I would just like to thank all of the reviewers, it really meant a lot to me that you guys reviewed even though some of you don't normally review stories. They certainly help with writing, as inspiration to write more and to know what areas need work on. So thank you, very very much.

To the guests who reviewed, and there were many of them, thank you all; I'm sorry I could not thank you personally. But I really really do appreciate them.

Marianamr: I'm very glad you're liking how I'm going with the story, and the way I'm doing them; cause she is in love with him, even though he's proving to be a "bad guy". I love leaving just like little lines where I foreshadow how this ends, it's fun to put them there. I'm not sure how I'm going to do the present time, cause there won't be much of it - so I may actually end up keeping her telling what happens, even though, well I won't say anymore cause it may ruin it. And yes, my Azog story. It was very dark, cause he's Azog; and I loved writing him way more than I thought I would. Thank you so much for your kind review.

He barely spoke to me the next few days, refused to acknowledge my exsistence when I spoke to him. It had almost made me smile when I'd first stepped out of the bathroom, to be greeted with nothing more than cold eyes filled with loathing and a clenched jaw. I had angered him, bested him; or so I thought. I had been pleased to know I could frustrate him, to get under his skin the way he was starting to get under mine. At least until I grew bored. I had four days before I'd start at the hospital, and he had a habit of disappearing during the day; I knew enough not to leave the room, which left me with nothing to do. After the first ten hours with nothing but the news I was itching even for his company, and he really wasn't bad company. When he wasn't being a self entitled ass with a superiority complex. But he wasn't all bad.

These were the things that occupied my mind; reasons why I should hate him, and the reasons why I didn't. There were hours I hated myself for how many more reasons I had why I didn't hate him, and other hours I gave up hating myself. He had been pleasant enough for weeks, actually more kind of great. He'd ask about my day and then listen to it as though he'd really wanted to know. How many men can you actually say that about?

He was a lot of things in that short period of time; someone to talk to, an escape from Jim being weird and Bones hating me, a pair of arms to hold me as I slept, someone to eat with and talk to, to share a shower with, to wake up beside. And he was a pretty damn good lay.

But can you really blame me for not completely hating him, he'd given me so many reasons why I couldn't. Even if I wanted to. I don't know when I stopped trying to hate him. Actually that's not entirely true, I think I know exactly when I did. It was my last free day before I'd start working at the children's hospital, John was gone somewhere. He didn't leave me with very many warnings, he didn't have to. We both knew I wasn't stupid. I didn't try to leave, I'm not sure I really cared to. I didn't try to alert anyone that I was in trouble, in all honesty other than the tracker I didn't really feel in danger; I think that's where I was the most stupid, my trust in him.

And so on that day when I heard a loud knock on my hotel room's door, I knew I wasn't supposed to answer it. I don't know if it was cause of John, of if somehow the feel of threat crept its way into my head. Either way I sat on the bed in a bathrobe staring at the door knowing the person on the other side would leave after the second round of knocking. Only they didn't, they knocked louder and more fervently; and I knew it meant something, only I didn't know what. I'll be honest, I was silently pleading with John to have heard the knocks from the tracker and was making his way back.

"Elenore Davis," a deep voice called from outside my room.

Dread crept into my heart, whoever it was had come with a purpose. And they knew I was here. "I need a minute," I called, now praying John was running, as I scrounged around for something to put on.

"I'm gonna need you to open the door now or I'll have to force my way in," he said, chilling me to the bone. "By order of Admiral Marcus."

Those four words made the air rush out of me in utter relief; Admiral Marcus was the head of Starfleet, there was nothing to fear. Perhaps he knew of John Harrison, maybe I was being saved. Call it a hunch, my sixth-sense, complete and utter luck; but the moment I opened the door and saw the mass of muscle that was the man knocking on my door, I did not feel safe. "Is something wrong?" I asked, standing behind the door to shield myself as much as possible.

"Have you seen this man?" he asked holding out a monitor with John's face on it.

I stared at the picture for many seconds, warring with myself whether I should answer honestly. Every instinct in my body told me to lie, so I did. "Not that I remember."

The man nodded, his eyes hardening as he looked down at me. At least twice my shoulder-width I had no doubt he could hurt me. "There was a report that you were seen with a man who looks like him," he said, a warning in his voice.

My mind moving a mile a minute I held my hand out for the monitor, feighing like I needed to see his face because I didn't know it. "I work at the hospital, I might have seen him there," I offered with a shrug and an apologetic face. "I also go the bar on the corner often, maybe he bought me a drink. I really don't recognize him, sorry." I knew he didn't buy it, I knew from his hot eyes and deep scowl that he was furious; he had no reason to question me further, not without proof.

"Would you mind if I step inside for a moment?" he asked, though I knew it wasn't a request.

"Actually I would," I told him without a single reason to back up my refusal; all that was going through my head was John's clothes, his shampoo, his toothbrush, everything that proved that I was not alone like I should have been.

It must have set off some alarm in his head cause his hand twitched, and my eyes caught sight of the gun beneath his jacket. "I'm sure the admiral would love to hear about this," he threatened, sneering at me because that was enough for any Starfleet Officer to do as they were told - their job was at stake, not mention with this guy standing outside my door my life.

But in the span of those few seconds before he'd spoken I'd thought of a reason to refuse, and to get rid of him. "I'm sure he would," I said defiantly. "Be sure to tell him you demanded to come into my room when I was wearing nothing more than a robe. I bet he'd love that." I smiled internally when the edge left his eyes, when doubt crept in as he realized I had every reason to say no. "If Admiral Marcus has anymore questions I would be more than happy to answer them, so long as he sends someone other than you." And with that I slammed the door closed, playing the part of the affronted innocent woman to hide the quiver in my spine.

John found me a little while later sitting on the bed still in the robe. "Who the hell was that?" I demanded the second he walked in the door. Having spent an hour waiting for the guy to come back with proof I'd been lying and either cart me off to be tortured, or to use me as bait for John - the mind does funny things when under stress.

"A man working for Admiral Marcus," he answered staring at me in incredulous amazement.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. "Why didn't you come back sooner?" I asked roughly. In all honesty I had been afraid whoever that guy had been had found John, and it had surprised me how much I didn't want that; I'd been worried about him, to tell you the truth.

"Yes I'm sure the man watching the hotel would have loved that, use your brain Elenore," he answered, his voice laced with such condescending that I felt stupid for having asked.

"I'm sorry that the man with the gun, who I'm pretty damn sure wanted to aim it at me, scared me a little," I yelled, staring at his hot eyes with my own furious ones. "Why are they after you?" I asked getting to my feet.

He shook his head before grabbing a bag. "I'm not answering that," he said as he began rifling through the room, shoving things in the lack duffle bag.

My brows rose in shock, there was no way in hell he was getting away with that now. "Actually I think you are."

"I beg your pardon?" he questioned as he stilled completely, turning to me with fury in his eyes.

I didn't care at that point, my hands were shaking with the adrenaline and fear that I had suppressed as I waited for John to come back. "Do you have any idea what would've happened if he'd come in here?" I demanded as I stepped to him. "He would have seen that there was a man staying with me, I should be alone. He already knew I was lying. I don't know what's going on but I'm pretty sure I just bought you time. Now why are they after you?"

I waited nearly heaving as he glared down at me, seeing in his eyes he was weighing what to do - and I was very aware one of those options was killing me. "I went against orders," he answered finally. I honestly don't know why he didn't just kill me then, it's possible he could have gotten to Lucille without me - or figured out another plan. But I had bought him time, I had kept him a secret, I was smart enough to know which person to trust - at that moment, it was him. It could have been any of those, or it could've been something else I hadn't thought of. Either way he didn't kill me, at least not then.

I knew that was all I'd get out of him, I knew it from the way he hastily packed his bag. "Where are you going?" I asked quietly, wondering how much danger I was now in if he was running. Wondering if he was the danger, or if perhaps it lay in the Admiral - a daft idea I quickly shook off, though it had struck me.

"You needn't concern with that," he answered absentmindedly as he closed the bag and turned to me. "You begin work at the Children's Hospital tomorrow," he said stepping to me and staring down at my face. "It would be best should you gain access to Lucille Harewood's room no later than the end of your shift."

I stared up at him, a concern pressing against my mind until the words fell from my lips. "Should I be afraid of you?" I asked watching his brow twitch as though it wanted to raise in surprise. "Or should I be afraid of them?" I didn't know what to do anymore, I didn't have any answers; I was running blind and my next move could send me falling off a cliff.

The corners of his mouth quirked before he bent to my ear. "Trust your instinct," he said softly in my ear. "You're smarter than you think." I was struggling to catch my breath, his deep purr of a voice shivering down my spine, and he was already at the door. "Thank you for not speaking of me," he said as he stood in the doorway, shocking me. And then he was gone.

So it was brought up by one reviewer the sudden shift of "normal" between Ellie and John and then John suddenly being the "bad guy". And I think I showed part of the reason why in this chapter, even though I never explained it; cause it is from her point of view, and there's so much she doesn't know. But there's people after John, so he's running out of time being patient with Ellie and he needs her to do the things he asks, and he needs her to do them quickly so that he can run before he gets caught. I just wanted to clarify that in case there was anyone else who was put off by the sudden shift.