Episode Nine

by CritterKeeper

Teaser

"Your degree of happiness is directly related to how well you adjust to plan B." I don't know who said that first, but let's just say, right now, I was not a happy camper....

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Mei-Lin lay in the exam chair, watching the ultrasound monitor as the Keeper ran the probe across her abdomen. The image was a mass of white dots on a black background, nothing but dark and light splotches, until, like a Magic Eye picture, everything suddenly clicked into place.

"There's the uterus, that's amniotic fluid.... we'll follow the wall of the uterus....." Claire dropped a little more conducting gel onto her latest patient's abdomen, just ahead of the probe as it slid slowly across her skin. Shifting the angle a little, she caught a thickened area. "That's the placenta.... looks good so far....."

She'd traced most of the placenta before spotting a small dark area in between the layers of the uterus and the placenta.

"There's the little bugger!"

"What is it?"

"That, Mei-Lin, is the cause of the pain you were feeling...a very small placental abruption. The placenta pulled away from the uterus slightly, breaking some of the blood vessels that feed the baby." At Mei-Lin's look of alarm, Claire hurried to reassure her. "The blood is all yours, and you've plenty to spare at this point. Almost all of the placenta is still firmly attached; it really is a very small abruption. A few days of bed rest, just to be sure it isn't working on becoming a larger one, and both of you should be fine."

Mei-Lin sank back in relief. The pain that had started during their escape had frightened her more than she'd let on. She was constantly amazed anew at how important this baby had become to her. 'A mother's love' was an easy phrase, but it just didn't come close to covering it.

Claire had shifted the angle of the probe to examine the 26-week-old fetus for any signs of distress. A little hand waved gently, but the baby was relatively quiet. Resting up after a long day; even before birth, babies tended to sleep a lot.

"Have you had an amniocentesis?" Claire asked.

Mei-Lin shook her head. "We'd been discussing it before I became a... guest of the MSS."

"Good steady heartbeat," the doctor observed, watching the screen. "Well, that should be our next priority. If we can get a sample of fetal cells, we can determine whether those earlier test results were accurate."

Mei-Lin's face clouded a moment. "I want to know." Her hand reached up towards the screen, tracing the outline of her baby's head. "I know there are other more subtle problems the ultrasound can't detect, but it's reassuring to be able to see that little face, to see that everything at least looks fine."

Claire glanced over to a motionless figure slouched in a chair by her workbench. The two women exchanged glances, and Mei-Lin gave a slight nod. Claire set down the probe and crossed the room.

Darien sat, staring at empty air a few feet before him. He was oblivious to his Keeper until she put a gentle hand on his shoulder, bringing his attention back to the room with a startled jerk.

"Would you like to come and see this?"

"Huh?" Darien glanced around, taking in the equipment and Mei-Lin's position on the exam chair. "Oh, yeah, yeah!"

Darien approached hesitantly. His eyes met Mei-Lin's, and she could see the fear there; at the moment it was fear of how she would react to him. He stood beside her and hesitantly put a hand on her upper arm. She smiled back just as hesitantly, both of them uncertain how to behave in this situation, and placed a gentle hand on top of his. Still not sure what to say, Mei-Lin nodded her head towards the ultrasound screen, where Claire had once again captured an image of the tiny life inside her.

Darien squinted at the screen. "What... what am I looking at?"

"You see that curve there? That's the back of the baby's head, and here's the spine...."

"Is that an arm?"

"Yes, and that's a leg, and that's.... that's the umbilical cord. Looks like this little one is a bit shy."

"What, so you can't see if it's a girl of a boy?"

"We can give it a moment. Perhaps he or she will wake up and move around enough to get that cord out of the way."

Darien stared at the screen, the far-away look returning to his face.

Claire watched the pair discreetly. Their faces were unguarded, their attention on the screen. Like any expectant mother, Mei-Lin showed a mix of fear, joy, worry, and love. Darien's expression was more complex, with elements of all of the above muted by an overlying uncertainty.

"Darien?"

"Huh?" His head snapped up, his reverie broken.

"Once I get a sample of fetal cells, I'll need a sample from you as well." Off of his blank look, she elaborated, "for genetic comparison. It's easier to set up the test with a fresh sample than to try to dig up an appropriate old one and get it into usable shape."

"Oh, right, right." His hand slipped off of Mei-Lin's arm at this reminder that his status as father was still only a possibility, not yet a certainty. Mei-Lin looked away and down, a faint flush creeping into her cheeks.

"Looks like baby's sound asleep just now." Claire put away the ultrasound probe and began cleaning up, her manner professional and uncondemning. "We can try for a better look a little later, and hopefully the equipment for that amniocentesis will arrive this afternoon."

Claire wheeled the ultrasound into the far corner of the Keep, more to give Darien and Mei-Lin a sense of privacy than to get the bulky cart out of her way, taking several extra minutes to clean conducting gel off of the probe.

Darien stood beside Mei-Lin. His mind was racing too fast for him to keep up; he felt like he was standing still on the sidelines, left behind by his own emotions.

He wanted to say something caring and supportive, to promise to be the father he'd never had. He wanted to run and hide, to crawl under his bedcovers and cry that he wasn't ready for this responsibility. He wanted to tell her Chen-Po could have them both; he wanted to fight to keep her, her and this precious little life.

In the war for control of his tongue, nobility and caution teamed up to claim the first thing out of his mouth. "Does Chen-Po know?"

Mei-Lin grimaced. "He was so proud when I told him I was pregnant.... until I told him the baby might not be his. That's when he left."

Might. Of course. There it was again, the phrase that kept him off-balance. Every time he thought he was zeroing in on how he felt about becoming a father, something threw back at him that it might not be so anyway.

"He left you?" For one brief moment, Darien felt a thrill of triumph, a primitive exultation that his claim was uncontested. And then fear, panic at the thought of all that responsibility. When she had a fiancé the possibility of ending up with an instant family had seemed a lot more remote.

"My face is bad enough, but this...." Mei-Lin had turned the scarred side of her face away, her hair hanging in front of it like a veil.

"Hey, I thought we had that issue settled!" Darien chided. "Your face didn't get in the way of... of anything, for either of us, right?"

"How could I forget?" she asked, arching one eyebrow, her hand touching her midsection.

The moment ended when Bobby Hobbes came into the Keep in search of his partner. Darien quickly, almost guiltily, moved away from her a step, before he even thought about it, but Mei-Lin had leaned slightly away as well, so he decided she wouldn't hold it against him.

"How's it going, partner?" Bobby smiled casually down at Mei-Lin. "Everything okay?" His offhand attitude reminded Darien that he hadn't exactly passed along the details of his adventure with the invisible woman six months ago.

"Everything looks good so far," Mei-Lin replied quietly, self-consciously pulling down her shirt, which had been raised to expose her abdomen for the ultrasound. "But I will need to 'take it easy' for a few days, according to your doctor."

"Don't worry about it, you're in good hands with the Keeper here." He turned to Darien. "Ready to go, partner?"

"Yeah, sure." His eyes met Mei-Lin's for a moment. There was definitely more to talk about, but it appeared she'd be around for a while. They would have to find a better time, with a little privacy.

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::Cue Theme Music::

There once was a tale about a man who could turn invisible. I thought it was only a story, until it happened to me. OK, so here's how it works: There's this stuff called 'Quicksilver' that can bend light. My brother and some scientists made it into a synthetic gland, and that's where I came in. See, I was facing life in prison and they were looking for a human experiment. So we made a deal; they put the gland in my brain, and I walk free. The operation was a success... but that's when everything started to go wrong.

::Music Fade Out::

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Act One

Tracy Kidder once said, "The first step in fixing something is getting it to break." In the case of Golda, as my partner has dubbed our van, this was definitely the case. The Official had promised a complete overhaul, but it took a little disagreement with a gate to get things moving on that front.

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"So you finally got the van moving again, huh?" Darien stood looking at the decrepit light brown van the pair used. The exterior had been repaired in a few minor ways, but the overall appearance was still nothing to inspire much confidence. Nothing hinted at the horsepower Darien knew had been crammed under her slightly bent hood.

"Yeah, if we hadn't already started reinforcing her, that little escapade might have finished her off. As it is, most of the damage was to stuff I was already gonna have to replace in the overhaul."

A large number of boxes of various sizes were scattered about the garage, a stack of shipping forms collected in a haphazard stack on the table next to an open toolbox. Darien pulled open one of the boxes, peering at the irregular plastic and protruding wires within. Hobbes slapped his hand away good-naturedly.

"Hands off, Fawkes. Our lives may depend on this gear, I don't want you dripping any Quicksilver and freezing it."

"Yeah, yeah. Y'know, this involuntary shooming sucks, but what sucks even more is how few times I actually get to do anything worth the inconvenience, if you know what I mean." He started fiddling with a wrench set left out on the workbench. "Spiders falling on me... that crazy Cuban lady... even with the gland switched off, you and Alex wouldn't even let me --" A look from Hobbes cut him off. He guiltily dropped the wrench too, but immediately began fiddling with some wires instead. "You know how long it's been since I...." He realized abruptly that he knew exactly how long it had been. "Crap... six months?" he murmured aloud.

Hobbes snorted. "That is definitely not need to know, my friend." He gestured at the boxes. "You think Golda was running like the Batmobile after her last overhaul, just wait until you see all the surprises I'm gonna be adding to her now!"

"Cool." Darien shrugged. "So are we gonna eat, or what?"

"Yeah, yeah. Come on, Mister Bottomless Pit." They climbed into the van and Darien noted that, whatever was working under the hood, the door on his side still creaked.

"So how'd the ultrasound go? Everything okay in there?" Hobbes asked casually.

"Yeah, so far. Keeper figured out why Mei-Lin was hurting and says things will be fine if she takes it easy for a few days. Couldn't see if it's a boy or a girl," he added as an afterthought.

Hobbes eyed Fawkes sideways as he took one of his habitual fast turns shedding imaginary tails. "You, uh, were spending a lot of time down there. I saw the way you two looked when I came in. Huh?" He grinned slyly. "Is there something going on between you two?"

Darien sighed. Since everyone else knew, it was bound to get to Bobby sooner or later. "I'm not sure, Hobbes. It might be. I haven't seen her in six months...."

Bobby sat in the driver's seat, eyes on the road. Darien counted silently. One, two, three, four....

"So, are you going to marry her?"

Five, he thought to himself, before the exact question sank in. Darien snorted. "Marry her? Hobbes, I barely know her!"

"It's a little late to be thinking about that now, my friend." Hobbes was going into full lecture mode. "Where I come from, if you get a girl in a family way, you don't hide from your responsibilities. You know her in the biblical sense, you know her well enough."

"C'mon, man, it might not even be mine."

"I can't count how many times I've heard that line, partner. I'm disappointed in you."

"Yeah, well, in this case, apparently, it's true." Darien was surprised at the bitter note in his voice. At the time, he'd been happy to see Mei-Lin and Chen-Po together. He just hadn't allowed himself to think about what way they were going to be together, or just how soon.

"So? So maybe the Keeper does some tests and you're off the hook. And maybe not, in which case the question still stands, are you gonna do the right thing?"

"I'm not sure what the right thing is, Hobbes. I mean, what kind of father would I be? I'm sure as hell not ready for this."

"Nobody is ever ready, my friend. And I think you'll make a great father. You've gotten a lot more responsible in the past couple years. Even Kevin was impressed."

It took Darien a moment to realize Hobbes was talking about when Kevin's memories had been inhabiting his own skull, with a little help from the gland. He'd never actually gotten to see the phenomena from the outside, so he still had trouble believing he'd actually been Kevin. Still, a little part of him thrilled at praise from his big brother.

"I dunno, man... she had it all set, a fiancé, a life together, it'd still be nice to see that happen."

"Yeah, well, now it ain't gonna happen, and it's 'cos of something you did, isn't it? So that makes you even more responsible."

"Uh, there were two people involved there, Hobbes."

"Yeah, and one of them was you."

"Look, I don't know, okay? I don't know if Mei-Lin is gonna want to marry me, I don't know if I want to get married, I don't know if I'm ready to be a father, I don't know!"

They drove in silence for a few minutes, Hobbes pursing his lips in disapproval. Eventually, Darien recovered from his outburst and relaxed a bit.

"Still, you know, I guess it would be kinda cool...."

Hobbes grinned. His partner sounded so young, just then.

"How about you, Hobbes? I mean, if you and Vivian hadn't split up, would you have had kids?"

"Sure. I mean, back when we first got married, we were gonna have it all. The house with the white picket fence, 2.6 kids and a dog romping in the yard... That's one reason I got out of the military, so's I could settle down a little more. I mean, any kind of intelligence work, you're gonna travel, especially in my areas of expertise, but at least you usually get a steady home base and you get to go back to it more often."

"You still want that? Yeah, I know it's not gonna be with Viv, but do you still want that with someone, someday?"

"With all my heart, but I've come to realize it ain't gonna happen."

Hobbes' face was clouded now, his tone bitter. Darien was shocked. "Why not? You've always said you wanted to. You're still young, still popular with the ladies --"

"And still nuts." Bobby cut him off sharply. "I decided I wasn't gonna screw up anybody else's life, wasn't gonna put anyone else through what Viv had to put up with. Besides which, a lot of mental stuff is genetic, you know? Why would I want to bring a kid into this world who's going to have to go through what I went through?"

His words came so smoothly, Darien got the impression this was an argument Hobbes had gone through in his own mind often enough to have it memorized.

"Hobbes?" Darien asked casually. "Did you decide all this before finding out that Doc Barry was deliberately messing with your head?"

The van rolled to a stop in a space in the lot outside the mall, but Darien got the distinct impression that his partner would have pulled over without even realizing it. Either that or just come to a stop in the middle of the street.

"You're not nearly as messed up as you thought you were. Hell, you're not nearly as nutso as you were when we first got partnered! You've got a handle on it."

"Maybe. I gotta say, this new shrink is good. First non-military, non-intelligence psychiatrist I've seen, but she really knows her stuff. You know, she's talking about how all these meds deplete the water-soluble vitamins, orthomolecular medicine...."

"You're changing the subject." Darien climbed out of the van, stretching his long legs.

"....she's even got me under hypnosis, trying to track down memories I'm not dealing with."

"Hypnosis? Really?" The van doors slammed in unison, and the partners made their way inside.

"I told her there's no way Bobby Hobbes can be hypnotized, Bobby Hobbes is too smart for that, and she says actually, it's the smart people that make the best subjects. And wouldn't you know it, she's right!"

The conversation paused while they ordered from one of the fast food counters in the food court, picking up again as they carried their trays to an empty and relatively clean table.

"I got hypnotized at a party once."

"Really?"

"Yeah, stuck a pin right into my hand, didn't feel a thing. Had some really big guy hanging off of my arm, like I was a jungle gym."

"I'd never let some guy at a party do that to me, my friend. This doc is a trained professional."

"Yeah, well, there was this really hot chick...."

"Ah."

Darien shook his head. "And you're still trying to change the subject."

"Am not. This is the subject. Subjects change, they meander."

"Bull, alright? The subject is, does the fact that you're not really nuts anymore change your decision about having kids?"

Hobbes pursed his lips in thought. "Tell you the truth, kid, I think I'm gonna have to think about that one. Maybe I'll talk it over with Dr. Martin."

"So what was that you were saying about vitamins?"

"Orthomolecular medicine. She's explained it to me a couple times, last time it even made sense. I think I musta heard about it some time, 'cos I kinda remembered it once she said it."

"So what is it? Sounds complicated."

"Nah. Basically, when you're on a lot of drugs for a long period of time, it alters your metabolism, and you tend to get depleted of the water-soluble vitamins. And that can make a lot of problems a lot worse, even cause some psychiatric disturbances. Supplement the depleted vitamins in just the right amount, and it's a lot easier for your body to take care of the rest of the problems."

"Wow. You know, she must be good, you sounded like you actually understood that."

"Hey, I told you before, I'm smart."

"Yeah, I'd say you have a unique mind."

"Ha ha. I'm unique, just like everybody else."

Darien went to get some ketchup, and when he got back Hobbes was doodling something on one of the napkins, a distracted look on his face. To Darien, it looked like a crude sketch of a bunch of soap bubbles stuck together.

"Whatcha got there, partner?"

Hobbes looked startled. "You know, I have no idea." He peered at the sketch, shrugged, and stuffed it in his pocket.

"Show it to your shrink, maybe she'll have some Freudian interpretation."

"Freud's interpretations are always the same, Fawkes. Sex. Besides, he was a moron. He said that child sexual abuse never happened, that the victims were making it up because it was what they wanted to happen."

"I didn't know that."

"You see? Quotes aren't everything, my friend."

"'Stealing someone else's words frequently spares the embarrassment of eating your own.' Peter Anderson."

"'It is unbecoming for young men to utter maxims.'"

"Aristotle, I'm impressed."

"Come on, smartass, let's get this done so we can get back to work."

Darien couldn't resist rebutting, "I'd rather be a smartass than a dumbass."

"Where are we going?" Mei-Lin asked, leaning on the Keeper on one side and the wheeled pole her IV set was attached to on the other. She didn't really hurt much any more, but the memory of the pain was there, and so was the extra weight she'd gained, so she wasn't as mobile as she usually was.

"Oh, I just thought you might appreciate a change of scenery. You know, you must be getting tired of staring at the same four walls all day."

"So now I can stare at a different set of four walls? Good, I've already memorized all the cracks in the walls of your Lab Three."

"Well, there's a little more to look at than just the walls...." Claire slid her card through the scanner next to the door, and it hissed open smoothly, revealing a comfortable bed, the head raised so she could sit reclined instead of lying flat. It also revealed an assortment of wrapped packages and unwrapped larger baby gear with bows on them, and a grinning Alex.

"Surprise!" the two women cheered.

Mei-Lin took in the crib, stroller, changing table. "What is all of this?"

"It's a tradition in America," Claire explained. "It's called a baby shower."

"A... shower?" Mei-Lin climbed onto the bed with only a little assistance. She wasn't far enough along yet to need a footstool or a lift, but she could tell it was coming from the slight extra effort it took to get herself up there. Or perhaps that was just the lingering ache from the minor abruption.

"When a woman is expecting a baby," Alex filled in, "her female friends and relatives get together and give her a bunch of the things she's going to need for it. They have a party to celebrate."

Claire pulled out a small cake with white frosting reading CONGRATULATIONS MEI-LIN. The 'congratulations' was squeezed tightly together in order to fit, but the 'Mei-Lin' was legible.

"No champagne, of course, but we have a little sparkling grape juice."

The soon-to-be mother was still looking over at the collection of equipment. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," Claire bubbled. "Here, let me get you something to unwrap."

Alex put a hand on Mei-Lin's shoulder. "It makes it more real, doesn't it?" At Mei-Lin's puzzled look, Alex gestured at the small mountain of baby gear. "Seeing all that, and knowing it isn't even everything you'll need. It just kinda hits you, right here," she said, touching her own chest lightly with her free hand, "just how big a job you've gotten yourself into."

Mei-Lin saw the wistful but happy look on Alex's face and came to the obvious conclusion. "You have children?"

Wistful took over, mixed with anger and loss. "One. A son, James." She caught Mei-Lin's look and explained her own. "He was kidnapped just after he was born. I've only seen him once since."

"How terrible!" Mei-Lin shuddered. There were so many dangers, so many fearful things that could happen to the small, helpless life inside of her, and it was going to be her job to guard against all of them.

Alex shook herself out of her mood; this was supposed to be a happy day for Mei-Lin, and besides, Claire was back with a package wrapped in fuzzy ducklings, a bit taken aback by the gloom she found. "They're only interested in children conceived in their fertility clinics, so that's one thing you won't have to worry about, okay?"

Claire pressed the package into Mei-Lin's hands, her own grin becoming less forced as the guest of honor began unwrapping it. Inside was little set of pajamas, complete with booted feet and a cartoon of Tigger on the front.

"They seem so small!" Mei-Lin blushed. "I have always been more interested in my projects than in holding other womens' babies." She was starting to look overwhelmed again.

"Which brings us to this," Alex filled in smoothly, holding up a package precisely wrapped in paper decorated with baby rattles and bottles. A heavier package, Mei-Lin rested it gently on the top of her stomach while she unwrapped it. Inside were a collection of books, including 'What to Expect When You're Expecting' and 'The Girlfriends' Guide to Pregnancy and Childbirth.' Alex pulled out the latter, showing the cover to Claire before placing it in Mei-Lin's hands. "This one is especially good. Trust me, there's stuff in there your doctor's not going to tell you."

"Hey!" Claire exclaimed teasingly.

"No offense, Claire, but unless you've actually pushed a small watermelon out of your body...."

"I wasn't planning to any time soon...."

"I am." Mei-Lin's rueful grin broke any lingering tension, and Alex brought out the sparkling grape juice for a toast.

It didn't take long to open the rest of the packages, and soon the floor was littered with bits of cutesy paper and the counters were filled with the smaller presents.

Alex refilled their glasses while Claire carved a generous piece out of the small cake and offered it up on a little party-size paper plate. "Who wants chocolate?"

"I do! I do!" a voice said out of thin air, and the plate lifted out of her hand seemingly on its own.

"Darien!" she exclaimed, scandalized. "What do you think you're doing here?"

Quicksilver flakes fell away, not just from the lanky figure now digging into the cake, but from shorter figures to either side of him as well, revealing a smug Hobbes and a slightly nervous Eberts.

"We're crashing your party, that's what," Hobbes explained unnecessarily, relieving Claire of the cake and slicing the remainder into five more pieces.

"You know," Darien said around a mouthful of cake, "I'm hurt that you didn't invite us."

"Baby showers are traditionally, well...." Claire trailed off.

"Women only," Alex finished brusquely. "You know, the ones who actually have the babies?"

"Well, gosh, Monroe, should I expect to see you in the craft shop instead of the firing range, then?" Hobbes asked. "Guns are traditionally a guy thing."

Alex was starting to get angry, but Claire's laughter brought her back to her senses. The corner of her mouth twisted from a snarl into a rueful smile. "All right, you caught us. It was sexist, and I apologize."

"Thank you!" Hobbes handed her a slice of cake with a little bow.

"Fortunately," Eberts chimed in, "I overheard your planning and was able to alert the rest of the staff in time for us to obtain suitable items for the occasion."

"Yeah, Ebes tipped us off, and we hit the mall at lunch." Darien pulled a small package from the counter; he'd carried it in Quicksilvered, and no one had noticed it when everyone appeared at once.

Feeling the package, Mei-Lin speculated on what could be in it. "Hmm, a box full of vials of Quicksilver, for smuggling the baby into restaurants and onto planes?"

"Your own set of lock picks," offered Alex, "for when the little tyke locks the bathroom door from the inside?"

"Or maybe a pint-sized set of climbing gear?"

The paper came away to reveal a box decorated like a house, with little windows showing a teddy bear inside, looking back out. She opened the box and pulled out a custom-made teddy bear, revealing the extra-long fuzz on the top of its head and an orange vest and bell-bottomed pants.

When the outburst of laughter had died down, Hobbes brought out a package of his own. In it were books of nursery rhymes, Grimm's fairy tales and the like, including a collection of English translations of Chinese children's stories.

"I figure the kid won't be able to read yet, but you can always read aloud. They say you can do that even, you know, in the womb, and they can hear you."

"Bobby, that's so sweet!" Claire exclaimed. Darien, behind Claire using Quicksilver to chill the bottle of sparkling grape juice, gave Hobbes a you-scored-points-there grin.

"How about you, Eberts?" Alex asked sweetly. The teddy bear had passed around the room and she was now holding it bemusedly.

Eberts very formally handed over an envelope. Mei-Lin opened the card inside to find a gift certificate.

"It's for a diaper service. They deliver your choice of cloth or disposable diapers on a regular schedule, with pickup for laundry or disposal as appropriate. They even provide the, ah, diaper pail."

Darien reached over and turned the certificate so he could see. "Hey, yeah, these guys had a booth at the mall. It's a nationwide chain, isn't it?"

"That is correct. Even if you travel, you can have service in over two hundred different cities."

Hobbes inspected the certificate suspiciously. "Sounds like a good way for someone to keep track of everywhere you go, to me."

Eberts' face fell. "I hadn't thought of that."

"It's alright, Eberts," Monroe put in. "I don't see any name on the gift certificate, they can always sign up under an alias if they want to stay anonymous."

"'They' being Mei-Lin and...." Hobbes left the sentence hanging, fishing for some sort of sign who Mei-Lin would like to fill in that blank with, but Alex filled it in for him.

"'They' being Mei-Lin and the baby." She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Hobbes."

"What? I'm just trying to be realistic here. The MSS aren't going to be happy when they figure out that backpack isn't working and the Quicksilver is no good. They're gonna figure, we reneged, so can they. And then they're gonna come after Mei-Lin, and the baby, and anyone else they can use as leverage."

Darien tugged on Bobby's sleeve, speaking softly into his ear. "Could you take it down a notch, there, partner? This is supposed to be a party. You know, a happy fun time?"

Hobbes looked ready to argue, then caught himself, took a deep breath, and visibly relaxed. "You're right, partner." He glanced at Mei-Lin. "Sorry," then he muttered, quietly enough, Darien hoped, that none of the others heard, "Plenty of time to worry about that after the party."

"I must say," Eberts piped up, filling the awkward gap, "I am impressed with how many accoutrements of infant care you were able to assemble on such short...." He trailed off, then turned to look at Alex accusingly. "I recognize some of these! They're the things we bought for taking care of Miss Monroe's son during his stay here!"

"Stealing office supplies, Alex?" Darien asked with a cocky grin.

"Eberts, calm down." Alex's tone was still friendly, although a shadow had reappeared in her eyes at mention of her son. "James will be... he must be... getting too big for all this now."

"You're not going to rat us out, are you, Ebes?" Darien asked.

"Well...." He saw in his colleagues' faces, not the distrust of the boss's lackey that he used to see, but the hope of friends that another friend would do them an important favor. "If you can supply a small sum to purchase the equipment second-hand, I believe I can convince the Official that it was a prudent move to liquidate these assets."

"Alright, my man, Ebes!" Darien cheered. Alex smiled her best thank-you smile and watched a faint flush creep up from Eberts' collar. Claire handed him a specimen cup of freshly chilled sparkling white grape juice. As she passed it over, the little paper party plate in her other hand bent right next to her thumb, dumping what was left of her slice of cake straight onto her blouse.

"Bloody hell," she muttered, grabbing the last unused paper towel to blot at the frosting. "Any more of these?" she asked as the little square almost disintegrated with its first real use.

"Here," Hobbes replied, holding out the napkin he'd stuffed in his pocket at lunch. Claire took it from him, then froze with the napkin midair. She turned it to get a better look at the design there, her spilled cake forgotten.

"Bobby, where did you get this?"

"At the food court at the mall."

"No, I mean the drawing."

"What, that? That's just a doodle. Go ahead and use it, I don't care."

But the Keeper was still studying the complex little doodle intently. "Bobby, I need to check something in my lab, and I may need a hand with it. If you'll excuse us for a little while?" She didn't wait for a reply, from Hobbes or the remainder of the party. Hobbes shrugged and followed her.

"Oh, sure, you two run along!" Darien called after them. "And play doctor," he added quietly, giggling, as the door closed.

When Hobbes caught up, Claire was already seated at one of her two computer terminals, typing and clicking rapidly, the napkin sitting on the counter beside her.

"So what's up, Keepy? You said you needed my help with something...."

"Take a look at this," Claire said as she finished typing and clicked one last time. An image began to fill the screen, of what looked to Bobby like a clump of soap bubbles of various colors and sizes. He glanced back at the napkin, puzzled.

"What is it?"

"It's one of the hormones the Quicksilver gland secretes. This is an electron-orbit model." She hit a button and the image changed to a bunch of tinker toys, smaller balls held together by sticks at varying angles. "And this is the more conventional view." She shifted back to the original image. "Bobby, how did that end up on your napkin?"

"What, you think I'm spying on you? Fat chance. Darien saw me draw that at lunch, you can ask him."

"I'm not accusing you of anything, Bobby. I just wanted to know how a model... a very accurate model, by the looks of things," she commented, comparing the drawing to the image on the screen, "got onto this napkin." She looked up from her comparison. "You drew this from memory?"

"I wasn't trying to draw anything, Keep, I swear, I was just doodling." He picked up the napkin again, contemplating it.

"You must have caught a glimpse of the image on my screen some time while you were down here. Perhaps your subconscious stored the image? There are a few mistakes, here and there, but it's truly remarkably accurate."

Hobbes' brow was creased in thought. He suddenly snapped his fingers. "I got it!" He had Claire's attention now. "My new shrink, Dr. Martin. She's been trying to help me get at buried memories, I'll bet this is 'cos of that!"

"Buried memories?"

"Yeah." Hobbes got quieter, still embarrassed to be talking about his psychological therapy even after the recent investigation into his past had revealed most of his history. "Um, she says that there's probably an element of post-traumatic stress disorder, given my history."

"Bobby!" Claire turned, worried. "You're not discussing your history with a psychiatrist who hasn't been cleared yet, are you?"

"Don't worry, Keep," he said with a slightly hurt expression, "nothing classified, no restricted info. She said there's a lot we can do working on just the stuff that's cleared for civilians, until her clearance comes through. She's even letting me tape the hypnosis sessions, so I can make sure she doesn't wind up getting too close to anything."

"Hypnosis?" Claire asked, glancing again at the molecular structure on screen. "Well, if she's using hypnosis to recover repressed memories, that could very well explain this. You saw the image on the screen at some point, and it's stayed in your head, in your subconscious. She brought it more to the fore, and then it drifted the rest of the way up far enough for you to start drawing it."

Hobbes shrugged. "I guess so." Squinting at the napkin, he muttered, "You know, I see what you mean about the two of them being a little different." He looked from the computer screen to the napkin and back. He couldn't shake the feeling that it was the computer screen that had it wrong.

"Keep me updated on how this is working for you, Bobby. Perhaps once Dr. Martin's clearance is approved...." She trailed off.

"What, you, uh, you looking for a good shrink?" Bobby's puzzlement was flattering. "Keep, you're the most together person in this crummy Agency!"

"Not for me, for Darien."

"Fawkes? What would Fawkes need to see a shrink for? He got all his insanity out of his system before you cured him."

"He still has nightmares, though. It's been over two years, and he's still reliving his brother's death on a regular basis." She frowned. "Post-traumatic stress can be insidious."

"Fawkes is never gonna go see a shrink, Keepy, no way, no how."

"Probably not," Claire agreed, "but he's finally gotten comfortable enough with me to talk about his dreams. Between Darien and Tommy Walker, I've had to do far too much psychiatry. It's not something I'm trained for, and it would be nice to be able to get some outside advice every now and then."

"I hadn't thought about that. Sure, Claire, once she's cleared to know about the whole thing, I'll ask her to get in touch with you." Hobbes was looking at the screen and the napkin again, trying to pin down a thought flickering in the back of his mind. But the more he reached for it, the more it slipped away. Leaving the napkin on the counter, he slipped out and headed back down the hall to check on the party, worries about his partner crowding out the evanescent memory.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hobbes reluctantly watched the Keeper, Mei-Lin, and their escort departing in a pair of creaky but unremarkable Agency sedans. Their guest was in the second car, the only one in the pool with tinted windows to keep observers from seeing inside the back seat. He didn't like their moving out of the security of the Harding building, no matter how many guards they took with them, but at least they were protected by someone. If the Chinese, or anyone else interested in that backpack, went after them, they'd have a fighting chance.

Fawkes' blue Crown-Victoria pulled out behind them, turning in the other direction from the Agency parking area. Hobbes waited a moment, then pulled out after him.

"The Doc would kick my ass if she knew I was following someone home," he muttered to himself. "Don't matter. Bobby Hobbes gets a feeling someone he cares about is in danger, he's not just gonna sit on his ass and wait for it to happen." It had been ages since he'd allowed himself so much as a phone call to check on Viv; he was certain it wasn't just paranoia flaring up again.

Sure enough, Hobbes spotted another vehicle keeping pace with Fawkes a little ahead of the car Bobby was using instead of the all-too-recognizable van. He carefully dropped back a bit, putting even more distance between himself and his partner; he'd trained Fawkes how to spot, and shake, a tail, and sooner or later Fawkes would do just that, and Hobbes could follow the other car back to its lair.

"Oh, this guy's good," Bobby observed, watching the way the car used traffic for interference without ever completely losing sight of Darien's vehicle. "He's good, but you're better, Fawkes. Come on, partner, spot the tail...."

Darien's car made a fast, unsignaled turn. The other car was in the wrong lane, but managed to shift over just in time to follow. Bobby, with more lead-time, was much less conspicuous pulling the same maneuver, far enough behind him to avoid suspicion.

The Fawkesmobile was nowhere in sight. He'd made another fast turn, right or left, and the other car would have to choose on the fly. It chose right. Bobby continued straight for another block, then turned right onto a side street and nosed towards the end. Sure enough, he could just see the other car paused at the intersection, trying to spot which way Fawkes had gone, and clearly having little luck.

"Attaboy, Fawkes."

The car turned left, towards Bobby's position, and he held his place; his street had a stop sign, giving him a perfectly plausible reason to be stopped, waiting for the other car to pass before pulling out himself. Hobbes had an excellent view of the driver of the car as he went past.

"Well, well, well. Mister Chen-Po Li . And just what's your interest in my partner?"

Bobby had hid his face as Li drove by, tossing his head far back pretending to drink from a now-empty paper coffee cup, but apparently the ruse was unsuccessful. Li rolled to a stop just past the intersection, then slowly backed up. Hobbes shrugged. "You want to talk? Okay, Chen-Po, we can talk...." He got out of his car and strode over to meet the former MSS agent.

"Well, now, fancy meeting you here."

"Agent Hobbes." Li nodded his head in greeting.

"Mind telling me what you're doing, tailing my partner?"

"It is... personal."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Well, lemme tell you, somebody coming after my partner, I take that real personal."

Neither man made any threatening moves. No hands drifting to their guns, no shifting of weight into an attack stance. They were both too good to need any such posturing, and they both knew that about each other, too.

"I assure you, I am not 'coming after' Agent Fawkes."

"Yeah? So, you want something from Fawkes, why don't you just ask him? Doing a little recon for the MSS?"

Chen-Po waved his hand dismissively. "I have not had contact with the MSS since we parted ways six months ago."

"Come on, Li." Hobbes gestured at the quiet side street around them. "Are we gonna have to kick each others' asses again before you'll level with me?"

Bobby could see it in Chen-Po's eyes when he decided to trust him, in the subtle change in posture, a relaxing of guard. He didn't mirror that change, not yet. He was pretty sure what this was about, had been from the moment he saw Li, but what he didn't know, yet, was how Li was taking it.

"I am looking for Mei-Lin," Li explained awkwardly.

"By tailing my partner?"

He shrugged. "She has been gone too long, she must have gone somewhere. I have... reason to believe she might seek out Agent Fawkes. She was not at his apartment, so I thought perhaps he would lead me to her."

"C'mon, Chen-Po, I thought you were supposed to be a top-notch agent, that's the best you can do?"

Bobby had meant his story, but Li took it to mean his tactics. "I am no longer an agent, Mr. Hobbes. I am cut off from the resources I made use of last time to trace where she had disappeared to. Fawkes is my only lead."

"Don't you mean your only rival?" Hobbes drawled.

Li froze, eyes narrowed.

"You see, I think you're after more than Mei-Lin. I think you're after avenging that precious honor you were so eager to fight over last time."

Something in Li's face crumpled, even though is expression hadn't changed. "So she did come to him."

Hobbes made a buzzing noise. "Bzzt! Wrong answer."

"Oh, really? Then where is she?"

"Oh, she's with us. Her and the little munchkin-on-the-way both. But she didn't come to Fawkes."

"Then how...?"

Hobbes finally took pity on the other agent and explained. "The MSS, my friend. While you were off nursing your wounded pride, the MSS came in and snatched her." Hobbes watched Chen-Po's reaction. It seemed to be genuine horror, and Hobbes had been at this long enough that he was pretty damn good at reading people.

"I thought she had left, like last time!" He shook his head. "But she is safe now? She's alright?"

"Yeah, she's fine, no thanks to you. Plenty pissed at you for walking out, and who can blame her?" Actually, Hobbes wasn't certain how Mei-Lin felt; it was a tactic.

Chen-Po Li paced the lonely intersection, clearly upset. "I did not intend to walk out on her for good. I only needed some time to think, about what she had told me. But when I came back, she had gone. I assumed she had left me, just as she had before." The way he looked at Hobbes could almost be described as pleading, quite an emotional display coming from the reserved former agent. "I have to talk to her. I have to find out her intentions. Agent Hobbes --"

"You want me to take you to her?"

"I would be most --"

"Fat chance!" He glared at Chen-Po. "I don't know what the young lady's intentions are either, but they might just involve my partner, and I am not gonna let you just waltz in and stick your nose in it. If Mei-Lin wants to talk to you, then maybe we can work something out, but in the meantime, you are going to steer clear, you got me?"

Chen-Po looked ready to protest, but thought better of it.

"That means no hanging around the Agency, no tailing anyone, no trying to get in anybody's apartment!"

The Chinese man sighed. "Agreed. If you will speak to Mei-Lin, I will try to be patient." Hobbes noted a slight emphasis on the 'if' in that statement.

"You better do more than try, Mr. Chen-Po Li, or who's the daddy ain't gonna be an issue any more, if you get what I mean."

With that, Hobbes stalked back to his car and sat down for a couple minutes, thinking. He watched Chen-Po pull away. He considered tailing him, considered just going to Darien's apartment and checking whether Li or any other MSS types were around, but decided that, despite ostensibly being on opposite sides when they met, he liked Chen-Po. He respected him. He didn't exactly trust him, but he doubted Li would do anything too obvious to jeopardize their agreement.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Act Two

Hobbes was waiting for Darien when he came in the next morning.

"Hey there, partner."

"Hey, Bobby." Darien handed Hobbes a coffee, which he took but didn't drink yet.

"You have a good night? You sleepin' any better?"

"Yeah, actually, slept pretty well. No nightmares."

Hobbes drew a breath to start giving Fawkes a good, long lecture, but was interrupted by Fawkes casually holding out a piece of paper.

"What's this?"

"Oh, somebody was tailing me last night. I gave them the slip, but, uh, not before getting the license number of the lead car." Darien handed over the paper, looking pleased with himself, and gave Hobbes a description of the car.

"Uh huh." Hobbes looked at the paper long enough to note it was the same number he'd seen, then stuffed it in his pocket. "And you lost him."

"Just like you taught me."

"And did you try to pick up his trail, tail him back to wherever he came from?"

"Uh, no. He already knew what my car looked like, I figured he'd spot it following him too easy."

"And did you call for back-up? Did you call me and let me know you'd been followed?"

"C'mon, Hobbes, I ditched him. What were you gonna do, start going up and down alleys?"

Hobbes rounded on his partner. "What I would do, partner, is come along with you to your apartment, in case someone was there waiting for you. Did you even check for signs anyone had tried to break in?"

"I didn't see any," Darien said defensively.

"Didn't see any," Hobbes growled. "You ain't gonna see what you're not looking for, Fawkes. And you should have been looking for it. Somebody's after you, that apartment of yours isn't exactly hard to find, or hard to break into."

"Relax, Hobbes, there was nobody there."

"You passed that freakin' exam, you're supposed to know better by now. Why do you think I've been training you, Fawkes? You think it's for my health? It's so I can know you're safe! So I don't have to worry about covering your skinny punk ass all the time. Have I been wasting my time?"

Hobbes' voice had risen to a shout, and a couple of doors cracked open as the Agency personnel inside gawked.

Darien, surprised by the force of the outburst and feeling sheepish for expecting praise for spotting and losing his tail, tried to calm Bobby down.

"Hobbes, I'm sorry, okay? But it's a little late now to be trying to find the guy. Next time I'll call you, I promise."

"You'd better. You call me the minute you spot the tail, we might have a chance at catching him before he disappears on you."

"I will, I will!"

"Good." Hobbes took a deep breath and got himself calmed down. Then he spotted a pair of eyes peeping from inside a nearby office. "What are you looking at?" he shouted, his hand actually reaching for his gun as the door hurriedly closed. Darien's hand went around Hobbes' wrist to stop him from drawing.

"Bobby!" Darien hissed. Hobbes looked pointedly down at Fawkes' hand until he let go, then slapped his partner's back and started down the hall as if nothing had happened. After a moment Darien followed.

"So, you think about what we were discussing in the van? You gonna marry her?"

Fawkes rolled his eyes. "Hobbes, I told you, I don't know."

"Yeah, but you've had time to think about it since then."

"Look, maybe, okay, Hobbes? If it's my baby, and Chen-Po's out of the picture...."

"Won't that be Mei-Lin's call?" a female voice asked sweetly from behind them. Alex Monroe was following, steps in synch with theirs. She draped one arm over each fellow Agent's shoulders. "Isn't this sweet? You boys are going to decide who Mei-Lin is going to marry?"

"Uh, not exactly...."

"Damn right, not exactly, Fawkes. Because it is going to be Mei-Lin's call, whether she wants you in her life or not."

"Actually, legally speaking...." Fawkes trailed off as Alex glared. "Never mind."

Alex pushed between them and stalked off down the hall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Darien arrived at what he now thought of as Mei-Lin's lab, Claire was already in the midst of preparations for the amniocentesis. Mei-Lin lay on the hospital bed, her abdomen exposed, and Claire was assembling some equipment on a tray. He paused in the doorway until he caught Mei-Lin's eye and gave her a questioning look. She hesitated a moment, then nodded, and Darien came in quietly to stand beside her.

"How you doing?" He reached out and brushed her hair back gently.

"Nervous," she admitted. "I keep thinking, what if something happens? What if the tests show something is wrong?"

"Hey, at least this way you'll know, right? And I'm, I'm sure it's nothing. That everything's going to be fine."

"You are not a very good liar, Fawkes." Mei-Lin smiled. "But we can be worried together."

By the time the Keeper was ready, Darien was settled in a chair at Mei-Lin's shoulder, quietly cracking jokes to distract her. Right now, he was making suggestions for names, each more outrageous than the last. He'd just reached 'Hortence' when Claire announced she was ready.

"All right, Mei-Lin?" Her patient nodded. "This will be just like we discussed. I'll use the ultrasound to find a place I can insert the needle without getting too close to the fetus or the placenta or cord, then I'll pass this needle through your abdominal wall."

"Damn!" Darien exclaimed, "that's a long needle!" Claire glared at him and he flushed, quickly trying to cover his lapse. "Um, but it's really thin, too." He looked from the needle and its displeased wielder to Mei-Lin. "You should've seen how big around some of the needles she's used on me were. That, that's nothing."

Claire sighed and continued. "Some people prefer a local anesthetic, but the truth is, that involves another needle, and lidocaine stings like mad, whereas this is only the one prick, albeit a bigger one. You'll feel it the most when it first goes through the skin, after that it's just sort of there. You can feel it move around a little but it won't really hurt when it does so."

Claire squirted conducting gel onto Mei-Lin's abdomen and began the process of determining where baby, cord, placenta, and fluid pockets were. She found the small abruption and confirmed that it was healing, that there was no sign of fresh bleeding. Following the placenta around, she traced the umbilical cord as it twisted through the amniotic sac and hooked up to the baby floating within. A little hand, all five fingers visible, opened and closed. The mouth moved as the fetus swallowed some amniotic fluid. Darien was fascinated. He kept wanting to tell her to go back, not to move away from such a cool sight, but he held his tongue, knowing that the doctor needed to concentrate.

Finally satisfied with her positioning, Claire prepped a site with antiseptic and inserted the long needle. Mei-Lin gave a little gasp as the beveled tip pierced her skin, and her hand reached out to find and hold on to Darien's. It was weird; Darien thought it was rather like their other encounter, six months ago. Mei-Lin needed someone, and Darien was there and willing, but he realized sadly that any supportive, sympathetic hand probably would have done just as well for her. He was so distracted by this thought that for a moment he lost track of what was happening on the ultrasound monitor.

Eventually Claire was finished, and once the needle was withdrawn Mei-Lin relaxed her hold on Darien's hand. Relaxed, but did not release. She looked up into his contemplative face and murmured, "Thank you."

"Hey, any time. I mean that." He gave her hand a little squeeze before releasing it. Maybe this was the best way for them. Darien would be there for her as a friend, would support her emotionally, whether it went any further than that or not.

Then Darien, watching Claire wipe the conducting gel off of Mei-Lin's exposed abdomen, felt a little trickle of Quicksilver trying to escape his control, and decided maybe there was a chance at something more, there, after all.

Checking that Mei-Lin was alright, Darien offered to help the Keeper with her samples and equipment. He tagged along with her to the Keep, still mostly lost in thought. She took the tray from him and began doing whatever it was she had to do with the sample.

"Hey, so, uh, how long will it take you to know?"

"Well, there are a lot of tests I'll need to run, some of them I'll have to send to outside labs. I can put a rush on them, but it could be up to two weeks before everything is in."

"Two weeks?" Darien fidgeted a moment before blurting out, "I gotta wait two weeks to find out if the baby's mine?"

Claire looked mildly disappointed. "No, actually, that part of the testing will be done in about three days."

Darien shrugged, hands in his back pockets, looking down at his feet as the toe of one shoe traced arcs across the floor. "Guess it seems kinda selfish, worrying about that when Mei-Lin is so worried about whether her baby is okay. I should.... I should be worried about it too, shouldn't I?" He looked up at her then with a lost look in his eyes, seeming far younger than the swaggering scoundrel he tried to be.

Claire's own look softened in return.

"Well, Mei-Lin knows the baby is hers. It's easier for her to get emotionally invested in it."

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense...." He wandered over to the exam chair he used to receive his counteragent shots in and slouched against it. "Just makes me feel like my priorities are all messed up, y'know?"

"It's not that you don't care at all, is it? You just care about it like a friend's baby, rather than your own."

"Right, which it might, or might not, be." He ran his fingers through hair that was starting to droop, trying to get it stand upright properly. "Sometimes, I feel like, I dunno, like maybe I do want to start a family, become a regular, responsible guy. And other times, it's like I don't want anything to do with 'em, like I just want Chen-Po to come back and marry her and make the whole thing go away."

"Ambivalence is perfectly normal, Darien. It's nothing to feel guilty about. Even expectant mothers have days when they want to take it back, when they feel like they're not ready."

Claire had been moving about the Keep, doing unknown things to various bits of equipment and sample containers. Now she came back over to Darien, ripping open a plastic package and removing what looked sort of like a long Q-tip.

"I need you to open your mouth wide and hold your tongue out of the way to one side." She reached up towards his face with the swab and he caught her wrist and pushed it away.

"Wait, wait, what is this?"

"I need a sample for comparison." Darien had clearly forgotten her mention of it earlier. "With the DNA collected in the amniocentesis, Darien. I thought you wanted to know if you were the father?"

Darien replied by opening his mouth wide as instructed. Claire rubbed the swab against the inside of his cheek, then pushed it into a plastic container and labeled it.

"So that's it? No needles?"

"No needles. Just epithelials."

"Sorry, epi-what?"

"Epithelial cells," came a voice from the doorway. Hobbes strolled into the room, taking in the test kit and the container Claire still held. He spotted the box of test kits on the counter and picked one up. "Gonna get an answer to the question of the day, partner?"

"Yeah, except it'll be the answer of three days from now."

"Maybe I should keep a couple of these in the van, just in case. Could use a little DNA evidence now and then." Hobbes stuck a pair of the kits into his jacket pocket. Claire glanced at Darien.

"Do you want me to show you how to use that, Bobby?"

"Oh, I already know how to use them," Hobbes replied. "Keep the sterile portions from touching anything but the sample area, swab the buccal membranes, avoiding contact with the tongue, and return the swab to the sterile container for PCR enhancement and restriction-enzyme fragment length polymorphism analysis."

Claire's mouth hung open until Darien reached over and closed it.

"Hobbes, have you been getting into the Nobel DNA again?"

"Huh?" Hobbes looked up at them for the first time since rattling off the instructions. His eyes widened as he realized what he'd said, but he shrugged it off. "Hey, I've had some training, you know. So I remembered the big words this time; I told you before I'm smart, didn't I?"

"Yeah, Bobby, just not usually so... verbose about it. At least not about the scientific aspects."

"So, you can run this test just with Darien and baby, you don't need DNA from Chen-Po Li for comparison, too?"

"Well, I'll also run a sample from Mei-Lin. Half the baby's DNA is from her, so anything on its sample that doesn't match hers, has to be from the father. Ideally, we'd have samples from both, ah, candidates, but as we don't have a sample from Chen-Po, I can still run the analysis on the samples we do have and come up with a reasonably accurate answer."

Hobbes nodded. "But it would be most accurate with a sample from him. So can we get one? Have Mei-Lin give Chen-Po a call, ask him to make a little donation?"

"He walked out on her, Hobbes." Fawkes replied, a little too quickly. "If she doesn't feel like talking to him, I'm not gonna push her into it."

"There's a phone in her room, Bobby. I've told the switchboard to get her an outside line if she wants it."

"No, you're right. She shouldn't have to talk to him if she doesn't want to. Probably just as well she's staying with us, then. Catch you later, partner. Keep." Hobbes wandered back out the open door to the Keep.

"Well that was strange." Darien observed.

"Yes," Claire agreed. She went over to her computer and pulled open a drawer nearby, taking out the napkin with its doodle of Quicksilver molecules. "Very strange...." she murmured.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hobbes tailed Darien all the way home without incident. Fawkes was taking a different route than usual, with more turns, most of which he took at the last second without signaling first. Hobbes was reassured his younger partner was at least taking the situation seriously. He waited until he saw the lights come on in Darien's apartment. He wanted to go up and check for signs of break-in himself, but knew Fawkes wouldn't understand.

His partner safe, Hobbes headed towards a pre-arranged meeting. Balboa park, past the fountains and museums, over near the zoo but away from the entrance, where the loudspeakers from one of the animal acts inside could be heard quite clearly even though the action was out of sight. Hobbes arrived early and spent the extra time scoping out the area.

Chen-Po showed up on time, looking anxious. "How is Mei-Lin?" he asked before he'd even closed the distance between them. Hobbes had to give him credit, his first concern was her well-being.

"She's fine. Our doc did an amniocentesis, trying to clear up those funky test results she had."

Li frowned. "She was very nervous about that. I wish I could have been there...."

"Don't worry, Fawkes was there to hold her hand." Hobbes felt a little thrill at hitting home with that one, but seeing the look on Chen-Po's face made him think twice. "I'm sorry, that was hostile."

"No...." Chen-Po paced a few yards down the path and back. "No, if she had to go through that without me, then I'm glad there was someone with her. Someone who... cares about her."

"Yeah, well, Fawkes, he's a real caring guy."

"And the baby? Everything is alright?"

"Yeah, about that baby...." Hobbes pulled out one of the DNA sample kits. Chen-Po raised an eyebrow, reading the label. "Seems to me we got a question here whose answer might be kinda important. Maybe Mei-Lin will want to know that answer before she makes any commitments."

Chen-Po allowed Agent Hobbes to collect a sample. "Was this at her request?" he asked after it was finished.

"Nope. No, this was my idea. Remember, I've got a partner to whom these results are gonna be pretty important, too."

Hobbes started to turn to go, but Chen-Po reached out and caught his upper arm. Hobbes jerked free angrily, his hand moving towards his gun before he got ahold of himself. He did allow himself to move back several steps. "Don't do that!"

"I'm sorry. Please, wait. I have to see Mei-Lin. I have to speak to her."

"If she wanted to talk to you she'd have called, now, wouldn't she?"

"Maybe."

"Test is gonna take three days. Might make her reconsider."

"I don't want to wait. Could you please ask her? If you ask her, and she says no, then I'll....no. That would be a lie. I will not go away, she's too important to me. But I would rather she agrees to see me, as soon as possible."

"Okay, Charlie Brown," Hobbes said, with a slight emphasis on the Brown part, which Chen-Po smiled ruefully at. "If she agrees to a meeting, I'll arrange it."

"Thank you."

Hobbes tailed Chen-Po, but didn't have far to go, as the former agent walked along the fence to the zoo entrance. He turned, catching sight of Hobbes and looking not at all surprised to see him.

"Nothing else I can do," he shrugged, pulling out a zoo membership pass. "If you're going to leave me waiting, I might as well find some way to keep myself occupied."

Hobbes grinned, remembering how much he liked the man. That didn't mean he'd trust him, and he still waited out of sight by the exit to make sure Chen-Po wasn't doubling back on him, but he still enjoyed the image of a kick-ass intelligence agent standing amongst screaming kiddies and watching the polar bears or penguins.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back at the Keep, early the next morning, Claire was already intent on her computers. Hobbes strolled in through the open door.

"I could get used to this, Keepy. I mean, no card key, no locks to get in the way of dropping by for a visit...."

"Yes, well, I wanted Mei-Lin to be able to get ahold of me easily."

"Thought you were going back to your place again?"

"Well, I had something I was working on, and Mei-Lin was sleeping, so I figured why wake her? I caught a few hours sleep and got an early start."

"What about the guards? Did you send them home?"

"No, they're around. And so are you, which is unexpected but fortuitous."

Hobbes pulled out the DNA sample kit. "Gotcha a present, Keep. Chen-Po Li, for comparison in your gels there." He nodded towards a gel electrophoresis setup on the counter. "Is it too late to add another column?"

"No, actually." She took the kit from him and began working on it. "The other samples are still in the preparation stage. I can start them all at once." After a few minutes of fiddling, she left a beaker of liquid stirring with a magnet bar and returned to her computer.

She pulled up a now-familiar image, the electron-cloud image. Next to it was another image, similar but with a few atoms shifted around and modified. Hobbes realized that the second version was identical to his doodle on the napkin.

"I checked out your drawing, and it's a functional variation on the hormone. They're not just mistakes. The odds of accidentally coming up with a similar molecule that would do the same job are too small to even consider."

"Okay, so I must've seen that one instead. You got a lotta molecules on this thing, right?"

"No, because this is a new variation. I've only ever worked on two versions of this molecule." She called up another image. "This is the original version."

"Original?"

"Yes. Before it was modified by gene therapy." She waited for Bobby to put it together.

"Gene thera....You mean Arnaud's, you mean the cure Arnaud gave you?" Bobby whistled low. "So this first molecule is the cured version, and that last one is the one that caused Quicksilver madness?"

"Well, there are some other hormones that were also modified, but for this particular one, yes, that about sums it up."

"Wait, so what about this doodlely molecule here? You said it's functional, which kind is it? Cured or not cured?" He peered at it, suddenly certain. "This is a different cure, isn't it? This is something independent of what Arnaud did."

"As far as I can tell with computer modeling, this molecule doesn't trigger any of the Quicksilver madness effects. It would take a lot more work before I could determine whether it would be a successful substitute in vivo, but there's every indication it would be."

"So the question of the day is...."

"...how did that molecule end up in your doodle?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Darien entered Mei-Lin's lab. She was curled on her side, a pillow between her knees and another under her head. He stood watching her for a moment.

She was on her left side, her hair falling away behind her head instead of hanging in front of her face. She'd fallen asleep in her clothes, her shirt pulled up slightly to make room for the fetal monitor strapped to her abdomen, its monitor quietly blinking behind the bed. The scars on the right side of her face and arm were clearly visible. He wondered if she had rolled over in her sleep, or if she really was getting less self-conscious about them. The slight smile on her lips made him hope it was the latter.

That smile, the curve of her belly, the way her hand rested on her abdomen... she was a picture-perfect image of a woman with child. And the rest of her looked pretty damn perfect too. Darien felt that little tickle in the back of his brain that meant the Quicksilver gland was starting to react to his reacting to her, and reluctantly turned his thoughts in other directions.

That naturally led to the life inside her and his possible part in it. Darien tried to picture what that would be like. Holding a baby. Part of him was sure he would drop it, or break it accidentally, or something. Changing a baby. How the heck do you get those diapers to stay on? What happens if you can't figure out how to get it to stop crying?

Enough of that. That's only part of the time, right? Darien pictured the times when the baby would be laughing, or smiling, or eating. Little airplane noises with little spoons coming in for a landing in little mouths. And later, teaching the kid to ride a bike, play basketball, drive a car. That would be cool, he decided.

Mei-Lin shifted, stretched, and opened her eyes. He waited to see how she would react to him standing in the doorway.

She smiled. Not a broad, sexy smile or anything like that. It was just that she was happier to see him than annoyed at being watched. Good enough.

"Morning. Sleep well?"

She looked at the clock in surprise. "It's morning?"

"Yeah. Guess you were pretty sound asleep, Keeper figured you might as well stay here."

"No wonder I feel so well-rested." Her stomach gurgled audibly. "And hungry."

"You, you want me to go out and get you something?"

Mei-Lin swung her feet off the bed and got to her feet. Darien went to help her, but she'd already finished by the time he took her arm. "Actually, Claire left some yogurt in that little refrigerator."

"Okay, yogurt, fridge. Uh, let me get it, so you don't have to, you know, bend over...."

Mei-Lin was crossing the room towards a side door.

"Where are you....oh." He turned back to the little fridge, discovering not only yogurt, but milk and some fruit and the ubiquitous leftover take-out Chinese food. "What is it with the Keeper and yogurt and Chinese food, anyway?" he muttered to himself. He grabbed the yogurt and an apple.

He'd eaten half the apple by the time Mei-Lin emerged from the bathroom. She'd cleaned up a little, changing into fresh clothes and brushing her hair. Darien had just taken a big bite, and he awkwardly tried to chew and swallow fast so he could talk, his cheeks bulging out and a trickle of juice running down his chin.

Mei-Lin laughed. "I'm sorry," she said, grabbing a paper towel from the dispenser over the sink and handing it to him. Darien wiped his face and managed to swallow the mouthful without choking.

"The, uh, yogurt is over there by the bed."

Darien finished his apple while she ate, the silence somewhere between awkward and companionable. Mei-Lin had tucked her feet up under her thighs as she leaned sideways against the raised upper half of the hospital bed. Her hair was back to its usual curtain covering the scarred half of her face.

"So what have you been up to since, you know, defecting?"

"We found a town to live in, a lab for me to work in and a private security job for Chen-Po. The work is not nearly as challenging as it was back in China, nothing to match the work on invisibility, but it kept me occupied. I believe Chen-Po was also finding his work somewhat dissatisfying."

"That's, that's too bad. I mean, I'm kinda starting to enjoy my job. Don't tell the Fat Man, though."

"Why do you feel the need to hide that you enjoy your work?"

"I dunno, I've hated my job for so long, it's kinda become part of my personality. Besides, if word gets out I like my job, they might get the wrong idea, start thinking I like being stuck with this gland, which, by the way, I do not."

"Of course, the side effect must be very uncomfortable."

"Uh, yeah. Hurts like hell." Darien had forgotten his earlier deception. While Mei-Lin had been among the MSS, it had seemed like a good idea. Now, he wasn't so certain. But now didn't seem like the right time to come clean. Kind of like it had never seemed like the right time with Casey. He promised himself he would talk to Hobbes or the Keeper about it. Later.

For now, he'd settle for changing the subject.

"Got any hobbies? Read any good books?"

"I enjoy poetry."

"Really? Like what?"

Mei-Lin recited something. Her deep yet breathy voice became stronger as she spoke, the syllables rhythmic, the words almost melodic. But it was in Chinese, and Darien couldn't understand any of it.

"That was nice," Darien said. She looked disappointed, and he fumbled for something more decisive. "That was real nice."

"And what about you? You were playing billiards when I found you in that bar, is that still how you amuse yourself?"

"Uh, no. No, no, no." Darien shook his head. "I don't play billiards. I shoot pool. There is a world of difference between the two. Billiards is all rich and prissy and formal. Pool is done with style and attitude." He pantomimed sinking a few shots with an imaginary cue stick, twirling the cue and shooting behind his back with a little wiggle of his hips.

"You are still a very strange man, Fawkes."

"I try. But actually, that, that's normal. That's the way it's played, at least where I play."

The conversation petered out there. Darien fidgeted awkwardly, poking around the counters and cabinets. "You were a pretty good fighter, too. You still keeping up with the martial arts?"

"It is difficult to find an instructor here who is advanced enough to teach me anything. Besides, I am starting to get off-balance, and I can't exactly get into combat now, even sparring. It is not nearly as interesting to practice forms and strikes without that challenge, although it is necessary to keep in shape."

"Yeah? Well, uh, Bobby's been teaching me some stuff. You know, Wing Chun, Hapkido."

"A jack of all trades is master of none."

"You like quotes?" Darien asked, delighted at the thought of someone who shared his favorite pastime.

"Not particularly. It was just a phrase I'd heard that seemed appropriate."

"Oh."

Another awkward silence.

It was a relief when the door opened. Alex strode in, taking in the tableau in a glance.

"Sorry to interrupt your family bonding session, Fawkes, but Claire needs you in the Keep."

"Okay, uh," he nodded to Mei-Lin, "then I'll be back later, okay?"

"Take your time," she inclined her head in return, much more gracefully.

"Oh, and Fawkes? She wanted you to get a puzzle book, she says the one you were quizzing Hobbes from." Alex's tone made it clear she was skeptical of any puzzle Hobbes could solve.

"Quizzing Hobbes?" It took a moment to click. "Oh, crap." Suddenly Darien looked very worried. "I think it's in my desk drawer in the office." He hurried out.

"Everything okay in here?"

"Yes. I'm fine." Alex started to go. "Except I... could use some company."

The agent turned back, one eyebrow raised. "Fawkes wasn't enough company for you?"

"It was a bit awkward. It seems we do not have very much in common. But I find I am reluctant to be alone. I would appreciate it if you would stay with me for a while."

Alex remembered her own pregnancy, much of it spent alone, with no one to rely on but herself. Usually she liked her life like that, but there had been something about her condition that left her vulnerable to weepy moods. Hormones, perhaps. She supposed it must be worse for someone used to having a partner to support her, suddenly cut off from that support.

"Alright," Alex said, crossing the room to perch on the end of the bed, "what shall we talk about?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Act Three

Pierre Corneille noted that, "The fire which seems extinguished often slumbers beneath the ashes." I was starting to worry that the smoldering embers in Hobbes' head were starting to flare up into another conflagration that would engulf his mind....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Darien skidded through the open door to the Keep, puzzle book clutched in one hand. He found Claire and Hobbes at work at the newer of her computers, the screen showing a series of blobs of color. He moved closer until he was peering over their shoulders at models of molecules of a type he remembered vaguely from his short stay in college.

"No," Hobbes was saying, "None of these look familiar."

"Keep trying. It's a long shot, but if there's one, there's a chance there's more."

"What's up, Claire?" Darien watched the pair jump as he spoke just behind them. He didn't try to sneak up on people; it was just that his walk was naturally quiet, made even more so by his years as a sneak thief. Still, the result was often amusing.

"Darien! Just who I wanted to speak to." She steered Fawkes towards the other end of the room. Hobbes started to rise to join them, but Claire pushed down on his shoulder. "No, Bobby, you stay here and keep working on this. Please?"

They reached the far end of the Keep, behind the tanks of fish and venomous reptiles, and Darien held up the puzzle book, his concern all over his face. "You mind telling me what's going on, Keep? I mean, I remember the last time we had this puzzle book in here. And that little thing with the DNA kits? Please tell me that's not happening to Hobbes again."

"I don't think so," Claire reassured him, taking the book and leafing through it. "You marked questions you'd asked him?"

"Yeah, yeah, when we wanted to make sure he was back to his old self, you asked me to figure out something to ask him that he hadn't heard before."

"Good. That makes it a lot easier to test my theory."

"Theory? What theory?"

Claire hushed him and led him over to stand behind Hobbes, whose attention was still on the computer. She pointed to one of the marked questions, mouthing the word 'casual' to him. Darien took the book, using all his con-man talents to keep his voice light and keep his fear for Hobbes out of it.

"Hey, Hobbsey?"

"What is it, Fawkes, I'm trying to concentrate here."

"Oh, just a quick question. There have been orders for 200 Rolls Royces, 115 Vauxhalls, and 500 Hondas. How many orders have there been for Renaults?"

"Fifty." Hobbes tossed off distractedly.

Claire saw the worry in Darien's eyes and tried to convey reassurance. She pointed at a second question, this one not marked.

"A certain month has five Thursdays in it and the date of the second Sunday is the 13th. What is the date of the third Tuesday?"

"How the hell should I know?" Bobby turned away from the computer, irritated at the interruption. Then he spotted the Mensa quiz book. "What the -- " He looked at the computer screen and back, mentally playing back the tape of the last minute. "Claire? Fawkes? What's going on?"

"I'd kinda like to know that myself," Darien told the Keeper.

"Am I coming down with that genius virus thing again, Keeper? Is that what's happening?"

"No, Bobby, I don't think so."

"Oh, you don't think so? Could you let me know when you know for sure? This is only my sanity we're talking about here."

"Calm down, Bobby, I think we've just proven my theory." She pointed to the questions in the quiz book. "You were able to answer one of these without even thinking about it, but you didn't have a clue about the second. Now, the difference between them is that the first question is one that you had heard before, when you were the genius, and had worked out the solution to at that time. The second question was one you had never heard until now." Both agents looked uncertain. "Well, don't you see? If Bobby were becoming a genius again, he would have been able to solve both questions."

Darien frowned. "So he's, what, only partway a genius? I don't get it."

"Look at what he said about the DNA test kit. It was all information Bobby would have been exposed to before, not something he had to work out on the spot." She pulled out the napkin, by now worn and torn at the edges. "I think this diagram Bobby made was also something he knew once, perhaps something he figured out while he was a genius.

"The common link between them all is memory! Bobby isn't becoming a genius again, he's remembering things he knew when he was a genius."

Darien turned to Bobby, understanding in his eyes. "Hobbes, you remember when you woke up, you were back to your old self, you told me that the stuff you knew was all still there? The information was there, you just couldn't reach it, couldn't understand it anymore?"

"Forever on the tip of my tongue. I remember." He turned to the Keeper. "I think you're right. I keep getting these flashes of deja vu. I see things, and I think, 'Yeah, that's right,' or 'No, that's wrong.' But I can't pin it down any better than that."

"Can you remember the circumstances you might have come up with that molecule?"

"I'm not sure... Let me try something." Hobbes closed his eyes, his breathing becoming slow and regular, his face relaxing. His partner didn't think he'd ever seen Hobbes' face looking relaxed before; even in his sleep, lines of worry creased his features.

"What's he doing?" Darien whispered.

"It looks like he's trying to recreate a hypnotic state. He said Dr. Martin was trying hypnosis to help him recover blocked memories." She snapped her fingers, glancing guiltily at Bobby, hoping she hadn't disturbed him, before explaining. "That must be it! They were trying to get at blocked memories, only they found the wrong ones."

"His new shrink wouldn't have know what sort of booby-traps Hobbes has lying around in his head."

Hobbes shivered slightly as he opened his eyes, his face clouding again with stress and worry.

"Bobby? Did you come up with something?"

"I'm not sure. I think... I think maybe I knew stuff about the gland. About how it worked, about how Quicksilver worked, everything. But that's all still locked away. I couldn't remember any of it!"

"It's okay, Bobby. I don't think it's anything we need to know anymore."

"Guys? What are you talking about?" Darien got the distinct impression he was coming in late to this conversation.

"Bobby made a doodle on a napkin the other day, which turns out to have been a variant form of one of the hormones secreted by the Quicksilver gland. One of the ones related to Quicksilver madness, except this variant wouldn't cause the madness. When he was a super-genius, he might have been able to draw on things he'd seen and heard about the gland to come up with some sort of cure for the madness. And now he's remembering bits and pieces of that cure."

"But you've already cured the Quicksilver madness."

"Exactly. It's fascinating to know there may have been at least one equally successful option, but at this point it's only a novelty."

"Yeah, yeah, but what if there's other stuff in Hobbes' head?" He turned to his partner. "Do you think you knew how to get the gland out?"

"I don't know, partner." Hobbes shook his head. "I don't know if I knew or if I didn't know." Hobbes looked distinctly uneasy, eyes flicking about the room, his body taut.

Darien rested a hand on his partner's shoulder. "Hobbes, did you notice you remember best when you're not trying? That picture you drew, that was just idle doodling. When I asked you questions while you were at the computer, you weren't paying attention to it, weren't thinking about it, and the answer just popped out."

"So you want me to just ignore it? To try to not think about it?"

"We've got time, Hobbes. Just keep scratch paper handy, or get in the habit of telling me what's in your head, or something. Maybe another doodle will show up and give the Keeper here something new to work with."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mei-Lin tilted her head to the side and glanced over at Alex. "Did it hurt much?"

"Childbirth? Yes and no. There's a lot of pain, but you're so focused on the end result that it's not nearly as bad as pain like that would be any other time. You sure do ache afterwards, though."

"At least I'll be able to sleep on my stomach again."

"And go more than an hour without having to find a bathroom."

"And fit back into normal clothes."

"Oh, that will take at least another nine months. The weight didn't come on overnight, it won't come off all at once either."

"I'm sure that thrilled your husband."

Alex held up her left hand to display the lack of a ring. "No husband. Just me."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Plenty of women are raising children on their own."

"Divorce, death, break-ups... Like the way Chen-Po left."

"At least you had someone for a while."

"Didn't you?"

Alex shook her head. "James was conceived from an anonymous donor."

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand that. Why raise a child alone?"

"I wanted to have children, and it got to a point where if I didn't start trying, I wasn't ever going to be able to. I figured I still have a chance to get married at any age. Mother nature isn't so kind."

"Weren't you afraid of being alone?"

"It's not the end of the world, to be without a man. I figured that I was a lot better prepared for it than a woman whose husband dies or divorces her, who expected to have a partner and had to scramble to adjust to being alone."

"Like me."

Alex moved over next to Mei-Lin and wrapped an arm around her. "You're not so bad off. Really. You're intelligent, well educated, physically fit. Your salary has got to be higher than the average for a family of four by several thousand at least. You've struck out on your own and succeeded before, when you came to Darien with the backpack."

"I was scared to death the whole time."

"And I'll bet you're scared to death now. So was I. So are women who do have husbands."

"It's not an option I'd ever considered that way before."

"Look, I'm not saying it's a goal. I'd rather raise my son with a proper father too. But if you don't have a relationship to draw from, or if you were stuck in a miserable one, or end up divorced a few years down the line, then you're better off on your own."

Alex's beeper chose that moment to go off. She looked at the number and swore softly. "I have to go."

"You've given me a lot to think about. Thank you."

"Are you okay? Would you like me to see if Fawkes can come back and sit with you for a while?"

Mei-Lin hesitated a moment. "Yes, I think I'd like that."

"I'll see if he can bring that puzzle book, that will give you something to talk about."

And with that Alex was out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hobbes barely noticed his partner's departure. He had gone back to looking at molecules, hoping something would trigger a memory. He didn't find anything specific, only the occasional flicker of recognition. That, and a growing sense that something was off in what he was seeing, that something was not right in general.

"How are you doing, Bobby? Any impressions?"

"Not exactly. I just... I feel like there's something wrong here, like the pictures aren't quite right."

"Well," Claire said, thinking aloud, "if you did come up with a different cure than Arnaud did, maybe that's all it is. You're subconscious is expecting to see one version and sees another. Or maybe it's because there are some models in that collection that are pre-cure.

"Yeah, maybe. It's just starting to get to me, you know?"

"Well, like Darien said, it's not urgent." She gestured to the counter. "I'm already working on Mei-Lin and the genetic testing on her baby. I wouldn't have much chance to work on something new until later anyway."

"Yeah. I hope the kid doesn't get too attached to the idea of being a parent, so it won't be too much of a letdown when he isn't."

"Why don't you go get some lunch, Bobby? Give your brain a chance to assimilate all the buried memories that have been accumulating so far. You can come back later to try again."

"Or, you could try working on some cases." The Official emerged from behind the frosted glass barrier, Eberts trailing behind as usual.

"All due respect, sir, I don't think running off on some case is what I need to be doing right now. Fawkes is a sensitive guy, he's going to need some support when he finds out the results."

"Actually, Robert, you wouldn't have to leave the building. I could pull all the unsolved case files and you could go over them."

Bobby and Claire exchanged a look. "You know what, that sounds like an excellent idea, right, Keepy?"

"Yes, perhaps you will remember something useful. Just don't feel like you have to if it's not there." Hobbes nodded and headed for the door, Eberts trailing behind.

"I could also pull any files flagged as having incomplete paperwork."

"Don't push it, Eberts."

The Official turned back to the Keeper as they vanished down the hall. "How are things going with Mei-Lin and her baby?"

"So far, so good. I'm not finding any evidence of the Quicksilver residue the earlier tests indicated. Perhaps it's broken down to undetectable levels now. The only question left is whether the Quicksilver in Mei-Lin's bloodstream at the time of conception and early gestation will have had any teratogenic effect." At the Official's blank look, she elaborated, "whether it's caused any birth defects."

"And I gather you have started a paternity test?"

"That will be done in another couple of days."

"Excellent. Keep me informed."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Darien perched on a stool next to Mei-Lin's bed, his feet hooked through the rungs and leaned forward earnestly.

"Mei-Lin, I wanted to talk to you about something. About..." he gestured towards her belly.

"Perhaps that should wait until Dr. Keeply's tests are completed."

"No, I don't think this should wait. Because I don't know, if the tests come out, whether you'll want to hear me then. And I want you to know that I've thought about this, and I'm not saying this because I have to, and that I mean it."

"Alright," Mei-Lin said, shifting around to lean sideways against the raised top of the bed so that she could see Darien better, giving him her full attention.

"I know that I might not be the best parent a kid could hope for. I know that I used to be a thief, and I'm not in the safest job in the world, and I haven't been acting like a responsible grown-up for nearly as much of my life as some people would think I should have. I mean, like you said, I'm a very strange guy." Unable to sit still, he unhooked his feet from the stool and began tilting it forwards, shifting his upper body back to maintain his center of gravity and to keep from shoving his face too close to Mei-Lin's.

"And it still pleases you to be strange." she said, smiling.

"Yeah, but, uh, there are more important things now. And that responsible grown-up thing?" He let the stool thunk back to solid footing. "I think I'm getting the hang of it now. Maybe... maybe even enough for some other responsible grown-up to be able to trust me to do the responsible grown-up things. For someone who isn't as responsible or, or grown-up.

"I'm not saying I've got a handle on this, not exactly, I mean, I'm still freaking out, on the inside. But I think that's sort of how most new parents feel." He laughed nervously, wiggling in his seat again. "Parents. Now I've done it, I've said the word. And I know we don't know whether it fits or not, yet. But if it does, I'm, I'm gonna do the right thing."

"The right thing?" Mei-Lin sat up straighter, one hand clutching the edge of the pillow.

"Not the do-the-right-thing thing, at least, not, not necessarily. I mean that would be up to you, too, you two." He gestured at her midsection again. "But I'll try to do right by this kid, to support it, to do my part to try to help raise it." He ran his hand through his hair, spiking it up even more than usual. "I hate saying 'it.' I'll try to make, well, to make him or her into a good person, a happy person. I may not be able to do everything, but I can learn. I want to learn."

Unable to sit still any longer, he bounced to his feet and began fiddling with the small mountain of baby things piled against the wall nearby.

"I never thought about having kids before," he said, wiggling a small stuffed rabbit at her, "except, you know, as kind of an abstract thing, might be nice some day. But I think, it's really pretty cool." He nestled the rabbit inside the depression at the top of a bottle sterilizer. "And even if it isn't, if I'm not Little Whosit's father, this whole thing has helped me realize that. So I'll still owe you one." He hovered by the bed now, nervously touching the edge of the fitted sheet but not quite reaching far enough to be an overture for direct contact.

Mei-Lin smiled, her lip quivering. "Thank you, Fawkes."

"I think you can call me Darien now."

"Darien. Thank you. It is a great relief to know that, if the baby is yours, I won't be on my own."

He could hear the unspoken question there. What if the baby wasn't his?

There was a small, noble part of him that wanted to say, I don't care if the baby isn't mine. If I'm ready to commit, if I'm willing to make a life that's linked to both of yours, I shouldn't give up on that just because of genetics, because my sperm wasn't the fastest. But there was a whole lot bigger part of him that knew, if he was let off the hook, he'd feel a lot more relief than disappointment. At least he hoped he would, because he just couldn't bring himself to make that sort of promise.

"Have you talked to Chen-Po at all? Let him know you're alright?"

"I tried our number last night, but there was no answer. I... chickened out before trying his cell phone." She turned her face away, always to the right so that her scars didn't show, despite the fact that her body was turned to the left this time.

"Look at it this way. What have you got to lose? If you really don't have him now, then things can't get any worse on that front. And maybe you really have more than you think you do." She slowly turned back towards him. He reached up and the backs of his fingers traced across the scars on her face. He hooked her hair behind her ear and cupped her chin, thumb gently caressing her cheek. "He didn't stop loving you after the accident. He left his job, his country, to be with you."

"He thinks I have betrayed him."

"Then explain it to him. If he can't deal with it, then you move on from there, but I think he deserves a chance. Because... I know I'd want one." His hand fell back to his side, but their faces remained close for a long moment before she shifted away a little, breaking the tension, and he backed away in response, back to conversational distance.

"I think you've convinced me. But perhaps you should have waited for the test results before telling me this. If I speak with Chen-Po --"

"If this baby can be raised by two parents who love him, and love each other, then I'll count myself lucky. I can still, you know, I can still be Uncle Darien or something. I can still be in his life. But let's face it, it really will be about him, not about us, either way."

She touched her hand to her abdomen. "You called the baby him. Do you have a feeling about it?"

Darien remembered his dream. Mei-Lin holding a baby, a baby with red eyes. "...just like his father." A little shiver ran up his neck and made his hair stand up. "No, not really. Just got tired of, you know, trying to come up with nonsexist, er, nongendered words," he dissembled.

"I would like a little boy. I think it would please Chen-Po as well."

Darien didn't say anything, but with the memory of the dream freshly recalled to mind, he was really, really hoping for a girl.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Claire stopped by a little later. She found Darien and Mei-Lin tête-à-tête, heads bent over the puzzle book, trying to solve a maze with one of them starting at each end. Their hands kept bumping into each other as their paths crossed, pushing against each other jokingly to get where they were headed. Finally, almost before they realized it, their pencil tips touched, the maze completed. They turned towards each other, perfectly in synch, leaving their faces mere inches apart, for several long seconds. Claire waited a moment to see whether they would move together into the kiss that was almost palpable in the air between them, or break apart and release the tension, but she ran out of patience before they had decided.

"Darien?" She pretended she'd just stepped in, already in smooth motion before their startled jump had pulled their heads apart and up to look at the newcomer. "Ah, so you did bring the puzzle book."

"Yeah, why, did you need it? I thought...."

"No, no, I just wondered when I didn't see it." She turned to Mei-Lin. "I just wanted to let you know that the RFLP analysis is underway."

"Uh, riff lip?" Darien asked. "That some kinda Mick Jagger guitar thing?"

"RFLP. The paternity test. We run segments from Mei-Lin and from the baby, and compare that with both potential fathers, and it's very easy to tell which one is a match."

"And how long does that... wait a minute...." Darien went from one sort of interest to another. "Both potential fathers?"

Claire realized her slip immediately. It took Mei-Lin a moment longer to catch on. "You have seen Chen-Po?"

"No, I haven't." she quickly asserted. "One of our agents supplied the sample, and no, I don't know where he got it."

Darien rolled his eyes. "'One of our agents'? Claire, don't try to con a con." He pushed past her to the door. She called after him but he ignored her. She turned back to find Mei-Lin trying to unstrap the fetal monitor.

Bursting into the office they shared, Darien found Hobbes at his desk, an open case file in front of him. His desk was turned so that he could face the door and sit with his back to the wall. As the door banged against the wall, Bobby's hands emerged from beneath the desk, holding his gun in a practiced grip aimed straight at the doorway.

"Jeeze, Fawkes! You trying to get yourself killed?" He thumbed the safety, putting the gun on the desk within easy reach.

"Not the first time you've aimed a gun at me, partner. Now what the hell is this about you talking to Chen-Po without telling anyone?"

"I told someone," Hobbes said, sinking back behind the desk. One hand snagged the gun, which disappeared back behind the cheap, scratched metal. "I told the Keeper."

"Yeah, but you didn't tell me, and you didn't tell Mei-Lin."

"Keeper didn't tell you either." Hobbes was leafing through the files again. Darien came over to the desk and yanked the top file away, slamming it closed and tossing it behind him.

"Claire didn't go hunt the guy down, you did!"

Hobbes jumped up, stomping over to collect his file, shouting at Darien. "Hunt the guy down, huh? You wanna know who was hunting who, Fawkes?" He scooped up the folder and slapped it back on the desk, pages askew. "Chen-Po was hunting you, my friend."

"He what?" The anger drained out of Darien, but Hobbes was still building steam. Darien realized belatedly that Hobbes' gun was again clutched in his hand, finger on the trigger guard.

"That tail you shook, you think that was just some random guy? Or did it ever occur to you that it might be somebody you knew. Or more like, somebody who knew you knew his fiancée, and maybe that pissed him off?" He sneered the emphasis on the biblical phrasing. "I keep tellin' ya, Fawkes, and you keep leavin' yourself open. You knew Chen-Po had been at the Agency, the Fat Man let him in himself, and that's where he picked up your trail, right on our own doorstep. And it took you how long to pick up on it? Musta been ten minutes!"

"Wait, how'd you... you were following me?" Darien stared a moment, trying to decide how pissed off to be about that. Then he shook his head, tabling the issue until the first matter was settled. "So how'd you end up with Chen-Po's DNA?"

"I tailed the tail, Fawkes. Except I did a lot better job than he did. He didn't see me until he'd lost you and I showed myself."

"What did you do then?"

Hobbes shrugged, calming down a little with the talking. "Talked. I mean, he'd lost you, you hadn't led him to Mei-Lin, I'm the next thing on his list. 'Cept he knows he can't take me, so we wind up with a little verbal fencing instead, 'cos he hasn't yet learned that I am the master there too."

"Bobby Hobbes-speak aside, what did Chen-Po have to say?"

Hobbes scowled. "Eh, he said he wanted to talk with Mei-Lin. I told him to steer clear of the Agency and of you especially, and if Mei-Lin wanted to talk, she could call him."

"So he knew Mei-Lin was here? Is he back in with the MSS or something?"

"Nah, he didn't even know they'd had her. Why do you think he was tailing you? He wanders around thinking, gets back and she'd gone, he figured she split again, like last time. Thought she'd gone to you, God knows why...."

Mei-Lin appeared in the doorway, the Keeper at her elbow, so fast it was obvious they'd been listening from the hallway. "He thought I had left him?"

"That's what he said." Hobbes had the decency to look a little embarrassed, and the gun he'd been absently waving around disappeared somewhere on his person, but Hobbes stuck to his paranoia. "I still say he could be after Fawkes or you."

Mei-Lin shook her head definitively. "No. I know Chen-Po. He is stubborn, especially in matters of honor, but he would not harm me, or force me to go with him. Remember, last time, he came after me, joined me here, even though I would have been just as happy in China once we got past the issue of... my face."

Hobbes scowled at the suggestion that anyone could be as happy in China as in the United States. "Okay, so maybe, maybe he wouldn't hurt you, but what about Fawkes? He's the one who trashed Chen-Po's honor this time."

"It wasn't like that. Perhaps, if I talk to him, Chen-Po can understand that."

"Maybe you should just wait for the paternity results, before you get him involved in this again."

"Speaking of which...." Darien dragged the conversation back towards its original track. "How'd you end up with a sample of Chen-Po's DNA to compare?"

"He let me collect a sample. I'm sure he wants to know just as much as you do, kid."

"But, Bobby," Darien asked sharply, "Claire didn't open that package of sample kits until after the night I got tailed."

"Yeah, so? I arranged a meeting so I could get a sample from him."

"Without asking or telling anyone else?"

"Nobody else needed to know."

"Mr. Hobbes, do you think you could arrange another meeting?" Mei-Lin's tone was casual, but her eyes were intense.

"Sure, I could, but you're here," his glance took in the fact that Mei-Lin was now on her feet and away from the monitors and equipment. "And I'll be damned if I let him back into the Agency now that we don't have to."

The Keeper spoke up now. "Mei-Lin is stable enough, she should be fine for short trips. Just no more downtown chase scenes."

Hobbes glowered. "Okay, okay. If the Fat Man clears it, I'll make arrangements for today's exciting adventures in shepherding. Just for the record, let me remind you all that I am against this idea."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mei-Lin felt, as always, extremely self-conscious about appearing in public, where large numbers of people could see her scarred face. Chen-Po's quiet acceptance and support had helped a great deal, but in the last few weeks, without him, she had begun to feel her old fragility again. It didn't help that the closer they got to the meeting place Agent Hobbes had arranged, the more crowded the streets became.

Suddenly Mei-Lin was brought up short by the sight of someone else's face. The young man had a rather average, somewhat stout body, but his face was marred by a series of ridges across his forehead and the bridge of his nose. Her eyes took in his oddly designed coveralls, with some sort of unfamiliar military insignia she was unable to identify before he'd passed them. A few moments later she saw a young woman with dark blotches all over the sides of her face and running down the back of her neck. She wore her hair pulled back and up, as if showing them off instead of trying to hide them, and Mei-Lin had to admit that their appearance was rather artistic, perhaps some sort of tattooed design.

Then she took in the plastic convention badge attached to the front of her form-fitting jumper. Now that she knew to look for them, she spotted several others in the crowd around them, including some on T-shirts featuring everything from dragons curled around dodecahedrons with numbers on each side, to creatures with even more bizarre faces than the one they had passed earlier.

A young couple dressed in ordinary jeans and T-shirts gave her a thumbs-up as she passed, the girl commenting, "Nice latex!" while openly looking at the scars on her face.

Mei-Lin caught Hobbes' amused look. "What is going on here, Mr. Hobbes?"

"It's a role-playing convention. Any decent-sized city will get at least a dozen every year. Bunch of geeks get together and pretend they're knights and vampires and Star Trek characters. And spies. And there's sections for historical simulations, war games, military strategy...."

"Why are we here?"

"Because if we talk in an ordinary restaurant, or a park, or whatever, then people are liable to overhear one of us say something that will catch their attention as out of the ordinary." He gestured, taking in the crowd, which was by now at least half convention-goers. "Around here, no matter what we say, or even do, people are gonna assume it's all part of a game. Hell, I could pull my gun on Chen-Po if I have to, and the most we'd get is a few disapproving looks and maybe a warning not to scare the mundanes, because they think our props are too realistic."

Taking a minute to digest all that, Mei-Lin noted several more exotic costumes. She decided her Quicksilver backpack would have fit right in. But there was probably a limit to the credulity of even this crowd; she doubted that actually Quicksilvering would pass without notice here, whereas the average citizen, catching a glimpse of her disappearing, would rationalize it away as a trick of the light or of their own mind.

They reached a park area near the beach. Seated at one of the picnic tables was Chen-Po, looking a little bewildered by a pair of women wearing chain mail bikinis and little else practicing some surprisingly sophisticated swordplay nearby. But once he spotted Mei-Lin, the rest of the park was forgotten. He rose, started to step forward but caught himself before his greeting became too familiar, and Mei-Lin felt and fought down a similar impulse to greet her fiancé with a long, close hug. They nodded a bit warily instead.

"Mei-Lin! You are alright? And the baby?" He searched her face, for signs of any problems as well as for her reaction to him.

"We're both fine. The tests have gone well. I'm just a bit tired." She sank onto the bench on the opposite side of the picnic table. Chen-Po seated himself as he had been.

They both looked up at Hobbes, awkwardly. The agent seemed to fight an inner battle, then finally turned and walked several yards away and leaned against a tree, ostensibly watching the swordfighters, who had now been joined by a Jedi with a quarterstaff subbing for a lightsaber. They both knew his attention was really on them, but he would not be able to hear what they said unless voices were raised.

"I wish I could have been there for you, Mei-Lin. For the tests."

They sat awkwardly for a long minute. Finally, Chen-Po reached out and took her hand in his.

"There is so much I wish to say. I did not mean for you to think I had left you, Mei-Lin. What you told me... took me by surprise. I needed some time to think, but I did come back the next night. When I saw you were gone, I realized my mistake, but by then it was too late and I couldn't find you."

"And you thought I had gone to Darien?" She realized Chen-Po would note the change in how she referred to Fawkes, but how she thought of him had changed. To try to correct herself would be even more awkward.

"After the fire, while you were in the hospital and I watched the doctors work on you, I never knew, day by day, what you would look like. After each skin graft, their predictions became less and less hopeful for any kind of normal appearance. But I knew it was still you inside, that you were still the woman I loved, the woman who loved me. You might be going through a lot emotionally, but I knew that if I supported you long enough, you would eventually realize that." He looked down, smiling at his own naiveté. "I just didn't realize how long and how much that would take. But I did it, gladly.

"But this... The fact that you could love another man, I was not prepared for. It made me think perhaps you were not the person I thought you were. And I tried to find you, but my contacts from the MSS were unavailable, and there was so little I could do without them."

His thumb traced across the back of her right hand, where the scar tissue was barely noticeable compared to her upper arm and face.

"I love you, Mei-Lin. I want to be with you, and your baby. No matter whose it is, it's a part of you, how could I not love it? And I know I'm supposed to say that if you love Fawkes, I'll bow out gracefully, but I can't promise that. I can only promise that I will fight to win you back, whatever it takes."

Mei-Lin wiped a tear from her cheek with her free hand. She could see the unshed tears in Chen-Po's eyes, hear them thickening his voice at the end. It was her turn to explain. She only hoped he could understand.

"All that time in the hospital, I couldn't see my own face very often, but I could see the pity in everyone's eyes. I got so sick of seeing it. That's why I wanted to become invisible. Even in your eyes, I could see pity. I just wish I had been able, then, to see what else was there.

"So I finished perfecting the backpack, stole it, and came here, hoping to be able to complete the recycler as well. And everywhere I went, there was that same pity. People didn't see me any more. I was already invisible, except for my scars.

"And then I met Fawkes, and he looked at me with pity, but there was something more, beyond that. He saw me, even when I really was invisible. As I spent time with him, I found that he was an honest man. It sounds strange to say it about a thief, but his reactions were more honest than most people in more honorable professions.

"His Quicksilver gland is triggered by adrenaline. Excitation. I needed help with the backpack, and he was a perfect gentleman, but his gland betrayed the reactions he was too respectful to show himself. I never thought a man would react that way to me again."

Chen-Po stiffened, started to withdraw his hand, but she held tighter, her eyes pleading for him to hear her out even as a flush crept up her face.

"I had convinced myself that anything of the sort was merely acting, that no one could honestly find me attractive any longer. But this wasn't anything he could fake. And he was so open about what was happening to him, so embarrassed at his own lack of control. It was something I couldn't deny, I couldn't tell myself it was done out of pity.

"I needed that. I was too close to you, I couldn't trust myself, couldn't bring myself to believe what you said you felt. But this, finally, was something that convinced me, not in my head, but in my heart, that someone really could feel that way about me.

She tried to catch his eye, but he was staring down at the picnic table. She took comfort in the fact that he still held her hand, not pulling away any longer.

"It wasn't love, Chen-Po. If anything, it felt more like... like friendship. Like we were comforting each other. It was incredibly important to me, and I wouldn't take it back, because of what it did for my heart, for my spirit. Because if it hadn't happened, I don't think I could have believed you still loved me. But on another level, it was... meaningless. A fling. I don't know if you'll ever truly understand, but I hope you will be able to forgive."

"I almost wish you had not told me," Chen-Po stated, so quietly Mei-Lin could barely hear.

"I know honor is more important to you that just honesty. You would stay with me because it was your child. I didn't want you to stay with me out of a sense of obligation, any more than I wanted you to stay out of pity before. I wanted to give you an honorable way out. But if you will have me, no matter whose baby it is, then I will gladly try to make a life with you."

Chen-Po looked up at last, and now the tears did flow, on both their cheeks. And despite Hobbes' assertions, a few heads were turning, seeing emotions that so clearly were not part of any role-playing game.

Chen-Po searched her face, his mind adjusting to the new information. "If what happened between you and Fawkes... was what allowed you to come back to me...then I will have to be glad for it as well. I will always be jealous, but I think I can understand enough to accept it."

They leaned across the picnic table, their lips meeting gently, tenderly. Mei-Lin caught a glimpse of Hobbes scowling at them, but she was too happy to care.

"So, what are we going to do now?"

Before they had the chance to discuss their future any further, Hobbes had come back over, standing close behind Mei-Lin's shoulder. "Right now, Mei-Lin is going back to the Agency. It's too open here, too exposed."

"Surely there is no danger...." Chen-Po trailed off. The way that Agent Hobbes' eyes flicked about the park, the way his hand kept straying near his gun, argued that he really did know of some danger to Mei-Lin and the baby. Perhaps there was some threat he was unaware of, cut off as he was from his contacts. His old instincts began kicking up, and he realized belatedly that Hobbes had maintained a position where he could keep an eye on the ongoing weapons demonstration and the picnic table at the same time, close enough to in between them to be able to intervene if the entertainment became a threat.

Mei-Lin was picking up on it too. "Let's go. We can talk more back at the Agency."

"Negative. You may be satisfied about Chen-Po, but he doesn't have clearance, and here's no interagency cooperation involved this time."

"I can protect her!"

"Like you protected her from getting snatched by the MSS?"

Chen-Po was growing angry, but he couldn't deny the truth of the agent's statements either.

"The Keeper still needs to keep an eye on that baby, and the test results aren't in yet. Mei-Lin comes with me. You want to help her, you keep yourself safe and out of sight."

Regretfully, they exchanged one more chaste kiss before Hobbes took Mei-Lin's arm and escorted her away, eyes constantly flickering from face to face. Chen-Po looked around the park, noting what sort of people were where, and moved towards some older gentlemen in military uniforms who had set up an amazing variety of model tanks, troops and airplanes on a long table with inlaid chess boards visible beneath their maps and grids. He thought he recognized the battle and wanted to see who would win this time around.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Act Four

Once inside the Harding building, Mei-Lin expected to return to the basement lab where Claire and her fetal monitor awaited. The afternoon had tired her more than she'd expected, and she was looking forward to lying down for a while. Instead, Hobbes continued to steer her by the arm, guiding her up to the second floor and into an office. The fat man behind the desk there was so similar to her former employers' head man that she knew this must be the Official Darien had referred to.

Hobbes helped her into a seat, one rather more comfortable than the others in the room, aside from the chair the fat man occupied; she supposed it had been brought in as a consideration for her condition. The agent took up a position behind her, near the door; it made her nervous having him so close yet out of her sight.

"Dr. Chong. I'm pleased to hear that the test results are so far quite encouraging. If there is anything you require to make you more comfortable, please let me know."

"Thank you, your Dr. Keeply had been taking good care of me." She glanced back at Hobbes, who still seemed as much on alert as he had in the park. She wondered what danger he was expecting in the heart of his home base. "I am looking forward to getting the results and hopefully getting on with my life."

"Yes, yes. I imagine you are. And on that note, I have a proposal for you. I'd like you to stay on, work with us on perfecting the backpack and recycler."

She'd been expecting something of the sort. Part of her was surprised it had taken him so long to make the offer.

"We feel that, as the only agency with any significant experience with Quicksilver, not to mention the only reliable supply of the real thing, it's a perfect match. Your talents were wasted with the MSS, having to spend so much time on unnecessarily duplicating work we have already completed and moved beyond.

"Additionally, we have at our disposal a physician who has extensive experience with the health effects of Quicksilver on a subject repeatedly exposed to it. She's already familiar with your history, and is probably the only doctor available anywhere with anything close to her knowledge and experience in this area. That could prove to be very important, should there prove to be any ill effects on you, or on your unborn baby."

"I appreciate the offer, but I'll need time to think about it. I'm not sure that government work would be the best choice for us."

"I understand. I just wanted to explain to you the benefits of joining us. The, ah, health plan would, of course, be included in the employment package."

Mei-Lin realized the implied threat there. If she did not accept employment from the Agency, then the 'health plan' would be made unavailable. He detailed all the reasons why she needed the Keeper, and then threatened to take her away if she didn't join. Resentment boiled, but she kept it in check. Much as it galled her, she was afraid to be without that safety net. She would have to stall at least until the test results came back, although she was certain the Official would be pressuring her to make a commitment before then.

"There may be another advantage. As I understand it, the parentage of your child is in question. The two, ah, candidates, are both intelligence agents; one is currently employed by this Agency, the other is, shall we say, between jobs. Now, if the paternity test shows that Agent Fawkes is the father, well, that sounds like a perfect match, both of you working for the same agency. And if Chen-Po Li is the lucky winner, well, I've been favorably impressed by the man's abilities. He's worked well with us before, helping Hobbes locate and retrieve you before the MSS could. I think we would be able to find a position for him here."

"Let me see if I've got this straight. If I accept employment with you, I will have a ready supply of Quicksilver to work with, access to medical care for myself and my baby from a physician familiar with the effects of Quicksilver, and employment for the father of my child, whoever he turns out to be."

"That seems a fair summary." The Official smiled in triumph.

"And if I refuse, then that medical care will be cut off, and no offer made to Chen-Po."

"That seems a bit unfair. But accurate," he added.

She knew she wasn't hiding her anger very well, but then, she suspected he was quite prepared for her reaction. His confidence hadn't faltered, which she resented even more.

"Well, you've given me something to think about. May I return to the lab and speak with Dr. Keeply, or am I required to give an answer before seeing my doctor?"

"No, no, by all means, go. We have a few days before I will have to start considering how to justify continuing these expenditures on a civilian."

"Thank you," she said, with bad grace. She rose to leave, wishing she didn't feel so awkward just getting out of a chair. She was so tired; she wondered how she would be able to manage in three more months, with this lethargy combined with even more changes to her weight and balance.

Agent Hobbes was still positioned by the door. "If you'll allow me to escort you back to the lab?" He opened the door to the office and waited for her to pass before closing it behind them.

"Is he always like that?" she asked, once they were a ways down the hallway and presumably out of earshot of the Official.

"Like what? Like the carrot-and-stick, with emphasis on the stick? Like manipulating anyone and everyone to get what he wants?" Hobbes shrugged. "Sure, aren't they all?"

"Ming certainly was, although it took me a while to figure that out."

"Ain't nobody looking out for anything but their own good. The sooner you figure that out, the happier you'll be in this business."

"And what about you, Agent Hobbes? Are you looking out for only your own good?"

"My good, and my partner's. And my partner cares about you, and he thinks that baby might be his, so for now, looking out for you and your baby is looking out for him. And if anything happens to change that, well, then that may change."

Mei-Lin smiled. "I think some of your partner's honesty has rubbed off on you."

"Nah, I'm just a good enough liar that you can't tell the difference."

She threw him a sharp look, but his face gave no clue whether he was joking or not.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mei-Lin was back in bed, the fetal monitor strapped to her belly, tracking her baby's heart rate and movements, as well as the gentle, regular contractions of a healthy uterus beginning to gear up for the job ahead. Darien popped his head through the entrance.

"Feel like some company?" He was already strolling in; she'd wanted company almost non-stop ever since the amniocentesis.

She avoided his eyes. "Actually, I think I'd like to be alone for a while."

"Uh oh." He reached up a hand to gently touch her upper arm. "Did things not go well with Chen-Po?"

"No, actually, things went very well. I just... have a lot to think about."

"Uh, okay, I guess...." Darien backed away, a puzzled, hurt look on his face. He was halfway out the door when the Keeper came in, almost bumping into him since her nose was buried in a printout.

"Darien! Good, you should hear this too."

Mei-Lin looked up as the Keeper entered, annoyed but a bit fearful as well. "Is there news?"

"The results of the genetic tests." Darien hovered awkwardly, not feeling comfortable taking Mei-Lin's hand but feeling like he should be present anyway.

"Is everything alright?"

"No evidence of Down's Syndrome, Tay-Sachs, or any other genetic disease we can test for. And...." she paused as if for an imaginary drum roll. "It's a boy!"

Mei-Lin smiled. Darien gave an awkward quick smile, still watching the Keeper anxiously. "And the, the test about who's the father?"

Claire nudged the rolling stool towards Darien with her foot. He took the hint and sat down.

"Did you and Chen-Po talk, Mei-Lin? And more important, is he here?"

"We talked, but Hobbes said he wasn't cleared to be here."

"Would you like to call him?"

Darien was bouncing, shifting around on the stool, rolling back and forth. Mei-Lin glanced over at him, and then told the Keeper, "No, I think I'd rather hear it first. I can call him when we're not keeping anyone else in suspense."

Claire carefully looked at Mei-Lin and not Darien as she delivered the news.

"The test results are conclusive. The father of your baby --"

Darien jumped up and tried to grab away the papers. Claire held them away from him. "C'mon, cut the build-up, okay? Just tell me. Us."

Claire rolled her eyes. "I'd have gotten there by now if --" Twin glares from Darien and Mei-Lin cut off her comment.

"All right! It's Chen-Po Li. Happy?"

She regretted blurting it out that way. Darien sank back onto his stool, his face a blank, the numb look he'd assumed after first finding out fatherhood was a possibility. It didn't help that Mei-Lin was looking extremely pleased. Claire reached out to touch his shoulder with one gentle hand, speaking quietly to him alone.

"Are you okay?" She crouched down to try to bring her face into his field of vision.

Darien's eyes came back into focus and met hers. "Yeah," he said, "I think I am." He glanced up at Mei-Lin, who was watching him with concern that did nothing to dim her happiness. "I'm glad, Mei-Lin. You and Chen-Po are so great together; it's a good thing that the baby is yours. His."

Claire wasn't sure if Mei-Lin was fooled... despite the circumstances, they hadn't known each other long, and Mei-Lin was so happy, she was bound to want to project that. But Claire could see the disappointment Darien wouldn't voice with Mei-Lin there.

Hobbes strolled into the lab. He took in the scene and sidled up to stand next to the Keeper. "Chen-Po?" he asked out of the side of his mouth. Claire nodded, looking worried. Hobbes gave her an exaggerated wink and nodded towards Darien.

"Hey, Fawkes!" he greeted loudly, cheerfully. "You ready for lunch?"

Darien barely reacted. "I'm not really hungry, Hobbes."

"Don't be silly, Fawkes, you're always hungry. Now, come on, you'll feel better with something under that skinny belt of yours." He put a hand on each arm and practically lifted Darien off his stool. Fawkes looked like he was going along with it simply because that was easier than resisting him, but he'd really prefer to stay put.

Hobbes kept ahold of Darien's arm, saying little but physically steering him out of the lab and all the way out of the building. Only when they were halfway down the block did he start talking.

"Don't let it get to you, Fawkes. That's probably just what they're after."

Darien roused enough to ask, "Who?"

Hobbes continued, ignoring the question, talking in a rapid-fire compulsive style that slowly sunk in through Darien's lethargy to set off little alarm bells.

"I wouldn't put too much stock in those genetic tests, Fawkes. Too easy to manipulate. Swap a sample here, change a control column there, you can make 'em read what you want and then tell people what it means."

"Chill out, Hobbes. Keeper ran that thing herself, remember. And you're the one who collected the sample from Chen-Po."

"Yeah, but I didn't stick around to watch her set it up. And even if you trust her, she hasn't been in her lab 24/7, someone could have messed with it. Wouldn't want their prize agent cutting back his hours to change diapers, that wouldn't do." He cocked his head, eyes looking up and to the right, and Darien recognized Hobbes' new remembering pose. "Okay, so it's not your kid. There could be all sorts of reasons to mess with your head. Plus if they know for sure the baby is theirs, those two are more likely to leave, and maybe they're trying to get at the backpack technology. Gotta make sure Mei-Lin sticks around where she's safe, keep them from getting hold of her, who knows where they'll stash them if they don't cooperate."

Darien's head was starting to whirl trying to keep track of who 'they' or 'them' referred to each time his partner said it.

"No more of this migrating to Claire's house every night, she should be in the Keep where we can keep an eye on her, even if it does mean they can keep an eye on her too. Those guys watching her place aren't worth crap, spent half their time listening to the game last night. Too many people who know where she is, for her to be left that vulnerable."

Now it was 'she' and 'her' his partner was abusing, and it took him a moment to untangle the sentence enough to understand what he was saying. "Wait, wait, you've been checking up on Claire's place?"

"Hell yeah, you think I'm gonna leave it up to those mooks? I just told you what a great job they're doing, at least you know how to spot a tail, unless it's me, those guys don't even notice outright surveillance."

"Hobbes, you're scaring your partner here. First you're following me home, now you're checking up on Claire and Mei-Lin. One minute you're accusing Claire of rigging tests, the next you're worried about whether she's safe. Have you been taking the pills like you're supposed to?"

"I am taking all the pills I'm supposed to, my friend. And the Keeper's right about the new ones and my memory. I am remembering stuff, Fawkes, stuff I'd figured out was going on and had forgotten. The world is not a nice place, and people are not nice people, and it's all right under your nose but you just don't see it. You don't see... You're too naive, but you've got me to look after you, point all this crap out to you, and maybe you can take care of yourself when you know there's danger but you just can't see everything that's happening around you." Hobbes' movements were as erratic as his speech, his eyes darting around the streets despite their being near-empty at this hour. He shifted his weight, changed position to put himself in between Darien and any passers-by. He was starting to attract attention from the few people nearby.

Darien stopped in front of his partner. "That's it, Hobbes, that's enough. I'm going back to the Keep, and I'm going to call your shrink, and find out what the hell she's doing to screw you up so bad, because Hobbes, you are losing it!"

Hobbes caught ahold of Darien's arm and swung him back around to walking towards the little fast food place. "You're not going anywhere alone, my friend, you're the primary target. I'm gonna keep you safe in spite of yourself. And for God's sake, don't talk about this to anyone there, they'll hear you! Why do you think I dragged you out to this crappy place? Now, what do you want to order?"

The flood of words came to such an abrupt halt that Darien took a moment to catch up. "Hobbes, order what you like. I'm not hungry." He'd surrendered, for now, but he still intended to get ahold of Bobby's shrink, or at least talk to the Keeper about it. Because he'd just begun to realize that, nutso as Bobby usually acted, he's never even seen the half of it, until now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The door to the Keep slid open and Claire could hear Bobby and Darien on the other side.

"....not gonna give me the slip, you know I can tail better than anyone!"

"That's right, Hobbesy, but right now I need to talk to the Keeper. And I want a little privacy."

"Not gonna happen...."

The door slid shut with Hobbes on the other side, cutting Hobbes off mid-sentence. Claire had been leaving the door open lately, but Darien had obviously triggered the mechanism to close and lock it.

Darien leaned heavily against the door and sighed in relief. Then he realized he could still hear his partner's voice, faintly, through the metal behind him, and he quickly shoved himself away and looked to the Keeper.

"Claire, you gotta do something. Hobbes is really losing it. I mean, the stuff he says he's remembering, and the spin he's putting on it...."

"I don't know if I'd dismiss what Bobby is remembering too quickly. Come and take a look at this." She led Darien over to her main computer, where diagrams of the Quicksilver hormones were now covered in labels and highlights. "Bobby highlighted several sections of the hormones. I don't even know if he realized he was doing it half the time, but every one of these segments has turned out to have some significance, most of them things I hadn't discovered yet."

"Okay, so he's some kind of chemistry whiz. Or he was, or however it works. But what he's saying now...."

"Darien, this is important. I think there may be a reason why Mei-Lin's baby isn't yours."

"Huh?" The apparent non sequitur derailed his train of thought, a visible double-take focusing his attention on the Keeper and her computers. "I thought it was, you know, random chance, or who swims faster, or maybe when she does her thing with the eggs."

"A fair layman's assessment of several things that are all normally factors, but since your encounter was considerably earlier than Chen-Po's, yet still within the window of viability, we would expect your odds to have been much higher than his. But I think that this," she pointed at the screen, "was an even bigger factor."

"Uh, Claire, I don't speak Mad Scientist, what makes you think I can read it, even the illustrated version?"

"Never mind about that. I'm not even a hundred percent certain about it yet. For that, I'm going to need more samples."

Darien sighed. "What is it, Keep? More needles? Or are you just gonna Q-tip my big mouth again?"

"Blood sample first, I think." With the ease of a long-practiced routine, she drew off a couple of vials of blood from his elbow. "Bloodwork, urinalysis, and....There's something else I'll need, too." At Darien's blank look, Claire blushed slightly. "We are talking about hormones here... and reproduction...." When Darien began to look away and stammer, she knew he'd caught on. "I can talk to Bobby while you're... occupied."

"Uh, Keep, there's a problem there, remember? I get to a point where I can, uh, provide a, uh, sample, there's this coating of Quicksilver in between, uh, it, and the container."

"Ah, but I have a very low-tech, very effective solution to that problem." She reached into a cabinet and pulled out a larger screw-top sample container, and the from behind them dug out a couple of small, square packets, with the impression of a ring shape inside. "Thin enough to fit in between you and the sheath of Quicksilver."

"You, uh, you keep these here?" Darien glanced significantly towards the padded exam chair he had been handcuffed to more than once. "Is there something going on here I should know about? Some reason you work late nights so much?"

"I obtained them with this purpose in mind, a brand free of spermicides. Although, between this pregnancy scare and the nanobugs, I'm beginning to think I should be handing them out to you every week...."

Darien snorted. "Every week. I wish!"

"Quit stalling," she said, pressing the packets and sample cup into Darien's hands and turning him around by the shoulders. She gave him a little push between the shoulder blades for good measure.

"Uh, right...." Darien reluctantly took them and headed for the door. When he opened it, Bobby was still waiting on the other side. He started to follow along, opened his mouth to continue his harangue, but then saw the sample cup in Darien's hand, and the other item he carried, and his mouth closed again and he stepped back almost involuntarily.

Thanking the powers that be for the odd mental blocks of his partner, Darien escaped to the restroom down the hall.

"Come on in, Bobby. I wanted to show you something."

Hobbes had already stalked into the Keep, prowling around the edges, picking things up and turning them over, looking up to the ceiling as if checking for cobwebs in the corners.

"I have had the Maid in here this past week." Claire said, trying to reassure him.

"The Maid works for them, she isn't gonna find their bugs."

"Well, neither are you, at least not this minute. Now come over here and look at this." She had called up a new group of molecules for him to examine. She had noticed that his blocked memories tended to resurface more readily when he was distracted, and she might as well make this conversation serve double-duty. She waited until he's started examining the diagrams, then gently asked, "Bobby, when's the last time you talked to your psychiatrist?"

"Last week, why?" Then the question sank in. "Oh, no, no, not you too. Fawkes is bad enough, I don't need you riding me about being paranoid. It ain't paranoia if it's true, and I figured out a lot of stuff while I was smart that I'm remembering now. I keep seeing things and thinking, 'There, that's familiar,' and sure enough it turns out exactly like I knew it would."

Hobbes had tapped the computer screen while he said this, and Claire made a note of where his finger landed. He might have been touching a spot at random, but the subconscious could do funny things.

He turned back to the computer for a minute, then swore and slammed his fist against the table beside the mouse. "Dammit, I know there's something going on here, there's a big picture I just can't get my brain around yet." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bottle of pills. He started to twist open the bottle, but Claire snatched it out of his hands to read the label. "Hey! Gimme those, I need those!" He tried to snatch them back, but Claire turned to put her shoulder between them, and Bobby still had some compunction against physically attacking Claire.

"Bobby, how long have you been taking these?" she asked, reading the label.

"Three weeks or so, the new shrink put me on them. That and the hypnosis is what she used to help me get at blocked memories. And I need them, if I'm gonna figure out what's wrong with the stuff you keep showing me."

"And you're still on your regular meds?"

"Yes, I told you, I told Fawkes, I'm taking my pills. I'm not nuts, Claire! Now will you give me my pills?"

She opened the bottle, checking the contents, then double-checked the date on the label and number of pills dispensed. "What happened to the rest of them?"

"Nothing." He snatched at the container again but she held it behind her out of his reach until he stopped.

"There are...four pills missing. This is a twice a day prescription, when did you take your last one?"

"I figured out three a day works better than two. The memories are almost where I can get at them now. C'mon, a lot of my meds have been stuff they have to adjust the dose based on effect."

"You know better than this, Bobby. Especially now. The toxic dose of lithium is very close to the effective dose, that's why you get blood levels checked regularly."

"I knew it was a risk, but this is too important. Fawkes' life is at stake here."

Claire froze. "What makes you say that?"

His pills denied him, Hobbes paced restlessly about the Keep again. "I don't know what it is exactly, that's why I need the pills, but I know he's in danger, bad danger. He's got dozens of people trying to kill him or catch him or harvest the gland, and the gland itself is just as bad, and there's nobody we can trust, not really."

"You can trust me, Bobby."

"Ha! Then why are you trying to stop me from saving him?" He sank back into his seat, elbows on his knees, chin in his hands, and looked up at her mournfully. "I need those pills, I've almost got it, I have to figure out what's wrong and save him and you're not letting me, you're in on it, you're all in on it! They're watching, and they're listening, and they're trying to stop me, and you're trying to stop me...."

Hobbes had risen from his seat by the computer and was stalking towards the Keeper, eyes on the pill bottle. She backed away until her hips hit a counter behind her. She didn't want to hurt Bobby, but wasn't sure what sort of condition he was in, whether he was still capable of listening to reason.

"I can't be one of them, Bobby, remember? I helped to cure Darien. I helped with a lot of other things against the Official's wishes."

"You gave him the wrong cure. You gave him Arnaud's cure. How could you trust Arnaud? There's got to be some catch, Arnaud wouldn't help cure the madness. He wouldn't. You didn't think it through, or you did and you didn't care. It's a dead end, I chased it down, it's a flawed cure and I know you're willing to kill him, you would have when he hit stage five, you're killing Fawkes, you've got to let me help him...."

Bobby leapt at her, and Claire got up a block to prevent his blow from landing but his weight pushed her to the side and his feet pulled hers out from under her. He tried to pin her down, to slam her hand against the floor until she had to let go, but she got her foot between them and pushed him away hard. He went, but her wrist went with him, yanking her arm hard in its socket. He twisted and her hand opened and the pills skittered across the floor, and then Darien was behind him, pinning his arms in a hold Bobby had taught him, pulling him back and off until they were both on the floor, Hobbes unable to scramble up because of how Darien held him.

"Hobbes, stop it! Stop it!" He shook Hobbes with each repetition, like a cat shaking a misbehaving kitten, until suddenly Hobbes stopped struggling. Darien waited until he was sure Bobby had come to his senses, for now at least, and Claire scrambled off the floor and retrieved the pill bottle, hiding it in the back of a drawer located behind Bobby where he couldn't see where she put it.

"Bobby, will you listen to me? Will you promise to listen to what I have to say? If you can convince me you're right, I'll help you to get at those memories, but you have to listen to me."

He finally relaxed, and Darien let go of his partner, who stood and shook himself off. He reached down and offered his partner a hand up

from the floor. Darien clasped hands, let the older agent hoist him to his feet, and then, before Hobbes could let go, pulled his other hand out of his jacket pocket and slipped a handcuff onto Bobby's wrist. It would never have worked if Hobbes were at his best, but he was so scattered mentally that he didn't notice and start fighting until the other end of the cuff was safely around a bar on the counteragent chair.

"You son of a bitch!" Hobbes yelled, trying to get his wrist free, but Darien had learned from the best.

"Hobbes, I'll let you go once you've let the Keeper have her say. Now calm down."

Hobbes took a deep breath, let it out, and visibly got ahold of himself. He climbed up onto the chair, a bit awkwardly with one hand cuffed, and tried to look like he was waiting patiently.

Claire moved directly in front of him. "Bobby, listen to me. I know you think you're okay, but you're not. You're not acting like ourself, or rather, you're acting like you when you're off your meds." He started to protest and she held up a hand. "Let me finish. I think that it's because of the change in your medication. You're still taking your other pills, but this new one is interfering with the way the others are supposed to work." She reached out and touched Bobby's shoulder. "You know I'm right, don't you?"

He looked into her eyes and after several long seconds, nodded. "I know I'm not quite right, but you're only part right, too."

"How so?" She wanted to make him feel like she was on his side, listening to what he had to say and really considering it.

"Maybe I'm getting paranoid again, but one thing isn't paranoia. I'm remembering things that I figured out while I was infected with that genius virus, right? I wasn't on the new meds back then. I dealt in truth, I remember saying that. Facts led to inferences, and it all led to certain conclusions. And those conclusions are not my imagination, they're not my paranoia because my pills aren't working as good as usual. They were already there, I'm just uncovering them. If anything's making me paranoid, it's what I'm remembering!"

Darien turned the handcuff key over and over in his hands, sitting just out of Bobby's reach. "Can I ask something?"

"What is it, Darien?"

He turned to his partner. "Hobbes, think back. Try to remember. When the genius virus was affecting you, you weren't acting like yourself. You wanted to be left alone, withdrew into your own little world. You were certain no one here liked you or respected you. You were ready to let the virus take you until I gave you a reason to do otherwise." He turned to Claire. "Do those sound like symptoms of clinical depression to you?"

"Yes, yes they do. Bobby, were you taking your pills while you were...in genius mode?"

Hobbes closed his eyes and they could see his body relaxing. Claire and Darien exchanged a hopeful look. He really was trying. After a moment, his eyes opened again.

"No. No, I wasn't taking my pills. But that explains how I was acting, it doesn't change what I figured out."

"But it does!" Claire's eyes lit up. "Memories aren't formed in a vacuum. And facts aren't interpreted in a vacuum either. If you were clinically depressed, then you would have interpreted them in a negative way. If

there were two possible conclusions, you would have gone with the less hopeful

one, the one with the worst outcome. You would tend to remember the bad ones more than the good ones. It would skew all your mental processes."

"I don't know...." Hobbes was still skeptical. "If my mental processes were so skewed, how'd I come up with such accurate info on those Quicksilver hormone things?"

"Well, the actual science is rather straightforward, once you come up with the idea of this variation. But your interpretation of its effect is still highly subjective. You could take a fragment that could cause a one-in-a-million side effect, and focus in on that tiny chance, and obsess about it until it seems like a greater danger than it is."

"But wouldn't he be smart enough to see around problems like that?" Darien wanted his partner back, but he also wanted to know whether Bobby really did have a way to get the gland out.

"Intelligence isn't a bar against mental illness, Darien. There are Mensa members in mental hospitals. There's a Nobel-winning mathematician who was schizophrenic. You can't think your way out of clinical depression. It's a physical illness, an imbalance of chemicals in the brain. In fact, if anything, geniuses are better at thinking up rationalizations to justify what they already believe is true.

"And now, you're in effect off your medications again, and you're re-interpreting the memories from a further skewed perspective. Memories aren't as solid and inflexible as people think. When you remember an event, you truly remember only a few key points, and reconstruct all the rest. The same it true with scientific facts, you tend to remember the conclusions but not every step of the way to get there. So if you made a few assumptions, you'll tend to forget that, to ignore the fact that it isn't as solid a conclusion as it looks. And if you're paranoid now, you'll do all this reconstructing from a paranoid perspective."

For a moment she thought she had him, that she'd convinced him. But she had forgotten her own argument. You can't think your way out of mental illness, you can't be convinced to stop being crazy. Hobbes turned his back on her to talk only to Darien.

"Fawkes, you're my partner. You know how good I am at what I do. Even when you think I'm acting nuts, I've got some reason behind it, something you didn't see or didn't know about. You said yourself I'm not nearly as nuts as I used to think.

"I knew how to get the gland out, Fawkes. I'm as sure of it as I am that you'd risk your life for me. And I know that it's got to come out, that something bad is gonna happen if you keep going the way you are. It's so clear, and you can't see. You're not gonna see. I can see for you, Fawkes.

"Give me back my pills. You saw where she put them. Let me go, help me find them."

Darien backed away a step, shaking his head. "So I lose the gland and you end up in a looney bin? I'm not going to sacrifice your sanity, Hobbes!"

"I don't want to stay like this forever! I just want to remember what I need to, in order to make you safe again, and then I can go back to the old medications, and get myself sane. I've been nuts, and I've come back, more than once. You can lock me up if you have to, you've got my permission. But please, let me help get that thing out of you first!"

Darien searched his partner's face. He meant it, he was certain about it. If Hobbes was right, here was a chance at freedom, true freedom, with no government agencies or terrorists trying to make him do their bidding. He looked up at Claire, and somehow she knew what his question was. She slowly shook her head.

"I can't do it, partner. I can't let you sacrifice yourself just for me to get free of this gland. You can't handle it, Hobbes, you can't be sure that you'll be able to get back to yourself if you go that far into it. And how long would it take, to figure it all out and then get back to normal? You hear about people who get cured of their craziness, it's never an overnight thing. It's years and years. I'm not gonna give you up for that long.

"Bobby, I still want to get this thing out of my head. But it's not that important any more. Without the madness, without the risk of hurting someone else, I can deal with it until the Keeper figures it out."

Hobbes was quiet. He looked from one face to the other, searching for something. Neither could tell what.

"Unlock me," he said softly.

Darien hesitated, then pulled out the keys and walked over. Hobbes waited calmly while Darien unlocked the cuff attached to the chair, and didn't protest when he locked that end around his own wrist instead of unlocking the other side and setting Hobbes free. He swung his legs around and hopped down from the chair, heading over to the computer, giving Darien plenty of signals where he was going so he could follow without pulling on the cuffs.

He sat in front of the computer and went through his calming routine. Darien and Claire exchanged worried looks while waiting to see what he'd do next.

He opened his eyes and flipped through a series of windows, scrolling and clicking. Only his hand moving the mouse and his eyes flickering from place to place on the screen. And finally, he stopped, and turned to Claire, circling an area with his finger on the screen.

"There. Start looking there, it'll lead you the right way."

He turned towards Darien then. "Guess that's all I have time for. You wanna take me to my shrink now?"

Darien got up and let the way out even as he asked, "Can you just walk in and be seen? Don't you need an appointment?"

"I'll call on my cell on the way in. I'll get them to find a way." He glanced at their wrists, then back over at the computer, his steps slowing slightly. "Better keep the cuffs on, though."

The door to the Keep slid shut, leaving Claire staring at the blank inside of it. She turned back to the computer screen, seeing again his finger moving, tracing the area of the formula there that she needed to examine.

Something had caught the edge of her attention as she looked from the door to the computer. Her eyes backtracked, and she spotted the samples she'd sent Darien for. He'd had them when he came back, and shoved them onto the counter near the door to free his hands to help her.

Deciding the computer could wait while the samples couldn't, not at room temperature, she got up, collected them, and got down to work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag

Claire, Darien and Bobby sat opposite the Official, Eberts in his customary place at his boss's shoulder. He looked at them, one by one, and then asked, through clenched teeth, "Where are they?"

"Where's who?" Bobby asked innocently. "Sorry, I've been out of the loop, you know."

"Mei-Lin Chong and Chen-Po Li have disappeared," Eberts explained. "There have been no reports of them in any plane, train, or bus stations. No cars were rented to anyone matching either description. We even checked the dealerships to make sure they didn't buy a car. And all of your vehicles are accounted for."

"To me, that says that they're still in town," The Official added. "I'm assigning you to find them. We still need that Quicksilver recycler."

"We have the formula," Claire pointed out, a little indignantly.

"A complex formula, written in Chinese. It will take time to translate, and even you will need some time to be able to work out the application. We'll save valuable time by convincing Dr. Chong to help us in creating the device itself."

"Uh, Chief?" Fawkes said, waving his hand in a half-hearted signal for permission to talk. "There's one way out of town you didn't mention."

"And what way is that, Fawkes?" he asked, annoyed at the delay.

"They could ask a friend to help them escape. Someone who could sympathize with the problem of government agencies that aren't real good at taking no for an answer."

"What have you done?" His voice was a cold, dangerous whisper.

"Helped out a friend."

"Hobbes! Find them."

"Sorry, sir, I don't think I can do that. They've obviously been aided in their escape by an expert at making people disappear."

The Official glared from one to the other. He was used to insubordination from Fawkes, but Hobbes had never shown such an inclination to join in. His new-found independence appeared to be going to his head.

"Doctor, I don't suppose you know anything?"

"I know that Mei-Lin asked for a copy of her medical records, and I arranged for acceptable versions, which did not reveal any classified information. But as for where those records were taken, I have no idea."

"Sir, you don't actually have the authority to detain them for anything, do you?" Hobbes asked, in an overly sweet innocent tone.

"You will learn to put a rein on your insubordination. All three of you." He let the threat hang, its effect diminished somewhat by the conviction among all its targets that there was no way he could carry through on it. "Get out of my sight."

Darien and Bobby rose and left as one. They waited until they were almost out of sight to exchange a low five. Claire lingered behind.

"Sir, while I was working on Mei-Lin's medical records, I made an interesting discovery."

"Oh, really? And what, pray tell, is that?"

"Some of the test results had already been altered. In fact, every one of the tests with abnormal results showed evidence of tampering."

The Official nodded. "Have you shared this information with anyone else?"

"Not so far. I suppose whether I do will depend in part on whether the subject ever comes up." The Official wasn't the only one who could leave a threat hanging. She turned and left out the same door her coworkers had gone through.

"Eberts! Find out what mistakes were made, and make sure we locate someone who will do a more undetectable job next time."

"Yes, sir."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Outside in the hall, Hobbes quirked an eyebrow at Darien. When that didn't work, he nudged him.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you want something?" Darien teased.

"Just wondered where the happy couple went to."

"Actually, I don't know. I just know how they got there."

"How? Canoe? Bicycle?"

"No, but those are both pretty good ideas. I'll have to keep that in mind."

Hobbes waited another thirty seconds, then thwapped Darien on the upper arm with the back of his hand. "So?"

He couldn't wait to explain any longer. "I talked to Brookes at the FBI. Got him to find a way to get Mei-Lin and Chen-Po into the federal Witness Relocation Program."

Bobby whistled low. "That's not cheap, especially a couple. How'd you get them to agree to it?"

"Promised him a favor some time in the future. It's a favor from me, not from the Agency, so the Fish has nothing to say about it, and they don't have to worry about the fat man trying to cheat them on it."

"You promised an unknown favor, they can call in any time?"

"Yeah, well, assuming I can work it around my schedule here. But I promised to take vacation time if I had to, they just can't call me off in the middle of a case."

Hobbes thought about it for a moment. "Sounds good to me."

"What, you're not worried he'll screw me over?"

"Nah, Brookes struck me as an okay guy. I'm kinda surprised he trusted you, after the way your last deal turned out, but I think he'll play fair with you."

Darien smiled. Hobbes trusting anyone was a very good sign. After getting Eberts to expedite Dr. Martin's clearance, Darien and Hobbes had gone ahead and gotten her up to speed on the genius virus without waiting for the paperwork to actually go through. Once she understood the sort of mental land mines she had to deal with, she'd spent several intensive sessions getting Hobbes back under control. She'd mentioned to Darien a few days ago, when he came to pick up his partner, that if they have waited any longer, he probably would have needed years of therapy to recover.

Claire caught up with them then, neither one having fully registered that she hadn't been with them all along. "Darien, could you swing by the Keep with me? I have some test results to go over with you."

"Test results? What -- oh, yeah, those tests." He flushed slightly. "Sure, no problem." He turned to his partner. "I'll catch up with you later."

Hobbes watched them walk away, a troubled look on his face. Somehow, he knew what she'd have found. It was a logical result of the situation so far. He could almost say what it would be, but couldn't quite reach it. The information was back on the tip of his tongue. This time, he promised himself, he would follow his partner's advice and let it stay there.

At least until his nagging fears turned into something more concrete. He still had half a bottle of the new pills, if it ever turned out they really did need to know how to get the gland out in a hurry....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Claire pulled out one of the ubiquitous manila folders medical charts and files were kept in, glancing over the reports inside to refresh her memory. It was rather a delicate matter, and she wanted to deliver the information as smoothly and completely as possible.

"So, Keep, what's up? Everything working okay?" Claire gestured him towards a chair, and Darien had a bad feeling when she didn't begin to answer until he was safely seated. He slid down until he was practically lying in the desk chair, his feet on the counter, defiantly casual. Claire gave him a trademark serious look, then sighed and answered his last question.

"I'm afraid not, although the abnormalities are a very odd assortment."

"Ab...abnormalities?" Darien gave up on the casual attitude instantly, swinging his feet down and leaning forward. His feet planted, he swung nervously side-to-side a few inches each direction.

"First off, your sperm count is low, your motility even lower."

"Motility?"

"How well they swim."

"Ah."

"Your hormones are off-balance as well, again only in a few odd places. It appears that one of the hormones secreted by the Quicksilver gland is suppressing your own natural hormone production, in some very selective ways."

"Suppressing my...my hormones? Like, what, like testosterone?"

"As I said, in some ways, yes, in other ways not. There appears to be a strong effect on the testes themselves, on certain areas of the brain, and on the releasing hormones that trigger testosterone production. But there's no detectable effect on the peripheral tissues; in fact, in many of them this hormone serves the same purpose as your own testosterone would." She arched an eyebrow at him. "So no feminization, no high-pitched voice or development of the mammary tissue."

"No? Well, that's a relief." His sarcasm lacked enthusiasm. "But what do you mean, a direct effect on... you know."

Unable to hide behind medical jargon, Claire searched for the right words. "Well, as I said, it seems to be impairing sperm production. And then there's, well, your, uh, low sex drive."

"My what?" Darien felt the subject spinning out of his control. He bounced up out of the chair and began pacing the room.

"I really should have suspected something sooner," Claire continued, trying to turn to keep facing him. "You didn't need an extra shot of counteragent nearly as often as I had originally budgeted for."

"An extra shot of counteragent? When did you.... aw, crap." He stopped and looked at the Keeper in disbelief. "You had a budget for how often you expected me to...to...."

"Considering the time and money involved, I certainly had to budget any and all expenditures of Quicksilver. I may not have been able to recover very many of Kevin's notes on your training, but it was quite clear which direction the, ah, stimulation...of the gland...took when you started becoming habituated to the spiders."

"Damn." He thought fleetingly that if Kevin weren't dead, he'd be ready to kill him right now. "Mira Sorvino...."

Claire flushed and stammered a bit herself. "As a physician, I knew to expect that a, uh, healthy young male would have certain, ah, unplanned uses of Quicksilver, even if we did prevent you from breeching security with, um, a partner." That was as delicate a way to phrase it as she could think of just now.

"And you kept track of....if I was behind your expectations, you could have let me know, y'know, so I could catch up." Darien's voice lacked conviction. He wondered whether the effect was showing up here, since even now he was aware of a certain lack of enthusiasm on the subject.

"Don't worry, I put the unspent money to good use, on things like anti-peptide solutions and mRNA injections."

"Ha, ha. One more reason for me to be grateful that you finally cured the madness. Freedom to enjoy the magazine of my choice without having to come up with an excuse which, apparently, you wouldn't have bought anyway."

She shook her head, avoiding a smirk only by the slightest twist of the lip. "'Fraid not."

His face clouded. "Somehow this makes it more real. That I'm not the father. I couldn't have been."

"Not without some serious medical intervention." Claire's tone implied that even then, the outcome would be doubtful.

He ran a hand through his hair and across the back of his neck. "Damn." He strode a few paces and then stopped abruptly. "This is just so typical of my life," he yelled, slamming his hand against the lab bench. Claire winced, glad he'd at least spared her computer keyboard this time. "The minute I decide I really do want to have kids, have a real family of my own....the minute I realize I'm ready for it....you tell me I can't?!?"

The anger was directed at the world, not at Claire, but she still took a step back. Without the madness, she so rarely saw Darien looking dangerously angry, but every now and then she caught a glimpse of the ex-convict that was still a part of her friend's personality.

It burned off on its own, and he leaned back against the counter, scrubbing his face with his hands. "I'm sorry, Claire, it's not your fault. It's not anyone's fault, except maybe Kevin's, or Arnaud's, and they're not here to yell at, are they?"

For a moment, the smart-mouthed slacker was completely gone, a very serious, adult patient in his place. "Is it something you're gonna be able to fix?" There was a naked longing ache in his eyes.

"I won't know that until I --"

"-- run some more tests," Darien finished for her, the serious face buried again but the humor only half-hearted. "Right, I got it."

"Can we start tonight? I've got a couple hours free."

"Actually, I'm gonna have to take a rain check. Hobbes and I had plans. I can be here bright and early tomorrow, though."

Claire frowned. "I notice you don't say bright and early tomorrow morning...."

"Early morning isn't bright. You gotta wait till noon for that, ten at the earliest."

"Remind me to check whether the Quicksilver effects your circadian rhythms while I'm at it."

"Yup. Tomorrow." Darien left the Keep with a jolly wave, but once he'd gotten on the elevator, his face fell. He got out on the floor his office was on, and from there called Hobbes to beg off for the night. Then he went home. He needed to think.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Claire rounded the corner and discovered the door to lab four was standing open. Cautiously, she crouched low and peered around the doorframe to see who might be inside.

Alex Monroe stood in the middle of the now-empty room, her back to the door. She seemed oblivious when Claire straightened and took a few steps inside.

"Alex?"

"Sorry, Claire," Alex replied, her voice under such tight control it lacked even a whisper of emotion. "I'll be out of your way in a minute."

"It's okay, you know. You're allowed to mourn."

"Mourn?" A touch of puzzlement crept into her voice, just enough to identify the word as a question.

"You've given away James' baby things. It's admitting to yourself that the past two years are lost to you. You can never reclaim that part of his life, can never get back the baby they stole. Even if you do get James back...when you get him back...he'll be a different child."

"It's not that....not just that...." She trailed off, not moving a muscle, her back still turned to Claire and the rest of the world.

Claire waited quietly, and after several long minutes, Alex spoke again, her voice shaky.

"I imagine him sometimes, what he must be like now. Is he talking, or walking? Has he learned to say Mama? And I picture it, in my mind. I picture him taking those first wobbly steps towards me, hear him calling me Mama. Sometimes I even have little conversations." She imitated the classic Mother's Voice, higher pitched and wildly varied in tone. "Can you show Mama the ball? Where's the ball? That's right! Do you want the ball?"

Claire smiled, almost laughed, at the sound of cool, calm Monroe using baby talk. It reminded her of nothing so much as of herself, talking to her little Pavlov. But when Alex spoke again, her voice was back to its former desolation.

"Lately....lately I've been picturing myself asking him...would he like a baby brother, or a baby sister."

Claire wished she could see Alex's face. She didn't dare ruin the moment by forcing any further intimacy, by coming closer or even offering words of comfort. Not yet.

"I guess it's that motherhood amnesia they talk about, huh? I mean, after everything I went through for James, to even think about trying again...."

"I can only imagine what it was like to wake up and find him gone."

Alex shook her head. That somehow wasn't what she meant.

"Do you feel like it would be giving up on James? That you'd be trying to replace him?"

"Oh, no, I could never do that. Give up on him or replace him. Plenty of people have a second child, it's not a betrayal of the first one."

Another long silence. Claire began wondering if she'd broken Alex's talkative mood for good. Which would be a pity, since she knew her friend needed this release, had kept things locked up for far too long. She started to move forward, to offer a touch or a shoulder to cry on, but at her first footfall Alex stiffened, as if braced for a blow, or perhaps as if preparing to flee for her life. Forcing herself to keep still and just be there for her, she waited until Alex relaxed enough to speak again.

"I'd been trying for four years before I wound up that fertility clinic, the one that was really a front for Chrysalis. At first I just thought it would happen, you know? People spend so much time trying to avoid getting pregnant and failing, how hard could it be? But it didn't happen, and it didn't happen. I saw a doctor, then another. There were tests. There were charts. Injections, creams, pills. And hormones brought everything from mood swings to nausea. And then finally, it happened...and then it unhappened. I went through the whole thing again, and was pregnant for about a month, and then I wasn't any more."

"Oh, Alex...." Claire squeezed as much sympathy as humanly possible into those two syllables.

"Finally, I got pregnant again, and I did everything right, and it went from a little black dot on the ultrasound, to a moving blob, until I could see arms and legs, and fingers and toes....And at sixteen weeks, my water broke, and I delivered a little girl."

Claire knew that sixteen weeks was well below the threshold of viability. There would have been no way to save so tiny a baby.

"She was so tiny, so perfect." Alex's voice broke, and she swallowed several times before continuing. "They laid her on my stomach, and she was small enough she could have fit in my hand. She took about a dozen breaths. And then she stopped, and they took her away again."

She hugged herself, shivering a little, but still made no move to turn around, to look anywhere but into herself, at her own pain.

"A few months later, a friend told me about this new fertility clinic, about all the successes they'd had with cases like mine, and I almost didn't even go. I couldn't face that kind of hope and loss again. But in the end, the hope was stronger, and I went.....and James' pregnancy was about as normal as they get. And I thought, this was it, I'd finally done it, I could finally relax and know my baby was safely in the world, and then they took him from me."

Claire felt a tear trickle down her cheek. She let it go.

"For a while now, I've actually been considering it. I don't think I even realized at first. It was just a sort of a wistful longing. Mei-Lin, her baby, her fears for the baby's health, about possibly having to bring it up on her own...all that brought my feelings out where I can't hide from them.

"What Chrysalis gave me, what they did to make it happen...I've searched the clinics we've been able to identify as theirs. There's nothing left but the usual crap. Whatever their secrets, they took them with them."

She was so tense she practically vibrated. She gave one long, deep sigh, the air catching in her throat, and seemed to collapse inward a little. But she was more relaxed now, as if she'd breathed out the tension, whatever it was that pinned her in place.

"I can't do it, Claire. I can't go through all that again. It would tear me apart if I lost another child, if I let myself hope again and saw that hope die. Tear me into a million little pieces I could never, ever put back together again."

Alex turned around, then, and Claire could see that her face was dry. There were no tears. But her eyes were haunted.

"Don't wait too long, Claire. If you're planning on having children yourself, don't put it off until it's too late." Her voice caught, then, for the first and last time. "And too late may be a lot sooner than you think."

Alex pushed past her, every fiber stiff as she retreated to the elevator and, presumably, the sanctuary of her private office. Claire wondered whether her friend would allow herself to cry there; somehow she doubted it.

It took a little longer for Monroe's words to sink in. When they did, she was the one left standing alone in the room, contemplating children that might never be. Alex's -- her son she still searched for, her premature daughter who never had a chance to live, a baby brother or sister she couldn't bear to dream of. Darien's -- how hard he must have searched his soul, trying to decide how he felt about being a father, finally embracing it only to have it suddenly snatched away, not only for this child but for any others he might have someday chosen to have. Her own, perhaps?

Too late may be sooner than you think. Had Darien ever thought it might be too late? She tried to imagine it, learning that there was something dead inside you, something that was supposed to create life but couldn't. How would she feel, if she learned that she no longer had that chance?

Suddenly she was glad that Darien had decided to postpone the testing until tomorrow, that Alex had retreated to her office, that Bobby's mental health was in someone else's hands for now. She wanted to be alone with her own thoughts tonight. Home, in her own personal space, with Pavlov curled up beside her.

Claire left the lab, locking the door behind her, and went to the Keep to collect her jacket. The gland and all its problems could wait until tomorrow.

End