TEASER

Jess let herself into the flat above the bookstore with a deep sigh and a muffled curse. After the shift she had just had, covering for not one but two girls in the café who were down with the flu, she was looking forward to nothing more than a hot cup of tea and a relaxing bath.

"Kate, luv, you home?" she called, surprised to find the apartment dark.

No answer. Jess frowned, concerned for the younger woman until she remembered that Kate had made some annoyed comments over breakfast that she was expected to spend the day with her Aunt Marguerite at some family function or other.

"Poor Kate," Jess murmured, walking into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea.

She genuinely liked Kate Porter, and not just for her resemblance to Mel. It had been mostly that initially, she had to admit, but then Jess had come to know Kate on her own terms. And, in spite of eerily similar features, Kate was not Mel Porter, not by a long shot.

Jesse had always seen Mel as an inherently nervous woman, too inhibited for her own good, and quiet to the point of secrecy. Kate, on the other hand, was open and friendly, willing to state her own mind and to do what she wanted when she wanted to do it. And while not wild she was definitely outgoing. In spite of the differences, though, Jess no longer had even a little doubt that the two were related, and closely. They had the same gentle nature and quiet compassion. And the same streak of stubborn intensity that only reared its head when a loved one was in harm's way.

She really needed to speak with Mel soon and sort this out.

She put a kettle of water on the stove and leaned against the counter to wait, looking up at the sound of feet clambering up the stairs far more rapidly than was typical for Kate. Frowning, she left the kitchen and entered the hallway in time to see Kate almost slam the door and immediately throw the deadbolt. She leaned against the door, panting.

"Bloody hell, Kate, what happened?" Jess asked gently, steering the clearly rattled girl into the living room.

"Some bloke followed me home from the Underground," she muttered, shaking her head and taking a series of deep breaths to compose herself. Her father Mark had taught her that trick, controlling her mood with her breathing. "I'm fine, Jess. Just overreacted a bit." She looked up as the teakettle whistled. "You'd better get that," she suggested.

"Yeah. I'll bring you a cup, too. Then you'll tell me what happened and we'll call the police."

"Oh, hell, Jess, don't do that!" Kate protested as the older woman moved back into the kitchen. "They'll just think I'm just some hysterical kid." Rising, she followed Jess into the kitchen. "It's not like he's tried to hurt me yet..."

"Yet?" Jess repeated, handing her a cup of strong tea. "Wait," she added, reaching into a cabinet and pulling out a small bottle of brandy. "Don't tell your Aunt," she said with a wink, sloshing a little into Kate's tea. Adelaide and Maggie had both subscribed to the belief that a little brandy in your tea was just the thing to take the edge off.

"Like a few months one way or the other matters." Kate shook her head. "Thanks, Jess."

Jess nodded and grabbed her own cup of tea, steering Kate back into the living room. "Now tell me what's going on," she suggested as they settled down on the couch.

Kate stared into her tea, considering. "He never gets close," she began. "And if I start back in his direction, he's gone in a heartbeat. Never even seen his face. I'm not even sure that he knows that I know he's following me..."

"You're being stalked? How long has this been going on?" Jess asked gently, concerned. "And why didn't you ever tell me about it?"

Kate considered the first question. "Mmm... About six months, I guess. That's when I started noticing it. It just never really mattered to me before. I didn't feel threatened by him."

"But now you do?" Jess asked.

"I don't know, Jess." Kate shrugged helplessly, the gesture reminding Jess a lot of Mel's defeated shrug. "I just... I guess I just got spooked by how dark and empty the streets were."

"You guess?" Jess pressed gently.

Kate gave a noncommittal shrug, unwilling to tell Jess the real sequence of events, unsure what to make of it herself.

It had been a beautiful night, so she had decided to walk back to the Flames instead of taking a cab. In fact, it had been so nice that she had decided to take the scenic route, detouring through the University. Turning from an avenue with a little pedestrian traffic to one without a single person in sight, some warning from her 'sixth sense' had told her that something was amiss. Her father had always told her to trust her instincts, and she always took that advice to heart. It had saved her from more than one bad situation. Looking and listening, she had become aware of the sound of scuffing feet from a well-lit area that clearly had no one in it. Her 'stalker', as always trailing at least fifty meters behind, had shouted at her in a muffled voice to run. She had, too, better than a mile, not stopping until she reached the safety of the flat.

She was strangely reluctant to share any of it with Jess, especially the part about her 'sixth sense' kicking in. Mark Porter had always been adamant that she not discuss that with anyone, not even close family.

"I'm just going to go right to bed, Jess, okay?" Kate asked, draining her teacup.

"You going to be okay alone?" Jess asked gently.

"I'm not alone," Kate pointed out, rising. "You'll be in the next room."

"Come get me if you need anything, Kate," Jess told her, getting up as well. "I mean it. Even just a hug."

"One of those I could use." Kate laughed, but it was a shaky laugh.

Jess nodded and gathered Kate into her arms, holding her tightly for several minutes. "Come on, luv. Let's get you off to bed."

***

"Morning, Jess," Kate yawned, stumbling into the living room. Although still half-asleep, she was already dressed and ready for work as was her habit.

"You sleep okay?" Jess asked gently, immediately putting down her copy of the London Times and rising.

"I'd have slept better without you coming in to check on me every five minutes," Kate teased, shaking her head and walking into the kitchen. "I'm fine, Jess. Really."

"Okay, Kate. You're old enough and mature enough that I trust your judgment, but I don't want you going out alone after dark, okay?"

Kate hesitated for a moment, her need for independence vying with her common sense. "Fair enough, Jess. I won't," she promised, meaning it. Pouring herself a cup of coffee, she walked back into the living room and picked up a section of the paper that Jess had already discarded. "Anything interesting?" she asked, scanning through the headlines.

"Not really..." Jess shrugged. "There was a murder at the University last night," she noted offhandedly.

"Really?" Kate asked casually.

"Yeah. Broken neck of all things. Strange," she added before shrugging and becoming immersed in the paper once more.

"I'm going to go start inventory," Kate told her, using every ounce of self-control she could muster to maintain a calm façade until she was alone in the storage room of the Flames. Then she sank to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest and shaking.

END TEASER
ACT 1

"Hey, Vic," Mel greeted him. "How was your shift?"

"Don't ask," Vic suggested, shaking his head and sitting down at the bar.

"Scotch?" Mel guessed.

"Double," he told her, looking around cautiously. Satisfied that absolutely no one was even slightly interested in him or his discussion with Mel, he reached inside his jacket and pulled out a thick envelope.

Mel accepted it and slipped it into her apron without commenting or looking like anything was amiss. Handing Vic his drink, she leaned on the bar. "What's going on?" she asked quietly.

"Other than the fact that I just broke a few federal laws giving you that?" Vic muttered, shaking his head.

Mel's eyes widened faintly. "What is it?"

"Phone records. Zin's." He hesitated. "I have connections," he began.

"I know. That's why we're so grateful for your help," Mel told him, covering his hand with one of hers.

"I've got a pal at Interpol checking it out for me, but it could take awhile. What we do know right now is that Zin's company is in constant contact with London, Mel."

Mel frowned faintly. "How constant?"

"Half dozen calls a day that we can trace. Maybe more that we can't."

"Where did you get these, Vic?"

He hesitated. "I have a friend in the FBI's local field-office. They're investigating them, too, now. Under the RICO statute." Vic paused again, drawing a deep breath. "Look, Mel, she really went out on a limb to get me these records..."

Mel nodded faintly. He looked incredibly concerned when he spoke about his friend with the Bureau. "I understand. If it comes down to it, your name will not be mentioned. Which should keep your friend safe."

His nod was shaky, but his smile was genuine. "I appreciate it, Mel."

She smiled and nodded. "We're not going to let you down, Vic. We don't want you getting in trouble for helping us. Not you, and not any of your friends."

Vic nodded, then wearily asked, "How do you do it, Mel?"

"I just... do." She shrugged. "Hard to know and not do anything, you know?"

He nodded. "I know." Throwing back his drink in one long gulp, he paid her and rose. "I need to run. I have a... meeting."

"You take care of yourself, Vic." Mel smiled warmly at him. "We appreciate it, you know. We really do."

Vic could not help but smile in response to her smile. "You take care, too, sweetie." Grinning and winking at her, he left.

Mel smiled and shook her head. "Meeting my ass," she murmured, grinning and wondering about Vic's lady-friend at the FBI. She would have bet on it at ten to one odds: Vic had a date.

She was not above seeing the value in Vic finding a woman other than herself to take up his attention. They would always be friends, she knew, but it was past time for Vic to let her go as anything more. Maybe a new woman could allow him to do that. She hoped so, not so much for her own sake as for his. His obsession with Mel and her relationship with Cole had been gnawing at him for a long time. If he continued in that way, it would eat him alive.

"Maggie, you mind if I go upstairs for a bit?" Mel asked.

Maggie had not missed Vic passing the envelope to Mel, and she nodded. "You do that, dear. I'll send Cole on up if he gets back before you're done."

Mel grinned and nodded. "Thanks, Maggie."

"You're welcome."

Mel hurried up the stairs and sank on to the living room couch, pulling the envelope out of her apron and removing its contents. Vic had given her almost a dozen photocopies, bearing nothing more than phone-number after phone-number, tightly packed and in tiny print. She recognized some of the prefixes as local to Chicago. Others, from her occasional contacts with Jess, she recognized as London prefixes. There were others that she simply could not place. She would have to have Cole look them up.

Grabbing a marker, she began highlighting the ones that she knew for a fact were London-based. The rest would have to be checked, she supposed, but it was not lost on her that the preponderance of numbers that Zin's people had called in the last month WERE in London.

"What are you guys up to?" she murmured, staring at the papers. Shaking her head, she dropped them onto the coffee table.

Nestov's earlier warning recurred to her. Haag was moving people into Chicago. But, just perhaps, something else was going on as well. There was more than one Vault, more than one piece of the weapon, each in a unique location. Maybe Zin had situated Haag's group in England for a reason. Maybe one of the components of the weapon was hidden there somewhere.

"But where?" she whispered.

"Where what, Mel?" a familiar voice inquired.

"Cole!" Mel exclaimed, jumping up and wrapping her arms around him.

The Cirronian smiled in response to her enthusiastic greeting. "Hello, Mel," he greeted her, cheered as always by her mere presence. Holding her in his arms was an added bonus. He hugged her tightly for a long moment, pleased that she made absolutely no move to pull away. "I'm sorry I was away for so long. My fugitive was far more elusive than I thought she would be... I couldn't find her."

"I was worried," she admitted, burying her face in his shoulder.

Cole tightened his gentle hold on her. "I'm sorry, Mel. I missed you."

She looked up at him with wide eyes. "You did?"

He smiled warmly and nodded. "I always miss you when I am away, Mel."

She smiled and rested her hand against his heart. "Likewise."

His smile widened as he brought his hand to rest over her heart and touched his forehead to hers. "Were you okay while I was gone?"

Mel closed her eyes and leaned into him, returning the Cirronian gesture with a hand over his heart. "We managed. No fugitives tried anything."

"I'm glad." Cole closed his eyes and held her close. He could not bear to think of her in danger from the fugitives because of him.

Mel could feel the tension between them growing and she reluctantly pulled away. "Vic was here."

"Vic?" Cole asked, ignoring his body's objections to her abrupt withdraw.

She nodded and handed him the phone records. "Apparently Zin's people have been in pretty constant contact with London."

"Haag," Cole murmured.

Mel nodded faintly. "I guess so. Vic had a friend at Interpol checking it out."

"That's good, Mel. I..." He bowed his head. "I hadn't even thought of London since I came back," he confessed quietly.

"NOT your fault," Mel told him gently. "Cole..."

"I was so wrapped up in keeping you from harm..." He shook his head. "We may have to go to London again," he told her. "Or maybe you should stay in Chicago," he added, indecisive.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Let's see what Vic's friend has to say first," Mel suggested.

Cole smiled and nodded. "You're right, Mel. You usually are."

She grinned. "So, you didn't find her?" she asked.

Cole shook his head. "No, Mel, but I think I might be getting close."

Cole sat down and began describing his most recent Track to her and, for a few hours, their combined troubles were forgotten and they were the only two souls in the universe.

***

"You okay, Kate?" Jess asked, during a lull between customers. "You seem... off."

"Yeah, an entire day with Aunt Marguerite and her side of the family does that to a girl. I swear to you, Jess, my mom was as normal as those people come, and that's saying an awful lot." Kate chuckled and shook her head. "No big deal, Jess," she assured her.

"You sure? You're not still upset about last night?"

"What happened last night?" a sharp voice demanded as Aunt Marguerite made her presence known.

Jess winced. In a very short time she had grown to hate this harridan almost as much as Kate herself did. Not only was her mere presence as unsettling as hell, but the older woman obviously despised Kate, yet she still tried to keep a jealous hold over her. It was not lost on Jess that Marguerite stood to lose control of a substantial amount of money when Kate turned 18 in a few months. Not that she did not have money of her own to spare, but Jess could not help but wonder if that were part of Marguerite's desire to continue dominating every aspect of Kate's life. Certainly it had nothing to do with filial affection, yet she persisted. And in the process she made Kate and everyone who called her a friend absolutely miserable.

"Oh, Jess and I had a row. It was nothing," Kate assured her easily.

Normally Kate hated lying. With Marguerite, she actually enjoyed it. Keeping her Aunt in the dark was actually rather liberating. The woman had tried to control every aspect of her life since her parents had died. It was just nice to have some secrets from her. Not that Kate was exactly happy about her current secret, but she knew that Marguerite would have made a scene at the very least. At worst, she would demand that Kate come live with her again. She may not have liked having Kate in her home, but she had also been less than happy with her departure to live with 'some lowbrow, Cockney bar-wench'. Both young women had been sent into gales of hysterical laughter over that comment. Marguerite had been less amused.

To the surprise of neither Jess nor Kate, Marguerite immediately said, "If you aren't getting along, Kate, you should come back home."

Kate bit back a response to the effect that THIS was her home, not the household of some bitter, domineering woman to whom she was related only by an accident of genetics. 'Proper' young women simply did not say such things. It would only be a few more months, she reminded herself firmly. No reason to unduly antagonize her legal guardian in the meantime.

"Flat-mates have rows occasionally, Aunt," she pointed out instead, keeping her voice mild. "I still find Jessica acceptable to the purpose."

Marguerite's eyes narrowed. Jess did her best not to smirk. When she realized that she was on the verge of failing miserably, she turned on the pretext of straightening the bottles of flavored syrup that went into the coffee. Knowing that Kate could sometimes be almost as conciliatory as Mel, though, she stayed close by, ready to stand up to Kate's Aunt if Kate herself could not.

"If you aren't getting along, you should find a new flat-mate," Marguerite told her firmly.

Kate smiled faintly, unable to resist. Marguerite could feel her control slipping and it showed.

"Oh, Jessica and I get along just swimmingly," Kate assured her in a falsely cheerful voice. Clearing her throat and adopting her 'professional voice', Kate continued, "Did you need something, Aunt, or did you just drop by to say hello?"

"Just visiting," Marguerite told her in a tight voice. "You, Jessica! Get me a latte."

Jess smiled widely, taking a moment to assume a straight face before turning and nodding. "Yes, ma'am," she said in an appropriately subservient tone, earning herself a wink and grin from Kate.

END ACT 1
ACT 2

As Marguerite stalked off, clutching her latte so tightly that Jess was sure that the paper cup would not survive to the door, Kate heaved a sigh of relief.

"Thanks for the moral support, Jess," she murmured, pouring herself a cup of Chai.

"Is that what it was? And here I thought I was just hovering and eavesdropping a bit," she teased, grinning. "How did you put up with her for so long?"

"Nearly went quite mad more than once." Kate shrugged. "Fortunately, she loses interest in projects easily. Including me."

"Doesn't look to me like she's lost interest in you," Jess remarked quietly.

Kate shook her head. "What she hasn't lost interest in yet is my Trust Fund. And you're smart enough to know it, too, Jess."

"Not my place to have said anything." Jess shrugged. "I just work here," she added, grinning.

Kate leaned against the counter, shaking her head. "If you think that, you've missed the point. You're my friend, Jess. You are."

"I know, Kate." Jess grinned at her and patted her shoulder. "And you're mine. But, no offense, your Aunt gives me the willies."

"She does have that effect, doesn't she?" Kate asked quietly. The 'sixth sense' that occasionally warned her of danger started buzzing every time her Aunt walked into the room. She looked up as a customer came up to the counter. "Can we talk about this later?" she asked Jess.

Seeing that the girl had obviously not said everything that she wanted to, Jess nodded. "Yeah, we'll discuss it after shift."

"Thanks." Kate spared her a brief smile before turning to the customer. "Can I help you?"

***

Cole and Mel had gone through the list of phone-numbers and condensed it, listing each number only once, along with the number of times it had been called and the city it was for. After that, he had sorted them by region, breaking the condensed list into several smaller ones. While Chicago and London were the most frequently contacted, there had been multiple calls placed all over the world.

"Where is... Cairo, Mel?" Cole asked, stumbling over the name.

"It's in Egypt," she provided. "You know, where the pyramids are."

He nodded faintly and scratched a Cirronian glyph on the list next to that number.

"There are lots quite a few calls here to the American Southwest," Mel noted quietly.

Cole nodded. "Wahote says that their operation there is not extensive, but they ARE looking for something."

"But what?" Mel asked.

"I don't think there would be another Vault there, so close to this one, but... maybe a map?"

"Not another Key?"

Cole shook his head. "Too close to the one we retrieved. They wouldn't want them close together. Honestly, I don't know why they have both a Vault and a Key on one continent."

"So where did my grandmother's come from?"

"Europe, probably," Cole told her, shrugging. "Maybe this Egypt. It's probably been in your family for hundreds of years by now. Maybe longer."

"Oh." She nodded and picked up the list again. "God, they have contacts all over the world," she whispered. "Cole, this is..."

"Not good. I know." Cole nodded faintly.

Mel closed her eyes and bowed her head, not looking at him as she whispered, "Vic has a friend with Interpol."

"Mel..."

She looked up, startled by the quiet fear in his pleading whisper.

"The government, your government... Any of them, ALL of them. If you tell them that there is an army of alien criminals on Earth, they will mobilize," he told her quietly. "And they may not make a distinction between friend and foe..."

Recalling how withdrawn and subdued Cole had been after his first capture by her government, Mel thought she could understand his fear. She was not prepared for his next words.

"I can't put you in that kind of danger, Mel."

"Me?" she repeated, blinking.

"You are not entirely human, either, Mel." He cradled her face in his hands. "The people who captured me before would have cut me apart to see what made me work, what made me different. You are different as well..." No mention of the torture; he could not put that fear into her, but he had to make her understand the danger. "They would make you a prisoner, study you... Mel, I was able to escape by luck and by using my powers. You can't always control Hyperspeed yet and you still can't climb walls or use your energy for offense."

"But I am learning," she pointed out. "I know you're worried about me, but the human authorities could help, Cole."

He shook his head firmly. "No, Mel. I've never refused you anything before now, but no. I won't allow it."

Mel frowned. Cole had never dismissed a suggestion of hers outright. He had definitely never told her what she could and could not do before. Every other man she had dated in her life, even Vic and Rod in their own little ways, but never Cole. Irritated by the uncharacteristic behavior, she rebelled.

"You can't stop me if I decide to go to them, Cole," she pointed out.

"NO, MEL!" he shouted, grabbing her shoulders. "Look at me," he ordered. "Look at me!"

Startled and a little frightened by his abrupt shift in mood and by his uncharacteristic behavior, Mel slowly looked up at him. She was amazed by the love and the pain she saw in those amazing eyes of his. There was fear, too, more than she had ever seen from the normally stoic Tracker, more than she had ever felt herself. And he was crying.

"I will not lose you," he whispered, shaking his head. "I won't. I... I can't, Mel. Mel, Please..."

Feeling as if her heart might break, Mel reached up and wiped away his tears. "You won't, I promise," she whispered, dropping her hand to his throat and gently stroking. "You're probably right about how they'd react, but it doesn't mean that some human authorities can't help. Like Vic and his friends are..."

Cole closed his eyes and nodded, letting the feel of her cool fingertips brushing across his skin soothe away some of his fear. "Yes, Mel," he breathed, an affirmation that had nothing to do with her words.

Mel closed her own eyes and quickly silenced her conscience, which was growing more annoying with each passing day. Smiling faintly, she reached up with her other hand as well and continued stroking his throat, wanting to comfort him as he so frequently comforted her. Whatever else may have been true of their relationship, they could always count on each other for comfort and support. Of course, she reflected as she felt his hands on her own throat, comforting or not, this Cirronian gesture had certain other effects on human bodies.

She hesitantly opened her eyes, not sure she was prepared for what she would see. She found herself staring into his, almost getting lost in those chocolaty depths. The pain and fear were gone, but the love remained, coupled with a healthy dose of desire. Her heart lodged itself in her throat and her stomach lurched. Her mind was shouting at her to pull away, and she genuinely wanted to, to respect their agreement, but she seemed to have temporarily lost all motor-control.

Cole leaned towards her, resting his forehead against hers. "I'm sorry I raised my voice, Mel," he murmured. "It was unforgivable..."

"It's okay. It's not your fault. You were scared and upset and I really wasn't thinking," she assured him, still making no move to pull away. She could not have if she had wanted to. "Cole," she began, reaching up and touching his cheek. "I--"

They jumped apart at the sound of someone knocking on the apartment door. Bright red, Mel rose and fled in the direction of her room. Staring after her wistfully for a moment, Cole rose to see who was there.

"Vic," he greeted the Detective, ushering him inside. "Thank you for the list. I think it's going to be very helpful."

"Yeah?" Vic asked, nodding. "Great, that's great. I'd hate to think that... that my friend... uh..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "Well, it's... I've put her in a pretty tenuous position, Cole. She could get in serious trouble and she's doing this for me on blind faith."

"Her faith is not misplaced," Cole assured Vic quietly. "And neither is yours."

Vic nodded faintly. "I know, I know. I just..."

"You worry about your friends. I understand." Cole smiled gently at him. "It's a good thing, Vic," he added as they entered the living room. "Caring about your friends... Where I come from, they say that this compassion is what separates people from animals."

"You have many friends back there?" Vic asked suddenly. "Where you come from?"

Cole smiled faintly and nodded. "Not MANY, but several close ones. There is Nallyn, my sister in law, and Eijan, the woman who trained me, and Kallissa whom I worked with for several years on Cirron, and Bendal, and a handful of others... Each is more precious to me than my own life."

"And Mel?" Vic asked quietly, not looking at Cole.

"What do you want to hear? That I care? That I DON'T?" Cole sighed and shook his head. "Vic, of COURSE I care about Mel. She is impossible to know and NOT care about. You know that as well as I do." He fell silent and waited for the human Detective to look at him. When Vic had, Cole spoke again, feeling that the words needed to be said. "Our relationship has never been what you think it is, Vic. I never aspired to be your rival while you were dating Mel and Mel never saw me as one. To say that she did or that she left you because of me is to insult her."

Vic flushed, embarrassed. Cole was right and he knew it. Mel was not that kind of woman. He nodded, not quite able to speak. "What do you want, Cole? From this... association of ours?"

"For us to help each other the ways cops are supposed to. And I would like to be your friend, Vic. This would make Mel very happy, I think."

Vic inhaled deeply. "My friendship is earned."

"I understand. Will you give me that chance?"

Vic slowly extended his hand. "Mel gets hurt because of you and I'm still going to hunt you down," he told Cole firmly.

Cole grasped Vic's hand gently. "I would defend her life with my own, Vic," he assured the Detective.

"Hey, Vic," Mel greeted him as she returned to the living room.

"Hey, Mel." Vic smiled at her.

"What's up, Vic?" Mel asked.

"I just wanted to drop by, let you know that my friend at Interpol is looking into Zin's corporation and their overseas dealings."

Cole nodded. "Thank you, Vic. We appreciate it. I have my hands so full in Chicago that it's hard to turn my attention elsewhere for long."

"I'll bet," Vic agreed. "Maybe you should--"

"Not an option, Vic," Mel told him gently, shaking her head before he could finish.

Vic blinked. "Why not? The resources of--"

"Secrecy from the government keeps us safe," Mel told him simply. She glanced at Cole. "Why don't you get back to those lists?" she suggested, taking Vic by the arm and steering him into the kitchen.

As she was outlining Cole's last run-in with the government, Cole asked, "What's in... Switzerland?"

A little thrown by the abrupt question, Mel considered. "Uh, chocolate... Watchmakers..."

"Bankers," Vic murmured.

"Right!" Mel nodded immediately. "They must have a Swiss bank account," she told Cole.

"How do we find out if any of these numbers are for banks?" Cole asked.

"Call and see?" Mel suggested, trying not to think about what her next phone-bill was going to look like.

"Most of them speak English, but if you don't want to be identified as American, you need to speak French or German," Vic said, shaking his head. "Give me the numbers, Cole. I'll get back to you by tonight."

"I thought you said it would take awhile," Mel said.

"For private numbers, yeah. She was out on a limb even thinking of helping me there, but this bears on a pending investigation. We've been looking at Zin on RICO charges for a long time now. Swiss bank accounts... Those would definitely apply under that." Nodding, Vic accepted a sheet of paper from Cole. "I'll get on this," he announced, leaving at a half-run.

END ACT 2
ACT 3

Jess entered the flat to the sound of shouting.

"My bookstore, my bloody call!"

"Kate?" she called, concerned.

"Yeah, whatever. Bye," Kate's voice filtered into the hall. Jess heard a phone being slammed into its cradle then, "Living room, Jess."

Jess blinked at how much calmer Kate sounded than she had a few seconds ago.

"Everything okay, Kate?" she asked, joining the girl in the living room.

Kate made an exasperated face and shook her head. "It was HER..."

"Ah." Jess nodded knowingly. "Want to talk about it?"

"She wants me to sell the bookstore." Kate shook her head in disgust. "Like hell."

"Why would she care one way or the other?" Jess asked, frowning.

"Because her Real Estate company is the one that received the offer. Big profit in it for her."

"So she's trying to browbeat you into selling?" Jess demanded. "Kate, that's disgusting!"

"That's my Aunt," Kate replied, shrugging. "Can't believe she thought I'd consider it. I mean, hell... anything else. Just not this place," she muttered, dropping on to the couch.

"Why, Kate?" Jess asked gently, sitting down next to her.

"You promise not to laugh?" Kate asked, not looking at Jess.

"Kate, when have I ever laughed at you?"

Kate laughed once and shrugged, smiling up at Jess. "You're right, I'm sorry. She laughed."

"She would," Jess scoffed, shaking her head.

"You don't even know what I'm going to say."

Jess smiled faintly. "Sure I do, Kate. This place is important to you. It has more meaning to you than the money it makes and you'd keep it no matter how long it ran in the red or how much you could make by selling."

Kate's eyes widened slightly. "How'd you know?"

"I had a friend in the States, felt the same way about her business. It wasn't just a business, it was her home. It had history. Her history."

Kate nodded and Jess wondered if she was really that different from Mel after all.

Kate sighed deeply. "It was my Dad's. I can't sell. He wouldn't approve. And even if I thought he would, I still wouldn't. It means too much, you know?"

Jess nodded faintly. "I think I do," she murmured. "What was he like, Kate?"

"He was... he loved me." Kate shrugged. "He taught me how to be the best person I could possibly be, a better one than I thought possible. He saw something in me that I didn't see in myself and then he made me realize it."

Jess closed her eyes, thinking of the first time she had met Adelaide. It had been exactly the same. She had seen something in Jess that Jess had not recognized in herself. Like her granddaughter Mel, Adelaide was in the habit of picking up and sheltering strays. Without that amazing old woman, she would have starved to death on the streets of Chicago. If she had not frozen to death first.

~~~~~

She had stumbled into the bar without enough money to buy anything, thinking only to spend a few minutes in the threshold getting warm. When an older woman in a bar-apron approached her, she fully expected to be tufted out on her bum. What she was NOT expecting was for the old woman to take her by the arm and steer her into the bar proper.

"You look cold, dear. Come with me."

Adelaide brought her upstairs and pointed her towards the shower, her first in days. Jessica scrubbed until the dirt and grime were gone and kept on scrubbing against her own sense of inadequacy. Everyone she had ever cared about had abandoned her: first her mother, then her father, then Ewan. The only explanation was that there was something wrong with her. She was worthless, trash to be discarded at will. Crying in a strange bathroom, she scrubbed until her skin was red and raw and kept right on going until a gentle voice intruded.

"Experts generally recommend that you leave at least some skin, dear..."

Jessica climbed out of the shower then, more than a little anxious. The old woman seemed nice enough, but street-smart city girls either learned that looks could be deceiving or they had a habit of ending up dead. Usually it was the men you had to worry about, admittedly, but there were always exceptions. Wrapped only in a towel, and feeling incredibly vulnerable, she quickly grabbed at her clothes, wanting to get them back on in spite of the fact that they had not been washed since before her last shower.

"Not those, dear. They're filthy." Adelaide gently shook her head and handed Jess a clean pair of jeans and a sweatshirt along with underwear and a pair of wool socks. "My granddaughter's," she explained, leaving Jessica to dress and taking her old clothes with her.

A few minutes later, Jessica tentatively emerged from the bathroom, freshly scrubbed and dressed in clothes that were a bit long but clean and comfortable and, most importantly, warm. She half-expected the charity to end there, and was already steeling herself to face the cold outside again.

Then came the question. "When's the last time you ate, dear?"

Jessica stared at her with wide, uncertain eyes. "I... uh... this morning."

Adelaide's disapproval was obvious as she sternly told the girl, "You don't lie well, child. Tell me the truth."

"Three days, more or less, I think," Jessica said softly. "I really can't remember. I... I kind of got stranded here, you see..."

"Three days? We'll start with some chicken soup, then. I don't think your stomach could handle much more. Come on." Taking Jessica by the arm, she led her into the living room and pointed to the couch. "Sit," she directed, picking up the phone. Dialing, she spoke, "Maggie, be a dear, and bring our guest up a big bowl of chicken soup and some toast. Thanks." She put the phone down again and sat down next to Jessica. "You got stranded? What happened?"

"I... uh..."

Jessica fully intended to lie. Anything but the embarrassing truth. Part of her fully believed that once this woman knew exactly how worthless she really was, she would be kicked out again. Except that, looking this kindly old woman in the eyes, she could not lie to her.

She found herself crying before she could stop herself. "Oh, bloody hell, I'm sorry... It's just that he left me here and he said he'd be back, but he didn't come and I couldn't afford the hotel room any more and he had the plane tickets and..."

Adelaide gently hushed her then and held her in her arms until the tears were gone. "Let's get some food in you, okay?" she suggested finally. "It'll make a world of difference, I promise you."

Jessica was surprised to see a steaming bowl of soup sitting on the kitchen counter. Obviously this 'Maggie' person had come and gone while she was crying. She started to eat ravenously, but Adelaide forced her to eat more slowly so as not to shock her food-deprived stomach into rebellion.

Halfway through her second bowl, Jessica looked up at Adelaide with wide eyes and hesitantly asked, "Why are you doing this? You don't even know me."

Adelaide considered for a moment. "Then why don't you tell me who you are."

Startled, she replied in an unsteady voice. "My name's Jessica. I'm from--"

"No, Jess," she interrupted gently. "Tell me who you are," she repeated firmly.

Jessica shook her head in confusion. "I'm... I'm nobody."

The old woman frowned. "How long have you been living on the streets, Jess?"

"On and off since I was fifteen." Jessica did not mention her habit of sleeping with men simply to have a warm place to stay and, thankfully, the old woman did not ask.

"Where are you from, honey?"

"London."

"Do you have anyone there?" That question, like all the previous ones, was delivered in a calm, gentle voice that made it impossible to tell anything but the truth.

"No. My dad kicked me out when I was fifteen and Ewan... my boyfriend..."

"He left you here?"

"Yeah." Jessica nodded weakly.

"How old are you, Jess?"

She froze. The last time she had honestly answered THAT question, she had ended up in an abusive foster home. Of course, she was not a child any more, either, and no one could MAKE her stay anywhere. "Twenty one."

"Good." Adelaide nodded, smiling. "That makes you old enough to work here."

Jessica's eyes widened. "You want to give me a job? You don't even know me."

"Yes, I do, Jess." Adelaide nodded gently. "You're a good woman with a good heart. What else matters?" She paused. "Other than getting you a Visa? I'll have to make some calls, but it shouldn't take long. And you can stay here until you find a place. I have a spare room."

"But why?" Jessica whispered, confused by this altruism from a complete stranger. It was completely outside her experience.

Confusing as it was, though, she had no doubt that it was genuine altruism. She liked this old woman. She liked the name, too: 'Jess'. To everyone else, she had always been 'Jessie' and the name had more than its share of unpleasant memories associated with it. But Jess... That was a new name, fresh, free of baggage. It was a good name, strong. She felt it just one more gift from this amazing woman.

"Why?" she repeated.

Adelaide's answer had been both gentle and firm. "Because, believe it or not, you have worth."

~~~~~

Jess smiled faintly at the sweet memory, shaking her head. "Made you realize your own self-worth kicking and screaming, did he?"

Kate smiled and nodded. "That's exactly what he did, Jess. Your dad do that for you, too?" she asked. Judging by Jess' reaction, someone had.

"Nah. Someone else." Jess had never told the full story to anyone; not even Mel knew it. Yet she somehow felt comfortable sharing it with Kate. "An old woman who didn't know me from Eve. Took me off the street, gave me a job and a place to stay until I could find my own. And then she built my self-esteem up one brick at a time."

Kate smiled. "Sounds like the kind of thing my Dad would do. Claimed it ran in the family..."

Jess blinked. Adelaide, Mel, Kate's father... "When did he die, Kate?" she asked quietly.

Adelaide's son, Mel's absentee father, had died just over two years ago, not long after Adelaide had taken her in. Jess remembered how composed the old woman had been, offering quiet comfort to her distraught granddaughter instead of mourning herself.

"Just over two years ago. I was fifteen."

Jess nodded, no longer particularly surprised. Sisters, they were sisters...

She really needed to call Mel.

END ACT 3
ACT 4

The bar was bustling and Cole was out hunting his fugitive again. Mel immersed herself in work, trying not to think about what the fugitives wanted in London. Jess had become her best friend in a very short time and, when she had left for London, Mel had comforted herself that Jess would at least be safe there. Except now it was possible that London was just as dangerous as Chicago.

She had written Jess a letter a few days ago, casual and chatty: congratulating her on her new job managing some coffee shop, talking about the foul weather, saying how much they both missed her, sending Cole's love especially, and talking about possibly visiting again soon if Jess was open to the idea. Maybe it was time for another phone call. Maybe she should warn Jess to be careful... She would talk to Cole about it after he got back, she decided.

Of course, Jess was not the only person in London that Mel loved. Estranged or not, she had a sister there. Absently drawing up several pitchers of beer, she tried to remember how old Kate would be by now. Sixteen, seventeen: somewhere in that range, she thought. Still a child, dependent on others... Maybe it was time to reestablish that connection as well.

When her father died, there had been talk of Kate coming to live with Mel. Mel had not exactly loved the idea of getting saddled with a teenager at 26, but she would have taken good care of Kate without a moment's hesitation. Kate was her sister and Mel loved her. Mel was good at taking care of people who needed it. Adelaide had always claimed it ran in the family.

She had actually started to look forward to the idea of having her sister with her when the phone call had come. London was Kate's home; it was where her life was. It was where she wanted to stay. Mel supposed that she could have fought to gain custody of Kate, but she doubted she could have done so without alienating the girl completely. Of course, they had talked on the phone ONCE since, so maybe it would not have made a difference. Maybe Kate hated her for not fighting to gain custody. Maybe she just saw no reason to stay in contact with some stranger an ocean away. Until now, Mel had not pushed. Now she was beginning to wonder if she should.

"Mel, you okay?" Gail asked, stepping around her with a fully-laden tray. "You don't look so good."

Mel forced a smile and took her mind off of Jess and Kate. "I'm fine, Gail," she assured her, picking up her own tray full of beers and carrying it to a nearby table.

Cole had her practicing her Cirronian powers on an almost daily basis, and one of his favorite exercises was to walk up to her in a crowded barroom and ask her to describe the number and gender of people sitting at a specific table, without letting her look. Of course, to do that she had to be able to sense their life-forces, and not get confused by the profusion of OTHER life-forces present in the bar. She knew that he was trying to make the process of sensing life-forces instinctive for her, to better protect her from the fugitives, but it was not coming easy. Except that there were certain people that she could unerringly have found, blindfolded and in a crowded room. Cole, Jonas, Vic, Maggie... probably Jess, come to think of it.

The upshot was that she was immediately aware whenever one of these people entered the Watchfire, no matter where in the bar she was or what she was doing.

Mel smiled faintly at a familiar awareness at the edge of her consciousness. "Enjoy your drinks," she told the people at the table, smiling at them and then hurrying across the bar. "Hey, Vic," she greeted him.

He blinked, surprised that she had noticed him so quickly in a crowd this size. "Mel, hey." He looked around. "Cole here?"

"No." She shook her head faintly. "He should be back soon, though, or I can..."

Vic nodded faintly. "We need to talk." He looked around. "Little busy for that, I guess."

"It's the dinnertime crowd. Look, let me get you a drink. Things should slow down here pretty quickly. Then we can talk."

"Great." Vic nodded and made his way to the bar. As Mel handed him his drink, he caught her hand. "Look, Mel," he began.

Mel blinked, startled by his tone. "What's up, Vic?" she asked gently.

"Cole said something to me this afternoon that I've been thinking about a lot..." Vic sighed deeply. "And... I need to tell you that I'm sorry for all the crap I've given you over you and him in the past year and a half. I should have known better than to think there was anything going on because I know you, Mel..."

There were times when Mel wondered if Vic actually knew her at all, but she did not say so. She genuinely liked him in spite of the troubles they tended to have while dating. They made better friends than lovers and that was just all there was to it. But having him as a friend was something she did want, and not because of the help he could give them. He may have had a serious jealous-streak and an enormous blind-spot about her, but he was still a good and compassionate man.

She smiled faintly. "Apology accepted, Vic. I understand. I do."

Vic could not help but smile. Trust Mel to be gracious and not point out what a possessive jerk he could be at times. "Uh, you have a customer trying to get your attention," he noted, pointing.

"Oh! Stay put, Vic. We'll talk in a bit."

***

As soon as the crowd thinned out enough that the others could easily handle it alone, Mel announced that she was taking a break. Waving her hand to get Vic's attention across the room, she gestured towards the stairwell. Vic nodded and finished his beer, rising.

"Too noisy to talk down there," Mel told him when they reached the apartment. "To say nothing about some things just not being fit to repeat in polite company. Or any company at all in this case."

Vic chuckled and nodded. "You can say that again."

"Sit," Mel said, pointing towards the couch. "Can I get you something? Coffee?"

"Coffee would be great, Mel. It's been a long day."

"Anything we can help you with?"

He smiled and shook his head. "Nah, Mel. Just your run of the mill human variety of homicide. Trying to frame a case in the face of incredible incompetence and a high-priced defense attorney."

Of course, he had to do that often. It was doing it while still reeling from several bombshells at once that was hard. His ex was living with an alien cop. An investigation that he had been unsuccessfully pursuing for over a year was actually an investigation into an alien crime syndicate. Said crime syndicate was apparently active all over the world...

Normally when he was stressed, he'd make an appointment or two with John, the department shrink, and just talk until he felt better. Needless to say, that was not an option here. John may have been his friend, but he would have had Vic locked up if he started spouting off about alien crime families.

"Sounds painful." Mel walked into the living room with two cups of coffee and sat down on the couch next to Vic, handing him one. "Extra-high octane, just the way you like it."

"Thanks, Mel." Vic accepted it with a smile. "What's Cole up to?"

"Going after some Enixian." Mel shrugged. "She killed a few people and he thinks she might be ready to again soon, so he wants to get this over and done with."

Vic nodded. "Been there. He going to be back soon?"

"Um..." Mel glanced at her watch, frowning slightly. He had promised to be back by eight. It was almost ten. "Yeah, he... he should be."

"He's late, isn't he?" Vic asked gently, noting her concern.

"Yeah, but I'm sure he's fine. He's a big boy. He can take care of himself." The reassurance was as much for herself as it was for Vic.

Vic hesitated for a moment before nodding. "I can't believe they sent him here without backup."

Mel shrugged. "Well, the first time there just wasn't time and the second time..." She trailed off, knowing that telling Vic that Cole had come back not because of another escape but to be with her was probably a bad idea. "Things were a little disorganized, I guess. Everyone was panicking. I guess the wormhole collapsed before they could send anyone else through." That, at least, was the truth. "What do you have for us?" she asked, changing the subject.

Vic declined to comment on her use of the word 'us'. "Okay, first off, no questions as to where I got any of this, Mel. That's the rule from now on. No questions about which Agency or how many people or what laws are being broken. You understand me?"

Since Cole had already mentioned that Vic was worried about his friends and what might happen to them if it were discovered that they were sharing classified information with Vic, Mel nodded. They might be more in danger from the fugitives than from their own agencies anyway, if their names got out. It would be best for only Vic to know who they were, just in case.

"Okay, Vic. Deal."

He smiled gratefully. "Zin's people are in at least bimonthly contact with three Swiss banks that we know about. Attempts are being made to hack the records, but I wouldn't count on it."

"Cole might be able to."

"Able to what, Mel?" Cole asked, walking into the living room and pulling off his coat.

Vic rose, his eyes wide. "My God, Cole, you're covered in blood..."

"Oh, hello, Vic." Cole smiled absently in his direction. "It's okay," he added gently, noting Vic's agitation. "I'm not bleeding any more."

"That's all YOURS?" Vic asked, trying to figure out how Cole could still be conscious, let alone engaging in polite conversation. "Christ, what happened?"

"I underestimated a fugitive." He shrugged and walked into the bathroom to undress and wash off his blood.

"What the hell?" Vic whispered, staring after him with wide eyes.

"He can heal himself. It's a Cirronian thing," Mel explained. "Cole, is that shirt salvageable?" she called after him.

"Not unless you've taken up sewing, Mel," Cole muttered, emerging from the bathroom and walking down the hall bare-chested.

Mel walked into the bathroom and pulled the shirt in question out of the trash can, holding it up for inspection. Definitely irretrievable.

"The clothing budget of this household..." she muttered, shaking her head. Sarcasm was easier than thinking about how close to death those injuries must have put Cole.

Vic walked in and his eyes widened. "My God, that must be five, six slash wounds. And two, three, FOUR stab wounds to the CHEST?" he demanded. Any hovering doubts as to the fact that Cole was not human were neatly washed away by that. No human could have survived such an assault. This guy was not an alien. He was Superman.

"My own fault for going up against an Enixian after dark. Especially a known killer." Cole shook his head. "I'm lucky I got off that easy, quite honestly." He shrugged. "I completely underestimated her."

"What happened?" Vic asked.

"She found out I was coming somehow and set up an ambush. I was too stunned to react for a few moments. She landed two blows to my chest before I could react," he explained, holding up a knife for inspection. "The other injuries were really just scratches. I got them as we fought."

Vic stared at the alien knife. Two sharp blades, joined by a rod held in a clenched fist. One punch equaled two stab-wounds. He shook his head. "Jeez... You people don't mess around with your offensive weaponry, do you?"

"It's very primitive," Cole said, shrugging and dropping it into the sink. "I think they were initially used on Varda for sacrifices, but they've become popular as weapons for some reason." He shook his head and left the bathroom.

They found him in the kitchen, wiping his bloody hands with a paper towel.

"But you got her, right?" Mel asked.

"Yes, Mel. I did get her." Cole nodded and poured himself a cup of coffee, casually tossing the paper towel into the trash. "Vic, do you have any information for us yet?" he asked.

Noticing that Vic appeared a little too stunned for coherent speech, Mel jumped in. "Yeah. He says that Zin's organization has been in contact with at least three Swiss banks."

"I need the records."

"It's not that easy," Vic protested. "Swiss banks don't believe in disclosing their records to ANYONE. It's why they're so popular with criminals," he explained.

"I need the names of the banks, then. I might be able to hack into their systems."

Behind Vic, Mel smirked at Cole's use of the qualifier. Cole 'might' hack into that system the same way that the sun 'might' rise tomorrow.

Vic handed Cole a sheet of paper with the names of the banks noted down. "There's one other thing," he added. "A friend of mine... Zin's organization has been making pretty frequent contact with a Real Estate company in London. They're buying land and they're doing it like they were here, all in one location."

Cole closed his eyes and shook his head. "Damn it."

Mel sighed deeply, fully agreeing with Cole's assessment. At Vic's look, she explained, "They've found another Vault..."

END ACT 4
TAG

"I want ice-cream," Kate announced after dinner. "Jess, do you want ice-cream?"

"Sounds good. Let me grab my jacket."

"Okay." Kate smiled and nodded, rising and retrieving her own.

"Do you think it's wise?" Jess asked, suddenly reluctant. "Going out after dark?"

"Jess, come off it. We're big girls. We can take care of ourselves. Besides, it's a beautiful night. There will be people about."

Jess nodded and followed Kate from the flat, mostly because she did not want the girl going out alone. Kate had pepper-spray, but that was not necessarily enough to protect her. "Well, I'll give you this. It is a beautiful night."

"Perfect for ice-cream," Kate said, stripping off her jacket and tying it around her waist.

A shopping district adjoining the University, the quad almost always had lots of people at this time of night. Jess and Kate blended in, just two more students out for an evening walk. The little ice-cream shop was less than three blocks from the bookstore, and Kate loved to visit it after school or in the evenings. They grabbed a free outside table, and Jess held it while Kate went inside to get their ice-cream.

The largish crowd of people around and the fact that it was still relatively light out had her less concerned over the whole situation, but she did scan the sidewalks for a man fitting the description of 'stalker'.

"He's seventy-five yards that way, Jess," Kate provided quietly, casually waving one finger in that direction before sitting down and handing Jess her ice-cream. "Now would you relax?"

Jess blinked and looked in that direction. There were five or six people, some alone and some in pairs. None of them looked overtly suspicious. "What's he wearing?"

"Give me your compact."

Startled, Jess complied, watching curiously as Kate held it up to her face at various angles without making any move to powder it. Her eyes widened as she realized that Kate was scanning the crowd.

"Hooded sweatshirt." Kate handed the compact back. "Bloke never lets me get a look at his face." Shrugging, she started on her ice-cream.

"How can this not bother you?" Jess demanded.

"He's never threatened me before. I'm not about to live in fear. Dad would never have wanted one of his daughters to have to do that. Hell, this guy was probably hired by Dad's firm just to keep an eye on me." Not that she believed that for one second, but Jess just might.

"You call them tomorrow and you find out," Jess ordered.

Kate smiled and held up her hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, Jess. I will. I'll sound like a right fool, but I'll do it to keep you happy."

"Eat your ice-cream, Kate," Jess ordered, grinning and shaking her head. "How was school?"

"Pretty good, mom..." Kate teased.

The two young women spent the next half-hour or more chatting and laughing over their ice-cream. After that, they pushed their empty dishes aside and kept talking. Kate told Jess about her father's love for ice-cream and how he always used to bring her to this shop when she was little. Rather than sharing any stories of her own father and spoil the pleasant mood, Jess told Kate about this bloke she had once known who liked to walk around a bar she had worked at in his underwear.

"He did NOT!" Kate protested, laughing.

"He did." Jess nodded. "Definitely a site to behold. That bum was a work of art, I'm telling you."

"Personally, I prefer a man's chest," Kate laughed.

"GREAT chest," Jess assured her, looking around. The square was empty and the only light was from the streetlamps. "Hell, it's late. We should go."

"Yeah." Kate rose and pulled her jacket back on. "Let's go."

Jess looked around as they started back towards the store. "I don't see him."

"Oh, he's around," Kate assured her. She could feel him.

They walked in silence until they passed a bus-stop where a knot of young men were standing. Neither of them paid attention to the common site until one of the men broke away from the group and approached them.

"Evening, ladies."

Instantly wary, Jess placed a hand on Kate's arm and stepped in front of her. "Evening," she greeted cautiously.

Kate shivered, aware that the attention of the other five young men was now fixed squarely on them. Great, they had been fixed on by a gang of hoodlums. Never a stalker around when you needed one.

"Let's go, Jess," she urged quietly, grabbing Jess by the arm and hauling her away.

"I don't think so," the young man said.

A knife flashed in the streetlight and they were surrounded before they could react. Kate immediately reached for her pepper-spray, but before she could get to it, the man with the knife was being tackled to the ground by a man in a hooded sweatshirt.

"Run!" he ordered, not sparing them a second glance.

Jess could have sworn that she saw a faint glow under the man's hand before the hoodlum lapsed into unconsciousness. Shaking her head, she grabbed Kate by the arm and started pulling. The problem with that strategy was that they still had five more gang members to contend with. Two went after their rescuer as the other three came after Jess and Kate again. Kate hit two of them with pepper-spray before the third pulled a knife.

"Damn it, Kitten, RUN!" their rescuer shouted.

Kate froze, her eyes wide.

"Go!" Jess shouted, grabbing the pepper-spray and shoving Kate away from the knife-wielding man. "Go, Kate! Go!"

Reluctant to leave Jess, Kate looked around. Jess and her 'stalker' against the two remaining gang members. There was a payphone less than a block away where she could call the police...

Jess felt a sharp pain in her arm and let out a muffled gasp, clasping her hand over the heavily-bleeding wound as Kate took off at a run, not even aware that she had been hit. Her attacker pressed his advantage, closing on her only to be struck on the back of the head by the man in the hooded sweatshirt. Once he was sure that the other man was unconscious, he took a step towards Jess.

Jess flattened herself against a wall, breathing heavily and clutching her arm. She regarded him fearfully. Gentle brown eyes stared out at her from under the close-drawn hood, the only feature she could make out in the shadowy darkness.

"Give me you arm," he directed gently. When Jess just clutched at it more tightly, he gently repeated, "Give me your arm, child. It's okay. You're going to be okay..."

Jess slowly extended her arm to the stranger, suddenly understanding why Kate simply could not be intimidated by him. He radiated an aura of calm and peace that made intimidation impossible. She whimpered softly as he firmly wrapped both hands around her injured forearm, then gasped as she saw light spilling out from beneath them. Soothing warmth replaced pain and then vanished, leaving nothing behind: no pain and, amazingly, no cut.

"Go," he ordered, stepping away from her. "See to Kate."

Since she could see Kate coming back in their direction, Jess made no move to follow his orders. "Who are you?" she whispered.

"A friend. Just a friend," he assured her in an amused voice.

Then, between one beat of Jess' heart and the next, he was simply... gone.

THE END

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