A/N: Wow, I'm absolute crap at remembering to update this, so have three chapters free.

Three weeks later, I was standing in our apartment. Since I lived closer to his shop than he did, we'd decided on keeping my apartment. Now, my formerly super feminine apartment was now filled to the rafters with the accumulated junk two adults acquired over years of self-reliance. It was strange seeing a rather impressive collection of razors sitting beside my own collection of makeup and hair supplies.

"Hero, come on. We're going to be late."

"I'm coming," I called back, adjusting my gown in the mirror. Peter was hosting a gala tonight to celebrate Congress passing a bill protecting Specials from having their powers forcibly removed. I'd gone shopping with Emma and had instantly fallen in love with the floor length lace gown, and it hadn't taken much prompting from my companion to buy it.

I walked out to see Gabriel looking very dashing in a tux. "Ready?"

He nodded. "You look lovely.

I smiled at him and kissed his cheek as he held open the door for me. "You're looking quite dapper yourself. Black has always been a good color for you, but with the suit..." I got an exaggerated case of elevator eyes as I shamelessly ogled him. "I may have to fight off other women tonight."

He raised an eyebrow, telekinetically locking the apartment behind us as he guided me down the hall by a hand on the small of my back. "I'm enjoying that mental image."

I laughed and swatted his stomach lightly with my clutch, making him smirk down at me. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Gray."

He held the cab door open for me, giving me a chance to scoot over and give directions to the driver as Gabriel joined me.

Fifteen minutes later, we checked through security and entered the hotel's ballroom. Whoever had decorated the event had done well; it was elegant and gorgeous, without being over the top. Theoretically, the president was supposed to be in attendance, and the only reason Gabriel and I were there was because Peter had personally requested we be put on the guest list.

"Gabriel, Hero." We turned to see Emma approaching us, a glass of wine in her hand and beaming radiantly in a golden mermaid gown. She and I exchanged kisses before Gabriel pressed a kiss to her cheek. "I'm so glad you could make it."

I tucked my clutch under my arm so that I could sign. "We wouldn't miss this. It's a big night for Peter. I know he worked hard to get that bill passed."

She smiled. "He's over the moon. I have to go be hostess now, but I wanted to make sure Gabriel saved a dance for me later."

Gabriel grinned. "I'll fight Peter for it if I have to."

She laughed. "I don't think that will be necessary." She bid us goodbye and headed off to take care of hostess duties.

Over the next several hours, we danced, ate, drank, and talked with various politicians and influential socialites. Gabriel and I would repeatedly be separated as we were pulled into different conversations or to different dance partners, but one of us would invariably find the other every once in a while for a dance. It wasn't until almost midnight that the night took a sour turn.

I thanked the bartender as he handed me a glass of wine. "So we meet again."

I turned and the warm smile froze on my face when I saw who was standing behind me. Still, there was no need to be rude, so I offered him my hand. "Dr. Goswami, right? You were at the bar with my students."

Instead of shaking my hand like I'd intended, he kissed my knuckles. "I'm pleased you remembered. You look stunning."

"Thank you." I glanced around. "Are you here with anyone?"

"Alas, no." He smiled at me. "But perhaps you would honor me with a dance?"

I floundered for a polite excuse, but none were forthcoming. "It would be my pleasure," I said with a smile instead, telling myself that five minutes with this man wasn't the end of the world.

He led me to the dance floor with a hand on the small of my back, and I couldn't help but think that his hand wasn't as reassuring as Gabriel's. "I heard that you are successfully back on track with your project," he said as I put my hands on his shoulders.

"You certainly seem to know a great deal about me," I replied awkwardly.

"Do not be alarmed, Doctor," he reassured me. "I am interested, and with the bill passed, your name has come up more and more frequently."

"All praise, I hope."

He smiled. "Word has it that you have a very altruistic benefactor: state of the art equipment and an impressive security system."

"I've been lucky." Where was he going with this?

"Indeed. How is the second round of testing coming?"

My polite smile tightened. The second round, when the subjects wore the devices at home and work, had only begun the day before. It was classified information. "Who exactly have you been speaking with?"

He shook his head. "A gentleman never reveals his sources."

I frowned. "Given that this is classified information, I think you should make an exception."

His eyes were glinted. "It's just simple word of mouth. Mere speculation. Paranoid is an unflattering look on you, Doctor."

Chided, I instantly flushed with embarrassment and dropped my gaze. Of course there would be talk; it was a high profile project now and my staff had probably just boasted about their work. I was being rude to a perfectly kind man without cause. "I apologize for overreacting. I've just worked very hard on this project, and I suppose I'm becoming a little overprotective."

His smile softened. "You have every right to be cautious, especially after the bombing. But it seems everything has been going well since."

"It has," I allowed. "The prototype we've devised has been successful with 98% of our subjects. As I'm sure you know, a 98% success rate is practically unheard of."

His smile didn't waver, but neither did it reach his eyes. "It sounds like you're progressing much faster than anyone could have anticipated."

I smiled brightly. "My team all work incredibly hard and are as devoted to this project as I am."

Our conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Gabriel, who was looking at Dr. Goswami like a guard dog distrustfully eyeing the mailman. "Dr. Goswami. I didn't expect to see you here," Gabriel said, his tone toeing the line of displeasure. His eyes flickered with surprise as he stared down the smaller man.

Dr. Goswami smiled tightly and stood. "Unfortunately, I must be going. Dr. Ramsey, it was a pleasure to speak with you. I look forward to seeing you again soon." He left so abruptly that I didn't get the chance to ask what he meant by seeing me soon.

"Well, that was weird," I commented with a frown as I watched the Indian man leave.

Gabriel's brown eyes were grim and unsettled. "He's up to something, that much I'm sure of. And he still won't let me touch him, which probably means he knows about my clairsentience." I stared at him blankly and he elaborated. "If I touch him, I see his history, which means I would also see whatever nefarious plots he's cooking up. "

"'Nefarious plots'," I repeated in amusement. "You've been watching too many Hitchcock movies."

I could see him bristle indignantly. "He's the master of psychological horror."

My phone started ringing, and I regarded him in amusement as I pulled it from my evening bag. "Easy there, Mr. Righteous Indignation," I said dryly before answering the call. "Hero Ramsey."

"Dr. Ramsey, one of the trial subjects arrived about an hour ago complaining of a headache, and started seizing." The words were heavily accented and almost too fast to understand; Sarah was panicking.

I instantly stood and grabbed my bag, heading for the exit. "Did you already take off her device and call 911?" Sarah shakily answered the affirmative. "Who is it? I'll meet them at the hospital."

"It's Marcella."

I sucked in a breath sharply, but forced my emotions back. Panic was for later, when the situation was handled. "Call everyone with a device and tell them to take it off immediately. And wake up Steven, you'll need his help. Until we prove that the device didn't cause the seizure, I don't want anyone wearing them."

"Yes, ma'am."

I hung up the phone and shoved it into my purse as I burst out onto the sidewalk, my hand out to hail a cab. Gabriel was hot on my heels. "What happened?"

"Do you remember Marcella, the little Hispanic girl?" I slid into the cab and gave the hospital name to the driver. "She started seizing. We're meeting her at the hospital."

He rubbed my back as I rested my forehead on the drivers seat. "Breathe, Hero. You didn't do this. Something else must have caused this."

I groaned into the seat before sitting back, burying my face in my hands as I tilted my head back in mental agony. "We don't know that. And what if she dies, Gabriel? I can't be responsible for... She's 8. She's only 8 years old and I promised to help her."

I couldn't see his face with my own buried in my hands, but I could hear the frown in his voice. "It's unlikely that your device caused this. She's been wearing it for two weeks in your facility, with no side effects. All your subjects have. What are the odds that the side effects start the same day the trial goes into the real world?"

I opened my eyes, realizing he had a point. "Unlikely, but not impossible," I countered, but my mind had latched onto the idea, running through the possibilities. "It could have malfunctioned," I mused, staring distractedly at Gabriel. "Though I don't see how. The case is waterproof, and we designed it to sound an alarm and then shut off if it malfunctioned."

Gabriel kept silent, letting me think as we made our way through the city, until at last we arrived at the hospital Marcella would have been taken to. He paid the cabby as I climbed out, and together we entered the Emergency Room. It didn't take long to find Marcella's parents, and Gabriel kindly waited outside the room after I put a stilling hand on his chest, understanding that I needed to do this alone.

Gabriella was wrapped in her husband's arms, but looked up when I entered the pediatric hospital room Marcella had been given, her brown eyes narrowing furiously. She threw the necklace and I caught it reflexively, not taking my gaze off her. "You said you would help her," she snarled, her eyes red and puffy from tears. "You said that it was safe.'Worst case scenario, she keeps her power', you said. I trusted you! Now she's in the hospital!"

All my resolve, all my determined logic, my desire to find the answer, all of it vanished in the face of this mother's heartbreak and fury. She had entrusted her child's safety, future, and well-being to me, and I'd let her down completely. So I stood there and let her yell at me, both because I deserved it and because it would make her feel better.

"How could you do this," she wailed, fresh tears making her cheeks glisten. "Why didn't you test it more? My daughter might die because of you. Because you wanted to make a name for yourself? Well, you have! Murderer! Power-hungry! Monster!" She dissolved into tears as I watched, and her husband glared at me.

"She was fine," Jorge growled. "Her power was gone and I could hug my daughter for the first time in years. Why did you have to mess with the device when it was working perfectly before?"

Even in the midst of my overwhelming shame, some part of my brain caught what he had said. "What do you mean? I haven't touched the device since we gave it to her two weeks ago."

There was disgusted hate in Jorge's eyes. "Don't play stupid, Doctor. You're not escaping responsibility that easy. That tech came to our home and told us he needed to fix Marcella's necklace, and like fools we let him. This is your fault."

There was a knot of dread twisting in my stomach. "No one from this project was authorized to go to your home or touch the device, Mr. Mendez. Only the FDA and I have access to your personal information, like your address." Grimly, I glanced down at the device in my hand, and my fist closed over it tightly. I looked back up at Marcella's parents to see them watching me. "I am going to find out what's going on here, and you'll be the first to know when I do."

"Yes, you do that, Dr. Ramsey," Jorge said coldly. "We'll be contacting our lawyers."

I met his eyes for a moment, but there was nothing else to be said. After all, what do you say to parents who think you almost killed your child? So I left and strode down the hall with my back straight and my chin high, feeling Gabriel fall into step with me. "Are you alright?"

I slipped my hand into his, lacing our fingers together as his enormous palm engulfed mine - it was the only weakness I could allow myself right now. "I think we have a security issue on our hands, Gabriel," I murmured, glancing at him as we walked.

Those sharp, intelligent eyes narrowed. "What happened?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose tiredly as we stepped into the elevator. "They said someone came to their house today claiming to work for me, and tampered with Marcella's device." I held it up, the small, inch wide circle glittering with the colorful stickers that I had helped Marcella put on it the day I had given it to her. It had been the first time I'd ever had skin to skin contact with the little girl. My heart clenched at the thought that someone had deliberately done this to her. "No one on my team knows their address, and more importantly, no one on my team would ever do this."

Gabriel nodded grimly as he held open the elevator door until I had exited. "We'll go back to your lab and take it apart." He cut me off when I started to protest. "No, Hero. You need me for this. I'll know how the device works the moment I see it open, and as soon as I touch it, I'll know its history and who has touched it before."

Though it was against several rules, I was relieved enough to smile at him. He was a genius in his own right; having his help would streamline the process exponentially. "Thank you," I said sincerely.

It wasn't until we were in a can headed for the lab that Gabriel asked for the device, and I handed it to him without hesitation. As soon as his hand closed over the necklace, his brown eyes became unfocused and flickered side to side, as if he were watching a slideshow. After a moment, he frowned and his eyes stilled.

"Male, about 5'11, blond hair, green eyes, medium build," Gabriel said distractedly, his eyes focused on something only he could see. "There's a white scar just above his left eyebrow, and his nose looks like it's been broken at least once." He blinked and his eyes became focused again. He handed me the device. "I didn't recognize him, though."

I shook my head. "No, it helps. I can pass out a description to my team and see if it rings any bells."

The lab was dark on the outside, but I recognized the few cars in the parking lot. It seemed my team of Avengers had assembled. Gabriel followed me to the door as I punched in the code, and we quickly made our way through the halls to the lab, where we found all 15 scientists gathered in the computer room working in groups. Some were on phones ostensibly calling the volunteers, others were bouncing ideas across a desk covered with schematics, and a third was scribbling a list of possible malfunctions on an enormous whiteboard. Everyone was arguing and no one was listening to anyone else, with the end result that the noise was deafening.

I didn't waste time; kicking off my heels, I hiked up my gown and carefully stepped onto one of the conference tables, mentally thanking my brother for teaching me how to get attention. The long, ear piercing whistle I let out made several people cover their ears, and silence fell almost instantly. I kept my tone calm but authoritative; right now, I was their boss, not their friend.

"We are scientists; emotions have no place in this room. If you can't put aside your feelings, then leave now and come back tomorrow without fear of repercussion." Not a soul moved as I scanned the room. "I spoke with Mr. And Mrs. Mendez, and they said someone came to their home claiming to be a member of this team, and tampered with Marcella's device. That means there's a security breach somewhere, and I want it found tonight. I have a description of the man, which Steven will pass around soon. If you know him, come see me privately. Tips will remain anonymous." Unsettled murmurs ghosted through the room, but I continued. "Those on the phones will continue calling the volunteers; I don't want anyone wearing this device tonight. No exceptions. Also, make it clear to them that no member of this team will be visiting their homes or tampering with their devices, and that they should immediately call the police if someone tries. Where are my engineers?" Five hands shot up. "You're with Gabriel. This is Marcella's necklace. We are going to take apart this device and figure out exactly what is wrong with it and how it's been tampered with. Research assistants?" More hands shot up. "Someone needs to file a report with the police, and this building's security should be notified that there's been a breach. I also want an email to the volunteers drafted in the next hour for my approval. It's your job to find where the leak might be; find out who everyone's been talking to and make me a list." My gaze scanned the crowd listening intently to me. "I know it's Saturday night and you had other plans, but someone is trying to kill people with the device we created. This is personal. Lets get to work, people."

Instantly, the groups broke up to fulfill their tasks, and Gabriel helped me off the table. "What are you going to do?"

I scrubbed my face tiredly. "I have to direct people. Will you be alright alone?"

He arched an eyebrow and rubbed my arm reassuringly. "I can handle a few engineers, Hero. Get some coffee. You'll feel better."

I smiled at him in gratitude. "Thank you for staying."

What followed was the longest night of my life. It seemed the saboteur had made several other house calls, and the volunteers were frightened and panicky. As lead on the project, I had made a point to personally meet with every one of them, and now I was who they called with angry questions, demanding answers I didn't have.

In between calming alarmed volunteers and calling the hospital to check on Marcella, I was managing a team of scientists who had never had to deal with a crisis like this. No sooner would I sit down for a break than someone would find me or my phone would ring, until finally I gave up and padded around the lab barefoot in an evening gown, juggling my phone, coffee, and pens. The police came and questioned me and the staff, which lead to more chaos as most of my team of sheltered academics had never spoken to an officer before.

As the sun began to rise through the tinted windows of the lab, progress came more quickly. A report and description of the saboteur confirmed by several of the volunteers was filed. The volunteers were updated via email, and those whose devices had been tampered with willingly stopped by and returned their devices, which the police quickly took prints from. Marcella was healthy and stable, but being kept 24 hours for monitoring.

My engineers confirmed that the devices had all been altered in the same way: the tone had been modified in each one, changing the harmless sound waves into ones that malignantly affected the patients' brain. The new tone wasn't tailored to the individual like the project's had been; whoever had tampered with it had done so with just enough knowledge of Special physiology that they did damage with just one uniform sound. The corrupted waves forced the Paracortex - the area of the brain responsible for abilities - to continuously fire in such a way that the ability could never fully manifest, but wore down the neural pathways. It was the same result as starting a car but not releasing the key after the engine catches: the engine would continually try to turn over and fire, but couldn't ever fully start.

Dawn came and went, and eventually the sun began to set again.

Yawning, I dropped the phone into the pocket of my lab coat and checked my watch. "Oh, good lord, I've been awake for 36 hours," I muttered to myself, instantly reaching for my coffee cup, only to find it empty. Feeling very much like Jack Sparrow – "where has all the rum gone?" – I forced myself to stand and go to the kitchenette where my team kept the coffee maker, only to find the coffee pot empty as well. I'd sent everyone else home for sleep several hours before, which unfortunately meant I had only myself to blame for my sudden lack of caffeine. Realizing that we were out of coffee beans, I sighed and went back to my office.

The entire building was empty except for the two security guards that paroled the halls like clockwork. Every hour or so, they would knock on the doorframe of my office and poke a head in to check on me. I would always smile and wave and continue on with whatever phone call I was currently on. And I was always on the phone.

Once the immediate crisis had been more or less handled, there were bureaucratic issues I had to take care of. First was a call to the company's CEO, who had been understandably aggravated and had lectured me for a solid hour on taking security seriously. Then I'd had to talk to the building's IT department and ask them to both improve security and figure out how someone had found the volunteer's information, which had taken longer than expected as the department head vehemently denied the possibility of anyone breaching his "airtight firewall."

Then, Legal had called me, faxing over mountains of paperwork and I'd spent the next five hours signing and locating documents and transcripts for them. I'd had to find a courier to send them over, because in their words, they needed those forms yesterday if they were going to launch a plausible defense. After that, the IT department head had called me to tell me that there had indeed been a hacker – surprise, surprise – and that the hole he'd come in through had been fixed, but that they didn't know who he was. Of course, now that it was 8 pm on Sunday night, it was getting more and more difficult again to get people on the phone.

I looked up when there was a knock on my doorframe, expecting to see the night guard. To my surprise, Gabriel entered and frowned when he saw me still in my evening gown. "You haven't showered or slept since yesterday morning, have you?"

I was too tired to smile. "I took a twenty minute nap at noon. Is that coffee?"

He handed me one of the Starbucks cups he was holding. "Have you eaten at least?"

I took a swig of coffee, burning my tongue in the process. "I had twenty minutes. I prioritized."

He grimaced. "I'm taking you home. No, Hero. No arguments. I can see the symptoms of sleep deprivation." I raised my eyebrows in challenge, and he arched one of his in response to my doubt. "Your hands are trembling, your eyes are twitching spasming involuntarily, and I can see goose bumps on your skin indicating a decrease in body temperature."

I harrumphed grumpily. "Is it this obnoxious when I do that?"

His eyes narrowed. "I'm adding crankiness to the list. Come on, I'm putting you to bed before you collapse."

My protests fell on deaf ears as he more or less marched me out of the building and into his car. As he pulled out onto the road, the quiet of the car and the steady hum of the engine lulled me to sleep, and I only surfaced long enough to feel him carry me into the apartment building, strip off my gown, and tuck me in bed.