working for the Centre," Deb observed gently. "Even my Dad has his moments when he just… closes down." She matched her steps with Kevin's slow pace. "Do you ever think about it? What you did?"

"Yeah. I try not to right now, because I have other things more important to think about, but…" Kevin's voice was resigned, "one of these days I know I'll want to go through MY work to see what I'm responsible for. I know that some of what I did ended up in the hands of bad people." He sighed. "I don't want to think about it, but one day…"

"In the meanwhile, you sure are getting the down side of life thrown at you," she said astutely. "Sydney shot, then his knee damaged, Davy and me kidnapped…"

"Yeah, but Sydney's slowly getting better — his side is much better now for him being down all the time while his knee mends, you know. And you and Davy are home again, safe and sound." His arm around her shoulder tightened. "And we're friends again. Things seem to be getting much better now."

Deb didn't reply, but merely tightened her hold around his waist. Kevin was right — the past day had seen a definite up-turn in her perception of the world. Part of that, she knew, was due to the fact that her mind had been revisiting their very pleasurable time in the tree house rather than revisiting her time of horror in another house far away. The sheer relief that she'd experienced by not constantly finding her thoughts traveling that same painful path had been astounding. And the way her heart would begin beating faster as she remembered the feelings he'd inspired with his gentle kisses… how even thinking of those feelings made her heart beat faster yet again…

Kevin lifted his head as a car drove by. It was Ikeda-sensei, on time as always to take up his post watching over Sydney's house in the night. "My sensei's here," he told Deb as he turned them both around and began heading back. "It's time to head home."

"I'll probably need to start dishes pretty soon too," Deb mused, "if Miss Parker hasn't already got them done."

"They're probably wondering where we are," he chuckled. "It isn't often you and I go off together on the spur of the moment like that…"

"They'll get used to it eventually," Deb replied with a knowing, inviting tone that had Kevin's brows rising rapidly. "I like having you all to myself, even if just for a little while."

"I like it too," he agreed, finding his voice lowering and mellowing. He was still spellbound by what had happened in the tree house that afternoon — the sensation of holding her, kissing her, was still enough to confound him. Vernon had explained the mechanics of male-female relationships to him a long time ago — but nothing in those stark, lifeless discussions had prepared him for the way his insides could begin to quiver as he relived those moments in the tree house. They would become the stuff of a whole new set of dreams, he was sure.

They made their way silently back to the house and through the front door, separating only at the last minute before the door opened. "There you are," Miss Parker said as she caught sight of the two in the midst of a quick consultation with Ikeda. "Deb, do you think I could talk to you for a moment? Privately?"

Deb cast a glance at Kevin, an action that wasn't lost on Miss Parker, and then nodded.

"Sensei?" Kevin bowed to the ninja master and then followed the man at a respectful distance as they headed for the den and the back yard beyond.

"Why don't we come in here and talk," Miss Parker gestured toward the living room, with it's piles of boxes. Deb led the way and found a place on the couch, and then had Miss Parker join her a short distance away.

"Is everything OK?" the young woman asked.

"Grandpa wanted me to talk to you for a bit," Miss Parker began uncomfortably. "It seems that he thinks that you and Kevin might have been behaving in a way that could make things difficult for you both…"

Deb blushed and she looked down at her hands. "We didn't do anything wrong," she complained in a soft voice.

"I know you didn't, sweetheart," Miss Parker soothed, reaching out for and taking one of Deb's hands in her own. "And Grandpa doesn't disapprove either, if that matters any… Neither do I, for that matter."

"Then what…" Deb was confused.

Miss Parker gazed at her surrogate daughter. When had Deb gotten so grown up? "We're just concerned, that's all. You're just starting to put yourself back together after a pretty horrible time — and I know how hard it is to live with memories that make life difficult."

"No you don't…" Deb grumbled sullenly.

"Yes. I do." Miss Parker put a gentle finger under Deb's chin and forced the girl to look up at her. "My life hasn't been a bowl of cherries, Deb. I lived most of my life having nightmares night after night. Maybe not about the same kind of horror that you just lived through, but I promise you that I've lived through enough that I know EXACTLY how hard it is."

Deb cringed. Within those grey eyes that looked straight through into her soul, she could see the same kind of pain that lurked far more out in the open in her own gaze. "I'm sorry," she said finally and kicked herself. One day she'd remember that she wasn't the only person in the world with tragedies and problems.

"I'm sorry too in a way, but in a way, it helps me understand what you're going through now — and what kinds of ideas you might have about dealing with those memories." Miss Parker took one of Deb's hands in hers. "Especially now that you've discovered that Kevin is a decent young man that you actually want to spend time with again — maybe even want to let get close to you."

Deb blushed deeply. "Is this going to be a birds and the bees talk?" she asked, deeply embarrassed.

"Only if you think you need one," Miss Parker smiled at her. Syd was right. The girl WAS smart — too smart. "Kevin is a good-looking and attractive young man, and he's so completely overwhelmed by you that he'd do just about anything you wanted him to. Am I right?"

Deb didn't have the guts to look at her in the eye anymore. "I suppose," she said, still blushing desperately.

"Then maybe you want to consider the wisdom of asking him to do things that you won't be able to walk away from later," Miss Parker told her carefully. "Young men aren't like girls, Deb — they have a limit to how far they can be aroused before they lose their ability to stop or even think straight. And Kevin is very inexperienced with girls — he won't know the signals that are telling him that his body is starting to run the show if you get him too wound up. You could get yourself in deeper trouble than you're already in – and make him feel horrible after the fact because he COULDN'T stop if you decided to say 'no' when it was too late. I know he doesn't want to hurt you, and that he has a huge crush on you. I frankly think you two are very good together — just don't tempt him too far, sweetheart. He may not be able to handle it yet, and I doubt you could either right now."

"But we were just kissing," Deb complained again. "He… I…"

"That wasn't JUST kissing, Deb, and you know it." Miss Parker's voice was certain, even though it wasn't accusing.

"But…"

"Tell me this much: do you like him?"

Deb looked up sharply. "Yes. Very much."

"How much?"

Deb blushed and looked away again. "A lot…"

"Enough that you want him to touch you… where HE touched you… to help you forget?"

Deb squirmed and blushed more deeply. Could Miss Parker read her mind? All the time she'd been walking with Kevin, feeling his arm around her shoulder, she'd been wondering…

"Enough to be thinking about letting him make love to you to wipe away ALL the bad memories at once?"

"I don't know," she admitted very softly and then looked up bravely. "Maybe." There. Let her chew on that! She wasn't a little girl to be chided like this anymore!

Yes, Miss Parker decided, somewhere along the line when she hadn't been looking, Deb had indeed grown up – enough that if she ever decided to take a man into her bed, there would be nothing anybody could do to stop her except warn her of consequences. If only she'd had somebody to warn HER before she'd embarked on a life of casual and consistently unsatisfactory sex in her youth!

"Be sure before you go there," she told the young woman in sympathetic tones. "Be very sure before you ask him into your bed or climb into his — and wait for a while if you decide that's what you want, just to make sure it IS what you want. You'd be doing more in that bed than just wiping away one set of memories with another. Besides, you remember what happened when you went home, how quickly you lost it?" Deb looked up, stricken, and nodded. "How would you feel if you lost it in the middle of making love with Kevin?"

The blue eyes widened. "No!" the young woman breathed in horror.

"Then be careful, sweetheart. You have a whole lifetime to put those horrible memories behind you — don't rush things and end up making more bad memories for yourself that will be even harder to put behind you."

"I just want him to help me feel better," Deb said softly with a crestfallen look on her face. "And he does…"

"I'm not saying stay away from him entirely, Deb," Miss Parker put out her arm and drew the young woman closer. "I don't think you could right now, nor am I saying that staying away completely would be the wisest thing to do. You've discovered that it feels good to let him kiss you, right?" Deb nodded against her shoulder. "There's nothing wrong with that, sweetheart. As a matter of fact, I think it's a good thing that you've chosen such a decent young man to trust again in that way. Just don't take it a whole lot further than kissing and necking – at least, not for a while. Take it slow, for both your sakes, OK?"

"OK," Deb agreed shakily. She rested her head against Miss Parker's shoulder and took a deep breath. No, she didn't want to lose it when she was with Kevin. But the more she thought about it, the more sure she was that one day she WOULD be with Kevin – in THAT way. He was nothing like the other boys she'd been with while growing up. Their awkward advances and groping she had tolerated – where Kevin's touch was like magic… The thought that his magic touch could erase the memory of crude and painful groping of the man who had molested her was incredibly attractive.

How far, she wondered with closed eyes, was going too far?

Stiller's eyes narrowed and he looked at his watch. Five minutes had passed – three more than he'd given the bitch in the ultimatum. He leaned over and retrieved the switchblade from the glove box and flipped it open and closed a couple of times, just for practice. The doctor was a beautiful woman – maybe he could have a little fun with her before he hurt her this time.

He climbed from the car and sprinted on silent feet across the two lawns between himself and her front porch. He listened. Not a sound came from within – and he smiled. She had probably locked herself in the bathroom, thinking THAT would keep her safe. Silly bitch!

He moved down the side of the house stealthily, and finally found what he was looking for: the bedroom window at the back of the house had been left slightly open to let in fresh night air. He used the switchblade quickly to dislodge the screen from the casement and lean it against the house on the ground, then lifted the window so that he could pull himself up and in. He tipped over the sill and did a slow somersault and roll so that he landed quietly on his feet. Flipping the wicked blade open, he began to creep toward the closed door to the rest of the house.

He didn't even get out of the bedroom. Suddenly he was caught from behind by two very powerful arms that literally picked him up bodily and spun him around, then pushed him forward onto the bed with a hard knee right in the small of his back to keep him pinned there. "Got him!" he heard bellowed into his ear, and then felt a stunning blow to his right hand, sending the switchblade skittering to the floor.

The bedroom light flared, just in time to see a man come barreling through the door with handcuffs already open and ready to snap on him. He struggled vainly to throw off whomever it was that was pushing the knee into his spine, but could get nowhere. In just another moment, the handcuffs were on his left hand, with the right being dragged behind his back and then linked tightly. At last the knee was removed – just in time for the second man to drag him to his feet – and at last he saw his attacker. The man was huge, muscular, and smiling as he pulled a cell phone from his trousers pocket and dialed.

"We got him," he barked into the little device even as the sounds of the front door bursting in broke the evening quiet.

"Blue Cove PD!" came the bellow from the front of the house.

"In here!" the big man bellowed back, then jerked hard on the cuffs as Stiller squirmed and tried to shake loose the hold these gorillas had on him before the police arrived.

Officer Donaldson followed the sound of the voice into a back bedroom and stopped short at the sight of two Centre sweepers merely holding a handcuffed man between them, waiting for him. "He's all yours," the one sweeper said in a brisk, business-like voice.

"You're under arrest," Donaldson informed the squirming and frowning man. "You have the right to remain silent – anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak with an attorney…"

"Shut up – I've heard it all before," Stiller snapped at Donaldson, then whirled on the first sweeper. "Where's the bitch?"

"Where you can't get at her," the big man grinned in satisfaction.

"Lookie what we have here!" the second sweeper crowed, picking up the open switchblade with a handkerchief and flourishing it at the police officer before putting it in a plastic bag provided by his colleague.

"Give it to my partner there," Donaldson instructed them and began dragging Stiller from the house and toward the squad car.

Sam pulled up behind the squad car just as Donaldson had inserted the sullen intruder into the back of the squad car and closed the door on him. "Got him, eh?" he asked the police office after bending and staring Stiller for a moment.

"Yup – and your men were just holding him for me, like we agreed. I take it the Centre will be filing charges?"

"Either the Centre or Doctor Mitchell herself – maybe both," Sam answered, knowing that Stiller was listening in. He saw Harrison climbing from his car and raised his voice enough to carry. "I'll have to be in touch with my boss to know exactly how we want to proceed as an organization – I'll make sure Doctor Mitchell comes down to the station tomorrow morning to make a complete statement about tonight's events. We still had the tap on her phone line – so you'll have another call to listen to."

"Take your time, Atlee," Donaldson patted Sam on the shoulder. "This bozo isn't going anywhere anytime soon."

Sam bent and smiled maliciously at the military man. "No, I don't think he is."

Sydney was waiting, propped up on his crutches in the kitchen door when Kevin finally came in from the back yard and his workout with Ikeda. The ninja took one look at the older man's face and wisely decided that his place was elsewhere. With a bow, he took himself to the front of the house.

"A word, Kevin?" Sydney beckoned with an outstretched glass of ice water, and Kevin walked forward to take the refreshment gratefully.

"Sure." He headed back into the den. "Where's Miss Parker?"

"She had to get Davy home early tonight," the psychiatrist told his protégé, moving to sit in an easy chair as a change from the daybed in which he'd spent far too much time lately. "Tomorrow's the first day of school, and he has to get up early."

"What about Deb?" Kevin leaned forward, but his friend wasn't in the kitchen – and he couldn't hear her in the front room with his sensei either.

"She's retired for the evening, I think," Sydney told him, then gestured at the recliner. "Actually, I was hoping to talk to you a little about Deb." The chestnut eyes pinned the young Pretender to his chair when he came up straighter in alarm. "And what you two were doing in the tree house this afternoon."

Kevin's blue eyes were immediately concerned. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Not as far as I know," Sydney reassured him. "I was just wondering about the status of your agreement with Cody Tyler – that you would be just friends with Deb until she was better?"

Kevin's face fell. "She said she was feeling better," he reasoned, but knew that it was a lame excuse. "I guess I was so surprised when she kissed me, that I didn't stop to think…"

"That's how it happens," Sydney told him gently, "and that's what you can't let it happen again. Deb is still far too close to a very bad experience – and even if you have no intentions of ever hurting her in that way, not thinking and letting things get out of hand could lead to all kinds of problems if you're not very careful."

"But Sydney, I would never do anything that she didn't want…"

"Kevin, that's what I'm saying. Deb doesn't know WHAT she wants – except that she wants to start feeling better about herself and feel safe in a relationship with a man again."

"She IS safe with me," the young Pretender insisted. "I'd never hurt her."

"I know that…" Sydney sighed. "What did Vernon teach you about…" His words skidded to a halt at the idea that he'd have to have a birds and bees talk with his protégé after all. "What do you know about human sexuality?" he finally asked uncomfortably.

Kevin's gaze was equally uncomfortable. "Enough to know that I wasn't given enough information at all," he said with some bitterness. "Vernon made it sound so cut and dried – boring, really, almost gross. But it isn't…" The young man's eyes softened at the memory of Deb in his arms, of kissing her… "There's so much more to it than I thought."

"That's what I was afraid of. Damn that Grey for chickening out on the more important duties!" Sydney grumbled. He looked over at his protégé sympathetically and then steeled himself for a long night of lecture, then question and answer. This was the price of mentoring a Pretender out into the real world, he reminded himself quickly. "Kevin, human sexuality has a whole lot more to it than simple physical mechanics — and that's because it is so tightly interwoven with the emotions and perceptions of each of the parties involved…"

"Do I have to go home now?" Mitchell asked Sam anxiously. "I mean, a judge could just release him on bail, and then he'd come after me…"

Sam shook his head. "For as long as you feel there is a threat, and I concur that you have good reason to feel threatened until this matter is settled, you can stay here. Perhaps you won't need Hugh in your living room for as long as Stiller is behind bars – but should Stiller actually be released, then I'll see to it that you have adequate protection until it's safe."

"What about my phone line?"

"We'll keep the tap on, just in case Stiller has a backup," Sam announced somberly, giving Mitchell reason to shudder. He noticed. "Even if he did have backup," he added reassuringly, "they still have NO idea where you are or how to get to you."

"I just want this to be over," Mitchell told him sincerely.

"I can understand that, Doctor," Sam answered sympathetically. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a business card. "If you need to call, do."

"I appreciate that, Mr. Atlee." Mitchell looked longingly at Hugh. "I just wish I could convince you to let Hugh be here one more night…"

Sam shrugged and looked over at his deputy. "Feel like camping out on a couch for another night there, Adams?" he asked, obviously leaving the decision in the big man's hands.

Hugh looked at Sam, looked at Mitchell, and then shrugged. "Might as well stick around," he announced. "All I'd be doing would be going home and watching the tube anyway…"

"You don't know how much I appreciate this," Mitchell said sincerely.

Sam started to back out of the apartment. "I have to help Mei get her stuff moved," he said with a jerk of the thumb over his shoulder, "so if you don't need me anymore…"

"I'm on top of the situation here, sir," Hugh announced and smiled at the woman he was protecting. For a scientist, she wasn't all that bad looking. "We're good to go."

Sam closed the apartment door quietly after himself and mounted the stairs to the second floor apartment two at a time. He knocked at the door and then smiled as Xing-Li answered.

"You caught the man who was after Lauren?" she asked immediately.

"Yup," he nodded with satisfaction, moving past her into the apartment and looking at the meager assortment of small boxes and one large suitcase in the middle of the floor. He looked into Mei-Chiang's face. "Is that it?"

"I'm afraid so," she replied, her face coloring slightly. "I regret to tell you that I have very little to bring to our marriage."

Sam's face broke into an easy smile. "I'm not sorry," he said truthfully. "It's a helluva lot easier on the back. Now if you were Miss Parker, I'd expect ten times this amount – just for starters!"

Mei-Chiang started slightly at the mention of her boss until she noticed that her bear of a fiancé was chuckling – giving her a bad time. Her dark eyes began to sparkle. "I can always spend my money on things other than a car," she threatened with a smile of her own, "and have you have to help me bring them home…"

Sam shot a look at Xing-Li that had the smaller woman chuckling shyly behind her hand. "Better let me out of here while I'm still ahead of the game," he stated quickly and grabbed the suitcase and the larger of the boxes.

"I can help," Xing-Li said as she picked up the three boxes that remained once Mei-Chiang had gathered four into her arms. "Just everybody be careful on the stairs."

Leaving the door open for the time being, the three carried their load down to Sam's car and carefully packed the trunk. Mei-Chiang turned and hugged her former roommate. "You will find your own place soon," she assured her Younger Sister in tearful Chinese. "Of this I'm sure."

"I wish you luck with your big American husband, Older Sister," Xing-Li kissed Mei-Chiang on the cheek. Her Older Sister looked so happy, and was nobody's fool. Xing-Li realized that at least some of her fears about the habits of American men might need re-examination. If Mei-Chiang could find an American who would treat her as gently and lovingly as this Sam had been, then perhaps there might be another American for her someday.

Mei-Chiang climbed into the front passenger seat and watched as her future husband slipped behind the wheel. Then, with a wave of his hand, Sam backed the car away from the apartment building and aimed it back down the narrow lane to the gate.

"I am going to have to get used to your leaving me to go into dangerous situations, aren't I?" she asked him quietly.

Sam glanced over at her. "From time to time, I suppose — with any luck, it will happen less and less as the business settles down and people can get back to doing what they're supposed to do." He reached out and took hold of her left hand, brought it to his lips, and then held it behind the shift level. "Don't worry so. I survived the Centre under Lyle and Raines in much more dangerous situations than I'll encounter nowadays. I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

"That is my good fortune," she said softly, as always enjoying the feeling of safety that came with his touch. "Didn't you know that being kissed by a giant economy sized bear is very famous Chinese good-luck charm?"

Sam's jaw dropped a little, and then he let out a healthy belly laugh.

Ted Fox put his tumbler of whiskey on the counter and reached for his telephone after checking his watch. Who on earth would be calling him this late? "This is Fox."

"This is Chip Harrison, Centre Security. I just thought I'd let you know that our men caught your Colonel Stiller breaking into Doctor Mitchell's residence this evening with a switchblade after calling her and threatening her with bodily harm. The police have the switchblade that he was carrying — with any luck, it will be the same one he used when he cut her earlier. And WE have the video tape taken from inside the house, which we'll be turning over to the police in the morning. I take it you'll want a copy?"

Fox shook his head. "The man's an idiot," he commented dryly, "and yes, I'll want a copy of the tape. However," he continued, "what do you want me to do?"

Harrison blinked. "Well, he IS military… Mr. Atlee told me to call you and let you know that we have him, in case you wanted to take custody…"

"Not at all," Fox said, shaking his head and thinking fast. "Having Stiller in a civilian jail for the time being works out to my advantage, actually. Getting him moved to the brig on a military base puts him too close to those with the authority and desire to spring him. Let him stew where he is for the time being — I'll talk to my contacts and try to arrange a SECURE spot for him in a military facility. What's he charged with, anyway?"

"Breaking and entering, conspiracy to commit bodily harm, assault, assault and battery, extortion — quite a shopping list."

"Good. It should be enough that his superiors that are in on this won't be able to bluff their way to getting him released on his own recognizance or into military custody without the proper paperwork being filed with JAG." And I have a friend in that department who can make sure to keep him nicely bottled up, Fox thought to himself with a satisfied smirk. "I'll be in touch tomorrow with strategy for how to handle this without blowing my investigation out of the water before it really gets started."

"I'll tell Mr. Atlee to expect to hear from you then," Harrison said brusquely and, after saying his goodbye, disconnected.

Fox put the handset back on the receiver base and walked back over to retrieve his whiskey. So we have Stiller now, he thought to himself. Interesting…

Deb lay quietly in her bed, thinking through everything that had happened that day — the long talk with Grandpa that morning that had helped her so much. Then there was the delicious time spent in the tree house with Kevin and their walk after supper, and then the sobering talk she'd had with Miss Parker. And then, still awake, she had lain there listening for footsteps up the stairs that would tell her that Kevin was retiring, but the footsteps never seemed to come. As the evening wore on and became nighttime, she finally dozed.

Hours later she awakened abruptly, her heart pounding and her breath ragged and sobbing in her throat, reaching frantically for the switch on her night lamp. Desperately she peered around her, her eyes finding and attempting to plumb every pooled shadow about the room in case that man was still lurking in the room. Her dream had brought her attacker into her temporary home yet again — his hands reaching for her, grasping at her pajamas with long, claw-like fingers. She had felt once more the warmth of his breath on her breast, the rough calluses of his fingers between her thighs, moving closer...

She couldn't be alone. She couldn't stay here…

She bolted from the bed and then paused by the door, thoroughly terrified and confused. Grandpa was all the way downstairs in the den — and to get to him, she'd have to walk through a very dark and foreboding house that had a Japanese man hidden somewhere in it. No, she couldn't go downstairs — that was too dangerous. She couldn't stay here — her dreams were right there in the room with her, just waiting for her to lay down again in exhaustion.

Hesitantly she opened the door and peeked down the short hallway, only to find that the house was completely dark. Not even the strange Japanese man that Kevin so respected was in the hallway, blocking her path. She pushed open her door and tiptoed across the hallway to tap at the guestroom door softly, then opened it.

The sound of deep, regular breathing told her that Kevin was asleep — and it was a relief just to know that he was there. Shivering as much with the chill of fear as the chill of night, she made her way to the side of the bed. "Kevin?" she whispered once, and then again. Gradually the breathing shifted, broke rhythm, and Kevin roused. "Kevin?" she called out once more.

"Hmm? Wha?" He sat up in the darkness and rubbed his eyes to try to get rid of the sleep still in them.

"I'm scared," she said in a soft whisper. "Can I stay with you?"

Kevin awakened in a hurry at the sound of the soft whisper. "Deb? You really shouldn't be here…"

"I'm scared to be alone," she answered, hugging her arms around herself desperately to try to protect herself against the trembling. "Just… let me sit and talk to you for a while…"

"What's the matter?" He pushed himself up on an elbow and found he could barely make out the shimmer of her satin pajamas in the dim light.

"Nightmare," she replied with a shudder. "Please…"

He sat up. "I can take you down to Sydney, if you want…"

"No," she shook her head. "Let him sleep. Just let me stay with you for a little while, OK? Just until…"

Kevin rubbed his short hair in an effort to rouse himself a little further. "Sydney said that it probably wouldn't be a good idea for us to meet in either your bedroom or mine," he warned carefully. "We can go down to the living room…"

"We don't have to do that — I'll sit on the end of the bed, far away from you. We won't even touch," she offered with a frantic note in her voice. "Don't send me away, Kevin, and don't leave me — please!"

At last he reached out for the lamp on his night table and turned it on, illuminating the room and his midnight caller. Her hair was loose about her back and shoulders and mussed as if she'd been sleeping. Her face wore a haunted look that was like an arrow in his heart. "OK," he relented, moving his feet until he was sitting cross-legged in nothing but his pajama bottoms. "On the end of the bed then," he pointed.

She moved to the end of the bed and sat down, then twisted and pulled her legs in to sit cross-legged as well. As she sat there in silence, Kevin frowned to see her shudder and slump. "Are you cold?"

Deb looked up at him. "A little," she admitted.

"Here…" He peeled back the thin blanket that was currently doubling as a bedspread and handed the top hem to her. "Wrap this around you — it should help."

"Thanks," she muttered gratefully and did as he instructed. The blanket was indeed warm.

"What did you dream?" he asked finally when she didn't speak to him again for a very long moment.

The blue eyes came up to meet his, and they were frightened. "I dreamed he was in the house — in my room. I couldn't move, and he started to do… things…" she shuddered again. "I don't want to think about it now."

"But when you woke up, surely you knew he wasn't there," Kevin reasoned with her in a whisper. "You turned on your light and saw that he wasn't in the room…"

She shook her head. "All I knew was that I had to get out of there," she said with desperate firmness. "I wanted to feel safe. I feel safe with you," she told him shyly.

"But this isn't a good idea, Deb," he complained gently. "Sydney said…"

"I think Grandpa and Miss Parker are afraid that we'll actually do something — like maybe have sex together," Deb countered slightly sarcastically. "But they don't have to know about this…"

"I'd know," Kevin said simply and firmly. "I want to help you — I really do — but what Sydney told me tonight made a lot of sense, and was a little alarming."

"Alarming?" Deb looked up at him in dismay. "I'm alarming to you now?"

"No," he soothed, restraining himself from reaching out to her. "YOU aren't — what could happen IS."

She looked down at her hands. "You don't want to be with me, is that it?"

"That's not it, Deb," he breathed in mild exasperation. "I think what happened this afternoon and our walk this evening should prove to you that I want very much to be with you — but Sydney's right. I don't want do anything to hurt you in the process of making us both feel good — and I can't trust myself to know where to stop."

She looked up at him again, this time in challenge. "What if I don't want you to stop?"

Kevin swallowed hard and stared back. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," she said in a very serious tone, suddenly needing to know, "what if I don't want you to stop? What if I want you to keep going?"

He was astounded. "You mean, go ahead and have sex? For real?" She nodded, her eyes glued to his face. Suddenly he needed to know. "Have you ever had sex before?"

"No… I mean…" She looked down. "Not until that man…"

"What did he do to you?" Kevin asked very softly, cringing inside when Deb slumped. "I need to know what really happened to you. Sydney only told me a very vague 'he touched you without permission,' and I think it was a lot more than that. Am I right?" She nodded reluctantly. "What did he do?"

"He did touch me," she said so softly that he could hardly hear her. "All over. On my breasts, on the inside of my legs, and on… in…" She took a shaky breath. "He pinched my breasts so hard it made me cry, and then bit me until I bled. Then he shoved his hands into my pants and pushed his fingers into me hard, over and over again. It hurt so much!" A tear hit her cheek.

"I didn't know sex could hurt that way," Kevin whispered, aghast. "His fingers?"

"I think he WANTED to hurt me," Deb answered after another shaky breath. "But I don't think sex hurts when it's done right — when both people want it to happen." She looked at him again. "I don't think you would hurt me that way if I asked you to go ahead, to keep going…"

"But Deb, I think that was the point Sydney was trying to make with me tonight — that sex CAN hurt you in more ways than one, especially NOW, while you're still trying to work through what that man did to you," Kevin said softly. "He explained to me how our emotions and feelings get all tangled up with the way our bodies react to stimulation — and how there is a point that a man reaches when…" He sighed and gazed at her gently. "At that point, even if you wanted me to stop because you got scared or if you flipped out like you did at your house the other day, I wouldn't be able to — my body wouldn't let me. And then it would be even worse than what that man did to you, and it would have been ME… God, Deb, I love you — I don't want that to happen, and I don't know what to look for to tell me I'm reaching that point!"

"You love me?" Deb repeated in surprise, his confession deafening her to everything else he'd said. "Did you just say…"

"I know what I said," Kevin told her. "I don't know what else to call how I feel about you. I've never felt like this about ANYONE else, ever." He sighed deeply. "And feeling the way I do, I'm not going to take any chances of doing something that could hurt you, physically OR emotionally." He gazed at her fondly. "Even if you say you want me to keep going."

"So you're saying you love me, but that you won't touch me or kiss me anymore…"

"I didn't say that. Damn it…" Kevin shook his head in frustration and tossed caution to the wind as he bent forward and reached out to grasp her by the shoulders and pull her up the length of the bed into his arms. "There." He bent and kissed her briefly and passionately. "And there. Are you happy?"

"Yes." Deb settled with an arm around him and laid her head on his shoulder, feeling truly safe and contented at last. "I think I love you too," she said softly, as if suddenly coming to recognition of her feelings for this gentle and sweet young man who was now apparently bound and determined to protect her, even from herself. It was a completely new experience to have a young man anxious to be patient and take things slowly rather than pushing at her to see how far she could be convinced to go as soon as possible.

"Then we need to be careful." Kevin closed his eyes and held her close to him. She was so special, so beautiful. There was nothing that he wouldn't do for her, provided it didn't harm her at the same time. If what Sydney said were correct, there would come a time when it would be safer to consider… other things. And if his mentor were right, patience now would be amply rewarded when that time came.

"Can you just hold me tonight then," she asked against his neck, "so I don't have to be alone?"

He nodded. "OK — for a little while, at any rate. Until you feel you can go back to your own room and sleep."

"I can't stay with you?"

"I don't think that would be such a great idea." Kevin's tone was soft and gentle — and very, very final.

Deb sighed and wrapped her arms around him just a little tighter. At least he was holding her now and making her feel safe from those horrific memories that still hounded and haunted her. "I love you, Kevin," she whispered, more and more convinced that she had found the truth. If what Miss Parker said were true, neither she nor Grandpa would really disapprove. And if they didn't, then Daddy could be convinced eventually too — and THAT would be something worth waiting for.

"I love you too, Deb," he replied, his mind whirling. He had made a promise to Tyler to only be her friend — to not take advantage of the situation but just remain friends with her until she was ready to let them both into her life again on an equal basis and eventually to make an honest choice between them. But things didn't seem to be working out in a way that was allowing him to keep that promise very well. Tyler was working at the Centre most of the time and he was… well, he was… HERE. It was he who was present when Deb needed to reach out for comfort — what was he supposed to do, turn her down flat?

He leaned himself back against the headboard so that he could hold her more comfortably against him, relishing the feel of her silky pajamas moving seductively across the bare skin of his chest. He decided that he'd have to have another long, frank conversation with his mentor —soon. He honestly didn't know if he could ever be comfortable sharing Deb with another man — not even with Tyler, who he liked and respected — ever again. And the idea of breaking a promise to a man he liked and respected was just as distressing as the thought of hurting Deb.

Why couldn't life be simple?

Feedback, please: