OK, I would just like to take this moment to apologize for not having posted in forever. I didn't mean to leave y'all hanging like this, but between the stresses of real life, my two-week trip to Alabama, and the lack of inspiration on the part of the plot bunnies, I have been neglecting this story severely. I hope not to leave you hanging like this again. I will probably post slowly, but I do intend to post.

And now, on with the story!

Bobby frowned as Darien pulled the car up in front of the Harding building. "Ya know, I really don't wanna do this. I have this thing about doctor's appointments..."

Darien rolled his eyes. "Just get in there, let Claire look you over, and get out. You wanna get this over with, right?" Bobby nodded reluctantly. "So get it over with," Darien insisted.

Sophie poked her head up through the space between the two front seats. "Hurry back," she said, giving Bobby a distinctly flirtatious wink.

"If he does, it won't be to spend time with you," Darien muttered.

Sophie raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so you think he'd rather spend time with you? Funny, Fawkes, I didn't think you swung that way."

Darien gave Sophie an enraged glare and opened his mouth to protest, but Bobby held up a hand. "Just stop it, you two! Right now. You sound like my parents."

Sophie turned to Bobby. "Your mother thought your father was gay?"

"No!" Bobby yelped. "My point is, you two are giving me a headache, so shut the hell up!"

Darien glared at Sophie. "Get outta the car, before I throw you out."

Sophie rolled her eyes and climbed out of Darien's car. "Okay, it's official -- chivalry is dead."

"Yeah, it died when it met you," Darien mumbled.

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Okay, that's it. I'll take the tests over having to listen to this crap any day." He climbed out of the car and walked into the Agency. He just barely managed to navigate his way by memory back to the lab he had visited that morning and fumbled through his pockets until he found the keycard, sliding it through the slot. The door swung open, allowing him entrance to the lab once again.

"Claire?" he asked, his eyes sweeping across the room in search of his lovely Keeper.

Claire looked up from the stack of files she had been reading. "Hello Bobby," she said, giving him a brief smile. Then, in a tone that carried traces of admonishment, "You're late."

"Yeah, well, the Official found something to keep me busy," Bobby said flippantly. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and tried to ignore the fact that Claire had stood up and was now walking toward a large selection of medical instruments that had been laid out on one of her lab tables. "So, umm... what do I do?"

"Put this on," Claire said, gesturing to a hospital gown that had been placed on the uncomfortable chair Bobby had been given his shot in earlier.

Bobby picked up the flimsy piece of material and raised an eyebrow. "Wow, Keepy, don't you think this is a little sudden?" Claire rolled her eyes. Bobby smirked and unfolded the hospital gown. "So, umm, where am I supposed to change?"

"Over there." Claire pointed at a small partition that had been assembled in a corner of the room. Bobby nodded and walked over and hurriedly stripped off his clothes, more than a little self-conscious about doing this when Claire was just on the other side of the room. Sure, she was a beautiful woman, and a doctor, so she was probably used to seeing men in a state of undress, but Bobby had only met her this morning and he wasn't particularly comfortable with her seeing him in nothing but a hospital gown, no matter the fact that he was attracted to her.

Bobby pulled on the hospital gown and peeked out from behind the partition. "Is it safe to come out?" he asked in a teasing tone that he hoped covered up the nervous quaver he could detect in his voice. He was not looking forward to what was sure to come next.

"Perfectly," Claire said, snapping on a pair of rubber gloves.

Bobby took a deep breath and then stepped out from behind the partition, walking casually, or so he hoped, over to the uncomfortable chair and taking a seat. He shifted his weight in the chair a bit, trying to find a position that didn't make him feel like a bug under a microscope, but finally gave up when that proved impossible.

Claire picked up a jar of Vaseline and walked up to Bobby, matter-of-factly scooping out a large portion of the slimy stuff with two gloved fingers. Bobby raised an eyebrow. "What're you gonna do with that?"

Claire pursed her lips and said in a business-like tone, "Turn over."

Bobby paled. "Aw crap...."

***********

Darien sat in front of an antiquated computer, the only one he had been able to convince Eberts to put in his office. He leaned forward, lifted a hand to the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes, and heaved a deep sigh. He had been doing research for hours, trying to get enough information on the C-8400 project to figure out Allianora's potential targets, but any and all information pertaining to the project seemed shrouded in a mountain of red tape and blacked-out names. The only thing he had succeeded in doing so far was to give himself a headache.

His head snapped up as he heard the sound of the office door creaking open. He turned around just in time to watch Bobby walk in, looking distinctly upset. "Hey Hobbesy, how was the physical?" he asked, standing up and popping his back.

Bobby gave Darien a harsh glare. "Don't. Ask."

Darien quickly began to reevaluate his strategy. Apparently, talking about Bobby's visit to the Keep was not a good idea. "Umm... I did some sniffing around, tried to figure out who Blaque might try to go after next."

"And?" Bobby cocked his head to the side in curiosity.

Darien sighed. "Nothing. That project's even more classified than you are."

"So the fat man wants us to catch this chick, but he won't give us the info to do it?" Bobby shook his head disgustedly.

Darien shrugged. "That's how it always is. They give you a fishing pole and a dinky little lure and then they expect you to use it to catch a whale."

"Yeah, well, I'm not gonna play by those rules. They want me to do this job, then they'd better not keep me in the dark," Bobby growled.

"Like they'd keep us anywhere else," Darien muttered under his breath. He wasn't being sarcastic, merely stating a fact; the Official was notorious for keeping his agents as unknowledgeable of what they were working on as possible.

Darien heard the office door swing open again and looked up just in time to see Sophie walk into the room, an ice cream cone in hand. His brow knitted in frustration and he ran a hand through his hair as he moaned, "What now?" He had had quite enough of Sophie for one day.

"Just came to see if you needed me for anything," Sophie mumbled through her ice cream.

"Nope, we're good," Darien said in a clipped tone.

Sophie stuck out her lower lip in a mock-pout and then ran her tongue up the waffle cone in a sultry manner to lick up a stray rivulet of melted ice cream. Darien just barely managed to resist the temptation to roll his eyes at Sophie's obvious, but admittedly effective, seduction tactics. The one thing Sophie was truly good at was using her body to her advantage. She knew exactly how to get a man's attention....

Darien sat up straighter, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Y'know," he said, eyeing Sophie in a manner that he knew from past experience made her distinctly uncomfortable, "there might be something you can do..."

**********

Bobby smirked as he followed Sophie down the Agency halls, comfortably sheathed in a coating of Quicksilver. Sophie, on the other hand, didn't look at all happy; the rigidity of her posture, the fists clenched at her sides, and the fact that she was muttering choice epithets under her breath all confirmed this. It was all Bobby could do to bite back his laughter.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Sophie groaned.

Bobby resisted the urge to reply; after all, Sophie had no knowledge of his talent at remaining unseen, and Bobby thought it in his best interests that he kept it that way. From what he had observed of Sophie so far, she was definitely not the best person to go to with a secret.

After a minute Sophie came to a halt in front of a nondescript door, no different from many of the others Bobby had seen in this rundown old building. She muttered one last curse under her breath and twisted the doorknob, swinging the door open. She walked into the room, which was littered with old, mismatched file cabinets. She placed her hands behind her and called in an inquisitive tone, "Hello?"

Eberts poked his head out from behind one of the file cabinets on the far end of the room. "Yes?" He looked slightly puzzled when he saw Sophie standing before him. "Oh, Miss MacCleary...." He absently straightened his tie before continuing, "how may I help you?"

"Well," Sophie said as she forced an attractive smile on her face and began to pace slowly toward Eberts in the manner of a cat stalking its prey, "you know that case Uncle Borden has me working on? I'm a little stuck on it, and I could use some help."

Eberts backed up a few steps, clearing his throat nervously. "Umm... what kind of help?"

Taking full advantage of Eberts' distraction, Bobby slipped into the room and began to read the labels on the file cabinets, searching for the one that held the files Darien had requested of him. They were in the archives somewhere, and Darien had recruited Sophie to distract Eberts while Bobby searched for them. Of course, Darien had told Sophie that she was the one who was supposed to be recovering the files, but after she left the room he had quickly informed Bobby of his true plan.

Sophie finished crossing the space between herself and Eberts and clasped her hands in front of her, her smile taking on a flirtatious quality. "Well, the information we've been given to work with so far is awfully vague, don't you think? I mean, how are we supposed to catch this murderer without any leads?" She leaned forward, giving Eberts an impressive view of her cleavage, and crooned, "The files for the C-8400 project would help."

Bobby knew they would help as well, but he was having a hard time keeping his eyes off of Sophie long enough to run a proper search for them. He wasn't attracted to Sophie in the way he seemed to be drawn to Claire, but the view he currently had of Sophie's rear certainly was impressive. He finally managed to draw his attention away from her backside and returned to his search, just barely managing to ignore Sophie's advances on Eberts, who was by now distinctly flustered.

Bobby eventually located the filing cabinet labeled 'C1-CE' and began to thumb through manila folders, his invisible fingers leaving trails of frost if they lingered on any one item for more than an instant. And there it was, nestled between two folders brimming with papers: C-8400. It was thin when compared to some of the other files located in the cabinet, but it was by no means tiny. Bobby hurriedly allowed the Quicksilver to flow over its surface and then slid the cabinet shut as quietly as possible.

Bobby's attention was abruptly drawn to Eberts as the man took a frantic step back, trying to keep a safe distance between himself and the leg Sophie had just brushed against his thigh. "Miss MacCleary, I don't think this is at all appropriate..." Bobby smirked. Maybe Eberts wasn't so bad after all. He would certainly make a good target for some of Bobby's more interesting practical jokes.

**********

"OK," Darien said, glancing over at Bobby, "let's go over the possibles."

Bobby sat down, picking up one of the personnel profiles scattered across the desk. "Harvey Trancen."

Darien shook his head. "Died of a heart attack six months ago."

"Michael Green."

"He moved on to another project, somewhere in New Mexico."

"Valerie Smithers."

"She was barely involved with the project, Alli wouldn't have much reason to go after her."

Bobby made a face. "Alli?"

"What?" Darien asked defensively. "Allianora's a mouthful."

Bobby pursed his lips in disapproval, but decided not to push the subject. "Rick Sampson."

"Retired. Had a pretty high profile on the project, definitely a possible," Darien said as he typed out notes on his computer.

"Jonathan Fulton."

"He's another one she might go for. The two of them had a lot of contact together, from what I can tell...." Darien held up one of the project files, which had been extensively blacked out but still revealed names and a few minor facts.

Bobby began to shift the profiles in front of him, searching for any names he might have missed. His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward, his jaw clenched. "Fawkes, you might wanna see this."

Darien leaned forward, puzzled. His face paled with shock as he saw the name and photograph Bobby was staring at. "Aw crap, that's...."

Bobby nodded grimly. "Arnaud."