Imanicon Blind Round Robin

by Pipsqueak

What happens when close to 30 Iman fanfic writers join forces to pen a story but nobody knows what happened before their part? Read on and see!

Imanicon Blind Round Robin

Part 1 -- pipsqueak

Darien awoke to the sound of jackhammers in his head. 'Oh no,' he thought, 'I can't need another shot already ... .' Then it came back to him, Claire had cured him and he was a free man now -- free to come and go from The Agency at his will without risking his sanity in the process. Why, then, did it feel like little green gremlins were trying to push his eyeballs out from behind their sockets? He sat up and when the world started to spin, he remembered. He, Hobbes and Claire had gone to Herb's the night before and gotten drunk. There'd been scotch, lots of scotch. All of which was threatening to re-emerge from his body via an alarming route.

Darien lurched his way into the bathroom and proceeded to empty his stomach. In between the bouts of groaning and gurgling, he swore on every relative's grave he had -- and there were quite a few of them -- that he would *never* get that drunk again. Well, at least until the next time the Official played him like a frickin' harp again, anyway.

When his stomach was empty, Darien stood and splashed some cold water on his face. He swiped blindly for a towel and dried it. Then he looked into the sink and his blood ran cold. There dotting the bottom of the basin were clumps of his hair.

"Oh, no," he whimpered. Turning this way and that, Darien tried to completely survey his mop top in the mirror. There weren't any apparent ... shudder ... bald spots, but he thought maybe things were looking a little thinner than usual on the top. Experimentally he ran one hand through his hair, and, sure enough, a little shower of his best buddies fell into the sink.

Darien dashed for the phone and hit the speed dial number for The Keeper. "Claire," he began breathlessly, "I'm losing them. You've got to help. You've got to *stop* it!"

"Darien, what in the bloody hell are you talking about?" Claire's voice was annoyed on the other end of the phone and Darien realized she was probably hurting just as much as he was from the evening's libations. After all, she had even less of a head for alcohol than he did.

"Never mind, Claire, there's no time to explain. Just meet me in the Keep in half an hour. It's a matter of life and death." Darien hung up the phone, grabbed some clothes from the floor and was out the door in less than 10 minutes.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------

Darien lay back in the administering chair, desperately trying to keep his head still so as not to dislodge any more of his hair. He watched as Claire looked from her microscope to a computer printout on her desk then back again.

She raised her head, wiped a weary hand across her brow, and looked woefully at Darien. "Alright, I think I understand what happened now. Please understand, Darien, when I implemented Arnaud's gene therapy cure for Quicksilver madness, I had no idea this would happen."

"Ah, what would happen, Claire?" Darien winced, whenever the Keep looked at him like that, it wasn't gonna be good news.

Returning her eyes to the microscope, she explained, "Well, in destroying the genes that cause the madness, I inadvertently activated the genome responsible for male pattern baldness."

"But, but there's a way to fix it? Right, Keep? You'll find a way to save them?" Darien's voice held the light edge of hysteria.

Claire removed her eyes from the microscope, sighed softly. She stretched her shoulders and rolled her head as she turned her chair to face Darien. "I'm sorry. I've run every simulation I can think of -- but no. I'm afraid there's no cure."

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Part 2 - Jessica

Blind Round Robin

By Jessica

Claire removed her eyes from the microscope, sighed softly.  She stretched her shoulders and rolled her head as she turned her chair to face Darien.  "I'm sorry.  I've run every simulation I can think of -- but no.  I'm afraid there's no cure."cxzDarien, who was sitting on a chair, shook his head in disagreement.  "Can you run them again?  There must be a solution."  Before Claire could say anything more, Agent Bobby Hobbes stepped inside the small lab.

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Part 3 -- Christina

"Before Claire could say anything more, Agent Bobby Hobbes stepped inside the small lab."

It was dark inside. Bobby un-holstered his gun and began to investigate. The place smelled of old chemicals, as though something spilled out onto the floor before it had been abandoned. There was another smell. Something all too familiar and unpleasant: blood. Hobbes pulled his handkerchief out and covered his face. He hesitated to go further, but continued anyway. He walked, slowly through the small lab, past container, which once held lab rats. Hobbes continued on and on, until he stepped on to some glass. He looked down. Droplets of blood created a trail of blood before. Bobby followed a trail to a door in the back of the lab. His hands shook uncontrollably. Quickly, he took a deep breath and turned the handle. The door slowly creaked open; Hobbes peered inside.

"Aw, crap…Claire?!" he screamed, "You'd better get in here!"

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Part 4 -- Lauren (dafinv)

The door slowly creaked open; Hobbes peered inside.

"Aw, crap...Claire?!" he screamed, "You'd better get in here!"

Claire rushed inside the Keep.

"Darien! Bloody hell, Bobby! Help me get him up!"

The Keep was completely trashed. Everything, chairs, tables, refrigerators, animals tanks, was strewn across the floor. Bottles of different drugs and medicines were broken and seeping onto the floor. Shards of glass were everywhere. In the middle off the room, surrounding by smoking chemicals was Darien. He was stuck underneath the demented dentist chair, and we wasn't moving. Hobbes immediately tucked his gun away safely and ran over to his partner. Claire was right beside him.

"Fawkes! Darien? Can you hear me? Come on partner speak to me!"

Darien groaned.

"Darien? Darien?" Claire asked, "Darien can you tell me what happened?"

Darien mumbled again. Claire noticed he was coughing blood.

"Darien, stay with us. Now, Bobby's going to move the chair okay? But I want you stay with me, all right? Now, just tell me what happened."

"Guys. Big guys..." Darien groaned.

"I'm gonna move the chair, okay partner? Just hold still."

Bobby got a good grip on the heavy chair and managed to lift up slightly and push it to the side off his partner.

"Bobby, keep him talking. I'm going to check out his injuries, all right?"

"Sure thing, Claire. So partner, how's it going?"

"Funny, Bobby. Real funny," Darien started to laugh, but it caused him only to cough.

"Sorry, sorry. What happened?"

Darien was starting to become more aware of his surroundings and therefor, was able to create more coherent sentences.

"I came in to see Claire," Darien coughed several times.

"Just take it easy Darien," spoke Claire.

"There were these guys, big guys, snooping a-" Darien went into another coughing fit.

"Snooping around uh? So let me guess, you tried to stop them, they kicked your punk ass, and then trashed the place?"

"Yeah, Hobbes. Basically."

"Okay, Darien. You just wait here. I'm going to get a stretcher and move you into Lab 3 and check you out more thoroughly. I don't think there's anything to serious. Most likely some broken bones, some bruises, that sort of thing."

"Keep, he's coughing blood here!"

"Don't worry Bobby. From what I observed of him right now, I don't think he has any serious internal injuries. Stay with him until I get the stretcher; then tell the Official."

"Will do, Keep."

Claire left the Keep and found a clean stretcher. Hobbes helped her carefully lift Darien up. Once he was safely on Hobbes left the Keep and ran up to the Official's office. Without thinking, Hobbes just ran in. The Official and Eberts were dining on fine Chinese cuisine.

"Hobbes! Try knocking," the Official barked.

"Yes, sir."

Hobbes left the office, knocked loudly, and re-entered.

"What can I do for you Agent Hobbes?"

"Two men, unknown, broke into the Keep. Fawkes stumbled on to them, tried to apprehend them, but was taken down. They trashed the Keep and apparently ran out. The Keeper is doing a physical examination of Fawkes as we speak."

Hobbes spouted these words out so fast the Official barely had time to comprehend what Hobbes actually said.

"There was a break in?"

"Yes, sir."

"What was taken?"

"Well, we don't know if anything was taken. The Keeper and I were trying to stabilize Fawkes so..."

"Then you better find out who they were, what they wanted, and if they took anything! First a bomb threat, then Agent Monroe goes missing, and now this! What else could happen today?"

At that moment Eberts' cell phone rang.

"Yes, all right. I'll tell him. Thank you. Uh, sir?"

"What is it Eberts?"

"We have just been informed that Agent Monroe's Corvette has been found, near Haskell Park, but there was no sign of her."

"Perfect. Just perfect. Hobbes! Find out who these men were. This might have something to do with Monroe's disappearance."

"I'm on it Chief."

Hobbes left the Official's office and started to head back to the scene of the crime. As he was walking down the hallway, Hobbes noticed to men, who looked like they were lost. Hobbes carefully reached for his gun and approached the men.

"Can I help you gentlemen?"

The two men immediately started shooting at Hobbes. He was hit in the arm, but managed to get a few shots off himself. The mysterious men ran down the hallway and towards the exit, followed closely by Hobbes. They reached the exit of the Harding Building and ran out into the open into the street. When Hobbes reached the street, he couldn't find the two men anywhere. The street was crowded so Hobbes concealed his gun, so as not to scare any pedestrians. He looked for any signs of the two men. He turned to go back inside when a black Cadillac came racing around the corner. Hobbes attempted to jump out of the way, but the car was going to fast, and aiming right for him. There was a sickening slamming sound as Hobbes' body came in contact with the large car. The car, carrying the two mysterious men, no doubt, sped off and left Hobbes' crumpled body lying on the sidewalk. Claire and some of the other agents inside the Harding Building had heard the crash and came running outside. Blood was already starting to pour out of Hobbes and onto the sidewalk. Several pedestrians came over to help the poor man, who was not moving.

"Bobby!!" she screamed as she pushed the others aside. "I'm a doctor! Everyone stand back and give him some room," Claire cried. The people backed off and stood in wonder of what had just happened.

Claire threw herself at Hobbes' side and began checking for a pulse and breathing. He had a pulse, but he was not taking in any oxygen. Claire yelled at some of the other agents to get a stretcher, prepare Lab 4, and to tell the Official. She began CPR on her friend; desperately trying to make him breathe. After what seemed like hours, but was actually only a few seconds, Hobbes started breathing. The agents rushed out onto the street with the stretcher and helped Claire lift up Hobbes, just like Hobbes had helped her lift up Darien. The group of agents, and Claire, began wheeling Hobbes into the building, just as the Official was coming to the exit.

"What the hell happened?!" he yelled.

"I don't know!" said Claire as she continued to help wheel Hobbes down the hall. "I was on my way to see you and update you on Darien's condition when I heard a crash. I ran outside and Bobby was...," Claire burst into tears.

"Easy Doctor. Are you capable of working on him here, or should we take him to the hospital?"

"I...I can help him. I don't think its safe, in a hospital I mean. I can help him," she said between tears.

"Good. Go do your thing Doctor."

Claire nodded and signaled to the other agents to rush Bobby down to Lab 4. The Official turned to Eberts."

"Eberts, put this Agency on full alert. Any agent that works here needs to be here. With my two of my top three agents injured, and the other missing, we'll need all the manpower we can muster."

"I'll get right on it sir," Eberts replied, while watching Agent Hobbes to be pushed down the hall. He couldn't help but feel scared and anxious. Although he and Hobbes never really got along, he would never once wish any ill will towards him. It was almost too much for the poor paper-pusher to bear.

It took the Keeper two hours to stabilize Agent Hobbes. He had lost a great deal of blood and was in shock. He was in very critical condition. When she had finished doing all that she could she had Hobbes placed in Lab 3, right next to Fawkes. She knew they would need each other. Fawkes was in almost stable condition, and deep asleep. Claire didn't have the heart to wake him up and tell him about Hobbes. She had no idea how it would affect his condition. About an hour after Hobbes was stabilized the Official came down to check on his own pair of "Starsky and Hutch". The sight disturbed him. The two men were lying in hospital beds right next to each other. Both had several tubes and running in and out of their arms, and had several dark bruises all over their bodies. The Official sighed and wiped away a tear that had formed at his eye. Claire was sitting in a chair, her back to the Official, staring at her two best friends. The Official coughed and made his presence known.

"Oh sir! I...I'm sorry. I didn't see you there. I would have..."

"It's all right Doctor. I was just wondering if you could update me on their conditions."

"Of course."

Claire stood up and walked over to Darien first.

"Darien should recover fully. Mainly some severe bruising, two broken ribs, and a fractured right leg. According to all my tests the gland is fine. There was no damage to any part of Darien's head. Of course, he's too weak to test the gland, but when he becomes stronger, it will all work fine."

"Good, and Agent Hobbes?"

Claire just stared at Bobby. Tears swelling up in her eyes.

"Is he going to make it?" he asked.

"I don't know," Claire replied, "I just don't know."

***********************************************************************

Part 5 -- Lara

"Is he going to make it?" he asked.

"I don't know," Claire replied, "I just don't know."

"He has to! He just has to!!" Eberts suddenly shouted.cxz"Albert! Calm down!" Claire silenced his fit. The man began sobbing like a baby. Claire hugged him, "It'll be alright..."cxz"But you just said that--"cxz"I know...I mean, I dont...But we'll just have to wait and see."cxz"That's not good enough Claire," The offical said, "We need him. Now."

***********************************************************************

Part 6 -- Shari

Devilbird's section…

"That's not good enough Claire," The offical said, "We need him. Now."

Claire hesitated, as if she had more to say, then reluctantly nodded. With a noncommittal murmur, she excused herself.

Narrowing his eyes, the Official watched her leave. She knew more than she was admitting, he was sure of it. The good doctor was essential to the welfare of his prized toy, but it was his job to keep the secrets of The Agency, not hers. He would have to remind her again who signed the paychecks in this organization.

"Eberts!" he growled.

Claire sighed in frustration and absently pushed her hair up and out of the way. What was she going to do now? Unconciously, she bit her lip as she forced herself to continue pouring over her notes. There had to be an answer here somewhere. All she needed to do was find the key.

The sudden bleat of the telephone in the dead silence of the Keep startled her. Anxiously, she grabbed the phone and punched the pickup button. "Hello?"

The low chuckle on the other end of the line made her freeze. "Hi'ya, Keepie—didja miss me?"

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Part 7 -- Kathy (Hei Mao)

    The low chuckle on the other end of the line made her freeze. "Hi'ya, Keepie - didja miss me?" Flinging the covers off, she twisted until she was seated on the bed, glancing out the picture window to make sure the surveillance van was still parked outside. *I hope they're not sleeping out there.* "Of course, I missed you so much you woke me out of a sound sleep," she huffed, covering her fright with a veneer of disdain. "Oh, ouchie, Claire. I'll bet you had that sentence marinating in sarcasm all day... and I'll bet you want to know where I am..." *Keep stalling, they'll need some time to trace the call...* "If I get it in three guesses, do I get a prize?" "Maybe, Keepie, maybe..." She could practically hear the sinister smile as he continued, "... maybe, if you get it right, I'll get the prize." Claire pondered for a few moments, deliberately stretching out the time. When she judged his patience was near the end, she blurted, "The Keep." "You know, that's a good guess, but no... I'm not at the Keep. Another guess?" She licked her lips, spotting the tin of clove cigarettes in the drawer of her bedside table. She used to smoke them regularly, long ago in college, but now she only indulged when in a celebratory mood, or as now, in a moment of stress. Flicking a stick out of the tin, she lit it with a nearby pack of matches. "Claire... oh Keeeeeeepieeee," he called in sing-song, "are you still there?" "I'm thinking," she snapped, "um... the Chinese place on the corner?" "You know, that does sound good... but no. That's strike two." Claire could feel the needles of a stress headache beginning to prickle in her forehead, and hoped she had given the agents outside enough electronic rope to haul Darien back in. "Final guess? Clock's ticking..." Darien began to hum the Final Jeopardy jingle. In the space of a few seconds, the headache grew so intense that Claire felt she was going to give birth to Athena. "Outside my house." "No, but I can be. I know where you live, you know. Game over. I think I may go get my prize, after all." Click. She sat there in a half-daze, holding the dead line. Locating the bug, she spoke through the one-way connection to the van outside. "I hope you got that," she said, then grabbed the tranquilizer gun and syringe of counteragent she had laying by the bed. The night wasn't over yet. Still, there was one last thing she needed to take care of before she received her visitor. She took a few anxious puffs on the cigarette, and fumbled through her bedside table. "Where is that Tylenol?"

The low chuckle on the other end of the line made her freeze. "Hi'ya, Keepie - didja miss me?"

Flinging the covers off, she twisted until she was seated on the bed, glancing out the picture window to make sure the surveillance van was still parked outside. *\i I hope they're not sleeping out there.*\i0  "Of course, I missed you so much you woke me out of a sound sleep," she huffed, covering her fright with a veneer of disdain.

"Oh, ouchie, Claire. I'll bet you had that sentence marinating in sarcasm all day... and I'll bet you want to know where I am..."

*\i Keep stalling, they'll need some time to trace the call...* \i0 "If I get it in three guesses, do I get a prize?"

"Maybe, Keepie, maybe..." She could practically hear the sinister smile as he continued, "... maybe, if you get it right, I'll get the prize."

Claire pondered for a few moments, deliberately stretching out the time. When she judged his patience was near the end, she blurted, "The Keep."

"You know, that's a good guess, but no... I'm not at the Keep. Another guess?"

She licked her lips, spotting the tin of clove cigarettes in the drawer of her bedside table. She used to smoke them regularly, long ago in college, but now she only indulged when in a celebratory mood, or as now, in a moment of stress. Flicking a stick out of the tin, she lit it with a nearby pack of matches. "Claire... oh Keeeeeeepieeee," he called in sing-song, "are you still there?"

"I'm thinking," she snapped, "um... the Chinese place on the corner?"

"You know, that does sound good... but no. That's strike two." Claire could feel the needles of a stress headache beginning to prickle in her forehead, and hoped she had given the agents outside enough electronic rope to haul Darien back in. "Final guess? Clock's ticking..." Darien began to hum the Final Jeopardy jingle.

In the space of a few seconds, the headache grew so intense that Claire felt she was going to give birth to Athena. "Outside my house."

"No, but I can be. I know where you live, you know. Game over. I think I may go get my prize, after all."

She sat there in a half-daze, holding the dead line. Locating the bug, she spoke through the one-way connection to the van outside. "I hope you got that," she said, then grabbed the tranquilizer gun and syringe of counteragent she had laying by the bed. The night wasn't over yet. Still, there was one last thing she needed to take care of before she received her visitor.

She took a few anxious puffs on the cigarette, and fumbled through her bedside table. "Where is that Tylenol?"

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Part 8 -- Carrie (Adel)

She took a few anxious puffs on the cigarette, and fumbled through her bedside table. "Where is that Tylenol?"

"What the hell do you need Tylenol for?" Hobbes miffed.

"Hobbes…not now," Darien murmured from the side of his mouth.

"No, seriously, I want to know what you need Tylenol for. Are we that repulsive? What, you suddenly don't like us?"

"Hobbes…"

She pulled hard on the cigarette. "No, it's not that. It's just…" She sighed in frustration, the proper words escaping her.

"Oh, well, this is just great." Hobbes volume and pique were growing exponentially. He threw his hands in the air and stalked away.

Darien exasperation got the better of him. He slapped his hand over his face, muttered into his palm, and raked his fingers through his hair. He decided to try again. "Hobbes, if you would just calm down."

"I am calm!" Hobbes barked. "I'm perfectly calm! See this?" He waved his hand, indicating his entire body. "Doesn't get any calmer than this, my friend!" Darien saw the vein on his partner's temple jump. Oh, this was not good. He tried a different tack.

"Maybe you should go outside, stretch your legs, get some air."

"Oh, now you're trying to get rid of me, too?" The older man's face was becoming decidedly crimson.

Darien pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off an imminent headache. "Oh crap…"

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Part 9 -- Doug

"Oh, now you're trying to get rid of me, too?"  The older man's face was becoming decidedly crimson.

Darien pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off an imminent headache.  "Oh crap".

Actually, Darien wouldn't have minded putting some distance between himself and his boss. He raised his wrist, and contemplated the handcuffs that bound them together.

Ordinarily, he would have just drizzled them with quicksilver and cracked them open by now. But today of all days, he'd managed to cajole Claire into giving him a shot of the stuff that shut down the gland. He'd finally wangled a date with the manicurist from Maureen's, and he was hoping...hell, he'd been pretty darn sure...that he was going to get lucky.

Yeah, he got "lucky" alright. This was just his kind of luck.

"Say, chief, can you remember what Pam Grier and that other chick did to get out of the cuffs in 'Black Mama, White Mama'"?

The Official glowered at Darien. He opened his mouth. But instead of the familiar cantankerous growl, he heard a feminine voice sing,

"La La La, La La Lalala Laa - aaa"

"and that was 'Can't Get You Out Of My Head' by Kylie Minogue, and *this* is AJ in the Morning, spinning the hits,..."

Darien's eyes opened, and he realized that he was home, alone, in his bed.

"Can't Get You Out of My Head." That was just too good to be true. For an instant, he wondered if Kylie Minogue could turn invisible.

Just a nightmare. But sometimes, his nightmares came true.

DARIEN VOICE-OVER:

"The Twentieth Century poet Theodore Geisel, better know as Dr. Seuss, once said, 'I like nonsense. It wakes up the brain cells.'  If the good doctor were still alive, and he ever came to work for the Agency, he'd never need to buy another jar of Maxwell House for the rest of his life."

***

Darien slouched in his chair, half-listening to Eberts' monologue.

 *Just tell me what I win if I pick the right door,* he thought. Last week, when he'd sat in this chair, he'd known the answer: a shot of Counteragent. Now he could only guess. Maybe the washing machine? More likely the lifetime supply of fertilizer.

"We've received a confidential memorandum intercepted by a deeply-covered operative implementing a maximum-impact program of round-the-clock surveillance with regard to a highly-placed, order-of-magnitude target..."

"Fished it outta the guy's trash," Bobby said, sotto voce, in Darien's direction.

The Official cleared his throat.

"Your assignment..," Eberts continued.

*Should you choose to accept it,* popped unbidden into Darien's head, in the voice of the guy who used to give Charlie's Angels their orders over the speaker phone, even though he knew the line came from Mission: Impossible. *Should* he accept it? He had a choice now. That took some getting used to.

He also had an absurd image of himself in a Farrah Fawcett wig, starring in a drag production of "Charlie's Angels." He glanced at Bobby, wondering which Angel he'd play. Kate Jackson, Darien decided. He couldn't remember any of their Angel names, but Kate Jackson was always way cooler than Jaclyn Smith.

As he watched, Bobby failed to stifle a ribald guffaw.

"Hobbes!" Darien said in mock reproach, swinging his leg as though to kick Bobby under an imaginary table. He recognized that laugh. The Naughtyville Express had just left the station.

He wondered how long he'd tuned out.

"I fail to see what's so funny about mission-critical sticky deliverables, Agent Hobbes," Eberts responded, his dignity wounded.

"Sticky deliverables!" Bobby repeated, snickering. "That's gotta be some kind of a punchline. Really, Eberts, you're walking down the street, all of a sudden you look up, and there's this marquee on the front of the theater, and the name of the movie is 'Sticky Deliverables,'" Bobby cracked up again. "What do *you* think that movie's gonna be about?"

"Hey, I think my dad had that album. Wasn't it by the Stones? With the zipper on the front." Darien offered, stalling for time to figure out how he was going to find out what they'd been talking about, without letting them know that he hadn't been paying attention.

"Gentlemen, the original Bigfoot is to be protected at all costs. The future of monster truck racing in America as we know it is at stake here," rumbled the Official.

*Bigfoot,* reverberated through Darien's head. If Claire were to ask him how he felt right now, he'd have to say that his gland was literally itching to cover him with quicksilver.

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Part 10 -- JamNelsonC

*Bigfoot,* reverberated through Darien's head. If Claire were to ask him how he felt right now, he'd have to say that his gland was literally itching to cover him with quicksilver.

 Darien jolted upright on the couch. "Woah, weird dream." He muttered to himself. He got up and went into the kitchen. He noticed an opened container of chips sitting on the counter.



He closed the lid on the plastic container as he watched a squirrel sprint across the yard. The leaves made a crunch sound when the squirrel ran across them. Darien grabbed a bag of candy from the counter.

 He heard a click outside his apartment door and then a knock. Putting the candy back on the counter, he walked to the door and opened it to reveal Bobby and Claire. They had something in their hands. Bobby held a box- shaped container, while Claire held a white paper bag.

"We brought dinner!" Claire said cheerfully.

"Ribs." Bobby said opening the box to reveal them.

"And curly cheese fries." Claire said as she went into the kitchen to find a plate to put them on.

Bobby loved how Claire's nose would wrinkle when she laughed. Just watching her made him feel at ease.



"So what really brings you two here." Darien asked.

"Boss wants us to check out Maxtre again. He doesn't feel we've gathered enough evidence or something like that." Bobby answered.

"What? They're completely legal. Nothing odd going on there. Just a waste of time." Darien griped.

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Part 11 -- Dawnwind

"Boss wants us to check out Maxtre again. He doesn't think we've gathered enough evidence or something like that." Bobby said.

"What? They're completely legal. Nothing odd going on there. Just a waste of time." Darien griped.

"Like it or not we're on the Fat man's time card, my friend and we do what he pays us to." Hobbes made a grand gesture towards his dirt yellow van, climbing in the driver's seat.

"Why don't I ever get to drive?" Darien asked rhetorically. It wasn't exactly that he wanted to drive, he just wanted to gripe more. "It's not like he pays you more to drive."

"No, ain't that the truth, you get more for goin' see through though." He gritted his teeth, it was a sore subject. Hobbes patted the van's dashboard as he turned the key. The engine coughed twice then turned over with the van version of a belch. " Golda requires precise handling, Fawksie, she has special needs."

Laughing, Darien nodded, "She needs an antacid."

"Back to that damned warehouse. Place gave me the creeps, I'll tell you. That little dwarf guy sitting there with that big ol' gun like he had something to hide and there wasn't even any cargo there…" Hobbes rambled.

"You call that guy a dwarf?" Darien slid on a pair of shades, looking out at the marina where boats sailed in the brisk afternoon winds, " He was maybe an inch or two shortern' you."

"Not true, my friend, not true." Hobbes sat up a little straighter. "He was like…Billy Barty, a midget."

"Hobbes, you have to be kidding me. You and he weren't that different in height."

"Are you saying I'm short, Mr. Bean Pole?"

"No." Darien spoke carefully, "I'm saying that HE was short. You're…uh…."

"Diggin' yourself into a grave, Fawkes."

"Quite average in a superior way, Hobbesy."

"Good save, Fawkes." Hobbes half grinned while pulling over to the right to avoid a Cal Trans crew working in the middle of the road.

"Hobbes." Darien said sharply, "And there he is."

"Who?" Still concentrating on getting around the obstacle, Hobbes didn't have time to look over at the boat docks.

"The guy…the dwarf, getting onto a boat with Arnuad." To any other person, it would have looked like the man who was definitely not a dwarf, but not much taller than the actor Danny DiVito, was alone. But on impulse, Darien quicksilvered his eyes and could see the eerie glow of his invisible archenemy Arnaud de Phon climbing onto the small sailboat with the tiny bearded fellow.

"Where do you see them?" Hobbes managed to pull over to the side of the road, trying to locate where his partner was pointing. "You sure de Phon is with him?"

Darien turned so Hobbes could see his blanked out eyes, "Yes, I'm sure."

"Then do your stuff, Inviso-boy, and get out of the car, "I'll find a place to park."

Darien let the quicksilver cover his body in one breath and opened the van door, running across the lawn towards the marina before the two on the boat could cast off. It was a relatively small craft and he wasn't too keen on getting on the boat. There was a small matter of seasickness.

Just as the bearded man threw off the ropes that secured the sailboat to the dock, Darien invisibly jumped onto the prow. He crouched low, afraid that if Arnaud turned his way he would be able to see the glowing outline of Darien the same way Darien could discern his outline.

Hobbes parked Golda just in time to see the sailboat head out into the bay with his partner on board.

************************************************************************



Part 12 -- Naomi

Hobbes parked Golda just in time to see the sailboat head out into the bay with his partner on board.

Hobbes jumped out of the van and watched as the sailboat reached further out into the bay. "Damnit!" Hobbes swore. He was too late! There was no way he could help Darien now! He turned around and kicked Golda's grate. Steam rose from the hood. "Great! You too, huh? Nothing is going my way!"

Hobbes leaned against the van and put his hands over his face. He let out a long sigh and then opened his eyes again. Instantly he saw something from the corner of his eye reflect off of the sun. A smile crept upon his face. He ran to the end of the dock and jumped into the small powerboat. Things might be going a little his way after all.



Darien moved from behind a crate, slowly. He didn't want to alert Arnaud of his presents. Without Darien's knowledge his foot accident got caught on a net. When he tried to move again he couldn't get his leg free. Making as little noise as possible he tried to free himself. What was a fishnet doing on a sailboat anyway?

Just as Darien was about to pull his leg free he heard a click from behind him. He unquicksilvered. Invisible or not Arnaud knew he was there, the gun pointed at his head proved that.

"And what do I owe this pleasure too?"

"Well, I couldn't just let you get away, could I?"

"It would have been nice." Arnaud said, pressing the gun against Darien's temple. "Too bad, now I'll just have to kill you." Before either could act they heard a notice and looked to the north side of the boat, in the distance a smaller powerboat could be seen. "Perfect, here comes your bald, paranoid friend. I guess I'll be using two bullets.

Darien said. While Arnaud had been busy talking to him, Darien had been working the now invisible net free. "I don't think so!" He said, swinging the net over Arnaud. The gun went off, but didn't hit its target.



Hobbes could see the sailboat from the distance, he couldn't tell if anyone was on board from just looking. But he knew they were there. The gunshot he had heard just moments before was was proof of that. He sped the small powerboat and pulled out his Glock 9mm, taking the safety off.



Arnaud tried to get free from the net that confined him. Darien hadn't done his job well because after a few tried Arnaud was untangled. He looked around the boat, Darien was no where to be seen. "Come out, come out wherever you are." Arnaud said, gun in hand.

"You know, I don't really think that would be a good idea." An invisible Darien said.

Arnaud turned to the direction of Darien's voice, "You have no where to go! Unless you want to swim to land, you have no other options." Arnaud looked over his shoulder, Hobbes was getting closer.

"You know Arnaud," Darien's voice said from a different direction this time. "It looks like you're the one who is out of options. Here comes the Calvary now."

Arnaud laughed, "You call that the Calvary? Well, I guess I'll have to take care of that little problem."



Hobbes reached the boat, seconds ago he had seen that Swiss miss mother... He climbed aboard, not seeing anyone. "Fawkes?" He asked, gun ready. He heard something behind him, turning to see if it was his partner; instead he was greeted by Arnaud.

"Put down your gun." Hobbes slowly did, kicking it towards Arnaud. "Good, but I'm still going to have to kill you."

"Where's Fawkes?" Hobbes asked.

"You see, the coward is hiding, and you're going to be my bait." Arnaud held the gun to Hobbes' head, "Unquicksilver, Darien, or I'll shoot him." He pulled back the hammer of his gun, putting his index finger on the trigger.

"Get out of here, Fawkes! Don't worry about me!" Hobbes said, not letting any of the panic that he could feel show. "You could take that boat I came in back to land!"

"Do you really think he would just leave you here?" Arnaud asked. "He can't, his worst fault, he has too big of a heart."

"Fawkes. Jump overboard! He's just going to kill both of us anyway!"



Darien was contemplating what to do, he had few options; saving Hobbes' life or doing as his friend had asked of him, jumping overboard the sailboat and saving his own. Arnaud was right about one thing, he couldn't just leave Hobbes there.

He let the quicksilver flow off of his body, "Okay, don't shoot him."

Arnaud smiled, seeing his arch enemy reappear. "You should have listened to your partner," He shoved Hobbes next to Darien, gun trained on both of them. Arnaud said, "I could kill both of you right now."

"So, why don't you." Darien said, "You killed my brother, you've tried to kill me but failed. Why don't you finish what you started!" Darien stepped closer to Arnaud.

Hobbes grabbed Darien's arm, "Fawkes, what are you doing?" He whispered.

"Giving you enough time to jump overboard."

"I'm not going anywhere," Hobbes replied.

"Yes, you are. It's all right, I have a vest on." Darien stepped closer to Arnaud. "Why don't you! All you have to do is pull the trigger! You want me dead, kill me, it will solve your problems won't it!?!"

Arnaud pointed the gun at Darien, while still keeping his eyes on Hobbes. "Step any closer and I'll just have to."

Darien looked behind him, Hobbes still hadn't jumped. Why not? What was Hobbes thinking, he had a chance to escape! Darien stepped closer, Arnaud put his finger on the trigger. Instead of retreating he stepped even closer. The gun went off.

Hobbes looked at Darien, no blood. H wasn't lying when he said had a vest on. Hearing a splash he looked in the direction Arnaud had been standing, he was greeted by nothing. Running to the side of the sailboat he was there in time to see Arnaud in the water, heading to the small powerboat as means of escape.

************************************************************************



Part 13 -- Suz

Hearing a splash he looked in the direction Arnaud had been standing; he was greeted by nothing. Running to the side of the sailboat, he was there in time to see Arnaud in the water, heading to the small powerboat as means of an escape.

Aww, crap, he thought to himself as he slammed a fist impotently against the teak railing. The Fat Man isn't gonna like this one little bit. I don't want to be the one who files the paperwork on this fiasco…

*********

I sit at my keyboard, completing my assessment of the status of Agents Fawkes' and Hobbes' current debacle. Certainly, it wasn't their fault. Well, not entirely, at any rate. But still, I must confess, I think things could have been handled more effectively than they were. Once again, Arnaud had escaped and once again, the Agency was left looking foolish. There are times I actually wonder if Agents Fawkes and Hobbes actually enjoy their games of cat and mouse with Mr. de Phôn so much that they deliberately let him slip through their fingers to have the pleasure of the hunt all over again.

However, it is hardly my place to critique the actions of trained field agents, or in the case of Darien, half-trained. Perhaps I should recommend that the Official consider enrolling him in the FBI academy. It would be an eye-opening experience for him, I dare say. The Agency, being too financially strapped to afford the cost of maintaining its own training facilities, generally makes arrangements for new recruits to undergo the full sixteen-week FBI training course. Agent Fawkes, though lacking the prerequisite college degree, is still possessed of sufficient native intelligence to succeed, in spite of himself.

Much as I imagine it would benefit him in his career with the Agency, however, I find myself wondering what the Academy's instructors would have to say about Agent Fawkes' latest foray into deviant behavior. I am forced to confess a certain appreciation for his willingness to appear ridiculous in pursuit of his goals. He and Agent Hobbes seem to be possessed of less than average tendencies towards a fear of embarrassment, a trait I find myself envying at times.

Their decision to pursue their current case in disguise would not ordinarily have been cause for concern. Considering that the case involved a women's-only spa and health resort, though, I question the wisdom of attempting a penetration of the establishment by posing as women.

While Agent Hobbes' small stature lent him some credibility, there was simply no disguising the masculine set of his features, and the sight of Robert in panty hose and a dress is one I still shudder to contemplate. Despite Agent Fawkes' impressive height, he was, over all the more convincing woman. Rather attractive, actually, with his slender build and delicate features… Oh dear. Did I really just think that?

I shake myself mentally and save my document, printing out a copy for the file. While the case has yet to be concluded, the trail has led from the Moondance Spa and Resort to other venues, and it remains to be seen whether Agents Fawkes and Hobbes will be able to bring it to a successful conclusion. They are due to report in shortly, and I will be interested to see where their investigation has taken them now. I only hope it will take them out of their costumes and back into gender appropriate garb…

I insert my to-date summary in the file I've opened for this case and place it in the file cabinet in my office, next to my desk, all the while thinking about the strangely alluring curve of Darien's calves, emphasized by the sheen of translucent nylon and the three inch heels he was wearing the last time I saw him…

Albert, you really need to get a grip on yourself, I chastise myself for my distraction, shutting the file drawer rather more sharply than I had intended.

**********************************************************************



Part 14 -- Emma

I insert my to-date summary in the file I've opened for this case and place it in the file cabinet in my office, next to my desk, all the while thinking about the strangely alluring curve of Darien's calves, emphasized by the sheen of translucent nylon and the three inch heels he was wearing the last time I saw him…

Albert, you really need to get a grip on yourself, I chastise myself for my distraction, shutting the file drawer rather more sharply than I had intended.

The BRR comes to a screeching halt when EmmaHobbes realizes that her brain refuses to work. Her fingers hover over the keyboard ready to peck the keys but after ten minutes of absolute silence they drop. "Crap! I knew this was going to happen! I just knew it! Damnit! The fan-fic gods are mocking me."

"Em, what are you overreacting about now?"

Emma turns in her chair and gives her Darien clone a wilting glare. "I am NOT overreacting." Darien grinned, "Oh, so it's not overreacting when you sit in silence for a while and then shout at the top of your lungs?"

"No. If I were to have jumped out of my chair and beat the crap out of the computer with a Nerf bat it would have been overreacting. See the difference?"

"Not really." Darien pulled up a chair and sat next to Emma who rolled her eyes when she noticed that Darien was wearing mismatched socks. "What are you trying to write?"

"My part of the Blind Round Robin. See, someone writes a part and sends the next person their last two lines and then the next person writes a part and so on. Get it?" Darien nods and slouches back in the chair, "Uh huh. So I should be relieved that you didn't write me wearing nylons and high heels?"

"Yup. Although I do think you'd look quite fetching in nylons and heels." She giggled, "You've definitely got the legs for it." She giggled again and Darien turned a few shades of pink, "Don't go there. There's no telling what the rest of you sadists are doing to Hobbes and me. For all I know one of you has me tied to a bed or god knows that else!"

Emma grinned, "And that's a bad thing?"

"Don't start."

Bobby chose that moment to come into the room, "Don't start what?" Darien looked over at Hobbes, "She's writing, and we're the 'lucky' victims. Again." Bobby's eyes widened, "Oh no. Please tell me that we're busting some perps and not in the middle of some roman orgy?"

Emma's jaw dropped and she whacked Bobby in the chest. "Watch it mister, this is supposed to be a PG-13 fic." Bobby rubbed his chest and took a step back, "Well," he said with a relieved shrug, "that's at least some comfort. I'm still recovering from the last fic you wrote."

She pouted, "The reason I can't think of anything is probably because it's supposed to be a PG-13. This is very difficult for someone who was practically born in Naughtyville." She turned to Bobby, "And besides, you weren't complaining in that last fic, were you?"

Darien looked at Bobby and crossed his arms, "Yeah Bobby, from the few paragraphs I read you seemed to be having a good time. Weren't there handcuffs involved?"

Bobby blushed, "Alright, okay. Enough. Fawkes, how 'bout we make ourselves useful and help Emma with a plot?"

"Thank you," Emma said as she grabbed a notebook and pen. "How 'bout an I- Man and Buffy crossover?"

"Na. Been done," Darien said wrinkling his nose. "There are a few of those on FanFiction.net. How about an I-Man and Xena crossover?"

Bobby laughed, "No way. Bobby Hobbes doesn't want to get his ass kicked by Xena, my friend." Darien thought about it for a moment, "Yeah, you're probably right. It would be a major blow to the ego."

Emma grinned and made a mental note to write an I-Man/Xena crossover. "I- Man and seaQuest?"

Darien shook his head, "No. Ooh, you're a huge Anne Rice fan, why not just write a page about Lestat chasing Bobby?"

Bobby glared at Darien, "You're this close to haircut, pal."

Emma laughed, "That's an idea, but I don't want Anne Rice hunting me down and chopping my head off for writing a Lestat fic. She hates fan fiction and I like my head where it is."

The three of them sighed and went silent for a few moments before Bobby said, "I think you should do the I-Man/Buffy thing. Just don't get us killed and turned to vamps, okay?"

"Yeah," Darien added, "write something short like, oh I don't know, Dawn getting tossed off the nearest high ledge."

"But that's not exactly I-Man related."

"Yeah, but I want to see it anyway. That kid is obnoxious."

Emma grinned as Darien and Bobby left the room discussing ways to get rid of Dawn and then looked at her computer screen. "Okay, here goes," she mumbled to herself as she began to type.

The first thing that Hobbes noticed was that the cemetery was completely silent. There were no sounds of insects or animals, only the creeping feeling that something wasn't right and that he and Fawkes were being watched.

************************************************************************



Part 15 -- Lori (MiamiMomma)

The first thing that Hobbes noticed was that the cemetery was completely silent.  There were no sounds of insects or animals, only the creeping feeling that something wasn't right and that he and Fawkes were being watched.

Darien was swinging his arms side to side as he whistled. Hobbes was in front of him when he suddenly stopped.

"Hold it right there, Fawkes.do you hear that?" Hobbes was looking around.

"That was me.whistling," Darien rolled his eyes.

"No, not that," Hobbes was silent for a moment, and then spoke up again, "That. do you hear that?"

"I don't hear anything, okay, look man, can we leave.this place gives me the creeps."

"Fawkes, that's just it, there are no sounds. There should be cricket sounds and dogs barking, but there's only silence."

"Okay, I'm seriously starting to freak out here."

"That's not the only thing." Hobbes turned to look at his partner. "We're being watched."

"Okay, look, I think that maybe you've been watching to many creature feature films. We're standing in the middle of a cemetery, Hobbes. I don't need your paranoia to start clouding your mind. One of us needs to stay sane, my friend, guess that'll have to be me."

"No, Fawkes, I'm serious. We should be hearing insects or animals, not silence. Something is not right here, my friend. Bobby Hobbes knows when he's being watched."

Darien and Hobbes continued to walk through the cemetery. Still not hearing any insect sounds, Hobbes started to worry. He pulled out his gun.

Darien looked down at his partner, "Hobbes, who are you going to shoot in a cemetery at night?"

"Who ever is following us, my friend, that's who."  Hobbes started to check behind the trees and the tombstones.

Darien followed and decided to quicksilver. Hobbes watched as the silvery substance covered Darien's body and then disappeared from sight. Hobbes walked carefully not to make any sounds, but Darien made as much noise as humanly possible.

Darien stepped on a twig that made a nice loud *snap* sound. He placed his hand on a tombstone, but didn't notice the itsy bitsy spider coming close to his hand.  When Darien realized that the coast was clear, he noticed the spider and let out a shriek.

"Damn it, Fawkes, you're going to wake up the dead. Can't you keep it down; I thought you were a burglar." This was more of a statement than a question from Hobbes.  "With as much noise as you make, I'm surprised you were only caught three times."

Darien heard some footsteps and motioned to Hobbes to shut up by placing his finger to his mouth. He shook his head as he remembered that he was invisible. Darien giggled at himself as he moved closer to the sounds of the footsteps. Hobbes was right; there was someone there following them.

Hobbes heard the footsteps also and moved around the opposite direction, at least he hoped so. Darien came close to the person following them. He came up behind the lone figure and screamed, "BOO!!!"

There was a shriek and the person came running from behind a tree, right into Hobbes arms. Hobbes grabbed the person, "Alright, who the hell.CLAIRE!!!"

************************************************************************



Part 16 -- Sheryl

There was a shriek and the person came running from behind a tree, right inot Hobbes arms. Hobbes grabbed the person, "All right, who the hell ... Claire!"

"Oh, Bobby, thank God I found you!" Claire exclaimed. Hobbes was surprised to see her out of breath, and visibly frightened.

"Claire, what's wrong? How did you find us? Fawkes and I are supposed to be enjoying a nice relaxing day of fishing!"

Claire looks around trying to sense if Darein is cloaked nearby.

"Where's Darien?" she asked.

As soon as those words left her mouth she heard the familiar faint sound of quicksilver falling off Darien, she turned to her left and saw that he was right next to her.

"Claire, what's going on, are you alright?" He put one hand on her shoulder because she looked faint.

"Guys, a group of unknown commandos stormed the building this morning, they grabbed the Official and Eberts. I barely escaped. I ran into the parking deck across the street and hotwired someone else's car so I could get away without being followed."

"Claire, 'Fish and Eberts, are they OK?" Darien asked.

"They were subdued, but when I last saw them, they were not injured. I did the right thing by getting out, didn't I?"

"Definitely, I'm sure the plan was to get all three of you in hopes of luring us in." Hobbes said with his usual g-man flair for the dramatic.

"Which brings me to my question, how did you find us? This pond is on private property owned by a friend f Hobbes. He told me we were fishing, but he decided on this place at the last moment."

As Darien was asking this question, he noticed Hobbes looking uncomfortable, evading eye contact with Darien. Darien suddenly knew the answer.

"UH CRAP, you put a bug on me! I thought we were past this satge. I thought we had developed some TRUST!"

"No, no, partner, you got it all wrong. I'm wearing the tracer."

"YOU?" said both Claire and Darien.

"Yes, Hobbes.net had picked up a slight hint of a rumor that this might occur, I brought it the chief's attention, but he said he needed more info. Well, I guess he's got all the info to convince him now. I figured if anything were to happen I needed the agency to be able to find us at all times. Bobby Hobbes is prepared baby, Bobby Hobbes doesn't get caught napping with his pants down."

"Well, bobby, the Official was concerned enough to tell me about the tracer. Nice work." Claire said graciously.

"Yeah, good job there, super-secret agent. I'm just thrilled to know that I do have modicum of trust built up here. I think." He starts checking his shoes.

"Hey, how come you didn't tell me about these rumors Hobbes.net picked up?" Darien asked.

"I know your reaction would be, 'time for your meds, Beobby.' Nothing was really concrete until now."

"Oh, it's concrete, all right, it's about up to our ankles, I'd say," Darien said sarcastically.

"Well, guys, what's our enxt move? We can't go back to the agency or to our homes; they will be watching for us there. Oh Good God, we will have to bunk together somewhere until we figure out what to do." Claire said irritably. As she spoke a small smile slipped across Hobbes' face, while Darien was joted by a brief flash of the unsettling memory of his intimate encounter with the Keep.

**********************************************************************

sPart 17 -- Lauren (OboeCrazy)

"Oh good God, we will have to bunk together somewhere until we

figure out what to do." Claire said irritably. As she spoke a small

smile slipped across Hobbes' face, while Darien was jolted by a

brief flash of the unsettling memory of his intimate encounter with

the Keep.

Of course it wasn't his fault. He didn't mean to scare Claire while

she was trying to feed her snake.  The mouse she dropped took the

opportunity and ran for what it probably considered the safest place

in the Keep...up Claire's dress.  Darien didn't think he'd seen the

Keeper move so fast, or show so much, in the few seconds it took

for her to lift her dress and grab that mouse.  And after a few

smarmy comments had passed his lips before he could stop

himself, Claire had threatened to start taking his temperature from

the back end for the next month.

She was obviously still pissed, and Darien didn't want to be

hanging out in the Keep any longer then necessary.  "I'm sure the

weather is better by now..." Darien began.

"Actually worse."  Hobbes interrupted,  "Heard on the radio on the

way over that the police are banning all driving till tomorrow

morning 'cause the roads are so awful."

"Aw crap."  Darien sighed, not enjoying the idea of spending the

night at the Agency.

Claire took a deep breath, obviously trying to calm down. Finally

she said,  "Fine.  Darien, there's a spare cot in the utility closet

down the hall. Between that and the two beds in Lab 2 we should

be fine.  Bobby, you can help me find the spare blankets."

Hobbes grinned at his partner again.  Darien just rolled his eyes

and headed out into the hallway.  He found the closet and had to

jimmy the lock to get it open. Inside was a maze of random bits of

junk like mops, brooms, some old power tools, spare lightbulbs,

extension cords, some empty boxes...and buried way in the back

the rolled up mattress and folded up frame from what looked like

an old army cot.

In an excavation job worthy of an archeological dig, Darien started

pulling all the loose rubbish out of his way to get at the cot.

Within a few minutes a veritable junkyard of scrap was piled in the

hallway, and Darien had discovered that the further back he dug the

more interesting the stuff became.  Inside a box marked 'Kitchen

Utensils' was at least 10 years worth of TV Guides.  A Christmas

card dated 1983 read  "Dear Charlie, Merry Christmas. Hope the

boil is gone by New Years!".  Next to the cot frame was a Beta

tape of the original "The Invisible Man" movie that Darien was

quick to toss quite hard onto the floor. And wrapped in barbed wire

on top of a years worth of New York Times was a foot tall

representation of Michelangelo's 'David' that looked like it had

been made entirely out of burnt test tube parts. It looked like the

kind of thing Kevin would put together in his spare time.

When Eberts stumbled on the mess, he found Darien examining his

latest find with a perplexed frown,  "Is there a problem?"

"Eberts, help me out here." Darien said,  "I've found some strange junk in

this closet, but what in the world is a stuffed duckbilled platypus doing

here?"

*************************************************************



Part 18 -- Beth

"Eberts, help me out here." Darien said, "I've found some strange junk in this closet, but what in the world is a stuffed duckbilled platypus doing here?"

*****

Bobby walked in on Darien's last words. Not giving Eberts a chance to answer the question, he began to look over his partner's finds. "Hey, you know how Eberts is with small furry animals. Or, maybe you don't know?" Eberts opened his mouth to object, but Bobby continued on, as if he hadn't noticed. "Ooh, what have we here? Leather? A dog collar?" He continued to rummage through the items, with a delighted exclamation. "Yes! I knew it! A whip! So this is where you stashed the . . ."

Eberts pushed his way past Bobby, confiscating the aforementioned items. With a pasted on smile, he declared, "Robert. Darien. I think that I should continue this inventory unassisted."

Bobby was more than willing to continue his favorite sport of Eberts- baiting. Fortunately, Darien took mercy on his flustered coworker, quickly agreeing with Eberts' suggestion. "Hobbes and I could use a break. And, we're taking it: now." Leaving no room for argument, he grabbed his partner and made a hasty exit, before Eberts could change his mind.

Hobbes patted Darien on the back as they approached their vehicles. "Way to go, partner. So, now that we've got some down time, what do you want to do?" Hobbes immediately regretted his question, when he noted the grin which appeared on his partner's face.

"Hobbes, do you remember the other day, when you said something about the fact that you owed me, big-time?"

Bobby Hobbes was no one's fool. He refused to commit himself to anything until Darien came out and said what was on his mind. Cagily, he replied, "Maybe I said something along those lines, a time or two. But, then again, so have you. Was there some specific reason you mentioned this now?"

Darien answered, "Hey, you're the one who just asked me, 'What do I want to do?'"

"So, why don't you answer the question, already."

"All right, I will. I want to go bowling."

Hobbes turned away, waving over his shoulder, "Okay. 'Bye now. Have a nice time."

Before Hobbes could take a step, Darien reached out a long arm to stop him. "Hold up a minute, there. I meant to say, 'I want *us* to go bowling."

Hobbes shook his head, crossing his arms belligerently. "Uh-uhn. No, thank you. You know my opinion on the subject, but I'll share it again. Bowling is for hicks. It's uncool. Bobby Hobbes does not bowl."

Darien was not going to take "no" for an answer. "Just because the last time you went bowling you were in high school, and went with your nerdy friends, does not mean that bowling is uncool."

"Right, please forgive me. Wearing weird shoes and stupid shirts to throw a ball around is a trendy fashion statement. And besides which, my friends were not then, and are not now, nerds." Bobby stared pointedly at Darien with his last statement.

Darien flapped a hand in dismissal. "Okay, present company excepted, your high school friends were not nerds. It's just a coincidence that their names were Ralph Malph and Potsie Webber. You may have a point about the funky shoes; but, unless you're in a league that goes in for the cutesie shirts, there is no dress code in bowling."

"Fawkes, this may come as a surprise to you; but, no matter what I'm wearing, I'd much rather go to the bar, than go bowling."

"Actually, it doesn't surprise me one bit. You're afraid to try something new. And, I know why. It's not because you want to go somewhere where everybody knows your name. It's because you can't stand the fact that, once again, bowling is something that I'm better at than you are. I wish that you'd just get over it. I don't bowl for sport, or competition. I bowl because it's a great way to pick up chicks."

Hobbes stood with his mouth open, his rebuttal temporarily forgotten. Once he'd gotten his thoughts back on track, he questioned, "There's chicks?"

Darien slung his arm companionably across Bobby's shoulders. "Oh, yeah, there's chicks; especially, today."

Hooked, Bobby bit. "What's so special about today?"

"Two words: cosmic bowling."

Hesitant to expose his ignorance, Bobby nevertheless questioned, "Cosmic bowling?"

Darien took pity on his friend, and offered an explanation free from any further shots at his partner. "Yeah, it's really cool. You bowl in the dark, with special lights and glow-in-the dark stuff. There's a DJ who keeps the tunes spinning all night long, so you're almost dancing down the lane. I guarantee, you've never seen anything like it."

Darien sensed that his friend was weakening. He stared into his partner's eyes, wearing his best mournful puppy dog look. "Please? Try it, just once. And I'll never ask you again. Besides, if worse comes to worse, there is a bar in the bowling alley."

Whether it was the lure of wine, women, and song; or, the promise that Darien wouldn't ask him again, Bobby finally caved. "Okay, fine, I'll go."

Darien was so pleased, that he practically skipped the rest of the way to the van. Bobby shook his head, but he was secretly glad. If that's what it took to make his partner happy, he'd suck it up, and do something that he'd sworn he'd never to do again: bowl.

When they walked into the bowling center, Bobby had to admit, it was totally unlike anything he'd expected. Although the room was dim, it was not dark. There were numerous black lights providing illumination, with a couple of disco balls thrown in, for variety. A fog machine added to the general weirdness. Darien had his own shoes and ball, but Bobby had to rent his.

Darien offered to pay, on one condition. "You've got to get one of the glowing balls. It's worth it." Bobby agreed, as long as Darien was willing to foot the bill.

When they reached their assigned lane, Bobby took off his jacket. The black light effect on his white shirt was, in Darien's words, "awesome." Darien had removed his own overshirt, so that his white undershirt, too, was glowing. Even the damn bowling pins glowed.

Darien offered to go first, but Bobby refused. As Darien sat back and watched Bobby's perfect approach, and professional bowler's stance, he began to get the feeling that he'd been had. As the ball whizzed down the lane for a perfect strike, Darien's suspicions were confirmed.

Between trips to the bar, and chatting up women, Bobby spent his time humiliating Darien. By the time their game was over, Bobby had bowled a 230 game, to Darien's 120.

Thankfully, Bobby did not gloat on the way home, even though Darien left himself open for it. "Damn, Hobbes. I thought you didn't bowl."

Hobbes confirmed, "I don't." Then he added, with a satisfied smirk, "Now. In a previous life, the woman I was with was a league bowler, and she dragged me along. I've got a few not so pleasant memories associated with the game."

Repentant, Darien said, "I'm sorry, man. All you had to do was say something, and I would've let it alone."

With a comforting lack of hostility, Hobbes responded, "I seem to remember saying the word 'no' more than once." He continued, before Darien could apologize again. "Actually, I'm glad I went. Now, I've got a good memory, to replace some of the not so good ones. Although, I was expecting a little more. The women were either over the hill, or not out of high school. If those are the kind of chicks you've been hanging out with, I gotta tell you, partner, you need to come to the bar with me. Speaking of which, you got any booze at your place? I'm a little dry, here."

After a quick stop at the liquor store for a six pack, they made their way to Darien's apartment. On top of the alcohol they'd previously consumed while bowling, they were getting pretty toasted. Bleary eyed, Darien reached for the six pack, only to find it empty. Bobby held up the last bottle triumphantly, before quickly chugging it down.

Darien frowned at his partner. "Hobbes, how could you? I thought you were my friend!"

************************************************************************



Part 19 -- Mardel

"I'm clearing my desk, I've volunteered with Military Intel. I was

undercover over there before I can help."

 

"Undercover, you mean you passed yourself off as a Arab?" Darien

was unbelieving. Bobby had never spoken more than a few words of

Spanish before.

 

"I'm Jewish my friend. I speak Hebrew, I also speak Arabic and can

get by in Farsi. I was undercover for three months. I was only

pulled out when another agent was discovered. He was tortured

before he was killed, they were afraid he told about the other

undercover agents." Bobby was still typing, while he explained.

 

"I want to help. There has to be something I can do. Being invisible

has to be useful even over there." Darien told his friend.

 

"You can't be invisible all the time Fawkes. You don't speak the

language. You couldn't pass for a Arab." Bobby shook his head.

 

"I'll grow a beard, couldn't I be a sympathizer from some English

speaking country? I want to help."

 

"I'd spend all my time worrying about you Partner." Bobby refused

to consider taking Fawkes along.

 

There was a brief knock at the door then Alex entered.

"You're leaving aren't you?"

 

"I have to do this. I know the region, I speak the language."

 

"Good luck, I wish I could go with you." Alex nodded, she under stood

Hobbes better than she had when she first had joined the Agency.

 

"The middle east is no place for female agents."

 

"I know. Stay in touch when you can." Alex nodded and went out.

 

Hobbes grabbed up the papers from his printer and went towards the

lab again. He expected to find The Official still there.

 

"Hobbes I won't accept this. You can't leave."

 

"I'm leaving wither you accept it or not boss. I've already been in

contact with MI." Bobby walked over to Claire. He'd been in love with

her for what seemed to him like forever. Now he didn't know if he

would ever see her again. He wished he could kiss her goodbye, but

now was not the time for confessions.

 

"Keep you take good care of him. I'll be expecting to find him all in

one piece when I get back." Bobby looked into Claire eyes. They were

still damp with tears.

 

"I promise. You take care of yourself. I'll see to it you have a ample

supply of your meds to take along. You can smuggle them in with

you?"

 

"Yeah, that won't be a problem." He nodded.

 

Claire couldn't just say goodbye to Bobby like this. She didn't want

him to leave. He was still helping his country if he worked for the

Agency. But she did understand why he felt he had to go.

She took a step forward and hugged him hard. Afraid she might never

see him again.

" Stay safe Bobby."

 

Bobby hugged back, holding her tightly for a few seconds.

"I'll do my best."

 

He looked into Claire's eyes one last time then turned back towards

the Official.

 

"You had better hurry and get back to us." He shook Bobby's hand.

 

Hobbes nodded, he shook hands with Eberts too.

"God speed Robert."

 

"Thanks."

 

Bobby turned to leave Darien was standing in the doorway.

"We're partners you can't just leave. Teach me Arabic, I'm a quick

learner I want to help."

 

"I understand you want to help but I'm sure the Agency will find

more important things for you to do now. Alex will watch your back."

Bobby pushed past his partner and headed for the hallway.

 

"Hobbes besides my not knowing the language give me one reason

I couldn't pass myself off as an Arab. I've got dark eyes, dark hair?"

Darien followed him, walking beside him.

 

Bobby stopped and confronted his friend. "You're to tall."

 

"I've seen tall Arabs, since oil was discovered over there, and the

standard of living has improved."

 

"You're to pretty then." Bobby lashed out, not wanting to have to

worry about protecting Darien in a hostile country.

 

Darien smiled, he knew Bobby was just saying that to make him mad.

" There have to be young, good looking guys over there. What about

the sheik and all those stories. They must be based on some truth."

 

"Let me go with you to the east coast. Teach me Arabic on the way.

You're going to have to drive, all planes have been grounded."

 

"Darien I can't keep you in counteragent. Only Claire knows how to

make it. Conditions over there are rough, more than rough most of

the country has no electricity. It just isn't possible."

 

"Let me go to the coast with you. Teach me. Then see if military Intel

can work out the problems. You have to give me a chance." Darien

turned his head sideways imploring Bobby.

 

Bobby nodded, "The Fatman isn't going to let you just leave."

 

The door to the lab slide open. "Fawkes agent Monroe is waiting for

you. She's escorting you to Virginia."

 

"Virginia I'm going with Hobbes?"

 

"The Agency has been requested to send it's best agents east. You will

be working with the FBI. Alex has the details."

 

"Alright!"

 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

Since Alex and Darien were already traveling east Bobby went with

them. He shared driving duties with Alex, and taught Darien about

Moslem culture and started him learning Arabic.

 

The trip took four and a half days. They pulled into the security check

point at Langley near dusk Sunday. They knew the President had

declared war on terrorism. That Bobby had been right Bin-Lauden was

behind the attacks.

 

Both Darien and Bobby had not shaved during the trip. Bobby in

preparation for what he was sure would be an in country assignment.

Darien to prove he could pass himself off as an Arab.

 

Bobby had a good start on a thick dark beard. Darien had dark

stubble. But he had learned a surprising amount of Arabic in the

few days they had been working on it.

 

All three of their badges were examined then they were waved

through. Hobbes went to report in. Alex and Darien had to first

learn to whom they were to report.

 

"I'll keep in touch. If they send me out real soon. Good luck."

Hobbes told them, not wanting to have to tell them goodbye now.

 

"I think you'll see us again Hobbes. You still have a few more days

to get that beard in shape." Alex joked.

 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

Hobbes reported to Agent Franklin.

 

"Bobby Hobbes reporting for duty."

 

"Hobbes good I was wondering when you would arrive. I see you have

already started preparing for a in country mission. Good. We plan to

place as many agents among the local population as we can. You

speak Arabic and Hebrew, do you need a refresher on anything?"

 

"No, sir."

 

"There will be a briefing tomorrow for all the agents we are sending in.

You will be given a refresher course on tactics, and weapons. We are

in this for a long haul. Don't expect to be delivered to your post for

several weeks yet. Keep control on your anger, you'll need that

energy."

 

"Yes, sir. I understand."

 

"Report to the sgt. in the next room to fill out your paperwork. You'll

be assigned a room in the training center."

 

"Yes, sir." Bobby felt like saluting but as a civilian it was not required.

 

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

"Hobbes! Wait up man." Darien was calling to Bobby across the

courtyard. "Hey, you don't answer you cell phone anymore what

gives?"

 

"I turned it in." Bobby looked up at his friend. Darien looked good,

his beard was starting to look like a beard now, but it was still not

much.

 

"How's it going? Do you know when you'll be shipped out?"

Darien was touching Bobby's shoulder, smiling at him.

 

"I don't know, and if I did I don't think I'm supposed to say.

Is Alex still here? Did they find a mission for you?"

 

"Yeah she's been back and forth. She's helped round up some of the

people that helped the attackers. I'm in language class and weapons

training. But they said I might never be sent over there. I'm to

valuable." Darien shrugged.

 

"I told you Partner."

 

"You do look the part, I almost didn't recognize you before. Can you

come with me to eat? Do you have time?" Darien asked wanting to

spend time with his friend.

 

"Yeah I have some time." Bobby walked with Darien towards the

cafeteria.

 

Darien was learning Arabic, at least the spoken version. The written

would take longer. Bobby tested him and was surprised and glad to

find Darien was taking his classes seriously.

 

"I'd still like to go with you. But I guess you're right the guys in charge

said there is no way I could pass for a native. If I do go over there it

will be as a Aid Worker or something."

 

"I'm sure they will find a good use for your talents. Just give it time.

They probably have a million things to think about to decide who

needs to be sent on what mission."

 

Darien nodded, he was staring at his partner. Bobby was different,

it wasn't just the beard. He was calmer somehow, as if this attack

had somehow given him a new purpose in life.

" You doin' OK? you still taking your meds?"

 

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm not trying to mess up this chance to get back over

there and do some good."

 

"Claire said to stay in touch. She's worried about you." Darien grinned

at his partner.

 

"I'll write her a letter. Let her know I'm OK."

 

"You can call her, my cell phone is still working." Darien offered his

phone to Bobby. "You know you want to talk to her Bobby."

 

"I do want to talk to her, but I don't know what I'd say besides Hi."

 

"Ask her advice about your meds or something. Tell her you miss her."

Darien was still grinning. He missed baiting Bobby, teasing him.

 

Hobbes frowned, he knew Darien knew he liked Claire. But Darien

didn't often bring the subject up.

 

"I'll call and then pass you the phone." Darien started to dial.

 

"I can talk for myself, this isn't a Shakespeare play for crying out

loud."

Bobby took the small phone from Fawkes.

 

"Hello?" Claire voice came on the other end.

 

"Claire Hi, how are thing on the west coast?"

 

"Bobby is that you? It's so nice to hear from you. Are you alright?"

 

"I'm fine, Darien said you asked about me."

 

"Yes, yes I did. How are things going?"

 

"Fine I'm in training for an in country assignment." Bobby told her,

then thought he probably shouldn't have.

 

"I'm glad you'll be using your skills as you wanted. But I wish you

didn't have to go over sea. I worry about you." Claire's voice was

strained, emotion filled.

 

"I'm good undercover Keepy you don't have to worry." Bobby tried

to reassure her.

 

"I know you are, I know you are…." Claire suddenly had a lump in

her throat the size of Big Ben.

 

"I'll check in with you again before I leave say Hi to everyone for me."

 

"Yes, I will. Goodbye Bobby."

 

Claire burst into tears after she hung up the phone. As usual she'd lost

the chance to tell him how she felt. That she loved him and wanted

to be with him.

 

Bobby handed the phone back to Darien. "Thanks man."

 

"Yeah." Darien saw how hard it had been for Bobby to speak with her.

Not being able to say what he felt, knowing he might never see her again.

**************************************************************



Part 20 -- Liz_Z

Bobby handed the phone back to Darien.  "Thanks man."

"Yeah."  Darien saw how hard it had been for Bobby to speak with her.

 Not being able to say what he felt, knowing he might never see her again.

"Well...  I gotta go.  Busy day tomorrow, you know?"

Darien nodded.  "I gotcha."

"See ya later, partner."  Bobby walked out of the door, leaving Darien

alone with his thoughts.  And think Darien did, long and hard.  After

several minutes of deliberation he came to the conclusion that even if

Bobby couldn't tell Claire how he felt about her, she deserved to

know.  So he grabbed his car keys and headed out the door.

About twenty minutes later he pulled his car up in front of Claire's

house.  He didn't get out right away, however.  He sat in the car for

a while, playing out possible scenarios in his mind.  Then, when he

thought he knew all the possible ways Claire might react to what he

had to say, he got out of the car and walked up to her house.

However, before he had the chance to knock, Claire opened the door.

"It's about time," she said. "I was starting to think you were just

going to sit out there forever."  She gestured for Darien to come inside.

"I was thinking about some things."  Darien stepped insided, not

completely able to stifle his surprise at the state of the house.

There were boxes everywhere, most of them full.  "So you're really

going through with it, huh."  It wasn't a question, more an

affirmation of what he already knew.

Claire nodded.  "I'm not needed here anymore, the Official made that

perfectly clear."

Darien felt anger building up inside him at the mention of the

Official.  "He doesn't know squat."

"You don't need to tell me that," Claire said angrily.  "But there's

nothing I can do.  It's not like I can stop him from transferring me."

"So you're just going to let him ship you off to Washington?  Come on

Claire, I thought you were tougher than that."

Claire looked up at Darien, her eyes begging him to understand.

"Darien, there's nothing I can do.  Believe me, I've tried."

"I can threaten to quit if he makes you leave."

"You and I both know that wouldn't work," Claire said quietly.  "He'd

rip the gland out of your head with his bare hands if it meant he

could keep the bloody thing."

Darien gave Claire a desperate look.  "Look, you can't leave.  I need

you.  Hobbes needs you."  Claire's head snapped up as Darien said

this.  Satisfied that he had her full attention, Darien continued.

"He loves you, Claire."

Claire nodded, her face pale.  "I know."

Of all the things Darien had been expecting Claire to say, that wasn't

one of them.  "You do?" he said, knowing even as he spoke that what he

had just said sounded extremely lame.  But he couldn't think of

anything better to say.

"I've known for a long time."

"And what, you just ignored it?"  Darien asked, shock giving way to

anger.  "Hobbes worships the ground you walk on!  The least you could

have done was tell him whether or not he actually had a chance with you."

Claire looked up at Darien, an anguished expression on her face.

"Don't you think I wanted to tell him?  But he had that no fishing

policy, and if the Official had found out he would have fired at least

one of us, and now..."

"Tell him," Darien said quietly.  It was obvious Claire felt the same

toward Bobby as he did toward her.  "Tell him, before it's too late."

Claire shook her head sadly.  "I can't."

Darien gave her a disbelieving look.  "Why not?"

Claire turned away, saying in a sorrowful tone, "You wouldn't understand."

Darien crossed his arms, a stubborn look on his face.  "Try me."

************************************************************************



Part 21 -- Cheryl (underdog)

"Yeah." Darien saw how hard it had been for Bobby to speak with her.

Not being able to say what he felt, knowing he might never see her again.

"Darien, I'm really not in the mood to talk about it it."  replied Claire.

"Anyway, we still have some more tests to do."

Darien frowned.  He knew something was wrong but knew it would be difficult

to get Claire to open up to him.  He sighed and pulled up his sleeve so she

could draw some blood.

He hated all the tests but knew he had to cooperate if there was any chance

of ridding himself of the side effects of the gland.

As he watched Claire do her work, his mind wondered to Hobbes who was

spending the day doing paperwork do Darien could play lab rat.

He almost wished he could trade places with Hobbes.  Let him be the lab rat

and get poked and prodded all day.

Darien was startled out of his thoughts by a shout from Claire.

"I think I have done it Darien." she said as she turned to look at him.

He walked over to her.  "Done what?"

Darein tried to understand what Claire was saying as she proceeded to

explain in her science babble.

"Um, could you repeat that in English there Keep?"

"What I am trying to tell you is that I think I have found a way to cure the

spontaneous quicksilvering. " replied Claire.

Darien stared at her.  Then thought of the things he would be able to do

again and smiled.

"I need to test it first.  But if my theory is right, it should work."

Claire told Darien as began to work on the serum.

"So how long before you know it works?"

Claire grabbed a needle and filled it with an orange liquid.  "We will know

in a minute."  she replied as she injected a lab rat with the serum.  She

then proceeded to pound on the cage and to Dairen's amazement, the rat did

not disappear.

Claire turned to Darien with a smile on her face. "It worked."

Darien jumped for joy.  He grabbed Claire and swung her around, giddy with

excitement.

"So Keep, when will this be ready for me to try?"

"I need to do a few more tests.  But soon Darien, very soon."

Just then, the door to the keep opened.

As Hobbes walked into the keep, he was grabbed by Darien.  Darien hugged him

and kissed him full on the mouth before rushing out of the keep.

********************************************************************



Part 22 -- Mandy

As Hobbes walked into the keep, he was grabbed by Darien.  Darien hugged him

and kissed him full on the mouth before rushing out of the keep.

"What the hell?" Hobbes asked aloud.

He was utterly confused. His mind retraced the moment, and he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He continued into the keep.

"Hey Claire." He said.

He smiled as she turned around, she had a large grin on her face.

"What's going on?" He asked his confusion growing deeper.

"What ever do you mean Bobby?" She asked slyly.

"What do you mean what do I mean? I was just kissed by Darien. Did you get that… Darien KISSED me! That was gross. But then I come in here and you're wearing that silly grin."

"Just happy I suppose. Why are you here?" She wrinkled her brow but the smile didn't leave her face.

Bobby looked around. Why was he there? He couldn't exactly remember, the odd moment he'd just had seemed to wipe his brain clean.

"Um… just looking for Darien."

"You just missed him." She said and turned back to her work.

~~

Bobby drove Golda down the familiar streets on his way to Darien's apartment. He had no idea where Darien had gone, but he guessed his apartment was a good place to start looking.

He pulled the van into an empty spot in the lot in front of Darien's place. He'd never seen so many vehicles in front of Darien's apartment, it piqued his curiosity.

He got out of the van and made his way up to Darien's door.

He didn't bother knocking on the door, with the volume of the stereo, Darien would never hear him anyway.

Bobby stopped in his tracks as he saw the large group of people in the small apartment.

"Darien!" He called as he entered the apartment.

He found Darien in the kitchen putting bottles of Colt 45 in an ice filled cooler.

"Bobby! Glad you could make it!" He yelled happily.

"Sure partner. What's going on?"

"Oh man, you're never going to believe what I heard today." He spoke excitedly.

"What, tell me." Bobby's excitement was rapidly rising as well.

Darien smiled slyly.

"I'm going to be a daddy!"

"WHAT! Who have you f… I mean, who's the mom?"

"I don't know."

Bobby looked at him, his confusion returning. "Come again."

"No you see, awhile back.. before I got the gland, I donated some sperm. I needed the money, you'd have done it too. Anyway, I don't know why they did it, but the sperm bank called this morning and told me that my sperm had been given to someone and that it had fertilized the egg."

"That's why you're having a party?"

"Hell no. I'm having the party because Claire said that she thinks she found a safe way of removing the gland."

"Really?" Bobby asked as a smile spread across his lips.

"Yeah. She said it was going to take months of tests and crap like that, but she said she thinks it'll work."

"Well, I guess congratulations are in order then." Bobby said sadly. He was happy for Darien, but if he got the gland removed, he'd probably leave the agency and never look back. It seemed to Bobby that just as they were breaking through all the barriers and becoming friends, real friends Darien was given the opportunity to leave.

~~

Darien walked into the agency at ten till ten, later than usual. He walked down to the keep and slid his card through the slot. When the door opened, he saw Claire sitting in her chair and Bobby standing above her. Claire was hunched over and her back was rising and falling rapidly. Darien walked over to them and saw that she was crying.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He asked softly.

Claire looked up at him with tears still streaming out of her eyes.

"Oh Darien, I am so sorry." She said as she threw her arms around him and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Sorry for what?" He asked confused, flicking his eyes to Bobby.

"Look around Partner, tell me what you see. Or rather, what you don't see."

Darien pulled away from Claire and let his eyes roam the room, trying to keep from looking for something specific.

"Oh crap." Darien cursed as he saw what was missing. "What happened?" He asked.

Everything in the lab was the same, which was why Darien had missed it, but Claire's computers were gone. His dream had been so close, but now with Claire's computers gone he'd never be able to reach that dream. He sat down on the floor hard and put his head in his hands as Bobby and Claire rushed to his side.

**********************************************************************

Part 23 -- Silver

His dream had been so close, but now with Claire's computers gone he'd never be able to reach that dream. He sat down hard on the floor placing his head in his hands, as Bobby and Claire rushed to his side.

"Darien, it's alright!" Claire grasped him by the shoulders, shaking him slightly. "Darien? Look at me."

"Come on, kid. Ya' can't just give up now." He could feel Bobby's presence beside him even without actual physical contact.

"It's gone, everything's gone," he mourned.

"Hey, come on. You still got the Keep, right? She'll figure it all out from scratch if she has to."

"Better than that, boys." Something in Claire's voice made Darien look up at her face.

"I've been saving every bit of data onto the computer upstairs, too. Remember, it's the only other one that's part of my closed network? Besides that, I've also got backup disks that I update once a week."

"That's my girl," Bobby chortled. "See, Fawkes, I told you she'd take care of you." He pounded on Darien's back, nearly knocking him over.

"Are you sure, Claire?" Darien caught her hands, fighting not to let hope revive too quickly and overwhelm him.

"Let's get upstairs and take a look." She smiled forgivingly at him.

"Better get Eberts," Bobby grumbled. "Like he's made sure everybody knows, nobody but him and the fat man have access to that frickin' room."

"Besides which, we need to report this to the Official," Claire pointed out.

"Let's just go, okay guys?" Darien grabbed each of them by the shoulder and half-shoved half-dragged them toward the door.

The strain was palpable as they made their way upstairs to the Official's office. Darien realized that both of his friends were feeling as much concern about his fate as he was. Sure, if he were as paranoid as Hobbes he could tell himself that Claire was more worried by the loss of vast amounts of data and research, but he'd come to know her better than that. And Hobbes... these day, he realized, Bobby's main worry seemed to be him. What Bobby had said about Claire taking care of him was only half the story. Both of his friends could be counted on. Together they would somehow get through this crisis, just as they had so many since his life was overturned by Kevin implanting the gland in his brain and then getting killed before he could remove it again.

"Don't any of you know how to knock?" the Official snarled as they burst in through the door. Eberts slipped something behind his back too quickly for Darien to see what it was. For once he let the opportunity to harass the yes-man slide. It was indicative that Bobby did the same. Bobby missed little, so it had to be a deliberate choice.

"Sir, we have a major problem," Claire beat them both to the punch.

"I would say that at the moment we have more than one. Shouldn't the three of you be..."

"Sir, ya gotta listen." It wasn't often that Bobby was willing to interrupt his chief so insistently. "Claire's lab's been trashed. All her computers are gone. There ain't nuthin' left down there of all her research on the frickin' gland."

"They reached the lab as well?" the Official was listening to them now.

"Claire, all your research...?" Eberts was alarmed enough to plow right in. "What about your latest advances?"

"That's why we're here," Claire responded. "We need to get to the computer upstairs and check its memory. Backups of everything should still be there."

"Go." The Official spoke before even Eberts could look around at him.

Darien had to admit that in an emergency, Eberts could actually hotfoot it pretty well. Maybe not as fast as Bobby, but it didn't take any of them long to reach the unobtrusive door that led to the most sophisticated room in the entire building.

"Wow, this is quite a setup." Darien gazed at the multiple screens set into the wall.

"You mean was quite a setup." Darien looked at Bobby, startled by the resignation in his tone, then followed his gaze down.

It must have been denial that made him not see the destruction as soon as they entered. The equipment here had not been taken away wholesale the way Claire's had been. The chances that any of it would ever work again were remote, to say the least.

"What a bloody mess!" Claire exclaimed.

"Where?" Bobby and Eberts exclaimed together in surprise and alarm, respectively.

Claire gestured at the hacked up bits of electronic parts.

"Uh, Keep?" Bobby looked at her in confusion. "I don't see any blood."

"Not bloody, Bobby, just a bloody mess. An incredible degree of destruction. A..."

"I think its one of those British things, man." Darien actually felt a moment of amusement, before the reality of the situation hit him.

"Then it really is all gone!" he moaned.

"Hold on, Darien." Claire rushed to an undamaged cabinet on the other side of the room. "Let me check my backup disks." She pulled the cabinet doors wide open.

A scrap of paper floated gently to the floor.

Otherwise the cabinet was, like Old Mother Hubbard's cupboard, quite bare.

Bobby pounced on the scrap.

"The sons-of-bitches are laughing at us!" he snarled. He held up the paper with the writing on it facing the others.

"Thank you for your generous contribution to science." The words were printed in a calligraphy script. There was no signature, but then one was hardly necessary.

"Oh, bum." Claire muttered darkly.

"They could have taken the disks anywhere. We'll never get it all back." Darien could feel the overwhelming despair creeping into his voice, but didn't really care. He had more than a little right to whine, in his opinion.

"Hold on..." Bobby was holding the paper up to the light, then peering at it closely. "Well, well, well. And what have we here?" he muttered.

"What? Come on Hobbes, what is it?"

"What it is, my friend, is an impression."

"Huh, Hobbes, man, I'm dyin' here and your playing games? I don't wanna see your impressions!" Darien felt so frantic he wondered if he was hallucinating the entire conversation.

"Not that kind of impression, kid. It's right here on the paper." He squinted and muttered "1301, or maybe it's a seven... yeah, that's a seven." He looked over at Darien with a smirk. "Yeah," he said, "we got us an address some shmuck scribbled down on the same pad a' paper. They use a pencil so it come through nice and clear."

"So..." Darien shook his head "You're telling me what, exactly."

"I'm tellin' ya that my trained instinct and years of experience say this is the address where we'll find our friends who paid us this little visit."

"And since the data disks aren't here," Claire interjected, "They must have taken them along rather than destroying them."

"Which means we can go find these mooks and take them back."

Darien stared at them, then suddenly felt the urge to look over at Eberts. Eberts looked back with his usual calm blandness.

"I would say at the very least it should make an excellent starting place. Although the likelihood of the address being in and of itself..."

"Shut up, Eberts." Bobby managed to sound long-suffering. "You wouldn't know a solid lead if it bit you on the..."

"Well come on then, let's not just stand around here." Darien interrupted. "Let's get out there. We gotta get this... data... stuff back!"

"Hi ho, and away we go." Bobby led the charge out the door.

* * * *

Look, man, there's not a thing happening." Darien complained from the passenger's seat. Bobby's calmness when on stakeout never made sense to him. It wasn't logical that a man who at any other time had to be constantly in motion would be able to assume such an incredibly professional quiet in certain situations. "What do you say I kinda slide inside and check out, you know, the lay of the land."

"Not a good idea, junior. Remember, they smashed all the vials of counteragent. You go nutso on us, and you know where you'll be spending the next coupla' days until Claire finishes making more." Hobbes reminded him.

"Who do we have here?" he sat up and nudged Darien. Darien looked around, then finally spotted the man just slipping into a side door down the alley. "Told you it was a good idea to park where we could see that entrance, too. In this neighborhood, who's gonna notice one more rusty pile of junk."

"Okay, if I say you were right, will you let it go?" Darien responded. But he couldn't resist adding as they climbed out of the van, "But they do all know what it looks like, and parking in plain sight..."

"Hiding in plain sight my friend. First thing they teach you at Quantico. Let's move it, there, gland boy."

Darien followed his partner as he crept toward the door in the alleyway. Bobby kept his back against the brick wall, gun in hand as he sidestepped closer. Darien stayed behind him and near the wall, but he walked normally.

Which actually helped when several sandbags dropped seemingly out of the sky. Darien realized as he jumped back that they must have been dangled over the edge of the roof and just allowed to fall straight down. Because he had been a step away, they missed him.

Bobby wasn't so lucky. On caught his right shoulder, and as he started to go down a second one smashed him between the shoulderblades.

Without thinking, Darien sprinted to his friend's side. Bobby was motionless, his face pressed to the filthy pavement. When Darien fearfully rolled him over, however, he grunted in pain and his eyes popped open.

"Damn it, Fawkes, it's an ambush. Get the hell out."

"It's a little late for that, Agent Hobbes."

Darien looked up to see several men standing in a semi-circle around them, each one with a gun that looked more deadly than the previous.

"Very kind of you gentlemen to walk into our little trap so neatly. Now, if you will please help your friend up, Agent Fawkes, someone is waiting inside to speak with you."

Bobby started to protest, but Darien pressed his hand over his mouth.

"Hobbes, I think they mean it with the guns. Come on, don't give them a reason to shoot us, huh?"

"Oh, don't so be concerned, we have instructions not to kill you Mr. Fawkes, and I believe it is preferred that we bring you in undamaged."

Bobby wasn't quite able to suppress an exclamation of pain as Darien helped him to his feet.

"Watch the shoulder, damn it," he muttered. "I think maybe it's broke."

"You call this undamaged?" Darien snapped.

"Oh, we're allowed to do pretty much any damage we want to him."

"Nice," Bobby muttered, obviously to himself. "First he gets a higher pay rating, now even the bad guys say I'm more expendable than he is."

"Well, actually, we thought we'd keep you alive for the moment, Agent Hobbes. Unless of course your partner should give us a good reason to kill you."

"Aw, crap." They spoke in unison.

"We gotta stop doing that."

"Hobbes, you want to focus here?" Darien was still supporting a worrisome amount of Bobby's weight as they moved down the hall with gunmen ahead of and behind them.

When they entered a room with several more men in it, one of their guards grabbed Bobby's other arm and wrenched him from Darien's grip. A shove sent the compact agent staggering against a heavy straight-back chair. He clutched at the chair arm, trying to hold himself up, but slowly slid to the floor.

Darien's worry was increasing. Bobby was tough; getting hit they way he had shouldn't have him in this bad a shape. Had one of the sand bags actually landed on his head?

"Very well, take these data disks straight to home office." It was obvious who was in charge here. But what was more interesting was that he was addressing a young woman who held two boxes of computer disks in her hands. "Tell them we'll be bringing in the gland receptacle shortly. I want to have a little conversation with these two gentlemen first."

Darien's glance flew to Bobby's face. How could he risk his friend's life, even for a chance to get all that research back? If only Bobby weren't so helpless at the moment.

For just a moment, Bobby looked back at him with total alertness shining in his eyes. He nodded his head just the slightest bit before letting it drop as though he were too weak and injured to hold it up any longer.

The sly little tiger was faking it!

But did he have a plan, or was he waiting for Darien to start something? Darien watched in frustration as his possible salvation moved past him toward the door and possibly out of his life forever.

"Now!" The shout from Bobby stung him to an automatic reaction he wouldn't have believed the older man had really trained into him. Without hesitation he grabbed the boxes and quicksilvered them and himself. He dove into a corner to hide them behind a table.

By the time he turned around, Bobby had launched himself off the floor and into the group of gunmen, who had made the mistake, along with letting their guard down, of standing together near the door.

Not one of the four men had less than five inches height on Bobby. One of them was built like a wrestler. Despite all this, Bobby dove into the thick of them.

"Fawkes, get your butt outta here!" He shouted the plea without even looking around. He knew his partner so well, Darien realized, that he didn't have to see him to know that the younger man would try to help rather than flee with the disks.

"We can't take 'em all, but you can go for help."

It was especially annoying when he made so much sense. And as if to emphasize the statement, two of the men latched onto Bobby's arms and pulled him to the side. Before they could do more, however, he lifted both feet, forcing them to take his weight, and kicked out against the wall behind him.

The melee swayed abruptly away from the door, and Darien dashed to it. When he yanked it wide, the leader of the group shouted orders. Bobby's sparing partners turned away obediently, except for one who paused long enough to kick the downed agent hard, once in the thigh and twice more in the ribs.

The room cleared incredibly fast. Out in the hallway the speed with which they got organized was impressive.

Darien gently pushed the door almost closed before he let the quicksilver fall from his body.

"What a bunch of losers," he commented. "Can you believe they fell for the two oldest tricks in the book?" He turned to Bobby with a grin.

Bobby was still stretched on the floor, gulping shallow breaths.

"Oh, Crap." Darien hurried to him.

"Hey, they're all gone. You don't have to fake being hurt any more." He knelt down. "Come on, Bobby. Get up. We gotta get out of here before they figure out they've been had."

"Just," Bobby's voice was tight with pain. "Just give me a second. Think the bastard broke something."

"Let me help." Darien tried to lift Bobby to his feet, but Bobby broke away and rolled onto his side, clutching at the arm the younger man had gripped.

"I'm afraid that wasn't all faking, kid." He groaned "Those damn sandbags carry a wallop."

"Come on man, we don't have time for this." Darien's worry drove him to impatience. Before he could urge any further, though, Bobby was grabbing the nearest piece of furniture and levering himself up.

"Ya got any plans for how we get past that mob? Where are the disks, anyway?"

"Uh..." Darien dove back into the corner and retrieved his prize. "The only thing I can think of is shooming both of us and running like hell."

"Or we can go upstairs and slide out by the fire escape before they think of it."

"How do we find it? Are you sure this building has one."

"One of these days I'm gonna get you to pay attention and learn how to properly scope out a site before the action gets underway."

Darien stopped cold. "Uh, Bobby?" he said. "I do know what you mean, there, buddy. In my vernacular it's called 'casing the mark'."

Bobby chuckled, but it turned into a wince.

"Let's get going," he said. "I marked down the fire escape when we first got here. It's on the other side from where we came in." He paused in the door and looked around quickly. "It's that way. Find the stairs first."

Darien started to reach for him, to assist him, but hesitated. Without acknowledging the gesture, Bobby told him: "Lead the way, kid, I'll be right behind you."

Darien managed to find the stairs without anyone spotting them. He had barely started up, however, when he heard a shout.

"Get out of here now. I've got him." Bobby snapped before he took off running. With a groan, Darien waffled, then finally obeyed, muttering to himself, "If you don't make it out alive, I swear I'll kill you."

He found the fire escape right around the corner from the top of the stairs. He slid down it and ran for the van. He got the engine started, and pulled around so he could see the escape route, but waited. He wasn't sure he could abandon Bobby no matter what. Just when he was becoming certain he would have to go back in if he wanted to see his partner alive again, the familiar compact form appeared. Again, Bobby had only moved a few feet from the window when a man appeared behind him.

Darien watched helplessly as the man tackled Bobby, and the pair struggled. He thought he felt his heart lurch when Bobby was rolled off of the iron platform. He flashed back on the sight of Bobby lying motionless in a pool of blood under another fire escape.

While he was frozen, however, Bobby grabbed onto the edge. When his opponent leaned forward to try to force him off, he caught him by the shirtfront. In the end it was the gunman who fell to the pavement below, while Bobby hoisted himself back up and then climbed carefully down.

Darien was beginning to wonder just how badly his partner really was injured. It was likely, he feared, that he was running on adrenaline that allowed him to ignore his pain. Whatever, he covered the distance to the van quickly, and climbed into the passenger seat without arguing.

"You did get the disks, right?"

"Right behind the seat." Darien hesitated. "Are you alright?"

"I'll live."

"Yeah, but..."

"Darien, let it be, okay?"

Darien watched him, but drove in silence. He was still moving under his own power and seemed pretty steady when they reached the Agency. With a pale and obviously in pain Bobby limping down the hall at his side, Darien prayed the disks they had recovered at such a cost actually contained the data that could free him; that they hadn't lost it all after all. Since Claire's computers had not yet been replaced, they had to go to Eberts again to find out.

***********************************************************************



Part 24 -- Gill

With a pale and obviously in pain Bobby limping down the hall at his side,

Darien prayed the disks they had recorved at such a cost actually contained

the data that could free him; that they hadn't lost it all after all.  Since

Claire's computer had not yet been replaced, they had to go to Eberts again

to find out.



'Hey Hobbes, why don't you get down to the keep and see Claire,' said Darien

looking worriedly at Bobby, who looked even more to be in pain.  "and if you

want I will give you at least half an hour before I turn up!" he said with a

you know wink! ''What you talking about Fawkes!" Bobby said bluntly, "You

saying I have feelings for Keepie?".  "Hobbes! lets NOT go there again with

your company pier speech, besides you look like crap, you took quite a

beating there partner'"  Yeah will take  more than a couple of crystal lite

mooks to take down Bobby Hobbes my friend"  But then Bobby holds onto the

side of his chest with a painful look, "But I do think I may have a couple of

ribs broken or something" he said.  Darien puts his hand on Bobby's shoulder.

 "I'll go and see Eberts and see what we can come up with from these disks,"

"OK partner" said Bobby, "see you in a little while,  Oh and Fawkes!"  Bobby

turns round with a smile on his face, "if you want to give me some time, You

know!".  "Get out of here Hobbes."  Darien says laughing.

Darien walks into the small room Eberts has for an office.  "Hey Ebes" said

Darien.  "Hello agent Fawkes" says Eberts standing and smoothing down his

jacket, "what can I do for you?"  "I need your help with these" Darien says

as he hand the disks to Eberts.  "I believe there is information here on how

to get the gland out, and I would like your help, to get it" Darien looks to

Eberts hopefully.  "Darien you know I cant help you with this without the

officials permission."  "I don't care what the fat man thinks" Darien says

with a raised voice.  "Eberts, we went thorough a lot to get these, Bobby's

hurt and with the keep now, Ebes, these disks are a chance for me, will you

help?"  "Help you with what, Agent Fawkes?"  Darien turns round and looks

into the face of an angry looking official.  "Ahh Crap!!" are his only words:

***************************************************************



Part 25 -- Nikki

"Bobby is hurt and with keep now", said Darien. "Ebes,

these discs are a chance for me, will you help".

"Help you with what agent Fawkes". Darien turns round to look into the face of an angry official.

"Aha crap!" are his only words!

_______________________________________________________________

"What happened?" barked The Official, glaring at a disheveled Darien.

"Um, well … I … uh. Hobbes, kinda fell and hurt himself. And … uh … I need Eberts to … uh … look over these. Um, we got them from the mission," Darien said stumbling over his words.

"Eberts, is busy. I will look over these," said The Official, snatching the disks, spinning around and striding down the halls.

As The Official walked off, Darien let out a breath he didn't realized he was holding, "Man, that was close."

Darien ran back to the Keep, hoping that Claire had figured out some way to help Bobby so that they could get back out on the field.

As the door to the Keep slid open, Darien heard Claire sobbing but could not see her in the room.

"Claire? Claire, what's wrong?" Darien asked rushing over, and knelling next to her.

"It's all my fault. There is nothing I can do, for either of you. I have let down all of my friends," she sobbed, falling into Darien's arms.

************************************************************************



Part 26 -- Carl

THE HUMOROUS ENDING

"It's all my fault. There is nothing I can do, for either of you. I have let

down all of my friends," she sobbed, falling into Darien's arms.

Darien sighed inwardly and held her. He always seemed to end up

with the ones consoling the pain of others. Maybe it was a sign. Didn't

a famous philosopher once say that the only way to achieve nirvana

was through suffering? That's the way it's supposed to work, at least.

But in life, things rarely worked out the way they should. It's all part of

the grand design.

He tried to gently free himself from her bear hug, to look into her eyes

and tell her that everything was going to be all right. Sensing this, she

backed up a step. He put his large hands on her shoulders.

He opened his mouth to speak, his brown eyes mirroring his concern.

But he didn't have the slightest idea what to say. The blow on his head

several months back had been playing tricks on his memory, and

although he couldn't recall all the details of what had just occurred, he

knew certain parts had been stranger than even he could explain. Who

was this woman in front of him? She had Claire's voice and

mannerisms, but she had long dark brown hair and eyes to die for.

She looked as if she wanted to whisper something in his ear, and after

all they'd been through, Darien wasn't in the mood to protest.

Several paces back, Hobbes shifted from foot to foot. He was used to

this type of interaction by now. All the chicks dug Darien: the aquatic

chick, the Japanese chick, the chick with the really smart computer box,

the blind chick. But he'd gotten used to it. It was all part of the routine.

"You're the best, Darien," she said, a small, hopeful smile on her lips.

"And I want to give you something to remember me by for a long time."

Aaaagh, sighed Hobbes. Another romantic interlude I have to sit

through.

As Darien looked at her, she reached into one of her pockets and

pulled out a rubber chicken. She beamed as she clapped it into his

hand.

When she wasn't looking, Darien glanced back at Hobbes, puzzled.

Hobbes responded with a slight shrug of the shoulders.

"This is a lovely chicken, truly," Darien said, looking down at her. "But,

um... what does it mean?"

She scanned his face with a hurt expression in her eyes. Then the light

of recognition crept into them.

"Oh, you wouldn't know, would you?" she responded, almost

apologetically. "See, the writer before you dropped out at the last

minute. She wrote a funny bit about how we bonded in our experiences

on a chicken ranch. This is a symbol of that experience. But she never

sent it, so you wouldn't know about it. Does that make sense?"

"Not really," Darien said, massaging his temples.

"That's why you don't know which woman I am, either."

Darien looked at Hobbes for understanding. He shrugged, as if to

indicate that he didn't know either.

"The truth is," she said, "Eberts has been feeding me information

about this ongoing story through a remote-controlled headset. I'm

really the only one who knows what's going on. Since you don't know

what kind of history we've had up to this point, it's probably appropriate

that we don't finish up this story with a big sex scene. Who knows -- in

reality, you may hate me."

"Can we pretend that I don't and split the difference?" Darien asked

hopefully. "I mean, there's a lot of ladies that I'm sure are listening to

this story and I'm sure they'll be disappointed if we don't throw a little

nooky action in here."

"Goodbye, Darien. I'll see you on the other side. Remember me." She

pressed a button in a bracelet on her wrist, and vanished.

Darien turned back to Fawkes. "Was that beaming technology, or

something?"

Hobbes walked forward, scratching his pate. "I dunno, my friend. I

thought this was reality."

"Well, then, reality stinks."

"Get used to women pulling disappearing acts," said Hobbes, matter-

of-factly. "It's a fact of life."

"You're right," Darien agreed.

Hobbes changed the subject. "Want to get something to eat?"

"Only if you don't pull that vanishing tip trick."

"Hey," replied Hobbes, grinning, "that's your department... remember?"

The two friends laughed, and walked back to the car.



THE SAD ENDING

"It's all my fault. There is nothing I can do, for either of you. I have let

down all of my friends," she sobbed, falling into Darien's arms.

Letting them down was the least of their worries. Because of the bug

she'd been wearing, their position had been easy to pinpoint. Now the

Chrysalis agents were coming out of the woodwork... five, seven...

more than he and six of the best Agency personnel could reasonably

handle.

"Hobbes, there's too many of them," said Darien, quickly assessing the

situation. "They have us pinned down."

"If they didn't have those infravision goggles, the next course of action

would be pretty clear," Hobbes conceded. "I feel like I'm back at the

Alamo."

A bullet whizzed by their heads. Darien pulled his companion to the

ground, and Hobbes followed suit. Suddenly, it seemed as if he didn't

recognize her... what was wrong here?

"You were never in the Alamo," Darien said suddenly, shooting him a

glance.

"Sorry," Hobbes corrected. "Past life. I was thinking of Ruby Ridge."

As they crawled for cover on their bellies, a faint whirring sound grew

steadily louder over the horizon. It was a helicopter with a blue circle on

it -- a symbol for The Agency.

The copter swung low, firing machine guns at the clearing in front of

the Chrysalis agents. They ducked for cover, but it didn't slow their

advancement.

Darien and Hobbes, hurring their friend along, made it to a low gully in

a broad clearing flanked by a few trees. Darien made a ball with his fist

while Hobbes reloaded.

"Freeze!" a Chrysalis agent yelled who appeared as if from nowhere.

"Hands above your head."

Darien was the first to comply, arching his arms over his head. With a

quick thrust, he released a quicksilvered rock the size of a softball,

which caught the fiend squarely in his left temple. He went down.

Hobbes nodded approvingly. "That's one. But where's his backup?"

His question was answered soon enough. The woman cried out,

leaping upward as another Chrysalis agent came into view.

"Get down!" Darien commanded.

She leapt in front of him as a single shot rang out. Hobbes fell. As

Darien turned to face him, he saw that he was merely achieving a

defensive position. His gun newly loaded, Hobbes returned fire, and

the agent went down.

Darien held onto the woman's arm. As he prepared to run with her, he

noticed a crimson stain spreading across the front of her shirt. His jaw

dropped as she fell against him.

Wind blew leaves as the roaring helicopter landed in the clearing. A

medical team emerged, but he sensed it was already too late.

***

The Keeper attended to Darien while the medics pronounced the

mysterious woman dead. The masquerade she had pulled was

impressive indeed.

"Her real name was Brianne Adaire," Hobbes said, looking over the

recent briefing notes. "Your theory was right, Keep ... she was on the

advance team for the gland creation, and she created the synthetic

protein that kept it alive. Chrysalis blackmailed her into helping them. I

don't think she realized what she was doing until it was too late."

"I have her notes, Darien," Claire said as assuringly as she could

manage. "We don't know whether the regression gene Chrysalis

administered to you will even take effect."

Darien closed his eyes, tried to think optimistic thoughts. But he

couldn't. His optimism had run out. Hobbes studied him, threw a

hopeful glance at Claire. Biting her lower lip, she made sure Darien

wasn't looking and slowly shook her head.



THE SURPRISE ENDING

"It's all my fault. There is nothing I can do, for either of you. I have let

down all of my friends," she sobbed, falling into Darien's arms.

The next five minutes were a blur, so much so that Hobbes and Darien

were hard-pressed to explain what had happened. There they were,

facing the cliffhanger of their careers, when a blinding flash of light hit

them in the eyes. They were no longer in danger, but they had no idea

where they were or how much time had passed.

"If only I'd been able to get you out of there sooner," a female voice

said. It sounded a lot like Claire's, but with subtle differences.

"Where are we?" Darien said slowly. "Hobbes... Hobbes, where are

you?"

"He's fine, Darien," the woman said. "That's a nasty cut on your cheek

you have there." She ran what felt like a handkerchief over it to clean the

wound, in what appeared to be a final act of tenderness, then slid her

slender hands around his face.

"There's too much to explain, and not enough time to do it," she said,

kissing him firmly on the lips. "An Agency team will find you soon

enough. You're safe, I made sure of that, and your vision will return

shortly. Just remember the next time we meet that you owe me your

life."

"Wait!" Darien cried. "If you're going to leave us like this, could you at

least tell me what your real name is?"

"Brianne," she said. He heard a door close, followed by silence.

***

"Well done, Anders," a man in a stylish business suit said, turning the

petri dish over in his hands. "Introducing Darien into a paradigm of

shifting scenarios kept him and his partner off balance enough to

where they won't suspect a thing."

"Thank you," the woman who called herself Briane said. "There was

more than enough blood on the handkerchief to get a good DNA

sample."

"Ideally," said Stark, turning toward her, "the clone we produce will be

able to take Darien's place. But there's a chance he won't respond to

conditioning. In that scenario, we'll extract the gland and implant it in

one of our best agents. You will be available for consultation, of

course? We'll double your usual fee if the gland doesn't need to be

harvested."

"That sounds about right," she replied coolly.

"Your services have been exemplary," Stark said, extending his hand.

"It will be a pleasure continuing to work with you, Dr. Anders."

"Please," she responded with a slight smile, "call me Brianne."

****************************************************************

That's all, folks!