BNW8/?

------------

10:00 A.M.: SAN DIEGO, CA.

"Robert!"

"Hahhh! Damn it, Eberts, don't do that! Nearly gave me a coronary!"

"I'm sorry, but I didn't expect to find you here! You aren't supposed to have access to this computer and certainly not to Darien's medical files!"

"Yeah, well I can do a lotta things around here that you an' the fish don't know about."

"You have to go, right this minute!"

"Not 'till I find what I'm lookin' for. I promise, I'll be logged-off and vanished before the fat-man knows what happened..."

"You don't understand! I thought it was an outside intruder trying to sabotage our system!"

"Oh crap, Ebes, you didn't..."

"Of course I did! I had no idea it was you. If I had..."

"Go on, Eberts." came a soft, menacing voice from behind both men. "If you had known it was Hobbes who was in here breaking regulations and violating the terms of his contract, you would have done... what?"

Eberts paled, slowly turned and nearly passed out at seeing his employer, despite the fact that he was the one who had alerted the older man to the problem.

"Sir, I... if you'd allow me to..."

"Stop. Don't speak. My office, now. I'll be there when this... situation has been dealt with."

"Yes, sir." Eberts replied meekly, giving Bobby a regretful glance as he made his escape. Bobby decided to turn on his indignance, praying that asserting rights he knew he didn't have would confuse his boss and get him off the hook. When two huge men in dark suits appeared behind the Official, however, Hobbes felt fear touch his heart.

"Boss, c'mon... he's not just my partner he's my best friend! You wouldn't tell us how he really got sick or when he was comin' back..."

"And that justifies what you've done?"

"What? What'd I do but try an' stay informed?"

"Uh-huh. Lock him up downstairs, gentlemen. Code White."

Bobby suddenly leapt up from his chair and began to back away. He knew what Code White meant and just the thought terrified him.

"Hell, no! You ain't shovin' me in there! I'll put a hole in anybody who tries!"

The other men swiftly advanced on Hobbes until he had nowhere left to go. He struggled, but they easily flipped the smaller agent so his face was pressed into the wall. Then they tightly grasped Bobby's arms and pulled them behind him, preventing him from reaching his weapon. Smiling thinly, the Official strode over and confiscated Bobby's gun.

"As I was saying, place him in the containment room. Make sure he gets food, water and his medication, but otherwise he's to have no contact. Noone is to speak to him. Understood?"

"Clearly, sir." One of the goons responded.

"Very good. Move."

Hobbes screamed and cursed as the two men dragged him from the room, but the Official's expression remained calm and relaxed. Long before the cries were cut off with the thump of a closing elevator door, the leader of the Agency had already walked away from the chaos, intent on rescuing his interrupted day.

--------------------------

XAVIER INSTITUTE: FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER

"God, this place is amazing. That computer... I've never seen... never imagined anything like that in my life!" Darien enthused, grinning as he and Logan stood at the door of their shared room.

"The professor's got a brain the size of Texas. No surprise he was in on buldin' somethin' like Cerebro. Just remember you can't get in there on your own."

"I wouldn't know what to do If I did. Technology is not my thing."

"We'll change that in short order, guaranteed. I have to get to class. I'll see you at dinner."

"I understand. I really appreciate you showing me around. Thanks to you, I think I can actually make it to meals and back on my own, now."

"Don't forget, Jean's gonna come get you around five."

Darien grimaced.

"The shot. Man, I hate the stupid shot."

Logan rubbed his left hand absently, slowly running his fingers over the knuckles. After a moment the action seemed to disturb him and he stopped, looking back up at Darien.

"Don't have much love for needles myself, but if there was somethin' I could take to make sure the people around me never ended up bleedin' on the floor... I'd run for the infirmary singin' the damned ' Hallelujah Chorus'." Logan countered, walking away.

Darien gaped slightly as the other man's point hit home, then turned to go into the room. The walking tour had been extensive, broken up only by a half-hour lunch, and he was more than ready to lay down and sleep until Jean arrived. He was about to close himself in when an alarm sounded briefly. It stopped in a minute or two, so, assuming it wasn't a full fledged attack or something else life-threatening, he shut and locked the door Pulling off his shoes and socks, he stretched out on the bed and within moments was unaware of the world around him.

---------------------

THE INFIRMARY:

"How is she, Jean?"

"Not well, Charles. Her temperature is dangerously high and she's extremely dehydrated. I'd almost say she's suffering from some sort of infection but I won't know until I do some blood-work."

"Is she responding to the intravenous fluids?"

"Very slowly. I'm worried about her."

He turned his head and asked his next question of the man standing just behind him.

"What about that strange pack we found near her body, Scott?"

"I haven't really had time to look at it. From what I can tell just by looking, it has some kind of circulation system, but it isn't for oxygen or water. Give me time to take it apart."

"You'll have a report tomorrow?"

"Definitely."

"Good. Do everything you can for her, Jean. Since she carried no identification, we need to know who she is and how she found her way into the school without any of our security measures being triggered."

"I'll do my best."

"I know. Scott..."

"... get to work on the pack. I will as soon as classes are over. Speaking of which, I left twelve teenage boys alone with a motorcycle... if I don't get back it'll either be a different color or in pieces."

"Go ahead. I'll update you at dinner."

"Okay. Thanks."

----------------------

5:00

"Darien? Are you here?"

Gradually, following several seconds of confusion and a frightening moment when he couldn't remember why he'd been sleeping in an unfamiliar room, Darien made it onto his feet, stumbled to the door, unlocked and opened it for Jean. "I'm sorry. I should have known you'd be napping after Wolverine dragged you all over the mansion."

"It's okay. I had a great time, actually. He made the perfect tour guide." he told her, going to the dresser for a clean pair of socks. He dropped back to the bed and began to re-dress his feet as they talked. "I heard an alarm just before I went to sleep. Is everything okay?"

"It was nothing. No real emergency. Don't worry about it."

"Oh... okay. Soon as I get my shoes tied, I'll be ready to go. By the way, what do I do for laundry?"

"Just let one of us know. It'll be picked up in the morning and returned that evening, so don't wait until you're stuck with nothing but one pair of boxer shorts, or we'll lose you for an entire day." she joked.

"Message received. Okay. I'm ready. I'm not happy, but I'm ready."

"I'm the best with shots, I swear. You'll barely feel it."

"Claire always says that. It's always a lie."

Jean laughed.

"Claire is your doctor?"

"Back home, yeah. She's my friend, too. Second only to my partner."

"Sounds like you have a wonderful life."

"From the outside lookin' in, maybe it seems that way."

Darien fell silent and, though Jean made one or two more attempts at conversation, he would not respond. Once they made it down to the infirmary, she opened her mouth to try again, but she got no further than that before Darien gasped out the name he had mentioned earlier and raced away from her side.

"Claire!"

"Darien, wait. Don't get too close..."

"What is she doin' here?! What the hell happened to her?" he asked, brushing the woman's lank hair gently away from her face.

"You know her."

"This is the one I was just talkin' about... this is Claire. God, Claire, what'd you do..."

"She's the reason for the alarm you heard this afternoon. A student found her unconscious on the floor of Professor Xavier's office and immediately alerted the staff to an intruder."

"She's not an intruder! Damn.. she must've followed me... but how the hell did she get in?"

"That's what we were wondering. We found this laying not far from where she was found." Jean replied, showing Darien the backpack. His eyes went wide.

"This.. this thing isn't supposed to exist anymore. I didn't think it did, anyway... she must've been working on it in secret."

"What is it?"

"It holds a supply of Quicksilver and lets somebody besides me go see-through. Look, is she gonna be okay? Just tell me that."

"I think so. She was very ill when we found her, but there's no sign of infection and she's responding to treatment."

Darien swiped at the tears he suddenly realized were tracing down his cheeks and turned back to Claire.

"She must've stayed under too long... damn it, Claire, I don't understand...why'd you come chasin' after me, huh? Just 'cause I'm a trouble magnet at home, doesn't mean it'll happen here..."

"Darien, come sit down, alright? You need your shot."

"You're sure she's gonna recover?" he asked, resisting as Jean pulled him away and sat him on the next bed over.

"I'm sure. She'll be fine. Now hold still."

"I hate this crap..."

"It'll be over before you even know I'm doing anything. Almost done.. there. See. No... problem..."

Jean's sentence fragmented as she watched the drug hit her patient's system. He collapsed onto his side, head thrashing on the pillow, and for almost thirty seconds his eyes were clamped shut and his face was frozen in a rictus that spoke of obvious pain. Gradually, he relaxed, but Jean was left in shock.

"I'm so sorry. Did I... did I make a mistake, or..."

"No..., no it wasn't you. It's always that way... like I said, Claire always says it won't hurt... but she lies. It doesn't really bug me anymore, though. She does it to ease her mind and mine. Sometimes.. it even works." He joked weakly.

Though she was sorely tempted to reach out and stroke his face or comfort him with words, Jean fought the impulse, sensing his pride at being able to handle it as well as he had. Instead she favored him with a smile and genuine praise.

"Good job. You're incredibly brave. I can bring a chair if you'd like to sit with your friend for a while."

"Please. Umm... Miss Grey?"

"Jean."

"Okay. Jean... I know you wanted to do the pity routine. Thanks for skipping it."

"How could I ever pity someone so strong? You rest. I'll find that chair."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

TBC......