Laz rapped sharply on Trevor's door.  He grinned at the man's expression when he opened the door, shoved a cup of tea at him, effectively pushing him away from the door and went in.  He closed the door behind him, still grinning at Trevor's glare.  "The dragons found Bradshaw."

"Where?" Trevor asked taking the tea gratefully.  He'd actually gotten a few hours of sleep.  He needed a shower and some food but otherwise he should be fine for at least 12 hours.  He was already getting clean clothes out, ignoring the dirty ones he'd stripped out of earlier and left in a heap on the floor. He'd worry about them when this was over - if his wardrobe lasted that long.

"They'll take us up there."

"Anybody talked to him yet?" Trevor asked heading into the bathroom for a quick shower.

"No.  The dragons said he's dead, but he smells funny.  They told Stephen and he told me, by the way.  I think he's waiting to see what we find before he talks to Rimes."

Trevor nodded. "I, ah, told Stephen I'd support any sort of, ah, creative reconstruction of the facts if by doing so we can protect Rimes. Stephen seems to think Rimes wanted to resign immediately. I hope Stephen's delaying tactics are working."

"Well, Coop Stone is looking grim but not talking.  I haven't seen Rimes."

Trevor nodded. "Let me shower and I'll meet you out front."

Ten minutes later, hair still wet, Trevor was hurrying down the stairs of the House, just as Laz arrived.

"It'll be just us.  But from what Tarn's told me about the smell, I called Ian.  If we need him they'll bring him up.  Stephen said Doni's on duty in the infirmary if we need her too."

"Right." Tarn. Of all the bloody dragons here, it's Tarn. Well, Trevor doubted Tarn knew about him and Jordana anyway, so it should be all right.  He looked up as two dragons swept downward toward them.  He recognized Tarn. He sometimes did perimeter sweeps on dragonback, so kept up with the dragons staying at the Refuge. But Tarn hadn't been here when they were doing security for away teams on dragonback. And, thankfully, no away teams had been attacked for some time.  So Trevor didn't know him that well.

Laz climbed aboard the other dragon leaving Trevor eye to eye with Tarn.  Tarn dipped a wing so Trevor could mount.  "He's in a small cave above the nursery."  The dragons distinguished between the main lair and the one higher up where most of the newborns and younglings lived for the sake of the humans not their own.  Tarn looked back, twisting his neck to see Trevor.

"You found him?" Trevor asked, hoping if he kept things to business he might not look quite as uncertain about Tarn - no a lie. It was Jordana he was uncertain about.

"Yes.   Tarn looked at the human on his back, tow headed and blue eyed, dressed in khaki.  The faint aroma of Jordana clung to him overlaid by soap.

"I'm sorry if it disturbed your younglings,"  Trevor replied. "How the devil did he get there..."  He was thinking out loud, not expecting any sort of answer.

"We don't know.  Maybe he flew."

Trevor grinned. "Maybe. Once we get up there I doubt we'll need to bother you dragons. Laz can zap us down or zap anyone we need up to the scene. No one's been in there, have they? Other than you when you found him?"

"No one we know of.  It's rather inaccessible except by air or magic."  Tarn's teeth flashed white in the sun.  "Ready?"

"Yes, ready."

It took only a few minutes to reach the spot.  Tarn hovered close to the cliff face and turned so his neck stretched towards the small cave opening.  "You'll have to climb down my neck."

"How on earth did you find him?" Trevor asked. But the stench coming out of the cave as he shimmied down Tarn's neck told him. "Been here awhile then."  He didn't like that one bit.

Laz passed Trevor a face mask.  "But it smells weird somehow.  Not just decomp.  And, the body's intact despite the smell.  At least the outside is."

Trevor's eyebrows shot up.  He turned then to Tarn. "Thanks for the assist, Tarn. If we need you guys for anything else, we can call on you?" He made it a question because he hated when anyone assumed the dragons would just do something without a say.

"Of course," Tarn said and wheeled away.

Laz stood next to the mouth of the cave.  "He's not very far back.  I assume you can manage lighting?"

"Sure. I'm not totally helpless.  Clueless sometimes," Trevor added. "What is that smell? You're right. It's definitely not just decomposing body smell. Been there a lot of times and this is very different."

"I don't know, but the whole place reeks of magic, which makes me wonder.  The one thing we know for sure about the Assassin is his ability to disguise himself.  We don't know what he looks like.  Hell, we don't even know for sure he is a he.  So maybe it isn't make-up and wigs, maybe it's talent or magic and he just assumes an identity."

"Christ," Trevor muttered.  He felt like he was trying to push his way through a viscous, invisible goo that was encasing him more and more with every step.  He began sweating and shaking. "Laz," he said, taking a step backward, and feeling a slight easing of it.

When Laz turned to him, he said, his teeth gritted against the sensation the goo was giving him. "I've felt this sort of spell before. It's to keep magical types out. Either we need Ian here to lift it, or we'll need to use just non-magicians here. I gather you don't feel anything in the way of a spell?"

"No, just a sense of magic, like my skin itching more and more as I get closer.  And that smell.  Witch smell, I call it, it always feels feminine somehow.  It's different from what I associate with say Ian or one of the mages on Aaru.  It's more...more acrid."  He fell silent for a moment and then said, "I just let Stephen know.  He'll send Ian up."

Ian, alerted to where they were, was easily able to sense the magic and transported himself up to the outside of the cave. He stood there a moment, assessing what was going on. "Interesting," was what he said.

"Great. So pleased you find it amusing. Can you remove it?" Trevor was sweating again and his temper was getting the better of him, quite possibly due to the spell as well.

Ian shook his head.

"If you say, one more time, I should take lessons, I swear I'll pull out my pistol and shoot you dead, despite how it would upset Betty Jo," Trevor added.

"Hmmm," Ian muttered, not having wasted any time listening to Trevor. It was a familiar argument, one that came up quite often.  "I think I can. I can at least remove most of it. I wonder what he doesn't want you to see. I think, Trevor, it is aimed at you. Specifically, I mean."

"Bullshit," Trevor replied.

Ian shrugged. "Don't believe me. Whatever. I thought you were the one who followed the evidence. Let me see," he added, closing his eyes. "Let me know if it eases up on you."

Trevor, who'd felt as if he were going to suffocate, as the goo seemed to be cocooning him and strangling him at the same time, gritted his teeth and waited.

Laz looked unaffected. Ian looked a bit busy but otherwise quite fine, if still raising magic around them.

Even Laz felt the power surge, although it was on a magical frequency. Ian's hair began to rise from the static electricity in it reacting to the surge of power. The magician held out a hand, opened his eyes and there was a flash. Trevor and Laz both closed their eyes.

"Better?" Ian asked, looking a bit worriedly at Trevor.

"Yeah. Not gone totally, but way less than it was," Trevor replied.  He was already hurrying toward the body. "I hope it won't destroy with little evidence we have, you removing the spell."

Ian frowned. "Doubt it. I think that might have been a thumb in your eye, Trev, as opposed to anything else."

"Now check out the body, Ian."  Laz jerked a thumb towards the interior of the cave.

Ian followed Laz. Trevor had reached it first. He was squatted down beside it frowning. "It can't have been Bradshaw either in the elevator or at the bar.  Assuming of course, this really is Bradshaw.  We'll have to check DNA to be sure."

"I'd have to agree," Laz said.  "But I'm more than willing to assume it is."

"Yeah me too. Ian can you or Laz bag it in something so we can get it down to .. I hate to send it to the infirmary. Bu we need someone to get DNA and see if they can figure out how he died and an actual time of death."

"Bag it and tag it," Ian said. "I've always wanted to say that."

"Then go for it, man.  And don't worry about Doni.  She's got a strong stomach," Laz advised.  "I'll get on seeing if we can find some DNA to compare.  Or maybe we can run the prints."

"Right," Trevor said, and watched as Ian concocted a cocoon of magick, one that wasn't affecting him, he was relieved to sense.

"Go ahead," Trevor said to Ian when the cocoon was complete. "Take him down to Doni. I want to look around here a bit," he explained as he lit a bit of spirit light, one of the things he actually had learned to do.  "See if there is anything here that might help us figure this out."

Ian nodded and he and the body disappeared.

Laz disappeared right behind him.

Trevor approached the area where the body had lain.  There was no sign of a struggle, no indication of any sort of movement of it. Just a rocky ledge. Trevor sank back on his heels and rubbed his chin. Why here? There had to be a reason why it was here. It hadn't been picked at random, he was certain of that.

He did, after searching the place inch by inch, find something that might be a fiber. He pulled a small baggie out of his pocket and a pair of tweezers and stuck it into the bag. He'd come back and go over it inch by inch if he needed to. But for now that seemed about all he could find.

He frowned realizing he'd have to get himself back. He'd done it before. He concentrated on the Infirmary and hit the go button.

Well, he got close. He ended up in the cafeteria.  Just as well, he needed something to eat anyway.

Laz was holding a plastic bag when he got to the infirmary.  He held it out.  'It's addressed to you."

"What?" Trevor muttered.  He'd felt better after a sandwich and coffee (extra caffeine).  But this.  "I should dust the thing for prints."  He stuck the bag in a bag and zipped it up.  "Anything else?"

Laz laughed.  "That's not enough?  Doni said he's been dead for months.  Poisoned just like Duval only someone preserved the body.  Magic.  Not embalming.   And, Jordana and Lev are back.  In your office.  I'm going to get some sleep."

Trevor thanked whatever god chose to put in an appearance or turn an ear his way that he'd had some food. He wasn't looking forward to seeing Jordana. He wasn't sure what the hell he was feeling, and he had not a freaking clue what she was.  Still, he headed for his office. He'd brief Stephen the moment he heard what, if anything, Jordana and Lev had found.

He walked into his outer office and his minion looked up.  "They're waiting. Stephen wants a word, as does Cal. Oh, and the MP was railing on the phone earlier, I told him I had no idea when you'd be back.  Coop Stone dropped by too."

Great, just great. One thing at a time.  He opened the door and walked into his office.

Jordana felt a frisson of awareness climb her spine as the door clicked open.  She resolutely didn't turn from the window.  She didn't need to, she felt his eyes boring into her like she had a target on her back.  Sensitive to him before, now he made her feel raw, skinless.  Heart pounding, mouth dry, palms damp aware.  When he spoke his voice washed over her like a balm, starting a flutter in her stomach and an ache in her crotch.  She was so fucked.

"Glad to see you two are well," was what he was saying.

Lev hid a grin. Trevor had barely noticed he was in the room.  "Well, we had a moment or two of high excitement. Otherwise, it was pretty boring."

"Oh?" Trevor asked.

Lev resolutely kept his mouth shut.

She considered rudeness and rejected it.  So she turned around, hoping her face was impassive, sure it wasn't.  "Someone's restored Christina's apartment."

His face was strictly controlled. "Please sit," he said, determined to stand until she took a seat.  Lev, who'd sat earlier, put a hand over his mouth.

One look at him and she took the other seat across from his desk without a word.  Her nose wrinkled.  "You found a body?"

"Oh, I should shower, I suppose. Forgive me, please. Yes we did. First tell me about what you found, and about your conclusions regarding how you found Christina's apartment." Keep it strictly business, that way there'd be no emotional surprises.  And if Lev didn't stop smirking he was going to beat the crap out of him.

She walled the hurt away and picked a point just over and past his shoulder to focus on.  "Well, at the moment the most logical, given the evidence that magic was used, is Christina's been there.  But if she has, why hasn't she contacted me?"

"If she was there?" he asked.

"There's nothing to indicate who it was.  The power signature was too faint to read."  Why was Lev just sitting there, looking amused?  The humor atrophied his vocal cords?

"And the accounts?  The safe deposit box? Any help there?"

"Note in Ashad's box.  I need to go over them, I think they might explain the casino code.  Otherwise, nothing."  With every sentence her replies and her voice got cooler, more clipped.

Trevor looked at the clock. "Fuck!" he said, to the air, apparently. He closed his eyes. "I might have just left our Assassin go."

Lev sat forward. "How so?"

Trevor sighed and put his head in his hands. "We found Bradshaw's body. It had been dead for months, preserved with some sort of magic spell. A nice note pinned to it for me.

"Thirty two minutes ago the MP left with his entourage.  If the Assassin can use magic to appear to be someone else..."  he let his voice fade off. "Bloody hell but I'm incompetent. And Rimes thinks he should quit."

"Hardly."  She made sure she drawled, but kept her tone and face bland.  "But I can understand the appeal of self-castigation.  All those wounds to lick later."

He looked up at her, opened his mouth then shut it again after a glance at Lev.

"Don't worry, I'm outta here," Lev said and zapped himself away leaving the two of them alone.

"At first I'd thought he was merely disguising himself. Apparently he can, somehow, take on another identity.  No idea why he preserved the body, unless he needed it to keep the spell going. I'm so relieved you're safe. I was worried."

Her head jerked up so fast she heard her neck snap.  What the hell did she say to that?  Air was in short supply so she just nodded.  "Oh."  How clever.

"I'm sorry I acted like an ass. You didn't need my permission or my .. I apologize."  Oh great job, Trevor.  You sound like you're sorry you bumped her elbow.

It was difficult to swallow.  Her mouth felt like sawdust.  She licked her lower lip getting it ready to nibble on.  "Uhm, yeah.  It's fine.  You were just doing your job."

"I just ..."  He couldn't find a bloody word to say. What the hell was wrong with his brain.

"Is there any tea?"

"Ah, yes I keep some here." He rummaged in his desk and produced a box of tea and a mug. "But no milk. Or water."

She waved a hand.  On his desk appeared a kettle, still whistling, milk, sugar and a second mug.  "Biscuits?  Or maybe scones?"

He pulled out a tin of biscuits, wondering what this was about.  He opened the tin and put tea in each mug. "Sorry, bags. Easier in the office."

"Thanks.  I never got breakfast.  So I'm thinking the problem is low blood sugar," she said.  She bite into a biscuit and munched while he made tea.

"Milk, sugar?  It's turbinado."  Safety in nonsense, that's what it was.

"I prefer it."  She dumped two spoonfuls in the cup and added milk.

"As do I," he replied sitting back in his chair watching her warily.  She was like some barely house-broken kitten. He had no idea what she was thinking or if she'd disappear at any moment. So he did his best to cultivate patience, not a natural virtue for him.

She finished the cookie and half the mug of tea.  Fortified she met his eyes.  "Ok.  Possibly that will enable me to think rationally.  If it doesn't, then...well, I'll cross that bridge then."  One lived to hope, apparently.

"Ah," was the only word he could find. He had no idea what to say, so he sipped his tea.

"So uhm, you apologized and I blew off any reason for it.  Is that where we were before I called the timeout for tea?"

"I, ah, you have every right to be upset regarding my behaviour and there is no requirement that you accept my apology. I make no excuses. It happened and I'm sorry it did."

She set the cup on the desk and folded her hands in lap.  Then she dug her nails into her palms.  "What's going on with us?"

"Ah.. Good question," he replied. "Any ideas?"

"No, which is why I'm...look.  We can either try to sort it out now or put it aside until later and deal with business.  Otherwise I'm going to melt down in a puddle of confusion and anxiety and I won't be coherent for weeks.  Nor will I ever speak to you again for making that happen."

"If given a choice, I'd vote for business. But if you're going to melt down then I'll, uhm, try to figure it out with you."

"I will manage to avoid meltdown as long as we quit...Oh Christ.  Look, just don't worry about.  I'm so confused I can barely recall my name.  Just...just relax and then I will too and we can deal with business."

"As long as we quit what?  Seeing one another? Or just sex? Or....  I realize this is a bit crazy."  He got up and began pacing his office.  "You live in Poland, I live here. I'm Victorian. Can't help it, it's what I am. You're used to your space and your independence and I ... Adele calls me an antediluvian dour boor. It's true, I admit it. But I'll do my best not to be officious - her other charge against me.  It's just that until we find this Assassin I'm not going to be able to concentrate on much other than that. I'm single-minded that way.  Can't be helped really."

"Uhm Trevor.  I just meant mainly for the course of this conversation, and those odd moments while we're trying to deal with the Assassin," she said.  "Though I'm really glad you don't want to quit...whatever."

"Oh. Right. I need to talk to Stephen. I need to read this note. I need to rethink the whole of this assassination in light of what we learned.  And we still don't know why Duval."

"Okay, well then I'll leave you to it, shall I?"  She stood, focused on the door.

He stepped between her and the door. "The last time you left I let you go without a kiss. I'd like not to do that again."

"I understand.  You don't owe me anything.  You were working."  She gulped.

"I'm uncomfortable with.. well, I realize everyone around here knows everyone's business but I... Damn and blast." Instead of words he leaned down to kiss her, gently.

She leaned into him, tantalized.  Before it had always been passion and something else, something wild and explosive that left nothing for tenderness.  But this, this was devastating.  She traced his cheek, the skin smooth, resilient and warm and something in her shifted, reformed, something unfamiliar.

"What's your schedule?"

"I don't have one.  I need to see what's in the stuff from Ashad's box.  Maybe sleep for a couple of hours."

"Call me later. Perhaps we can find time for dinner."

"Ok."  She brushed her lips against his, just to feel them again and then left, closing the door behind her.

Stephen, waiting, watched Jordana go.  She didn't even notice him.  He however, saw the smile.  He hid his own and knocked.

"Come," Trevor said. He was still standing in the middle of the office when he turned to see Stephen looking to come in. "Ah. Good. We need to talk."

"Unusual woman, Jordana.  I like her," Stephen said as he sat.  "So..."

Trevor gave Stephen the Cliff Notes version of what had been going on, and then pulled out the note to himself. "And then there's this," he said as he put on gloves and opened the bag holding the note and opened it.

Stephen waited.

Trevor read it aloud, "Guess who's next."

Stephen sat up.  "Who?"

Trevor ran a hand through his hair. "How the hell do I know? But I'd bet someone more important than Duval. It's about the thrill and the danger, apparently, not because of any ideological or other sort of reason."

"That's ALL it says?  Guess who's next?"

"That's all it says...." Trevor went pale. "I know. And we're probably already too late."

"Wait!  You know who?  Or something else?"

"The MP. Has to be. He got out that way. How else to show us he's in control,"  Trevor replied.

"I'm sorry Trevor.  I'm not following you."

"If it wasn't Bradshaw who murdered Duval, it was someone who assumed Bradshaw's identity. We've got the Refuge locked down. The only way to get out of here was to assume the identity of someone in the MP's retinue. If we find another body, we'll know who's identity he stole, but I'm betting he's showing off now. And if the MP ends up dead, we'll know who killed him."

"Whew.  Alright.  So what do you want to do next?"

"Warn Blackheath, and we need to let both Blackheath and the Zoo know what's been going on. Let's hope that Rimes will rethink his resignation, since he didn't misjudge Bradshaw."  Trevor frowned. "I'm not sure how the codes Lev and Jordana went to get fit in, but somehow I'm fairly sure they do."

"Jordana seems to think Ashad knew something.  Or that's my take on it."

"Yeah. But what," Trevor replied.  "No idea at this point."

Stephen grinned.  "That's why they call it a mystery.  Can she figure it out, the codes I mean?  Or should I borrow Melly from Marc?"

"I'll ask her if she'd like some help, but I'm betting she can do it.  She knew him, how he thinks, what he was involved in."

"Ok.  Anything else I can do?"

"Help me brief Blackheath and the Zoo and talk Rimes into not resigning?" Trevor suggested.

"That I can do.  We can make it official and do it in my office if you want."

"Great. If you'll have Tommy set it up, I'll brief my team and we'll look for any sign of another body. Christ I hope not."

"Give me, say, a half hour and we'll be set.  I'll let Blackheath and the Zoo know."  Stephen stood.  "Good job, by the way.  You've made a lot of progress."

"Not me. Good folks working with me.  Have Tommy let me know the time. I need to talk to Laz and the crew."

"Will do."  Stephen left, heading for his office.  He gave Tommy a list of orders and then settled back to clear his desk before the meeting.

Trevor got back on the comms and set up a meeting with Laz and whoever else wasn't either off duty or assigned to a critical position.

Stephen decided to confine the brief to Rachel Lynne, Geoff Rimes, himself and Trevor.  He wanted it informal and he wanted to control the details about Bradshaw.  Rimes and Rachel arrived together and he passed on the cliff notes version, asking them to hold their questions until Trevor arrived.

Trevor arrived not long after, having Laz and everyone briefed and the dragons back out looking for a body.  So far as he knew, though, the MP was still fine.  He hoped he'd stay that way.

"Ms Lynne, Mr. Rimes," Trevor said as he joined them in Stephen's office.

"I've already given them the short version," Stephen said, offering him a drink as he spoke.

Trevor took it gratefully and turned his eyes to Rimes. "From what Ian said, the spell has to be immensely complex. Our assassin takes over the life of someone weeks before, even perhaps longer, and lies in wait for the proper moment. You vetted Bradshaw but couldn't know the man you knew wasn't him."

"It explains a lot," Rimes said.  "Makes me long for the days at NSA."

"And even they had moles," Trevor agreed.

Rimes laughed.

"We're notifying the minister now," Rachel said.  "He's enroute to Dulles with his staff.  I assume you'd like to intercept him somewhere before he gets there."

"If we can, yes. I'm not sure he'd take a warning from us on the phone very seriously," Trevor replied. "He was pretty hostile."

"We're not giving him the option," Rachel said.  "He's going to be stopped by the highway patrol.  We sent his driver a message."

"No," Stephen said.  "We'll handle it.  Trevor?"

"Yeah, I'll round up Laz and his crew and maybe take St. John to hold the MP's hand, if that's all right with you, Rachel. How he keeps his temper and doesn't deck that guy is beyond me.  St. John's a better man than I."

Rachel smiled faintly.  "I'll let London know so they're prepared."

"Do we know the minister is really the minister?" Rimes asked.

"No.  Another place where St. John can help.  Anyone else here we trust who knows him well?" Trevor asked.

"Can Ian tell if he's using magic to disguise himself?" Stephen asked. "Regardless I think we need to not notify anyone we're coming if that's possible."

"Not sure," Trevor replied. "But I'll see if I can talk him into coming along. I'm not sure he's ridden dragon back, but its about time if he hasn't."

Stephen sighed.  "Make sure no one sees them.  Closer to Dulles we could just call them the Concorde."

Trevor grinned. "So, it's a go?"

Stephen nodded and poured some scotch.  "I'll let Irisa know we may need some creative lying.  Someday I'm going to have to thank Marc for her."

Trevor had already pulled out his phone and was running out the door. They needed to intercept the car before it reached the Dulles Toll Road.  With luck they could intercept them before the countryside gave way to suburbia.

As he hit the doors to the outside of the building, Laz and his people were already popping in.  He was still on the phone with Ian, who sounded less than enthusiastic.  But by the time Trevor reached the others, Ian zapped himself in too.

Laz grinned.  "Come on Ian, it'll be fun.  Riding dragons, bagging bad guys.  What's not to like?"

"I'm not the gun-slinging type," Ian replied with dignity, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Natha, any idea where St.John is?  We need him."  Trevor was already looking at the skies for the dragons and avoiding her look. "Can you maybe fetch him?"

"I forgot it was my day to watch him.  But let me get his leash," she said.  She was back in less than two minutes, St. John in tow.

"Sheesh," St. John muttered straightening his clothes.  He looked up to see dragons coming in for a landing.  "Uhm, we're going on a picnic?'

"No.  Something even more fun," Laz said.  "We're off to annoy the minister again."

"And I'm along because he and I wear the same school tie?" St. John asked.

"And, he might be the assassin. If Ian can't tell, you're our next best hope, Obi Wan," Trevor replied.

St. John grinned. "Do I get to ride behind Natha?"

"The dragon chooses," Natha said with dignity.

In the end, poor St. John had to ride alone. Enough of the dragons thought it was a grand idea that they all wanted to go along, although they settled for a dragon for each person.

"Ian can you range ahead mentally and locate our car?"  Trevor asked.

"I believe so. If he's using magic I should be able to sense it. How many limos traveling between here and Dulles Airport have magicians inside?"

"I'm not sure I want to know," Trevor muttered.

Laz sent the word to the dragons and they launched skyward.  The minister had left a little over two hours ago and catching them in a isolated area was going to be tight.  The dragons, delighted at the need for speed, wheeled as one and turned the flight into a race.  Laz and the others who knew dragons well were unsurprised.  In fact, almost to a person, they'd expected it.  Laz laughed so hard he almost fell off at the look on Ian's face when his dragon executed a bumping maneuver to take the lead.

When they landed, while Trevor and the dragons forced the cavalcade to pull over Paul and Natha set a perimeter effectively hiding everything from mundane eyes and keeping everyone in.  Laz grinned and said, "Every game they play is about training for aerial combat, Ian."

"Yes, well, they nearly had to combat my lost luncheon," Ian muttered.  But he was already trying to decipher the spell. And there was no doubt that the man who was powering that spell was in the main vehicle.  But it was fuzzed up enough he wasn't sure whether it was the minister or someone else.

St. John, who'd taken to dragonback far better, approached the limo first.  He bent down and tapped on the window. It was some time before it began to roll down. "Hullo. Minister, might we have a word, please?"

The minister, looking furious, asked, "Here? In the middle of .. of ... the countryside?  What can possibly be so urgent that you.. Dragons!  You bloody people are .."

"Not me, sir, I'm boringly mundane," St. John replied using his best smile.

Natha opened the door to the limo.  "If you'd step out, sir, I'm sure this will only take a moment."

The minister's private secretary, his chief of staff and his security guard all got out of the limo. Then the minister, looking furious, got out.

Ian's eyes traveled over each of them.

"Nice day. Would be so much worse were it raining," St. John commented.

Trevor, hoping to stall for time, said nothing, whilst Ian worked.

Natha set her jaw.  Why her?  This was Trevor's job, or Laz's.  "Mr. Minister, we need to speak with each of you separately.  If you'll step away with Mr. Steed, we'll interview your staff.  As I said, this will only take a few minutes and is just a precaution due to information obtained in the course of our investigation into the murder of Mr. Duval."

"What information?" the minister demanded turning to Trevor.

Trevor sighed. "Please just direct your people..."

"I'll do no such thing. I've known these people for years. They have my complete and total trust."

"What makes you think we suspect them of anything?" Laz asked.

The minister's piggy little eyes narrowed. "Ursula, Kirk, George, do as they say please."

Natha, Paul and Lev each took a staff member.  Laz remained with the minister. So did St. John.

Trevor stood off a bit, watching everything.  The dragons looked on with interest too.

Ian, once they were separated, concentrated on each one in turn.  When he got to the minister he began to open his mouth. As he did so, all hell broke loose.  The first blast of power

knocked him on his ass.  The second sent Trevor to join him.

Laz lunged for the minister while Natha enclosed him in a tight containment bubble.  "That wasn't very friendly, Mr. Minister," Laz chided, fingers hard on a pressure point on his neck.  "Why'd ya go and do that?"

"Laz, can you and Lev transport him directly to our lockup?  The rest of us will see to things here,"  Trevor suggested. "I don't want the Minister to think we're taking chances with his precious hide."

"No dragon ride for you," Laz scolded.  When the minister struggled he added, "And if you don't behave, you'll get a spanking and be sent to bed without any dinner, too."  A second later he was gone.

Trevor regarded the other three. The security guy looked close to mutiny. "We discovered that the assassin can use magic to appear to be someone else. We found the body of the man we thought Bradshaw hidden in the mountains above the Refuge. He'd taken over Bradshaw's identity. We think, perhaps, that isn't actually your Minister."

"You'll have an opportunity to speak with London.  But, I'm afraid, you won't be flying out today.  We need you to return to the Refuge," Natha said.  "Paul and I will drive the limo's.  All you need to do is relax."

Trevor went to speak to the dragons, asking them to return with him.  He wanted St. John and Ian with Natha and Paul just in case. And he'd round up whoever Stephen thought it wise to include, and have a chat with the man, or woman, posing as Minister Reynolds.

Natha slipped behind the wheel of the limo and eyed St. John as he got in next to her.  "Shouldn't you be babysitting the minister?"

He grinned at her. "I'm babysitting you instead. Seemed like far more fun to me."

She didn't speak until they were back on the highway.  "It's likely we'll be gone by tomorrow."

He gave that some thought.  "Going any place exciting?"

"The Rim."

"Where's that?"

"About 500 million lightyears from Pluto.  I work for Marc and Dinah Siolastre.  Right now we're hunting space pirates."

St. John blinked. "How... interesting." He was silent for some time. "Sounds like a lot more fun than rounding up assassins."

She passed a semi and then looked at him for a moment.  "It's working for the Siolastre that makes it fun.  St. John..."  She sighed and looked back at the road.  "We get back here fairly regularly so Marc and Dinah can spend time with their children, see friends, that sort of thing.  And sometimes we help out on jobs like this one."

"Sounds like a great job."

"Right then.  Well, what are you going to do when you get back to London?"

"Slit my wrists."

That earned him another look.  "Huh?"

He looked over at her, and shook his head. "Seems pretty dull in comparison, doesn't it? London, I mean."

She sighed.  "How old are you?"

"Why?  What's that got to do with anything?"

"Never mind."

"Sorry. What were you going to tell me? I'm 33."

"I'm one hundred and seven.  I live on a sentient ship in outer space with the woman the dragons call the Heir like they're referring to their God.  I'm Awakened.  I read minds, teleport, fabricate what I want out of pure energy using my mind.  I'm a mercenary.  I used to work in black ops for the CIA.  I am not a nice woman.  I should have made all that plain three days ago.  You may not think London is all that exciting, but trust me, places are places and people are people, no matter where."

"And I'm a 33 year old boringly normal sort of fellow who babysits British politicos. Point taken."

"Damn it, don't get your ego in a twist and start pretending to be obtuse.  That's not what I meant and you know it.  I like you.  I even enjoy your company when you aren't making me want to smack you silly...like now.  I was suggesting, five paragraphs ago anyway, that I'd enjoy seeing you again when I can.  I just felt a need to make sure you understood what I am, what you'd be dealing with."

"I got that. And I'd like to see you whenever you're back. But, as you can imagine, it's a bit ...difficult to be a completely mundane sort of fellow who has to deal with beings such as yourself, not to mention dragons, mages, vampires, werewolves and possibly beings I've never even thought of yet."

I understand that, which is why I spelled it out.  I understand if you'd rather not deal with it in your...your personal life."

He grinned. "Rather not? Are you out of your mind?"

"Jesus," she muttered.  "I'll never figure out men."

"Good to know I'm mysterious at least," he retorted.

"Oh shut up.  I'm driving."

He fought down a laugh. "Yes, ma'am."

Trevor, sitting aboard Tarn as they flew back toward the Refuge, found his idle mind traitorously going back to the conversation, well, the imitation of one at any rate, he'd had recently with Jordana.

She had to be completely at sea. Suddenly drawn out of her safe obscurity by him, and pretty much pressed into servitude, again by him. Then, tossing aside all sense of professionalism, not to mention common decency, he'd used all of that and they'd ended up lovers. And now she was saddled with a dragon, even if she wasn't quite aware yet that it was already a permanent state.

He should, by all rights, be hung. By his bloody balls.  He sighed. Instead of being pleased it looked like he'd cracked the case and had in custody a man who was wanted across the world for endless assassinations, here he was moodier than ever.

Tarn eavesdropped without compunction.  The man was important to his companion and she seemed to be unhappy about him; that was reason enough in dragon terms.  Though maybe unhappy was the wrong word.  "You're important to her," Tarn said suddenly, speaking mind to mind.

Trevor jumped. "I beg your pardon?" he said it aloud.

"You're important to her," Tarn repeated patiently.  "It makes her afraid."

Trevor groaned. Now he frightened her too.

"You are very foolish, even for a human," Tarn rumbled.

"Quite possibly," Trevor agreed. "I've never been very bright, I'm afraid.  Why do I frighten her?"

"See?  This is what I mean.  You do not frighten her.  You being important to her does."

He frowned. He was?  He began replaying the conversation in his head, trying to consider it in a far less emotional setting. Finally he told Tarn, "She's upset because of the changes in her life. She's not sure what she wants. And she's unsure about how to deal with you."

Tarn snorted.  "You are as bad as she is.  You need a dragon to explain things to you.  But we have an agreement with Victoria.  So I will have to do it.  She is used to change.  She knows how to be alone. She doesn't know how to not be alone."

"What agreement with Victoria?'

"You're already taken," Tarn said, like he was speaking to a three year old.  "She is not a dragon, but she could be."

Trevor growled. Damn that horse. Bossy as always. Could be a dragon?  He forced that aside for now, and decided he'd have a long, probably fruitless conversation with her in the very near future. "Well, you'll teach her now not to be alone," Trevor said aloud. "Your job."

Tarn blew fire from his nose.  "Why are you so afraid of caring for her?"

Bloody dragons. "I'm not afraid of caring for her. I'm just.. Perhaps it's just loneliness on my part. I'm not sure what is between us. Nor is she."

"You keep trying to talk yourself into letting her go by coming up with all the reasons why you should.  Do you really think she is so weak you can take advantage of her, like you think you're doing?"

"She's feeling vulnerable. I took advantage of that. But no, I know she's not weak. She's lonely. That's different."

"Humans are such fools," Tarn lamented.  "You never listen.  You just make excuses why happiness isn't possible."

"What?" Trevor asked, exasperated. "What aren't I listening to?"

"That she cares for you.  And you care for her.  Instead you talk about being lonely and vulnerable like those things are obstacles.  Rather they are questions to ask and answer.  You are using them as excuses to protect yourself."

Was he?  Finding excuses?  Did she?  Really care for him?

Tarn snorted and started to descend.

Trevor pushed it all aside and decided he was never going to let his mind wander within 100 feet of a dragon again. "Thanks Tarn. Thank the others for me too. You guys were invaluable."

"But not worth listening to," he grumbled and took off again, back into the sky.

"Thanks for that too, Tarn," Trevor thought at him. "You are worth listening to."

Tarn roared and wheeled, dipping a wing in farewell.

Trevor had pushed it all away when he walked into Stephen's outer office. "Hi Tommy. The boss around?"

Tommy waved him to the door.  "Want tea?"

"That would be lovely, thanks."  Trevor went to the door to Stephen's office, knocked then stuck his head in. "Got a minute?"

"Sure." Stephen saved the file he'd been working on and swiveled around to face him.  "Want a drink?"

"Tommy's getting me tea, thanks. Laz zapped back with Mr. Minister. It seems he's our guy. Or else you're going to be flogging me in public."

"I've never really gone in for that kind of thing.  But then I'm not Brit public school."

Trevor grinned. "Normal part of the welcoming festivities. I'm going to go interview him. Thought you might want to observe. And invite others, perhaps."

Stephen grinned.  "I'll gather the lucky few.  We'll watch from Ops Center.  Say half an hour?"

"Sounds good," Trevor replied and thanked Tommy who came in with a cuppa.

"I should clean up first.  Oh, and we need to look for another body."

"I'll let the dragons know," Stephen said.  "Any idea whose?"

"If I'm right, the Minister's. If I'm not, I'm hoping our guys driving two limos home, survive."

"Half an hour then," Stephen said.  "Since I'm sure you're right."

"Well, he'd be pretty stupid to just let them bring him back here. He'd have zapped himself out of there. So I'm pretty sure I'm right too. Later."  Trevor, cuppa in hand headed up to his room to shower and change.

He paused in the hallway looking down toward Jordana's room, but no, he didn't have time and she needed the sleep.  He let himself in and headed to the shower.

Stephen gathered Rimes and Rachel, bringing them up to date as they walked to the Ops Center.  When they were in place, Laz brought the Minister from the holding cell to the interrogation room and sat him down.  "Tea?  Or coffee?" he asked politely.

"Neither. How dare you hold me."

"Well, if I really believed you were the minister I might be worried.  But since I don't, holding you is easy."

The door snicked open and Trevor walked in, looking fresh from his shower, and carrying a refilled tea cup.  He looked up at the camera. "Cal, please time stamp the vid and have the interview begin now."

"Gave you no trouble, Laz?" Trevor said as he sat down. "I'm disappointed."

"Other than attitude, none at all," Laz said, leaning his chair back against the wall.  "But I hadn't gotten as far as threatening torture yet."

"Hmmm.  Why don't we start by you telling me where the Minister's body is, Mr, er, whoever you are.  What shall I call you?"  Trevor mused aloud.

"I've no idea what you're talking about," the suspect replied, his voice hard.

"We found Bradshaw's body, you see, so we know how you did it.  And we've a few magicians here who can dissect your spell.  I just thought you might like to get things over a bit faster and more elegantly,"  Trevor suggested.

"Or there's always torture," Laz added, sounding cheerful at the prospect.

"I demand a barrister!  I'm covered under diplomatic immunity. Release me at once!" the suspect said jumping to his feet.

Laz laughed.  "Diplomatic immunity?  Only if you're the minister, and we know you're not.  We're looking for his body as we speak.  He must have already been dead when you pulled that crap with Stephen last night.  Because there's no way I'd believe even the Brits were that pansy-assed to make a sniveling, whinging little boy like you a minister.  Even if they do still have that whole public school thing going on."

"Laz, please do remember I also am a Brit," Trevor commented, amused. Then he leaned forward toward the perp. "As is Ian Blakesley who will be able to dismantle your spell layer by layer and then dismantle the rest of you."

For the first time since they'd begun, the perp looked uncertain.

"Yeah, Ian," Laz chimed.  "The guy you knocked on his ass. Very touchy about things like that is our Ian.  Very touchy."

"And he can be quite ruthless, but then you know that, don't you?" Trevor commented, then sipped his tea. "So who hired you to off Duval anyway.  How ironic, that someone as insignificant as him, a job that really meant nothing, will be your downfall."

"You don't understand anything," the perp replied, his eyes going hard.

"Why don't you explain it all to me then," Trevor suggested.

The perp's lips tightened into a thin line and he locked his eyes on a point behind Trevor's right ear.

"You can't zap out of here. The entire Refuge is locked down. There's no way out,"  Trevor said flatly.  "The best you can hope for is for us to be ... reasonable."

"Is that my cue to get out my bowie knife and start cleaning my nails?" Laz asked.

"Well, since we don't have to worry about the niceties of holding people for too long, or making formal charges or whatever, I'm in no hurry. Are you, Laz?"

Laz raised an entirely serious eyebrow.  "I certainly am.  I've already been away from Anja for over a week now because of this yahoo."

"Ah, I'd forgotten that," Trevor replied. "But then I'm not as fortunate as you."  Then he turned to the perp. "So perhaps you'll just be wise and let us know who hired you, and why and .."

"And what? You'll just let me go?" the perp sneered. "Why should I tell you anything."

"Because we police our own and Duval was one of ours.  And, unfortunately, so are you.  So no, we won't let you go.  What you're deciding between is the difference between being euthanized and something a lot less painless and quick."

Trevor decided to let the perp stew for a bit.  He got up and exited the room.  He wasn't surprised to see Ian walk into the Ops Center. "Back are you."

"Obviously," Ian replied. "So?"

"Still waiting for discovery of the body, otherwise, he's being recalcitrant, and pissing off Laz as a result."  Trev frowned. "We really don't have a way to force him to tell us anything."

"I'm really not adverse to torture," Laz said, closing the door behind him.  "The little shit keeps me here another night and I'll feed his dick to the wolves."

"Think Peter would enjoy that?" Ian asked grinning.

Laz laughed.  "His wolf would."

"You might be right," Ian agreed. "I suppose I'll just begin to dismantle his spells. One layer at a time. We'll see if that doesn't change his mind."

Unless anyone's got a better idea?" Ian added, looking around at everyone, and stopping last at Stephen.

Stephen shook his head.  "Just make sure we get it on tape."

"Right," Trevor agreed.

Ian nodded and headed toward the interview room.  He opened the door and stepped in, regarding the perp for a moment his arms crossed on his chest.

"I want to see someone first. Then ... Then..."

Ian frowned. "Why should we grant you any request?"

"Because I can give you a whole organization if you do," the perp replied.

"You need to understand that I'm not the one to decide.  But who is it you want to see?" Ian asked the perp.

"Jordana Zaki."

"Well fuck me," Laz said, watching from the Ops center, and sat down.

Trevor, observing too, wanted to sit down. Hell, he wanted to get out of there totally.

Ian just frowned at the man passing himself off as Minister Reynolds. "I'll see what they say," Ian said and let himself out of the interview room, leaving the perp sitting there staring ahead at a blank wall.

When Ian joined them in the Ops Center he looked first at Trevor then at the others. "Glad that's not my call."

"No," Trevor said.

Stephen rubbed his face, thinking.  Then he went into the interrogation room.  "Why do you want to see Jordana Zaki?" he asked without any preamble.

The man crossed his hands on his chest. "I wish to speak to her privately."

"Why?"

"I have some information for her."

Stephen was in no mood to fence.  "Do you understand that I can call someone in here who will enter your mind by force, in order to find out what I want to know?  You have no rights here but those I allow you and at the moment my inclination is to allow you none.  So I ask you one more time.  Why do you want to speak to her?"

"I have information to pass on to her, as I've told you. She'll want this. It's about her friend Christina."

Stephen left the room and returned to the Op Center.  "Well?"  He looked only at Trevor when he asked.

With all his heart Trevor wanted to just say no. Or better yet, get someone in there who could wrench the information out of the man's brain without exposing Jordana to him or whatever he had in mind. But at the same time he knew she'd hate him making that decision for her.

Trevor closed his eyes. "Her decision."

"Do you want to go get her or shall I ask Laz?"

"I'll go," Trevor said and got up and headed to her room.  He hesitated outside her door but then knocked.

She wore a towel, turban style on her head, and was drying her hair with it when she opened the door.  "Oh, hi.  Come in."

"Hullo. I uhm, we caught the assassin."

She sat down, putting the towel in her lap.  "You don't seem to happy about it."

He sat down opposite her and tried to get himself in order. "He's murdered the Minister and is now masquerading as he.  And, he claims to have some information regarding Christina and wants to see you."

She tossed the towel on the back of the desk chair and knotted her hair.  "Let's go."

He didn't move.

"What?"

"I don't trust him. He's trying to .. I don't know. Use you."  God he couldn't even begin to tell her what he feared.

"The worst is that he has Christina, isn't it?  And he wants to bargain with her?"

Well, it wasn't the absolute worst he was thinking but it was close. He nodded.

"Then let's go," she said.

"We can take someone in there who can pull it out of his mind. I'd rather we did that."

"What did he offer to give you if I talked to him?"

"An organization.  He didn't detail it any more," he replied.

"I'll be fine," she said, speaking to his real fear for the first time.  "Really."

"Jordana... " he hesitated. "We don't care here. What you've done, who you were. We aren't the law, except as it applies to keeping our people safe."

"I never doubted that.  Stephen has always believed in leaving the past in the past.  She's my friend, Trevor.  I owe her this."

"All right," he said getting up and offering her a hand.

She let him help her up and for a single, mad second wanted to throw herself in his arms and tell him she loved him, that she always would and that everything would be fine.  Instead she smiled and let him lead the way out the door.

He told himself to relax. It didn't work. He told himself it was her decision. It didn't help.  He told himself she was highly competent and completely able to take care of her self. That was pure hell.

He took her to the interrogation room and stood at the door. "If you need help we'll be in there in a second."

She nodded and allowed herself to touch his hand.  Then she went in and spoke without sitting down.  "You wanted to see me?"

"Christina said you were beautiful. She wasn't wrong."

"Where is she?"

"They are probably going to kill me, no matter what I say or do here. I want you to convince them to let me go. Christina will appreciate you helping me."

"Where is she?"

"Quite nearby. She's fine. But she's waiting for me. She told me you were her friend, Jordana. Are you?"

It took her a minute to understand what she'd heard.  "Enough of a friend to know you're lying."

He frowned. "I'm not lying. She loves you. She wants you to help me."

"No."  She said it fiercely.  "Christina, my Christina, would never help someone like you."

He leaned closer and motioned for her to come close enough to whisper.

She leaned in slightly.  "What?"

"Help me, Jordana," he whispered, in another's voice entirely.

She jerked back, slamming into a chair.  The crash of it hit her like a cattle prod.  She steadied herself on the table, leaning into his face.  "You son of bitch!  Quit screwing with me.  Where the hell is she?  Tell me or I'll kill you."

The spell disguising the perp dropped and Jordana was looking at Christina, whose eyes were wide with pleading.

"Oh no, fuck no," Jordana whispered.  "Please, no.  This is another spell.  You're just trying to manipulate me aren't you?"  Jordana sobbed, a fine tremor rippling under her skin.  "You can't be Christina.  Christina wouldn't do this."

The door burst open and Trevor was there. He hurried over and wrapped his arms around Jordana. Laz stood at the door just to discourage their prisoner from trying anything.  Ian, on the comms, said, "The spells are gone. That's for real."

"You crazy bitch," Laz said.

"It can't be her," Jordana cried.  "It can't be.  She wouldn't, Christina would never...she's a good person.  She doesn't kill people."

"You do," Christina said.

"I'm not a good person!" Jordana screamed.  Tears streamed down her face.  She fisted her hands, digging her nails into her palms.  "I'm not you!"

Trevor held her tight.  "Come on. Let's go.  She's not going anywhere," he said as he herded Jordana toward the door.

"Yes, just leave me here. Run off with your lover. Let them kill me!"  Christina screamed.

Jordana shoved Trevor away, trying to turn back.  "You're already dead," she snarled.  Her stomach cramped and she swallowed back the bile, then bit down on the truth, spitting it out. "You killed yourself.  Just like the rest of us."

Trevor grabbed her arm and drug her resisting body out of the room.  He slammed her up against the wall and stood there, staring into her eyes. "Jordana. Look at me." When she didn't he ordered her. "Look at me!"

She stared up at him, her mouth twisting.  She panted, struggling to breath through the sobs, shaking and couldn't speak.

He wrapped her in his arms and for once his magic did what he wanted it to do, and they were in his room. He didn't say anything, he just held her, ignoring her attempts to push him away.

She sobbed, her face buried against his neck.

Outside a dragon screamed, then screamed again, closer.

"Shhh," Trevor said holding her. "I'm here. And so is Tarn.  And neither of us is letting go."

She shook her head, hiccuping.  Of course he would.  He was a cop and she was a killer, just like Christina said.

His hand stroked her back, his lips kissed the top of her head. "She isn't who you thought. Never has been if she could do that to you."

She sniffed hard, her nose clogged.  "I need a kleenex, she said," lifting her head.

Being the old fashioned sort he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her. It was white and spotless and had his initials on it.  He was afraid to say more, so he just waited.

She blew her nose then started to hand it back to him.  "Oh," she said, blushing.  "Sorry.  You probably don't want it now."  Like me, her mind added.

He took it from her. "You aren't her. You aren't like her at all."

Breaking something would help, but not much.  She wiped her cheeks forcing herself to meet his eyes.  "The difference between her and I, the only difference, is who cuts the check."

"You would never have treated a friend like she just treated you," he replied. "She wanted to hurt you. To make you feel alone and unloved and hopeless. Don't let her do that."

"Trevor..." She stopped, not knowing what she wanted to say, too confused to sort it out.  So she verbalized the only fact she had. "Stephen will kill her."

"Yes, I know," he replied.

"Will he find out why first?"  God.  Did she really want to know?

"If he can. I wouldn't waste the time."

"At least nine people are dead, probably more.  I helped torture one of them to find out what he knew to save her if she was still alive.  I don't know how many others were injured in the bombing in Poland, or the drive by in Paris.  Or how many people are hurt, their lives a mess, because of all this."

"And I'd have killed her without a thought for all that because of what she just did to you," he replied quietly.

"Oh god, Trevor," she whispered, swiping her palms across her cheeks, the pain of it an acid burn in her chest.  "She was my friend.  I thought...I thought...she was so caring, so good to people, she loved them.  I never understood how...how someone like her would even want to be...to be around someone like me."

He combed the hair off her face and then used his hand to lift her chin so she could meet his eyes.  "I can't make that ache go away. I can only say I know it too."

It was there, deep in the sky blue, as blue as a tropical sky.  She caught her breath on a sob and nodded.  "May I have the handkerchief again, please?"

He handed it back to her.  He didn't know what to say, wasn't sure what to do. Afraid he'd make a mistake, afraid to push her, but wanting to kiss her until the hurt went away.

She mopped her face again and tried to smile.  "Thank you."  She meant for a lot of things, but it was too late for all that now.

"You should rest.  I should get back down there."   There was much more he wanted to say but now seemed like the wrong time.  She was grieving for her lost friend.

"Yeah.  Or at least wash my face."  She stepped back distancing herself, saving him from having to do it.  "I'll uh, I'll talk to you later."

"I'll be back as soon as I can.  You can stay here if you like. I'm sorry I didn't take us to your room. I just... I'm not very good at the magic stuff."

"It's ok.  Neither am I."  She couldn't stay in his room, but she didn't tell him that.  "I'm going to uh, wash my face and change.  I'm sure they're waiting for you.  I uh...I'm sorry I made a fool of myself."

"Jesus, Jordana, you were ... You handled it better than I would have. Wait for me, please. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"I uh...ok."

He bent down and kissed her, gently, carefully, because she felt so fragile and vulnerable he didn't dare crush her to his chest like he wanted to.

Her lips clung to his, savoring the warmth, the sweet flavor of him, for just a moment, before letting go.  Otherwise she'd have flung herself against him, begging him to hold her and not let go.  To hold on like he said he would.  "You have to go."

He wanted to stay so badly he could taste it. "I won't be long."

"It's ok.  I understand.  Really."  She touched his face, the stubble rasping her fingers as they traced his jaw.  "I'll be fine."

He nodded and hurried off, all the quicker to return.

"How is she?" Stephen asked when he reached the Ops Center.

"Not well. What are we doing with Christina?" Trevor's voice was terse, trying to distance himself from Stephen's apparent concern.

"Well Rimes wants her tried, which of course isn't going to happen."  Stephen sighed.  "Even if I burned out the power centers in her brain, the trial would be a circus.  So after they're done interrogating her, we're going to kill her."

Trevor nodded. It was the only thing they could do. More humane than locking her away. "Have they found the minister's body yet?"

"Yeah, about half an hour ago.  They're bringing it down off the mountain now."

"Fuck. I'd hoped... I'd hoped maybe she'd kept him alive. You're going to let Rachel come up with a story about what happened to him?" Trevor suddenly felt exhausted as well as depressed.

"She's told the prime minister of course, but the official version will be a virulent strain of salmonella in his case and anaphylactic shock for Duval.  The prime minister also sent his thanks, for catching the Assassin.  He'll put the word out to Interpol and MI5 that she's dead and they can close their cases."

"Too late for Duval or the Minister," Trevor replied. Too late to save Jordana from that ordeal as well, but he didn't say that aloud.

"Laz and Paul have this under control.  Why don't you get some rest?" Stephen said.  "We can talk about damage control tomorrow."

They both knew rest wasn't what he wanted.  Trevor nodded and turned on his heel. It was all he could do not to run. He knocked before he entered his rooms. She wasn't there. He walked down to her rooms, his heart pounding in his throat. He knocked.

It took her a minute to get there, her face still wet, dressed in a teeshirt that hung to her knees.  "Trevor?"

He stepped into the room and pulled her into his arms. "I was afraid you'd be gone."

She stared at him.  "I told you I'd be here.  Well there.  I was going back.  I just wanted to change."

He laughed slightly hysterically. "Yes, so you did." He buried his face in her hair, taking a deep breath of the scent of her.

She closed her eyes, tightening her arms around him.  "Make love to me Trevor.  Please?"

He captured her lips as he picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.  When he set her down there and moved to join her he said, "Then, we have to talk."

"No, not now, not tonight."  She kissed him.  "Tomorrow.  Tonight, I don't want to think.  I just want to feel."

She slipped out of bed in the pre-light of dawn, all her years as spy, assassin and hunter working to keep from waking him.  If he woke, he'd want to talk and she couldn't.

She doesn't kill people.

You do.

I'm not a good person.

She gripped the door into the bathroom, her stomach roiling.  I'm not a good person.  I've never been a good person.  Trevor was a good person.  He deserved better than her.  She almost doubled over at the thought of him with someone else.  Jordana closed her eyes tight, willing Trevor and what he meant to her into a walled off place in her mind.  Later, when she finished what she needed to do and left, he'd be there and she could slip into that place with him and remember.  The memories would be enough.

Now she needed to act.  So she clothed herself with a thought and zapped herself to where they were holding Christina.  The window into the cell showed no lights on inside.  Lev and Laz played cribbage at a desk not to far away.

I'm not a good person.  I kill people.

Laz looked up when she appeared then pegged his points before speaking.  "You're up early, sunshine."

"I need to see her.  Is she sleeping?"

"Faking last we looked.  She's having a hard time grasping her situation."

"Tire Trev out did you?" Lev asked, as he got up to open the room for her. No one had said Christina couldn't have visitors.

"Wait," she said.  For what?  How could she explain?  Did it matter? She was the one who'd taught Christina to kill.  Laying there in bed next to Trevor, listening to the regular huff of his breathing, the sound almost but not quite a snore, she'd tried to reason out what happened.  She couldn't.  But she'd come to a conclusion she couldn't get around.  She was responsible for Christina.  To lay that on Stephen or anyone else wasn't something she could do.

Lev stood by the door, then leaned against it when she'd said to wait.  He just watched her, considering her expression. "You okay?"

She nodded.  She looked from Lev to Laz.  "She's my responsibility."

"Shiksa, you've been hanging out with Trev too much. That's always his line.  Often for stuff that ain't."

"I taught her to kill."

Lev glanced over at Laz, then scratched his stubbly chin. "I doubt that, Jordana. You might have given her a few pointers, but that one, she chose it for herself."

Christina, hearing the voices, sat up.

Jordana licked her lips, surreptitiously wiping her palms on the seat of her jeans.  "Has she...has she said anything?"

"Not by choice," Lev replied, leaving it go at that.

"I need to know," she said, looking at them both.

"They had an Awakened in here. She really didn't have to say much," Lev replied.  "She did ask to see you again."

"Jordana?" Christina called out. "Is that you?"

Jordana wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes squeezing shut.  Her friend Christina.  One of only a few friends.  I'm not a good person.  I kill people.  "Then they've gotten what they wanted?"

"I'd think so. Laz?" Lev asked.

Laz leaned back in his chair, his hands folded behind his head, his legs stretched out.  He took his time, not hiding the fact that he was weighing his words and something else as well.  "It's my job, honey."

I'm not a good person.  I kill people. Jordana shook her head.  "My responsibility."  Her voice was barely audible.

"Yeah, they've gotten what they wanted.  So, I'll be going back to Aaru today.  Not even going to take time to surf.  Which is a kick in the ass, isn't it?  Picking a woman over a wave?"

Christina had moved to lean against the inside of the door. "Jordana," she said and thought at her friend. "Help me."

Lev closed his eyes.  When he opened them he said, "I'm gonna go for some coffee. Want some Laz?"

"Naw.  I'm good."  He stood and stretched.  "Toss me the keys, though."

Lev met Jordana's eyes long enough for her to know he knew full well what she was up to.  Then he tossed the keys to Laz and strolled out.

Laz spun the key ring on his finger.  Then he dug his other hand in his pocket and pulled out another ring.  He tossed them to her.

Jordana caught them reflexively.

"Just lock up when you leave and make sure the security's set."  Then he unlocked the door to Christina's cell.  "And on second thought, I think I'll get some coffee too."  He brushed a kiss against her cheek.  "Be careful honey.  Don't run too long."

Jordana gulped, pain and something else filling her.  "Thank you," she whispered.  When he was gone she stepped into the cell with Christina.

Christina backed up as the cell door opened. Tears sprang to her eyes. "Help me, Jordana. I can't stand what they're doing to me. You've got to help me!"  She fell to her knees, sobbing.

Jordana leaned back against the cell door. "Tell me why."

"Why what?" Christina asked as her sobs died away.  "Why I kill? Why I want you to help me get out of here?  Why the sky is blue?"

"All this.  It was just a game, wasn't it?"

"Of course!"  Christina replied, a slightly hysterical lilt to the laughter she wasn't suppressing. "Pretend you're someone else, creep into their skin, sit with patience and wait.  So easy!  They don't know!  They expect things, you see. Give them what they expect and you can be anyone!  And then, a quick kill. Adrenaline rush, satisfaction. Fulfillment."

Jordana's mind recoiled.  She's insane, some essential part of her broken.  And I never saw it, never paid attention enough to notice or care.  Jordana wept inside, for both of them.  She forced her back from the door and crossed the small room until she was standing in front of Christina, close enough to touch her.  "I'm sorry, Christina."  It was all she could say as her mind engulfed Christina's, gifting her with unconsciousness before she crushed her brain.

She laid her friend on the bed, fingers smoothing the eyelids down, cleaning away the thin trickle of blood from her nose, vanishing the mess of the loss of bowel and bladder control.  Then she folded her hands over her abdomen, interlacing the fingers, giving Christina a look of repose.  "I'll pray for you," she whispered and then vanished.

A shaft of sunlight hit Trevor's eyes and he woke squinting. Motes danced in front of his eyes and he grunted a complaint. He reached over to the far side of the bed without looking. He found an empty pillow.  He sat up, and found the rest of the bed as empty.

He checked his watch.  He'd overslept and should have been at his desk an hour ago. He padded to the bathroom and saw no sign of Jordana having had a shower before she left.  He checked the back of the bathroom door. Her robe was there. Her makeup and the rest of her things sat on the vanity.

He ruthlessly stuffed his fears back inside, and went back to his own room to shave and shower. He dressed like he always did for the Refuge and stopped at the cafeteria for his usual cuppa.

He didn't like the feel of the place as he headed for the Ops Room. It was quiet. Too quiet. He stopped at the door and saw Stephen and Cal talking. The monitor on the cell where they were keeping Christina was off.

He looked a question at Stephen, and pretended his heart wasn't racing.

Stephen nodded and finished his conversation with Cal before approaching Trevor.  "My office or yours?"

"Whichever is easier," Trevor replied, sounding normal, calm, unflustered. And it was all lies.

"Yours is closer."

Trevor nodded and led the way. He dropped into his chair, having ignored his minion, and waited for Stephen to sit and say what he was afraid he didn't want to hear.

"Laszlo and Lev were keeping an eye on her.  Jordana showed up, early, just before dawn and asked to see her.  They left Jordana with her and went to get some coffee.  When they got back Jordana was gone and Christina was dead."  He didn't add that the body, when they found it, looked like it was already laid out for a viewing prior to the burial.

"Right," Trevor said, his face showing nothing. "And the conference?  Everything all right there?"

"Right as rain."

"Laz gone?"

"He and they others left about an hour ago.  Lev went to join Dia at her father's.  I don't know when they're going back."

"Right then. I've got a few things to take are of, unless you have more?" Trevor asked.

Stephen sighed and stood up.  "If you need a leave of absence, it's yours.  If you try to quit I'll kill you.  If you need a friend...well, I'll leave that to you.  I've never thought you were stupid."

Trevor stood with him. "I'll take the leave of absence but don't expect me back anytime soon."

"Hand off to Cassidy and tell him we'll figure the rest out later.  When you find her, tell her I'd like to talk to her."

Trevor held out his hand to Stephen. "Thanks for everything."

Stephen grasped it.  "My pleasure."

Trevor watched Stephen walk out of his office and sat back down.  He stared at the wall for some time. Well, it wasn't like he didn't see it coming. Ass. He should have made her talk last night. His fault. He knew and let it slide because sex was easier than talk.

He turned then and sent critical files and notes to Cassidy's terminal. He gathered up the paperwork Cassidy would need and left it all piled on his desk.  He looked around the office to see if there was something he'd need. He hesitated then took the automatic he kept in his office safe, extra clips and the holster and walked out of the room. To his minion he said, "See Cassidy gets the paperwork on my desk. Then take the rest of the day off."  He didn't wait for an answer.

He went straight to his room, dug out his favorite backpack, threw in a couple of changes of clothes, a wad of cash, and a few other essentials.  He stuck the automatic, the extra clips and the holster in it and zipped it up.  He walked out without a backward glance.

He knew something the others didn't. He could find her. Easily. The question was, was that what he wanted to do.  She'd run. It was what she did when she felt vulnerable. He got that. He also got he was part of the problem.   Even so...

He stood in the open field in front of the House and called to Tarn, hoping the dragon would hear him.  Moments later he was eyeball to eyeball with the dragon.

"She's gone for good," Trevor told Tarn.

Tarn rumbled, all irritated male dragon guarding his human.  "What do you want with her?"

"I want you to take me to her, so I can speak with her. Then I'll leave. And I want you to stay with her, regardless of what she says."

"Why did she leave you?"

"She thinks she's bad. She thinks I won't understand her. And because I'm an idiot."

Tarn rumbled again, an altogether different sound, before lowering a wing for Trevor.

"Thanks," Trevor said. "You can crush me to death if I hurt her. I won't mind."

"She hurts herself.  It's all she knows."

"Yeah well, you'll help her understand not to do that," Trevor replied, as he climbed aboard.

"And you won't?" he asked on laugh and then leapt into the sky.

"Apparently not," Trevor muttered far more to himself than to Tarn.

"Foolish human," Tarn said, warm amusement lacing the words.  When he was high enough, he opened a portal, rather than taking the long way.  A few moments later they re-emerged, high over the Pacific ocean, the tropical blue of the sky a mate to Trevor's eyes.  Tarn circled down almost lazily before settling on the beach of the cove below Laz's house.  "You will tell her I'm here?"

"I will tell her you're here," Trevor agreed and hiked his backpack further up on his shoulder and trudged up the beach to toward the house.  He was surprised when she didn't step out of the house to meet him. He'd expected her to tell him to go away, to demand he did.

He stepped up onto the porch and still she didn't show. He pushed the door in gently. Nothing looked wrong. He used his magic to check for any security traps and so far as he could tell no alarms were set. He walked in.

He found her lying on the bed, fully dressed. When he saw her chest move with her breathing he let out the breath he'd been holding in.

He dropped the backpack with a thump onto the wooden floor.

She bolted upright, a Luger materializing in her hand, aimed at his sternum.  Her eyes opened wide when she recognized him.

"Hullo, Jordana. I just wanted to say a thing or two to you."

She pushed the gun under the pillow and swung around to face him.

"I know what you are. I don't care. I'm in love with you. But that's damn useless if you don't love yourself enough to love someone back. So. I just came to say, I'll be around. I'm sure you can find me when you want me. Oh, and Tarn's here. He's staying. Since you don't want me around, I'm leaving."

Her mouth fell open, instinctively protesting the one important part of his speech.  "Of course I want you around," she snapped.

"On your terms. With you having the right to run whenever you need to and me waking up to an empty bed. Not good enough."  His eyes shot blue fire as he said it, his body tense.

"Right, of course.  How could I forget that?  On my terms.  Not that we've ever had a serious conversation that didn't involve paid assassins and associated details."  She stood.  "I need coffee.  You want some?

"In that I expect there is no decent tea to be had here, coffee will work."

"I dunno.  Laz has a hell of a lot of stuff in his freezer."  With that, she brushed past him, heading for the kitchen.  She waved a hand.  "It's over there if you want to look."  She pulled coffee out of the refrigerator and got a pot started.

He didn't bother. He leaned back against the sink, feet crossed, arms crossed on his chest, and waited.

She kept silent until the coffee was ready and she'd poured them both a cup.  "What do you want from me?" she asked when she'd taken her seat again.

"I want you to be in the bed with me at night. Anything else is negotiable."

"Even when ten minutes previous I've killed someone?  Or worse?"

"Yes."

Until that moment she'd never known what lightheaded felt like.  Nor imagined what it really felt like to feel the blood drain from her head.

He moved to take the cup she'd poured for him then stepped back to stand leaning against the sink. "As I said, it doesn't matter."

That cleared her head in a heartbeat.  "How can it not matter?"

He shrugged.

"You're a cop Trevor.  I spend my life with one foot on either side of the line.  I wasn't living in Katowice because of an unquenchable yen for borscht and latkes.  A lot of people want me dead.  How can I love you and drag you into that?"

"Cop. That one word defines me?  That's all I am, a cop?"

"No.  How could it?  But it says things about what's important to you, what really matters.  And even if you could convince me that all those things I've done don't matter there's still the minor problem of the fact that I have no life.  Not in any meaningful sense at the moment.  So regardless of anything else, including my supposed inability to love myself and its correlates, I don't have much more to give you than sex and the kind of insane being in love caring that makes me crazy and confused."

"I know. You've let what you do define you. It's time you defined yourself. It's time to move on. Find another way to live. Not hiding. Not running whenever someone gets too close.  I want to be part of your new life. But you've got to figure out what that is before I can figure out how to fit into it. If you'll even want me then."

"I don't think I'll ever not want you.  I don't think I've ever loved before, not like this, where..."  She hesitated, stumbling on the cusp of something she didn't understand.  "Where your happiness matters more than anything."

He was silent for some time, just regarding her. Keeping his distance, knowing full well if he touched her talking would cease.  "I need you to be happy. I need you to trust me. I need you to trust yourself as much as I trust you.  Everything else will fall into place if we can get there."

She closed her eyes, pressing hard against tears.  "I need time, Trevor."

"We've got plenty of time. No hurry."

"What are you going to do?"

"I've got a little place I'll go visit. Try to clear my head."

The silence fell, stretched until she quivered with it.  "I don't know what to say to you.  I can't stand the thought of hurting you or of you discovering one day that what I am, what I've done does matter."

He walked over to her then and pulled her up into his arms. "See, you've got to learn to trust me."  He paused. "Nothing is guaranteed. Well, save one thing. If you don't risk anything, you risk even more."

She leaned her head against his chest, breathing him in deep.  Accepting.  "How will I find you?"

He laughed. "You're a spy. Of course you could just call my cell phone."

"Of course.  Stupid me."

"I've said that a time or two.  Oh, would you ask Tarn to send a message to Victoria?  Tell her I'll send for her if I plan to be gone very long."

She nodded.  "Please, Trevor, take care of yourself."

"The trick is to avoid Stephen.  He threatened to kill me if I quit."

"Hot air."

He laughed softly. "I know. I love you. Call me if you need me."

"I will."  She touched a finger to his lips, smoothing it over them.  "I love you."

He took a step back from her, grabbed his backpack and disappeared, saying as he went, "Stephen asks that you call him."

She stared at the spot for a long time before going out to find Tarn.