A.N: I know this is short, but I am so tired and sicky that all I can write is a filler-ish chapter. My apologies. Thank you for the reviews and the follows', you're all such lovely people, and you made me so happy! Updates are every Wednesday and remember that although I am taking a break from writing my other Karla and Saul stories, this will feature them quite heavily. The back-story of my characters is completely fictional, I made it up to suit the story and I in no way own these characters or the Savant idea- all rights go to Joss Stirling. This is about the boys finding their soulfinders and if you have any questions, then feel free to jump up and down, waving your hands in the air. Thank you for reading and reviewing in advance, I hope you enjoy! Xxx

Denver

Trace was in a state of shock. That much was clear. Ridley was the happiest she had been in a long time. The situation was perfect. She had kidnapped Anya Benedict as revenge for Karla's betrayal of their deal. Now she was the soulfinder of Trace Benedict. She could easily worm her way in and rip them apart from the inside. All she had to do was act and acting was easy, she hadn't trained in drama for nothing. Her insides shivered with glee and she smiled as Trace took her hand. He was rich too, and there was nothing better than having everything you wanted to just fall into your lap.

Everything was perfect, perfect, perfect. And she didn't even care that Drake was waiting at their hideout, still babysitting the brat. She could hurt Karla more from the inside. What was that saying? Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. Well, this was as close as they could get.

The best was yet to come, Ridley realised, as she rested her head on his arm, she didn't even need to torture Anya any more for information; she could get it all from Trace. Anya could waste away in that basement for all she cared.

Ridley wanted to skip and laugh, which was neither of her (real and chosen) character traits. Instead she giggled and leaned into Trace.

"Where do you live Ridley?" Trace asked once they reached his car. A Mercedes; oh Ridley, you are in for a treat, she thought to herself.

"I'm here on a business trip, and I've never been here before. I was staying in a hotel, but I can't remember where or which one it was." Ridley pouted and looked up at Trace earnestly. He grinned.

"I'm going back to my apartment and then I'm going to stay with my parents for the weekend. You could stay with me while you're here and then we could work something out." Trace looked at her and Ridley smiled and patted his cheek.

"That would be fantastic! Oh Trace you're so kind!" Trace shuffled and looked down. He opened the door and Ridley got in. They drove in silence for the first ten minutes.

"Trace, that woman, the one who-"

"Sweetheart you don't have to worry about her, I'll sort it."

"No, no, it's about what she said, about getting it on with her man."

"Oh?"

"She was wrong, he came onto me, wouldn't stop touching me and offering me drinks and-" fake tears welled in Ridley's eyes and she hastily wiped them away. Trace's face was anguished in the orange streetlights. "I don't drink Trace, I never have, I was only there because it was a friend's birthday, I told them I was going home and she followed me out!"

The car stopped as Trace pulled into a parking space. "Come on baby," he murmured, opening the door for her and gently lifting her into his strong arms; Ridley could feel his muscles contracting through her dress. She pressed her face into the crook of his neck and wrapped both arms around his neck. Trace couldn't help but realise that together, he and Ridley looked just like his mom and dad. He couldn't help but wonder how he could ever have criticised his parent's undying love for one another; he felt exactly the same way about Ridley as his father did about his mother. He smiled, kissed her forehead and carried her inside the apartment building.

Trace's apartment was bare and clean. It was like a showroom, as if nobody had ever lived there. He carried her into the bedroom first. "If you want you can shower; there are towels in that closet and you can wear one on my t-shirts or something, pick anything."

Ridley nodded. She showered quickly, although while she was in there she called Drake to explain what was going on. They had laughed for a long time and plotted the next scheme in their game. She snatched a plain white shirt, rolling up the sleeves and doing up the buttons half way. Trace was already in bed and she snuggled into his side. He kissed the top of her head and the light went out, Trace thinking of how happy he was and how he and Ridley would be together forever.

The Benedict Home, Wrickenridge

Saturday dawned grey and drizzly, and the damp cold seemed to hang inside the Benedict home rather than out of it. The Christmas tree seemed dull and appeared to be sagging, rather than standing tall. The bulbs had gone in both the kitchen and the bathroom and the bread on the sideboard was beginning to mould. The house was stone cold; the fire was reduced to damp ashes, the heating shut off. In his anger Xav had smashed his collection of Lego models, letting the brightly coloured bricks lose themselves in sea of clothing and empty plates and bowls. Yves had taken to organising his belongings but took no joy in the satisfaction that came about with his usual cleanliness. In a blind moment he swept everything from his desk and shattered his glasses. Zed had tried to play his video games but the lack of interest had angered him, so he threw his console at the wall, smashing it into tiny pieces, the controllers followed, then the snapping of discs until his games were gone and then they cried, the three brothers cried.

By the time midday rolled around, neither Karla nor Saul had left their bed. They could hear the anger and the hurt of their sons but ignored them, locking themselves in their own little bubble. Karla was frozen, but pressed herself to Saul's body which was burning heat. He always was warmer than most. He could easily wear thin jumpers in winter and still have enough warmth to keep Karla from icing up.

"Saul," she whispered, spreading her fingers across his chest. Her breath came out in white puffs and she slipped her legs between his. "Saul, I'm cold."

"I'm sorry, darlin', I know, I should've put the heating on sooner." Saul made to get up, but Karla stopped him.

"Saul, what if we relocated downstairs, commandeered the TV and you got a fire going? We could bring the covers and the pillows and snuggle."

"I like that idea better sweetie." Saul kissed her gently, moving from her lips across her cheek and towards her neck. She smiled and tilted her neck, allowing him better access.

"Yes," Karla said softly, smoothing his hair, "snuggling with you would be far more satisfying than anything else right now."

Saul chuckled and hugged his wife tightly, spreading warmth through her body. "You're so hot!" she gasped, and wrapped herself around him to become warmer. Saul chuckled and hugged her again then disentangled himself to stand up.

"Can I take that as a compliment?" Saul asked as he gently wrapped the duvet around Karla and lifted her into his arms.

"You can take it any way you want Saul," she shivered, whined and pressed her hand on his hot cheek. "Saul, are you feverish, or am I cold?"

Saul pressed his hand to her cheek. "You're boiling baby," he said, worriedly pressing the back of his hand to her forehead. Her forehead was burning up. "Jesus Karla, you're sick. Do you feel ill?" Karla shook her head and Saul frowned.

"Just cold," she whispered. Saul felt crushed. His wife was sick, his sons were breaking down and his baby was missing. He had to get his priorities in order. The police were coming again later with Vick to take statements; they would begin searching the local area for Anya. Okay now he had to focus on Karla.

"Baby," he cupped her cheeks, "baby don't you worry, I'm going to make you better, okay?" Karla nodded.

Soon enough Karla was in the same position Anya had been in just a week ago; she was curled under a thick duvet, water bottle by her feet, another by her stomach. The television was playing America's Next Top Model, but Karla was barely listening. Saul was at her beck and call, although she only ever asked for kisses, cuddles and a glass of water.

They were making out now, caressing each other as they crushed each other's lips. Karla gave a moan and pulled away, falling back on the pillows and breathing heavily. "Saul, I'm sorry-I-I don't feel well enough to carry on."

"Oh thank god, you know I hate it when you guys make out." Came a voice from beside Saul. Trace was stood there, a girl on his arm. Karla blinked a couple of times, and then pulled Saul closer; the woman made her uneasy. Saul obligingly kissed her forehead and slid under the covers, letting Karla curl over him protectively.

"Mom, dad, I would like you to meet Ridley; she's my soulfinder."