You never can be too sure these days

Disclaimer: The 4400 belong to USA network...

A/n: Since I've only seen the first parts of the second series, that's where this could be set.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Just a minute." There was activity from inside the apartment. "I'm so sorry Michael but I can't..."

Shawn stood, hands in pockets, outside of the familiar woman's apartment. "I need to talk to you." He said simply. There was a long silence between them as she thought, finally moving to one side to allow him in. Shawn had told Collier he needed to speak with her, alone; scaring her away was the last thing he wanted. He followed her through to the lounge, noting that most of the apartment was functional ; the bare necessities. She gestured for him to sit and wrapped her robe around herself before doing the same herself. "You look like you've been expecting me." He said.

She shrugged. "I never told you my name, or where I live; which means you tracked me down. Why?"

"I'm not buying it. If you didn't know why I was here, you would've asked before letting a total stranger into your apartment." He leant forward. "Three men were attacked the day before yesterday, and I think you know something about it."

"I don't."

"You placed the 911 call reporting the attack." Her eyes betrayed her for a moment. "I recognised your voice. I've seen the three men, or at least what they used to look like, and they were the same guys from the coffee shop where I met you. When we spoke outside, and I asked you about the book, you said three men were bothering you. I'd say it was coincidence," he looked into her eyes, "if I believed there was such a thing."

She ran a hand through her rich, black hair. "What do you want from me?"

"Answers would be nice. The police are trying to build a case and I think I might just be their prime suspect."

"Well," she began, standing and moving to let him out, "I don't have any so..."

He'd seen it coming, blocking her path. "Worst case scenario: I'm looking at murder. I'm usually not like this but somehow, when that thought keeps popping up in the back of my mind, I get a little anxious." She was silent as he looked down at her. It was obvious that his approach wasn't working, and to be honest, he wasn't sure he wanted it to. His expression changed as he tried to let go of his frustration. "Let's start over. My name's Shawn Farrell."

She seemed to relax as well. "Anäis." Anäis sat back down, watching as Shawn took the seat next to her. "I went back to the café a little while after we spoke. I was half way to a friends place when I realised that my coffee order wasn't right; it must've somehow gotten mixed up. On my way back, I saw the three of them... They were ganging up on... someone. I stayed back..." She stopped. "They started beating him up and then they pushed him into the alleyway. I heard them shouting about not wanting "freaks in their town", or something like that. The air got hot, and suddenly there was electricity or lightning or something but I didn't see what happened to them. The man ran, and I did the same."

Shawn was silent. "Was he a 4400?" She caught his brown eyes with her own of the same colour, and nodded. "Did you get a good look at the guy?"

"No, I'm sorry. I was... confused, I didn't know exactly what was going on and I got scared." Her phone rang. "Give me a minute?" She took the call in the kitchen, her voice could be faintly heard. "Michael, pouvez-vous téléphoner s'il vous plaît plus tard ?Non, non, je suis bien. Au revoir."

"Thank you, for speaking to me." Shawn said, standing as she came back. "I'm sorry to have bothered you this late."

She shook her head. "No, it's me that's sorry. I wish I could be of more help." They walked to the door, not managing to say much. "Shawn," she called, leaning her head against the door. "You seem like a very good person, and I'm sorry that you got caught in the middle of something that has nothing to do with you. If there's anything else that I can think of that might help you, I will come and talk to you at the 4400 center, non?" Anäis extended a slim brown hand. "It was nice to meet you."

"Likewise, but I wish it were under better circumstances." With a final wave, he turned and left.

888

Tom and Diana sat at The Mayan Café, at the table closest to the street corner. Lunch had been a joint decision, and much needed. The oddest thing about the restaurant at which they sat, was that it wasn't a café, nor did it serve Mayan cuisine; a fact which they seemed to point every time they dined there. "I mean, what is Mayan cuisine anyway?" Tom had remarked. The sky was cloudy and most of the days that had past were far from sunny and bright. There had been unusually frequent thunderstorms that the weather report seemed to not mention, so the weather had generally seemed to take a turn for the worst.

"Can I take your orders?" The waitress asked, readying her pen and notepad.

"Yes, you may." Tom smiled. He suddenly frowned. "Phone."

Diana smiled quizzically. "Somehow, don't think that's on the menu."

He pulled his cellphone out of his jean pocket and answered. "Tom Baldwin." He listened for a short while and then: "We won't be ordering anything." to the waitress. Tom motioned for them to leave and continued to listen as they walked to the car. "Okay, I'm going to put you on speakerphone." He told the caller, Diana closing her car door. "We're here."

-We just got a call, suspected 4400 activity. The voice belonged to Nina Jarvis, head of NTAC's Pacific Northwest Division Operations.

"Where?" Diana asked.

-Mercantile Bank. Listen to me, this is serious. If the media get a hold of this, we're going to be so far up the creek, a paddle wouldn't do a damn thing.

The two agents looked at each other. "What exactly happened?" asked Tom.

-You'll know when you get there.

"Oh my god." The trip to the bank had been pretty routine. The pleasantries and introductions had all been run of the mill. It was only once they were brought to the site in question that routine, and run of the mill pretty much took a vacation. Diana had to stop cold as she reached the volt of the bank; and it seemed that so did her partner. NTAC clean up and a few officers who had been the first on the scene, passed them as they stared at the area where the vault door used to be. The steel door had melted, and so had part of the wall. "Jarvis was right, this is a serious problem. I mean if it got out, every 4400 would be feared... even more than they are now."

Tom inspected the substances on the floor, and questioned the suited man who was collecting samples not too far from him. "What is this stuff?"

"Our first guess: steel and concrete, liquidized and reconstituted." The man said.

Tom let it sink in, and turned back to Diana. "Yeah, we've definitely got a problem."

888

"Can you be sure that she was telling the truth?" Jordan asked Shawn. "I'm all for having faith in people, but I'm cautious to take them at their word." He chalked his queue, took a brief few seconds to line up his shot, and took it. They'd taken to a game of pool in the early hours of the morning. Shawn couldn't sleep; he couldn't work either, so he'd muddled around at his desk for hours before Jordan had pulled him away. "I understand that all of this is overwhelming; something that most people will never have to face in their lifetime, even fewer at your age." Shawn took his shot. "She's the only link we have to what happened. Without her we're grasping at straws, at best. I don't know, maybe I should..."

"Jordan, drop it!" He finally shouted. "I know how bad things can get, or are you forgetting that it's my freedom on the line?"

Collier sighed. "I'm sorry if it seems like I'm hounding you, but you're important to everyone here." He chalked his queue again. "But more than that, I honestly don't want to see you behind bars."

"Thank you, but I handled it. We've just got to start looking somewhere else." Jordan nodded, and took his shot. He couldn't possibly know that Shawn's outburst had been the result of his own self-doubt. Did I really handle it? He thought, watching the nine ball sink into the corner pocket.

"This man that she saw, she told you he was one of us?" asked Jordan.

"Yeah."

"I'd be interested to find out what ability he posses. If he did that to those three men... his gift is dangerous."

"Listen, I'm pretty tired out." Shawn said, rubbing his eyes.

"I thought you said you couldn't sleep." Matter-of-factly.

Shawn set his queue down and grabbed his jacket. "Night, Jordan." He got to the doors of the center, swung his coat on and turned up the collar. It was raining, seemed like it always was; luckily his place wasn't too far away, for obvious reasons. All of the chaos in his life couldn't have come at a worse time. Working with Jordan Collier had been the smartest decision he'd ever made, but his life hadn't gotten any easier. He'd been having spells of doubt: himself, Jordan, the 4400, all for different reasons. There was a point where he felt he was stagnating, a little boy playing at being a grown up. He wasn't a little boy, and he sure as hell wasn't intent on playing, but he didn't know how to shake off the security net that his job and position had handed to him. He had to grow up, fast.

He'd been so lost in thought, he didn't really remember the walk home. He let himself in, and made his way straight to his bedroom. The first order of business was finding a towel and getting out of his wet clothing. A sudden knock on the door interrupted his plans. Shawn checked the alarm clock on his nightstand: 01:52. Jordan needs to give me space and let me think. He walked to the door, shocked at the face that greeted him.

Anäis stood, shivering, in the doorway. Her clothing had been soaked through, and her make-up had failed to stand up to the rain. "I lied." She strode past him and brought her hands through her hair. "Don't say anything, not yet. I have to say what I'm going to say, and you, you have to just listen. I've gone over this a thousand times in my mind, so let me just say this, s'il vous plaît." Shawn nodded. "I didn't turn back to get a latté. There was no other man. They didn't gang up on someone, they ganged up on me. And, I lied about what I said I was." She said slowly, eyes closed. "I wasn't lying when I said I didn't see what happened to them; I didn't... but I do know. I couldn't see because... They were following me from the café; when I tried to run, they caught up and cornered me in that alley. It was name calling at first, then they started asking me why I had been talking to you." Shawn stepped closer. "They said that I had been a 'bad girl' for flirting with... a freak. They said that they would have to show me a lesson; teach me what a real man, or three, feels like." He took another step, she backed away, trying hard to slow her breathing. "They... he pushed me down and climbed on behind me, held my face down on the tar..."

"Anäis..."

"I kept my eyes closed..." She trailed off as he took another few steps closer. "I didn't mean to hurt them that way, and I'm sorry that you're involved." Anäis dropped to the floor, her legs giving way from beneath her. Tears welled in her eyes, bringing them to glisten in the dim light, but stopped short of falling.

"No, I'm sorry." He tried to comfort her, cradling her body as it shook in his arms. "I'm so sorry."

Continued...