Chapter 2

"It's okay, you're okay Bobby," Claire soothed as Bobby Hobbes slowly struggled back to consciousness.

Almost three days had passed since he'd been found by the back up team seriously injured on the floor of Darien Fawkes apartment. There was no sign of his younger partner but from evidence at the scene they knew he'd put up a fight, and they also knew he'd been heavily sedated before being taken.

Claire gripped Bobby's hand and with the sleeve of her sweater on the other dabbed at another tear that threatened. She'd shed a lot of tears over the past few days for her two friends. She'd been at Bobby's bedside for the entire time, made to stand back and watch the neurosurgery team at Fort Leavitt fight battle to save his life. A single vicious blow had cracked his skull and caused Bobby's brain to swell to such a degree that he had undergone emergency surgery to alleviate the pressure. After a nail-biting 24 hours when his condition had been critical, the doctors were now confident enough to start rousing him from his chemically-induced coma. Bobby stirred again, his eyes opening briefly and, though not really focusing on anything in particular, he mumbled incoherently.

The door opened quietly and Claire gazed up to see Albert Eberts coming back into the room carrying two steaming cups of coffee, and she smiled wearily at her co-worker and friend as he handed one to her. Eberts had spent much of his free time at the hospital with Claire, only leaving when he was needed by The Official or to catch up on some sleep, and she had been so grateful for his company and reassuring presence.

Despite the constant childish bickering and often open animosity between Hobbes and the clerk, Claire knew that the kind-hearted young man was as devastated as she was at the events of the past few days.

He studied with concern the sallow complexion and dark shadows circling Claire's eyes, but knew there was no point in trying to convince her to get some rest. Both he and The Official had tried and failed. She had stubbornly refused to leave until Hobbes was fully conscious, stating that she didn't want him to wake up surrounded by strangers and on his own. In the same situation she knew he would never leave her side, not for a moment.

Bobby stirred again but this time his eyes opened properly and he smiled at her. "Yo Keepie!" he managed hoarsely his voice practically a whisper.

"Oh, Bobby, Thank God. I've…we've been so worried."

The relief was evident on her lovely face leaning down to plant a gentle kiss on Bobby's lips, her tears dropping onto his face.

"Definitely worth takin' a crack on the noggin for that!" Bobby said, a slow dreamy smile spreading across his face, and then weakly, "You even think about tryin' that Ebes and you're a dead man."

The young agent smiled warmly. "Welcome back Robert."

Bobby's eyes flickered shut and they thought he had drifted away again, only to open quickly again moments later as he realized someone was missing from the little bedside scene.

"Where's Fawkes?"

It was just before dawn now and Hobbes was asleep.

An exhausted Claire turned to Eberts, and the young mans heart broke to see the intense sadness in her eyes. "It's the end of everything isn't it? " She spoke softly.

"Without Darien there's no QS9300 Project and without the QS9300 Project there's no Agency. I don't think Bobby would stay without him anyway, it would be too painful."

He had never really been very good at dealing with human emotions and now struggled to find the words to comfort one of his dearest friends.

"It's not over until it's over, as my Great Aunt Dorothy always says, and I believe that to be the case, until I'm proved wrong. And that rarely happens."

"Oh, Albert I know it's going to be hard for you too, you'll miss both of them as much as I will. " She touched his arm affectionately the ghost of a smile touching her face. "Wherever Darien is he could be lost to us for good now. Anything could have happened to him, I can't bear to think about it." She pulled her sweater around her protectively and shivered slightly.

"Aagh! It makes me so bloody angry. After everything he's been through, after everything he brought to this Project to the Agency, that some, some big thief can just waltz in and steal him from us. Steal his life. And the worst thing is that we don't even know where to start looking. It's hopeless." Her voice trailed to a whisper as she fought to control her surging emotions. The last thing she wanted to do was wake Bobby. He'd been distraught enough when they'd been forced to tell him about Darien's kidnapping, blaming himself as always for not getting there in time and covering his partners back.

"Perhaps not entirely hopeless." Eberts spoke softly now, and Claire thought she'd misheard him at first.

He got up and went to the door, taking a furtive glance up and down the corridor outside before closing it firmly. He'd just made a decision to disclose some highly sensitive information that The Official wanted kept under wraps for the moment, until he could formulate some sort of plan of action.

"We know where Darien is being held." He said it quickly and then watched her jaw drop in astonishment, a multitude of emotions sweeping across her ashen face.

"What? How?" She stuttered, glancing over to make sure Bobby wasn't hearing this.

"They've actually made very little real effort to conceal their tracks," Eberts advised.

"It was Jonas Spelling's signature on the check found with Robert."

Claire gasped and her hand shot to her mouth. The knowledge that her former boss was involved filled her with an overwhelming sense of dread, quickly followed by good old-fashioned anger. "The Department of Defense. Oh my God! It's everything Darien feared the most. Well, what are we waiting for? Why don't we just go and get him back," she demanded.

"Claire, the very fact that they're not trying to conceal Darien's location means that it has been sanctioned from the highest level, otherwise to even contemplate this extreme course of action would be reckless in the extreme. Until The Official is able to…ah.. negotiate his safe return our hands are tied. We simply have no authority."

"What do you mean no bloody authority?" she shouted, instantly lowering her voice to a whisper as Bobby stirred in the bed behind her.. "We're talking about the life of a man here, our friend. Let's just steal him back, teach the buggers a lesson."

Claire's uncharacteristic outburst now made Eberts consider that perhaps it hadn't been wise to tell her everything. Nevertheless, he cleared his throat for the rest.

"That's the problem. Technically he doesn't 'belong' to us any more. The DoD handled everything impeccably as far as the official records will show, and reimbursed The Agency in full for The Gland… and its host."

"That's blood money Albert and you know it." Her face was flushed and angry now, frustration in her tone. She gestured towards Hobbes. "What are we going to tell him?"

"For that reason Claire I am going to have to insist you don't reveal any of this conversation to Robert. If you do I will just deny it. At this delicate stage the last thing The Official needs is a rescue attempt that will in all likelihood fail, and then they'll put Darien somewhere we can never reach him."

Claire ran a hand through her blond hair staring in desperation at her colleague and friend. "So what do we do next?" She asked, her voice almost a whisper.

"Well, I suggest we pay our friends at the Department of Defense a visit."

Eberts and Claire both turned at the same time to stare in shock at their unexpected eavesdropper. Neither of them had heard him enter or actually knew how long he'd been standing there listening to their conversation. Eberts blushed under the intense stare of The Official, his mortified expression turning to one of confusion when he noticed that for first time in many days the Chief of the Agency was actually…smiling.

"Doctor Keeply! You and I have been granted an audience with Jonas Spelling, to discuss the future of the QS9300 Project. Reading between the lines, I'm willing to take a bet that our boy Fawkes is giving them trouble already."


Ella Craven stared intently at Darien Fawkes' image on one of the cctv monitors covering his holding room. At that moment he appeared to be asleep, lying on his bed face down one arm dangling off the side. All was quiet now, but they'd had to forcibly restrain and sedate him a short time before so that his medical team could take tissue and blood samples for testing. Though they had anticipated some initial resistance, Darien had given non-co-operation and truculence a whole new meaning, refusing the most basic requests and, more importantly, any attempts to 'persuade' him to demonstrate his quicksilver abilities.

Ella couldn't help but admire his stubborn determination. To her mind it would make this assignment all the more interesting. However, her superiors wanted more immediate results, which was why to her annoyance Charles Borden and Dr. Claire Keeply had been invited to the facility. Spelling hoped that by now The Agency were coming to terms with the loss of their prized asset, after all they had been compensated in full. He also hoped that the presence of two familiar faces might reassure Fawkes, and get him to co-operate without the need for further forced intervention.

Sartori sat beside her, staring at her staring at Darien. "I know that look." An amused glint danced in his eyes.

"And what look would that be?" Arching one perfect eyebrow as she smiled back at him.

The big man ran a finger tenderly along her perfect jawbone. "The cat who got the cream!" He nodded slightly towards the monitor, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Ella allowed herself another smile. Sartori knew her too well.

Darien Fawkes fascinated her, there was no doubt about that. He was definitely not what she'd expected, in fact, he'd been a bit of a revelation. The fact that he was so attractive was a real bonus as far as she was concerned. It was rare these days that she met a man – or woman – who could arouse these feelings within her.

Sartori didn't count, though they were as close as any two people could be without the added complication of an intimate relationship. Besides, Bruno's sexual 'tastes' lay elsewhere, and Ella reflected that they would probably end up sharing Darien between them as they did almost everything else.

Ella was brought out of her studied reflection by the beep of her cell phone, which she irritably snatched up from the table, listening as security at the front gate advised her that Charles Borden and Claire Keeply had arrived.

Sighing she turned to Sartori. "The dead beats from the Agency are here. Let's get our little I-Man up and ready for his visitors".


The long sterile hallways of the DoD complex sent a shiver down Claire's spine. Memories of her time as an employee came flooding back, mostly bad ones, which she thought she'd managed to exorcise over the last few years working with the Agency.

Though Borden could undoubtedly be a ruthless, manipulative bastard at times, his tactics were nothing compared to Spelling and his people. Claire had been there and sampled it, and now found herself wishing she could run as fast as possible in the opposite direction to get away. Only the thought that Darien was here, somewhere, and that he needed her kept her following the two armed guards deeper into the facility. By the time they reached their destination on a lower sub-level, she had actually lost count of the number of security checks they had encountered along the way.

As they were ushered into a spacious briefing room, Jonas Spelling stepped forward smiling, his hand extended towards The Official.

"Ah, Charles. Welcome, welcome!"

Borden studied the man and his hand with undisguised contempt, glaring at him as if he'd just crawled up from underneath a dumpster. His fixed smile faltering for a moment under the Fat man's scrutiny, Spelling decided to turn his attention elsewhere. "And the lovely Claire, I can't tell you how pleased I am that you accepted my invitation."

Claire fought the overwhelming temptation to kick Jonas Spelling where it hurt. Then the creep wouldn't be so glad to see her.

"Cut the crap Spelling." Borden's low growl, interrupted her violent musings, his dislike for the other man evident. "We're not here to exchange pleasantries. You've taken something that belongs to my agency and I want it back."

She was about to protest that her Kept was not a 'something', but thought better of it when she noted the hard expression on The Official's already flushed face.

Spelling sat himself at the conference table, placing his elbows on the highly polished surface, fingers angled together under his chin, looking at them both in turn.

"Well, that 'something' technically belongs to us now, paid for in full I believe. Did you get the check?" A self-satisfied smirk touched the man's face, and Borden took a long deep breath, knowing it wouldn't do to lose control now. Too much depended on him playing along; he had to bide his time.

"Neither Darien Fawkes nor The Gland are for sale."

"Come on Charles." Spelling had already had more than enough of Borden's blustering anger. "Do you really think we would just sit back and watch you consistently under-use such a valuable asset? It was only a matter of time before you got him killed on one of those pathetic little assignments for F&G. If not the DoD, then another agency would have snatched him from you sooner or later. We just got in first. It's all about tactics." Spelling smiled at them smugly.

"One of my best agents nearly died because of your so called 'tactics'." The Official spat furiously.

"Ah yes, Agent Robert Hobbes." Spelling shrugged casually. "Collateral damage I'm afraid!"

"You bastard!" It was Claire's turn now, ignoring The Official's warning glare.

"Bobby Hobbes is my friend. He's Darien's friend too, and when he's well enough you'd better find a bloody big hole to hide in."

"If and when Agent Hobbes comes looking I'll make sure he finds me. As for Darien, well he's going to be making some interesting new friends very soon." Spelling studied his former employee intently. He'd forgotten how lovely she was when she was angry.

"Good to see you haven't changed Claire, still fighting everyone's corner. Always ignoring that line between your duty as an employee of the US government and your misplaced sense of loyalty to The Kept. That's the reason you had to leave us in the first place isn't it?"

"Actually Jonas, the reason I left had more to do with the DoD's practices, which basically went against every moral code in the book."

That self-satisfied smile again. "You've obviously been reading the wrong book Claire."

"Maybe she's been reading the right book and you're just a sniveling, thieving, sorry excuse for a mother…" Borden's temper ignited, even though he'd done his best to keep it in check.

"Now, now Charlie. Remember the blood pressure," Spelling goaded, enjoying the fact that he'd rattled the Fat Man's cage once again.

Claire's voice cut through any thoughts both men had of a further verbal battle.

"Gentlemen. Let's not forget why we're here shall we?" she snapped harshly, then calmly reminding them, "Darien?"

The mention of his agent's name brought about another expletive from The Official leveled in Spelling's direction.

The Director of he DoD held up a hand in surrender. He didn't have time for this and needed to concentrate on the main reason for inviting Borden and the doctor to the complex. Hopefully their visit would go some way to calming Fawkes. The ultimate goal was to get him operational and out in the field for the DoD in the shortest possible time, though Spelling was not completely averse to his own research medical teams preference for making him a full time lab rat. Either plan would involve some degree of co-operation from him, which they just weren't getting at the moment.

Borden still refusing to take a seat at the table stormed off to the far side of the room to glower, while Spelling composed himself, straightening his dark tie.

"Darien is being a little…'difficult'." He caught the quick amused glances exchanged by his guests, but chose to ignore them, continuing, "Frankly, he's refusing to co-operate in any way. We've had to resort to drastic measures just to do routine blood work on him."

"Drastic measures!" Claire had a very good idea what that meant. "You idiots! Do you realize that by overdosing him with a cocktail of chemicals you could do permanent damage to both Darien…" she glanced sideways at Borden "…and the gland. He has a unique metabolism and immune system."

Spelling nodded. "My team have studied your data very carefully Claire, but there's nothing like first hand experience. Which brings me to the reason why I've invited you here; I was hoping that Charles would agree to your temporary transfer, just until Darien has, uh, settled in?"

Spelling closed his eyes and awaited the expected explosion from Borden, and opened them a moment later when it didn't come. He decided to continue while he had their attention. "Charles we can strike a deal here. In exchange for the loan of Dr. Keeply, the Agency can retain exclusively any new data pertaining to the QS9300 Project. Furthermore, we'll add another 3 million to your bank balance as a token of our appreciation for research purposes."

Borden eyed the man suspiciously. "And what exactly do you get?"

"We get to share in the future of the Project. Our research team working with your team, Dr. Keeply overseeing everything of course." He paused, knowing the next part of the deal wouldn't go down well. "We also secure exclusivity to Fawkes; All missions sanctioned and overseen by my personnel only. You and the Agency will officially relinquish any further control or… contact."

Claire was staring aghast at them. After all that had been done to Darien and Bobby, how could The Official even be considering this offer, it was absurd, wasn't it?

"Don't I have a say in any of this?" It was time to make a stand she decided.

"Of course you do Claire…" Spelling began not altogether convincingly.

"Dr. Keeply, you will do as you're ordered," cut in The Official sharply. "And those orders are that you remain here for the time being to work alongside Jonas and his team."

Claire opened her mouth to say something, and then closed it just as quickly. Words failed her. She couldn't believe what had just been agreed. The Official had effectively sold Darien's soul to the Devil himself, in the form of Jonas Spelling just so that he could keep a grasp, however tenuous, on his damned I-Man Project.

Spelling could hardly believe the outcome either. He'd expected more resistance, but assumed that Borden had caved in so quickly because this deal meant he at least still retained partial control of the QS9300 Project, for the time being at least. With the additional funding he might even produce another I-Man in the not too distant future.

Then Spelling was reaching for a button on the intercom just in front of him on the table.

"Ask Agent Craven to bring him up to sub level 3 briefing room."


Ella Craven entered, an amused smile playing on her face, and the reason was evident a few moments later. From outside in the corridor came a commotion, and Claire's heart leapt at the familiar voice raised in irritation.

"Will you stop with the pushing. I'm in okay!"

Darien Fawkes came into the briefing room then, hands jammed into the pockets of a pair of white cotton draw-string scrubs, slung low on his slim hips. The outline of a bandage showing beneath the tight fitting white t-shirt that gripped his lean muscled torso like a second skin. Behind Darien came Sartori and an armed escort.

The two-bit punk with attitude act dropped the instant Darien set eyes on his Keeper and The Official. Claire reacted instinctively to his sudden appearance and to the look of overwhelming relief that swept across his face when he saw her, moving forward quickly, her arms wrapping themselves around her Kept protectively. Darien gripped her tightly in return, his face burying itself in her hair.

From across the room Ella flashed a look of pure venom in Claire's direction.

A moment later Darien pulled away to stare down at her, his eyes full of concern though almost too afraid to ask. "Bobby?"

Claire touched his face reassuringly. "He's fine. It'll take more than a little bump on the head to finish him."

Darien's relief was palpable. "Thank God. I thought he was, you know? Guess there was nothin' much in his thick skull to start with huh?" His attempt at humor was more to ease his own pent up fears than anything else.

"He'll be in the hospital for a few more days yet, with the nurses fussing over him no doubt."

As Darien stood back from her, Claire caught the murderous glare he shot in Sartori's direction. The bald man seemed to find something amusing.

Now that she could get her first real look at him, Claire noticed immediately how pale and exhausted he looked, and the dark shadows beneath Darien's eyes which were red rimmed and slightly bloodshot. Not the QSM kind of bloodshot, but more than likely the result of the sedatives and other drugs they'd been forcing into his system over the past few days. He looked terrible. He also seemed on edge, and it took Claire a moment to realize he was still gripping her hand tightly as if afraid to let go.

Charles Borden reached out and briefly touched Darien's shoulder. "How ya doin' kid?" Claire was convinced she saw the hint of real concern on The Official's usually inscrutable face, though she couldn't be sure.

"Uh, okay sir, considering I've been beaten up, kidnapped, drugged and stashed in freakin' area 51." He ran a hand across tired eyes and then from habit through his hair, staring anxiously from Borden to Claire. "Fish, Keepie. Please tell me you've come to bust me outta here, cause guys, this is just about my worst nightmare."

Borden glanced away, unwilling or unable to meet Darien's gaze, and when he turned to Claire for reassurance he saw only an intense sadness there.

"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry….." she began, but her words caught in her throat and she fought back the tears that had threatened to spill the moment he'd walked in through the door.

"Oh.. my.. God!" The sudden realization hit him then. He was here to stay.

"Listen kid…." As Borden reached out a tentative hand to his shoulder again, Darien dropped heavily down onto the edge of the conference table, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut.

"How much Charlie?" his voice was quiet, resigned now.

"What?" Borden looked genuinely confused.

"You've sold me out you fat bastard, so I think I deserve to know how much I'm worth. What's the goin' rate for an Invisible Man these days huh?

"Fawkes, that's enough." Borden growled a low warning, not wanting this discussion here in front of Spelling and his agents who were watching in rapt fascination.

"I thought we had a deal Charlie? I coulda walked away from your crappy little agency a thousand times in the past few months, but I stayed. Mostly cause of Bobby and Claire, but also out of some freakin' misplaced sense of loyalty to you. But then you wouldn't know the meaning of the word 'loyalty' if it walked up and bit you on your fat ass," he hissed spitefully.

In all the time she'd worked for him, Claire had never known a moment when The Official had been truly lost for words, until now. The man's usual bluster was gone and he stared into the corner of the room, anywhere but at his former agent.

Spelling's voice cut across the tension, and Claire saw Darien clench his hands into tight fists as the man spoke. "Deals are made to be broken Darien, it's good business practice. Charles has done what he had to do to safeguard the future of the Agency and of the QS9300 Project. After all it was Kevin's legacy."

Darien was on his feet fast to confront Spelling, just inches away from the man. "Don't you ever, ever mention my brother, you spineless pile of cr…"

Claire screamed a warning just as Sartori's huge fist pounded into Darien's left side. The shock of the sudden vicious kidney blow and the intense, excruciating pain that accompanied it sent him to his knees where he fought desperately to draw in a breath, coughing and dry heaving at the same time. Claire was immediately at his side, a soothing hand rubbing his back, glaring angrily up at Sartori.

"Darien, Darien," Spelling sighed wearily, nodding his approval to Sartori. "Respect and discipline were obviously in short supply at the Agency, but we have very different standards here. Perhaps it's time for our young friend to go back to his room eh, Bruno?"

The big man smiled, leaning down he grabbed Darien's left arm and hauled him roughly to his feet, ignoring Claire's outraged protest.

"A bit more time on your own should give you a chance to consider your future here at the DoD. And from tomorrow you will behave yourself and fully co-operate with your Handler and medical team. Do you understand?"

Spelling's face was a few inches from Darien's now. "Bruno, perhaps Darien could do with another quick lesson before bedtime?"

Despite the fire in his back Darien still managed a cocky grin as he spoke through pain-clenched teeth, "You sure you don't want to ask ole Charlie boy there for a re-fund...ouch!" Sartori's large hand clamped like a vice around his bicep as he pulled him roughly towards the doorway, the guard ready and waiting in the corridor.

"Wait!" Claire couldn't bear to think what would happen to Darien if she let him leave the room at that moment with those people. Sartori stopped in his tracks, and both he and Darien stared back curiously at her from the doorway. Ella, arms folded, just looked irritated, mumbling something under her breath.

Claire spoke directly to Spelling. "If I agree to stay on, temporarily, you have to promise me that no-one lays a finger on him."

Studying her intently for a long moment, Spelling took the time to consider the request and then nodded agreement, on one condition. "You'll have to ensure we do get his full co-operation."

"I'll do my best," she hedged, glancing nervously at her friend, who stared back at her with a mix of confusion and relief.

"Your best won't be good enough Dr. Keeply. If he doesn't start behaving, then we'll have to resort to.…other means. And you know what they are."

"Okay! But I need to talk to him… alone!"

Spelling ignored the look of anger Ella flashed at him. "Very well, but I want him back in his holding room. You can speak to him there."

As Claire followed the group out of the briefing room, she gazed worriedly back at Borden, surprised to see a sad smile on his face. He nodded once to her and then she left.

The Official stared at the closed door for a good few minutes after Darien and Claire had gone, and was only brought out of his temporary stupor by Spellings voice. "Charles, you're welcome to stay overnight, we have plenty of room?"

"Thank you Jonas, but I have urgent business back in San Diego. I believe your jet is on standby to take me?" Borden shivered mentally at the thought of having to stay in this place one moment longer than necessary. And if he had his way, his people wouldn't be here much longer either.


Darien hesitated briefly before entering his room, and Claire saw the reason for this as she followed in slowly behind him. Stark and clinically white, its only furniture being a bed, a metal table and chair which had been bolted into place, and the metal toilet and wash basin in the far corner. Two cameras high up well out of his reach on the wall, their red recording lights blinking continuously. He was a prisoner in every sense of the word, and probably with less privacy than he would have had in the State lock up.

She saw him tense as the steel and armored glass door hissed shut and locked automatically behind them.

"Well," he sighed gazing about his new 'home' almost apologetically, "this is about as bad as it gets!"

Smiling Claire leaned into him, his hand finding hers again and squeezing it softly.

"Do you like what I've done with the place?" The question was flippant, and Claire could tell he was desperately trying to keep up the act of bravado for her benefit. "Too bad they forgot to include windows, uh Keepie?" A shadow of a grin touched the corner of his handsome face as he sat down on the edge of the bed with Claire at his side.

"Sweetheart, I don't know what you want me to say."

Darien turned to her and she saw an intense sadness in those beautiful dark brown eyes, and at that moment she thought her heart might break. "You've told me stories about these dudes Claire, I know what they do and what they're gonna try to make me do, so you don't have to say anything."

She pushed a stray lock of hair off his face, and then kept her hand there. He seemed to welcome her touch. "I'll be here with you Darien, at least until you settle in."

That made him smile, though the humor didn't quite reach his eyes. "Settle in huh? Maybe you could bring a few things next time you drop by, oh say some soft lighting, a few rugs, make it nice and homely."

"Darien," it's just a matter of time before The Official finds a way to get you back home. I'm sure he's…."

He stood up now and moved to the far side of the room, standing just underneath one of the cameras, the other one above the door immediately panning in his direction.

Darien looked at his Keeper and Claire saw the utter desolation in his eyes. "Don't you get it Claire?" He was angry, but not really with her. "I'm screwed. Charlie's sold me to his DoD buddies. Hell, this was probably the plan all along. A couple of years in the field with Hobbes to show me which way round to hold a gun, let you fix the little QSM problem with the gland, and then bam I'm playin' with the big boys. He's probably already got the next poor schmuck lined up take my place, and then the whole thing starts over."

"I just don't believe that….he wouldn't, he couldn't. Could he?"

cThe cameras followed his every move as he paced around the room, but Claire knew he was oblivious to them at that moment. "Would, could and probably did," Darien stated flatly, returning to sit beside her on the bed and affectionately play punching her shoulder.

"So, what happens now?"

Claire hesitated for the briefest moment and then decided that she needed to be honest with him now. Trust always had to work both ways. "They want to run some tests…" she began hesitantly.

"Ah, the ole tests! If my memory serves, doesn't that usually involve really big pointy needles? Nuh, uh!" He shook his head emphatically.

"Darien, listen to me this is serious. You really do need to co-operate at least for the time being, until we can find a way out of this place. If you don't then Spelling will just have you drugged and they'll do their tests anyway. I…I don't know how long I can protect you."

He was about to tell her, for the benefit of everyone he knew was analyzing their every word from the monitor room close by, that Spelling and the DoD could all go to hell and back for all he cared. But then he caught the quiet fear for him in her eyes and the tiny tear drop that trickled down her face, which she tried to reach quickly with the back of a shaky hand. But he got there first wiping it away gently with his thumb, keeping his hand on her face stroking gently, she closed her eyes as his warmth and strength seemed to penetrated her very soul.

After a long quiet moment he took his hand away and then looked up at her, resignation in those dark brown eyes. "Well I guess it won't hurt to let them see what they've got for their money!"

TBC