Author's Notes: Finally, Chapter 3. I've overcome horrendous writer's block and exams to finally get this up. I hope everyone enjoys it, and reviews it :) Reviews motivate me.

To Rose, for being wonderfully patient :D Hope college is rocking!

Lydecker was missing.

That was the information I was presented with the next day. Not instantly, of course, because Zack hates telling me anything relating to my physical safety and that man. Manticore is still a tense subject between us; any of us. Possibly the most well adjusted is Max. Which is really, really ironic. But it was Logan that informed me that my own personal anti-Christ had vanished off the Eyes Only radar.

So, anyway, I spent the morning in bed eating doughnuts and reading the paper; ignorant bliss. I like this not-having-a-job. It was like eleven when I got out of bed. Lazy week days rock.

I was in the kitchen, attempting to make pancakes and listening to the radio when the phone rang.

"Hello... shit...?" I said, as I dropped a carton of eggs onto my foot. "Damnit."

"Hey Jon. Having fun? I thought Zack had to work today," Logan said, as I balanced the phone on my shoulder.

"Hey Logan. I'm having the most fun ever. And yes, Zack had to work. You don't need a man to have fun," I said, kneeling down to pick up the egg shells. "Wait. That came out wrong."

Logan laughed. "I called because I thought you might be lonely on your own. Max insists on helping Syl and Brin out at the gallery."

"I can just imagine how dangerous the gallery would be with Max there," I made a face, even though I knew Logan couldn't see me, and began scraping the raw egg off the kitchen floor and into the bin. "Is she as bad as she was when she was pregnant with Evie?"

"Worse," Logan replied. "But I thought you could come round and I could catch you up on everything that has been happening. Maybe make you lunch?"

I dropped the spoon I was using to scrape the raw egg and up sat back, leaning against the cupboards. "Give me thirty minutes to take a shower and I'll be there. Lunch sounds great."

"Pasta or egg salad?" Logan said. "Your choice."

I looked at the gooey raw egg on the floor next to me. "Pasta sounds great."

"Great. See you in half an hour."

Perfect. Thirty minutes to finish cleaning up the kitchen, shower and get to Logan's. I reached for a cloth off the kitchen bench and began to mop up the last of the raw egg. Ugh.

- - -

"That was great, Logan," I said, taking a final bite of the cake he had made. "It rocks not to have to eat take out. I swear I'm like a fast food connoisseur."

"Didn't Tinga teach you and Zack to cook?" Logan said, stacking the plates.

"Sort of," I shrugged. "Anyway, you told me you'd give me the 411 on what I missed. Share the wealth, my brother."

"Well," Logan said, motioning for me to follow him into the lounge room, "let me think."

"Don't think," I said warningly, flopping down in a chair. "Thinking equals censoring and I don't want censoring; I want all the nitty gritty details."

"Brin and Alec have started a somewhat functional relationship," Logan replied. "Krit swears on Ben's grave that he walked in one night to find Brin..."

My eyes widened as Logan paused. "Oh my god. Brinny ... what did she do?!" Thousands of lurid mental images filled my mind. Whoa. That was more me than Brin. Brin was not into kinky. But I guess Alec managed to change her into a wild girl.

"She was cooking him dinner," Logan finished. "Like an old married couple."

My mouth fell open in shock and I threw a couch cushion at Logan. "I thought she was ... Alec and her were...!"

"I know," Logan smirked. "Zack's right, you are easy... to joke around with, I mean."

I raised my eyebrows. "I hope so. Otherwise I'm worried about what you and Zack talk about."

"We don't," Logan said simply. "The only times Zack and I talk is when he's doing EO jobs for me."

I gave Logan a look. "You two should talk. You have a lot in common," I said softly. "Maxie and I care about you both."

Logan nodded and got up, walking over to his computer. "You're preaching to the converted. Old habits are hard to break. Three years of hating Zack..."

"I get it," I shrugged. "Things aren't exactly always peachy between Krit and I. You just deal and move on. I care about Krit but we don't talk enough to say we talk."

Logan sat at his computer, swivelling his chair to face me. "You've got complicated relationships, Jondy. Why don't you and Krit talk?"

"The others have it pegged as sibling rivalry; same age and stuff. I don't know," I shrugged. "Anyway, how's Evie? And what's up with Rain?"

"Evie's great," Logan grinned like the proud dad he was. "She's just started singing lessons; a birthday present. As for Rain, I think the fact she's going to college and she's no longer a little kid tagging along with Zane has finally hit her."

I nodded. "She didn't seem her usual, happy self. I just had it pegged for boyfriend troubles, maybe."

"After she starts college, maybe she'll settle down," Logan shrugged. "And I've just thought of something I should tell you, because I bet Zack won't tell you."

"Share the wealth. Ooh, is it a Gucci sale? Zack would never tell me that. He doesn't think I need anymore clothes," I leant forward, eagerly.

"Sorry to spoil your fun, Jondy, but it's nothing like that," Logan turned to his computer. "Remember how we knew where Lydecker was all summer?"

"I vaguely remember Alec mentioning that he was making Lydecker jump through hoops," I said. "Ooh, are we upgrading to flaming hoops? Jump, Deck, jump!"

"Not quite. He's vanished," Logan handed me a piece of paper; a print out of all of Lydecker's phone calls. "The last twenty calls made on his cell phone. Seven of them were in America. Six of them were made to Germany and the final seven were made to Russia. But I can't find out exactly where the phone calls were made to. Scrambled signals."

"Bugger," I said, looking over the list. "So, are you going to keep an eye on this?"

"I'm going to try. Anyway, I thought you could have a look around on the internet," Logan said. "It's not that I don't trust Lydecker..."

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer," I quoted, skimming down the list of phone numbers. "I don't recognize any of them, but yeah I'll check them out for you."

"Great," Logan smiled at me. "Having another great Manticore mind on the case might bring something up. The odds are that he's just gone into hiding again, but just to be on the safe side..."

I shrugged. "Maybe it's because he severed my spine when I was six, but when Lydecker isn't checking in with us, I start to think he'd using his powers for evil again."

"Thanks for that wonderful mental image, Jondy," Logan looked away. "And you might not want to mention that I told you about Lydecker to Zack. He didn't want you involved., but... Jondy, I have a bad feeling. I don't think its fair not to tell you what the others know in case this nothing turns into something."

I nodded, folding the piece of paper and slipping it into my back pocket. "I'll worry about Zack. I get where you're both coming from. And this way, I get to go gun shopping."

Logan started to laugh. "Always rely on an X5 girl to put a positive spin on things. Oh! And, also, this is something I want to ask you rather than Zack. It's not really Zack's thing," Logan said, flipping through the papers on his desk, obviously looking for something.

"Oh?" I stood up and looked over his shoulder. "Logan, I don't really want to be running missions for EO. It's nothing personal., it's just that that's Max's thing and Zack's thing." And Zack's kinda territorial. Syl borrowed his bike while I was in L.A, and he bitched about it for weeks.

"No," Logan shook his head and found what he was looking for. "My Aunt Margot holds this charity ball every year. It's $250 a ticket – half of which is donated to a worthwhile charity and the rest which my Aunt Margot keeps. Anyway, Aunt Margot invited us all and I wanted to know if you and Zack wanted to come. Max and I are going, so are Syl and Krit. Tinga's talking Zane around slowly."

I bit my lip. "Zack hates getting dressed up. And he hates dances and dinner and large groups of people. But I think it sounds like fun. Count us in," I said.

"Great," Logan said, holding out two multi-coloured tickets. "Eight o clock. I can't remember the date, but I know it's on the invitation."

I looked at the invitations. "Excellent. I better get going. I've got a pile of laundry I have to do before Zack gets home. And a credit card bill to destroy."

"I'll talk to you later," Logan replied. "Email me if you find anything about Lydecker's location. I want to know what he ate for breakfast last Tuesday. Something's up."

I pulled my jacket on. "It would be. Max is about to have a baby and Rain's in the middle of a teenage angst crisis. Not exactly the best time for a war on good old Deckers."

Logan gave me a funny look.

"Just pretend I didn't say that."

"Gotcha."

So the trace-Lydecker plan didn't really go to plan. I sat down with my laptop, in front of some talk show on TV, and seriously planned to track him down. But the talk show was on long term relationships and how you should spice things up for your partner.

I am such a pathetic hormone-driven piece of trash. I made my plan – skimpy red dress Zack had seen me in – and out of - when I was a teenager, smoky eye make up and an exceptionally fun afternoon. Of course, the credit card bill still existed, the laundry was still dirty and Zack would be home in about an hour...

And, almost precisely an hour later, I heard the front door slam. Looking in the mirror, I groaned, before continuing the seemingly impossible task at hand.

"Jon, you home?" Zack called out.

"Ye-es! Just a second!" I called out, waving my mascara wand around. "Ow. Ow." I said, poking myself in the eye. Ugh. This had not gone to plan. The plan was to greet Zack looking like a beautiful, sexy, adoring girlfriend and have mind blowing sex all afternoon and just having some us time. Okay, so I'm feeling like I need some bonding time with Zack. I so do not need to justify having sex.

So, I did my laundry and shrunk my brand new t shirt. Then I squeezed into the little red number and ended up looking like a 1980s hooker.

Now I was wearing a tiny black skirt I couldn't bend over in, a push up bra and black heels. I couldn't find my see through shirt to go over my bra, my hair looked like a dead rat and my make up did not look good.

"This sucks," I said, throwing down the mascara wand. "I should be good at this damnit."

"Good at what?" Zack appeared behind me, his hands balancing on my hips.

"Good at the whole make up thing," I said, pouting. "I'm trying to..."

"That's what I'm trying to work out," Zack said, spinning me around. "You don't need to do this, Jon. You don't need it."

"Thanks," I said, nuzzling his cheek. "But I just wanted to try and make it nice for you."

Zack took at step backwards and evaluated my attire. "Lose the skirt and you've got it right," he said, almost teasing me. I punched him playfully on the arm.

"Shut up," I said. "You're a big meanie."

Zack stroked my cheek and leant down to kiss me, pulling me closer, my arms winding around his neck. We stood there for the longest time, just kissing like the old days, before things were complicated with sex and stuff. You know, for a minute, I almost felt like that teenage girl he first hooked up with in Chicago.

I pulled back gently, biting my lip. "Hey Zack," I said, as he started to unzip my skirt. Thank god, I think my legs were losing circulation. As he began to kiss his way down my neck, I knew it was time to make my move.

"Mmm?"

"What would you say if I said we were going to some ball Logan's aunt is giving."

"You have to be joking."

"Wow, Zane's right, you really do sound like an old woman when you say that," I said teasingly.

"J-on," Zack whined. I know. Zack and whined in the same sentence. But seriously, Zack is the only guy in the world who can turn my shortened name into two syllables. It's a talent. He calls me Jon when he wants something and Dee when he's feeling particularly vulnerable or particularly romantic. Or particularly horny. Whichever comes first.

"We'll have fun," I said, kicking the skirt from around my ankles and walking into the bedroom, sitting on the bed. "Free champagne, free dinner, dancing. Me in a revealing yet stylishly sexy dress. Sex afterwards. And it's for charity..." I pouted at Zack. "Sex for charity. A win-win situation."

Zack sighed, unbuttoning his shirt. "Go shower. I'll think about it." He turned around and left the bedroom.

"Hey!" I yelled. "I wasn't going to have a shower!"

Zack returned, a tiny smile playing around his mouth. "You need to wash all that make up off and wash your hair. Then we'll discuss the ball dance thing."

"Sometimes, you're an ass," I said, pouting some more. When my statement was met with silence (which I'm absolutely positive was agreement), I got up and had the stupid shower. Zack is so evil. The fact he came and joined me in the shower after I washed my hair does not make him any less evil.

"So," I said, sitting on the edge of the bath, wrapped in a towel, watching Zack shave, "take me to the ball? Cause I'm sure Normal would be a willing escort if you don't want to..."

"I'll take you, Jondy," Zack said, looking at me through the mirror.

I beamed. "Good. Now, I'm going shopping."

Zack put down his razor. "Why, exactly?"

"Because I need ..." I faltered. "Um..."

"Why don't you get a job?" Zack said. "Give you an aim each day."

I nodded slowly. "Probably an idea. But do you really want me to get a job at the hospital? I mean, yeah, okay money. But every time we're in bed – together..."

"One would hope so," Zack said dryly.

"Well, my pager would go off just as you... it would create sexual tension between us," I said. "Maybe I could just go and work off some of Brin and Syl's debt down at Jam Pony."

"Brin and Syl owe Normal seven years of unpaid full time work – each - for the money they owe," Zack said, turning around to face me. "Why don't you go and get an actual job for Normal?"

"Because working off my sisters' debt is more soul satisfying?" I asked angelically.

"Meaning you won't feel the need to justify every sick day you take, as you're not really working for Normal."

"You know me too well," I said, getting up and trying to loosen the towel that was around his waist. It wasn't hanging nearly low enough for my tastes.

Zack caught my hands. "I need to get some work done, Dee."

I smiled, a genuine smile, at him. "Dee, huh?"

"Huh?"

"I love you," I said, kissing him gently. His hands ran through my wet hair as he kissed me back. He pulled away gently and looked into my eyes.

"It's for good this time," he said softly, threading his fingers through mine. I nodded slowly.

"For good."

It's always good when your boyfriend throws caution to the wind to have sex on the bathroom floor. While any sex, any time is good and no one can convince me otherwise, the bathroom floor is not the best location; it's cold, wet and my hair kept getting caught on the drain.

I know I can be really flippant about Zack and our relationship and sex but really, I think this time it was our real, deep feelings. He didn't take his eyes off me once.

"I love you, Jondy," Zack lay on his side, next to me on the bathroom floor, one leg between mine and his hands playing with my hair.

"I love you too," I said, kissing him gently and sitting up. "You need to do some work."

Zack rolled over and sat up, his hand on my shoulder. "Do I get a choice?" he asked darkly.

"Nope," I smirked, finding my sweats and tank top stuffed down the towel rail. "I've gotta look something up for Logan."

Zack looked up from where he was pulling his own clothes from behind the laundry basket. "Logan?"

"Mm hmm," I said, pulling my tank top over my head. "Just some phone numbers he wants traced. Nothing major."

Zack handed me my hairbrush as he left the bathroom. "I'll be working on a case in the office if you need me."

"Thanks," I said, pulling my hairbrush through my tangled hair. "What case are you working on?"

Zack gave me a Look. "You know my cases are confidential."

I returned his Look. I read his case files over breakfast some days. And Zack's seen me reading them with my coffee.

"Young woman was found murdered in an alley way. We're trying to prove she was murdered by the sector cops who found her," Zack said, leaning on the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest.

"And those are the people we trust to protect our fair city," I said wryly, twisting my hair up and fastening it with a pin. "Having any luck?"

"The family already had her body cremated, so we're working from photos," Zack said, straightening. "Finish doing your hair, I'll get the file."

I nodded, tossing my hair brush into the bathroom drawer and picked up the wet towels and threw them into the laundry hamper. Great. More laundry for me to shrink.

Zack's office was one of those rooms I absolutely never bothered to go into unless I was trying to... borrow his credit card. Zack kept his entire wallet in the office because he knew I wouldn't go near the room. Unless under extreme circumstances. And yes, a shoe sale is an extreme circumstance.

I didn't break this tradition. Zack's still a guy and I seriously do not want to know what he's got in that room. I'm sure everything's organized; I mean, it is Zack's office, but it sure as hell doesn't look like it.

I opened my laptop, setting it on the kitchen table and plugging it in. I had to look up those phone numbers for Logan. Without Zack working out what I was doing. Hmm.

"Here's the file," Zack said, flipping open the manila folder and pulling out photos of a young woman lying on concrete. I winced. A bullet wound to her upper left chest and bruising around her throat.

"So, doctor, what's the verdict?" Zack asked as I flicked through the photos in the file. They were all of her injuries, how her body lay on the concrete.

"Well," I said, motioning to the bruising on the girl's throat. "She died from asphyxiation - strangulation; that's why the bruising is all whacked out. The bullet wound is too close to her shoulder to have been fatal unless it was a few hours old... but the blood stains are still fresh... so, she was strangled to death."

Zack nodded, looking over the photos. "So, I just need to find evidence that it was the sector cops who strangled her?"

"Yup," I said, shuffling the photos together. "Ask Logan about hovercraft footage, maybe?"

"Yeah, I'll talk to Cale later. What are you working on?" Zack asked, looking at my laptop's screen.

"Nothing special," I said, handing him his folder. "Go, work on your case. I need time to download porn and send death threats."

Zack smacked me on the back of the head and left the kitchen. Okay, so where was Lydecker hiding?

It took me fifteen minutes until I managed to pull up the Russian Institute of Genetic Science and Testing, with a freaky looking unicorn and girl logo. Russian genetics. Why was Lydecker involved with Russian genetics? I tried hacking into the internal server, but the whole site was completely fire walled. Which wasn't exactly promising.

I sat back, staring blankly at the screen. Russian genetics. Had Lydecker gotten himself another job in a totally different country? Give him diplomatic immunity from both sides, really. And he could stop going into hiding for months at a time.

I tapped at my keyboard for a moment, trying to break through the fire wall. And a login box came up. Damnit. I knew these places. They tracked your ISP and location, and found you out if you got the login name or password wrong. And I hated reading the JavaScript code – which is how you worked out the password and login name in the first place.

It wasn't hard, actually. Rudimentary JavaScript isn't. Login name... lydeckdo... password x5452x5599. He is so easy to figure out. Max and Zack always were his favourites. And I was in. A much cooler site if you logged in... I could access network files, download stats and the plans they had...

And they had plans. Big, elaborate plans, not dissimilar to Manticore. These Russians wanted to design the perfect soldier, yes, but they wanted perfect human beings at the same time. Immune to disease, fastest, strongest and smartest...

I bit my lip and took a screenshot of the document before moving on, and running a search through the database for 'Lydecker'... nothing, just a spreadsheet with salaries. I tried again, running a search on 'Manticore'. A few hits, but nothing significant. I leant back in my chair and then typed in, 'X5'.

Three files. I opened them and, honestly, it felt like someone had thrown water over my head. Words jumped out at me from the screen. 'Recapture', 'retrain', 'experiment', and, the one thing that made me feel sick to my stomach, 'X5-599'.

I couldn't make sense of much else in that document. I am not one to get hysterical, but... Zack. He's been back to Manticore too many times in his life; I was not going to lose him to the bad guys again.

I grabbed my cell phone off of the counter and speed-dialled Logan's phone.

"Hey Jon."

"I found him," I said, skipping pleasantries.

"Lydecker?" Logan sounded more alert. "Where is he?"

"Okay, I don't know that. But I know he's been working with a Russian Genetics company, and I think he sold us to them. There's documents on the website that outline the program they plan to put the X5s through once we're recaptured," I said, my voice small. "Zack's the only X5 mentioned."

"Calm down, Jon," Logan said in a soothing tone. "We know now. We can prepare for this. Send me the details you've got, and I'll run them past my contacts, okay?"

"Yeah," I said, still feeling worried. "I'll do it now."

"We'll work through this, Jon."

I hung up, and emailed Logan everything I had tracked down. Hitting the 'send' button, I left the kitchen and slipped into Zack's office, quietly. He was alternately hunched over a file, and tapping at his computer. I walked up behind him and leant down to kiss his cheek. "How's it going?"

"Fine," he gave me a look, pushed his chair back and pulled me into his lap. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head. "Nothing important."

Zack played with a lock of hair that lay on my cheek. "You look worried."

"I..." I began. And then I paused. The last time Zack had caught wind of Manticore being on his case, he had split. On our wedding day. He was not running this time. "I love you."

Zack looked taken back. "Jon, what's wrong?" he said, giving me a quizzical look.

"I love you!" I said indignantly. "Can't I tell you that without you being suspicious?"

"Not when I know there's a Fendi sale starting tonight," Zack retorted. "You want my AmEx?"

"Not particularly," I said, kissing his cheek. "Thought we could stay in tonight with a DVD and a pizza. Just you and me."

Zack shook his head. "I love you, too, Jon. No matter how big my credit card bill is," he replied with a wicked glint in his eyes. I slid off his lap, pushing my hair from my eyes and smirked at him.

"Bill size makes up for lack of in other areas," I replied sweetly, and was rewarded with a glare for my efforts.

"You weren't complaining earlier. Go send death threats, let me finish here," he said, turning back to his computer.

I nodded, and left the room, shutting the door behind me. I couldn't tell him he was a target. I couldn't lose him again.

Please review! Ch 4 will be here soon, now that I can legitimately write this in class. Bwah.