***

The sound of humming wafting in through his open bedroom window was an astonishingly pleasant sound to wake up to. Aunt Celia must be out working in her garden again, taking advantage of another beautiful summer day. Stretching out his full length, his feet hanging off the end of the bed that he'd outgrown the year before, he tried to avoid waking up too much and, as he relaxed, curled up on his side, dragging one of the pillows over to bury his face in. He inhaled deeply, the subtle sent of 'Chele's shampoo still clinging to the cotton of the pillowcase from a couple days ago when they'd hung out playing cards and talking about nothing in particular for an evening.

The last few days had been interesting to say the least. He and 'Chele had been spending most of their time together, much like always, goofing off at the lake or hanging out in town with his friends, who had, for the most part, accepted her without reservation. Her unfailing gregariousness made it difficult for even the most jealous of the girls to feel threatened by her. Especially since, though she might join in with the playful flirting, she was most definitely interested in only one person and, much to Darien's astonishment, it continued to be himself.

Overall things really hadn't changed all that much between them, both of them had always been very tactile with their relationship, though it had been mainly reserved for quiet moments alone, whereas now they were a bit more open about it, at least when Peter and Celia weren't about. Darien had this vague concern that his aunt and uncle would do their best to discourage a romantic relationship between himself and 'Chele. He'd run through all the potential arguments and reasons, from her being three years older than him, the fact that he'd just turned 17, that they would be going their separate ways in a few weeks, and discovered he didn't care. He'd much rather have this time with her than let it pass by. Kissing her had become his favorite pastime, much to the annoyance of his friends, but since most of them were paired off as well, they couldn't complain too much.

Then there was yesterday when he'd finally screwed up his courage and been bold enough to move beyond just kissing her, which ultimately made for a very restless night's sleep until he'd finally given up about 3 AM and taken the matter in hand... so to speak. It being summer and all, provided he completed his chores, he didn't have any worries about having to get up early, unless he chose to. And most mornings he chose to sleep in, the cool evening breezes being far more conducive to getting in a little quality necking time that the bright daylight hours were.

He was actually surprised at how... talented she was. She'd never mentioned any boyfriends at college, which he had found a bit odd, as he'd been quite open about his relationships, often consulting her when he found himself completely at a loss to understand the female of the species. He'd been detailing to her, if in somewhat vague terms, exactly how far several of his relationships had gone over the last year. Hell, she'd even met Samantha over Christmas break and accepted her with the same laid back take it at face value attitude she used to deal with life in general. It had been Darien who'd been having licentious thoughts about his best friend back then, even as he asked 'Chele for help picking out a Christmas gift for Samantha.

Darien figured 'Chele was like Kevin when at school, focused solely on the work and eschewing anything even vaguely resembling the non-academic, meaning she chose not to get involved with anyone. Darien chuckled softly; very glad he had been wrong on that count. 'Chele had this trick she could do with her tongue that could keep him distracted for long minutes and usually begging for more, much to her amusement and there was no way in hell she had learned that in some dusty book or in the depths of some poorly-lit lab.

He suddenly found himself feeling far more awake than he really wanted to be and in need of a shower, a cold one by preference, his body was reacting to thoughts of 'Chele as it always seemed to lately. Throwing off the covers with a muttered curse he grabbed clean clothes from his bureau and headed to the bathroom to get himself fit for facing the rest of the world, or at least his small corner of it.

A good 30 minutes later he tripped lightly down the stairs, humming the very tune he'd heard earlier and debating where to drag 'Chele off to today -- after breakfast, of course, as his stomach reminded him that food would be a necessity prior to any sort of fun happening. He stopped short of the bottom when he heard voices, Michele's and Uncle Pete's, and caught sight of them walking up the hallway next to the staircase and towards the office.

"Pete, I have no one else to turn to at this point. Bad enough the funky test results mangled two projects and raised a few eyebrows, but the more recent ones..." Darien could hear the frustration in her voice, even as he silently backed up a few steps to remain unseen by them. "What the hell is wrong with me?"

Darien ducked down low, watching them carefully through the spindles of the banister. Pete set a hand on her shoulder. "Nothing, Michele, I swear there is nothing wrong with you."

"So you do know something." 'Chele sounded far more relieved than angry.

"Know? Not really, but I've pieced together a few things, as I am quite sure you have." Peter waved her into the office and swung the door to shut it, but not quite hard enough, leaving standing open a couple of inches.

Moving as stealthily as he could on his bare feet Darien tip-toed down the remaining steps, making sure to avoid the one that always creaked, and over to the doorway. Parking himself on the open side he did his best to block out the ambient noise and focus on the voices within.

"...something to do with my parents' theories, I know that much. The rat testing was very successful and we were ready to try the Phase II drug when Killegan went all klutzy again and nailed me with it." From the sound of it 'Chele was pacing the breadth of the room, her feet making no more than a whisper of noise on the hard wood floor. "We designed it specifically for the rats, DNA serotype matched and everything just in case something like this happened. And yet, I reacted to it. Hell, I did more than react. I responded as if I'd gone through Phase I just like the rats had."

"Which effect were you seeking in the rats?" Peter asked, his tone a combination of curiosity and serious.

"Intelligence. Most of which is effected by the Phase I drug, however the data suggested that the Phase II drug, administered at the equivalent of puberty would dramatically increase the potential." 'Chele's restless motions ceased for the moment. "It worked. We've bred two generations since, paired two Phase II, one Phase II and a control... you know the routine. The intelligence gets passed on with little or no dilution provided at least one parent receives the Phase I treatment. Not the Phase II, the Phase I."

"Damn," Peter muttered so softly that Darien just barely heard it. "How intelligent?"

Chele gave off a harsh bark of laughter. "Very. They teach each other. They have no language we can interpret; yet they teach each other."

"Secondary effects. ESP," Peter stated with a touch of awe in his voice. "They, your parents, said it was possible. No one really wanted to believe..." There was a pause and the atmosphere seemed to grow heavier and somehow Darien knew that this conversation was something he shouldn't be hearing, but he could not seem to tear himself away. "'Chele..."

"Yeah," she agreed, though to what Darien had no idea. "Everything is pointing that way for the rats. We'll probably have to destroy them soon. You'd not believe the cage we had to build for them. They're that smart."

"Understandable. If they were to get out into the population at large..." Peter let the sentence hang, and even Darien, who did not quite fully comprehend the discussion, had gotten enough to discern the hazard of intelligent rats out in the real world and breeding. It'd be the movie Ben, only for real this time.

"So where does that leave me, Pete? If the lab rats are that big a danger, what about me?" Darien heard the sound of papers being rifled through before she continued. "I can't even figure out what the hell this is or what it's doing to me, but I do know there's nearly twice as much in my bloodstream since I got stuck with the Phase II serum." Darien heard her sigh heavily, almost with what sounded like a sob escaping at the end. "I'm scared, Pete."

"Michele," The sound of his uncle's heavier footsteps drew nearer and Darien flattened himself against the wall, knowing he'd be in for it if caught eavesdropping, more so for this confusing and somehow frightening conversation, "I'll tell you what I know." There was click as the door shut, Peter having finally realized it was still open. They continued speaking, but the words were now too muffled for him to hear and Darien sagged against the wall, worry twisting his guts and removing any trace of the hunger that had been there mere moments before.

Pushing away, he headed towards the kitchen anyway; at the very least he could sit at the table and mull what he'd overheard, perhaps make some sense out of it. Something beyond that 'Chele was sick. Thinking about it, he had to wonder if those headaches of hers were some symptom of a more serious illness that she hadn't told him about. "Crap." he mumbled as he entered the kitchen to see his Aunt Celia placing some fresh cut flowers in a vase.

"Darien, good morning. You're up early." She gave him a cheery smile that did little to brighten the dark clouds that currently swirled through his mind.

Not wanting to worry her, he sidled over and dropped a kiss on her cheek. "The lovely music coming from the backyard woke me," he told her.

"Oh you," she scoffed. "Care to give an old lady some help?"

Needing something to distract him from what would be sure to become dank and depressing thoughts Darien nodded. "Sure. Whatcha need?"

Celia set the vase on the kitchen table, made a few minute adjustments to some of the blooms and looked over her shoulder at Darien. "Are you feeling well, dear?"

"Yep, just thought it'd be nice to spend some time with you before the summer was over and I'm gone," Darien said off the top of his head and was surprised to find the statement true enough.

"Good. I'll put those muscles of yours to good use, young man." Celia reached over and pinched Darien's biceps to emphasize her words and making him blush in reaction.

"Celia..."

She laughed lightly and led the way out the back door and into the yard.

***

The late afternoon breeze was heavy with moisture, the heat and humidity skyrocketing as the hours dragged on. The subtle sound of an ice cube popping in the glass sitting on the dark green grass was audible over the buzzing drone of insects going about their daily routine, the sound almost sleepy in the oppressive heat. The trees in the heavily shaded corner of the yard keeping the oversized hammock and its occupant relatively cool even as it swayed slightly with every small movement he made.

Turning the page Darien continued his absorbed reading of the beat up copy of the Great Dialogues of Plato he had gotten from the library earlier in the day, after seeing the note from Uncle Pete that he and Michele were heading to the hospital to see Dr. Anthony. Darien had even forgone getting into some pre-Fourth of July mischief with Pizza simply because he wasn't in the mood. His worry about 'Chele had cranked up another notch when he found out she was off visiting the man who was one of Uncle Peter's best friends.

Pizza had accused Darien of spending his time with 'Chele and ignoring all his friends to play footsie with some girl just cause he was getting laid regular-like, which wasn't true. Pizza had been forced to swallow those words when he ran into Darien on his way home from the library quite noticeably without Michele. One advantage of a small town was that pretty much everything was in walking distance. The walk had also offered Darien some minor distraction from his concerns, but not quite enough. Even Celia had realized he was brooding over something beyond the usual teenaged angst and traumas and, after Darien politely refused her offer to talk it over, had left him pretty much to himself.

One hand absently swiped at the trickle of sweat that ran down across his temple to tickle his cheek before he turned the page. He'd already made it through Ion and Meno, and was currently trying to absorb Symposium when a soft voice intruded.

"Feel up for some company?"

Darien glanced up from the page to see 'Chele leaning against the tree near his feet. Looking her over he could see she was tired and unhappy, small bandages over cotton balls lay in the crooks of both elbows and attested to the fact that Dr. Anthony had done more than just talk to her. He suddenly felt angry at her for not at least letting him know that she'd planned on spending the day with his uncle, that she was possibly suffering from some mysterious illness, or even worse from cancer or something and might not have much time left. His jaw clenching he forced his eyes back to the page and gave every appearance of not giving a damn what she did.

Almost as if she could read his mind 'Chele said, "Sorry about bailing on you, but once we started talking things just snowballed. I certainly hadn't planned spending an hour in an MRI machine."

Darien's anger cracked, but he still stared at the book, though he was unable to focus his eyes and the words remained unread. "'Chele, how... how sick are you?"

She sighed heavily and turned, her back now against the rough bark of the tree, her head tipped up to stare at the canopy of leaves above her. "I'm not. Not like how you're thinking anyway. Which is why I wanted to talk to Pete about it."

Giving up his attempt at disinterest, he let the book flop onto his chest and ran a hand through his hair. "Does this have anything to do with those migraines you've been getting?" Though she failed to meet his eyes she did nod. Something clicked then, a connection he should have made before. "Like when you were 13, those migraines?" He hadn't noticed her getting severely bloodshot eyes like back then, but then again, he wasn't around her 24/7, or she could have been on medication to keep it under control.

She snorted softly. "See, you are smart, but no. Or rather, not exactly."

Shifting to the far side of the hammock he patted the space he'd made. "Come on." With a small nod she pushed away from the tree and joined him, though not lying beside him. Instead, she settled crosswise, her legs dangling off the edge and her head resting on his stomach. Moving her legs back and forth, she started the hammock swinging gently. "Talk to me, 'Chele."

"Nothin' to talk about really. I am in no way gonna do something like drop dead on you. Far as we can tell I'm perfectly healthy, just... weird. The tests were more as a second opinion than anything else."

"Don't mean I ain't gonna worry," Darien grumbled softly, his right hand snaking down to rest on her stomach where her halter-top had ridden up so that it lay on bare, surprisingly cool, flesh.

"I know, but try not to worry too much. I promise I'd tell you if it were anything serious." 'Chele tipped her head to the side to meet his eyes and he was shocked at how tired they looked.

"I'm gonna hold you to that." He allowed his fingers to wander randomly across her stomach, not quite light enough to tickle; somehow he knew she was not in the mood for play. "Tired?"

"Unbelievably," she responded, the syllables conveying exactly how tired she was. "We have plans this evening, right? Someone you wanted me to meet?"

Darien wasn't sure why he was surprised she hadn't forgotten his tentatively made plans of the day before and instantly decided that tonight was not the right time to introduce 'Chele to Liz. There might never be a good time for that and, while part of him wanted very much for 'Chele to approve of Liz and vice versa, he was beginning to realize it wouldn't happen. Oh, 'Chele wouldn't say one thing against Liz, not directly, but Liz... Liz would have definite issues with sweet and innocent-seeming 'Chele and there would be little chance of him mediating a middle ground between them. It was simpler to forget the entire idea. "Yeah, but it's not important."

"You sure?" she asked, her hand finding his and resting lightly atop it.

"Quite sure. We'll just hang out here this evening. I figure we'll find something to do." He placed just the right amount of emphasis on the latter words so that she would understand his meaning and she chuckled softly, making his entire body vibrate with it. "Unless you're not interested, of course."

Rolling over she slithered up, shoving the book aside, until her chin was resting on his sternum. "Very interested, smartass."

He curled his arms about her, sliding them under her shirt; almost able to count her prominent ribs with his fingers she because was so damn skinny. "Ah, you like me this way, remember?"

"Always." She laid her head down and sighed softly. "I want to thank you, Dare."

"Thank me? For what?" His fingers continued their wanderings, tracing the outline of her spine vertebra by vertebra.

"For convincing me to not switch schools and sticking with my major," she explained, her voice growing soft as her body relaxed under his gentle ministrations. "You were right. It's what I love and I shouldn't let anything keep me from it."

Darien didn't feel it was something he deserved thanks for; he'd done nothing more than repeat words she'd told him time and time again back at her. "Wow, I was right about something. Can I get that on tape as evidence?"

"Sure. Anytime," she mumbled, the day's events plainly having tired her out more than even she had realized.

Darien smiled at her, an odd thrill rushing through him, as exactly how much she trusted him sank in. Moving one hand slowly he picked up the book and returned to his reading of Plato.