Hey guys,

If anyone is still reading this, I'm sorry for the hideous delay. I've moved! And for anyone who's done it, you know it means access to the Internet is severely interrupted. But I have been thinking on the story (marinating on it, if you will), and it's still going places, even if I haven't been able to post in awhile. So to placate my existing reviewers and hopefully encourage you to stick with it, here's a long one…to be followed by more chapters in a more timely fashion.

Enjoy all!

Ursula

Chapter 8

Thanks to a busy work schedule, Shawn didn't see Claire at all for the rest of the day, he was kept so busy supervising courses and counseling new arrivals. With a sense of trepidation that had formed a hard lump in her throat that she found impossible to swallow, Claire reported to Jordan's apartment that evening, steeling herself for what was to come.

Surprisingly, he smiled at the sight of her, and rather than leading her to the back room as she was accustomed, he ushered her to his living room couch and sat next to her, fairly beaming with pleasure.

"Claire, well, as I'm sure you can tell, I'm remarkably pleased with the progress you have made so far as a result of our sessions."

"Yes, well, you do look pleased." She tried a small smile, her nervousness abating somewhat.

"Your friend Shawn came to see me today, and he seemed quite concerned for your welfare." Jordan's tone remained friendly, but she could tell he was searching her reaction for some clues to her relationship with Shawn. He got what he wanted; she started at the mention of Shawn's name. "And so, although I had planned to continue the experimentation for some time yet to determine the extent of your latent abilities; it seems Shawn's concerns have forced my hand." Still, he maintained the jovial tone, although Claire knew there could be nothing Jordan liked less than being forced to deviate from his carefully planned actions. "Now, if you will agree, I would like to organize a press conference at which you and I will be able to reveal your abilities to the general public to show them the giant leap forward you represent to the work of the 4400 foundation."

For a moment she was speechless; his invitation was so utterly unexpected. She had arrived there that night expecting him to have invented some new form of unpleasantness with which to plague her, but instead he wanted to reward her! She flashed a genuine smile. "Sure! I mean, of course! That would be great Jordan, great!"

His bearded face split into a wide smile. "Wonderful! What's say we drink to it?" He moved to uncork a bottle of wine on the kitchen counter behind them.

"What? Oh, okay." She took the proffered glass and raised it to his in a toast before taking a sip.

"I meant what I said before Claire. I really am very pleased with the progress you've been making. You've proven yourself to be capable of overcoming great hardship and have developed into a great asset for the center. I couldn't be prouder."

She smiled thinly, embarrassed by his effusive praise. "Well I do appreciate all the help you've given me Jordan."

"Oh, nonsense. You've really excelled." At this, he made the unexpected intimate gesture of reaching over and smoothing a lock of her hair between his forefinger and thumb. Confused, and resisting the urge to jump back, she gave a nervous chuckle and cleared her throat.

"Thank you."

And then he kissed her, and she froze. It was a gentle, tentative kiss, his beard scratchy against her cheek, yet nothing could have been more unexpected. Wasn't this the man who, twenty four hours previous, had tried fervently to cause her bodily harm? Hadn't he struck her with the back of his hand? She had no idea how to respond. Was this just a friendly thank-you kiss? When he saw that she wasn't resisting his overture, he deepened the kiss, reaching behind her to pull her to him, and Claire's senses came rushing back to her. Every muscle in her ached to push him away, to refuse him, but she owed him so much, she hesitated, wondering if she could deny him anything after all he had done for her. Confused and terrified, she choked on a sob and Jordan pulled away, a look of confusion on his face.

Conflicting emotions coursing through her, she collected herself. "I'm sorry," she stammered. "I'm just – I mean I'm really sore, and I can't really – I'm sorry, I should go." This wasn't entirely true. Yes, her wounds were still tender, but she was using them as an excuse to escape Jordan's advances without causing him to feel hurt or rejected. She needed him to maintain his good opinion of her; her survival depended on it.

"Oh, I didn't realize…"

"No, I mean, of course you wouldn't." She forced a weak smile and edged toward the door. "I should really just go. Um, thank you for the – uh – " She gestured toward the wine glasses left on the coffee table, opened the door as calmly as possible, and as soon as she was far enough away from his door, broke into a frantic run.

She owed Jordan Collier a great debt, and she was grateful to him for all that he had given her. But after his recent treatment of her, his experiments, could he really expect her to reciprocate any romantic feelings he had? And what business of his was it to even foster any such feelings toward her? She was his employee, his student. Claire searched her mind for clues in Jordan's behavior that would have given her any idea what he expected of her. Finding none, and fearing Jordan's reaction if she didn't fulfill his expectations, she cried out loudly in frustration, choking on great, hiccupping sobs, finally succumbing to the fear that had shaken her since Jordan had begun his experiments. That who she kissed and who she loved should be governed by a sense of obligation made her ache with misery. Regardless of her debt to Jordan, it wasn't his place to tell her who she could be with, and she suddenly, desperately needed to prove that to herself.

It was late, near midnight, but she didn't care as she banged loudly on Shawn's door. He answered quickly, clearly he hadn't been asleep. His initial look of happiness at finding her at his door changed quickly to one of confusion and distress as he was confronted with the unaccustomed sight of her face wet with tears. "Claire, what's the matter?"

She grabbed his lapels of his jacket and pulled him to her, pressing her lips to his with such force and desperation, she was sure they would bruise. He sputtered. "Claire, what – "

"Don't ask me Shawn, please don't ask me." She pushed him into the apartment and kissed him again, pressing herself to him, needing to be closer, to be as close to him as she could be. He kissed her back, tentatively at first, but with increasing ardor. Still, he couldn't pretend not to notice the sobs that still shook her.

"Claire, what did he do to you?" Quite abruptly, the tears turned to fury as she looked up at him. She pushed him away roughly, suddenly disgusted.

"So that's what this is, is it? Just another attempt to get information from me about Jordan and his fascinating experiments?" Her words dripped with sarcastic fury. "Don't think I haven't noticed, Shawn, all your questions…asking me, every minute of every day, 'What is Jordan doing Claire? Tell me about your nights with Jordan, Claire.' Is this some kind of macho pissing contest for you? Well, I can tell you this, I don't go to Jordan's apartment in the middle of the night and throw myself at him only to be prodded for information!"

Shawn held up his hands in surrender, confused by her violent reaction to his question. "Hey, c'mon. It's not like that. I was just concerned."

"Oh don't give me that I-did-it-for-you bullshit!" She narrowed her eyes. "You've wanted to know about them from day one."

"Okay, okay, that may be!" The volume of Shawn's voice rose as he went more and more on the defensive against her attack. "But – but that was just because I wanted to be sure he wasn't hurting you!" Just like that, his anger deflated.

She shook her head, trying to maintain her indignant disbelief as she swiped the wetness from her cheeks with the heels of her hands.

"Okay, Claire, let's not fight. I won't ask again. Let's just…" His eyes searched his apartment frantically for some source of distraction. "Some tea maybe? My mom always gave me tea when I was upset, and lacking a sedative…" He succeeded in coaxing a small smile from her. "Let's see what I can find."

"Tea, sure." She trailed him to the kitchen where he rummaged through several cabinets. To give herself time to collect her emotions, she turned to look at the interior of his apartment, admiring the clean lines and open spaces. If she was honest with herself, she knew that he had meant well with his questions. She had just wanted to let herself feel something simple without sensing an alternative motive behind it. But she knew she had an alternative motive of her own. Would she have ever gone to Shawn if Jordan hadn't confused her with his unwanted advances?

"Well, this is embarrassing. I have no tea to offer you, but can I interest you in a bottle of Yoo-Hoo?"

"Mhm. Sure." She mumbled, still gazing at the apartment. Not seeing that her attention was elsewhere, he tossed the bottle in her direction and shouted when he saw that it was heading for her but she wasn't going to catch it. She turned just in time to see the bottle and, without thinking she glared at it, sending it spinning to crack against the kitchen wall, dribbling its contents to the floor.

"Jesus! What was that?"

"Oh wow, I'm sorry! I just wasn't thinking and - . Here, let me help you clean it up." She reached for a dish towel and bent over the spill, but he remained standing, staring with mouth agape.

"You can move things with your mind? Since when?"

"Not really. I mean, only if they're going to hurt me, I think. It's no big deal." She concentrated on mopping up the mess, trying not to look up at Shawn's shocked face. It appeared Shawn had discovered the results of her experiments with Jordan, whether she wanted to tell him or not.

"Yeah. Right. No big deal. Sure," he scoffed sarcastically. "I just repel objects with the force of my thoughts; it's no big deal." He mimicked her in a high, girlish voice.

She finished with the mess on the floor and turned to throw the dirty dishtowel in the sink. "Shut up."

"Why don't you make me? Can't you hurl some kitchen knives my way or something?" He smiled, jokingly.

She faced him, smiling in disbelief. She had gone there that night desperately wanting to prove her independence from Jordan and that desperation had quickly changed to anger (perhaps with the wrong person), but Shawn had managed to restore her to some sense of normalcy, and even got her joking with him over spilled chocolate drink. Her reply reflected her confusion at her own conflicting feelings. "I don't think I want to hurl kitchen knives at you." The phrase sounded so ridiculous, she shook her head and laughed upon saying it.

He laughed. "Good." He took a step toward her and kissed her lightly, still smiling. It felt sweet. "Are you sure you're okay?"

She sighed. "Yeah, I mean, I will be." She looked up at him, suddenly slightly abashed by her behavior. "Thanks."

"Hey, it was no big deal. Look, it's late and you're…" he chuckled. "…a mess." She smiled ruefully in acknowledgement. "Do you want to crash here tonight? Save yourself the walk?"

Exhausted, Claire nodded. "That would be nice. Thanks." She gazed at him mutely, wondering for a moment if she should kiss him again, so badly did she want to express without words how much she appreciated him for easing her burdens, if only for a few moments. As if he understood, Shawn pulled her into a tight embrace, but she couldn't help gasping at the pressure on her bruises.

He noticed and pulled away. "Jordan…?" He seemed torn between anger and sadness.

"It doesn't matter." She meant it. At the moment, her bruises meant nothing.

"Does it hurt?" He looked so confused, suddenly.

She took his hand and, smiling, pressed it to the bruise on her cheek that he had failed to heal that morning. "Not anymore." Seeing the tired look in her eyes, he said no more, but took her hand and led her quietly to his bedroom, closing the door softly behind them.