It's been said that nothing makes us as lonely as our secrets and over the next few months this certainly was true for those affected by that fateful storm.

The novelty wore off for both Falacci and Logan, eroded by the constant need to be on the alert.

Falacci was scared of inadvertently burning someone or setting fire to the house while the kids were at home. This exacerbated her temper which only made things worse. She'd considered telling Steve but his frequent mockery of all things paranormal put her off. She'd even searched the internet looking for something that made her feel less of a freak but had only found frauds, charlatans and deluded crackpots.

Logan was not faring any better. His earlier thoughts of using his strength for gain rapidly vanished as he realised he would become a one-trick pony. And he didn't want to stand out, that got you all the wrong attention. Goren's suspension was proof of that. He liked belonging, liked being part of a team, liked being in his group of buddies. He was also fed up with having to think before he did everything. It had gotten better with practice but the frequent mishaps when he was tired or distracted were annoying. And he still hadn't dared to explore the implications it could have on his sex life.

Their case involving the random shootings of those three good kids hadn't helped either of them. What was the point of having these 'gifts' if it couldn't prevent shit like that happening? Falacci and Logan became subdued, each aware that something was amiss with the other, but not yet having built up enough trust in their partnership to broach the subject. Logan's black book was abandoned.

Things weren't any better in the morgue.

Rodgers was conflicted. She realised that her forays into the last moments of the deceased's lives gave her insights into the cause of their deaths that would be hard to evidence in more scientific ways and that compromised her professionally. But sometimes she just had to know. Then there was the shameful urge to experience their emotional lives vicariously, because she was too fearful to have one of her own. She would resolutely keep her gloves on until the pressure built up and then, feeling like a junkie, she would give into the need. This conflict was reflected in her dealings with Danny. She would be distant or tetchy with him one moment and all over him the next. She was aware all this stress was making her tongue sharper and her attitude even blunter. If only she could find some upside to this ability...

Rodgers was not the only one who was stressed.

Alex was wound up tight. There'd been a few moments of reprieve when she was with Bobby at the hospital but since then the tension had gradually been building. The restlessness was back, the urge to do something - anything – was overwhelming. She'd not had the chance to talk to Bobby before he went on suspension and the only contact since had been by phone – hardly the most appropriate medium to declare your interest.

She was emptying the vending machine of candy faster than it was refilled, her runs were getting longer and she was pushing herself to beat the previous day's time. Everything irritated her, particularly Bobby's empty chair. Stoic by nature she had no outlet for her tension, not even the usual audience for her snark. So she resorted to the occasional slam of a door and the odd sigh, while around her things rattled and flexed and creaked. She hoped she would be able to settle down after she'd resolved things with Bobby, whatever the outcome.

The man in question was grappling with some pretty tricky issues of his own.

It might have been the rest in hospital, the end of the after -effects of the storm, preparing his statement for the hearing or the fact that he had faced his worse fear and had survived; whatever the reason, Goren's mind was back to its usual sharpness and the pieces had begun to drop into place. He'd thought of Eames voice and all the things he'd 'heard' in Tates, the words of apology from a silent Ross after the hearing... He'd played around with various hypotheses, eliminated them one by one and, just like Sherlock Holmes, had faced the remaining, improbable, truth. He could hear people's thoughts.

It had added a nasty edge to his confrontation with Frank.

When he stood in Times Square, 'hearing' the tantalising titbits and trivia of the throng of minds around him, he realised he was listening for the sound of Donny's thoughts. Fascinating, though it was, it brought up some difficult ethical and moral issues around privacy. Could he control it? Were there circumstances that it was unavoidable? Should he act on information gleaned? A thousand questions... He spent the first weeks of his suspension in experimentation, glad to be away from people he knew to avoid 'hearing' things that were none of his business, and to have the chance to 'practice' with strangers. It still felt wrong but it was the lesser of evils.

He was particularly avoiding Eames, because he just didn't know how to deal with her or her thoughts. He was obviously thrilled that her feelings matched his but there were some things you just shouldn't know, no matter how close you were. And some things that needed to be said out loud for them to be real. No, he would talk to Alex in person when he had a better handle on this whole situation.

Goren was one of the many things on the mind of Captain Ross.

He was trying to find some way to get the suspension shortened. He tried petitioning various 'higher- ups', pulling strings, calling in favours but was met by a brick wall at every turn. The frustration added to his burden of guilt; Goren's empty chair a painful reminder of his failure. This strengthened his resolve to keep his vow regarding the premonitions.

So in addition to his already heavy workload as captain, he was meticulously recording the details of every vision, sensation, feeling , trying to find patterns in them, trying to make sense of them. He paid particular attention to the ones that occurred most frequently or were the strongest and those that seemed to indicate some sort of bad outcome. So far he had noted that every time he was near the elevator he got the chest pains, found it hard to breathe and had a sensation of being crushed. Any contact with Eames brought on random scenes of devastation. And when he was with Elizabeth his mind filled with visions of her crying. Somehow that upset him the most.

And, of course, there was the pervasive sense of dread. And he didn't need to be psychic to feel the tension and sombre mood in the squad room these days. It all added up to a feeling that there was a storm brewing or that some cataclysmic event was going to occur...