A/N: This takes place between the VS episodes Adam in Wonderland and Mirror, Mirror. There is a roughly six-week separation between the two with the events of this story taking place two weeks prior to Mirror, Mirror.

* * *

February 2003

Music: Your Mistake by Sister Hazel & In This Life by Chantal Kreviazuk

"Our destiny exercises its influence over us even when, as yet, we have not learned its nature: it is our future that lays down the law of our today."

I wouldn't have bought this line, written by Nietzsche or not, except for the fact that I had my palm read a few years back ... and damn it if the prediction didn't come true. Strange thing is, the gypsy who told my fortune doesn't believe in fate, least not one helped by outside forces. We make our own fate.

Destiny, however... After everything I'd been through, I was beginning to wonder.

"So the kid's settling in okay?"

Darien mentally shook his head. Hobbes could just be so obtuse at times. "You stood there and read the e-mail the same time I did. What, you think there was some secret message that I need my super-spy decoder ring for?"

"Nah, I just wanted to make sure you thought he was doing all right." Hobbes explained as they continued their slow stroll to the Official's office for today's surprise meeting that they'd been informed of while reading the first, of hopefully, many secure e-mails from Adam... Alex. A reply would have to wait until after they found out what the 'Fish wanted them to risk life and limb on this time.

For a change Darien was in a good mood; Adam's.... Alex's -- damn it -- letter was the capper after a night of successful work. He might be going short of sleep these days, but, so far, it was worth it. He'd successfully gotten in and stolen all the files needed to get one nasty piece of work named Richard Sanchez put behind bars for the rest of his natural life. Darien had the papers, along with those from two other bastards safely stored away until he was certain the coast was clear. Besides, he had already begun work on his next one and wanted to complete it before passing on the information to someone who could make very good use of it... all anonymously, of course. As far as he was concerned the day couldn't get much better. Which, after the last few months, was much needed. Things were finally starting get back to normal... well as normal as they ever really were around here these days.

Darien shrugged. "Can't really tell from words on a computer screen, now can I? Here's hoping Eberts can rig that video system so me and ... him can talk face to face." He stopped outside the door to the office and turned to his partner. "I need to know A... he's happy, ya know?"

"Fawkes, and you can trust that Charlie and Deb will take good care of him," Hobbes assured Darien.

Darien turned the knob, swung the door open and entered the office while still focused on Bobby. "I know, it ain't about that, its..." Darien lifted his head to see someone sitting in the chair before the Official's desk, someone with vibrant red hair. Very familiar looking red hair. He stopped dead, blocking the doorway and caused Hobbes to walk into Darien's back, whatever he had been planning to say had been completely wiped from his mind by the sight before him.

"Fawkes," Hobbes groused, "Cut the doorstop imitation would ya?" Then he forced his way past the unmoving Darien.

Darien barely even noticed since the person had turned about and revealed a sight he'd never expected to see here in this office. He took a moment to close his eyes, convinced he had to be seeing things, but when he opened them the sight remained the same.

Hobbes, ever one known for his observational skills, suddenly asked, "You got a problem, Fawkes? 'Cause you look like you just saw a ghost or something."

Darien forced himself to speak past the stunned feeling that had left him momentarily immobile and speechless. "Truth?"

"Hey, Dare," 'Chele said as she got to her feet and walked over to him. She set a hand on his forearm as if to assure him she was indeed real and not some strange figment of his imagination. He almost wished she hadn't, as it triggered the memory of a very disturbing dream he'd been having on and off for the past week.

He was back at the lake, that first summer he and 'Chele had become more than friends, and reliving that first kiss they'd shared, the one where'd they'd sunk beneath the water until the need for air had forced them to break apart and surface. Back then 'Chele had come up behind him and swum closer, but in the dream she hadn't and his teenaged body suddenly became that of his adult self. An adult who became increasingly desperate to find Michele, calling her name out to echo back at him off the cold stone walls of the lake. After diving under several times to search for her in the depths of the dark water, he noticed an odd stain spreading across the surface, when it reached him he realized it was blood. That was always when he woke up gasping for air and a terrible fear lying heavy upon his heart.

A shiver ran through him even as he raised a hand to set against her cheek. "'Chele? What on earth are you doing here?" He knew the astonishment he was feeling could be heard in his voice, and the sharp look Hobbes shot him didn't help matters any. Darien knew that look, but he didn't want to deal with it right now.

"'Fraid I'm in some trouble, D," 'Chele explained, watching him carefully.

Darien met her eyes, noting that not only was she completely exhausted, but that they had changed color yet again, the gray now having been bleached out to a brilliant silver color. At least he assumed they'd be brilliant; currently they were dulled with pain. "'Chele..." He wished he could manage to say more than her name, but he seemed to be unable to get beyond the shock of her being here.

The Official cleared his throat and the attention of all three turned to focus on him. "If you would take a seat, we can get moving on this."

Hobbes looked from Darien to Michele a blank gaze that boded ill upon his features before turning away. "What's up, Chief?"

Darien gave 'Chele a half-hearted smile and then urged her back towards the desk. Once she had settled into what was typically his spot, he grabbed a chair from the conference table and set it between her and Hobbes. "Shoot," he said as soon as he was seated.

"Dr. MacTierney, is there anything I can get for you?" Eberts spoke softly, as if aware her hearing could become overly sensitive when she was tired or in pain.

"Later, Eberts," the Official stated. "We need to get moving on this, now."

"On what?" Darien asked, unable to not notice the pile of disks and files sitting on his boss' desktop. "What does 'Chele have to do with all of this?" The undertone of anger was plain to anyone who knew him well, and there were at least two people in the room who knew him very well indeed.

Michele reached out and set a hand on his arm. "I came to Charlie for help, Darien." When he turned to look at her in disbelief, after all he'd told her, warned her about the Official over and over again, she said the one thing that would make him believe. "Jess is back and this time he did show up with a gang of thugs to drag me away."

"Shit," Darien cursed softly. "You all right?"

"Jess? Wassa Jess?" Hobbes asked. "And why's he after the kid here?"

'Chele chuckled softly, plainly amused at being referred to as 'kid.'

"Jess, is a nasty piece a'work that has been bird-dogging 'Chele here for over 10 years," Darien snarled. "The son of a bitch."

Eberts flipped open a file and began to read. "Jessup Stevens, an alias, his real name remains stubbornly hidden. Wanted on several counts of criminal trespass and violation of a restraining order. As well as one count of rape."

That got Hobbes attention as it was obvious who the victim had to be; but neither Darien nor Michele even flinched, this was old, old news to them. "What has this got to do with us? The Agency? Her ex comes back and she runs to you," He waved at the Official. "for help? Don't make much sense to me."

"Hobbes, you have no idea..." Darien began, not quite sure how explain the complicated situation that was Jess to his currently ruffle-feathered partner.

'Chele leaned forward to look around Darien and face Hobbes directly. "Jess is more than just my 'ex' -- using that term very loosely. I have reason to believe he killed my parents and did so on the orders of his employers."

That information was news to Darien, but, in truth, he wasn't all that surprised to learn it was a possibility. As far as he was concerned there was nothing Jess wasn't capable of.

Hobbes failed to keep the sneer off his face or out of his voice, "Right, conspiracies surrounding a chiquita like you. So who do you think he works for, some black ops government agency?"

Hobbes might have been in full sarcastic mode, but Darien caught the look of consternation on the Official's face, which looked amazingly odd next to the way Eberts' eyes were trying to bug out. "Damn, Hobbes, what bug crawled up your ass today?"

"What?" Hobbes asked in perfect innocence.

"Agent Hobbes, near as I have been able to discover, Jess works for a group that at one time was known as Mirage, beyond that... Much like their namesake, they've been very difficult to track down." 'Chele stood up, one hand lifting to rub her forehead as she began to slowly pace in front of the Official's desk. "One thing I do know, is the dozen men -- all in black suits and dark glasses, mind you, with Jess apparently in charge -- did not show up at my office to introduce themselves and ask me out on a date. They came with the sole purpose of getting me when they discovered all the data they wanted had been wiped." She made her way over to the window with the unexciting view and stared out it for a long tense moment. "I did the only thing I could, I va... hid and got the hell out of Dodge."

Darien was sorely tempted to go to her, but something in her stance made him stay in place. "Why, 'Chele?"

"That's need to know," the Official interjected. "Suffice it to say, her reasons were more than enough for me to agree to intercede until she can be moved to safety." He glanced over at Michele who had turned about as he spoke. "The initial calls have been made and transport will be arranged as swiftly as possible." His tone softened a bit. "It may take a day or two, I'm afraid."

Darien looked over at Hobbes, who with eerie timing had turned as well. There was definitely something else going on here that neither of them understood. "We're gonna protect her." It was a statement of the obvious, but still needed to be said.

"Yes, Robert," Eberts answered. "We should have a secure location within a few hours. You and a team of agents will have guard detail. Only the two of you will be with Dr. MacTierney 24/7, the rest with maintain the usual eight hour shifts with a minimum of six agents nearby at all times."

Darien goggled, wondering what was so vital, so important about Michele that she justified what must be an enormous expense for the Agency's perennially strained budget. He knew 'Chele was special beyond just being genius, but he was damn sure he was one of only a few, including her brothers, who knew exactly how special. He certainly could not conceive of her telling the 'Fish as it would do the one thing she was terrified of, would put her at risk of becoming a pawn of the government, much as he still was.

Hobbes stood up, "So what now? We sit around here playing baby-sitter?"

"Now, you escort her to the Keeper, who has already been informed of the need for her assistance with a small matter," Eberts stated.

"For? The Keep is well.... The Keep." Hobbes made this weird head motion and Darien got that he was trying to be subtle about the importance of Lab 101 and the whole Quicksilver thing.

It was 'Chele who answered. "I haven't had access to my lab for... a while and I need medication." She must have caught something in Bobby's stance since she quickly added, "And, no, this is not something I can pick up at the corner pharmacy." She moved to the desk and sorted through the disks there until she found the one she wanted.

"We'll be sending a team to your house in Escondido to salvage what we can," Eberts informed her.

'Chele snorted. "Good luck. I doubt they left much behind." She sucked a breath in between clenched teeth, one hand going to her forehead.

Darien quickly stood and went to her, but she shifted away before he could set his hands on her shoulders and steady her. Her wincing glance in his direction told him it wasn't done to hurt him, but that she'd suddenly become overtly sensitive, something she'd warned him about in their various communications in the last six months or so. "Easy, 'Chele, it'll pass in a few."

She nodded and focused back on the Official. "I wiped my home system and trust me when I say they won't be able to recover anything of value."

The Official startled Darien by actually chuckling. "That I believe."

"Chief, I still don't get why we're doing this." Hobbes was being like a dog with a bone, gnawing on it and growling any time someone came near. Usually he just went with the flow and dealt with the old need to know routine.

"I'll tell you what I can," 'Chele said as she half-turned to face Hobbes. "That is, if Charlie says it's all right..."

Her deference to the Official was just the right touch and Darien knew she knew it. He'd taught her well over the years and she could run a con with the best of them, but typically used those skills to persuade investors into more funding for Hollow Brook and not trying to get wealthy marks to part with their valuables. Her next words, however, completely blew him away.

"Charlie, I want to thank you."

The Official shook his head, not even a hint of that supercilious smile that often graced his features in evidence. "Don't. We haven't succeeded yet."

"Not about this," 'Chele stated, and Darien was surprised to see a momentary look of confusion cross the Official's features. "I know about what you've done for me over the years and why. For that I thank you."

In a tone that could be nothing other than never-before-heard sincerity the Official replied, "You're welcome. Now, I suggest to make your way downstairs. Fill them in as you see fit, but..."

"Understood. I am fully aware, which secrets to keep... for now." 'Chele hedged her bets, just like she should when dealing with the 'Fish.

"Hobbes,"

"Yeah, to the Keep. Come on, Miss...."

"You can call me Mac, if you like," 'Chele offered as she fell into step with Bobby.

Darien could tell Hobbes was pissed about something, but he still put his job first and right now his job was Michele. Darien, on the other hand, was still trying to deal with everything that had been revealed in the last 15 minutes. "'Chele, I've told you about him," he hissed as soon as they were down the hall and out of earshot of the office. "Are you nuts to show up here?"

"Maybe," 'Chele agreed as she walked through the doorway at the end of the hall and stopped on the landing. "Darien, you remember I told you Pete trusted two people with ... with my private research?"

"Yeah, Doc Anthony and..." It didn't even take a second for Darien to figure it out. "Oh crap. The 'Fish knows about you?" This wasn't crap, this was so far beyond crap that becoming immune to the counteragent paled in comparison.

"Yes, Darien, he knows. He's protected me over the years, believe it or not, and all at Peter's request. I didn't make the connection until today, as I had never met Charlie. When I needed to contact him I used secure drops and the like. I only had his name and had no idea he was your 'Official.' Pete set it all up before he died. " 'Chele gave him this ghost of a grin and shook her head. "I'm surprised you didn't recognize him."

"Huh?" both Darien and Bobby said at the same time, which amused Darien to no end and caused 'Chele to hastily stifle a giggle. "Speak, Truth," Darien mock ordered.

She clicked her heels together and snapped off an overdone salute, "Sir, yes, sir. D, he was the," She paused, tipping her head, obviously digging for the exact quote in her mind. "'rather large gentleman in the dark suit and glasses' talking to Kev and Doc Anthony at Peter's funeral."

Darien felt a shock go through him and for a second thought that perhaps yet another minor quake had hit, but the look on Hobbes' face told him otherwise.

"Fawkes, you look like you just got hit upside the head with a brick." The concern in Hobbes' voice was palpable.

"That's 'cause he was, in a sense anyway. Dare, you knew they were involved years ago. You said you found that picture of them at the house, remember?" 'Chele's voice was calm, but it was a fair bet that she had a damn good idea what was going through his mind.

"Yeah, you're right, but..." Darien shook his head deciding now was not the time to deal with this. "I just never made the connection," Darien admitted ruefully.

"Shall we?" Hobbes waved to the staircase and led the way downstairs to the subbasement the Keep was located on. "I gotta ask, what's with the nicknames?" Hobbes was trying to sound completely disinterested, but failed miserably to Darien's eyes. After all this time he could read Hobbes like a book, a long complicated book admittedly, but those were always the best kind.

"The Truth and Dare thing?" Darien asked and Hobbes nodded. "It goes back to the first time we met as kids, we played Truth or Dare in the hospital, her always picking truth and...."

"You dare. I got it." Hobbes stopped a few feet from the lab door and turned to face Darien with a slight frown on his features. "What I wanna know is why I've never even heard about her," He thrust a hand at Michele. "before today."

Darien answered straight faced, "Need to know, my friend." Then he set a hand on 'Chele's shoulder to escort her into the Keep.

He swiped the mag card through the lock even as Hobbes grumbled, "Need to know, my ass."

Darien glanced about not seeing Claire immediately, and motioned 'Chele towards the other half of the lab. "Keep, Eberts said you were expecting us."

"Yes, Darien, " Claire responded from her position crouched before one of the coolers near the floor. "Just put the disk by the computer and I'll get to it in a second."

"Not without the password you won't," 'Chele stated. "My encryption program hasn't been broken yet."

Claire stood and spun about in obvious irritation to freeze in place at the sight of the three people in her lab. Darien was about to introduce his Keeper to 'Chele when she beat him to the punch.

"Claire? Wow, long time no see," 'Chele stepped forward to give Claire a quick hug while the often stoic Keeper looked stunned.

Claire hugged back in a vague manner before she obviously made the connection from her past to the present and the woman standing in her lab. "Michele? Michele MacTierney?" 'Chele nodded. "Bloody hell, it's been forever."

Darien's mind finally caught up with what he was seeing. "Wait, you two know each other?"

"Sure," 'Chele responded. "Claire dated Kevin our final year at Cal-Tech. She'd transferred in from MIT after a quick stint at Oxford."

Darien felt the twisting of that particular knife in his back at those words, the original wound still raw and bleeding. This revelation simply caused the flow to double. "Shit, did everyone know but me?"

'Chele stepped away from Claire and was at his side in an instant. "D, I'm certain I told you about her even if Kevin never did." Her eyes slipped shut for a few seconds. "Hmm, odd, I don't think I ever mentioned her by name. Just 'the blonde Brit who can't hold her liquor'." Her eyes snapped open. "Oh, so that's what all the Kevin stuff was about a few months back." She shook her head gently. "I didn't realize..."

"No way you could have, kitten." He met her eyes, which were suddenly filled with concern behind the pain and exhaustion. "The Keep is good at keeping secrets, it's part of her job after all."

Claire pursed her lips and glared at him coolly, not tempted to rise to the bait today. Just as well since they had far more important things to deal with.

"I'm thinking the Keep ain't the only one who has been keeping secrets," Hobbes grumbled from where he stood by the tank of piranha.

Darien felt a sudden guilt wash over him, but he quickly shook it off. As far as he was concerned, protecting 'Chele had been worth the deception. "Hobbes..."

"Agent Hobbes, I realize this must be a bit disconcerting for you, but Darien felt it was necessary and at the time I agreed with him." 'Chele moved over towards the exam chair and leaned back against it. She looked extremely tired, like she hadn't slept in days and Darien wanted to tell her to sit and relax for a while, that he and Hobbes wouldn't let anything happen to her. Then he turned to look at Hobbes who was glowering at Michele and knew that 'rest' was not something she was going to get in the near future. He wasn't even certain Hobbes would work too hard at keeping her safe right now.

"I still feel more than a little responsible for Darien having come to the Agency at all. All his plans..." 'Chele shook her head as if not sure what to say.

"'Chele, it wasn't your fault. You... you did what you could to get me out that mess, I'm sure. It was Kevin who took advantage of the situation," Darien tried to reassure her. They had never really discussed her failure to keep her promise of getting him out of prison. He was out, and though the price had been very, very high, it was, overall, better than what would have happened to him inside Bakersfield.

Michele looked at Darien in confusion. "Didn't Kevin tell you?"

Darien blinked. "Tell me what? He showed up just before I was gonna be transferred upstate with.... his offer." He hadn't told her much about what had happened, couldn't tell her without risking her freedom. Being top-secret sucked most of the time.

"Damn him," 'Chele growled.

"Fawkes, what are the two of you talking about?" Hobbes asked, apparently not liking the half-a-conversation he was hearing between Michele and Darien.

'Chele seemed to ignore Hobbes' question. "What did Kevin tell you?"

Darien scratched the back of his head while he thought how to tell her what had gone on without telling her what had gone on. "Said he heard about my conviction on AOL and that he greased some wheels to get me out in exchange for helping him with his project."

'Chele closed her eyes for a second, hands coming up to rub her face, before meeting Darien's eyes. "I told him about your problem. He went to my website to look over the proof I'd found. Shit, I made him copies of the info so he could prove to his boss you were innocent and get help reversing the conviction." She slumped as if out of energy.

"Wait, you're saying you have proof Fawkes here didn't do ... what they said he did and you didn't take it to his lawyer?" Hobbes sounded confused and Claire moved to his side, her head swinging from Bobby to Darien, wanting to understand this new information as badly as Hobbes did.

"Of course I took it to Harry, however, because of the way I retrieved some of the information it was useless to him," 'Chele snapped, her temper making its presence known for the first time.

"And you thought Fawkes' geeky bro could do... what? Look at it under a microscope?" Hobbes snarked, clearly not liking this turn of events. Darien could see it written in every line of Hobbes' body that he was unhappy that everything he'd thought he'd known about Darien was suddenly being turned upside down and inside out.

"Hobbes..." Darien tried, but Michele ran over the top of him.

"No. I thought he could use those government contacts of his and get the data legitimized. In fact that's what I thought he did... at first." 'Chele looked over at Darien, not a trace of a smile on her face. "Harry had no idea how you'd gotten out; Kevin never contacted him. When I finally heard from Kev, he simply said you were free and that I should wait for you to get in touch with me." A look of sadness crossed her features. "Then I found out Kev was dead."

"What did you think Fawkes was doing?" Hobbes asked sharply, not a trace of sympathy anywhere in his tone.

'Chele shrugged. "I figured Kev got D some pasty position on his project to keep him out of trouble and out of sight 'til things cooled down. Maybe as a lab tech, or security."

"Security?" Claire asked softly in an apparent attempt to distract Hobbes, but Darien could see it wasn't going to work.

"Sure, why not? Who better than a thief to design security to keep out other thieves? I figured Darien stayed on at the Agency either 'cause it was part of the deal to keep him out of prison or because Kev asked him to." Michele managed a half-hearted smile for Darien. "He's never told me."

Claire seemed to sense the impending eruption that Darien could see on his partner's features and chose to intervene. "Michele, if you'll show me what it is you need, I'll get started on it."

'Chele nodded and followed Claire over to the workstation.

"Fawkes," Hobbes hissed. "If you've compromised this... project the Fat Man will have your ass in a sling."

"He hasn't, Agent Hobbes," 'Chele responded as she waited for the disk to load up, her back to him. "His comments about his job here have always been vague and non-specific. I didn't even know the location of this building until yesterday. I was simply someone outside of the situation for him to talk to. And, damn, did he need that."

Hobbes groaned. "Fawkes, you've been in contact with her all along?"

"Yeah, Hobbes, I have," Darien answered defensively. "What? All of a sudden I'm not allowed anything for myself? You have your secrets, the 'Fish his, the Keeper hers. I don't get to have any?"

"What secrets could you possibly have?" Hobbes snapped. "You were heading to prison on a third strike, a two-bit thief with nowhere to go but up..."

"You are wrong," 'Chele stated in a calm voice, turning about to face Hobbes. "Darien was not up on a third strike no matter what his record seems to say. That was part of the plan to get the death penalty off the table."

Darien shook his head and chuckled softly. "I'd been wondering about that, but I figured the Fat Man had done it."

The corners of 'Chele's lips twitched upwards for a second. "Darien, you have no idea what I did to get you out of that mess. Good thing you'd taught me as well as you did: I needed to crack two safes to get the proof. And it still wasn't enough."

That threw Hobbes completely. "Wait... You're trying to tell me he..." He hooked a thumb in Darien's direction. "Taught you to crack safes?"

'Chele nodded. "Among other things. He's very talented."

"Right. Until he came here, Fawkes had no direction, no goals. He's cleaned up pretty good, but still has a long way to go." Hobbes told her in a dark voice, plainly daring her to try and challenge that statement.

Darien sucked in a breath, shocked at Hobbes' words. Was this what his partner, his friend really thought of him? Could Hobbes really think that Darien was little more than the petty thief he'd appeared to be when he had first arrived here? Had Hobbes truly learned nothing over the last two and a half years? Darien looked over at 'Chele to find her frowning slightly, confusion buried in the depths of her eyes.

"Agent Hobbes, it is you who are mistaken. Until he was framed for that murder he'd been a teacher. He has a Master's Degree in Literature with a minor in Philosophy. He used to be paid very well to tutor the children of the wealthy in this town." Her voice was cool, as if trying not to antagonize the man. "Yes, he was also a thief, but two-bit he never was." She narrowed her eyes. "Its amazing how much you sound like Kevin..." She trailed off, her head snapping around to focus on Darien. "So that advice was useful after all."

Darien nodded. "Yeah, it was." The hurt in his voice must have been obvious as even Claire's brows drew together in concern.

"Fawkes? You said you dropped outta college. 'Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven,' you said," Hobbes quoted, accurately for a change. "You been lying to me all along? Why?" Hobbes, surprisingly, didn't sound angry, just... lost.

"Would you have believed the truth?" Darien asked, knowing that the preconceptions about who he was still lingered even to this day. Hobbes' statements had proved that without a doubt. "Would you have believed for even one second that I was anything other than the 'two-bit' thief you obviously still think of me as?"

Hobbes muttered under his breath for a few minutes, quite obviously pissed off. "Maybe... maybe not at first, but now... hell, a year ago, yeah I woulda believed." He shook his head, obviously upset at the seeming distrust Darien held for his partner. "Thought you trusted me, Fawkes."

It was 'Chele who answered, "He does, more than you could ever realize. However, he has this bad habit of keeping up with the con long after it's needed. Easier to go with the flow than force the river to change its banks." The admonishment was gentle, but Darien knew it was also all too true.

Hobbes blinked. "Okay, that there proves you've known him for a while. Getting all philosophic at me. Like getting it from him ain't bad enough." His stance relaxed slightly, the angry tension partially draining away. The look Hobbes leveled at Darien told him this wasn't over by a long shot, but that Hobbes was willing to set it aside for now. The needs of the moment taking precedence over their personal problems, and for Hobbes these lies of Darien's were very personal.

Claire, sensing it was safe for the nonce, cleared her throat softly. "Michele, which of these is the one you require my assistance with?"

"Sorry, D," 'Chele said softly before turning about to sit and take control of the mouse. Darien moved closer to watch over the two women's shoulders as Michele keyed in a password that turned the gibberish on the screen into understandable, if technical words. From what Darien could tell a good half of them were in Greek, which he only understood tangentially. He recognized a few of the file names simply from having seeing them over the course of many years, but the one she opened he didn't know.

Once open a familiar sight appeared on the monitor; to the right was a three-D model of whatever the heck it was and to the left scrolling words and chemical symbols that was formula for it. "From what I've seen you should have the majority of the ingredients here. It takes about 24 hours to make once begun. It's not overly difficult and can handle some fudging and substitution. Just need to follow the steps."

Michele vacated the chair so Claire could sit directly before the computer and get a better look at the screen. "This is very interesting, Michele. How long before you need this?"

"I should be okay for another couple of days, but I will need a shot by then." 'Chele answered truthfully and Darien set a hand on her shoulder.

"'Chele, you okay?" He kept his touch gentle, noting how prominent the bones under his hand were. At a guess she was running out of far more than just lack of medication and sleep.

"Tired, Darien." She sighed and set a hand atop his. "Very tired."

"What's with the shot?" Hobbes asked, but this time the defensiveness was gone and 'Chele turned slightly to face him.

"It... I can't go into details, but without it ... Lets just say it wouldn't be pretty." 'Chele glanced back up at Darien when he squeezed her shoulder gently. "I get ... severe migraines and this is the only way to control them."

"Fawkes," Hobbes' tone clearly indicated that he knew something more was going on and that Darien knew all about it.

"Not now, Hobbes, and not here." Darien tipped his head down and chuckled softly, the irony of the situation not lost on him. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you, trust me on that."

"I'm not sure Ibelieve this," Claire said in a hushed voice, making it a good bet she had ferreted out at least some of the purpose of the drug Michele needed just to get through an average day. "I can have this ready by tomorrow evening, I believe. I just have one or two items I need to procure."

"Thanks," 'Chele told in her in all sincerity, then turned back to Hobbes. "You ready to hear about why you're protecting me?"

"More'n ready, kid, but not here." Hobbes chewed his lip for a few seconds. "Come on, we'll send Eberts on a coffee run and talk in our office."

Darien was relieved at Hobbes' use of 'our' for the dingy hole in the wall cubby they shared. 'Chele's hand twitched about his and he got a good dose of her emotions. She was scared, upset, and tired... tired of running, of having to leave the things she cared about, of having others call the shots in her life. But most of all she felt she was intruding on the life Darien had made here, that she'd come in and, by not realizing that he'd spun a tale to make the situation a bit easier, ruined everything he had built. "'Sokay, kitten, he don't bite ... too hard." He tried to convey that he wasn't mad, and that Hobbes would get over it in time through the touch they still shared.

"Darn," 'Chele mock complained, "A judicious use of teeth can spice up anything."

Claire choked and tried to cover it with a cough, while Hobbes' eyes widened for a long moment before he shook his head to hide the grin that had appeared. "This way," He led the way to the Keep door.

"Thanks, bub," Michele whispered, her gratitude coming through loud and clear.

"Well?" Hobbes called from out in the hall.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Darien griped playfully as he and 'Chele trailed along. "Slave driver."

Hobbes snorted, "And don't you forget it, my friend."