He heard it, the sound of a plane. He knew what it was; he had heard it so many times. It was also far different than the sound of the parachute he was laying on scrapping across the ground.

He had considered getting up and walking himself, but he was in so much pain… And so tired… He felt guilty, but her constant pull on the parachute straps around her shoulders indicated that she showed no signs of wearing. It was just as steady and strong now as when she had started… He looked at the sun; that was almost a day ago – nonstop.

The sound of the idling plane was coming closer. He was actually excited – he would see Thalia again. He tried to look, but couldn't see anything.

There was another noise; he knew it to be the back hydraulic ramp of a plane opening. …A shadow passed over him – it felt so good – and he knew they were underneath the plane, near the ramp, but they stopped.

He heard a few pairs of boots on the lowered ramp and then on the ground. He looked up into familiar faces. He was saved. He didn't even know her and she had saved him…

She stopped just short of the ramp. The straps to her parachute were still coming out of the pack on her back. The parachute blew in the desert wind now that it was relieved of Griffin's weight. A few people on the plane hoped that she would blow away – for her own sake.

Bishop emerged from the darkness of the interior of the plane like he was emerging from a dense evil fog. He walked down the platform and stopped about midway down, just looking at her. His face betrayed no emotion. A few of the guys brought Griffin up the ramp beside him, but he paid them no heed.

After the men had receded into the plane he spoke loudly over the hum of the plane, "Do you think you could march back to base from here?" His tone was one of sarcasm, referring to her march across the desert.

They were both standing perfectly erect, neither showing any hint of – anything. She reached up to her sunglasses and pulled them off, turning her head slightly to do so. She turned her attention back to him and said, "I know I could."

They stood for another moment, neither saying nor doing anything. Then Bishop tilted his head back and began a regal, brisk laugh. He reached in his front pants pocket and pulled something out. He looked at it for a moment and tossed it to her under hand.

She held up her hand and the silver object flew into it as though guided by divine force. "Get on the plane, Rhone," Bishop said after he had turned and started to walk up the ramp.

She looked at what she had caught. It was a watch like all of the others wore. She turned it over, there was an inscription:

Tomorrow the world

XXXXX

He pried his eyes open. It felt like a kindergartener had put paste in them while no one was watching. His mouth was dry and something was agitating his arm. With some effort, he lifted his hand slightly and looked down – there was an I.V. in it. How had he forgotten that? …He was in the Medical Room at home – base. Normally, it wasn't a good place to be, but this time it was just good to be alive.

He was going to look over and see if Rhone Chade was in a bed next to him, but he heard her voice, "You're awake."

He turned his head – Man, everything hurt. She was leaning her back against the wall with one foot against it as though she was playing a significant role in keeping it standing. …She was here? He had seen Tally briefly and she said that Rhone was fine – actually, she showed no signs of what she had done. It was like she had gone out for a walk on a fine spring day instead. In addition to being fine, she had defied Bishop, and was not in the hole – lucky. No, someone was watching over her.

She pushed off the wall and closed the distance to his bed. "I'm…" she started.

"Rhone," he rasped and held up a meek hand to shake.

She nodded and took his hand, but it wasn't a shake. They grabbed hands firmly – he as firmly as he could, as if solidifying some great alliance. The kind of alliance that could move a mountain or part an ocean and it would just be getting started.

They let go of one another and she said, "Rest."

She turned to walk out. "Why did you come for me?" he rasped, "You don't even know me."

She didn't really answer his question, "Because that's the way it should be." She reached the door, "That's the way it's going to be."

XXXXX

"And we have been," Griffin paused as to not say friends, "Allied ever since."

"Bishop didn't seem to be," Lex looked at his Napoleon Frank watch – it was Thursday, "Adverse to punishing people. Why didn't anything happen to Rhone? What about the people that helped her come for you?"

"Well, if he wasn't going to punish the ring leader, it would be pretty hard to punish anyone else," Griffin was looking at the decanter of scotch. They had only made a small dent in it.

Lex leaned forward to fill Griffin's glass again, but the soldier picked it up and shook his head. He smiled, "I don't really think I should. I should have left a while ago and I drove here."

Lex nodded. In a way, he wanted Griffin to stay. He was a good guy – a good guy that had Rhone stories. It was also kind of nice to hang out with another guy that was… Well, they were probably the same distance in age as he was from Clark – but on the older side of the spectrum. However, they were closer in – life experience than he was with Clark. "Why did he let her off?" Lex was referring to Bishop.

Griffin maintained his smile and shook his head, "I asked him that once. He said, 'Griff, that girl was born one of two things: leader or savior." He did an imitation of Bishop when he quoted him – English accent prevalent.

Lex looked at Griffin as if to say, "And that means what?"

"In either case, she would chafe against authority. She couldn't help doing the things she did. Not only that, but it made her the best," Griffin clarified. "He never let anyone off like that before her," Griffin said as he stood to leave. She was never punished for anything.

"Why was she different?" Lex wondered aloud as they reached the door to his office.

Griffin shook his head, "I don't know for sure. But a lot of things changed after she came. Bishop changed…"

Lex looked at him inquisitively.

"I gotta go, Man," he walked ahead of Lex to indicate he didn't need help out, "Thanks for the booze. Maybe the next time I come over, I won't have to drive – or remember my name…"

Lex wasn't going to follow Griffin out if he didn't need it. It just wasn't something you did with another guy. At least, he didn't think it was. He never did with Clark anyway. "Let me know if you hear anything," Lex tried to sound nonchalant. He was going to ask for continuous hourly updates but couldn't crack his urbane exterior enough to do so. He had a feeling Griffin would contact him if they found something.

He internally sighed at the thought of Rhone calling him urbane. It felt better and better every time he remembered it.