I'd still like to express my gratitude to the Divine Ms. M and Puff who beta'd this anyway.

There is no hidden message or agenda to this story. I just needed a 'box' to put a lot of negative emotions in. These guys just happened to be the lucky recipients of them.

Broken

"Dammit all to hell!" he screamed at the two men standing in front of his desk. "I thought you were my top agents! This was a simple tail. A first year recruit could've handled it. You knew what was at stake! How could you lose him?"

~~~

Arden Eckler stretched his arms above his head to ease the cramp in his neck and shoulders, rolling his neck to loosen and pop the vertebrae along his spine. It had been a very long, uneventful day. He looked forward to five o'clock and going home.

He glanced up at the clock and saw that he had just five more minutes. Sighing his relief, Arden started clearing off his desk.

Suddenly, line one on the black, multi-line phone next to his elbow began to ring.

No, he groaned silently, and looked around for a reprieve from his shift replacement, Shirley Lincoln.

But, as usual, Ms. Lincoln would be late.

The phone rang again. Its piercing shrill shattering the silence of the near empty office. For several frantic moments, Arden considered not answering it. He could pretend he'd never heard it to begin with, going into the bathroom and hiding until Shirley finally arrived.

It rang again. This time its piercing cry sounded like a plea, and Arden felt a wave of shame.

Pulling out one of the standardized information forms from his 'in' basket, he took a pencil from the holder. Reaching across the desk, he snatched the receiver from the cradle and pressed the flashing button for line two.

"Crisis Lifeline," he said into the mouthpiece. "Can I help you."

His question met glaring silence.

"Crisis Lifeline," he said again. "Is anybody there?"

"No," came the soft voice on the other end. "There's nobody here."

Arden groaned inwardly. Not now. He didn't need this now. "Can I help you?"

A soft, hopeless voice said, "I don't think so."

Easily slipping into 'work' mode, Arden's voice changed from annoyed to businesslike. "You had to think so, you called."

"I called because your number is on this laminated sheet next to the phone. Maybe I misdialled. I might have wanted pizza delivery. That's on here too, pizza delivery. . ."

Arden noted the voice sounded slightly slurred, not quite drunk, but something else. "Is that what you wanted, pizza?"

There was another long pause as Arden listened to the slow, uneven breathing of the person on the other end of the line.

"No," the caller said at last. "I want to talk to somebody."

"Well, I'm somebody. Can you talk to me?"

Still another pause. "This isn't the way I wanted it. You. . .you're a stranger."

Arden settled himself more comfortably in his seat. "What do you want then?"

After another long pause and several deep breaths, the voice said, "I want it like it was."

"How was it?"

Arden waited again.

"Hello?"

"Yes."

This line of questions was taking him no where. Switching tactics, the counselor said, "My name is Arden. Will you tell me your name?

There was a hitch in the caller's breathing. "My. . .name? Why do you need my name?"

"So I'll have something to call you?" He waited, then repeated. "My name's Arden. Will you tell me your name?"

"What good will knowing my name do?" the voice said dismally.

"Well. It'd make us not strangers."

"How?"

Yes, Eckler, how? "Okay. It's a start then. Getting to know each other so we won't be strangers. Everybody's got to start somewhere, don't they?"

The silence stretched so long this time the only way Arden knew they were still connected was the soft breathing he heard in the background. "Pitiful."

Not sure he understood what he'd heard, Arden had to ask, "What?"

"Just call me pitiful."

"Why?"

"Because I am."

"Why do you think you're pitiful?"

"Oh, shit! I still have the car keys."

Confused by the sudden change of subject, Arden repeated, "Keys?"

"Did I bring the Jag here? I don't remember driving. Shit! Damn! Hell! What if. . .when they find me, what if somebody takes them? Takes the car? I didn't think about that. It's brand new. I really had to beg for this one. He was gonna get me a tank. I mean, nice lines and everything, but I'm a Jagbaby. Always will be." There was another pause. "I should've walked here. Or taken the bike. Paddy'd be mad enough about the bike, but the car. . .he's gonna have a cow."

"Daddy?" Arden asked, confused.

"Stupid. I'm always doing stupid stuff like that. I don't see why Paddy puts up with me."

"Are you saying 'Paddy' or 'Daddy'?" He enunciated each title carefully for clarification.

Another long pause while Arden wrote 'teenager?' next to the word 'age' on the form.

"How old are you?"

"CD," the caller responded dully.

The pencil paused over the form, Arden's thought processes skidding to a halt. "What?"

"People call me CD."

"Cee Dee?" Arden repeated slowly for clarification.

"Yes."

Arden quickly wrote it on the form next to name, but put a question mark behind it. "CD. That's a nickname? Or your initials? Can you tell me what it stands for?" He waited again. "CD? Are you still there?"

"China Doll. It stands for China Doll."

"Okay." Arden scribbled 'Oriental' next to the word 'race'. "CD. Tell me how old you are," he requested again.

The phone remained silent.

"I'm just trying to get a mental picture of you. You have a nice voice. I just want to picture what else goes with it."

"I'm 30."

Arden crossed off the word teenager. "You don't sound 30."

"I don't look 30 either." The caller sighed. "Maybe that's the problem. If I didn't look so young, I would act more mature. I don't have an excuse."

"Listen. Maturity doesn't have anything to do with looks or age for that matter."

"Is that what they teach you?"

"Teach me?"

"In counseling school? You did go to school to learn this stuff, didn't you?"

"No. I mean, yes, I've gone to school. Still am, in fact. That's just something life has taught me."

"How old are you?"

Arden chuckled. "Thirty-six."

CD laughed. "That's a little old to be still going to school, isn't it?"

"I suppose it is."

The caller gasped. "I'm sorry. I forget my manners. That was rude."

"No harm done, CD. You're right. I got a later start at a new career."

"What did you use to do?"

"I was a police officer. When I left the force, it was either teach or counsel."

"Jim's a. . ." the voice halted abruptly.

"CD?"

There was another long, long pause.

"So you learned how to talk to people there? Disturbed people."

For a moment, a concerned look crossed Arden's face. "Are you disturbed, CD?"

Just then, the outer door opened and Shirley breezed in. "Sorry I'm late, Arden. Traffic was--"

"Shhh!"

"Who's that? I heard another voice."

"Nobody. I don't know what you heard, but there's nobody else here but me. My replacement is late. She's always late."

Soft laugh. "So am I. It drives Paddy crazy. He's always telling me. . ." The voice trailed off.

"What's he always telling you, CD?"

After a long pause,

"CD? Are you still there?"

And another long pause.

"CD? You never answered my question. Are you disturbed?"

"Not for long."

"What are you disturbed about? Is it about this Paddy?"

CD went on as if he hadn't heard the question. "I found myself the perfect cure. The nurse was tired. She'd pulled a double shift, I heard her talking to the other nurse. They thought I was asleep. Funny how careless people can be when they're tired." He paused. "I didn't know I had so many. I just grabbed a bunch and shoved them into my pocket. I didn't think I was going to be able to swallow them all. But I did. And I got them to stay down," he said with pride.

Arden wrote 'attempted suicide' and 'overdose' next to 'cause' on the form, then under 'comments' wrote 'patient' and 'local hospital' and another question mark. He waved it until he got Shirley's attention.

"It was the hardest thing I've done in a long time. I kept imagining Paddy's frown." Pause. "You know, he can melt glass with that frown? Well, not really, but, maybe. . ."

"Who is Paddy, CD?" Arden asked as his office partner came over and took the form from his hand.

Scanning the information written there, she hurried over to the phone on her desk, picked up the receiver, pressed a button and began to dial.

Meanwhile, CD broke the silence. "My husband," he told the counselor.

And waited for a response.

"Are you shocked?"

"No. Well, yes, a little," Arden confessed reluctantly.

"Most people are," CD replied sadly.

"Is that why you're disturbed?"

"Because of me and Paddy? No. Never. I've loved Paddy. . ." He laughed. "Forever, it seems."

"When did you two decide to--" Arden faltered over the word.

"Marry? Commit? Two Christmases ago. I've loved him forever, but I didn't really catch him until two years ago. He made me wait for him."

"Why?"

"To prove to him, to myself, that I was capable of love. Of commitment. Not just lust."

Now it was Arden's turn to pause. "Have you taken something, CD? Some kind of pills?"

He heard jingling again.

"Shit. The keys!"

Arden started to scream, 'Forget the damn keys!' when an idea struck him. "If you're really that worried, CD, I could have them picked up for you. Just tell me where you are."

There was a long pause, then, "I know what you're trying to do. Good night, Arden."

'SHIT!' "No!"

"What?"

"We're talking."

The caller sounded surprised. "We were?"

"Yes," Arden said carefully.

In the background, Shirley talked to the telephone company trying to get them to trace CD's call.

"Getting to know each other. Remember?" Eckler finished.

And another pause while Arden listened to Shirley being switched to the telephone company supervisor.

"Before, you said you needed to talk to somebody. Well, now I need to talk to somebody, too."

And still another pause.

"Why don't you talk to somebody there?"

"I told you, there's nobody else here," Arden quickly lied. "Look, CD, this is a strictly volunteer operation. I'm not earning a dime here."

"Then, why do it? 'Cuz you're such a good guy?" CD said with a slight sneer.

"I'd like to think so, but, truthfully, I'm compiling material to write my thesis."

"You don't do this to help people?"

"Yes! Yes, I do."

"But. . ."

"But, I'm also trying to earn my degree. And, as you pointed out, I'm doing it kinda late. This job earns me three credit hours and an easy 'A'. I'm not ready to turn something like that down."

Off to his right, Shirley held the phone close to her mouth. Cupping her hand around the mouthpiece, she whispered frantically, "This is the Crisis Lifeline. I need an emergency trace on line 555-3137, immediately. We have a suicide attempt. Overdose. No, we don't know what kinds of pills. He's been on the line for about twenty minutes now. Yes. Please hurry."

"Arden?"

Caught half-listening to Shirley, the man jumped at the sound of his name. "I'm still here, CD."

"I'm scared," said a small voice. "I don't know how to live without him."

"Tell me where you are, then. I'll send someone to get you. We'll work this out, CD."

After a long pause, CD said, "Why do you sound scared?"

Arden had to laugh. "Because I am?"

The caller laughed too. "What've you got to be scared about?"

"Truthfully? I don't know what to say to you, CD."

"Don't they cover this in class?"

"This isn't class. This is real. I'm afraid that I'll say the wrong thing. I'm afraid that you'll hang up. I'm afraid that we'll run out of time. They've run through this scenario a dozen times in class, in theory, but this is real. I don't want to fail, CD. Your life is on the line."

Arden waited, and waited, and waited. In the movies this was the part where the caller broke down and told him where he was DAMMIT!

"CD!"

Then, another, longer pause.

"Please--" Arden whispered desperately.

Then, he heard a quiet: "I'm here."

"CD, please. Tell me where you are."

######

Justin stood in front of the full length mirror in his suite of rooms and carefully assessed his image. Determined to secure the Councilor's Chief Aide's undivided attention, he'd carefully chosen this outfit as something guaranteed to capture his lover's notice. Snatching his leather jacket from the chair, he slid into it as he plucked his keys from the dish on his nightstand and left the room.

~~~

"I know, sir," Lindell said as he stood fidgeting in front of a very annoyed Patrick Choate. "But they said they can't get it done any faster."

"I don't need excuses from you, Walters! I need you to get the job done. I can't be in two places at the same time."

"I know, sir, but--"

"But nothing." The Chief Aide stopped as he saw a flash of black from the corner of his eye. "Give me a minute, Lindell," he said as he shoved the papers he held into the surprised assistant's hands and strode purposefully from the room.

Justin had just reached for the knob of the front door when he heard, "Freeze," spoken in a soft, deadly voice from behind him.

"Just where the hell do you think you're going, little boy?"

Justin didn't turn around. "Out."

"Not dressed like that, you're not."

Now, young Evers turned around -- slowly.

Affording the Chief Aide a full vision of his young lover.

Shirtless under the black leather biker jacket, Justin had left his smooth chest unadorned. He wore a plain leather collar around his neck. From the D-ring in its center hung the silver, stylized letter, 'J'.

Letting his eyes travel downward, Choate drew a sharp breath as he saw how the soft, faded fabric of the jeans his young lover had poured himself into hugged his every 'attribute'. The hem of the tight denim pantlegs were tucked into the tops of a pair of studded biker boots, the ankle chain linked to a pair of spurs.

The black Mavado Paddy had given him for his birthday graced Justin's left wrist. On his right, he wore a black studded leather wrist band.

A green-gemmed circlet glistened in his ear, half-hidden by the heavy fall of glistening black hair.

"But, you're busy," Justin said with a pout.

"Touch that door and I guarantee you won't be able to sit for the rest of this millennia."

Both hands unceremoniously dropped to his sides. "But, I'm bored, Paddy."

"Little boy--" the Chief Aide growled, his hands on his hips, a scowl on his face.

"And you've been busy for the last couple of days. I don't even know if you come to bed anymore."

Choate groaned out his frustration, but, truthfully, his brat was right. He had neglected him for the past several days. "Justin Christopher--"

"You know I wasn't going anywhere!" he whined in his defense. "I just wanted to get your attention. You weren't supposed to get mad." The young man in question slid forward until he stood just a breath away. Looking up with large, green eyes, Choate could not mistake the message there. "Just an hour, Paddy. Please? An hour where you're all mine," he whispered. "I miss you."

Choate sighed dramatically. "Little boy. . ." But as he looked down into those eyes, he knew an hour wouldn't be enough.

"We don't have to. . .you know. Just hold me."

"What I should do is spend the next hour spanking your butt," the Chief Aide snarled as he reached out and snagged his brat by the shoulders.

That definitely hadn't been in Justin's plan. "Paddy!" he whimpered even as he leaned forward so Choate could lift him and toss him across his shoulder.

"Lindell!" Choate bellowed.

The assistant immediately appeared in the doorway, blinking owlishly at the sight that met him.

"Go get yourself lunch. Take your cell phone. I'll call you when I'm done," he said as he started up the stairs.

A fretful Justin hung on for dear life, praying getting 'done' would be a good thing.

~~~

Two hours later, Choate gathered the decidedly 'liquid' form of his sated young lover into his arms. "Better now?"

Justin thrummed softly as he settled onto the hard muscles of the warm chest.

Choate smiled. A nonverbal brat was an 'out for the duration' brat. Maybe he could get his work done before Justin woke from his climax induced stupor.

He had just started caressing the smooth back, soothing young Evers deeper into sleep, when his cell phone sounded.

Frowning as Justin stirred, the angry Chief Aide half-turned to snatch it up before it undid all his hard work.

Flipping it open, he snarled. "Lindell--"

His angry tirade brought to a halt by another chime.

Turning, he reached over to the nightstand and opened the drawer.

The Bat Phone.

"Paddy?" Justin murmured.

Choate comforted his brat by running the palm of his hand over Justin's back again. "Shhhh. Duermeste, dulce." While flipping the phone open with his other. "Speak."

"I always want to bark when you say that."

The muscle in the agent's jaw twitched as all his plans went out the window.

"Viper?"

"Yeah?"

"Sorry, boss, but we're on the clock."

"Right." Choate flipped the phone closed and turned to his love. He kissed Justin's temple. "Querido? I have to go."

Young Evers moaned and turned in his sleep, presenting the agent with a delectable view of a rounded bottom, still pink its earlier attentions.

The agent squeezed both cheeks.

"Mmmmmm, Paddy," Justin moaned. "You said sleep."

Choate laughed. He'd done better than he'd thought. "I'll see if you feel the same when I get back, corazon."

"Mmmm," was all the answer he received. Then, "Te amo, corazon."

~~~

Six hours later, the quiet of the Councilor's Residence shattered with a panic-filled scream,

"PADDY!!!!"

Justin, awakened by the sound, sat up in the bed. Cold and sweating, he looked around in the darkness and realized the voice he had heard had been his own.

~~~

Six days had passed without news from Choate - nothing - leaving Justin ready to rip the paper from the walls.

He dialled Gideon, hoping his friend could provide a distraction.

"Hello?"

"Giddy?"

"Hey, JC."

"Is Damien there?"

"No."

"When did you see him last?"

"Almost a week. Why?"

"And you're not worried?" Justin demanded.

Gideon asked suspiciously, "Should I be?"

"Okay, maybe not worried. Concerned, then?"

"Haven't we had this talk, JC? You're the one who told me to be patient. What's wrong?"

Justin sighed. "Nothing. You're right. I'm being silly. You want to go do something? Get my mind off all this? Keep me out of trouble?"

"I can't today, I have to do something with my mom. How about Thursday?"

"Damn, Giddy, I was kinda hoping for today. We don't do anything together anymore."

"I can't today, JC. I promised. Thursday? Okay?"

Reluctantly, Justin said, "Yeah, fine, whatever."

~~

But, Wednesday night, Gideon woke to the warm length of his lover behind him.

"Damien?" he said sleepily as he turned.

"That better be all you're expecting in this bed, Mouse."

Gideon laughed. "Well, yeah."

"You miss me?"

"Hmm, let me think. Ow! Damien!"

"Then behave. Come here and show me how much."

Gideon slowly slid upward until he covered his lover's body with his own. "When did you get back?"

"A couple of hours ago." He kissed him.

"Good. Now maybe JC'll quiet down."

"What does my being here have to do with Justin?"

"You're here, Paddy's here, right?"

Gideon missed the strange look Damien gave him in the darkness, then forgot all about the question as his lover rolled them both over and took him in hand.

~~~

Later, much, much later, Gideon stirred to find himself alone in the great bed. Slowly rising, he tiptoed to the doorway.

Damien was on the phone.

"Of course I haven't told him. But what's going to happen tomorrow when Justin finds out I'm here and Viper's not?" A pause. "How far do you think that 'secret agent' line will last? He isn't stupid." Another pause. "Control doesn't have anything to do with it." Another pause "Mouse is nothing like CD." Another pause. "I am not Viper." Another pause. "That was uncalled for." Another pause. "No. It won't be necessary." Another pause. "I already said I would take care of it. End trans," he snapped, closing the phone with force and said, "Mouse," without turning.

Gideon jumped, his eyes wide with shock, certain he hadn't made a sound.

Damien turned steely eyes on his lover. "You're supposed to be asleep."

"I missed you," the younger man said with a pout.

"I wasn't gone that long."

"I--"

"How much did you hear?"

Gideon hesitated, thinking about lying. "That Viper didn't come home with you."

"And?"

"And nothing." He hesitated again. "Is there something wrong?"

"Wrong?"

"Viper's Paddy, isn't he?"

Damien frowned, his voice holding a warning. "Mouse--"

But, Kuschel had to know. "Isn't he?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't he come home?"

"It's complicated, Mouse."

Gideon reached the conclusion Stealth dreaded. "He's dead!"

"No, Mouse."

"Yeah, he is! Something's wrong. That's got to be it!"

"No, Mouse. He's just MIA."

Kuschel pointed a shaky hand to the phone. "I heard that conversation. If he were just MIA you wouldn't be talking like he was dead."

"Stop it!"

"Does JC know? He's gonna freak! Damien--"

The larger man took him by the shoulders and shook him hard. "Stop it, I said. Viper is not dead. There've just been. . .complications."

"Complications?"

"It's nothing to concern yourself about, Mouse."

"What do you mean, complications? What kind of complications? If he's not dead, then, where is he?"

Damien stared at his lover for a long time, weighing his response. "We're not sure."

"You're not sure? What does that mean?"

Looking away from those eyes, the agent said, "He's not dead, Mouse. He's just. . .missing."

"What does that mean?"

"It means we've lost contact with him."

"Is that normal?"

"Not usually. It happens sometimes."

"It happens, when?"

"Sometimes, Mouse. It doesn't mean that he's dead."

"But it could! You don't know."

Damien said firmly, "It doesn't."

"But it could!" Already agitated, Gideon demanded, "What were you talking about on the phone? Who were you talking to? You sounded mad."

"You don't understand, Little Rain."

"If I don't understand, I don't know how I'm gonna explain it to JC."

"You don't."

"I have to. He's gonna ask, Fox. You guys left together."

"You tell him I'm still gone."

Kuschel's eyes widened in horror. "I can't lie to him!"

"Mouse," he said harshly, the warning back in his voice.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing you need to be concerned about."

"You want me to lie to my best friend. You tell me not to lie, then you tell me to lie to my best friend. That's something to be concerned about."

The agent closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "It's complicated."

"You mean I'm too stupid to understand."

"Mouse--"

Crossing his arms tightly over his chest, Gideon pouted. "I know I'm not the brightest crayon in the box, but I thought you were different."

"Mouse, stop it right now. This doesn't have anything to do with--"

"How stupid I am?"

"Gideon." Fox growled, resisting the urge to shake his brat.

Kuschel hugged himself tighter, a hurtful expression on his face. "Then, talk to me."

"Gideon--"

"Like I'm a real person."

Fox rubbed his temple. Viper had made this look so easy. "I don't want you to worry."

"No, you want me to lie to my best friend."

"Mouse. . ."

"You're right. Maybe it's best if I don't know."

The large man enveloped the smaller figure in his arms. "All right, Little Rain. Don't lie to him. But promise me you won't tell him what you suspect." He paused, trying to catch his lover's eyes with his own. "Promise me."

~~~

"Gideon!" Justin hurried to catch up with his friend. "Gideon Kuschel, stop right there!"

The blond just increased his pace.

"Gideon!" Justin caught up to him and spun him around to face him. "You're hiding something."

"No."

"You're lying!"

Gideon impatiently shoved a thick fall of bangs from his face. "No, I'm not!"

"Gideon! What is going on?"

"Nothing!"

Justin tightened his hands into fists. "Why are you shutting me out like this, Giddy? We share everything!"

His friend frowned. "JC, no, we don't."

"When did we stop?"

"Maybe we did, when we were kids, but things change, Justin. We can't stay kids forever--"

"Kids? What does this have to do with. . ." Justin trailed off as he finally registered the look on his friend's face. "It's about Paddy, isn't it?"

Kuschel angrily shoved his hair from his eyes again. "It's about nothing!"

Justin made a rude noise. "Don't you think I can tell when you're lying?"

Gideon's face lost color as his expression gave this guilt away.

"Tell me!" young Evers hissed, grabbing his friend by his arms to shake him.

"Damien made me promise, JC," Kuschel said, struggling against the grip.

Justin blinked in disbelief. "Promise what?"

"Not to talk to you about it," was the miserable reply.

Justin released Gideon as if he were hot. "But. . .we're friends."

Kuschel rubbed the red marks on his arms. "Yes, we are. But I'm not going to break a promise to Damien. Not even for you."

Evers eyes narrowed as he snarled, "Promise? He made you promise to lie to me?"

"I'm not lying to you, JC--" Gideon had to back up a step.

"What do you call it? Withholding vital information from the enemy?"

"JC, no one called you an enemy," the young blond said, tears glistening in his eyes.

Ignoring how the sight of his companion's tears affected him, he snarled, "What am I then, Gideon? This isn't how you treat your friends!"

"JC, you're blowing this entire thing way out of proportion."

"Something horrible's happened. You know and you won't tell me!" Justin screamed.

Gideon backed up another step. "No."

"Then tell me what's going on," Justin demanded, so upset now he trembled.

"I can't," Gideon said sadly as he reached out to touch his friend's shoulder in sympathy. "It's going to be all right, though. Trust--"

Before young Kuschel could complete that sentence, stars exploded before his eyes. Half a second later, the earth rose up full force to slam him in the head.

From far away, he heard a familiar voice call out in urgency. Then the sound of two of the most loved voices in his life, raised in anger.

"Don't touch him again, CD," Fox said with deadly calm.

Justin screamed, "Then tell me where Paddy is!"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean, 'I don't know'? You were on a mission together, weren't you? You left together, arrived together! Why didn't you come back together?"

Damien never broke eye contact as he circled around to get between Justin and his fallen lover. "CD, I won't lie to you."

"Why not? You guys do it for a living, don't you?"

"CD--" the agent said softly.

"Do it now," Justin snapped. "Lie to me. Tell me he's alive."

"CD--"

Something in the agent's voice caused fear to constrict Justin's chest, making it difficult to breathe. "You sonuvabitch! You were supposed to look out for each other. He did it for you! Why couldn't you do it for him?"

"CD--" Fox said as he took a step forward.

Justin backed away. "Fuck you! Don't put your fuckin' hands on me. Fuck you all. Liars! The lot of you. I'll find out the truth my damn self!"

And he raced off.

~~~

The grey-haired man kept the gurney between himself and the large, angry man in front of him.

"You run the tests again!" the big man thundered.

"But, I've already run them three times," the man in the lab coat stuttered. He hated when he stuttered. And he only stuttered when he was nervous or afraid.

He was both.

"Then run them three hundred times more."

"The results would be the same, Brown."

The large man pinned the doctor with a look that nearly made his heart stop. "You run that test again, or the next customer in here'll be you."

~~

Now, Winston Dupre stared unseeingly at the report on his desk.

The little weasel of a pathologist hadn't even had the balls to deliver it himself. Truthfully, Brown could hardly blame him.

It wasn't true. It couldn't be true. Winn would not let himself believe it was true.

"I taught you better, little boy," he said in an anguished whisper.

Suddenly, the big man surged to his feet with a speed that belied his size. With a savage arch of his arm, Brown swept everything off his desk and onto the floor.

Then, with an equally angry roar, he brought fists down onto the top of the desk's highly polished surface with enough force to cause the heavy piece of furniture to creak as one of the legs snapped from the foundation.

After a moment, there was a pounding on the door, as agents tried to gain access to discover the source of the din.

Winn ignored the commotion, giving his grief full reign a moment before looking up. "Get away from my door. Don't you people have anything else to do?" he bellowed.

Instantly, the pounding stopped.

And Winston Dupre was left in the silence with his misery.

Justin opened the front door and immediately noticed the light on in the den. He dashed madly across the foyer, jerking open the door.

He skidded to a halt. The Councilor was frantically rummaging in the paper.

"Baba?"

Loren Evers started. "Justin. What are you doing up at this hour?"

"I thought you were Paddy."

"I wish." The Councilor went back to rummaging. "I need him here to help me. It's been three weeks. You'd think somebody'd call. Send a replacement. That Lindell fellow's all right, but he's not Paddy."

"Do you know where he is?"

"No, Justin," the Councilor snapped.

"How about when he'll be back?"

The Councilor halted and glanced up at his son, annoyed. "We have this conversation every time Choate leaves. He's back when he's back, Justin, if I knew the answers to your questions, do you think I'd be standing here ass-deep in paper? Go away now, I don't have time to talk. I have to find that file."

Justin watched his father one more second before closing the door softly and walking away in a dejected silence.

Meanwhile, back in Choate's office, the Councilor stopped his search and sat down hard in his chief aide's chair. From inside his suitcoat pocket he withdrew an envelope. The upper left-hand corner bore an official government crest and seal. The center held the Councilor's name neatly typed. It had arrived earlier by a courier in an unmarked car. The man had been dressed in a plain, black suit and sunglasses. His instructions had been to place the envelope only in the Councilor's hands.

Now he sat, staring at the unopened envelope in his hands, staring at it as if the words hidden inside would reveal themselves. Wanting to open it, afraid of what he would find inside.

~~~

He could not stand it! Hesitating only a moment, the young man picked up the small phone and began dialling the number.

It rang only once before he heard a familiar voice say, "Cook."

"Jon?"

Several seconds passed. Whirling and clicking could be heard in the background, before Jon asked tersely, "What are you doing on this line, Justin?"

"I wanted to talk and it's the only way I know to get in touch with you."

"I can't tell you anything about the mission," Jon told him bluntly.

This 'out of the blue' statement momentarily silenced Justin. "I wasn't going to ask you about the mission, Jon. I just needed to talk to somebody who maybe understands. . ."

"Understands what, CD?"

"I don't know. . .things, Jon. Spy things."

The young comm specialist sighed heavily. "I'm not talking to you about 'spy' things either, CD."

After an equally as heavy sigh, Justin asked, "Well, how about talking to me about how miserable I feel not knowing what's going on? Can you at least do that?"

Justin listened to the click of a keyboard for several moments, before Jon told him,"I'm sorry you feel miserable, guy, but that's nobody's fault but your own."

"My own?"

There was a pause and Justin heard a deep voice in the background. A few moments passed before Jon spoke again. "I don't know how to fix your problem, whatever that is. CD, I'm sorry, but there's a lot going on right now I need to focus on."

Justin took the phone away from his ear and blinked in surprised at it a few times. This definitely wasn't the response he'd expected. "I didn't ask you to fix anything, Jon. I just wanted to talk."

Usher typed on the keyboard several more seconds, covered the phone's mouthpiece and said something, then came back with, "I'm sorry, CD. Aren't there people on the Councilor's staff that you can talk to?"

Feeling very much like Alice falling down the rabbit hole, Justin asked, "People?"

Someone said something in the background again, then Jon said, "Somebody other than me. Somebody who has time to listen and can understand. Professional people?"

This was same the man he had defied Paddy for in order to go to and help find his lover? "What?"

"I'm sure he employs tons of them and every one of them is qualified to deal with your emotional, um. . .turbulence."

"Deal with my emotional--"

"There has to be a directory or listing somewhere. If you can't find it, there's got to be somebody there who knows where to look." There was a slight pause. "I gotta go, CD. The console's beeping. Good luck."

And the phone went dead.

And Justin collapsed on the bed in a disheartened heap.

~~

Miles away, hidden in the maze of Estate's compound, Jon took a deep, calming breath. "I'm sorry, CD," he said softly, then turned back to his computer array. "I do care. And I hope I can make this right for you, the only way I know how."

He began clicking away on the keyboard, watching the images on the screen.

~~~

Warm, safe and secure, Blair Sandburg tried to ignore the annoying noise and settle back to sleep.

The phone rang again.

Opening one eye, the young Guide looked up at the strong face inches away from his.

'Have it dialled down, Big Guy?' he thought wryly to himself, knowing that if he spoke, just the sound of his voice alone would be the catalyst to bring his bedmate to consciousness.

Blair glanced at the clock. Who in hell would be calling at this hour of the night? he thought as he snatched the receiver from the hook. He whispered, "Hello?" as he rubbed soothing circles on his lover's chest.

"Professor? Sorry to wake you. Is Law Enforcement there? I mean, he's not on stake out or anything, is he?"

"JC?"

The confusion and urgency of Blair's voice registered, bringing the Sentinel instantly awake. "Babe?"

Blair rose up to place a quick kiss on his lover's lips. "What's wrong, JC?" he said into the receiver.

"Paddy. Something's happened. Again. He found. . .last time. They say, dead. I don't. . .can't be. Help. Blair. Please." Justin broke down into sobbing.

Jim sat up in the bed at the mention of Paddy's name. Pulling Blair up tightly along his side, he took the phone. "Where are you, Evers?" he asked sharply.

"Here."

"Justin!" he said, using his 'TOP' voice.

"Home," Evers responded immediately. "I'm in my room."

Jim shook his head at the antics of brats around the world being alike. "Is anybody else there?"

"No."

"Then you hang up this phone, call a cab, and get your butt over here. Now."

"I--"

Ellison interrupted sternly. "A cab. I'd better not hear your Jag or 'cycle engine, mister. Understand me?"

The Sentinel's hearing picked up the hike in Justin's breathing and the rise in his heart rate.

"Justin?" Jim said softly, something was very, very wrong.

"I--" he repeated, the helplessness coming through in his voice.

Jim looked up at Blair - Choate's brat was in no condition to get himself there. But his own brat wasn't either. And Jim had to start making contact. . .

"Justin, I'm going to send an unmarked police car for you."

"No," Justin whined.

"Would you rather I come?" Jim waited for the answer he knew he'd get.

"No." Then Justin said, "Blair."

"Not going to happen. Blair stays here. You come to him." He waited. "The officer should be there soon." He waited again. "Justin."

"All right," said a small voice.

Then, a soft click and the dial tone.

The Sentinel had to smile.

As soon as he hung up, the detective reached into his nightstand drawer and withdrew a small, maroon book.

The Sentinel thumbed quickly through it until he found the page he was looking for.

"Big Guy?"

Ellison looked up into the questioning eyes of his Guide. "Viper isn't the only one with contacts."

"How will you know where to start?"

He gave Sandburg a wicked smile. "You start at the top, Babe. Always at the top."

~~~

Justin arrived at the loft just as Ellison was finishing on the phone.

Blair let him in.

The young man looked worse than when they'd been held prisoner by Eric Jones.

"JC?"

Justin looked at his friend with terrified, lost eyes. "I'm sorry to bother you, Professor. I didn't know who else to call."

Blair put his arm around Justin's shoulder. "You're not bothering me," he said, giving the small body a squeeze. "You did the right thing."

Both looked up as the Sentinel came slowly down the stairs. "Justin."

In that moment, just at the mention of his name in that tone, Justin heard it all. "No," he whimpered as he stepped from Blair's embrace. "Please."

"I'm sorry," Jim said softly as he reached the bottom of the stairs and came forward. "But, the official word is that--"

Justin interrupted him with a desperate, "No."

The detective tried again, using a different track. "They said they've recovered bodies from the wreckage. They'd been in the water for a long time, but. . ." He glanced at Blair. "They've identified one of them."

"No." Justin had begun to tremble violently.

Blair came up behind the small man as Jim came to a halt in front of him.

"I don't believe you," young Evers said, his eyes locked onto Jim's.

"Evers." Jim reached for him.

"No!" Evers snatched away. "I don't believe you."

"Justin," the Sentinel said as he tried to grasp the young man again.

"I want to see--"

"No, JC," Blair told him with gentle sympathy. "That isn't a good idea."

Justin's glance shifted from Ellison's to Sandburg's, then back again.

"Evers?"

To the Guide's, then to the Sentinel's.

"JC?"

From the detective to the teacher.

His eyes becoming larger, wilder and more unfocused.

His heart raced faster and faster as his blood ran cold. The air became harder and harder to breathe and the world shut down until all he could feel was a weight pressing down on him from all sides and all he could hear was a roaring in his ears.

Meanwhile, Jim and Blair stood, behind and before the hysterical young man. Both men's arms wrapped tightly around him, hugging each other, the small body sandwiched tightly between them. Holding on for dear life, trying to give comfort as Justin screamed. A high-pitched, half-crazed keening that sliced through the air carrying with it the agony of a mortally wounded animal wanting to die.

~~~

Stealth stood outside the Jaguar's loft. He's started to intercept the mysterious car earlier, especially when it had stopped in front of the Councilor's residence and he had seen CD get in.

A quick check of the license plate had shown it registered to CPD. It didn't take much to figure out who had sent it and where it was going.

Picking up his cell, he'd dialled the number.

"Brown," the Prime had answered immediately.

"Jaguar has him."

You could hear the sigh of relief. "Good."

"You want me to stay?"

"For a while, just to make sure. Then come back."

~~~~~~

"Justin?" the Sentinel said softly.

Young Evers looked up at him with 'dead' eyes.

"You need to eat that," he said patiently, indicating the cooling food on the plate in front of the young man.

It had been two weeks since young Evers had come in the middle of the night.

The Councilor had eagerly relinquished his son into the detective's care. Justin was no trouble, being unnaturally quiet and extremely polite, which was enough to cause the Sentinel considerable consternation, but getting the brat to eat and sleep was like trying to hold back the tides.

"I'm not just not hungry," he said softly, his eyes pleading now.

"Eat anyway," Jim told him sternly. "Blair fixed that especially for you. It would be rude not to eat at least some of it."

Young Evers turned his gaze on his friend and sighed. Slowly, he picked up the fork and forced a forkful of food into his mouth.

"Good boy," Jim found himself saying, as if talking to a child.

Blair watched helplessly as Justin chewed slowly, then swallowed.

"Again," Jim said.

Justin reluctantly shoved another forkful into his mouth as a tear slid slowly down his cheek.

This time, as soon as the smaller man swallowed, he jumped up, holding his hand to his mouth.

"Justin?"

But Evers had raced for the bathroom, slamming the door.

"He can't keep this up," Blair said softly.

Jim listened to the sounds of Justin's retching until he could stand it no longer. Walking over to the bathroom, he opened the door. "Justin, I-- SHIT! Blair, call an ambulance! Justin!"

Blair raced in behind his lover, the phone already to his ear. "What is it? Oh, no!"

Jim knelt by the side of the commode, pulling the small figure upright from the floor where he lay in a crumpled heap. "He's on fire," Jim said, holding a hand to Justin's forehead. "I thought I felt heat coming off him earlier."

Blair gave the dispatcher their address. "Hurry, please."

~~~

Jim stood in front of the doctor, his classic 'Protector of the Tribe' stance, arms tightly clasped across his chest, scowl on this face.

"He's severely dehydrated and running a fever. I'd like to keep him here for observation. Antibiotics and I.V. fluids should have him up and around in no time."

"Thanks, doc," Blair said with a smile of apology as he took his lover by the elbow. "Down, boy," he said softly. "Heel."

Jim looked down at him with love. "I wasn't that bad."

Blair laughed. "No. At least you didn't growl."

"I thought about it," Jim said with a smile and leaned down for a kiss only to be interrupted by his cell phone. Flipping it open, he barked. "Ellison."

"Detective, there's a call for you. They say it's urgent," said the voice from CPD dispatch.

"Put him through, then." And a second later, "Yeah?""Detective?"

"Benny? Where are you, you little weasel?"

"Now, Detective. . ." Benny said in a placating manner.

Jim lost his patience. "Benny, I've been lookin' all over Cascade for you--"

"I been outta town. I just as now got back."

"Benny, you promised me information--"

"No need to get yer panties all in a bunch, Detective. I got what you need."

"Give, Benny."

"You know better. Not over the phone," the snitch told him.

"Then, I'll send a car--"

"You, Detective. Just you. And now. This offer is only good for the next 60 minutes. After that, I'm blowing this popsicle stand for good."

"Benny--"

"I'm at Marian's. Meter's running, Detective."

And the line went dead.

"Shit!" Jim snarled.

"What?"

"Benny. He's got the stuff I need for the McLeod trial, but he'll only give it to me."

"You're going over there?"

"I have to."

"Then, I'm going with you," Blair said stubbornly.

"No. Somebody has to stay here."

"You heard the doctor. JC's down for the night."

"Still, somebody should be here--"

"If you think I'm letting you go to see that pimple all alone, you're crazy," Blair told him with a finality that made the Sentinel smile.

"Down boy," Jim said as he threw his arm around his guide's shoulders and turned them towards the elevators. "Heel."

~~~

Winston Dupre sat at his big desk and fought down the urge to kill for the third time that day.

This entire mission had turned into a fiasco. Viper missing (he wouldn't even let himself think of him as anything but missing. Hoss hurt and out of the play. Stealth beside himself with worry. Aces chomping at the bit to return to recover his leader.

He didn't blame Aces, he thought (as he fought the urge to kill for a fourth time). He couldn't stand the waiting either. But there were other things he had to consider. The Councilor had come apart at the news. Keeping himself together only for his political career, damn his son. And, Viper's brat. . . He was worried and missed Viper and was concerned for his safety and wanted answers to questions, but the little one. . .the little one was going to be a problem.

All his mental alarms had started going off at once.

As soon as the team had returned without Viper, he had assigned Aces and Stealth to watch the little one.

Maybe he should've brought him into the Estate, where he could be watched more closely.

Justin Evers could be a handful.

But Stealth and Aces were two of his best agents. Surely, they could handle one small brat. . .

Just then, there was a knock on his office door.

"Come!" he barked harshly.

Slowly, the door opened and a sheepish and contrite pair of the Estate's best agents slid into the room.

"What happened?" Brown asked, his stomach tightening with dread.

Both agents looked at each other, then back at their Prime and took a deep breath.

"It's about CD. . ."

~~~

"CD?" Arden said, trying to keep the panic from his voice. "Are you still there?"

"Am I?" The young man sounded truly confused. "No. I'm not," he said sadly. "I've lost the best part of me."

The voice on the line sounded even more faint.

"CD?" Arden waited. "Tell me where you are."

"Where I--" The voice trailed off into silence.

"Tell me where you are, CD," he repeated with more force.

"Why?"

"You sound like a very nice person. Maybe I want to meet you."

"I'm not worth. . ." The voice trailed off.

"CD!" Arden called after several anxious moments of silence.

"Yes."

"Tell me where you are."

"No."

"Well, at least tell me what you took?"

After a hesitant lull, Arden heard, "Pills. . ."

His patience beginning to fray, Arden raised his voice in frustration. "What kind??"

"I told you I didn't know."

"How many, how long ago?"

"What?"

"How many pills?"

"Lots." He emitted a shaky sigh. "Lots and lots. All colors. And shapes. I. . .I wonder why they come in so many shapes and colors. . .kinda like. . . people, you know?"

"When, CD?"

"What?"

"When did you take the pills? How long ago?"

"I. . .dunno."

"Was it still light outside?"

"Light?"

"Was the sun still up?"

"Yes." Pause. "What time is it now?"

"I don't know. CD? What time do you think it is?"

"Too late."

######

Viper had been on hundreds of these missions in his career. Many of them had been successful, a few had failed. Viper refused to have any doubts tonight. Doubts led to mistakes. This was a quick I&O. Dangerous, but they had done it before. Nodding the go ahead to his team, the five men checked their gear one last time before sliding off into the darkness of the waters that surrounded the dingy.

Their objective: regain the core from the navigation center of a spy vessel disguised as a fishing trawler. Grim and hideous, no one would suspect this monstrosity to shelter this kind of sensitive and sophisticated equipment.

Satisfied everything was in order, Viper finally levered himself over the edge of the dingy and into the water. Despite the magnitude of the ship's size, she was fast. He and his team would only have one chance at overtaking and boarding it successfully.

Activating his personal comm, Viper said, "Give me a check."

"Omega Two, check. To your right, in sight. No 'ears; detected," Stealth answered immediately.

"Omega Three, check. Bringing up the rear. Nice view."

"Omega Four, check. Freezing my ass off to the left. I shoulda stayed with the bird. Let's do this before I lose something vital."

At point, Viper touched the hull of the approaching trawler first. Fighting the swell made by the ship's frame, he held on with a gloved hand and glanced up at the railing as he broke the surface. The deck was clear. "Three?"

"Here, boss."

"Make a way."

The team leader didn't have to see Hoss to know his orders would be carried out. There was a pause, then the almost inaudible click and hiss of a grapple.

When he heard the dull thud of the hook hitting the deck, he heard a clank of the metal on the rail.

"Way," Hoss said softly.

"Let's move," Viper ordered as he grabbed for the rope and began hauling himself up hand-over-hand. The line had a knot every two feet and made his assent easier. He reached the deck in moments. ."Down by the numbers, gentlemen."

Once onboard, Viper slid open the zipper on a pouch holding his silenced S&W 99. Behind him, his team counted off irregularly, but soon, every man was onboard.

The deck was worn, with piles of nets secured around the bow. Two men stood near the mast, working with the sail rigging. One end of the canvas had come loose and was flapping haphazardly. Both men scrambled to secure it.

Viper kicked off his fins as he slid out of his scuba gear, quietly dropping them on the pile of roping at his feet. If a fast evac was indicated, he could grab them on his way over the side. If he couldn't, he could make do without them, and none of the equipment (or men) could be traced.

"Ten, gentlemen. Let's move," Viper commanded as he signalled for Aces and Stealth towards the wheelhouse while he and Hoss headed toward men working with the canvass.

Slipping up behind the nearest man, Viper put his hand over the man's mouth and pulled him backwards. As he had the sailor off balance, he drove the silencer up under the man's ribs on his left side and pulled the trigger twice.

The body dropped like a stone.

Next to him, Hoss was already pulling his partner's body behind a row of crates and out of sight. Viper followed suit.

Making a quick sweep of the deck, they located the captain at the helm with the first mate and two more crewmembers astern.

The two men then headed for the doorway of the wheel house to provide back up for Aces and Stealth.

Suddenly, a harsh shout shattered the air. Viper whirled in time to see a man behind him stagger backwards, Hoss standing closeby, gun drawn. "We need to move it!" Viper said into his comm.

"Two."

"We might not have two."

"Working it," Aces said. "Last piece. Give us all the time you can."

Viper turned to Hoss. "So much for surprise. Let's do it."

~~~

Ten minutes later, the team raced for the railing, all hell breaking loose behind them as Stealth's charges began to explode in a chain reaction that rocked the entire ship.

Stealth turned just as he started over the rail. "Where's Viper?"

"He was right behind me," Hoss told him.

The large man turned in time to see their leader racing across the deck, dodging debris.

"What the fuck is he doing?! Viper!" Hoss screamed just as a blazing ball of fire erupted from the ship's core.

The impact of the blast sent the full force of Stealth's body weight against the large man's chest. "VIPER!" The rest of his words where drowned out as their combined weight and momenturm took them both up, out, and over the side of the ship into the murky waters below.

"VVVIIIIIPPPPERRRR!"

The name echoed off the walls as Hoss watched the ship come apart as Stealth pulled him overboard.

"VIPER!!"

He screamed as he clutched at thin air.

"Shhh, Jackie! It's okay."

Arms came around him in the darkness.

"Viper!" he whimpered as he clutched at the arms holding him.

"Shhh," Avery soothed. "Go back to sleep. It's just a dream."

"Viper!" John whispered raggedly.

"Shhh," Avery soothed again as he held his friend in the darkness.

"I was supposed to have his back."

"Shhh." Avery's voice cracked this time.

"That's my job. I'm supposed to protect him."

"Shhh."

"Damn you, Viper! You were behind me! Why couldn't you just stay behind me?" The big man began to cry. "I was supposed to protect him."

"Shhh, it wasn't your fault."

~~~

"CD, do you hear me? None of this is your fault." Pause. "CD?" Pause. "CD CD, answer me! CD! CD!" Arden turned to the room. "Dammit! Shirley, what are you doing? What's taking so long? CD!"

-30 -