Melly watched Marc go, her finger still tracing the bowl. "He doesn't look like he feels well, does he?"

Reno barely hid his grin in time. "Uhm, well, he's been busy so maybe he's just tired."

Melly turned her attention to Reno. "He also seemed a bit unhappy about the housewarming present."

"Uhm, well, I think he was surprised. I mean it's an amazing gift and all." It was time to change the subject. "So all done out at the site?"

She nodded. "Charlie can handle what's left and there are things I need to work on that I haven't been."

Was she heading back Home? "Your job?"

Melly grinned mischievously. "I guess you could call it that. I do a lot of, well sort of like what Marc asked me to do…dig up information, research things. Mostly I solve puzzles of various sorts. I like it so much though, it's hard to think of it as work."

"Lucky you. I got to go grocery shopping yesterday. Highlight of my day," Reno replied glumly.

Melly fought back a smile. "Well," she said, turning toward the door Marc had gone out of, "Marc is a sort of puzzle. You have to decipher him every day."

"Tell me about it. So, you're going back Home?"

'Nope, I can work most anywhere there's a connection to the 'net or a good library available and Stephen wants me to stick around for a bit."

"Oh, that's gr... That's nice," Reno replied. He was doing his best not to appear too happy about that.

"I think so too." She grinned at him, before saying, hesitantly and somewhat earnestly, "Look, the reason I came by...I was wondering...and please be honest...I have two tickets to the last night of the proms at Albert Hall and I'd really like it if you'd go with me...if you'd like to, as...ah...my date."

"Oh my God. How did you ever get tickets! They're sold out years in advance! Wow. I'd love to go.... Uhm, what was that last?"

"As, ah, my date," she repeated.

"Yeah?" he asked

"Yeah."

"Okay. Sure. I'd love to."

"Oh that's great! I'm really glad. I was really hoping you'd say yes." She beamed at him, clearly meaning it.

He looked down at his desk. "I was, uhm, I was kind of thinking of asking you out, but, you know, well, everyone seemed to think that, uhm. I'm really glad you asked me."

"Well, how about this? If I don't break your foot again, you can ask me next time...assuming you still want to...does that work?" She was still beaming at him.

"Ah, I'm not worried about my foot. And it's a deal," he held out his hand to her. "I won't spit in it first either."

She looked at it, then him, asking as she grasped it, "No? Somehow I feel deprived."

"Don't," he said earnestly. "It's a filthy boarding school habit."

Marc made it to his aerie about an hour before Dinah was due to arrive. He looked around after Jordon had feng shui'd it and Reno had supplied it and felt as if it belonged to someone other than him. Between Bella's death and the argument with Tabitha, not to mention what he'd discovered about Tabitha, he was hardly in the proper frame of mind for a seduction scene. But it was far too late to call it off.

He stood in the shower letting the water hit him and hoping somehow it would clear his head of the events of the last two days. It didn't.

He dressed as he usually did for dinner with a date. A tuxedo. But he left off the tie and left his collar open. He had no idea if she would expect him to have dressed. Yet one more thing he'd forgotten to make clear.

He walked into the dining room and frowned. On the table already set up for him, were the bowls, the flowers floating in them, their heady fragrance permeating the room. He'd had no intention of setting them out. Yet here they were. Damn Reno, Mr. Efficiency.

The doorbell rang and he thought of dismissing them with a wave of his hand, but hesitated. Instead he turned to go to answer the door. She'd chosen her favorite color, a soft, vibrant yellow, for courage. The dress fell, draping simply to her calves, the light cotton floating as she walked. It was set off her tan and made the copper in her, brushed until it gleamed, more vivid. It also made her sea storm colored eyes seem green. She'd looked at herself in the mirror in her room for a long time before deciding it would work. He hadn't said and she didn't read minds, but it was some combination of casual and dressy that made the price she'd paid for it a bargain. She was looking around at the setting he'd chosen for the house when he opened the door, causing her to whirl around to face him, blushing slightly. "Hi." She said, feeling slightly awkward.

He looked tired, dark circles under his eyes, tense lines around his mouth. But when he saw her his lips seemed to try to smile. "Hullo. Please come in." He held the door for her as she swept past him.

She glanced around the house he'd designed, thinking it reflected him. Nothing wasted, all utility and almost Spartan in its simplicity. Well, maybe it didn't reflect him. He was far from simple. Too complex to understand easily.

The sunken living room had a glorious view and stuffed leather seating, with an area rug to soften the look. otherwise the flooring was gleaming dark wood, set off by the pale grey-blue walls.

"Shall we have a drink on the deck?" he asked.

"Please. It's lovely here. What you've done, it suits you I think." He put a hand on her waist and steered her toward the deck. It was furnished now and he had a drinks cabinet sitting ready for them. "I'm afraid it's mostly Jordon. I've hardly had time to think of the place. But I'm pleased you like it anyway.

"What would you like to drink? I've wine, or .. well, whatever you'd like."

She was scanning the view, one she was familiar with but it seemed different to her, so she answered him without thinking, "Vodka, on the rocks if I might and a twist if you have it."

He mixed her drink and brought it to her. His own drink was darker. As he handed her the vodka, he said, "I never asked you if you ... I've got lobster tail for dinner. I hope that's all right."

He seemed a bit awkward which surprised her.

"It sounds wonderful." She tilted her head slightly, and searched his face. "If I had to guess, I'd be inclined to say you've not had a great day. We can just sit for a while if you want, and relax."

He smiled at her. "That would be nice. And you're right. I've had a day that has provided me with nothing but frustrating questions and no useful solutions. I hope yours was better. That's a lovely dress, by the way. Please, sit."

They sat side by side at the one corner of the deck that gave the widest view. He sighed as he sat down, and some of the tension in him seemed to ease. She smiled at him, suggesting "Why don't you take some number of minutes, determined by you, free of having to worry about sustaining a conversation while I admire the view in silent and dignified envy?"

She was gratified to have made him laugh. "You live at the seashore I understand. I envy you that." Then he put his head back to rest against the back of the chair.

She could tell he was watching her as she sat there sipping her drink and admiring the view. She waited, comfortable with the silence, finding herself relaxing also, in no hurry to do anything else except enjoy the view and the company. 

"For awhile I lived by the sea. Fishing was a passion at the time. There were these giant creatures who were old and wise and thought themselves safe from men. I was determined to catch them, one at a time. But I had my rules and they had theirs. I used the finest fishing line I could find, and I was not allowed to use my powers. They returned the favor by beating me at the game most of the time. But once I got the grandfather of them all on my line. I spent two solid days and nights playing him, trying to land him. I still remember those days, so very long ago.." his voice drifted off.

"Did you land him? And if you did, what did you do with him?" she asked, her voice light. "Thank him for the pleasure before letting him loose?"

"No, I did not land him. I was within a heartbeat of doing so when he broke the line and swam free. Oddly enough I was happy that he won."

"I was never into fishing myself. The thing about the ocean for me has always been its contradictions and it's patience. I can watch it for hours...the gulf stream comes in close enough to shore where I live that it brings the dolphins and the whales near enough to watch...maybe, in another life, I'll come back as one of them.”

“An odd bit of wish-fulfillment" he replied with a smile. "But it makes sense that you might like that. Are you always so ... calm and unruffled on first dates?'

It made her laugh out loud. "I've been using all of the relaxation techniques I know and doing deep breathing exercises...all day."

"Ah, well then. Perhaps I should let you murder the lobsters, then. I might be tempted to zap them dead instead of doing it properly.”

“I'm not sure my book on zen has a chapter devoted to the correct visualization techniques for boiling crustaceans alive, but I'm willing to improvise if you like. I'll just close my eyes and you can worry about my aim as I let go of them."

He laughed, finished his drink and stood, holding out his hand for her to take for help getting up. She took his hand and he pulled her easily up. And into his arms.

"I'm sorry," he immediately said. "A bit too much force applied. Obviously my visualization techniques leave a lot to be desired."

"Or," she smiled, "are worthy of study."

He smiled down at her and let her go, leading her into the kitchen. A large pot was simmering on the stove and the box of lobsters sitting beside it. 

"There's salad already made up in the refrigerator, and some fresh French bread. And the lobsters. Will that be enough, do you think?" he asked, as he opened the box that held the lobsters.

"It'll be plenty, I'm sure. What do you want me to do? Kill critters or set the table or something else?"

"I cheat. I'm using my PK to put the critters in the pot to spare my -or your - fingers. I cheat on the shell too, although I'll be happy to let you struggle with your shell if you like."

"The table is set so really all we need to do is get the lobsters in, and take the bread and the salad and the clarified butter to the table. Oh, and open the wine.'

She nodded and made an executive decision. She took the box of lobsters and turned the heat up under the water, waiting for it to return to a rolling boil. "I'll do this while you open the wine. I'm no good with a cork screw." Then she began, calmly, dropping live lobsters into the pot. 

He watched her for a moment then went to get the wine. After he'd opened it, he handed it to her and got the salad and the rest of the things out of the refrigerator and led her into the dining room. It too had a view. After he set everything down he held her chair for her.

She had no eyes for the view. The only thing she saw, stunned by the absolute beauty of them, were the bowls and their flowers, the scent delicate now, and tantalizing, wreathing the room in delight. "They're lovely," she breathed, awed by them, as she sat. "I've never seen anything so exquisite or exquisitely paired."

"Hmmm," was his only vocal reply as he poured her wine. 

"Where did you find such things?" she asked.

"They were a gift," he replied with a note in his voice that told her not to ask any more.

Then the lobsters were done and with a thought Marc whisked off the shells for both of them, so the usually messy task of eating whole lobsters was considerably easier. They ate and drank to their fill. As the sun set Marc used his abilities to light some candles and they sat back content and full, drinking the last of the wine.

'Thank you," she said, leaning back in her chair to study him through the candlelight. "You serve a wonderful dinner. I take it you need no help with the dishes?"

 He smiled. "No. Shall we adjourn to the deck?"

She nodded in agreement and they walked out to the cool evening together. He leaned on the railing looking out at the rapidly darkening sky.

"Dinah..."

"Yes?" she said, coming up to stand beside him.

He turned to look at her. "I.. I don't think this is a very good idea."

She stayed still, stifling the impulse to move away from him before it reached her muscles. "I see. And that would be because...?”

“This would be because you deserve far more than I could ever give you," he replied meeting her eyes in the fading light.

"Now what am I suppose to say to that? That you deserve far more than I can ever give you? Or that the question is moot because to my knowledge I've not asked you for a thing, nor you me. So I wonder...is this because of what we do or don't have to give or something else?"

 He was silent for a time then said, "It's because you don't strike me as the sort of woman who wants an affair. And that is all I can offer you. I couldn't help but hurt you."

She could feel herself getting angry at him, for his stupidity and his blindness. "So it's my vulnerabilities that are at issue? Or yours? But let's ignore that for a moment. And the fact that I might be supposed to be able to manage them myself and make decisions about them."

"Dinah, I..."

She cut him off, savagely. "I never took you for a fool. If you never believe another bloody word I say, then believe this...whatever the hell you decide to do about it. It's not my vulnerabilities that I'm afraid of or the price I might pay because of them. It's being cheated, by me or someone else, of the possibility of knowing and caring about another that facing them and dealing with them brings into my life." She started to say something else and cut it off, turning on her heel to leave.

He reached out and caught her arm. "Dinah," he said and paused. Then he kissed her.

"What?" she asked, still furious at him, when he finally let her breathe again, a state at odds with the grip she had on his arms, one she was having trouble loosening.

"I... " he said, then their lips met again. She was less furious when she surfaced the second time but not completely ready to let him off the hook. He was going to have to make it plain. "I can either call you a jack-ass again and leave or you can ask me to spend the night and then do what you just again...many times...improvising at will."

"You're sure?" he asked.

"Jack-ass," she hissed.

He swept her up into his arms and zapped them into the bedroom. He lifted his head, standing next to the bed and considered her for a moment, reflecting on the power of her temper. Then he grinned and tossed her on the bed, watching her bounce while he stripped off his shirt. He was next to her when she came up sputtering for the third time, laughing against her mouth, watching a different kind of something ignite in her eyes.

"Ouch!" she said as he struggled with her zipper.

"Well, hold still and stop squirming," he ordered.

She tried to but his fingers made her giggle and then tickled. "Don't!" she cried.

"I give up," he muttered, with a mouthful of hair. Hers. He zapped her clothes off. Once he got her hair out of his mouth he added, "Sorry about the dress."

"One way or another," she promised him, pulling him down, "I promise, you'll pay for it before morning."

He wasn't paying attention to her words, he was much more interested in the view and the discovery, slowly sinking in, that she was in his bed, close to naked, wholly at his mercy and ticklish.

She saw the look in his eye and tried to make a run for it but he caught her ankle and dragged her back into bed. "No!" she screamed.

"Oh yes," he said.

"Don't you dare," she threatened.

He dared. He dared, laughing with her, keeping her squirming on the bed until she was breathless, begging him to stop, willing to do almost anything he wanted, he was sure, if only he would. Then he kissed her again, not stopping until she was a different kind of breathless and he was sure it was safe to come up for air. Their eyes met and suddenly it was a little more serious, as hands went exploring and what few clothes were left on them disappeared.

"Don't touch there, it tickles," she said.

Naturally he did.

"No, don't!" she cried. "Why aren't you..."

"Ticklish? Nope. Sorry," he said.

She pouted.

He sighed. "All right. I'll let you have top."

"Let me? Let me!"

Wrestling for leverage ensued. She swore he let her win. Her look, he saw, was speculative. Her intent, he was positive, even if fell, would suit him just fine. She wriggled a bit, moving his attention south, where she kept it, with distractions in other directions until he couldn't stand it.

He drew her up, struggling, and this time he didn't let her win. He rolled her off of him and trapped her half under him, her hands above her head, keeping them there with one of his, waiting.

"Jack-ass," she hissed.

"Not this time," he said. "This time I know exactly what I'm doing." And he proved it, discovering in the process that it might be possible that there were times when it was better to be foolish than wise.

Stephen had risen early, leaving Doni to sleep the sleep of the sated. He was hoping to avoid the conversation he knew she wanted with him for as long as possible. He'd already successfully staved it off for twenty-four hours. Today, he was planning on sending Jordon over as soon as he could to immerse her in decorating and nesting.

The house was the result of years of conversations they'd had about what they wanted. He'd had the plans drawn up, incorporating it all, as a surprise just before she'd disappeared. He'd never had a chance to show them to her, or take her out here to the spot he'd had in mind for it.

He'd picked a wooded area as isolated from the main areas of the Refuge as he could find while still meeting his requirements. The major one had been solved when he'd seen the year round creek now behind it that included a waterfall of modest proportions, maybe twenty feet total in three tiers, ending in a deep pool before becoming a creek again. It was fed year round from the run off from the higher ridges. From the back of the house a series of decks dropped in terraces towards the pool, where he'd put a much larger deck and dropped steps partway into the pool.

The house was two-story, the rear wall mostly sliding glass doors that opened into the kitchen, dining room and living room. He'd added a study for himself, so he could work from home and four bedrooms upstairs. The rest was in her hands and if he was lucky, it would keep her busy for the next couple of days while he took care of a few things without worrying about her worrying about him.

Such were his thoughts as he drove his battered jeep to his office. He grabbed coffee from the dining room and detoured to Cassidy's office looking for Jordon. Jordon was at his desk, working on cross referencing something when Stephen came in.

"Good morning, Jordon. Hard at work I see?"

Jordon grinned, "Of course, sir. Mr. Cassidy wouldn't have it any other way, as I'm sure you know."

"Really? Well I'm hoping he'll lend you to me for a few days."

"To decorate your house? He mentioned that if you asked it was ok. Sort of a housewarming present he called it."

"Thanks Jordon. I appreciate it…as long as you don't mind doing it."

"No sir, it would be my pleasure, sir. My housewarming gift as well."

Stephen laughed. "Well, Doni's out there and I imagine if you head over in a few hours she'll be up and ready to start. Is Cassidy busy or can he spare me a few minutes?"

"Feel free sir. He just sat down a few minutes ago so you probably won't be interrupting anything."

Stephen knocked on the open door lightly. "Good morning. Got a minute or two to spare?"

Cassidy grinned and gestured towards a chair. "Sure, boss. Have a seat."

Stephen closed the door, laughing. "Don't start. Only Tommy gets away with it and that's because I'm afraid he'd quit if I asked him to stop." He took a seat across from Cassidy and sipped his coffee.

"I don't think Tommy would, but I understand your trepidation. So, how's Doni?"

"She's fine. She's getting ready to decorate the house. Thank you for anticipating my plans and telling Jordon it was OK for him to help. You have no idea what a help that will be."

"Sure. Things are pretty quiet right now. So what else can I do for you this morning?"

"Actually, I came to see if there was anything you needed me for. We never got a chance to talk yesterday, unfortunately; or after the business with Duncan Crawford."

Cassidy shook his head. "No, I don't think so. The last batch of new personnel came in alright yesterday, so we're fully staffed except for some healers and empaths I'm expecting in the next day or two. Ms Dalton left yesterday, but I think we'll be OK for a few days."

"Baylee left?" Stephen asked, startled.

"Yes. She went Home for some additional training Marc arranged for her. And Trevor and I are moving ahead with the security Marc wants. It's going to be a sweet system. The man certainly knows his stuff."

"Well, it sounds like you've everything under control then and I can leave you in peace. You know where to find me if you need anything."

Stephen headed to his own office after discovering that Marc hadn't arrived yet. He motioned Tommy back into his seat as he entered. "Do you think you could track down Laszlo, Melly and Dinah for me? I'd like to see them."

Tommy nodded, making a note on the blotter to himself. "Anything else?"

"Just some coffee if you wouldn't mind."

"Sure, boss, right away."

"Thanks, Tommy."

Stephen grinned at him and headed for his desk. Poor Tommy, he thought. This was not going to be an easy day for him and he'd have to find a way to make it up to him. After, of course, he let him know…since he was positive about it…that he knew Marc had asked him to keep an eye on him and it was ok to do it.

He picked up the phone and called Baz's house, reaching Johnston and invited himself and three friends to brunch. Then he called Clem and went over the details for the funeral and the wake at Hoolihan's before turning the conversation to other things. "Clem, I need you to have your folks start looking for Lily's children. God knows I've no idea where to start, but…"

When he hung up, Tommy had returned with coffee and the news that Laz and the others were on their way. He nodded and went to work while he waited on the never ending task of clearing his inbox, reflecting that it was less of a chore now that Cassidy had taken on the day to day operations. By the time they arrived he'd created an enormous pile of work for Tommy.

Stephen leaned back in his chair, an overstuffed piece of furniture that was not conducive to business while he waited for the others to settle themselves in Baz's library wondering what Jordon was doing to his study. What he'd done to his office had been nothing short of inspired, creating a lawyerly like space, with old wood and paneling, leather and table lamps. It was almost enough to make him want to spend more time in the office.

During lunch they had gotten the routine things out of the way. Now it was time to move onto new business.

He swallowed some of Georges coffee and set the cup down. Dinah was on the couch, positively glowing, much as she'd been when she walked into his office. It was the sort of glow he associated with Doni at certain times, a fact that he filed for further consideration as he cleared his throat, before speaking.

"There a couple things I think we need to get busy on, not the least of which is the search for Lily's children. As I told Clem this morning, I've no idea where to start or even if they're here or on Home or somewhere else I don't know about. You all will have to start with a cold trail and few clues…though I've arranged for Cal to take the photo's we have and see if he can't come up with something that is close to what they'd look like today. I'll get those to you as soon as I can."

He paused inviting questions with his silence and getting none went on.

"While we're doing that I want to move ahead with the plans for the Compound we discussed a couple of months ago. And I also want to focus on discovering just who is feeding information to who ever was behind what happened ten years ago and is presumably still hard at work….in addition, of course, to continuing our ongoing efforts in other directions."

After that they spent the next two hours or more on the nitty gritty details of implementing the search for the children along with the intelligence gathering required in other directions. When they'd finished Stephen concluded the meeting, saying, "I know all of this is going to be a lot and may impact your other obligations, but I'm convinced that things are moving towards some sort of crisis given the last few weeks. Also, after today, for the most part I'll be either confined to the Refuge or not allowed out alone unless I have to be, so it's going to come down to you four and Clem.

"You all know your own networks best so I'm not going to tell you how to do your jobs. But please, make sure you take every precaution, both in terms of safety and security. Cassidy has taken a lot of stuff off my hands so for now plan on reporting directly to me."

Tommy closed the door to Stephen's office and groaned out loud. He wasn't there. He'd been there and now he wasn't and he was going to have to tell Marc. He turned his reluctant feet in the direction of Marc's office, reflecting that he really wasn't cut out for this. He wanted to help keep Stephen safe, but he felt like a traitor. And, he wasn't positive, but he was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to tell Stephen what he was doing, which made it all that much worse.

"Hi, Tommy. What brings you down here with us lowly types? We were just about to walk down and see you." Reno asked him as he walked in the office. He was leaning back in his chair, chatting with Jordon who occupied the visitor's spot, a pile of papers in his lap.

Tommy grimaced. "I, uhm, need to see Marc, if he's here."

Reno raised an eyebrow and waved him towards the inner office. "He's in there. Sure you wanna do this? I can take a message in if you like."

Tommy shook his head, "No. He said I was to tell him personally."

"Tell him what personally?"

Tommy never got a chance to answer.

"That Stephen is off somewhere without protection," Marc said, coming out to join them. "Tommy, do you know where he went?"

Tommy kept his eyes glued to his shoes as he shook his head, feeling miserable. "He was in the office real early. He called Lord Sutcliffe when he got there. Before that he'd been talking with Mr. Cassidy. As soon as he got in he had me track down Laszlo, Ms Stewart and Ms McNeill, but I don't know what it was about. Now he's gone. Oh, and he called the Abbot, after he talked with Lord Sutcliffe. So, I think he's gone to see Lord Sutcliffe, but I don't know."

"Damn and blast the man," Marc muttered. "Thank you, Tommy. So all four of them disappeared from his office?"

"Yeah, I think so. I had to run out for a minute and when I got back they were all gone but I didn't know that until just now. The door was closed..."

"Where the hell is Trevor. Reno, find me Trevor," Marc muttered and hurried back into his office.

"So, wanna know who's car was at Marc's house this morning?" Reno whispered.

"Ms McNeill's," Tommy said, distracted. That's where she was coming back from when I found her this morning. Guys, I don't know if I'm going to be able to do this. I feel like a...a....a damn stool pigeon!"

"Dammit," Reno muttered, 'does everyone always know the gossip before me?"

Jordon was frowning at Tommy. "Why do you feel like a stool pigeon. Stephen was almost murdered. You might be the only person who can prevent that happening again."

"Yeah," Reno added. "Stephen isn't really into security and such. You know him. Distracted. Too busy for his own good."

"I wouldn't mind if he knew I was doing it. This is like I'm going behind his back. Then I told Marc to get Doni to talk to him. I'm gonna have to tell him." Tommy said, unhappily.

"Tommy, you did the right thing if it keeps him alive. Doni can probably get him to listen when the rest of us can't." Jordon said.

"Maybe. I dunno. I just don't think he's going to like it." Tommy sighed and looked up. "Hey, aren't you suppose to be finding Mr. St Cyr?"

"I know where he is," Reno replied. "He's with Cassidy." Jordon nodded agreement. "So, if you don't like doing this, tell Marc. If you don't I will."

"No, Reno, don't do that. I'll talk to Stephen. I mean, I know Marc and you guys are right. I just don't want to go behind his back, so if I tell him then I won't be." Tommy sighed, from somewhere around his ankles and then tried to change the subject again. "You guys were coming to see me? What about?"

"How do you look in a tuxedo?" Reno asked.

"Huh?" Tommy asked.

Jordon snorted. Delicately.

"We're supposed to find a spy, double-oh 8."

"Huh? I don't even have a tux. Did you find something?" Tommy was clearly not at his best.

"I checked the outgoing communications logs on those two days. There's one name, both times. Corbin Vortees."

"But he's been here forever, eight or nine years. You're sure?" Tommy was stunned.

Jordon nodded, holding out the logs. "See for yourself."

Tommy waved them away. "No, I believe you, it's him I can't believe. So what do we do now?"

"We need to set up surveillance on him. I bet we can get some cool gear from Trevor. We need proof."

"We could search his room," Jordon suggested. "Maybe he'd have some incriminating evidence hidden away."

"Oh, cool," Tommy said, cheering up rapidly. We can bug his room and all that kind of stuff. When do we start, guys?"

"Nothing like this minute," Reno said, as Trevor St Cyr came around the corner. He looked at the three conspirators and blinked.

"Wait," Tommy hissed. "Let him talk to Marc first."

Jordon stood up, saying, "Mr. Rogatien's waiting in his office for you. We aren't standing on ceremony here are we, Reno?"

"Nope, But, " he added to Trevor, "can we have a word when you and Marc have finished?"

Trevor raised an eyebrow. He had that same trick as Marc. "Sure." Then, with a backward glance at the three, he walked into Marc's office.

Jordon watched him close the door behind him before saying, "Reno you fix it up with St Cyr. I have to get back to work. Let me know what you work out."

"Yeah, me too," Tommy chimed in. "Who knows how long they'll be."

"Oh yeah, leave me with all the grunt work. For that I get the coolest gadgets!" Reno called out as they scuttled away.

 Trevor St Cyr knocked on Marc's door and entered at his muttered, "Come."

Marc was standing at the window, his jaw working rhythmically and not because he was chewing tobacco.

He turned then and seemed to pull himself together. "You have a plan?"

"I have at least a partial one. I've gone over it with Cassidy, with respect to having as little interference on the ops teams as possible and with respect to dealing with Awakened abilities. I'd like to go over it with you, and then brief you, Stephen, Cassidy and Cal together, if that's all right, to present the more or less final version."

"Stephen," Marc hissed, "has gone walkabout. Again."

Trevor hid a small smile behind his hand, as he got out a diagram and some notes and put them down on Marc's desk. He opened the laptop he brought and booted it up. "To business?"

"Yes, please," Marc replied.

After a considerable amount of time during which Trevor detailed the current state of security for The Refuge (nonexistent) and his initial implementation stage (Refuge lock down), and his desired higher level of security, the two sat back and regarded one another.

"So, MI5? The rumours were true I take it."

Trevor shrugged. "Interpol does its own surveillance as well."

"No doubt," Marc agreed. Yes the man had been MI5, he was sure of it. "All right. So we put up CCTV cameras at strategic places, install communication filters capable of blocking any and all transmission in or out of the Refuge proper, and assign guards to key people we think are at risk."

"Right. I know. Quite a few people won't like the idea of guards. We could do it clandestinely in a normal setting but here, where the population is restricted and known to one another, not possible."

"And when a bloody fucking stupid major player decides to go walkabout?" Marc asked, his tone calm despite the words.

Trevor's lips twitched. "I've an idea for that. Granted, the fact that Awakened can just zap out of a place and no one can know where they go presents rather unique problems. We can't just track them from place to place or scan the grid for them, so I've got this." With that Trevor held out a small round object about half the size and depth of a dime.

"And this is?" Marc asked.

"A tracker. There are two kinds. One we can place somewhere on anyone we want to follow and keep an eye on his or her whereabouts. Say, the ones you suspect of being spies. It is small enough that merely passing by one can be placed under a collar or dropped into a purse or something. We then have a program that utilizes software attuned to GPS data, that will tell us where the person is so long as the tracker is transmitting. Granted, he could enter someplace with a field that might block it, but at least we'd have an idea where he is. We also have access to satellite imagery which we can use to scan the area. Oh, and I've set up a way to block the Refuge from any such spying on it, as well."

"Hmmm," Marc replied. "You propose tracking our major players?"

"No," Trevor replied. "If we can track them, so can others. Too dangerous to do so except in special situations. So instead I have this." Trevor pulled out a slightly larger version of his first tracker.

He held it out to Marc, who took it. "And, it differs how?"

"We'd need our people to agree to use them. But.. It is undetectable by any surveillance equipment I know of, until it is turned on. Then it will broadcast to our software and tell us where our player is. So if, say, Stephen went walkabout and didn't want anyone to know where he was, well, he could leave it turned off. But if he got into trouble, and needed back-up or assistance, he could turn it on with a touch." Trevor demonstrated. A tiny light built into the thing began blinking. Trevor turned his laptop around and Marc saw a grid showing the topographical layout of the Refuge and the light blinking steadily in Marc's office.

"I see," Marc said. "And guards. Stationed at key areas, not only assigned to personnel?"

"Yes. We can do most of it electronically if they are Awakened. CCTV watching Stephen's house, the House, the Monastery, the Village when you open it, and your place. Any sign of trouble, the guards pop over to check it out."

Marc's eyebrow rose. "My place?"

Trevor smiled. "You don't honestly think Stephen will agree to have his own house watched if yours isn't do you?"

Marc frowned.

"You're at risk, Marc. Despite your certainty that you can handle anything. It would be as big a blow to things as they now stand if they killed you as if they killed Stephen. And we need to keep an eye on those you care about too. Doni. Dinah."

"Yes, Dinah has been watched all along. Stephen is quite concerned about her."

Trevor shook his head. "And now she's doubly at risk."

Marc looked at Trevor his eyes narrowed.

"There are no secrets in the Refuge, Marc. And especially not from the guy setting up the security."

"Yes, well...." Marc said, clearing his throat.

Trevor's eyes danced. "So, are we agreed?"

"Yes. We'll need to brief Stephen, Cal and Cassidy as you said earlier before implementation. I'd also suggest we include Tommy, Reno and Jordon, as they are integral to knowing all our schedules. But yes, we're in agreement."