Rae: Holy crap this was a long time updating... I am so sorry guys! I haven't had a lot of inspiration to do anything much after my grandfather died. See, this is why I don't do multi-chaptered stories; I never update them often enough! Towa, this is all your fault for throwing that damn bunny on the train after me. And yes, Thane is rubbing off on Heath. ;)

As it is, you guys get 2 chapters for the price of one, partly as an apology for the wait and partly because this chapter's only like 3000 words long. ._. Enjoy anyway! :D

Jazz studied the round he had in his hand with satisfaction. He, Wade and Percy had spent the rest of the day and most of the next night debating, drawing, planning, scrapping, prototyping and testing various bullets that could be created for the purpose he needed them for. Eventually they had come up with one round that seemed to work just fine all three times they shot one into a gelatine body substitute and the next three times they shot one into a hung pig they'd bought from a butcher's. The bullet disintegrated immediately after exiting the barrel, leaving only a small needle with a ring around it to stop it actually entering the victim entirely. The ring also contained the poison, which was released when all its momentum was halted upon contact with whatever the needle had hit. The needle had nowhere else to go in terms of forward direction, but the liquid did.

And the liquid... Jazz, for the most part, actually understood what the chemicals were and what each of them did; for example, silver nitrate worked as an antiseptic and anticoagulants stopped the blood thickening and clotting while in suspended animation. But it was the hydrogen sulphide that actually did most of the work. It acted like a substitute for oxygen; its main antagonist, you could say. It was produced naturally in the human body to help regulate metabolic rates, but by increasing the dosage enough it interfered with the oxygen uptake, binding itself to the oxygen receptors instead and slowing the metabolic systems of the body - mostly heart, breathing and brain functions. Core temperature could drop to roughly 48 degrees Fahrenheit and heart rate slowed to less than 10 beats a minute. Essentially, a forced and very deep hibernation state where the body is convinced the cells don't need oxygen and the organs become dormant.

Exposing whoever was hibernating to some form of oxygen or an oxidase would jump-start the metabolic process and bump off the hydrogen sulphide molecules due to sheer number. The H2S would be broken down, heart rate and respiratory systems would kick back into motion and the body's core temperature would rapidly increase back to where it should be, with no lasting side-effects to the neurological or physiological aspects. Dizziness and headache would be expected, but like Percy said: short term stuff. Better than actually being shot by a sniper bullet. Since exposure to an airborne oxygen mixture (normal air had too little to force the body back into a working state) would be too inefficient - breathing masks and tanks were far too obvious to lug around - the oxygen needed was put into a liquid form and could be hidden in a little pouch or pockets without raising suspicion.

Perfect ploy, really.

That fun bit over, however, all three of them were now creating as many of the rounds as they could, in sizes that fit both his handgun and his sniper rifle. Jasper would've been complaining he was bored stiff, could they do something else for a while by this point, if he wasn't acutely conscious this was all for his benefit and didn't have that new-found determination.

He rolled the round in his palm, admiring it for a second, before making a start on his next rifle bullet. Hopefully with these and his antidote no one else would die on his watch. Jazz absently made a mental note to divide the vials up into the 50 millilitre dosages it would take to counter his death-imitation-inducing bullets so they'd be ready and handy.

-x-

Adam shifted the reading glasses sitting neatly on his nose and lifted a mug containing a strong black coffee to take a sip of it, eyes never straying from scanning the article he had up on his monitor. He'd been looking up any files anyone had on the names Jazz mentioned to him to see what he could dig up about them. The answer was, not much. At the most he'd discovered that the three men making up Morgan's lead trine were of very similar heights, builds, fitness levels and general structure, so much so they could be long-lost brothers or something. Their whereabouts were currently unknown; they had all previously been in Michigan State police custody together for drunken disorderly, first degree assault and suspected homicide, but had managed to escape by the next morning. He also found out that Rumble and Frenzy had been arrested once on a DUI, but the car they were travelling back to the station in had mysteriously blown up. Both officers died and the twins just vanished.

The detective sighed, one cheek coming to rest in his palm while his other hand closed the file and searched for another one. He didn't bother with Morgan's, he knew what it contained almost by heart he'd read it that many times trying to find flaws in the bastard he could exploit. Shiv Corey had nothing to him except a Michigan driver's license; his record was spotless. If it wasn't for the license he might as well not exist at all. The same could be said for Morgan's apparent information specialist, if Jazz had actually got a last name out of the man. There were more than 8000 entries alone for the name 'Samuel', and over twice that for 'Sam', and that was just Michigan State; there was no way of knowing if Samuel was even from Michigan. For all they knew he and his brothers were from somewhere in Florida, or even out-of-country Russia. Adam clicked his teeth and growled in frustration, pulling his coffee towards him once more and draining a good portion of it. This was going to be another all-nighter with nothing to show for it, he just knew it.

-x-

Byron sauntered down the hallway bopping and humming along to the tune of Roxette's 'The Look' pouring from the earbuds of his MP3 player, turning the corner for the lobby when he spotted a figure leaning against the doorway of one of the tech labs. He paused, and then moved quietly up the olive-haired man apparently observing an oblivious Adam, removing one of his earphones. He didn't say anything and neither did Heath for some time, until finally the scout shifted and nodded in the detective's direction.

"I know him."

"I'd be worried if ya didn't know Prowl, man. Where you been the past few years?" prodded Byron, and Heath shot him an amusedly exasperated look.

"Not Prowl you aft. The one on the screen."

Byron peered in and found Adam scrutinizing the profile of a black-haired man with blue highlights streaking through it. A trendy look, Byron decided. Flashy, but decent. He liked it. He could just make out the name 'Mitchell' across the bottom of his mugshot, but the first name was lost to him. A hand on his arm made him look back at Heath, and he started at the rather pain-filled expression of the olive-haired man. "Heath? Man, what's wrong?"

"Thane's... not a bad guy. He doesn't want it, any of it." Heath crossed his arms over his stomach, glancing back at the screen, an uncertain gesture that generally meant someone was talking about or going to do something they really shouldn't and knew it. "He's just trying to find a way out, I know it."

"Maybe Jazz can give that to him." Byron shook his head and wrapped an arm around Heath's shoulders, guiding the scout away from the tech lab back to the lobby. "Look, ya can't get a hold of Jazz to tell him anythin' without riskin' his cover, but if Thane is only trying to find a way out then our boy may have an unexpected ally." Something about Heath's general aura made Byron suddenly click and put two and two together. "Ya didn't know he was part of Morgan's crew." It wasn't a question.

"No. Not until just now."

"Wow... geez man, I'm sorry." He squeezed the arm still slung over Heath's shoulders in reassurance. "Are you...?"

"I'm fine." A disbelieving look from the red-head, and the scout sighed. "I'll be fine. It's just a little disconcerting to find out a good friend of yours is in league with the man you've been trying to take down for as long as you've been on the force."

"I'll bet," was the quiet answer. "How about a drink tonight, then? My house. Might help in decidin' what you wanna do."

"I don't want to lose him," replied Heath adamantly, "but I'm afraid if I confront him about it I'll blow Jazz's cover wide open, and that won't be a good thing."

"Drinks it is, then," declared the red-haired comms officer, and he grabbed Heath's arm and dragged him back to the garage to Byron's car to weakly laughing protests by the scout, which were steadfastly ignored. They bundled into the Suzuki - or rather, Heath was shoved into shotgun unexpectedly and fell onto the seat flailing and Byron cackled at him as he slid smoothly into the driver's side - and set off back to Byron's flat.

-x-

The sound of Jazz's exceptionally loud ringtone - the Transformers Theme by Black Lab, causing an uncharacteristic giggle from Percy - made all four men jump, the silent trance-like reverie of their workspace shattered. Ryan glared at him, and Jazz shrugged apologetically before flipping it open without looking at the caller ID, stopping the surprisingly good-quality ringtone quite abruptly.

"Talk t' meh."

'Jazz? Where are you?'

A smile instantly lit up the saboteur's face, and his body relaxed as the worried, dulcet tones of his partner sounded through the tinny earpiece. "Prowler! Good t'hear yer voice man, yeh dunno how much I've missed it." He threw an amused glance at Wade when the scientist faked a gagging motion, flipping the bird briefly at him before drawing his attention back to the man waiting on the other end of the phone. "'M at th'labs. Me 'n th'guys have been workin' on th'ammunition fer m'guns."

'They... are incredibly quick. Done in what, two, three days? That's nigh on statistically possible, and yet somehow...'

"So was gettin' m'sight back, Prowler, 'n yet they managed that perfectly. I have four different kinds o' vision now, y'know."

'Stop teasing.' A pause. 'Miles, just how long have you been in that lab?'

"...'Bout 36 hours, give or take a couple. Why?"

There was a noise of annoyed exasperation on the other end. 'You're incorrigible! I'll be there in ten to pick you up. No arguments.' The phone clicked and the dial tone filled Jazz's ear as Adam hung up, and he laughed sheepishly, flipping his phone closed. He slid out of his chair, tossing a pair of clamps at Ryan as the surgeon snapped off a remark about being whipped. He ducked the wrench that came flying back, and when he looked back round he saw that Ryan's expression made it clear he would happily turn the moment into a tool-tossing competition, and enjoy it. 'And probably win by three-way K.O.' snickered Jazz to himself. He waved a hand in surrender; there was no way he was taking on a medic on his own turf.

Wade packed up the bullets they'd made so far into a small black case for him to take with him, and a smaller silver one pushed into Jazz's hands carried the vials of antidote. The saboteur helped himself to a syringe pump to measure out the dosages and hugged his three friends, thanking them heartily, if a bit loopily, for their help. Ryan shooed him out with the comment that he kept things interesting but to next time make the challenge harder, to several squawks of protest by Wade and Percy before the door closed. Jazz couldn't help the laughter that escaped him, and he was still laughing by the time he reached the lobby. He calmed down slightly after a couple minutes, and waited restlessly for Adam to arrive.

As soon as the detective entered the lobby doors Jazz hurried over to his partner and leapt on him with a hug, briefcases and all. It was a good thing the brunette was anticipating something of the sort otherwise they both would've fallen to the floor in an ungraceful heap. As it was Adam braced a foot back and let out an 'oof' as the saboteur collided with him. He embraced Jazz back as best he could until the lieutenant let go and scrambled down with a huge grin.

"Yeh have no idea how glad I am t'see yeh."

"I couldn't tell, you insane person," remarked Adam, sighing as Jazz's grin grew. "I'll bring you back to get your car after we've put something in that empty tank you call a stomach." The brunette lead the way back out the labs to his Datsun, getting more and more amused by how jittery and restless Jazz was. He literally bounced the entire way to the car, hands jerking around as though they didn't quite know what to do. Jasper sensed this and mock-glared at his partner.

"Yeh try spendin' over 24 hours with Wade 'n Perce 'n come outta it without bein' antsy 'n unscathed," he needled. Adam raised a hand in a surrendering gesture but sniggered when Jazz attempted to open his door, found it was still locked and poked at it impatiently until the relenting click of Adam's keyfob released the electronic catch. Jazz was in and seat belted before Adam could even start to open his door, and the detective just shook his head as he climbed in. This was going to be an interesting lunch date.

"So, what do you fancy?"

"Y'mean besides yeh?" smirked Jazz, poking his partner. Adam sent him a vexed but amused look as he backed out of the parking bay and gunned for the exit.

"Yes you hyperactive monkey, besides me. What do you want to eat?"

"Chinese. Or Mexican. Don' mind which."

"To El Pasada, then."

"Solid." Jazz leaned back in his seat and contented himself with looking out the window and trying to curb his restlessness, something he wasn't exceptionally amazing at but it was kept to a level where it would annoy Adam as little as possible. The drive to El Pasada was passed in relative silence, but it was a comfortable one. Neither of them found they needed to say anything so they didn't.

When they finally arrived at El Pasada Jazz shot out of the car like a bullet and was halfway to the restaurant doors when Adam stepped out of the driver's side. He raised an eyebrow coolly but was thoroughly entertained by the saboteur's antics, even if he wasn't showing it. Jazz was waiting for him impatiently at the doors so they could get a table together and Adam touched his hand when he reached him to try and calm him a little.

It seemed to work, if only slightly, and apparently even more when Jazz's hand slipped into his surreptitiously under the table they were led to and seated at by a chipper waiter. Adam squeezed it gently, and Jazz sent him a grateful smile, and then it struck Adam that he might actually be nervous. He now had everything he needed to infiltrate Morgan's gang and he only awaited the when and the where of the test. He didn't break the contact even as their waiter came over to take their orders, and when he left with the menus Adam reached over with his other hand and placed a finger under Jazz's chin, tipping it up so the saboteur's gaze locked with his. He smiled softly.

"It'll be alright, Jazz, you'll see. No one can touch you, not if you don't want them to. I know you're nervous and frankly so am I, but we'll get through it."

Jaz let out a gasp of air in a breathy laugh. "Why is it yeh always seem t'know what's going' on inside m'head, Prowl? It's scary, man."

"Because I know you," Adam replied, releasing his partner's chin with a chuckle. "I can recognize signs even if you can't." A pause. "Let me be there for you Jazz. You know you can't take this on alone, and I'm your partner. It's what partners do."

"Says th'man who didn't want a partner in th'first place," shot back Jazz, but it held no weight. He interlaced the fingers of their grasped hands under the table. "Prowl, gettin' yerself involved with this right now could put yeh in th'line o' fire, 'n that's th'last thing I want. Supportin' meh could jus' getcha killed." He held Adam's gaze steadily, searching. "I care 'bout yeh far too much t' let yeh get hurt."

"I won't," said Adam, though whether he was reassuring the dreadlocked man or himself he wasn't sure. "I promise." A cheeky glint flared in his eyes briefly, reflected in the smile he shot happily at Jazz. "I'm afraid you can't get rid of me that easily, Miles."

"Oh really? Is that a challenge I hear, Detective McCallen?" grinned Jazz, reaching over and running his fingertips gently down Adam's face.

"Maybe," was the sly answer, and Jazz's grin widened as Adam caught the hand tracing his face and kissed it softly. "And maybe not."

"Oh yer good," crooned the lieutenant, dragging out the 'good' delightedly.

"Oh I know."

-x-

Ryan ran a finger across his schedule to check when and who his next appointment was. Kelly Sandoval, tomorrow morning at nine. He pursed his lips briefly and glanced at the door, debating whether to go talk to Wade or not, but decided against it; the inventor was probably busy pouring over those blueprints he'd snaffled up right after Jazz left or something. Maybe with Percy. He huffed and went to his computer terminal instead, intending to do some more reports and file some of the crap he had laying around, but was interrupted by a comm buzz from the reception area.

He didn't have anyone coming to see him. Did he? He quelled a nervous surge that he'd forgotten to note a patron's appointment down and accepted the call.

"What?"

'Doctor Chester, there are two boys-' he heard some vocal protests in the background in voices he vaguely recognized; they were too faint to make out, '-who say they're friends of yours and want to see you. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, apparently. Should I-?'

Ryan started and stared bemused at the handset. The twins? What were they doing here, and why on earth were they using those nicknames? "No Tracy, send them in," he interrupted her. "They know where I am."

'Yes Doctor.' The receptionist's voice sounded extremely dubious, no doubt thinking the boys were a few sandwiches short of a picnic, but he didn't care; she didn't need to know how or why he knew them. He began clearing off his desk a bit and filing a couple papers and folders away before there was a sharp rap at the door and it opened before he could say 'come in'. He turned with a raised eyebrow to face the two 21-year-olds scuttling through the doorway, partly at the fact they didn't wait to be let in and partly in silent question as to what they were doing here.

"Hey Rai," said Sidam, raising a hand and waggling his fingers a little sheepishly. Sunny nodded to him amiably but didn't say anything, just helped himself to a chair and let his brother take over.

"What are you doing here? This is hardly what I call being in hiding," the surgeon said a little perplexedly. "If you're seen-"

"Oh give us more credit than that, Rai," chipped in Sunny a touch sourly. "We're better at what we do than you think."

Ryan shook his head. "No, I know how good you are. If you weren't that good you wouldn't've survived the injuries I had to patch up on you both when Jazz first brought you here." He paused, and then a small, sad smile touched his lips. "Can't I be concerned for you two?"

"We're touched," said Sidam dryly, but a roughened hand was placed on Ryan's forearm to let him know they were grateful for the worry even if they thought it was unnecessary. "Actually, we're here to ask a favor of you. A pretty big favour." The younger twin knew he was courting a touchy side of Ryan - the side that hated owing and taking favours more than almost anything - but they needed this and thus he didn't really care.

Ryan met pleading pale blue eyes for several seconds and then closed his own, pinching the bridge of his nose and expelling a lungful of air quite forcefully. "Alright. What?"

"We need somewhere to crash, somewhere Morgan won't think to look for us. We've been switching hotels and bunks every night because Shiv has managed to track us somehow and sent in the cavalry. We've stayed a step ahead of him until now, but to be frank it's tiring and we just want to settle down and get off this hectic runaway train we managed to board stupidly without buying a return ticket."

"And what makes you think he won't find you with me?" challenged Ryan, crossing his arms and setting his face to his 'I'm waiting!' glare.

"Because you're one of the most respected doctors and surgeons in the country with no findable connections to the underworld whatsoever. The only ones who know we know you are Percy, Wade and Jazz, and I'll be damned if they spill. None of the racket are going to suspect you of starting now, not when it could ruin your respected standing and distinction in the medical community."

"What Jazz knows his partner will too," added Sunny quickly, "but I don't think he'll tell either."

"No," agreed Ryan, "Adam's too straight and narrow for that."

"It also helps that a lot of the underworld have heard of you and your rep and are actually scared of you." Sidam couldn't help the cackle that escaped him as Ryan's face turned briefly murderous.

"My 'rep', Sides?"

"Yup. You and those hyposprays, experimentations, explosions and your throwing arm are damn scary!"

The surgeon lifted a rather hefty scalpel and waved it in the younger twin's face threateningly. "Would you like to test that last one, you slagging son of a glitch?" he growled, pleased to see Sidam flinch and back up a little with a gulp.

"No, I think I'm good thanks." He continued to eye the scalpel warily even after the medic set it down. "Geez, that last one was a joke. Rai, you need to lighten up."

Ryan fought the urge to facepalm and squared his shoulders, looking each twin in the eyes. "Alright, fine. You're with me. But," he added as Sidam hissed 'yes' and Sunny's visage brightened, "you're going to follow my rules in my house and none of my house-calling patients are to see you. You will come with me here to the labs because I don't trust you to go wandering off out the house if I leave you at home, and I don't need anyone here seeing you either and risk telling the wrong person. Wade and Percy are to be your only other interactees, alongside Jazz and Adam when they are here." He glowered at them, darkened eyes boring into theirs. "Am. I. Clear?"

Sidam shivered slightly but nodded furiously, and then subtly signed to his twin in the language they had made up years ago, 'You'd better be right about Jazz, and he'd better do it fast.'

Rae: My Sunny muse demanded some screen-time, which in turn caused Sides to do so as well, which in turn caused Ratchet to step out, throw a wrench at all three of us and screech at us to 'shut the frag up already'. And I was already planning on Heath having a scene in this, those three just decided to barge in anyway xDD

Oh, and in case you were wondering, yes the science behind the bullets is real and perfectly possible theoretically. It's never been forced or induced in a human being before, but it has occured a few times naturally :D