Chapter 6

By early afternoon the worst of the days tests were over, and Darien lay back on the exam chair idly leafing through a dog eared magazine for about the zillionth time, while Claire intently studied another sample under her microscope, humming contentedly to herself in her own little version of scienteez heaven.

When his cell phone buzzed Darien eagerly reached into his jacket pocket to grab it, keen for a conversation with just about anyone that didn't focus on one or other of his bodily functions. Smiling broadly when he flipped it open and saw the name of the caller.

"Hey Frankie."

Claire glanced up for a moment, before turning away again to give him what privacy she could, wondering at the last time she'd actually seen him so visibly smitten. Kate Easton maybe, but definitely not to this extent; Allianora, well that had just been outright lust at first sight. She'd never met Casey O'Claire, but from what Bobby had told her of the woman she had none of the natural warmth or beauty of the one they'd met briefly a few nights before in the bar.

And then Darien was calling across to her. "Keepie, are we done here?"

Claire considered it for a moment and then nodded. "But don't forget that The Official wants to see you," she reminded him with a sympathetic smile.

He mumbled something into the cell and then snapped it shut. A moment later he was up and out of the chair and walking towards his Keeper, with that charming boyish smile in place and the calculating soulful stare he always gave her when he wanted a favor.

"Uh…Claire. Can we put off the rest of the tests, just for a couple of days?" he asked hesitantly. "My friend…Frankie…ya know from the bar? Well she's gonna be leaving , and I'd sort of like to spend some time with her."

Claire smiled warmly at her Kept, deciding that he deserved a little leeway. He'd been through so much recently after all. "Why not. Besides it'll do you the world of good to have someone to look at who's prettier than Bobby. She seemed really nice by the way."

He snorted in amusement. "Glad you feel that way. Bobby seems to think she's out to poison me or something."

The loud crash of metal on stone startled them both, and Darien and Claire turned as one to the far corner of the Keep where Wesley Carter mouthed a 'sorry' as he knelt down to retrieve the metal surgical tray he'd just dropped, along with the items now strewn across the floor.

"But I want you to come straight back if you start to feel unwell," Claire continued.

Darien nodded.

"And I'll expect you to report here bright and early on Wednesday to finish these tests, and 'bright and early' means before noon to most normal people."

He nodded again as he backed towards the door slowly at first, then speeding up before she had a chance to change her mind. "Scouts honor."

Claire spun on her heels just about to call after Darien and remind him not to forget to take his vitamin supplements, but by then the door of the Keep had slid shut behind him and he was gone. Smiling and shaking her head indulgently she turned just as the lab phone started to ring.. Carter picked up and listened intently, nodding before replacing the receiver..

"Claire. The Official would like to see you in his office."

"Let me get this straight." Borden removed his glasses and began wearily massaging the bridge of his nose. "Fawkes is involved with someone called Frank?" He raised an eyebrow accusingly in Claire's direction "Have you been monitoring his hormone levels properly?"

Claire put a hand to her mouth to suppress a bout of giggles, his scowl of disapproval only making it worse as far as she was concerned.

"No Chief. I mean yeah…Fawkesy is seeing someone called Frankie, but she's a she…not a he." Bobby stammered, a glint of amusement in his dark brown eyes also.

Darien was going to kill him. Hobbes had meant to keep his word and not process Frankie's security check for a day or so, but a bit of free time on his hands while his partner was tied up with his Keeper and curiosity had just got the better of him. Then all of a sudden The Official had gotten wind of it and he'd been summoned here with Claire to explain.

Eberts was sat by the side of the boss man's desk, frantically tapping the keyboard of a laptop computer and looking decidedly sheepish. Bobby was willing to bet that the little weasel had something to do with this. In all probability he'd been monitoring their computer access again and some sort of alert had gone out the minute Hobbes had called up Darien's highly-classified security file. So, every chance he got he glowered across at the young assistant, vowing to get even at some point.

"That's out of the question," the Fat Man stated gruffly. "He's perfectly aware that any personal…uh…'relations' he has with a civilian could compromise the Project."

"And that's bloody ridiculous." Claire couldn't help but leap to her friend's defense. "He's a young man and he needs a release for his….tensions once in awhile. If you don't believe Darien deserves a life outside of all this, then we might as well go the whole hog and castrate him."

"What he deserves and what he gets are two separate matters," he snapped back at her churlishly. "And you'll have to find some other way to ease his 'tensions'. I can't have my 17 million dollar Invisible Man tomcatting all over town."

Claire released a loud exasperated breath that earned her a narrowing of eyes from Borden.

"Chief, couldn't we cut him some slack." Bobby decided that as the Fish looked thoroughly pissed off anyway he had nothing to lose by voicing his own opinion, at the very least he was willing to take some of the heat off Claire. "The kid's had a tough time lately with the whole DoD thing and then finding out the gland's a permanent fixture."

"And we're not just talking about a release of sexual tension either," Claire cut in. "For his own well being he should be allowed to form an emotional attachment outside of the Agency. We're playing with a delicate psyche here."

Borden stared at both of them for a long time and then suddenly to their surprise, he relaxed back in his chair and actually seemed to be mulling over their comments. "Beyond the obvious complications of letting him…fraternize…with a civilian, don't we still have his physical problems to contend with? The premature…" his words trailed away and he fidgeted uncomfortably.

"Well technically, premature… invisibility…shouldn't be a problem for Darien any more, as long as he uses one of the relaxation techniques that we've perfected together to inhibit the Quicksilver flow," Claire advised brightly.

Bobby looked mortified. "When you say…perfected together…I hope you don't mean what I think you mean Keepie?"

Claire studied him blankly, then suddenly realized what he was implying and burst out laughing. "Bobby, I'm his doctor for heavens sake!"

He wasn't altogether sure he liked the way her cheeks flushed slightly though.

"We've been studying forms of meditation and exercise based on Hindu Neo-tantric principles. He's gotten very good," she stated proudly.

Bobby's brow was currently creased into an unhappy frown. Something about the word 'tantric' had his paranoia working overtime.

Borden stared from Claire to Bobby and then back again, his decision made. "Okay people. I want the young lady in question checked out thoroughly, is that clear? If the report come back clean then I might consider it. But Fawkes needs to be aware that this Project has to remain classified - his safety is paramount."

They both nodded numbly, hardly believing that Borden was willing to backtrack on his previously hard-line stance over the issue of Darien being allowed a reasonably normal private life.

"Uh…um…Sir." Eberts interrupted. He'd stopped typing and was staring at the laptop screen nervously. "I…er…think we may have a slight problem."

"Well speak up Eberts, we don't have all day,." he barked but with none of his usual bluster.

"My search for information on a Francesca Cassidy, following on from Robert's own attempts, had drawn a blank. So I programmed the computer to scan through the names and profiles of all of Darien's known associates…past and present…and it's come up with this match."

He flipped the laptop around so that they could all view the screen, and there on an FBI 'Most Wanted' Page was a picture of one Francesca Marie Casati.

Wanted for Unlawful Flight to Avoid Confinement and as a Potential Witness to Murder.

D.O.B. March 7th, 1973. Place of Birth: San Diego, Ca. Height; 5'9" Weight: n/a. Build: Slim. Scars and Marks: None. Hair: Dark Brown. Eyes: Green: Complexion: White. Sex: Female. Nationality: American.

Caution: Francesca Marie Casati is being sought as a potential witness to the 2001 murder of Glenn Robert Coleman, and in connection with embezzlement and corruption charges.

Reward: The FBI is offering a reward of up to $100,000 for information leading directly to the location and apprehension of Francesca Marie Casati.

November 2001

Bobby let out a low whistle. "Our boy sure knows how to pick 'em."

Claire just gaped open-mouthed at the screen.

"What was that you said about castration!" The Official hissed mostly for Claire's benefit. "Where is the irresponsible punk now?"

"Well…um… he did mention something about going out…" Claire cowered down in her chair and waited for the expected explosion from her boss, and he didn't disappoint.

"OUT…out where? Haven't you people learned a damned thing . He's supposed to have security with him at all times."

"He did…does, Chief, well most of the time anyway," Bobby started cautiously. "But he's gotten too good for them now - superior field training even if I do say so myself, plus he's got the whole see-through thing going on. He keeps giving them the slip."

The Fat Man's face reddened dramatically until he resembled a volcano that was about to go Pyroclasmic. "Does anyone around here actually follow my direct orders?" Hobbes, Claire and Eberts all exchanged quick curious sideways glances, while. Borden continued to fume. "I want him back here in my office within the hour do you hear me?"

They all nodded.

"Eberts, put in a call to the FBI, .see if you can get some more Intel on this woman. We need to know exactly what we're dealing with. Hobbes…why are you still standing there….GET OUT THERE AND FIND FAWKES NOW."

'You've heard of the Untouchables? Well that term could have been invented for this guy."

Casati leaned back in his chair, shifting his gaze momentarily to the panoramic view of the ocean from his terrace, but not really taking the time to truly appreciate the sheer beauty because he was thoroughly pissed off. As far as he was concerned, there were no such words as 'no' or 'can't be done' in his universe, particularly when they came from the mouth of a dirty Fed on his payroll.

"That's impossible. Darien Fawkes should have a rap sheet a mile long. Now all of a sudden you're telling me you can't dig up anything on him," he asked, doing his best to keep his temper from flaring out of control.

There was a pause, and then, "Well, it looks like he's got some sort of high-level protection now. It's almost as if the Darien Fawkes you knew ceased to exist after August 2000. That's when he went to work for the Agency."

Casati's rising frustration was fuelled by the thought that this idiot would never get to the point. "So what the hell is The Agency?"

"Well, from what little I could find out, it's currently being funded by the Department of Fish and Game. And your boy Fawkes is well… classified."

There was a rustling of paper from the other end as the man scanned through a file.

"Yep, he's taken a giant leap from ex-con to top-secret government agent.. I could only bring up pretty basic Intel on him from our database without setting off some major security alerts. I've never seen anything like it. "Seem to remember that a mutual friend of ours…Johnny Books…had a run in with a Federal Agent named Fawkes about a year ago. Too much of a coincidence for it not to be the same guy."

Casati was smiling grimly now and it wasn't a pretty sight.. "So the two bit punk's a Fed, huh?"

"I've got something else that might interest you," the voice offered with a hint of eagerness.

"Well go on," Casati hissed impatiently.

"Your sister's file was sent to F&G this morning to a… Charles Borden. From what I can gather it has something to do with Francesca and one of his agents, no prize for guessing who though! It looks like someone has been a bad boy."

Suddenly Casati was sitting up ramrod straight in his chair, his entire demeanor changing from the simmering anger of a few moments before, to one of calculating pleasure.

"That's excellent," he stated coldly. "And when I get my hands on little Francesca and Darien Fawkes, I'm going to teach the pair of them a lesson they won't live long enough to regret."

TBC