Pygmalion

By DocPaul

Chapter Thirty-six: Spaces in between…

Day Fifty: Tuesday, 8:43 am

“CeeCee said that he hasn’t been seen anywhere.”

“Cee is a lying bitch.” Michael observed as he maneuvered the car around a congested traffic area. “Benny has to be around. Life changes, things happen, but Benny is always the same lying sniveling snitch. Call around and see if anyone knows where Sly is. Sly will know.”

Max took his phone and began hitting different numbers. Strickland was out there. They needed to find him before the others did. “He might come to us like you suggested.”

“If it was going to happen it would have by now. Strick-dick is a rat, a lying, cheating, dishonorable rat, but he isn’t stupid. He’s not going to stick his head out unless he has to, but someone has to have heard something. This is Roswell, dammit, not some metropolis! Our seedier streets aren’t even that seedy.”

Max glanced at his partner. Michael was driving for the first time in a long time. His license and insurance vouchers had finally come through. There was a running poll at the PD as to how long it would take before he was off active duty driving again. Max had two weeks. Even Michael could be good for two weeks.

“You look relaxed and a little happier.” Max observed. “You and Maria settle things?”

“Oh, the Professor and I came to an understanding for now, but settled? Even at our most cuddly version of settled, we’re still on the verge of a meltdown. Keeps things frosty and on our toes,” Michael said smugly, more than a little proud of himself and his relationship which was nothing if not always changing and exciting.

Max laughed. “You never did ‘woe’ peaceably.” He punched Michael on the shoulder and pointed to a break in traffic that Michael had missed pushing through. Sitting back, he enjoyed the echoing sounds of pissed off motorists honking at them and screaming obscenities. Normalcy. Ah, the sweet sounds of normal bliss. First day of October, and though it was still warm in Roswell, they were moving into  autumn.

Dispatch came through and Max answered the request. “Ten-four.” He hung up the receiver. “You catch that?”

“Lindsay and Dusk. Disturbance. Got it.” Michael evilly cut off three cars and while they were bitching, he hit the lights and siren. “Since when do we pick up disturbances? That’s a unit job.”

“Unit is already there. They’re awaiting backup before entering the premises.”

Michael made a clicking noise in his throat. “Then let’s see what we can see.”

Morris and his partner were on the sidewalk in a neighborhood at the edge of the industrial park. It was a mid-range to low economic area, a once nice community until time and progress left the homes rundown. Most of the houses were close together and built in the Fifties.

“Hey Morris! What you got?”

Morris nodded at his partner and approached Michael and Max. “The landlord was serving eviction papers to a non-paying renter. The doors were jammed and the place stank to high heaven. He checked the garage. Renter’s run down Yugo was parked in the slot, so he made the call.”

“He wants us to roust and serve?” Max asked.

Morris shook his head and was about to comment, until he noticed Michael. Michael was turning his head and his eyes narrowed. Morris could almost see the flaring of his nostrils. Impressive. Even in the heat, standing downwind, there was a faint pervasive smell that lingered. When Michael got close enough to the door, he couldn’t miss the smell. It made him call for the Major Crimes unit.

“Maxwell, call in Simon and his boys.” Michael took out his gun, and nodded to Morris who did the same and followed. Max frowned but made the call and then followed. Suddenly the smell that had been beyond his range suddenly hit him full force. His stomach turned, and he automatically had to swallow a desire to gag. The sickly sweet smell of death blended into the heat and hung over that house in a still cloud of decay.

“Michael...”

“I smell it.”

Michael banged on the door, and nodded to Morris. Both of them kicked at the same time and the door caved under the force. The smell that had been bad enough from the outside was stifling and insufferable inside. Morris gagged, but followed Michael into the tinderbox.

Max was on their sixes moving out and to the side taking the side rooms opposite Michael with Morris moving forward through the main rooms. They called out, but it was apparent that there was nothing living in that house but the things that came with death.

Michael moved, following the smell to its main point of emanation, a back room off the kitchen. Max bumped into Michael as he shook his head and exited the room. Morris, who had entered with him, was out of the room and heading for the front door in a furor. He just made it outside beside the front stoop, where he lost his guts. His partner came to his side, ready to enter the house, but Morris’s weak hand stopped him.

“Joe, nothing you want to see in there.”

Michael glanced at Max and started to walk the house. “Found Benny. Or what’s left of him.” He began mentally cataloging the scene as the possible scenario came to mind. He would move from the point of entry towards the crime scene, and build the crime in his mind as it had occurred.

Max peered into the room and closed his eyes quickly. As a new father, he would’ve much rather spent the day rejoicing life, not wading through death.

Benny the Snitch was strung from the ceiling by his feet, trussed like a Thanksgiving turkey, with his tongue cut out, his eyes removed, and his entire abdominal region flayed open with his entrails draining to the floor beneath him in a dried puddle of blood. Benny the Snitch would never tell any tales again. Someone had certainly made sure of that. Dead men didn’t give up their secrets.

~~~

Maria was calling in a long grocery list when the doorbell rang. Going to it, she quickly checked to see who it was, and smiled when seeing Margo’s brilliant red head. Margo’s new loft and studio was almost done. They had put a rush on it after finding her and Zeke in a state of intimacy that was perhaps not suitable for their age and maturity level. Stan’s company had it all but done, except for final touches such as a special sink for cleaning artist brushes and the industrial windows needed in the full upstairs studio. The special venting system had taken some work as well.

Maria opened the door and pulled Margo inside, shutting it quickly before any of the cool inside air dissipated to the sweltering outdoors. Margo listened for a moment, and as the grocery list went on and on, she abandoned Maria to excessive phone shopping and went in search of something to drink. Shocking. The refrigerator hadn’t much to offer. It was bare. Really cleaned out. Maria finally finished wincing at the final tally. They really needed to get their lives back in order.

“Hey!”

Margo smiled slightly and waved her half-drunk bottle of water at Maria. She pushed an envelope towards Maria and waited silently. The envelope was nice. Heavyweight and off white. It was printed. Opening it, Maria gave a little squeal of pure happiness and hugged Margo hard.

“You’ll come?” Margo asked in her soft whispery voice.

Maria sat in the seat next to Margo and gently pushed the hair off her face and nodded with a huge smile. She couldn’t contain her happiness. This was big. Real big.

Margo had a gallery showing the next night. Wednesday.

People often discounted or mistakenly ignored feats of true valor and courage, because they were small, and in many eyes insignificant. These very acts were overlooked and seemed to pale in importance, in relation to other achievements. That in itself was misleading. A test of true valor and courage is defined by a person overcoming great odds to achieve what was once considered unattainable or beyond them. Margo had just done that. In a seemingly small act, she was going out into the light, into life and had arranged to have her work shown professionally.

“Do you have enough stuff?” Maria chewed on a nail. Margo had lost so much in the fire. “I have many of your pieces from before. If you need them, I can give them back for your gallery showing, and….”

“No. I’ve got it covered.” Margo seemed uncertain. “Can you bring Zeke? I wasn’t sure if I should ask him to be my date, so instead I left him an invitation in his backpack.”

“How are you getting there?”

Margo shrugged. “I’ll be there. I have things I have to do at the last minute, so it’ll be a close call. All the framing isn’t done, and last night we were up late trying to block out the displays. Zeke was upset that I hadn’t called to let him know where I was or when I’d be home.”

Maria groaned. “Time to get you out of his place.”

“Yes. The new loft and studio look great.” Margo looked at Maria. “You didn’t have to give me more space and luxury.” Maria had had the size of Margo’s place expanded into had been Mrs. Mulhoney’s loft. Their Mulhoney was sorely missed, but Margo’s new place would open up into that garden, and the long area from Margo’s loft to the wall of the garage would be a walled in garden connecting to the other garden. It was a tribute to a woman they all loved. Maria was already arranging outside construction to add new windows to the other lofts, and doors into the garden.

So Maria ignored Margo’s thanks. She would do more if she could. After Margo left, Maria turned the card over and over in her hands. Maybe…

“Jonathan Stiller, please.” Maria said into the phone when Jonathan’s assistant answered.

“Mr. Stiller is on a conference call. Who may I say is calling?”

“Maria DeLuca-Guerin.”

“One moment!”

“Maria…” Jonathan stopped talking to her for a moment as he talked to someone else. “M, meet me at the Towers for lunch? I really need to talk to you about…”

“Noon. You call it in. Talk to you soon.” Maria hung up. She cooed at Mr. Boo and then decided to wander over into the new addition to talk to Stan and see what all the noise of the day was about. Mr. Booboo walked at her side like an inspecting General making his comments loud and plaintive. Things were starting to look really good. Her next project was to see if Sean and Julia would like the two lofts between Zeke’s and Liz and Isabel’s loft. There were two empty ones. They could be opened up into one large two story unit, spacious enough for both Julia and Sean, home office for Julia, and maybe someday kids...

Maria had totally returned to her usual meddling mode, happily doing what Michael liked to call her nesting instinct. Suddenly registering the cat at her feet, she frowned. There was a distinct white threading hanging from his mouth.

“Not his socks again?” Maria sighed, being more put upon than most average cat owners. “Couldn’t you shred a few of his dress socks? He hates those anyway, but his white athletics? It’s insane to feel jealousy over a simple pair of socks. I know he likes them, but really, he likes you more. You’re our watchcat!”

Mr. Booboo sat his huge seat down and began the task of removing the evidence before the other one got home. Watchcat indeed. He just hated to see an uncomfy drawer. Now it was perfect for a quick nap.

~~~

“Sit!” Michael pushed the man back into the seat next to his desk. “Stay! Or I’ll handcuff you.”

The man looked over at another man sitting at Sean’s desk. The two men sneered at each other, both of them sporting bruises and split lips. Max hung up the phone, and ignoring the man next to Michael’s desk, he beamed at his partner. “That was Kyle. The doctor is releasing Zan and Tess today.”

“That’s fast.” Michael frowned at his watch. It was almost lunchtime and his day felt like shit. A badly DOA Benny the Snitch, and then breaking up a fight bordering on a riot at a local coffee shop when people in line for their morning brew got tired of the wait. “I thought you were taking baby time.”

“I was, but decided to wait until after this week. I’m staying over at their house during the evenings and overnight this week, so I thought I’d let Tess and Kyle have the days to bond.”

“That’s very ‘ultra-sensitive male’ of you.” Michael looked at the man in the chair as he struggled to type up the report. “So that was a triple shot latte, extra cream, hazelnut, shavings on top, half…” Michael swore. “You fucking can’t have half cream when you order extra cream!”

The man over at Sean’s desk violently agreed with Michael. “That’s what I told this nut job!” He exploded out of his chair to jump the man Michael was interviewing. The two of them scuffled on the bullpen floor in a pile of limbs as grunts and curses rose from the heap. Michael calmly reached over and poured his coffee on the two of them. They both sat back on the floor in shock. Obviously, it wasn’t just Postal workers who went postal over dealing with the public. Michael mentally added people who worked behind hot espresso machines to his list.

“Black. Hot. No. Cream.” Michael said loudly as he reached down and lifted his guy while Sean grabbed his. “So sit down, and shut the fuck up! I’ll arrest you both for being a pain in my ass! Flavored coffee? Flavored coffee! What the hell is wrong with a cup of Folders’ Mountain Grown?”

Jim stopped at Rhonda’s desk and took the papers she handed him. “Normal stuff, Rhonda?”

“Yeah, Cap. Everything’s normal.” They both looked over at the ruckus as Michael’s bellowing increased. “Very normal.”

“So you finally say yes to a date with Daniel?”

“That is a ‘need to know’, sir. And,” Rhonda stood up and took the papers back that he signed, “...you don’t need to know.”

“Understood.” Jim smirked. “But once you’re over me not needing to know, be sure to call my wife and give her the latest. She’s wondering when she can ask the two of you to dinner. So you come as a couple, or she sets you up as a blind date…and won’t that be fun!”

Rhonda stood there with her mouth open as Jim went happily into his office and shut the door, closing out the obnoxious noise. Threats! She was just threatened by her boss! She missed Maria entering the bullpen, as she moved her way through the mess.

“Hi, Rhonda.”

“Hi,” said Rhonda absentmindedly until she noticed it was Maria. “Maria! Long time no see! You’re looking wonderfully pregnant!”

“Is that a polite way of saying ‘round’? Because I am definitely getting round.” Maria patted her stomach happily as she shoved more of her Fifth Avenue bar into her mouth. Hiding the other one behind her back, she stepped around the mess on the floor and smiled nicely at the man handcuffed to a chair at Michael’s desk before addressing her favorite tract of property. “Hey, Detective!”

Michael looked up scowling until he saw Maria, and his attitude changed immediately. “Whatcha doing here, Professor?”

“Oh, I was on my way to a lunch date with Jonathan, and thought I would drop by and see you.” At the mention of Jonathan, Max perked up as well.. Uh huh. She hadn’t thought of that. Now there was a potential of having both Max and Michael crashing her lunch dates, especially if that lunch date was Jonathan. “Forget it! Neither of you are invited.” Maria softened the blow by offering Michael the other Fifth Avenue bar that she had behind her back.

“Candy! Okay, you’re forgiven. Ignore this ruffian. You need to talk to me?”

Maria looked at the man. “You’ve got coffee on that shirt. It’s linen. If you don’t soak it soon, you’ll never get the coffee and blood out.”

“He poured the coffee on me,” the man said gesturing to Michael.

“Really?” Maria looked her husband over, up and down, and a genuine smile lit her face. “Aw, Detective! You’re getting so tolerant. See! I told you having babies would mellow your disposition.”

“Yeah,” Michael took her arm to lead her away, glaring back at the man. “I’m a real cream puff.” They went into the breakroom, and Michael searched the refrigerator for a bottled water for Maria. “What’s up?”

“Margo.” Maria passed him the invitation. Michael read it, his eyebrow going up.

“Tomorrow night?”

Maria nodded. Michael sniffed. His crestfallen face was adorable. He hated social events, but for Margo… “We’ll have to go.”

“Take Zeke?”

“Yeah.” Michael stared at the invitation. This was big. Real big. Margo had done it all herself. She went out in public, procured herself a gallery showing, and worked with the gallery to get it underway. No help from them or anyone. “She’s trying.”

“I know.” Maria sat on the table looked at Michael. “I don’t know, Michael. She and Zeke. I know she’s doing this for him, but he’s so young. She has a good four years on him, and then some. The age difference won’t matter in a few years, but right now?”

“He’s still a kid. Too young. You’re right.” Michael handed the invitation back to her  “Look, we can’t control everything, okay? They’re both independent. They have their own jobs and lives We can’t protect them, and sooner or later we’re going to have to let them test their wings, make mistakes, and start over when they fail.”

“I just want them to be safe.”

Michael framed her face. “We’ll keep a close eye, okay? But there’s only so much ‘safe’ we can really give them. They’re growing up. Bad news. We knew it was going to happen.”

“There’s more,” Maria sniffed. He was right. She knew that, but it helped having him tell her what she already knew.

“What?”

Maria kissed him softly and broke the bad news, “It’s black tie.”

~~~

“Professor, Mr. Stiller wanted you to know that he would be late.”

“Thank you, Charles. You’re working during the day? Did you switch from the evening shift?”

He held the chair for Maria and handed her the napkin. “For a few weeks. My wife and I are taking a night class together. It’s over in a few weeks.”

“That’s lovely. The only class I can get the Detective to take with me is a Lamaze class, and he shot the water cooler. Do you know how thirsty pregnant women get?”

Charles looked around in alarm. “He’s not joining you, is he?”

“No.” Maria gave the man’s hand a comforting pat. “He was too busy leaning on some witness or something.”

Charles looked relieved. “Would you like to wait for Mr. Stiller, or…”

“Oh, no! I need to eat. He’s late, so he loses the privilege of ordering for me. Tell the cooks that it’s for me, tell them that I’m starved, and shock me with goodness.”

“Done.”

Maria spied something in a waitress’s hand. “Are those breadsticks?”

“I will have them send you a nice hot batch with some special herb butter.”

“Bless you!” Maria made a nice soothing noise to the twins. Food was on the way. Breakfast had been hours ago, and she was fast working off that energy with all her chores and errands, on top of restocking the entire kitchen in groceries. The candy bar helped, but that was so many minutes ago. Tuesday. Such a tiring day at times.

By the time Jonathan got there, he was starving, irritated, and very late. Maria waved her fork at him and kept feeding her face. Reaching over, he grabbed a breadstick.

“Charles, I’ll have whatever the Professor is having.”

Maria stopped chewing for a moment to look him over. “You don’t want to see a menu? Peruse the selections? Contemplate the overall goodness of very item?”

“Dessert. I’ll revert to form during dessert. Now I need food. Lots of food. I can’t seem to get full.” Jonathan looked around for his food. What the heck was taking so long?

“Hmmm. Maybe you’re pregnant.”

Jonathan laughed. “You’re in a fine mood, my little scarfing bunny. Shove some more food into that gullet. I actually heard that last comment.”

Maria laughed, but she didn’t waver in her regard. “Really, if you were too busy, we didn’t have to meet.”

“No. I needed to talk to you.”

Maria smiled when the server showed up. Good. More food. “About...?”

“Your mother.”

Maria hadn’t expected that. “My mom? Why? What did she do now?”

Jonathan didn’t want to tell her, but there was nothing he could do about it.

“No! Wait! Vanessa. Is this about the ex-bitcha from hell?”

“You know? You know, and you aren’t worried about Vanessa rubbing radical elbows with your mother?”

Maria grimaced. Normally, yes she would’ve been, but she had been busy. “Okay, so sue me. I was preoccupied. Mom already tried to hit up the Foundation the other day.”

“Correction. Today too. She called me about a sizable donation.”

Maria covered her eyes. “Oh, Lord, preserve me.”

“Not yet, my little Chica! There’s more! Then she came by the offices.”

Maria groaned.

“Half my staff is now volunteered for this charity event. Don’t ask. I don’t know! They don’t know! No one knows.”

Maria breathed hard. “You want me to control her?” Jonathan’s eyebrow rose. “Moi? ….a pregnant woman, soft and delicate?”

Jonathan snickered at the word ‘soft’, but he would concede her delicate. “Maria, someone has to get your mother free of Vanessa’s clutches. That woman does nothing if she doesn’t have a hidden agenda. I can’t think of Amy involved in her shady dealings.”

“Shady? Honestly, Jonathan, shady?”

“Okay…maybe the word ‘shady’ is too strong.”

Maria made a noise in her throat as she cleared it.

“Look, Maria, I’ll take care of Vanessa, if you take care of Amy. Deal?”

“Deal. Mother already has volunteers from of your employee roster, and I can fake fatigue from the babies. I should be safe.” Maria was winding down. Her plate was pretty empty. Now dessert. As promised, Maria let him pick out the dessert for them both.

Cake. Chocolate. Decadent. Lush. Wonderful. Whipped cream.

Maria was humming happily as she ate a second piece and part of Jonathan’s. He sat back and drank his coffee, amused at her relish for all things food. Maria licked her fingers and changed his world. “So you going to talk to me about it, or not?”

“What?” Jonathan refused to meet her eyes. Maria remained silent, but she waited. Finally he looked at her. “You know,” said Jonathan.

“Yes. I know.”

~~~

Strickland moved through the dark areas of the warehouse, avoiding the activity in the front. There were workers loading and unloading boxes and supplies. A man suddenly appeared in front of him. Mr. Richards. Pierce’s right hand man, and mouthpiece.

“Captain Strickland, we seem to have a problem. You are a hunted man. Therefore I must ask what you are doing here.”

“I need to see the boss.”

Richards motioned for a few men to step back as they came forward. “Really? That is brave of you.” A hint of malicious spite moved over the man’s face. He was fearless in all things except one. Pierce. He feared Pierce. “The boss hasn’t been himself lately. He’s not quite the man he used to be.” Richards found that funny, and his laughter was barely restrained. “He’s in a meeting right now. One I wouldn’t want to interrupt. If you want to see him, you’ll have to wait.”

There were few options left for Strickland. His stomach soured, but in truth the warehouse was perhaps the safest place for him at this time. Chameleon wouldn’t dare attack Pierce or his operation. This place was new. Pierce set it up only recently. He nodded.

“Good. Let me put you into the laboratory. I suggest you don’t breathe in too deeply. Some of the items in there can be lethal.”

Fucking meth lab.

“This deal, why should I make it with you?”

Vanessa tried to peer through the dark gloom surrounding Pierce. “You protect them. We protect them. We’re all protecting them. Somehow, somewhere the Granilith resides, and only they can locate it.” Vanessa sat on the edge of the seat. There were two men on either side, protecting Pierce. No one advanced closer than that. “It was activated the other night. For a very short time. In the desert, then in Roswell. And then gone.”

Pierce laughed bitterly. “I see.” So, somehow, someone had activated the Granilith. Interesting. Twirling a pencil around, Pierce searched the woman’s face. Not bad. She was holding up well for a husk aged fifty years or more. “You have been moving in closer to them. Talking to Amy Valenti was a stroke of genius. She is the mother to them all.” Pierce tossed the pencil on the table. “But be careful. Amy is protected.”

“She has no play in this game.”

Pierce laughed. “No, she does not. But, I am suspecting that there is more in play than even we know. Think of this. What if it isn’t just the children that create this Granilith, but the environment in which they are raised, that determines their ambition? Maybe Amy Valenti, their grandmother, is a motivator? What if she dies? What if she is not there to do what is needed? We cannot know. Every instant that we enter into their lives, alter them, or threaten to change something in any way, we are risking everything.”

“How do you know that we and our interference isn’t part of the motivation, either?”

“I don’t.”

Vanessa laughed. “Oh my, the all powerful Torq’el doesn’t know something!” Taunting him was a mistake. He was feared in the last world, deadly and barely contained. On this world, he ruled with impunity.

Pierce’s stare sharpened and became deadly. “That is no longer my name! I prefer to be called  ‘Pierce.’”

“When was the last time you shifted, Torq’el? Do the emotions of this form haunt you?” Vanessa laughed. “No. Because you shift often, don’t you? How else could you elude us so long?” She clicked a nail on her teeth. “That must be very trying, keeping all those personas locked up inside, their remnant human emotions warring to get free. What a nice little schizo you must be.”

“I shift when it suits me. I control my body and whatever remnant emotions I need to control.” Pierce’s intent was murderous. “I have created a life for myself on this planet, as have you. It took me years to realize that a life of crime suited my nature better than a life of the mundane. The Dupes were idiots! I deserted them to their fate years ago. Sniveling children, egotistical and sure they were the Royals! I fed them the destiny garbage early on, and it kept them unified for over a decade. I did not lose control of them until they learned they were not the real Royals. Who knew such a made up Destiny could have so much effect on the mentally challenged? They were fools. Their natures. Their powers. They could have made a life for themselves in organized crime. Instead, they haunt the sewers like rats, living like rejects.” Pierce flicked a piece of lint off the front of the desk, and absentmindedly tidied the area, pushing things into appropriate piles.

“They are searching for the Granilith too. It is their intent to assume the lives of the Royals.”

“They will fail. The Royals are stronger in power.”

“The Royals are sleeping. As is the Granilith. All the power in the world would not help them if they can’t control it.”

Pierce laughed. “They control it! The King has awakened. The Commander has found his focus. And if Vilandra finds her power, then it is the Queen we should fear. She, with her unborn son, held back thousands of tons of concrete from crushing them to death. Together they will be unstoppable. Once they learn to unite their powers, they can hold this world from all invaders. The Granilith will be lost to us.”

“They can have this world. I don’t care. The Granilith is all I want. All my lord, Kivar wants.”

“He wants more. Wanting is good.” Pierce was tired. All these Skins did was talk and talk. “Why are you here? What is it you want, except that which I will not give you?”

“We stand on opposite sides, Shifter. We go for the same prize. As it stands, there can be only one winner.”

“Not true. I made a deal with Kivar. If I get the Granilith, Kivar gets the Granilith. If you get the Granilith, again, Kivar gets the Granilith.” Pierce’s face, rat-like and intense as the eyes darkened to a deeper color, stared through the gloom of the room. “Of course! If I win and fulfill the deal, Kivar has no use for you, or any of the Skins. Will he call you home? No. He will leave you here rotting in your husks of skin. I can smell you from here. Every generation of husk has a shorter lifespan. You are already too dependent on your current husk to transfer to another. You are de-evolving, trapped inside the very technology that sustains you!” Pierce laughed in amusement.

Vanessa’s face raged. It wasn’t funny. Her death was not a laughing matter. She had to win. It was the only solution. “I was hoping you would see reason! I am in a position to be very close to the Royals. You would benefit from my position.”

“No. You are too far from them. Do you think that I cannot open my hand, stretch it forward and touch them? I have no use for you.” Pierce nodded to the men standing there. “Show the Congresswoman out.”

Pierce waited until Vanessa was gone. Richards came in and passed Pierce a note with Strickland’s request for an audience. “She is a problem. One that I might have to take care of immediately. Nothing can interrupt the flow of Destiny.” Pierce read the note and shook his head. “Pathetic. Strickland. I should have known it was he hiring the Chameleon. Make him wait an hour, then send him in, and…” Pierce stopped Richards at the door. “Send some men. Kill his family. Burn his house to the ground. I need a trophy of his wife’s hand. The one with the wedding ring.”

~~~

“How? When?”

Maria stared at her empty plate. “That night. In the mental plane, I stretched out my hand and  touched yours. In that moment, I saw you.”

Jonathan nodded. “I didn’t know what I was expected to do. You showed me. In that moment, you showed me how to focus for Max. I was an empty slate waiting to be imprinted by a powerful talent. Max.”

“Yes. I think he’ll be the only one you’ll ever focus for, and Jonathan, I think it’s for life.”

“My life. My honor. My loyalty.” The way it was. The way it always would be.

“That moment I touched you, it was like looking into a mirror. I saw me. I felt me. How can that be?” Maria remembered that night. She had reached for Jonathan’s hand instinctually. For a moment, it was like looking into a void, a mirror that echoed numerous images of herself one on top of the other. A mirror effect.

Jonathan took Maria’s hand in his and kissed it. “Perhaps we are one and the same? I felt you too. Felt you though my body, like a knife cutting a twin path straight to the marrow. I swear, Maria. I didn’t know.”

“It’s why people think we’re the same.”

Jonathan looked around. People were noticing him kissing a pregnant female’s hand. Great. The speculation over his relationship with Max and now Maria would start. Hell. What did he care? He did have a relationship with Maria. One she was beginning to suspect, and one that Michael always sensed. “We are the same, Maria. The same breed. But I’m a pale imitation of what you are. You’re stronger. Very strong. I could feel it that night. I suspect that Michael could never burn you out.”

“Does this bother you, Jonathan? Being like me? Being what we are?” Maria gazed at him in earnest. “Does it bother you that Max only loves you for what you can do, or provide for him?”

Jonathan took Maria’s hand and brought it to his mouth again, kissing it. “No. I have you to thank for that in some ways, Maria. Being as you are...I think that’s what made Max and me possible. It gave me a chance with him, one that I might have never gotten if things had been different. If I didn’t have this innate ability to focus like you do, he might have never felt the draw strong enough to reorder his life.” Jonathan held her hand tighter. “It doesn’t make them love us. It makes them value us. Work hard to keep us. And it makes us their equal. Any other person on this planet would be drowned by their powerful personalities. We’re their natural, real mates, and if that is not what love is anyway, then who are we to say?”

Maria laughed. Jonathan. He was such an enigma. At times he was so unsure of himself, and that was a contradiction to his nature. In all things, Jonathan was always in control. In all things, save one - Max Evans. It was nice to see how vulnerable Max made him. It was nice to see how willing he was to let Max into his life despite the uncertainty.

“Oh, damn! Are you going to cry?”

Maria sniffed, insulted. Nonsense. She wasn’t some leaky-faced wimp that cried at a drop of a hat. “Of course not,” she answered, ignoring the moisture behind her eyes as she dabbed at them. It was so romantic. Maria searched for another tissue, when her hand found the invitation. Margo. Oh yes. She had almost forgotten. Looking up at Jonathan, her eyes took on a look that made Jonathan’s blood run cold. Amy. Maria had her mother’s look. The very look that Amy got when she had a project. Jonathan felt the fear of DeLuca in his veins for the second time that day.

~~~

“Sir, I can…thank you for seeing me.”

Pierce’s men motioned for Strickland to take a seat. They stepped back. The shadows in the gloom of the warehouse office seemed darker and more threatening.

“Why would you come here, willingly?”

Strickland gulped, the sweat beading on his forehead. He could feel the long icy creep of fear down his back. “I…you’re the only person I know that can protect me.”

“Protect you? From the police or from Chameleon?”

Strickland looked at Pierce in surprise. “You know about Chameleon?”

“Of course. I have used him for my own purpose. One that I now regret. Never pay an amateur what one can do oneself so much more efficiently. It served my purpose, but I must admit, it was pure vanity and enjoyment that led me to hire Chameleon.” Pierce leaned forward to fix Strickland with a long cold stare. “And I like my enjoyment wherever I can find it, but I rarely let it cloud my judgment. You cannot say the same, can you?”

“He was supposed to do a job. If it had worked correctly, Valenti would’ve been broken and gone, and my problems would’ve been resolved. I would’ve ruled Major Crimes, and that thorn in your side would’ve been removed.”

“Oh, so this was ultimately for me?” Pierce steepled this fingers together in thought. “I told you that under no circumstances were Guerin and the others to be harmed! Your paid assassin tried to burn him alive in his sleep! It was by chance only, that Chameleon was unable to enter his loft and was forced to place the bomb elsewhere.” He sat back. “I asked Chameleon to cancel your contract. You refused.”

“I didn’t know it was you asking. Had I known, of course I would’ve cancelled.”

“And the bomb at the Police Department’s Major Crime unit? That was in my interest?”

“They’ve been hitting your operations hard. Beyond my control to influence or deflect.”

“Obviously, being that you was on suspension. And this cop you killed? One of your own?”

Strickland sat forward. This might save his life. “He knew. He followed me to a meeting. He saw you.” Strickland wiped the sweat from his brow. “Andy followed you from the meeting back to your home. He was watching you when you changed. It scared him. He saw who you are. What you are.”

“He told no one?”

Strickland glanced nervously at the bodyguards. “He never got the chance.” He looked worried. “Thing was, he took pictures. I couldn’t find them. Either way, though, no one would understand the pictures without Andy explaining them. He can’t now. I stopped him.”

Pierce nodded. “So, this is what? You showing me how you are protecting me? Your usefulness?”

“I beg you…”

Pierce laughed and stood up. “You should! I told you that the Commander and his family were to be protected. You ignored that. You almost killed them twice. Spite and jealousy is a hard monkey on your back, and it is the one that has doomed you. Did you think they had no contacts, no resources? They will find Chameleon through this contract they have on you. They will find him, and Chameleon will talk, therefore putting the final nails in your coffin.” He sat on the desk and began to rearrange the piles into more orderly configurations.

“Not if you take out Chameleon first!”

“Ah, so I see your need.” Pierce studied at a fingernail with interest. Split. Damn. A manicure was needed. Maybe a trim. “Strange, but this Chameleon is a mystery to me as well. None of my people could find him. He reminds me of my now-dead mate in some ways. If I didn’t know that my mate was dead, I would suspect him. This uncanny ability to blend in is highly evolved.” He smiled ironically. All these years later, and it was Sa’rel that was missed. There had been no way to know that the joining bond could pull so long into the afterlife. “No matter. Chameleon will be dealt with, as will you.” Chameleon had to die. It was the only way to cancel the contracts on the lives of the Royals.

“But…”

“I seem to owe you for this act of protection you gave when you killed the cop, so I will honor this debt. I will give you a chance to run.” Pierce leaned forward on the desk. “I suggest you run hard and fast. Do not stop. Do not look behind you. I am coming for you. There is no hole too deep for you to hide. I will find you.”

“But….I can’t! I’ve got family. And…”

“Actually you don’t. I have taken care of that.” Pierce reached for something in a box on his desk. Tossing it in Strickland’s lap, Pierce sat back as the man’s horrified screams echoed in the warehouse as he beheld his wife’s severed hand. “Run…run, fast.” Pierce repeated in amusement as Strickland scrambled away in horror, dropping the hand, and stumbling out of the warehouse. Strickland’s hands went to his ears as he ran, but the sound of Pierce’s loud high laughter kept playing in them.

Pierce nodded to his men. Turning to Richards, the box that held the hand was tossed to him. “Clean up this mess. You know I hate clutter.” He checked the clock on his desk. “Anything else?”

“The people you asked us to watch? They’re meeting. Two are already at the club, and the other is joining them.”

“The Skin?”

“He is there.”

Pierce nodded. Good. Time to remove more loose ends. Retrieve something left behind years ago.

“Did you want me to have the boys follow them?”

“No. I will go. This is something I will clean up personally.”

~~~

Eddie found Alex in the club. They were working on the arrangement for a new song. Nodding to Jeremy and Keeley, he and Freddy quickly joined Eddie. It was time for them to find what was hidden a long time ago. Something that had been forgotten.

Leaving the club, they never noticed the shadow that followed them.

~~~

Hanson caught Max and Michael on their way out for the day. Sean had already left. He had a court date in the afternoon, so he had been gone since lunch. Everyone tried to avoid him most of the morning since court always made Sean such a nice pleasant man to be around. He was biting, irritable, and cold. Michael thought there was nothing wrong with that. He sort of enjoyed Sean with a little coldness in his veins. At those times, Sean looked exactly like his father’s son, intent on doing a job that had to be done.

“What is it, Sam?”

Hanson jumped into the elevator with the two. “My partner. She’s missing.”

Max exchanged glances with Michael. Courtney. Yeah, she was definitely gone. The worry on Hanson’s face was enough to make both of them regret that they couldn’t tell Sam the truth. The two men shared a silent communication, and then Michael gave a barely noticeable nod to his head, and stepped back behind Max a little.

Max looked at Hanson. “She’s gone, Sam.”

“Gone?”

Max firmed his jaw, but nodded as he gave Sam a look of sympathy. “There are two FBI agents in Parker’s lab. Topolsky and Stevenson. Parker spotted them right away. I think your partner was their first plant. Once they arrived, Courtney was relieved of her position.”

“A Fed? My partner was a Fed?” Hanson couldn’t believe it. Courtney was hardly methodical and she lacked organizational skills. But in all the things happening recently…“The hand prints and weird things?”

Max nodded. “They suspected we didn’t turn over all the case materials, and they’re systematically auditing Parker’s lab procedures. Banks must have been sent in first to spy on us, to find out what we knew, and if and where we were stashing the case files. She couldn’t find anything, so I think she called in for backup.”

“This Topolsky and Stevenson?” Sam rubbed his face. “That explains it then.”

Max looked at Michael. “Explains what, Sam?”

“Why she was always disappearing. Why she was unusually interested in Michael. Everything. I guess I got it wrong. I thought she had a crush on Guerin. I guess she was just investigating you.”

“I’m married,” Michael said simply, like that made him totally unavailable for an unrequited crush.

“Yeah, I told her that.” The elevator made the ground floor and Max and Michael got out. They looked back at Hanson who was returning upstairs. He made a sound of irritation.

“What?” Michael asked, almost afraid to hear another problem in a long day of nothing but problems.

“If Courtney’s gone, that means I’m without a partner again!” Hanson sighed and leaned back against the back wall of the elevator. Damn. Not again!

~~~

It was late. Kyle was holding a sleeping Zan. The baby woke him about half an hour ago, and he took him out of the bassinet in their room and gave him to Tess to feed. Watching her breastfeed the small baby, Kyle ran his hand over the soft hair and down the baby’s back. His eyes met Tess’s. Yeah, they could definitely handle a few more like him. Tess was in her element. A mother. It was as if she had been born to play the role.

They didn’t talk about it, but Kyle nodded to Tess. Instead of putting Zan back in his bassinet, or letting him sleep between them, Kyle took the baby down the hall. Tapping on the guest room, he wasn’t surprised the Max answered it almost immediately.

“Is he okay?” Max asked softly, but with a little worry in his voice. He had been awakened by Zan’s crying.

“He’s fine. Fed. Changed. Asleep.” Kyle handed the baby over to Max, and smiled slightly how gently Max held his son. “We thought you wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on him. Just bring him back if he wants to be fed again.”

Max looked at Kyle and then down at his son. “You sure?”

Kyle just slapped Max on the arm and went back to bed. They might get another four hours before the next feeding. Tess was waiting for him. Kyle shut the door and joined her in bed, pulling her into his arms, his hand going to rest on her now flat stomach. It was a habit he had gotten into while she was pregnant.

“Is Max okay?”

“Uh huh.” Kyle settled into sleep with Tess. They had spent the day watching over the baby in awe once they got home and got rid of Amy and a visiting Jim. Now it was Max’s turn.

Jonathan observed from the bed as Max gently rocked the baby, holding him close. Smiling, he moved over and held up the covers as Max and Zan settled back into the bed. They put Zan between them, both on their sides staring at the small sleeping boy. He looked so much like his father. Max watched as his fingers moved over the small hands relaxed in sleep. The soft breathing, and the occasionally suckling sounds. They turned him over to sleep on his stomach, as Max rubbed his hand down his son’s back.