Artie managed to escort them into a room neither one of them had ever seen before and set them down in two chairs -one of either side of the room- without any trouble. He wasn't sure how. God knows he could feel their resistance to him rolling off of their bodies in blasting hot waves. Yet they walked quietly in front of him, arms still bound tight, until he led them to their final destination.

Once seated and facing each other across the white, bare room (no bigger than a decent sized bedroom), Artie went to work. With their arms secured over the backs of the chairs, he picked up a set of threaded handcuffs that were bolted to the floor behind them and slapped them over each of their wrists. Once they were both cuffed and chained to the floor, he finally opened his pocketknife and cut their plastic bonds from their elbows. Neither of his captives made a single sound, but he grunted from them both as he gently pulled the straps out of their skin, which stuck slightly as their coagulated blood had bonded to them. He winced as they started to bleed all over again, red rivulets trailing down their bare arms.

But they didn't notice. They were too busy watching each other, barely aware of his presence.

Artie stood up from his work and looked quickly at the two-way mirror on one side of the room. Aside, from the chairs, it was the only noticeable thing in the room. Well...at least from their perspective.

Artie let his gaze travel along the wall, up to the ceiling, and down the opposite wall. He doubted they'd ever notice, but a seam ran along that path, thin as a dime, that gave this room the leverage he was looking for. He had their cooperation because they were within spitting distance of each other. He knew enough about those damned arrows to know that being in the presence of the object of their affection did wonders in terms of their compliance. However, it would also give them no incentive whatsoever to talk. If he'd separated them, the interrogation would go nowhere. They'd simply kill themselves trying to escape and find the other. This room, however. His eyes lifted up again. Should they refuse to answer his questions, punishment would fall. And that punishment was a paper-thin wall -bulletproof, light-proof, and above all, soundproof- which would slide right out of the ceiling and cut the room in half. They'd lose sight of the other. They'd lose sound. They'd lose every precious way they had of communicating with each other. And it would stay that way until they agreed to be reasonable.

He looked back down to them. They were still caught up in each other's stare. Oblivious.

He cleared his throat, for all the difference that made. "I'm going outside to talk to Leena. When I come back, I want the location of the arrows, Pete. I know you have them, or did at some point. Just tell me where they are and we can get back to business as usual. Got it?"

They didn't respond. Hell, they didn't even look at him.

He sighed and stepped pointedly out of the middle of the room. "Something to think about," he threatened unwillingly, and walked to the only door leading out, smacking a green button on the wall as he left. The shining white wall fell like a shot from the roof and cut the room cleanly in half. Artie didn't see their startled jolts in their chairs, nor did the slamming door let him hear Myka (now on his side) as a strangled sob left her.

Nor did he care. Yes, he understood that they weren't themselves. But hey, if they wanted to get stubborn with him, then they could sit in Time Out. He didn't have the energy and god knows he didn't have much time. The Regents were a ruthless pack of bastards and they put a clock on damn near everything. If he couldn't get the arrows fast, then they'd make it so that Time Out for those two lasted a hell of a lot longer than was usual.

He huffed in frustration and ambled down the corridor to the two-way mirror. Leena stood looking in. She didn't acknowledge Artie as he came to stand next to her. Her eyes stayed glued to the split room in front of her, Pete on one side, Myka on the other. They were both struggling valiantly against the cuffs that had them sitting and bound to the floor. Pete was grunting and shouting her name hoarsely as he pushed with his legs and pulled with his bound arms. Myka was just as desperate, yanking against the cuffs with no luck and calling for him over and over.

It was horrible to watch.

Artie rolled his head from side to side. He suddenly had an enormous headache. "What do you see?" he asked without looking over.

Leena didn't answer right away. She continued to stare, her expression hard and unreadable. Myka had her special attention. The woman couldn't seem to stop reading the invisible colors that only she could see in the brunette on the other side.

"Leena?"

She blinked and looked over at her old friend. "Sorry," she offered quietly. "I just..." she looked back, then back to him, "This is a new one for me. It's a shame their auras wouldn't show up on film. I'd like a picture."

"What do you see?" he repeated.

"I..." she looked back again, entranced. "I see..."

He waited. She seemed content to leave it there.

"You see...?"

"I...I can't explain it. I used to see green in Pete. Always green. It meant he was content. Well-adjusted. Happy. And Myka used to be dark orange. It changed subtly over the last year as she settled and accepted her role here, but it stayed in the dark red realm. It meant she was alert. Sometimes angry. But generally, just not at complete peace. Now..." she gestured into the room at them tearing themselves apart, as if their new colors were obvious to all.

"Now what?" he pressed. They didn't have time for vagueness.

"Artie," she began, biting her lip as she gazed back at him. "They're white. Both of them. Pure white. And their auras were calm when you were cuffing them and they could see each other. Now they're...well, they're getting brighter. And bigger. The auras are straining towards the wall separating them." She took a measured breath. "It looks like their auras are trying to reach each other through the wall."

Artie looked in and only saw their physical bodies straining towards each other. He saw nothing of their colored souls that Leena did.

Leena watched with him, her eyes wide with wonder. "I've never seen white," she murmured softly. "I don't even know what it means. It's...beautiful."

Artie pushed back. "I'm going to help Claudia and give these two some time to settle down. Something tells me that questioning them is pointless anyway. If we're going to find the artifact, we'll have to do it without their help." He turned to her. "Watch them?"

She nodded. "Every second."

He nodded back and hustled down the corridor. "Call if there's trouble," he said over his shoulder.

Leena waited until he was out of sight and slowly expelled a shaking breath. She didn't have much time. She jogged the short distance to the door leading in and opened it to Myka's side, closing it quickly as she did.

Myka stopped her struggles and turned, staring daggers at the person she assumed was Artie. Leena gasped at the hatred pointed at her. It stopped her in her tracks.

Myka's eyes softened a fraction. "Please, Leena," she begged pitifully. "Please let me see him."

Leena nodded and made herself move quickly to Myka's side, kneeling down to her eye level. "I'll do you one better," she whispered to her. "I'll let you loose. You'll have to stay in here, but you can be with him. And don't!" she held her finger up angrily, "try anything. I let you out of those cuffs, I reopen the room, and you behave. Deal?"

Myka nodded desperately. "Anything. Anything you say. Just hurry."

Leena nodded and pulled out her master key set, opening the cuffs with no trouble, she immediately turned and nearly sprinted for the door. She loved Myka, but she didn't trust her any farther than she could throw her right now. She smacked the green button as she flew out the door, the wall retracting, just as she slammed it closed and locked it.

Jogging to the mirror, she looked in in time to see Myka leap into Pete's lap, straddling him and kissing his grinning face in a hundred different places. He was still fighting wildly against his cuffs, now because he wanted to touch her as she cupped the back of his head and kissed him in desperate relief.

Leena watched as Myka sensed his ripping tendons and pulled back, running her hands soothingly down his biceps. "Don't," she rebuked softly. "You're hurting."

His smile didn't pull back an inch. "Myka," he crooned, oblivious to the pain she detected. "Thank God."

She smiled back and resumed kissing him. Leena smiled with her, be it more pained. She watched as Myka continued to pet him across his shoulders and down his chest. Pete, for his part, obeyed her request and stopped struggling and was content to sit with her wrapped around him. He simply kissed her back and emitted rumbling purrs deep in his chest that triggered Leena's jealous bone against her will.

She'd never known love like what she saw in that room. Never.

She took a small step back and looked around the corridor until she spotted an antique chair decorating a dark corner. She retrieved it and, sighing in resignation, sank into under the window. She felt horrible about breaking her promise to Artie, but she wasn't about to watch them during such an intensely private moment. She'd stay in earshot. That would have to be enough.

Artie would be furious. She knew this, and she was ready to accept any punishment Mrs. Frederic might impose for her infraction. But from where she sat, she had no choice. Their auras had changed drastically, that much was true. And there were now white, again she hadn't lied. Perhaps that alone might have been enough for her to let them be together, simply because she didn't think it wise to separate two people with twin auras of an unheard of hue. It might have been enough, but a second color, visible only in Myka, had sealed the deal.

Pete and Myka needed to be together. To separate them was unhealthy.

For all three auras involved.