Chapter 18

Authors Note: Thanks to all the people who have reviewed! Especially Dawnie- 7, thank you so much! And constructive criticism is always appreciated, but why shouldn't Sable have been a virgin? Just because she has the 'bad girl' reputation doesn't necessarily make her 'damaged goods' lol. First impressions suck, don't they?

"Where's Arnoldo?" Sable asked from the window room looking over the training area below. After spending a wonderful evening talking and sharing pizza, yes Sands had even tried a piece of broccoli, thinking of the sex that had followed was the only way she found the patience to deal with Dawes.

Sable was moments away from walking out and just driving anywhere Sands wanted to go.

"Where is he?" Sands asked menacingly cracking his knuckles.

"He's not going to be in for the day, I'm taking over for today."

"You," both of them asked at the same time.

"Yeah, me," he reached over to the table behind him, "water?"

"That wasn't part of the deal."

Dawes curled his lip in disgust, did the man wear anything except black? Black boots, shirt, pants, didn't he own anything else besides that ghastly color?

"So no water then. Fine." Dawes pointed to the room below, "Go change, I'll tell you the directions once you're down there."

"Like hell you will," Sable crossed her arms. "This was between Arnoldo and us, you have no say in any of this."

"Had no say, keyword there. . . had. Are you willing to forfeit a mission just because you don't like me?''

They walked out with something like a 'fuck off' from one of them, but Dawes smiled in victory anyway. Let the games begin.

* * *

"What the hell! Are you bleeding?" Sands asked after he heard one of the bags fall and Sable muffle a yelp.

"Only a little, it's no big deal," she uttered a sound akin to a snarl as she stared at her arm where a thin trickle of blood came through where the rope had cut her skin. The bags looked harmless enough, simple and only filled with gravel, but the rope was so roughly hewn that if it fell the wrong way awful rope burn resulted.

"Damn it, Dawes! What're you trying to do," a thud rang out and then something was hitting his foot.

"It's a water bottle," Sable clarified as he handed it to her. "Want some?"

"Not really. The sooner we're outta here the faster I can get a real drink."

Her sight blurred a little, but she shrugged it off to being tired. Two bags dropped and she evaded them lithely. Sands did the same, coming so close that had she been watching more closely her breath would have caught at how many times he could have been hurt. At the last possible second he moved out of the way closer to the other side of the room.

"Sands," that was his first sign that something was wrong. There was an undercurrent to her voice, a certain kind of breathless panic that had all of his instincts on alert. "There's. . ."

He was able to catch her before she fell to the floor. What the hell was going on! He sensed another bag fall before it would have hit her, as it was it hit him instead. All ninety pounds of crushed rock and sand collided solidly with him at the same time as he did his best to shield her from it as the bag swung slowly back and forth until finally coming to a halt.

"Dawes what the fuck did you do?!" Sands yelled so he was sure to be heard.

"What did I do? I didn't do anything," he heard the reply from a speaker in the wall.

Kneeling beside her he cupped his hand around her mouth and nose gratified to feel her breath regulated and ultimately normal. Her skin wasn't cold or clammy so all that could have happened was that she fainted. It seemed hard to believe, but how hard had she been pushing herself? Unless. . . he reached around to search for the water bottle.

It was a few inches from her right hand and a good thing too otherwise he would have had a hard time of finding it. He uncapped the top and took a small drink, it was the only way of quelling his doubts.

The effects were instantaneous, he became drowsy and disoriented at the same time. By the weight of the liquid that was left in the bottle Sands could tell that she must have downed at least a quarter of it. She'd be out for awhile at least, the liquid even tasted like water. . . if water even had taste.

Throwing the bottle across the room he staggered to his feet. How dare they! This went above and beyond simple tests, this bordered insanity! Arnoldo couldn't have been a part of this could he? Sands shrugged, it didn't matter one way or the other right now until there was solid evidence.

He felt his stomach turn in nausea as he took the first couple of steps. Being blind threw off his internal balance and now with something fucking around with his system it was even more difficult to stay steady. The voice was back again screaming in his already wavering mind.

'Stop stumbling around like a drunk, boy. Knock'em dead any way you can.'

''Shut up,'' Sands growled refusing to put his hands out in front of him to try and locate a wall. This was humiliating enough without Dawes seeing his stumbling.

'Don't talk to me like that. Who the hell do you think you are?'

"Screw you," Sands unhinged one of the guns on his wrist and shot the next bag that fell from by the string. It was so heavy it simply thudded to the floor and didn't move again.

'Lucky shot, you couldn't do that again.'

"Shut the fuck up and leave me alone," he halted and waited for the next bag to fall.

'You're gonna fail, boy, and when you do I'll be right as always.'

"You're dead! Stay the hell out of my head," he muttered.

Sands walked forward never stopping, he had to get to the other side in order to help Sable. Bags fell, he moved as best he could, but a corner of his shirt ripped at the shoulder and the gun ran out of bullets. Sands threw it forward and heard it hit a wall almost immediately. This had to be the right wall, it just had to be.

Following the sound he knocked against it lightly all the way across before finally finding the door. Building a map of the building inside his mind he climbed the stairs holding onto the banister with most of his strength. His head was clearing of the weakness the one sip of water had caused. Luckily memory served him well and Dawes' little gasp of surprise only further emphasized his rage.

"What did you do to her," Sands repeated tilting his head to the side to listen for any movements in the room.

"You're threatening an upper ranking officer. You could be disbanded for this."

"Not if they don't find the body," Sands grinned cruelly.

"You wouldn't dare shoot me." Dawes was grasping at straws and they both knew it.

"Why did you poison her?"

"I told you, I didn't do anything to her."

"Bullshit. You're playing mind games and it's pissing me off-"

"I don't give a damn, I'm the boss here and you and your whore can fuck off for all I care."

"Frankly, I don't give a good goddamn how you die, but you will and I'll hire all of Broadway to dance on your grave."

"Did he. . . just call me. . . a whore," snarled Sable leaning heavily on the door.

"How-"Dawes asked sealing his fate.

"I walked," she snapped. "No thanks to you. Did you just call me a whore?!"

"Smoke'im," Sands expression was so dark, or at least she thought it was. With the way everything was spinning it was amazing to her that she hadn't fallen down the stairs.

"Okay, what's going on in here. Sounds like a fucking war's being waged with all the shouting." Arnoldo's unmistakable voice echoed up the staircase.

"Your agents have gone renegade," Dawes exclaimed.

"What are they doing here?" Arnoldo replied, "I told you to call them yesterday and tell them I wouldn't be in today."

"Oh did you, we seem to have missed that phone-call."

Arnoldo saw the deadly calm emanating from Sands that meant that he was on the brink of doing something rash. He took into quick account the pain and rage in Sable's eyes. Why was she holding onto the doorframe so hard? Her face was extremely pale and her legs and arms trembled.

"I'm going to ask only once, Dawes. What the hell happened here?"

"I took over training for you," Dawes sighed.

"Why?" Arnoldo's voice left no room for argument, this was the past drill-sergeant in him emerging.

"They showed up."

"Because you neglected to call them!" Arnoldo barked, "Now why," he motioned to Sable, "does she look like that?!"

"I didn't do that," Dawes yelled. "Why are you always protecting them? Jesus Christ, Arnold."

"Listen to me very closely,'' Arnoldo backed Dawes up into a wall and spoke clearly so there would be no confusion, "She's one of the best agents the CIA has, she could go out and save your ass one day. I want to know what the fuck you've done to turn her from what she looked like yesterday. . . into what she looks like now. If you still don't know, I can go find Tony and the polygraph machine and find out that way."

"A slight sleep inducer," Dawes just about whispered.

"From where?"

"The lab, it was them who did it. Not me, I just supplied the water."

"The lab!" Sands procured another gun and held it directly level with Dawes' chest. They were at an angle that if Sands fired he would hit him without risk of hurting Arnoldo. "As in the lab downstairs where new medicines are tested? The lab where nothing can leave unless on special request? It had better not be that lab or else it'll be you being sent down there. In pieces."

"Call off your-"

"I would seriously think about rephrasing that." Arnoldo held onto control just barely. "How would you know if something in her body were to react against whatever was in that draught? She could have died and it would have been your head, you understand?"

"Sands. . ." Sable crossed the room and Sands took most of her weight onto him without batting an eye. He heard her whispered request, her voice had the quality of one who had just awoken from a deep sleep. "Put the gun away, if you shoot him you'll get locked away, what good will that do?"

"Yeah, listen to your-"

"Seriously rethink that," Arnoldo pressed against Dawes' diaphragm cutting off air. Didn't the man have any sense at all?

"You just don't learn, do you." Sands gun disappeared back up his sleeve, "Call her anything like that again and I'll cut your tongue out. Then I'll really teach you manners, savvy?"

"Can't. . . stand," Sable said on a breath, Arnoldo could see that it was taking all she had even with Sands' help. Sands helped her sit on one of the low tables before positioning himself next to her.

"Oh and Sands? This will just about conclude the tests." Arnoldo had found the perfect counterbalance, "With the help of Dawes it seems as if I have to let you off two days early. What with the deal breaking, I owe you."

"Wha-!"

"We'll discuss the job in a couple'a days. Take her home, she'll be fine by tomorrow."

"Car keys," Sable had her head resting on Sands shoulder, he took them and looked questioningly at Arnoldo.

"Someone'll drive you back. They'll meet you here in a few moments. Dawes and I need to go speak to Tony."

"Like hell we do!" Dawes objected, but Arnoldo interrupted by opening the door and motioning towards it.

"Five minutes at most," Arnoldo repeated, then the door closed and they were left alone.

"Well, that was interesting," Sable grinned faintly.

"Having fun yet?" Sands took a deep breath to calm the rage that burned aching for an outlet. "Sleep, it's all right.

"Can't sleep. 's only five minutes."

By the time someone finally came around she was sleeping so soundly that she didn't know when Sands picked her up to carry her to the waiting car. She was only about five-five and weighed about one-fifteen. This was nothing to Sands who had carried more on his back in training for the CIA.

His protective streak didn't surprise him, he defended what was his. When Sable had become his, he didn't know, but that didn't change the bottom line. She was his partner, having never been paired with anyone he didn't know what the protocol was, but leaving her behind hadn't been an option.

The instantaneous surge of anger on her behalf was new to him, he wasn't used to feeling responsible for anyone. He hadn't cared whether his father or mother died, he'd never had any pets, nothing he'd ever loved. When had she broken through his defenses?

Was it her trust in him? He'd never had anyone trust him, either, and it was a humbling thing, which confused him even more. Words like trust, humble, protect, care for-- they didn't exist in his vocabulary. He was much more comfortable with words like outwit, kill, pain, no survivors.

He'd have to figure this out, and soon, because he couldn't afford to let his guard down. His defenses were already weakened due to his lack of sight, his equilibrium was thrown off balance, he should be focusing on fully recovering, regaining his strength, honing the skills he'd always taken for granted.

Carrying an unconscious Sable to his bedroom hadn't been on his To Do list. He settled her on his bed, covered her with the comforter and settled in a chair near the bed. He was playing nurse-maid, Sands thought ruefully, but he'd be damned if he could do anything else.

She'd been hurt for him, had taken hits meant for him. Sable left herself vulnerable in the seconds it took for her to alert him, without speaking, of danger. From what he remembered, she'd always looked after herself first and let the others watch their own backs.

What had caused the recent change of heart? It wouldn't have been the sex, she had the same dismissive attitude toward the act as he did. Sands had to admit that sex was different with her, but that fell back under the trust category.

He sighed while lighting a cigarette, this was why he never thought too deeply about anything. Do the job, get the job done, move on. Focus on the pain, obliterate it, move on. There was no pain here, no job that needed to be done when it came to her. There was, however, confusion, strange alien emotions, and the urge to have her back at risk to his own.

What the hell was going on and, more importantly, why didn't he try harder to stop it?