"Jericho?" Justice asked, "Are you able to guard her?"

Jericho nodded. He was nearing the end of his eight hour shift, but the other officers had mates. He didn't have anyone waiting for him. He could easily work another eight hours.

"I didn't mean that," Justice said,watching him closely, "Snow told me that you intervened in his interrogation. Can you remain detached and watch her?"

Jericho ground his teeth together, "I can handle it," he said, "I can remain professional with her, despite the fact that she hates us."

"Does she?" Justice asked.

Jericho stared at him. Apparently Justice had the same doubts that he and Snow were struggling with.

Justice shrugged, "Fuller is sending transport in the morning. Just make sure she stays out of trouble until then."

"Fuller?" Jericho asked, and then shut down his emotions. He didn't care if she was sent to Fuller. It shouldn't matter to him.

But…

She was so small and so young. She would not last in Fuller. She would be targeted by some of the worse inmates or she would kill herself. Jericho could see it slowly breaking her down until she felt she had nothing to live for.

"Fine," Jericho added quickly in case Justice could sense his inner conflict, "It's fine. I'll take care of her until morning."

Justice nodded and left him standing in the observation room. He watched Stephanie, or whoever she was. She still sat on the floor where Snow had left her. She'd pulled her legs up to her chest and rested her cheek on her knees. Every once in a while she would roll her shoulders, like she was trying to stretch, but she just sat there. He hated that his heart went out to her, it made him angry. If it was up to her, or what she claimed, he would be the one sitting in the cell.

Jericho rolled his own shoulders. Get your head on straight, he thought to himself and walked back into the interrogation room.

Stephanie looked up at him, "Hi," she said quietly, and all his intentions to stay detached went out the window.

"I'm transferring you to a cell," he said, "Don't resist."

"I won't," she said, as if reassuring him.

He helped her stand by gripping her upper arms. She weighed next to nothing, and if he'd grabbed her any harder, he probably could have launched her over his shoulder.

She stepped away from him after standing, but he kept a hand on her arm. He guided her outside of the room and down the hall. They went through an additional set of doors and began descending a flight of stairs before reaching the cells. Jericho had thought they were empty, but there was one person there, as well as an additional New Species guard whose job it was to be in charge of the cells.

"Jericho," Pounce, the feline male, said, "She can go here, next to the other prisoner."

Jericho looked into the cell of the other prisoner. It was a male, drunk by the smell of him, "Fuckin' animals!" the human yelled out, "Do you know who you're messin' with?"

The man caught sight of Jericho and jumped back, actually gripping the wall behind him as he tried to distance himself, "Get away from me!" he cried out, "Hey you! Animal!" he called to Pounce, "Get him away from me! He's a demon! Look at him! He's got red eyes!" The man started crying as he slid to the floor.

"Idiot," Pounce rolled his eyes.

Jericho shrugged, but couldn't help the embarrassment coursing through his body. He looked at the cell to which Pounce had pointed and realized that she would only be separated from the drunken human by a set of bars.

"Put her in one of the other cells," Jericho directed, "Not next to him."

Pounce shrugged, and walked down the hallway, leading them to the cells further down the hall.

As Stephanie walked by, the man stood up, "He-ro!" he called out, rushing to the cell door, "Hey baby. You give sucky sucky?" He grabbed his crotch and made kissing noises toward her.

Stephanie shrunk to the side, not making eye contacts, though Jericho could see her cheeks blossom with pink. He was right, she would never last at Fuller.

Pounce opened up the door to the cell and began calling out directions to Stephanie, each directive made her shrink further into herself, though she continued to follow each step. She moved until her back faced the door, and then, when Pounce ordered her to, she moved backward until her hands could grip the bars. He unlocked her handcuffs and then told her she could step away from the cell doors.

Jericho heard her breathing raggedly. She didn't turn around, and he saw her wiggling her fingers. Her arms were still pulled back a little bit, and she moved them forward, inch by inch. He realized that she'd been in those handcuffs for hours, and was probably so stiff that she couldn't move her arms without pain. He watched her struggle for a moment until he couldn't take it anymore.

"Come to the door," he told her.

He saw her take a deep breath before she wiped her face on her shoulder and turned around. She was crying, and she was in pain. Her fear and sadness was so sharp that Jericho could smell it, but she didn't say anything, just walked forward and stopped at the door.

"Turn around," he told her, his voice deeper and harsher than he intended.

She turned around, waiting. Something about the way she followed his directions without question, stirred a strange feeling inside him. He reached through the bars until he could touch her shoulder. He began to massage them, rubbing down her arms in order to restore blood flow and release some of the stiffness of her joints. He pressed hard, but not too hard, and she groaned. The sound went directly to Jericho's dick and he had to step back.

Stephanie pulled her arms forward, lifting one hand slowly so she could massage her shoulder, "Thank you," she said quietly, moving her other hand and massaging her other shoulder. She walked away toward the only wall that was solid. There was a metal bench in the cell: that was it. Jericho saw her glance at it as she walked by, and put her hand on it. She shivered and removed her hand quickly.

Then she went to the back wall, leaned against it, and then slowly slid to the ground. She didn't look at Jericho again.