Chapter 5

Monday morning

"Whoa, Fawkes, slow down there buddy boy."

Already halfway along the dimly lit basement hallway leading to the Keep, Darien stopped and glanced over his shoulder at the sound of his partner's voice, groaning inwardly at the lecture he knew for sure was coming.

"Hey, Hobbesy, wazzup?" he responded much too casually for the older man's liking, standing there with hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans and looking like he hadn't a care in the world.

Hobbes jogged the last few steps to catch up and then laid a hand on his arm, scowling. Boy was he ever pissed.

"Whatdya mean, wazzup? Where the hell have you been all freakin' weekend?

Darien shrugged dismissively and then grinned, careful though to keep his face slightly raised and in profile so that Bobby wouldn't see the bruising. "Sorry mom, guess I forgot that I need to call home every hour on the hour. 'Sides, if you wanted to know exactly where I was for part of it, all you had to do is ask Tweedledum and Tweedledee."

"Yeah, and while we're on the subject - you keep pulling the ole disappearing routine on your protection team, and before too long buddy boy the Fish is gonna have you chained to 'em. He's seriously pissed that you've been incommunicado for the last 48 hours as it is.."

"Give me a freakin' break. It was the weekend Hobbes. Ya know, free time, no work, lots of play," " he snapped back bitterly.. Deciding there and then that he'd had enough lecturing for one day, Darien feigned a move to his left then quickly dodged the other way in an attempt to get around his partner, but Hobbes had already anticipated the move and side-stepped to effectively block his path. Even with his obvious height advantage, Darien knew better than to try to force his way past his smaller, stockier friend, so settled for a long-suffering sigh instead and to make a further point smacked the wall in frustration.

Despite his partner's show of petulance Hobbes was a long way from finished, standing his ground with hands on hips and one eyebrow arched suspiciously. "What sort of play?" he persisted . "For you buddy boy, all 'play' needs to be authorized. You know the Fat Man will hang you by the family jewels if you've done the dirty deed with that little honey from the bar… whatsername?"

"Francesca…Cassidy," Darien offered helpfully. "And…oh yeah… while we're on the subject…mind you own business. Even I'm entitled to at least one…date… per century."

"As long as that's all it was…a date? I did some checking last night, and the bar owner told me little Frankie didn't show for any of her shifts over the weekend. Now what do you suppose happened to her? "

Making no effort at all to mask his rising irritation now, Darien's second attempt to get past his partner met with more success - though mainly because Hobbes didn't make much of an effort to stop him this time. He was already regretting his heavy handed tactics, realizing that he may have pushed that little bit too far, as always.

Tempers and relationships had been stretched to breaking point recently as it was, and it didn't help any that the Fat Man kept making veiled threats to Bobby about the future of his partnership with Fawkes, even hinting that tougher measures were being considered to rein in their valuable 'receptacle' if Hobbes couldn't curb his persistently defiant behavior. Knowing that the younger man would seriously freak if he even had a hint of these plans, Bobby had actually been the one to suggest the night out at the bar on Friday to try and alleviate some of the mounting tension - and it had worked too. They'd all had a really good night and Fawkesy had even met up with his old girlfriend.

Now that he'd gotten past Hobbes, instead of continuing on his way towards the metal door of the Keep Darien turned back to his friend, glancing down at his feet before hesitantly meeting the older man's gaze. He'd already dropped the 'attitude'.

"Hey, listen Bobby. Frankie won't be around for that long,. she's only here now 'cause her mom's real sick.. I mean, does ole Charlie even have to know about her, huh? By the time you run a check and get the results she'll probably be long gone."

"I dunno Fawkes," Hobbes shook his head uncertainly.. "You know how paranoid everyone's been lately. It's my ass on the line if anything happens to you."

Darien gave Hobbes a little play punch to the shoulder. "Aw c'mon partner, nothing's gonna happen to me. She's an old friend. Man, it's just nice to have someone to talk to who knew me before…this." His hand gestured loosely to the back of his head.

"Fawkes tell me you didn't…." Hobbes looked horrified that his partner may have disclosed top secret gland information to a….civilian!

"Of course not, give me some credit for God sake," came the terse response. Then steadying his tone - he needed Bobby on his side. "It's great that she doesn't know about… ya know? I'm just plain ole Darien to her, not some big invisible freak."

Hobbes visibly relaxed and nodded sympathetically, then smiled slightly at the relieved expression on the younger man's face.

"I'm not promising anything okay? I'll have to run a routine check on her but maybe it doesn't have to go anywhere near the Fish's desk…unless I find out she's a deranged serial killer or somethin'."

A grinning Darien low-fived his partner. "I won't forget this. I owe you, buddy."

"Yeah, yeah," the older man said good-naturedly. "For this and all the other times I covered your sorry ass Inviso-Boy."

Just then the door to the Keep swooshed open and Claire appeared, staring meaningfully at her watch, a booted foot tapping impatiently.

Darien sauntered towards her, raising his hand in a goodbye salute "Gotta go Hobbesy, can't keep Her Royal Testiness waiting any longer."

"Ow…ow…ow…OW! For crying out loud that really hurts." Darien shifted irritably on the exam chair, trying to prize his arm out of his Keeper's vice-like grip. "Are you gonna leave any in there for me!"

She tutted and gave him a reprimanding scowl, before carefully withdrawing the syringe from the bulging vein on Darien's left forearm and transferring his blood sample into a glass test tube, which she then handed across to Dr. Wesley Carter, the newest addition to the I-Man medical team The tall, reed thin man stood the other side of the chair, manning the rolling surgical trolley and assisting with Darien's current torture session.

Claire wasn't happy with her Kept this morning, and the fact that he was being deliberately vague about the cut and bruising above his eye only added to her growing irritation.

"Don't be such a cry baby," she scolded in her best British school ma'am accent as she pressed a cotton ball a little too firmly to the puncture wound, eliciting another hiss and a scowl from Darien.

Before Friday night in the bar Claire hadn't even set eyes on him in over two weeks. She'd been in Washington with Charles Borden, giving a detailed debriefing to a covert Presidential committee in the wake of the DoD's abortive attempt to rest control of the I-man Project from The Agency. In her absence, Darien's day to day care had been left in the more than capable hands of Dr. Carter, but she'd been itching to get back to San Diego so that she could get Darien into the Lab for a thorough examination, particularly as recent tests had shown some strange anomalies in his bloodstream.

But, as usual he was being far from co-operative.

"It's for your own good Darien, as I keep trying to tell you," she continued, sharing an exasperated glance with her medical colleague who smiled sympathetically back at her. "We need to keep a check on your health, and I can't do that if you won't let me take some little samples of blood."

"Little, hah!" Darien retorted acidly, staring for emphasis at the line of tubes racked up beside him, all containing measures of his most vital bodily fluid. "Buffy the Vampire's got nothing on you sister."

"For your information, Buffy is a slayer not a vampire," Carter corrected helpfully, earning himself vacant stares from both Darien and Claire.

Focusing her attention back to her Kept, Claire pushed a lock of long golden blonde hair from her face and continued to glare. " I can't believe that a grown man can make such a fuss over some teeny, tiny needles."

"It's not the 'teeny, tiny needles' I object to," he responded, doing his best imitation of her clipped British accent. "It's the teeny tiny holes they keep leaving all over my body."

Claire tutted again as she collected the rack of test tubes and disappeared around the glass divider, and Darien could hear her moving about on the other side of the lab. When Carter backed off as well Darien took this to mean that this current bout of blood taking was at an end, so decided to make a break for it. Quickly grabbing his discarded shirt and tugging it on over his head he bolted for the door, muttering churlishly, "Enough already. I'm done with being a human pin cushion for today."

And he nearly made it too, was just a couple of strides away from the metal door of the Keep when it slid open literally as his hand was hovering over the keypad, .his one and only escape route suddenly blocked by a large and imposing mass. Darien stopped dead in his tracks, swallowing hard.

Busted.

"And just where do you think you're going in such a rush?" The Official demanded gruffly. "Is there an emergency somewhere that I'm unaware of, some place else you need to be that's more important than right here?"

"Uh, well, now that you mention it…"

"Darien is being a pain in the bum as usual sir," Claire interrupted tartly from somewhere behind him.

"Don't push your luck kid." The Fat Man's tone demanded attention and Darien did his best to look suitably repentant.. "Your protection team have briefed me on your antics at the weekend, so unless you want a spell in confinement you will do exactly what your Keeper tells you to do. And after she's finished, I want you in my office and I expect a full account of your whereabouts for the past 2 days. Am I making myself clear?"

Darien considered this for a long moment, weighing his options and whether he could get away with some blatant insubordination, or maybe he could even trigger the Quicksilver and squeeze himself past the huge bulk still jammed in the doorway. Instead he settled for shuffling his feet and mumbling something inaudible..

"What was that Agent Fawkes?" Borden demanded.

"Yes sir, perfectly clear,." he responded grudgingly. Knowing The Official well enough now to realize that he wouldn't hesitate to carry out the threat, by force if necessary. It took real effort though to stop from reacting to the look of smug satisfaction on Claire's face as he dragged himself back sulkily to the exam chair, dropping down with a heavy dramatic sigh.

The Official shot Darien another warning glare for good measure, before turning his full attention to Claire.

"Doctor, how much longer is Fawkes going to be needed down here? You also promised me an update on his current health status. "

"Well sir, I still have a number of tests to run." To add weight to this comment she glanced accusingly in Darien's direction, but he looked completely disinterested. "But I think we should consider taking him off active duty for a few days for some sustained monitoring."

"What!" Both Darien and Borden echoed at the same time. Darien was back on his feet now, advancing towards his Keeper.

"Aw, c'mon Keepie, don't do this to me," he whined desperately.

"Darien, as your doctor I have a duty to put your health above all other considerations."

Her tone had softened considerably, knowing how much he hated confinement of any sort.

"But I'm fine," he persisted, looking to his Keeper and even to Carter for some kind of support.

"How have you been feeling, generally?" Claire asked, suddenly deciding that now was as good as time as any to shine a small pen light into his eyes..

Darien ran a hand over his neck and then blatantly lied. "Uh, super…no problems."

"Hmmm, well I'm still concerned about the results from your last batch of blood work," she responded absently, tipping his head back so that she could inspect the pupil of the other eye now.

"Then your Keeper's word is final," Borden advised grudgingly. "Believe me Fawkes, no one wants you out in the field more than I do. Each day you're out of action will end up costing this agency thousands of dollars of taxpayers money. Doctor, I expect a full report on my desk ASAP."

"You're all heart Charlie," Darien muttered sarcastically, and was rewarded with a parting chuckle from the Fat Man as he turned and left the Keep, the door hissing shut behind him.

Sitting back down now, defeated, Darien ran a hand across his face. Peaking out warily from between his fingers a second or two later as he heard the familiar snap of rubber surgical gloves. With a look of eager anticipation, Claire held up a length of rubber hosing attached to a large funnel.

"Okay Gland Boy, strip."

"Aw crap."

Dominic Casati sensed that something was wrong the minute he walked into his study. At first glance nothing seemed out of the ordinary or out of place, it was just his gut instinct. No one would usually dare come in here without his approval, not even Summer, and God help the hapless maid who didn't put everything back just so after the study had been cleaned.

He stared around him trying to pin down exactly what was wrong and that was when he noticed it. His wooden cigar box usually dead center on the desk, was now perched perilously close to the edge as if it had been placed there by someone in a hurry. Even worse, his finest imported Cuban cigars stored meticulously inside, looked as if they had been through a grinder. He muttered a bitter curse.

Just as he was about to reach for the intercom on his desk to bawl out anyone who had the misfortune to be on the other end, he noticed that the picture of him and his mother had also been moved and on closer inspection he could see that the back of the frame had been opened..

Casati's naturally suspicious nature was piqued now and he spun his chair a full circle to gaze around the room, stopping as his eyes fixed on a point in the top right hand corner, where a piece of shapeless modern sculpture hung high up on the wall. Personally he detested it, but it was a perfect cover for the security camera hidden within its hollow interior.

With the means to track down the culprit at his disposal, a sadistic grin of anticipation spreading across his face as he pressed down on the intercom, barking an order for his head of security to report to him immediately.

"That's it. Stop there…and zoom in so we can get a good look at the sonofabitch."

Casati stared at the monitor again, hardly believing what…or who he was seeing. It had been a very long time, but the tall trespasser on screen was unmistakable. Never forgetting a face or a name is what had kept him ahead of the game for so long.

"Clever girl, Francesca," Casati stated with the hint of a smile touching his handsome features. He'd always known that she'd made copies of his personal files as some form of protection, if it hadn't been for this added piece of betrayal he might very well have called off the hunt for her months ago.. But for all this time, he'd assumed she either had them with her or they were locked away somewhere. Never in a million years did he consider that Frankie had hidden them right under his nose, in the very last place he would look.

He also silently applauded her ingenuity in recruiting her cat burglar ex-boyfriend to come and retrieve them for her. But then from what he could remember, Darien Fawkes wouldn't have taken much convincing where Francesca was concerned.

He studied Darien's freeze framed image for another minute or two before snatching up his cell phone and pressing speed dial, snapping an order at the voice on the other end as soon as they had picked up.

"Get me everything you can on Darien Fawkes…that's F.A.W.K.E.S."

TBC