Title: A Traitor in their Midst (3/?)

Author: zarah

Rating: PG-13 because there'd be some swear words, buddy!

Spoilers: None. Takes place two years after the end of Season One, so none of those things that happened in Season Two actually happened here. Please take note of that so there'd be no confusion.

And there'd be some reference to my other fic, 'Anything Could Happen', so you might want to look at that… *hint, hint*

Dedication: To all those who reminded me that there are those who are waiting for the continuation of this fic. It had almost been… *counting* 10 *gasp!* months since I've updated, and I'm really, really, really sorry for that. But don't worry, I promise to update more frequently…

Chapter Three

Knock, knock, knock.

A small portion on the upper part of the door slid open, and a burly face peeked out. His sight was met with an image of a twenty dollar bill waved in front of his eyes. He grunted, pulled the door open, and took the money before he allowed the man to step in.

Brennan shoved his hands into his pockets as he entered the small nightclub. He was instantly greeted by the flickering of flashing lights and the overwhelming stench of cigarettes and liquors. A reminiscent of a smile touched his lips as he made his way into the bar, and he had some difficult time in trying to get past those who were in his path.

As he sat on one of the chairs the bartender seemed to have recognized him immediately. "The same?" He asked, his voice friendlier than usual.

Brennan nodded. "Yeah, Chuck. Thanks."

Chuck grinned at him, and then dropped the glass he was drying and immediately set out to create his old customer's drink.

The music around them was blaringly loud, and the song was an unfamiliar one to Brennan, though that didn't come as a surprise for him since he hadn't been listening to the radio for a long time. In his judgment, the song must have been pretty popular since most of those in the bar were already dancing wildly at the dance floor, their bodies swaying in rhythm to the pulsing beat.  There were those that stayed behind, of course, as they chose to nurse their drinks on the bar instead of strutting like idiots.

A glass was placed directly in front of him, and Brennan smiled at Chuck. "Thanks," he said again, as his hand reached forward and grabbed his drink. He took it to his lips and drank, and the familiar taste of the mixture of brandy and whisky overpowered his senses. The taste was strange, and terribly intoxicating. Before long, the glass he was holding was empty.

"Another round?" Chuck asked him.

"Sure," he replied.

And then the bartender was gone.

Brennan looked around the nightclub. It still looked the same way it did when he last visited it… which was about two years ago. Back then, he wasn't alone… he was with his teammates after they've finished an incredibly dreary yet difficult task. Back then, he was with Jesse, and Emma, and Shalimar…

…and Shalimar…

He closed his eyes, and immediately, the events that occurred earlier that night returned to haunt him.

They probably think I'm crazy, he thought grimly, hell, I could be, but I'll be damned if that woman wasn't her. I swear to God it was Shal—

"You okay there, mate?" Chuck asked him, the Irish accent in his tone apparent. "You were mumbling."

Brennan then realized that he had been saying the last words out loud. He blinked uneasily and said, "Yeah, yeah I'm fine."

Chuck then set the glass on the bar. "I haven't seen you around lately," he said to Brennan as he casually picked up the glass he was drying and resumed his task. "The last time I did was… let's see here… about two years ago. Right?"

He had to blink again at the accuracy of this man's guess. "Right." He said. "But how did you—"

Chuck waved the glass he just finished drying. "I remembered that night clearly," he said. "That was the night when mi boss's daughter got pissed off when your girlfriend made her wear her drink."

Brennan chuckled. "I remember that, too." He said. He never even bothered to correct Chuck's assumption that Shalimar was his girlfriend. "That was funny."

"It was a classic," Chuck told him. "That girl's a vicious bitch, I tell ya', and we all are grateful to your girlfriend for putting her in her damned place—" At that moment, he was called by another customer and his friends, and after a nod at Brennan he left to serve them.

Brennan was left to his thoughts, and his mind was busy trying to remember more of the details of that night. That was one of the best nights of his life, he realized, because it was the time when he danced with Shalimar…

"I remember that," he repeated to no one in particular, his eyes becoming darker, his expression fiercer. He grabbed his drink and drank it all at the same time. How could he ever forget that night, much more the day after that? It was their last evening together… because the day after that was the day that Shalimar died. 

But did she?

After what he'd seen earlier, Brennan was having doubts about that fact.

Hell, I've officially become insane. He thought, as he gripped at the glass he was holding tighter.

*

"Brennan," Adam said aloud, and waited for a response to come. "Brennan, can you hear me?" When the response he wanted still did not come, he turned towards Jesse and Emma. "He must have removed his comlink." He said with a slightly defeated look on his face.

She pursed her lips. "Great, that's just great." Emma said. She crossed her arms. "He's just out there somewhere, and who knows how we're going to contact him in case we need him or the helix… and how on earth are we going to know if something happens to him—"

"He's probably out there somewhere trying to sort things out." Jesse told her as he cut her tirade. "Brennan was pretty shaken up. Maybe he just needs time to think by himself."

Emma turned to look at him, and then sighed. "You're right." She admitted. "But still, I just can't help but be worried about him. I mean, you saw how… unsettled he was, Jesse. It takes a lot to set him off like that."

"Definitely a lot," Jesse confirmed. "But remember that this concerns… well, at least theoretically, this concerns Shalimar. And we all know how he is when it involves her."

Adam thought for a minute, before he asked, "Are you both sure you haven't seen this feral that Brennan fought?"

She shook her head. "No. We were both busy fighting ourselves."

"This is very serious," Adam told them gravely. "This might very well be a ploy, and a creative one at that."

Jesse stared at him, his expression clearly confused. "What are you saying, Adam?"

But Emma caught on pretty quickly. "Are you saying…" she said, "Are you saying that The Strand might be playing with us?"

"Or with Brennan to be more accurate." He said. "Ashlocke might be a bastard, but he's an intelligent bastard. He might have been planning this one all along, and now he's executing his plan."

"Plan?" Jesse asked. "And that plan would be…"

Adam fixed him with a stare. "Using Shalimar's memory as a distraction. Ashlocke's exploiting Brennan's weakness."