THE ODD COUPLE

by Jason Thorn (Chastant@ix.netcom.com)

She eyed the Slope-head with suspicion. "Yes, I am M'reer Ral'Mar. What of it??" She stood, waiting.

"I am Nicrom Xtich. I have been instructed to bring you to the Director, Nicrom Fkint. You have been told that your skills were needed here, and asked to come." The Nicrom sounded, always, subserviant...

She picked up her bags, and motioned for the Nicrom to lead the way to the Director's office. She wondered why they had sent for her in particular. Her skills, she thought, weren't any better than anyone elses. *What am I in for*, she said to herself, as she followed the Slope-head down the corridor...

After going to a small cubicle, she felt an odd, instantaneous wrenching, and they were in another, larger place. If the Slope was amused at her discomfort, she did not show it.

"This way please."

After swallowing twice, she followed with a muttering growl. She stepped into the waiting room, and she saw another in there, waiting, with a sleepy look in his eyes. With a start, she found she could not immediately recognize this race.

"The Director will be with you shortly." The Slope-head then left, and she was alone with the Other.

She remembered that the translator she had been given could identify races by their speech. She listened carefully, hoping she would not have to speak first...

Finally, the Other looked up at her, with a look of puzzlement.

"Whrtrt hert dfgind of animal are you?" she heard. The translator instantly wrote out -+What the hell kind of animal are you?+- -+TERRAN+-

She looked at him, and felt her partial memory of the Terran race come up from deep in her mind. Terran. Human. Homo Sapiens. Monkeys (vernacular)

*Oh wonderful. A monkey.*

She glared down at the Terran impatiently, then walked to the other side of the room and took a chair. "I don't think YOU are in any position to ask, Terran." She spat the name out as though it were bitter. She turned her head, and spoke no more to him. She only hoped she would not see him after this meeting.

He looked down at his translator, then looked up again. "So THAT'S what a Rehr'Rahm looks like."

She turned, interested in spite of herself. Instead of the usual bastardization, or the mutilation of the noble race's name, he pronounced it correctly, with the right accentuation.

He began to say something else, but was interrupted by the Slopehead coming back. "M'reer Ral'Mar. Stephen Hawke."

She stood up, noticing with an odd feeling that the Terran stood as well.

"The Director will see you both now."

She turned to look at the Terran (Stephen Hawke, she remembered) and suspected that the astonished look in his face looked just like hers. Watching each other warily, they walked through the double doors, taking care not to touch each other.

Another Slope-head was waiting, dressed in a grey robe. As they entered, he motioned them to sit down. They did so, and the Director pulled out a couple of vid-chips, sticking them into the console. A language of hen-scratches soon scrolled across the screen.

"M'reer Ral'Mar?" he asked.

She had been slightly slumped down in her chair, twirling her hair around her thumb. At the mention of her name, she bolted upright. "Yes sir!" she barked, startled.

The Slope-head jumped slightly at her sudden outburst. Hawke, though, never moved.

"Uhh...yes. M'reer of the Ral'Mar. Huntress. Age, 25 cycles. Intelligence scale: Average to Good. Personal IS: Improved." He looked up. "It says here you were able to pick and choose any occupation the Ral'Mar--Hunters--would pick, but you chose to Hunt only the worst, the most criminal of your race. It also says your IS is in the 95th percentile."

"98th percentile." M'reer amended.

"Stephen Hawke."

"Present and accounted for." he sounded guarded, and she suspected he had been listening carefully.

"Stephen Hawke. Private Investigator. Age...23 cycles?"

Hawke nodded.

"Owner of the Terran business Hawke Investigations. It says here that you have a slight criminal record, and are thought of by your police as a..." The Slope-head made a valiant effort, and finally succeeded, and pronounced the word SCUMBAG.

"All PI's are scumbags, it's part of the job. What the hell is all this about? And what is she doing here?"

"We have a...problem. A problem we have brought you here for, to work together." The Slope-head smiled blandly.

Her eyes widened with shock. She was appalled. She looked at the Slope in astonishment, then over at the Terran, who was looking at her with the same look of wide-eyed horror. She looked back at the Director, her eyes narrowed. She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms, like a petulant child. She said nothing.

Hawke was still standing, looking at the Director.

"You cannot be serious."

"I am, Mr. Hawke."

"You expect me to walk in here, and work with ...an ALIEN? Think again buster!"

"Are you refusing this case? Sight unseen?"

Hawke's voice died in his throat.

The Slope-head continued. "Your service promises 'a conference with the relevant facts of the case before decision to undertake the operation.'" The Slope-head looked up. "Sit down, Mr. Hawke."

He did, finally.

"Thank you. We have a problem," he repeated. "Something is prowling this city, and killing its inhabitants."

At his last statement, M'reer's ears perked up. She forgot about the Terran and his ignorance as quickly as she had become angered by it. She leaned forward unconsciously in her chair. "Something? What is it? Its methods... I hope you have more details than that," she asked, trying to mask her eagerness.

"We...do not know what it is, for it leaves no survivors. It has been active for almost 3 weeks."

"How many did it kill?" Hawke asked, his voice sour.

The Slophead paused then said, "134. So far."

"IN THREE WEEKS?!?" Hawke asked, astounded.

She drew in her breath, and a small smile played on her lips. She had dreamed of an assignment like this. *For once... a REAL challenge!* Her eyes gleamed. "How does it kill? Tell me!" she asked, excitedly.

"It...well, it takes off the limbs first, then it...decapitates them. It must do something with the limbs, for we cannot locate them."

"You have a full-scale SLAUGHTER on your hands!" Hawke was standing again.

"Yes. We do. But we cannot ask for help from the League, we cannot give them any suspects. Whatever is killing my people, it is stronger than 15 of us, and fast enough to elude capture."

The Slope-head stopped, and Hawke asked, "That's IT?"

"That...is it. Will you take the assignment?"

Staring straight ahead, she said pointedly, "Sit down, hairless one... *I* will protect you," She sat stiffly in her chair, haughtily, annoyed by his reaction, which she took for cowardice.

"I will gladly accept your assignment, Director."

Hawke glared at M'reer, then thought. This was the chance he needed to branch out into the League, but... *No buts. Get busy living or get busy dying.*

"Okay...I'm in."

"Excellent." The Director could not even manufacture amusement. "I am sure that two professional hunters would be glad to work together as partners."

Hawke looked at M'reer, then muttered, "Right..."

At the word 'professional', she looked over at Hawke with an expression of amusement and doubt. "That fact," she replied, "remains to be seen, Director." She stood up, and waited to be dismissed.

"You both have been issued an apartment in the downtown sector, with adjoining work area. Your connections to local police and notional databases have been cleared at the highest echelons." He handed each of them a blue card. "Thank you."

The Director turned in his chair, and they both figured that was his way of dismissing them. They walked out, each mind working...

***

She stalked out of the office, the anger she felt before returning. She picked up her bags and headed out of the office, determined not to have any more to do with the Terran as necessary. She only hoped that the assignment wouldn't be spoiled by his ignorance.

As it turned out, they had to share a private transport to the apartment. Hawke, to his regret, opened the argument. "So...partner...you got a plan?"

She turned slowly to face him, her eyes blazing. "Yes, as a matter of fact I do." she replied coldly.

He waited, then said irritably, "WELL? What IS it?"

She glared at him. "To catch this criminal and make sure you don't louse up this assignment!" she growled.

"To make sure I don't...listen, lady, and I use the term VERY loosely, I don't need your prima donna attitude on this case. And that plan, tactics-wise, is a definite loser. Unless you have a SPECIFIC plan, don't waste my time. I may have to work with you, but I don't have to like you."

She stood toe to toe with him, glaring at him fiercely. "Look, Terran," she snarled, her nose wrinkling at the word, "this may be just another assignment to you, but this is my life here! This can either make or break my career and I'm not going to have some ignorant hairless ape screwing it up! You stay out of my way and let me do my job and we'll be just fine! And incidentally, if you use the term 'lady' to your Terran specifications, I consider not being one the highest of compliments!" That said, she turned from him, and ignored his presence.

"Fine with me. I won't have to stay out of your way if you work like you act. I'll be too far ahead of you...STRAY."

"Keep that up," she growled, "and I'll have TWO to hunt instead of one... get the picture, MONKEY?"

Suddenly, Hawke's face filled her vision. "Listen UP, tom-cat. Coming after me would be TWO mistakes you

made. Your first and your last. You got the vis.."

The transport jerked to a stop, pushing M'reer forward, toppling them both onto the floor of the transport in a jumble of limbs.

"Get the hell offa me!"

She scrambled to her feet, and looked down at him with sour amusement. "Don't flatter yourself, Human. I've eaten bigger and better than you for lunch, so think before you threaten me." She picked up her bags and sauntered away...

Hawke made a quiet growl that M'reer would have approved of if she had heard, and got off the transport.

The apartment turned out to be spartan, offeing only minimal facilities and furnishings. There was one bedroom. They looked at each other.

"I place my claim..." M'reer began.

"Got first dibs..." Hawke said at the same time..."I'll flip you for it."

She backed away. "Lay one hairless paw on me and I swear..."

He looked up, aggrieved. "I MEAN..." he fished out a Terran quarter and held it up. "Heads comes up, I get the room. If TAILS comes up...you get it. Understand NOW?"

She looked at him suspiciously. "Let me examine that," she said, snatching the coin out of his fingers and looking it over carefully, flipping it over and over in her hands. Satisfied at its authenticity, she handed it back. "Okay."

He flipped it up in the air, and it landed on the tiled floor. "Tails." He sighed. "You get the room. I'll try to find a place out here." He looked around the living room, and frowned at the lack of possible sleeping spaces, then picked out a corner that looked accurate, and started to unpack one of the 4 boxes in one corner of the room.

Shaking her head at his whiny reaction to losing the toss, she picked up her bags and began quickly unpacking, arranging everything neatly and precisely. "Well, at least I won't have to be lugging these things around anymore," she muttered under her breath, putting the bags high on a shelf. She then began prowling around the apartment, examining every nook and cranny, to familiarize herself with the new surroundings... and carefully avoiding Hawke's side of the room.

As she walked out of her room, she saw Hawke pulling pieces of hardware out of one box, setting up a portable computer at one end of the room, a sleeping bag at the other end, and various odd pieces of equipment at the center. He picked up one piece, turned it on, then started moving through the apartment slowly, looking at the dials. Occasionally, he would stop to put a pin in a few areas, then move on after placing each pin.

She stopped in the middle of her search around the apartment and watched him with confusion. After a few moments, she shouted, "What ARE you doing?!"

He looked up, put one finger to his mouth, and said, "Shhh...I'm looking for insects." He dismissed her, walking towards her room.

Her eyes bulged. How dare he! "Hey there! That's MY room! I have NOT given you permission to enter!" But her protests went unnoticed, and she planted her hands on her hips and followed him in, intending to kick him neatly and precisely out on his rump.

"I didn't ASK for your permission. Not this time." he said to her as he moved through the room. Finally, after placing a few pins on the walls and on a small lightbulb, he turned off the device, then pulled out a small cylinder. "Excuse me." He pulled lightly on the bulb, and a small part extended, to reveal a small black dot. A tiny orb. He depressed the stud on the cylinder, and an ear-splitting shriek was directed into the listening device.

She shrieked in unison with the bug, grabbing her ears. She looked up at him with irritation. "I hope you're almost finished! Before I go deaf!" she shouted over the wail.

He shut the tiny airhorn off, and smiled. "Almost done. This entire place is wired with listening devices and tracking devices, made to tell whoever put them here what wo do and say." He dropped the little black ball on an ashtray, and she saw a tiny curl of smoke waft up from it. As she watched, he placed a box in her room, and switched it on. "There. Now when you do anything, there won't be 12 eyes upon you." Without waiting for a reply, he left the room.

She watched him walk away, then picked up the box and moved it from the table to a shelf on the wall. "Looks better there," she said stubbornly. She left the room and continued to prowl around the apartment.

She felt an odd disturbing feeling at the thought of someone watching her. Listening to everything she did, everything she said... The idea was abhorrent. He said nothing as she slipped back outside into the main apartment. He was busy examining some of the firearms he had brought. A few were old, but still very dangerous. Just like him. He felt old, and he felt dangerous. "So...you got any ideas on how we start, Ral'Mar?"

She continued to look the apartment over. "I don't think up 'ideas'. I work from instinct," she replied testily, amazed that he would question her methods.

"Okay. What do your INSTINCTS tell you?"

"My INSTINCTS tell me that we examine his methods, try and find a pattern, and keep our eyes and ears open!" she shot back, annoyed. "Think you can handle that?!"

*My fault for trying to talk to her like a professional.* "Yes," he replied, his voice low. "I can handle that."

She got up from her crouched position and looked over at him. Growling under her breath, she headed toward her room. "I liked you better when you were mad," she muttered.

When she closed the door, he threw up his hands. "This is NOT going to work!" He took a deep breath, then nodded. "Clear your mind. Deep breaths. Don't let her get under your skin."

***

"He's a brash, abusive, illogical one , isn't he?" M'reer's father chuckled, the chuckle coming through the light years without losing any of its robust humor. She had called him, out of obligation and pride, to tell him of her prestigious assignment, and inevitably, she had mentioned her partner.

"What do you think about those Terrans, eh?" her father asked, his eyes alight with good humor.

"Oh Father.. I don't think this is going to work. He's... he's completely... exasperating!" she exclaimed. "I don't know what I did to have to work with this.. this monkey, but I hope he doesn't ruin it for me," she sighed.

At the mention of 'monkey,' her father's eyes narrowed. "Have we descended to name-calling, Daughter?"

She pouted, saddened at the thought of her father becoming disappointed in her. "But Father, LOOK at him! And he called me a Stray.. you know how I hate that."

"So you descended to his level to return an insult." His voice was soft, but still carried the subtle power that made the Ral'Mar the most powerful family of Hunters ever known. "Daughter, the eyes of our people are upon you. You have accepted a task that will give us all much respect, and make you a force to be reckoned with on more than just our world. Do not demean your people. You will call him Terran. Call him human. You may even find yourself calling him Stephen Hawke. But do not call him Monkey. Show him honor by retaining your own."

Her head bowed in shame. "Yes Father.. I will do as you ask. And I will try my best to make you, and our people, proud." She lifted her chin, and smiled up at him. "As proud as I am of you, my Father."

He smiled, and her world turned bright again. "Keep your own path. Keep true to yourself. And you are a credit to your race and your family. Remember...if you refrain from calling him Monkey...he may not be able to call you Stray."

"Yes Father. You are so wise... I hope to be as wise one day," she said, knowing it sounded silly, but meaning it sincerely.

"My Child, you will make me proud by being the best M'reer Ral'Mar you can. I must go, my mission calls. You have the love of your parents and your brothers. Good luck."

She watched as he faded, then curled up on her bed, tired but unable to wind down. She was too excited. She went to the door... but before opening it, she put her ear to it, listening carefully for any noise.

All she heard was a muted snoring. She opened the door, to see Hawke asleep in the seat in front of the terminal, the power still on, the screen still showing the League symbol of their main database. She looked at the tangle of paper, and saw that it was information on her race. He must have pulled it up himself...

She shrugged and headed toward the minute kitchen for a drink, trying carefully to be quiet. Although she knew it was not possible, she felt that her father was still watching her. She took her cup back to her room...

As she drank softly, she wondered...she knew very little about humans. Hawke was not exactly a shining example...

She put the cup down and quietly slunk back into the main room. She went over to the area where he had put his things. Glancing over to make sure he was sleeping soundly, she looked them over carefully, trying to learn something about him, and about how his people lived.

His wallet came first. In it was a few things she found interesting. His PI license showed a clean-cut, short-haired young man, smiling slightly into the camera. The ID was old, a few years old. One crease of the ID turned his smile into a sneer. There was a few other forms of ID, with different names, occupations, personalities, but Hawke's face was on every one.

She found an old photo of a ceremony she recognized as a Terran wedding. Hawke was putting a ring on a young woman she supposed was lovely. In human terms, anyway. There was a photo of a child, maybe 2 months old. The name on the back said Michael Hawke, Lotsa Love.

There were also a few papers. One was of a court date, for what was referred to as a custody dispute. She wrinkled her nose, then looked to his other things.

He carried quite a few weapons. Handguns, shotguns, submachine guns...and a few she could not recognize. She looked to the screen. She had been taught about computers, and maybe she could find out more from there...

She looked at Hawke, sleeping in the chair in front of the computer, and decided to wait till he was away from it before she tried it. She watched him sleep for a moment. *How can he sleep in that position?!* She quietly made her way back to her room, curled up on the bed, and fell asleep...

***

She awoke, as always, immediately, and instantly alert. It was early morning, and she heard Stephen in the other room, bustling in the kitchen. She sniffed the air, and the smell of cooking meat assaulted her nose.

She jumped up, stretched a bit, and made her way to the kitchen. She stood there for a moment, quietly, till he noticed her presence. "I apologize for my comments in the transport yesterday. It was uncalled for. I will refrain from using such names in the future." She stated it bluntly, and did not wait for a reply. She turned and went into the main room, and began to do what Stephen assumed were some kind of calisthenics.

By the time he could recover enough to think about saying, "I accept your apology," she was already gone. Shaken slightly, he turned back to his cooking.

As he brought out the food, he espied her 'workout,' and waited silently. As he watched, he felt himself drawn into it, almost spell-bound by her movements.

She moved like quicksilver, bending in motions he did not think the human body was able to duplicate. Her face was calm, eyes closed, but she somehow knew what was around her, not hitting a thing. Then he closed his eyes, as emotion began to become recognizable, and turned, shutting the sight out before whatever emotion that surfaced became recognizable.

"Breakfast," he was able to manage a normal voice.

She stopped abruptly, and noticed him standing with his back to her. She brushed past him on her way to the table. "If the sight repulses you so much that you have to turn away, I will do it in my room from now on," she said calmly, sitting down. She looked at the food, not really recognizing it.

He took a few deep breaths, then said, "I...wasn't feeling too good at the moment. It wasn't repulsive. It was... beautiful."

She looked up, surprised a word like that came out of his mouth. He shook his head, then said, "Eat up. It's what passes for bacon and eggs on this place."

She wrinkled her forehead, then tentatively took up her fork and speared one egg. She sniffed it, then put it into her mouth. Deciding it was edible, she began on the rest of the plate. "Thank you, for the compliment, I mean," she said between bites. "It's an ancient form of..." she looked up, and saw him watching her eat. She picked up her napkin and wiped her chin...

"...of what?" he asked quietly.

"Of... exercise. Keeps you alert, limber. My father taught me. He was a great hunter." She finished her breakfast and sat back. "So... tell me of your world... Stephen," she stuttered, hoping she pronounced his name correctly.

"Well...geez, where do I begin? It's...it's crazy down there. I think we're still trying to clean up the messes we made in the 20th century. Government is slowly getting cleaned up, but the forests we destroyed still haven't come back. We are ...well, we're returning to sanity, but it won't be for some time." He sounded embarassed, talking haltingly.

"Sounds horrible," she said quietly. "What about you? Tell me about you."

"There isn't...much to tell," he bgean, his voice guarded. "I was a cop's son, a general screwup until I got involved in the law. From there, I created one of the largest businesses in my field." He made it sound as if he was able to make it purely by luck.

She nodded, looking somewhat disappointed in his lack of disclosure. "What else? Surely you must have family..." she asked, hoping he would explain the pictures and the papers she had seen.

Instantly, she felt an invisible wall rise in his eyes. "No...no family," he said quietly. "Does this have something to do with the case?" he asked.

"Well, I thought if we were going to have to work together, It might be good to know something of each other, and each other's species. Apparently, I was wrong. I will not ask again." She fought the urge to respond with an insult, jumped up from the table and went to her room to dress.

He got up from the table, picking up her plate. As he put it in the sink, he thought of his wife, and child. He was happy she had stormed off now. She would have wondered why he was crying...

***

She flopped down on the bed, exasperated at him.. again. "Father... I'm trying, I really am... but I don't think this is going to work out at ALL!" She picked up the pillow, and sank her claws into it...

She thought hard, then brightened. As soon as she was alone with the computer, she would glean all she could out of it. Then she would know for sure.

***

After a few minutes, Stephen composed himself, wiping his eyes, and returning to the computer. "Okay. Let's find out what we can about the killings in particular." He began to type out instructions on the computer...

M'reer paced restlessly back and forth in back of him, not wanting to be stuck in the apartment, doing her hunting with a machine. It went against her nature. She wanted to be out there, stalking him, using her instincts...

"How long will this take?" she demanded impatiently.

"Easy does it. If we're going to hunt something, let's nail down its feeding grounds. Does that make sense to you?"

She growled low under her breath, and continued pacing. "Let me know when you find something..."

"I should have an overlay of this city in a minute or so. I'll plot the places that they all happened. We can go from there." After a moment, the computer beeped and began printing out a map and Hawke ripped it out. "Grab what you need, and be out here in one minute."

She stood, tapping her foot, her arms folded across her chest. "I've been ready since we got here..." she said. "Question is... are YOU ready?"

He looked at her, then pulled out some of the hardware, including a very old-looking weapon. "Smith and Wesson .595 Automatic. Used to hunt Elephant." He slammed a large clip in, then shoved it into a shoulder holster. He looked over M'reer, as if for the first time, and said, "Okay, Sheena, Queen of the Jungle...let's go."

M'reer looked at him as he passed her. A Terran reference? She would have to check and find out.

She went to her room and grabbed a backpack, which she slung over one shoulder. "Nice gun," she said cooly, "but that's not exactly what I meant by ready." Shrugging, she followed him out the door...

They went down to the street, and Stephen held his hand out for a cab. As they rode, he showed her the map, the red dots almost too many to count by themselves. They seemed to be centered in the southern district.

She looked the map over, then sat back, quietly meditating on her task. "I wish we had had access to some of the victim's personal effects," she said quietly, her eyes shut. "I could try and pick up a scent with them." She put her head back on the seat, her lips moving silently over some kind of mantra...

Stephen studied the short list of streets and addresses. It read like a section of city beset by plague. "There are very few registered addresses. I think this is the slum area of this city. Why here?" He tapped a couple of boredering streets. "Tell me...if you had to pick between a good hunting ground, and a poor hunting ground, would you pick the good one?"

She slowly lifted her head, opened her eyes , and looked down on the map. "Perhaps he chose the slum because there's not much attention there. It's a slum -- people don't care about the people there. Why do you think it's a slum?" She shut her eyes again, and put her head back precisely where it had been.

"Maybe. But if a pride of lions slaughtered a herd, other animals would be warned." he frowned. "The hunting a few miles north would be three times as much. But along this street..." he looked up at the Slope-head cabdriver. "Take us along Eldona."

The cabbie nodded, turning left.

"Now, if we..." he stopped. "What ARE you doing, anyway?"

She slowly turned her head, opened her eyes, and held a finger up to her mouth. "Shhhhhh...."

His voice lowered to a whisper. "What's going on?"

"I am meditating," she began, "on the assignment, on the days ahead, and on the task expected of me. It goes hand in hand with the exercises. They strengthen the body; the meditation strengthens the mind and the spirit." She then sighed heavily. "I'm sure you wouldn't understand it." She leaned her head back, whispered something too quiet for him to hear, bowed her head for a few seconds, then came back up, looking alertly out the window at the sidewalks...

As they approached the street called Eldona, she became aware of a slight humming in the air. She looked over to Hawke, wondering idly about his last name, and saw that he was rubbing his jaw slightly. "Something's around here." Stephen said simply.

She looked at him suspiciously. "You have tracking device in your jaw?" she said sarcastically. "What is this?" she asked, rubbing her jaw to imitate him.

"Stop the car!" Stephen suddenly said, and the cabbie complied.

"My jaw aches sometimes. High-tension lines, heavy concentrations of static electricity, helicopters, anti-grav vehicles overhead...air disturbances." He stepped out of the car.

Hawk. Yes, that was some Terran hunting bird, right? She got out on her side, her pack slung over her shoulder, looking at him rather suspiciously. "Okay, what now? I don't think any hunter would come out this early."

Hawke wasn't listening. his head was cocked slightly, eyes upwards at some point in the air. He began to walk towards a set of power lines along the street. "There. It's up there."

"What are you talking about?"

"Listen. Can you hear the hum of the power lines?"

"Well of course I can! I do have ears!" she replied in an aggravated voice. She wished mightily that she were working alone, so she wouldn't have to stand around and wait for him. She began to walk back and forth, keening her ears to hear anything around the humming, her eyes jumping back and forth, searching...

"Listen to them closely."

She sighed, but tried...and then she heard it. A lower oscillation of current along the power lines that had nothing at ALL to do with carrying power. It was too low. For a minute, she felt her jaw begin to ache.

Her eyes widened as the possibilities raced through her mind. "Amazing... an energy being?" she murmured to herself. "How fascinating..." She looked over at Hawke, her eyes gleaming with excitement, like a kid waiting for a ride on a roller coaster. "Well?"

"It's possible...let's walk. Along the current. See where it goes." He paid the cabdriver, then checked his gun. "Shall we?" he said.

"Thought you'd never ask..." she replied, her voice husky and full of eagerness. She charged ahead... then thought, and slowed her pace to allow Hawke to catch up.

As they traced the current, Hawke drew a blue line along the map. And they talked. Hawke opened with, "Tell me about your race, M'reer."

She shrugged, her eyes not moving from the path in front of them. "We are hunters... some choose to hunt lesser prey, some choose to hunt more dangerous game." She thought of something else to say, but could not. She wasn't sure she wanted to reveal too much about herself or her world. She fell silent, and continued to follow the lines...

Hawke said no more, for awhile.

A few hours later, Hawke suddenly stopped. "Wait...isn't that where the cab stopped?"

She looked and saw that they had indeed been here before. "We've been going around in circles?"

"No...not plural. Singular." He showed her the map, and she saw that he had drawn an enclosed blue shape, not quite circular. What she also saw was that almost all the murders were INSIDE the circle. Only one was outside.

She looked up at Hawke, smiling brightly. "We have... a pattern."

She suddenly leaped straight up in the air, twirling once before landing perfectly steady on her feet. "Yes! We have a pattern! NOW I can really start to work!" she puffed, out of breath. She stopped, and said "Well?"

He looked at her, and smiled lightly. "We have a solid place to start. Not quite a pattern, though." He looked back up at the lines. "Something up there is acting as a boundary for this thing. Like an invisible gate. This area inside is the thing's private game preserve."

She scowled at him, annoyed that he would take the wind from her sails. "Well, it's a pattern to me. Don't be so picky!" She looked at the map, the up at the power lines. "Perhaps, if it is an energy being, it needs to be close to these power lines and cannot go beyond them..." She shrugged. "Anyway, now we definately have a place to hunt him down..." Her eyes began to sparkle...

Her enthusiasm was hard to copy, but he smiled, trying not to betray some of the nagging questions that arose. More for them later. "Okay, M'reer. We know where the beast lives. Now what?" he said. She turned, suddenly aware that he was asking for her opinion...no, her qualified knowledge.

"Well, normally I would just stake out the whole area and wait... but maybe we should find out when he usually chooses to do his hunting. Perhaps try and find out more about the victims, estimated time of death, etc., and wait for dark..." She looked at him carefully, waiting for a response.

"Okay. We'll go to the morgue, and work from there." No argument this time. An acknowledgement, and a willingness to listen to her.

She turned and began walking down the sidewalk to the crosstreets to hail another cab. This time she did not slow her walk. She figured he could keep up well enough...

She saw a cab turn, and she waved to it. Immediately, it turned in their direction. She turned back to smile, almost to say I can do this too. His eyes suddenly narrowed, and he yelled, "M'REER LOOK OUT!" She turned, to see the taxicab bearing down at her at full speed...

She leaped out of the way swiftly, landing on her feet, just as she had earlier. She watched as the cab jumped the curb and drove straight into a light pole. Her eyes glimmered again, but this time with rage...

She watched one jump out, firing a gun wildly. She dodged the machinegun bursts, landing in time to hear a thunderclap as Stephen fired, the .595 belching flame. The gunman shrieked as it lost one leg, dropping the gun.

She raced over to the gun, swooping down to grab it as she raced over to the gunman. Hawke watched in amazement as she grabbed the man by the hair, and, yelling something in her native language that he took for a curse, slammed his face into the pavement.

"Jesus Christ, M'reer, stop!" Hawke grabbed him away from her, turning his shattered face to his own, and asking, "Who sent you?" A mumbling, blood dripping from his mouth and nose. "Talk! I said, TALK!" The gunman's legs rattled on the pavement suddenly, a short CLICK coming from the man's throat, and then Stephen was only hold dead weight. He dropped him, muttering, "Shit."

M'reer jumped up and began pacing back and forth in front of the body, cursing it in her native tongue, her eyes spitting hateful sparks. She gave the corpse a light kick with her toe and began stalking down the street. "I'm going to the morgue," she shot out over her shoulder. "Are you coming?"

He got into the car, started the motor, and with a muted rattling, drove alongside her. "I'll be far ahead of you if you don't get your furry butt in here."

She looked at him in amazement. "The driver of this car just opened fire in the middle of the city! Do you really think it's wise to take his car?"

"The plates are likely stolen, and HE'S not giving a rodent's ass if I steal it from him. We'll report it AFTER we get to the morgue. Are you coming, or do you want to stick around here...and wait for urban renewal?"

She muttered protests under her breath in the same garbled language as she climbed into the passenger's seat. "Wonderful... not only are we going to be pulled over for attempted murder, we'll be arrested for car theft and stolen plates as well...." She sat stiffly in the seat, her lips turning white from clenching her teeth together...

"Will you relax? We have those blue cards, remember? They'll let us do just about anything as long as nothing too crazy happens. You're not much for improvising, are you?"

"I usually don't have to go this far, no," she replied between her teeth. "I find my prey, I hunt it, I kill it. Very simple. Why...what do you do?"

"Basically the same thing, but I don't always kill them. But my jungle is made out of concrete, not intermixed symbiotically with the plantlife like yours. The environment may be helpful on your world, but it is hostile on mine. I do...whatever I have to to find the truth."

"The end justifies the means?"

"Sometimes."

She turned to him slowly, her eyes narrowing, but not with malevolence. More with curiosity. "How do you know my world is intermixed with the plantlife? You claim not to know anything about my world..." she asked.

"I looked it up last night, but it's all tourist P.R. talk. Surface material only. Like you'd talk about a place you only read about or heard about from a friend. It doesn't tell me the whole story."

To her amazement, they were not accosted by any law enforcers before they reached the morgue. Stephen opened the car door, after wedging it into a small parking space, and examined the sign with the eye-viewer that was hooked to the translator unit. "Hmm...pathology, coroner's office, morgue area, forensics...let's check in at the office to check out the stiffs."

She climbed from the car and followed him into the building. "You should be more respectful of the dead," she said with a harsh stare. Holding one finger to her lips, she walked down the hall toward the morgue.

*They're dead, what do they care?* Stephen looked until he found the office, and walked in just a second behind Mreer.

The Slopehead looked up, then showed a trace of actual emotion. Patronizing, but an emotion. "What can I do for you..."

"I'd ...WE'D...like to look over some of your files on the serial killings." Stephen showed the blue card, and the attendant came to life--of a sort.

"I'll have them for you. Please wait in the adjoining room." The Slopehead left, and Stephen walked into the sterile white room, and sat down to wait.

M'reer followed, but did not sit. Instead, she began pacing back and forth... it almost looked as if she were revving up some internal engine, readying herself for the hunt. She stopped, and looked at Stephen, amazed. "How can you be so calm?"

"Because we're going to look through a bunch of papers. After that, we are going to look at a few dead bodies." Stephen looked at her, with a calm smile. "I'm preparing for the paperwork."

She shook her head. "To you we're looking through papers. To me, I'm starting the hunt. I have a feeling once we see those files, and examine the corpses, we'll find something, and then..." Her eyes began to gleam with a light that was both delightful and eerie. "...I can begin the hunt. I can't believe you can just sit there with no reaction." Dismissing him, she continued to pace.

He settled back, then asked, "I wanted to ask...what kind of competition is there to get where you are?"

She looked at him and shrugged. "I would assume the same type of competition as anything else. If you are good, you will excel. Why do you ask?"

"On my world, the race does not always go to the swiftest or the smartest. We're only beginning to learn what fair competition is."

She waved a hand as if she thought the idea of playing fair silly. "Fair... what is fair? We do what we must to catch our prey... take too long and they slip out of your grasp for someone else to claim. We do what we have to to catch them...." She scowled, not liking the idea of him judging her and her ways. She paced more quickly.

"I'm talking about being in a race where the other contestants try to stab you from behind..." Stephen added, patiently.

"Your kind confuses me. I have stopped trying to understand you," she replied quickly, still stalking across the room..

"Why...do I even try?" He lapsed into silence, thinking...

A door opened, and a man with a stack of files 3 feet high staggered into the room. He THUMPED them down, and said, "Enjoy." He then stepped back out of the room.

She quickly pounced on the files, grabbing a stack and sitting down on the floor, opening the first one and pouring through it, looking for details that might lead them to their killer...

Stephen took one file out and began to read...

Two hours later, Stephen set up his feet on the table. "Found anything interesting yet."

M'reer looked up and held a finger to her lips. "Shhhhhh... I'm looking."

Well, everything looks the same. "Maybe....wait." He sat up. "Look for a file OUTSIDE that 'force field'. Remember that killing OUTSIDE that perimeter."

She dug through the stack in front of her, looking. "So, if it's here, what am I looking for, genius?"

"Some reason WHY it killed OUTSIDE its playpen."

"As to why it killed inside or outside that perimeter certainly isn't going to be in here. They don't even know exactly what they're dealing with yet. We can only speculate." She plucked a file from almost the bottom of the stack, looked at it, and handed it over to Stephen. "Here's your file."

Stephen pawed it open, reading through it slowly..."Okay...okay...hmm...INteresting..." He began to smile slowly.

She crossed her arms over her chest and waited, impatiently.

"Oh, I'm sorry...go ahead and read all the rest of those files...I'll catch up after reading this insignificant one..."

She glared at him, highly annoyed at his arrogance. "Either say what you found or you're not going to like my reaction." she said impatiently.

"Well, my dear...this singular file has a few DIFFERENCES...like the race of the victim."

She leaned over and snatched the file out of his hands. "Let me see that!" She sat back and began looking...

She saw what he meant. The race was of an off-planet diplomat. The killing was on the 10th floor of a skyscraper, instead of on the street. The killing itself was a mirror image of all the others. The PLACING was ALL wrong, like a wild boar on a 4-lane highway.

She tossed the file aside and ran her hands through her hair. "Well, that's real nice... but not to helpful in my opinion. Just looks like he tossed something in at random to try and throw the police off the trail or something..." she shrugged. "If you have any ideas, boy wonder, go ahead."

"I think it was SENT there."

She raised her eyebrows in doubt. "What makes you think that?"

"No matter if we're looking for something smart or stupid...why would it change EVERYTHING about it's choice of victim except how to actually do it? Like setting a bear loose in a park. It kills like a bear, but then again, the bear doesn't BELONG, does it?"

She looked at him like he'd started talking baby talk. "Uh huh... whatever... tell you what, Dr. Doolittle, you keep looking through the rest of these files, and I'll look through my stack, and maybe we'll find something a little more tangible."

"Okay...but before you give up that file, check the typeface on that report, then compare it with all the others..." Stephen started to look over the files near him...

She rolled her eyes and looked at the typeface, and compared it to a few of the other files...

As she looked, she became uncomfortable. The typeface on the 'outside file' was subtly different from all of the others she looked through.

"Okay, first bears and now typeface. Quit beating around the bush! What are you getting at?!" she shouted impatiently.

"Okay. Everything stinks about this particular outside killing. Nothing about it fits. What I'm getting that is that we should check into this one on the outside. IN DETAIL." He tapped it. "I think our answers will be in there."

She sighed. "Whatever... still, it just might be a copycat. We can't ignore the rest of these," she said, making a sweeping gesture to the files scattered around them. "We have to take them all into consideration, not just that one.. and we can't rely on just your hunch."

"I guess you're right about that. But this odd one is bugging me. Get the address of where this diplomat lives. Let's check it out."

"You mean lived," she replied. She quickly copied down the address, and set the file aside.

"I have the major details of most of these cases to refer to, so we're clear here. Come on, let's get moving. I'll call a cab."

She got up and followed him out the building, thinking about that file... and the fact that maybe he was seeing something that she didn't. The idea that he was possibly getting ahead of her was very unsettling...

As they rode in the cab, Stephen asked, "What would you suggest we do when we get there?"

She looked at him, exasperated. "I don't know! This was YOUR idea! You play it by your OWN ear!"

He shook his head, then sat back. "Just wondered if you had a particular procedure."

"I've never had to follow this particular procedure before," she replied. "I study the method of the killing, pick up scents, little clues, details, track them down... and take care of them." She looked rather antsy. "I usually don't have to pussyfoot around like this."

"Pussyfoot...oh, I get it. Nice turn of phrase." He said, chuckling.

She shook her head, sighing tiredly. "Cute..." she looked out the window...

"Hey, you said it first."

They drove the rest of the way in silence. As he got out, he looked at the place. "Nice place if you can afford it," he said, craning his neck up at the tall building.

She headed toward the door, leaving him staring up at the building. "Well, if we have to do this, let's get it over with! I'm getting impatient!" she yelled.

He ran after her, reading off the address as he caught up with her at the elevator. They rode up to the 10th floor, Hawke pulling the gun out and checked to see that it was loaded. "Never know if it's going to be trouble..."

"Oh, you are trouble," she shot back, waiting for the doors to open.

They walked into the hall, finding the place quickly, but empty and locked. Stephen pulled out a set of picks, and began to work at the lock...

She stood behind him, looking out for anyone coming down the hall, and tapping her foot.

Stephen tried the door, finding it locked. He then thought a minute, then looked at the keypad. His brow furrowed, then he brightened as he reached into a pocket to pull out a small cigarette sized cylinder, which he plugged into the side of the keypad. He pushed a few tiny studs, then waited calmly. "If this takes longer than 10 seconds, I'm going to have to upgrade..." he mumbled.

She looked down at the strange contraption hooked into the keypad. Shaking her head, she glowered down at him. "Whatever... just hurry up with... whatever it is you're doing. I'm losing my patience." Her eyes darted nervously down the hall. "And if we get caught here, we're dead... probably just as viciously as any of those victims in the morgue right now." She tapped her foot nervously as she watched.

Finally, she heard a click, then the door drifted open. "12 seconds. Time for upgrades." Stephen took the cylinder out as he pushed the door open, looking into the room.

The place was clean, almost spotless. M'reer surmised that it had been cleaned, as the murder had happened two weeks ago. The belongings of the emissary were stacked up on the floor in the center of the room, probably until someone from the Customs department got around to sending it back to their home planet.

Stephen, a finger to his lips, stepped slowly into the room, scanning the place. He held a finger up, then pointed to a doorway at the end of the room, then to M'reer, then to the hallway again.

She scowled at him again, growing more and more impatient. She went back to the main door, keeping watch, and motioning for Stephen to go ahead into the other room.

She watched him walk around the apartment, seeming to want to examine every nook and cranny before making a single sound. After he seemes satisfied no one was inside, he nodded to M'reer, and said, "Close the door. No one's home."

She quietly peered around the door down the hallway and, seeing no one, slowly swung the door shut, closing it quietly behind her. "Okay, now what? This place is clean as a whistle. Wanna go through these things here?" she said, walking over to the pile in the middle of the room.

"Yeah. After that, let's check out the apartment proper." He sat down, and opened one one bag, taking articles of clothing out one at a time.

M'reer watched for a moment, then began looking carefully around the room for a place to hide or escape if someone came in. The idea of being caught like a sitting duck in a hotel room didn't sit well with her. After a bit, she sat down on the floor across from Stephen and began digging through another bag, taking everything out and looking it over carefully. "Find anything?"

"Yeah...something." He held up a wallet, then opened it up to show the identity card of the deceased man. "This doesn't look like a standard emissary card. The color along the borders is different. This man was not simply an ambassador." He looked at it for a few more seconds, then his eyes widened perceptively. "I'll be...M'reer, this guy had to be some sort of special operative for his planet. He had a security level SEVEN for a person that is usually set up for a security level of TWO."

M'reer looked confused.

"Look, whoever this operative is, they don't usually send them unless they are going into a situation that they KNOW is hazardous. More hazardous than simply a new planet." He looked into her eyes, hopeful. "Maybe he left something here that could be a clue to what his mission was. Maybe...even about the thing that killed him!"

M'reer looked at him with sarcasm. "A hazardous situation.... oh yeah, and this isn't?!" She stood up quickly and began looking around the room. "Well, if you're satisfied with going through these things now, let's look around this room a bit.... and then we can get out of here." Under her breath he heard her mumble, "And the sooner we're out of here the better I'll like it."

As he pocketed the wallet, he said, "Not used to this kind of work, are you?"

She paused through her search of a nightstand drawer and looked up. "No, I'm not... I'm not used to having to sneak around like this and I'm definately not used to taking this much time! Who cares why or what?! Just hunt down the killer and be done with it! You're too concerned with motives..." she grumbled as she resumed her search.

"Geez...what kind of..." he began, then shook his head. "Never mind. Not for me to say, really." He turned, walked into the bedroom, and began to search.

M'reer's deceptively agile hands were able to uncover nothing in her search, as she carefully examined everything in the main hallway, the closets, the dining room. As she started on another side room, she saw Hawke walk out, and turn on the tap, pouring a drink of water. He suddenly dropped the glass under the stream of water, wincing as she saw a cloud of steam rise from the sink.

Her senses instantly went to alert. Hot water? So soon after he turned on the tap?

She walked calmly over to Stephen and grabbed his hand, looking it over. Satisfied that he was not seriously burned, she dropped it abruptly. "You'll live," she said. Planting her hands on her hips, she turned to him. "Well, obviously someone's been here not too long before we got here.... either that or they're still here.." Her eyes began to gleam in that way that Stephen was now becoming familiar with. That gleam meant that the hunt was not far behind...

He turned, then stopped.

"The drain seems...clogged..." he said, watching the now cool water back up in the sink. As he looked around, M'reer gave him a meaningful look, and started to pace the apartment, drawing out her senses, making them sharp, as she smelled the old odors of the carpet, seeing the slow curve of the wall...

She felt, quietly, Hawke's strong heartbeat, slow and measured. Her mind wondered about it, until she was drawn back to reality. ANOTHER heartbeat...outside...!

She raced quickly to the window and threw it open. She caught Stephen's attention long enough to hiss. "Outside! I'm outta here! See ya!" Quickly, she crawled out the window, sliding it shut behind her.

He grabbed the sludgy square he had found, thinking, out loud, "Man, I didn't think they had fire escapes on this building. Wait...THEY DON'T!" He raced to the window in time to see M'reer crawling up the bare face of the building after a far-off figure. "Sonova...!" He pulled bck, then knew where the person was heading. The roof! Hawke ran out of the apartment, not bothering to close the door.

***

M'reer was gaining on the black-suited figure ahead of her, climbing the wall with only claws embedded in the mortar. Her prey was using cumbersome climbing gear, which only helped him climb up, but not climb up fast...she guessed she could catch up to him at the roof.

She watched as the figure reached the roof and threw himself over the ledge. She quickly scrambled to the ledge as fast as her claws would allow her. As she peered over the ledge she saw the figure dart across the roof. She clambered over and took off toward him at full speed...

She saw, out of the corner of her eye, Hawke stepping out onto the roof from the stairwell. "Hold it, buster!" he yelled, and the man stopped. Before M'reer could reach him, he had already pulled a gun and fired three bursts at Hawke. He was thrown back, tumbling back down the stairwell as M'reer reached him as he tried to unjam the gun...

As she reached him, she shot out a hand and slammed it into his wrist. The gun clattered down the stairwell as she grabbed him and slammed him into the roof. Once he was on the ground, dazed, she lept on top of him. "Okay, you bastard, who the hell are you?!" she demanded, digging her claws into his neck.

The man screamed at the pain, and she realized it was one of the Lizards. *Chlthss,* she amended. A disgusting race if there ever was one. Crazy, psychotic by Galactic standards...and inbred suicides! She looked down and saw that it's tongue was suddenly turning bright pink. She mentally cursed as she realized it had engaged a racial form of auto-suicide.

She watched as the breath left its body. Her eyes narrowing, she raised her head and yowled at the sky madly. Rising quickly, she cursed as she ran down the stairs to check on Hawke.

Hawke lay at the bottom of the stairwell, moaning, clothes pock-marked with holes. She counted 12 of them as she ran down the short flight to the platform where Hawke lay. "Uuurnh....M'reer...? That you...?" he moaned as she bounded down.

She kneeled beside him and began opening his shirt to check his wounds. "You stupid... don't you tell me you didn't wear your bulletproof vest today... don't you dare do it..." she muttered as she worked, looking up every now and then to check his eyes and his breathing.

She ripped open the white t-shirt to see the thin blue vest, white blooms covering it. She removed the vest to see his barrel chest covered in black-and-blue round bruises. The shells had to have been powerful indeed to cause such bruises. She looked up and saw that Hawke's head was bleeding. She used the shirt to create a bandage, but found no holes. A bruise, possibly a concussion from the fall down the stairs. As she finished the bandage, she felt his hand grip her arm softly. Strong enough to denote life, surely. She checked him and saw he was coming around, the muddy haze in his eyes slowly dissolving...

M'reer leaned down and said softly, "How do you feel? Can you talk? Do you feel dizzy? Nauseous? Are you okay? Can you hear me?" She was asking the questions so fast she was out of breath.

He took a deep breath, then answered, in a soft voice, "...feel like hell. I can talk, but it's...not easy yet. I..." He paused, then continued carefully, "I feel a little dizzy. No...nausea. I think I'll be okay. I can hear you, Julia. Listen...Julia, I'm sorry, I'm so goddamn sorry about Mike..." his voice started to crack.

She sat quietly, listening, then sighed heavily. "Yeah....Yeah, I know. Come on, boy wonder, let's get you back to the apartment." She stood, breathing deeply for a moment, then with much effort she leaned down and picked him up. Heading for the door to the stairs, she puffed "Sheesh... you're heavier than I thought... oh well, just settle back and enjoy the ride. Probably never have a female carry you anywhere again...."

She looked at him again, then sighed. He had passed out again.

***

She came into their apartment to hear the phone ringing. She set Hawke down on the sofa, then went to answer. She was greeted with the face and voice of a boisterous bear-like human. "Hawke? hey...who are you?" he asked, suddenly aware of the face...

Showing no emotion, she replied, "I'm his partner. He's resting. Shall I tell him who called?"

"Naw. Listen, maybe you and I oughtta talk instead. I'm Gonzalez, Hawke's old police partner." The smile resumed, and for an instant, M'reer was reminded of her father in the face of this friendly human.

She relaxed a bit, but not enough for him to notice. "What is it you need to discuss with me?" she asked.

"Well, I was checking something for Hawke, something about the history of that race you're working for. Seems they've only recently been discovered by the humongus organization of planets, three or four months ago. He may find this interesting that the killing started two weeks after the date of the discovery."

She nodded slightly. "I will tell him... is there anything else? Any more information... on anything?" she asked, hoping maybe he would volunteer some information about Stephen... and the mysterious Julia.

"Well...let me see. Anything in particular you'd like to know?" he asked, and she figured Gonzalez might know about Julia...

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask, but she remembered how loyal Earth people were to those they called 'friends'. He may not tell anything... or tell Stephen she had asked... "No... no, that's all. I will tell him you called, and relay the information. Thank you for calling."

Gonzalez began to log off, then stopped. He looked at M'reer through the viewscreen. "You got something on your mind, but I'll be damned if I know what it is. If it's about Steve-o, you better ask."

*What WAS it about these humans that gave them such empathy?* she wondered suddenly.

"Well, its simply that I think he has a lot of... things... in his background... things that are bothering him and he doesn't seem to want to talk about them... or explain them." she said.

"Stephen was rather close-mouthed, sometimes too damn much for his own good. Did he say something...?" Gonzalez asked, concerned.

"He was hurt today in a confrontation," she replied. "He was wearing his vest, so he wasn't seriously injured. Took a nasty blow to the head, though... and in his confused state... he called for someone named Julia..."

Gonzalez looked at her. "Jesus...well, you better know about this, seeing as you're his partner. He and his wife are divorced. It wasn't a pretty battle, and he lost quite a lot before...and after the court brouhaha."

"Why?" she asked, knowing something of human divorce.

His voice dropped low. "He shot and killed his own son, Michael, in a tragic accident."

Her eyes widened. "That's it... that's the other name he mentioned. He said, 'Julia. I'm so sorry about Mike...' Well... I guess it must have been hard on him." she said weakly.

"He was drunk. He had been promoted the day before, and he was out late, getting blitzed. He was walking up the drive to his house, when his kid jumped out, intending to surprise him. Mikey had been playing with his friends. He had a box that looked like a toy bomb. What the hell did he know, he was only 5..." Gonzalez swallowed. "Next thing that happens, Julia and I run out there...I was a friend of the family as well...and Steve's standing over his kid, his service revolver out...Mikey's laying back on the pavement...this look of wonder on his face. Like the kid was surprised, and was still waiting for the punchline of some joke Steve told him.

"Steve shot him once, right between the eyes. Seems the beer didn't affect his aim at all. Just his judgement." He coughed, then continued, "Julia never forgave or forgot Steve's murder of their son. She reamed him in court, painting an impressive and believable portrait of Stephen Hawke as thoughtless father. Steve didn't say much during the trial, he just looked at his hands. He never stopped looking at his hands. Even when he was booted out of the force, he walked out of the station after turning in his badge and gun...just looking at his damned hands."

M'reer winced in horror as Gonzalez's tale progressed. She nodded, and looked back at the couch to make sure Hawke was still asleep. He was.

"Thank you for telling me. It clears up a lot of confusion on my part. We'd better wrap this up before he wakes."

"Got it. I'll fax the rap sheet on the stuff he needed, then kill the transcript of the call." He looked at her, and she felt this odd feeling go between them. They both were alike in some ways. And they both had Hawke as a partner. "Listen...the person Hawke is hardest on is himself. He hasn't touched a drop of alcohol since Michael. He told me once it tasted like Michael's blood. You can guess how THAT is."

"Yes... well, thank you for calling. I have to be going. I'll tell him you called." Suddenly she was anxious to end the conversation. It was making her feel more and more uneasy.

Somehow, he got the message, sending the sheet and logging off without another word. No words were needed, she felt. She looked again, wondering what he was dreaming about. It was something abhorrent to consider happening in her own race, where life was so precious, and she figured their two races were similar in that respect. *Suppose your mate killed YOUR son?* an unbidden voice rose up, making her skin crawl on her bones...

She shook off the feeling and went into her room, gathering up the ingredients for a poultice to apply to his head wound. She mixed it up quickly, and gently applied it to the wound as he slept. When she finished, she wiped her hands and went back to her room, lying down to think... and falling asleep in the middle of her thoughts.

She dreamed little, chaotic images resolving finally into a single image... She/Hawke was walking up the drive, then saw a blur to the left. Don't think, just shoot the one with the bomb... Then a child's voice, confused...."Daddy?"

She woke, her heart pounding, her body suddenly ice-cold. How was she seeing this? Then, she heard someone stumbling around in the kitchen. Hawke, she guessed.

M'reer rose slowly from the bed and crept to the door and peered around the doorframe.

Stephen was shaking out two pills from a bottle marked 'Aspirin' and swallowed them, chasing it down with a glass of water. He pulled a grungy mass from his pocket, the smell of sewer-muck drifting to her nose. As she watched, he began to pick it apart, the muck pulled away to reveal a gleam of dirty silver. She watched Stephen clean the object to reveal a small, shiny laserdisc. He started to turn, walking towards her room.

She considered racing back to the bed and feigning sleep, but then she thought, *Oh, what's the difference?* She simply stood there in the doorway. As he turned, he saw her standing there and stopped abruptly, a look of surprise on his face. "How's your head?" she asked.

"Urgh. Better. Got a whanging headache. Sorry if I woke you up," he said apologetically, in a soft voice she did not think he was capable of. "I just found this. This was inside the drainpipe. The clogged one at the apartment, ya know?"

"Yes, I know... I took the liberty of putting something on your head wound... it's... it's a healing poultice. Used quite a bit on my planet. Never tried it on a human so I don't know if it will work..." Her words trailed away. "So, what is that thing, anyway?"

"It's some sort of microdisc. Used commonly in answering machines, it also is used widely in 'special operations,' as we like to call it. I need to get a reader for it, but can't do that for another 5 hours. I'll just have to wait. There might be something useful on it."

He went to a mirror, looking at the head wound gingerly. "Well, even though it don't smell like Vapo-rub, it seems to be working. I think I'd have a humongus egg of a bump on my head if I was back home..." he said, a note of respect.

She shrugged. "We're used to treating our own wounds while we're on the hunt..." She paused, then went to the kitchen for a drink.

"Sometimes...I wish I could do stuff like that. You know, heal myself while on the job. I..." his voice faltered, and then he continued, "...sometimes get hurt on the job."

M'reer looked at Stephen carefully, a cup held in her hands. "We can't always heal everything... sometimes we just have to do what we can, and bide our time, and let our wounds heal themselves. They always do." She turned and went toward her room...

"M'reer?" he asked, suddenly worried. She turned, a query in her eyes. "Could you...come here for a sec?" he asked.

She plunked her cup down on a nearby table and walked over to him. She stood in front of him, her hands on her hips. "Yeah, what you need, Hawke?" she asked.

"I just...some wounds don't heal. Not the physical ones, but...some things scar deeper than others." He looked down. "There are some things I'd like to tell you, but...I don't know if I can. I know you don't like me very much, and I hate to give you a reason to hate me..."

"I never said I didn't like you...true, I didn't have much patience for you at first, and I still have to work on that... but then, none of my people are very long on patience, nor do they tolerate having to work with others very well. That takes us some time to get used to. But I never said I didn't like you." She poked a claw at his chest, being careful of his bruises. "Wounds heal. They may leave scars, but they heal. Remember that." She arched an eyebrow at him and smiled lightly. She turned around and went back to her cup, taking it back to the kitchen to refill it.

When she turned around, she saw Hawke walk up to her, smiling sheepishly. "I guess I haven't been that easy to work with, eh?" He placed a hand on her shoulder, an easy smile on his face.

When she felt it, she almost didn't know what it was. It felt like an electric shock between them, her body flexing slightly as she felt it pass between them. He felt it too, for his face had suddenly become startled, confused. She looked at his face and saw that it had changed somehow. She was sure it was still the same, but her perceptions had...intensified it, seeing deeper into the face than before. The hidden feelings of remorse, discipline to protect his secrets, and nagging fear seems to now practically leap off his face, leaving her wondering how she could have ever missed it before...

She looked closely for a second... then shook off the feeling and clapped him hard on the back. She laughed loudly to hide her uneasiness. "You're okay, Steve." She grabbed her cup and headed back to her room.

"You're pretty cool yourself," she heard him say, before the door closed.

She sat down suddenly, to steady herself. The strangest feelings and sensations were traveling trhough her mind, all having to do with Stephen Hawke. It was crazy, almost like...

Her eyes widened, and she almost dropped the cup.

*Kar'Lin?!*

Impossible. The Bonding was something that happened between two of her own race, something that was love and devotion and committment all put together. What happened was...what WAS it? If not Kar'Lin, what could it have been?

"Ridiculous!" she growled impatiently, annoyed with herself. She drained the cup and slammed it down on the table by the bed. She climbed under the light covers and tried to sleep.

Sleep came hard. Whenever she thought she would drift off to sleep, her mind would whisper Hawke's name, calling up feelings of warmth and excitement, and sleep would be lost. Only by focusing her mind on sleep as it were a combat goal was she able to stave off the unbidden whispers and fall into the oblivion of exhausted sleep...

She awoke only a few hours later. She glanced at the clock, and cursed quietly under her breath. She reached lazily for the cup by the bed and realized she had emptied it before going to bed. Quietly, she went to the door and eased it open. Hawke appeared to be deeply asleep. She crept quietly past his sleeping form toward the kitchen, planning to mix together a sleeping potion to end her restlessness...

She walked back to her room to grab a few herbs to help it go down, then stopped by Hawke's place on the couch. She did not ever know why she stopped. Maybe she thought he was faking sleep and wanted to be sure... His face was peaceful in its repose, his body relaxed under the sheet. She found herself looking at him closely... and before she was aware of it, she was reaching out her hand to touch his bare arm. At the contact, she stifled a sigh that rose in her like a warm updraft.

She quickly pulled away, not wanting to wake him, for how could she explain herself, up in the middle of the night, leaning over his bed? She shook her head and turned to go into the kitchen... but like a hand reached out and held her fast, she turned back, and just stood watching him breath. His face looked so young, much younger than it did while he was awake. The muscles in his jaw were relaxed, and watched as his bottom lip puffed out while he breathed. He looked vulnerable, soft... She turned away quickly, mixed her potion in the kitchen, and quietly tiptoed back to her door...

She sat down, preparing to drink, and then she was aware of her heart. It was beating quickly, madly, in her chest. She abruptly brought the potion to her lips, drinking greedily, trying to stop the submerged feelings before they arose and became visible, and she was not sure she was ready to see them. *Kar'Lin,* she thought, and a low moan that was thick and vibrating escaped her lips...

She put the cup on the table and grasped her head in her hands, trying to block out the thoughts racing through her head. She lay back and waited for the potion to take affect.

*Father... I think I'm losing my mind... is this what normally happens when you work closely with someone? I'm confused.... this can't be happening. It is impossible... yet.... I don't know. Talk to me, Father. Tell me what is happening to me. Talk to me in my dreams...* The thoughts drifted away as she fell asleep.

Before dreamless sleep claimed her, she heard her Father say, *Kar'lin is all that you know, all that you need to know...as it bonds heart and mind, you should bond soul and self to know. It is not a physical experience, for physical bodies are only vehicles. It is a joining of what drives you and makes you who you are. It is Kar'Lin, it is

Completeness,* he whispered in her ear.

In her other ear, she heard Hawke's voice, "Forgive me..." These words pursued her into sleep.

***

Stephen awoke first, with only half-remembered dreams. Something about a hunt of some sort. He had been completely naked, running through a dense jungle, after something that was twice his size... He pulled out the half-empty bottle of brandy, then dropped it in the wastebasket. "Never...again," he told himself solemnly.

M'reer woke slowly, her mind sticky from the deep sleep the potion had induced. She had vague dream-images in her head, but couldn't remember what they were. Rising slowly, almost painfully, she padded softly to the door toward the kitchen....

She saw Stephen standing over the wastebasket, then she noticed something odd. She had been walking rather...stiff-backed. Almost a strut. A Stepehn Hawke walk. A snatch of dream arose in her mind, about a long street flanked by skyscrapers. She knew, somehow, that this place was called New York. She also realized that the odd thoghts in her mind were because they had spent the night in each other's dreams...

She clutched her head in both hands, as if trying to squash a headache, and walked to the kitchen to get a drink, and try and wake up somewhat. She looked over at Stephen, carefully trying to remain detatched, shielding her emotions. "How ya doin'?", she asked.

He looked up, and smiled, the sight of it easing her headache of alien images. "Doing pretty good. I think the computer has finished chewing through that disc we found. It had a rather extensive encryption scheme."

"Well, let's wait till it's finished chewing and see what it spits out," she replied, coming back to the living room with a cupful of something that looked like weak coffee, but smelled horrible. She gulped it with a grimace and sat down near the computer, watching carefully.

Stephen started to type a few commands into the computer, then waited a few seconds.

-+ File follows +-

Three weeks ago, I found about the Janitor Plan. They have set up something so horrible, I can scarcely comprehend it.

The whole race has been lying to the League. In fact, I have strong evidence that this race as a whole are pathological liars. And...they are delving into the forbidden practice of gengineering on sentients, including their own race. The facility that they are using to keep the thing fenced in is still heavily fortified. I figured correctly that its base was not at the epicenter of the kill zone, but underground at the edge of the station.

Knock at the door. Just a second, I'll stash this and answer it.

-+ Tape Ends +-

M'reer sat back and crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowed. "Nothing gets me madder than leading me on a wild goose chase," she muttered. Looking over at Stephen, she looked at him as if to say "Now what?"

Stephen frowned, then typed a search pattern for Janitor Plan. He found it.

To: Director

From: Scientist, Main

We have finished our tests. Baby seems to have no problem eliminating any of the League races we have examined so far. There are only three races left, that of the BlackArms, the Monkeys, or the Strays. We have not found any covert reason to bring them to our planet for testing, but rest assured we will find one. The Janitor should be ready with two months, and we shall be, once again, alone in the universe.

The room was quiet... until Stephen heard the sound of a low growl. It sounded like the same type of growl that a cat makes just before it pounces.

It was M'reer.

Her eyes had opened wide, her pupils dilated so large they appeared to swallow her whole eye. He'd never seen her this... enraged.

He whispered, "M'reer...?"

She did not respond... could not. Her lips curled in a sneer, exposing shiny sharp teeth. She whispered something under her breath, but it was in her language and he could not understand. Suddenly, she got up and went into her room, where he heard sounds like bags being loaded... she was readying for a hunt. A big one.

He opened the door without thought, looking in at her. "M'reer...what are you doing?"

She tossed him a look that was cold, so cold it sent chills through him. "Enough sneaking, enough investigating. We hunt, and we hunt tonight. When it's caught.... we go after the rest of them."

He walked over to her, standing in front of her. "Are you going to listen to what I have to say, M'reer Ral'Mar?"

he said quietly.

She turned and pushed him away from her savagely. "No more talk! I'm tired of talk! We get this over with now! No more waiting! We can't afford it! No one can!" She turned and continued with her preparations.

"Do you think you will go up against the whole damned race? That's who we're up against! We have simply got to make sure we're looking in the right place..." He caught one arm. "Dammit, M'reer, will you just riyk di hur'kii?"

She turned, her fist swinging, catching him in the face, knocking him back. Stephen was already tumbling over the bed to land stunned on the far side before she recognized that he had said LISTEN TO ME in her own language. Then she felt the tiny ache in her hand, and she came to her senses...

She stared for a moment, amazed at what he'd said... "You made me hurt my hand!" she yelled. She sat down on the bed, rubbing her hand and panting. Her face was a combination of pain and confusion, anger and sadness. She looked almost human.

"I won't be alone. Once the others find out.... they can't do this. I can't allow it.... and we can't stand around talking about. We have to begin to DO something... for the first time since this whole stupid thing started..." she raged till her breath left her and she sat quietly, gasping for breath.

Then she felt him, close to her, and a sudden stab in her mind she felt when she realized she had struck Hawke, and before it eclipsed her anger, she felt him hold on to her tightly, arms around her, and the emotion welled up in her, her body shaking, and she was glad he said nothing. His silence was kind, forgiving. He...forgave her, after she had lashed out in anger. It was almost too much to bear, but she could feel strength flowing from Hawke to her...

She bowed her head, ashamed. "I feel like a fool," she whispered. "They almost succeeded.... in killing me." She looked up at Stephen with a look of horror. "They could've done it, couldn't they? I'd have been shamed.... in the eyes of my people. I can't....." Her eyes started to narrow once more. "How can you take this so calmly?! I don't understand any of this..."

"M'reer..." he whispered, and he looked deep into his eyes. He continued, "We're not dead yet. We can still do this. I'm going to tell you the truth, I'm scared. NO ONE ON THIS PLANET WANTS US. But you and I have to stick together. We can't lose our heads or they'll have no problem with finishing the job!" His voice was thick with emotion. "I can't explain why I feel what I feel. I just know that if I lose you, I'll lose a part of myself...all over again. I can't take that kind of pain again..."

She looked at him, and her face took a look of concern. "Don't make me too important, Hawke. Who knows how this... how anything, is going to turn out. All I know is that I am willing to give my life to protect my world, and my people. I am willing to die. And if I do, I'll have no regret. Wounds heal... remember that." She pulled away and began unpacking her things.

"M'reer.." he said quietly. "What does...Kal'rin...mean?" He saw her suddenly freeze, her back to him.

"Kar'Linn," she whispered. Whirling around, she looked astonished. "How do you know about that? Why do you ask?"

"Because...ever since last night...I've been hearing it in my mind. Every time I look at you, every time we touch... I hear it whisper in my mind. The feelings I feel at that word are the strongest and most bittersweet I've ever felt in my life. But I don't know what it MEANS, I've never heard that word before in my entier life!"

For just a moment, almost too quick to catch, Stephen thought he saw a flash in her eyes. Not the same one he was used to, the gleam in her eye for the hunt, but something different... something to do with him... with Kar'Linn...

Then, it was gone. She drew heavy blinds across the emotion in her eyes, dousing the glimmer. "It means nothing. It's just some kind of... of auditory hallucination. Forget about it."

He was standing in front of her, before she could react. "Don't give me that. You lie like old people breakdance." He grabbed her wrist, and then stopped, listening, his eyes focused on her. "If it's hallucination...why do I feel it whenever I touch you??"

She felt the stirring she had felt before, stronger with Stephen's awareness of what it was, a word with no meaning to him, but he was under its grip already. She could feel the emotion build in her, causing her senses to sharpen, to take in the sight and sound and smell of Stephen Hawke. It was a force more powerful than she had ever imagined.

She looked at him, seemingly transfixed by his stare. "It is... the Bonding," she said simply.

His face moved closer to hers, and then she felt their minds touch, hesitantly. *...M'reer? M'reer, I can FEEL YOU...* she felt in her mind, Hawke's mind-voice.

He heard her speaking in his head... but yet, not speaking... it was more than that... she was in his mind. He could almost feel her walking her fingers over the library of his memories. *Yes.... we are in each other minds. We have been for a while. Didn't you feel it in your dreams last night?*

She felt his mind look back, over images that had suddenly become clear. He UNDERSTOOD her. *Dear God... is that what your hunt is for you?? It seems so savage, but so clear, so PURE...*

She traced her mind back to her dreams, and she felt his own images become clear. His world was very corrupt in its own way, in ways she had not considered, and his New York had created Stephen Hawke, a man driven not by personal gain or safety, but for an all-encompassing need to create...JUSTICE. To make things RIGHT where they had gone so wrong, to set to innocent free, to punish the guilty. She KNEW this, finally...

She nodded silently, understanding who and what he was in one blinding flash. The images she got as she rummaged through his mind were somewhat garbled. Street scenes, images of his with his friend Gonzalez, sitting in some dark place they called a tavern, laughing... images of his wife and son... there were a lot of these. Snatches of noise... screeching tires as they chased a stolen car down the streets of the city... honking horns... a loud, bellowing red-faced man who they called "Chief".... music.... loud, droning, pounding music from passing cars.... She broke the link and quickly walked away.

"M'reer...? What's wrong?" he asked, in desparation.

"Nothing," she answered quickly... maybe too quickly. "See, since we're working together, we have bonded. That's what happens with my people. It will help us keep in contact when we're separated...." It was obvious that she was lying, trying to hide the real implications of the Bonding.

He stepped behind her, turned her to face him. The look of tight control on her face caused him to do something he somehow knew was possible, but unheard of. The kiss was soft, but firmly placed, unyielding, directly on her

lips. Her body arched as she felt the powerful sensations roll over her, her mind opening wide even as she felt his open to her. Her arms wrapped around him, to support herself, as a mixture of surrender and passion filled her mind. And HE felt it too.

As the kiss lingered, the images filled her mind, flying through her thoughts like cards, shuffled and thrown to the wind, scattering carelessly. It was almost too much for her mind to handle... the images were coming too fast, the sound growing too loud, too confusing... Her arms tightened around his neck... and suddenly the images stopped. Like a switch had been turned off... they just ceased. All she saw were flickering images of herself... their first meeting, the days spent in the apartment.... many images of the morning she thoughtlessly did her morning calesthenics in the front room.... and a refrain from what she assumed was a song from Earth... a gentle guitar and one phrase repeated over... "The wind cries Mary."

"Who is this person you are thinking about in this song?" she asked, almost unconsciously, when the kiss broke.

"It's...about a woman. A woman the singer has fallen in love with." A pause, then a low whisper, "It's...it's you, M'reer."

"The name is similar to mine..." she murmured. Suddenly, she broke away, unsure. "I'm not sure if this... if this is a wise thing," she stammered.

"We never were much for doing what was ultimately good for either of us...were we, M'reer Ral'Mar?" Stephen whispered, his husky voice creating strange feelings to course through her mind.

"But.... we're of different races. VERY different races... we haven't known each other long... we seem to have nothing in common... and just think of how we treated one another when we first met! We hated each other! We.. we were horrible..." She paused, then continued. "I'm just not sure if this is what we think it is.. or if its just glands calling to glands--Alien glands at that."

"We didn't know each other then. And it feels more like souls calling to each other, minds calling to each other." The voice of Stephen, the words of her father. She felt a sudden yearning towards him, as he said, "I think...I loved you from the first time I saw you. I just could not recognize it."

Her eyes flared. "You did NOT!" she said loudly. "You detested me... the idea of sharing quarters with me was completely abhorrent to you and don't you try and tell me otherwise! I was just a dirty, bloodthirsty Stray to you.... and you were an overgrown, lumbering hairless ape to me.... I don't know what has happened here.. or even if it has. And I don't know whether we should follow it or pretend it hasn't happened... everything's so confusing right now it's driving me insane! Nothing is what it seems! Nothing!" She clutched her head in her hands and walked toward the kitchen.

"Don't you see?" Stephen said, following her. "We were trapped, imprisoned by our own, pre-set perceptions! We made judgements of each other before we even KNEW each other! All I know is that the longer we stay apart from each other, the more painful it becomes. Forget that we're two different species!" He stoped behind her. "Close your eyes and open your HEART. Tell me what you see then."

She paused, then reached into the refrigerator and began rummaging. "I'm not going to be some kind of substitute for Julia, or your son."

She felt the warmth shut off, his mind betraying outrage and pain. "Why...why you calculating, unfeeling witch!" She felt herself jolted around to face him. "Is that what you think I'm looking for? A SUBSTITUTE??!" He raised one hand, held it menacingly...then dropped it as the anger drained from his eyes, to reveal mortal pain... The color drained from his face, and he backed away, whispering only, "How...could you...?"

Her eyes sparkled. "That's right! Why don't YOU listen to YOUR heart?! You don't like me and you never did! Quit trying to project your feelings for your ex-wife on me! I'm not her! You don't love ME, and I don't love YOU! Okay?! Does it have to be any clearer than this?" She slammed the refrigerator door shut and stalked past him to the computer. "Now, why don't you put some of that energy into wrapping up this case?!"

When she looked up again, she saw the front door closing, footsteps retreating down the hall. She felt none of the supposed satisfaction for exposing him, only a loneliness more intense than anything she'd ever felt before. Hawke had drawn completely away from her.

She sat, trembling, trying to calm herself. She had only done what she had to... she couldn't allow him to get to close to her. Her kind never lived long. Their lives were just too hazardous. He couldn't have dealt with it. Suddenly she lifted her chin and yowled at the ceiling, like a mother lion who's cub has died. She picked up the cup sitting next to the computer and hurled it at the door, shattering it. "WHY?!?!?" she screamed when she reached her room. "This isn't fair! My people can deal with my kind of life! This.. human, he can't! Why did this have to happen, Father?! It's not fair! Not fair!"

*You whine like a farm animal,* her father's voice replied coldly.

*Fine! So I whine! But it's the truth and you know it! He has gone through too much to be able to deal with life with a woman like me! It's not fair, and I won't do it to him! And if it means making him hate me, so be it!* She flopped down on the mattress and waited for his response, like a petulant child.

*Not fair, you say...tell me, child, who is the better? the one who responds to the blows and pitfalls of life...or the one who stops, and sits, and whines about how unfair life is? Do you think that he doesn't understand, as he has already seen deep into your mind? Do you think he can't see your fear?*

*Then tell me why he became angry at my response to him? If he can see so far into my mind, why did he not know why, what the real meaning behind it was? Tell me that* she cried mentally, growing more and more desperate.

*His feelings are genuine. if they were not pure in his heart, they would not have been brought out. There would have been no Bonding. Do you know of any Bonding between those who were incapable of fulfilling that Bond?*

She sat quietly, contemplating what he said. *I... I'm not ready for this. Why now? Why not later, when this is finished? Why not next week or next month or next year? Why now, when nothing is clear, nothing is what it appears...*

*Perhaps it was to assure you of something that WAS as it appeared? That you would need such strength to carry you through this time of trial? To give you strength when you need it, now more than ever?*

She realized what her father said was true. *Is it too late? Where... where is he?*

*He is above you. On the roof. Grieving for another one that he loves and is now dying to him.*

She jumped up and quickly climbed the stairs to the roof...

She burst open the door, to see a huddled figure 20 feet away. It was Hawke, and as she saw him, visions of his son's funeral flowed through her, bringing with them a pain she had never felt before and hoped never to feel again...a pain of such magnitude, she wondered what kind of man did not entertain suicide at the force of such grief. Hawke couldn't, of course. In her examining of his mind, the thought to take his own life had never entered it.

As she searched his mind, in her confusion and guilt she had forgotten that the link ran both ways, that as her mind linked with his, so too was the link between her mind and his....

She saw him stiffen, look up at her, his eyes brimming with tears. "M'reer..." It was a last attempt to reach her before she was lost to him.

She tried to think of words to explain, to comfort him, but they wouldn't come. Instead, she breathed deeply, and he saw her body physically relax as the curtain across her mind and her emotions were drawn away, opening herself up to him...

Then she felt him reach for her, and she felt his arms wrap around her, tightly, as she felt the pain and the fear slowly bleed from his mind...and hers. The feeling of harsh emptiness replaced the pain, but she accepted it for what it was, a mental cleasing of an infection. A re-opening of an old wound, but this time it would heal cleanly, without the poison that has festered inside for years...

She felt him cling to her, as she allowed him to feel the emotions she had tried so hard to conceal. "I was trying to protect you... and myself. This is... very unexpected," she whispered. "It is not fair to you or me to hold it back any longer. Perhaps this is the only thing that IS as it seems..."

"M'reer...just hold on to me for awhile...don't let go," he whispered, his voice ragged with expectancy...

She tightened her arms around him, supporting him. "I shall... as long as you want me to..."

"I..I do love you. It's nothing that has to do with anything else, other than you." He said, trying to explain the depths of his feelings, but she could already tell without his words.

She placed a finger across his lips, stifling his words. "Shhhhhh..." she whispered. She pointed to first his head, then hers, reminding him that they no longer needed words between them. "Wounds heal...." she murmured. "All wounds heal...." She held him closer...

*I believe that...now,* she heard the mental whisper, and the shadow of a passion for her that mirrored her own, growing feelings...

After Hawke managed to pull himself together, he let M'reer lead him back to the room, unwilling to pull away from her. If someone had told him this was going to happen, he would have laughted in their face, but the incredible feelings he felt for her were unmistakable. His wife would have thought the whole thing rather disgusting, but for once, he didn't really care what her opinion would have been. She was his Partner. That was all that mattered.

As they walked inside, and she turned slightly to look at him, she saw him...watching her face carefully, with intense curiosity. "What are you looking at, Stephen?"

"I just..." he looked down, and she was aware that he was blushing slightly. "I never knew...how beautiful you were. I guess I was too blind to see before..."

She smiled slightly. "It was because someone else was in your eyes." She led him to the couch and ordered him to sit. She went into the kitchen and began putting... something... together. He assumed it was another of her strange potions. Every now and then she would turn her head toward him, and smile...

"What are you making in there...?" he asked, aware he was assuming again and wanted to know for sure...

She looked back. "Relax... it's just coffee..." She smiled again and went back to her work. "If someone had told me, when we first met, that we would end up even being friends, much less... even closer... I would have thought them crazy," she called over her shoulder.

"You know something? I was thinking the same thing." he thought a minute, then asked, "What do you think we should do now? There's that base that agent was talking about. I was thinking..." he swallowed, then continued, "...this time...we do it your way. There really isn't much we could do if we used my methods now. We know where this... Janitor...goes to ground. But I don't think my methods are sufficient now."

She turned to look at him in amazement. "My way?" Suddenly, it was as if she had drunk the entire pot of coffee she had just made. She raced into the living room and began stalking back and forth across the rug in front of Stephen, putting together a plan for the hunt.

"We go after dark," she said in a low voice. "And stay behind me! I don't want you getting hurt. I don't think you're used to 'my methods', as you put it..." Her eyes had that familiar glimmer that he knew so well. This was what she had been waiting for.

He then said the words she most wanted to hear. "No argument. The ball's in your court now." He looked at his watch, then said, "we have about 7 hours before dark..."

"Great! That will give us plenty of time to prepare... put together any supplies we may need, which won't be many, limber up, center myself... plenty of time. Plenty..." She went into the kitchen to get a drink. She came back, and sat on the carpet in front of Stephen. "Are you ready for this?" she asked.

"I'll have to be. I'm not used to just going after something in this way. You'll have to show me what to do this time." He paused, then moved closer to her. "It's funny, I...I never really placed my trust so completely in anyone for so long..." He then, without a second thought, kissed her gently. The contact of his lips to hers brought on emotion, swift and potent...

She pulled back after a moment or two, smiled, and watched his expression. "So... how was it, kissing a Stray?" she grinned.

"A Stray?" he made an exaggerated motion of looking around, then turned back to her. "Sorry, M'reer Ral'Mar...don't see any Strays here. But kissing you..." his face turned soft. "It was...more than I'd dreamed." She felt his hands on her shoulder, warm, and his scent was suddenly intoxicating...

She felt her curiosity getting the better of her.... she was embarrassed to ask... but yet, she wanted more than anything to know... that was something that no one had ever mentioned, not even back home. "I... I have to ask," she began, trying to make the question seem clinical. "How do ... how do humans.. how.. how do you mate?" she asked, trying not to look too embarrassed.

Her doubts and hesitations were silenced by his next words. "Would you like to find out now...?" he asked, and she instantly knew what he meant. The idea of Hawke's body against hers...

Her eyes grew large... she felt embarrasment, but yet the offer intrigued her... she knew all about how her kind courted and mated, but another race... she wondered how it would differ from her peoples way... "Well... how long does it take?" she asked, realizing how naiive she sounded, but it was too late. The words were out. She smiles sheepishly...

"Well, it usually takes about...two or three hours, I suppose," he answered, trying to calm her. Her body seemed and the verge of bolting, and he drew her closer to him, his hands along her hips.

She tensed when he touched her, but she willed herself to relax... it couldn't be as detailed or lengthy as the mating rituals of her world... what harm could it do? Not knowing what to expect, she looked at him, confused. "I don't know what to do... I've never even... well, not even with one of my own, much less another race..." she spluttered, not quite knowing what to say or do.

"Let your instincts guide you. And let me know if something does or does not please you." He moved gently to the floor, then kissed her again, with more passion this time. She felt her body pull back, then push forward into him, as the sensations he was creating in her causing her body to sway gently...

She broke away after what seemed eternity, and laughed nervously. "It feels like one of my energy potions." Swallowing, she looked at him, seriously. "You make me feel.... like no one has made me feel... not even the anticipation of the hunt has done... this," she said quietly, smiling.

"I want to give you pleasure, M'reer. Will you allow me?" he asked, softly, waiting expectantly...

She reached up and softly stroked his cheek. "Just... just go slowly. Don't surprise me too much... after all, I'm going into this blind. I have to follow your lead in this," she whispered.

"I promise I will go slow." He began to unbutton his shirt with one hand, as the other stroked her face. As he removed his shirt, his kisses began again, on her lips, up her cheek to kiss and nip one earlobe lightly. As she felt the teeth, she inhaled sharply, as a pinprick of pleasure shot through her body.

She closed her eyes in pleasure and wonder... she had never experienced, or even heard about, anything like this. She half moaned, half giggled, as her hands reached up instinctively and ran her nails over his back lightly...

His hands moved along her back as well, then along her sides, his touch along her hips causing her to move, shifting slightly, to allow him to touch more of her. She felt her leathers slowly tightening, as if they were shrinking on her...

She wriggled slightly. "Do.. do you have a pattern that you follow? Or do you just... do?" she asked, feeling slightly stupid, but wanting to know...

"Yes...and no. We feel the body must be...prepared for sex. To be aroused enough to draw out the most pleasure." As one hand moved along the swell of her breast, she held her breath as she felt fingers caressing her through her leathers...

She gasped slightly, and felt her body becoming more relaxed. She knew that he wouldn't do anything to upset her or hurt her... and that this might be a wonderful experience... Her head fell backward, and she exhaled slowly, her eyes closed, waiting in anticipation for what would come next...

She felt his kisses grace her exposed neck, she imagined he could feel her breath rasping through her voice box as he kissed her, hands seemingly everywhere along her body, sensing where to touch and stroke and caress to draw out this desire she did not think existed. Her body itched under her clothing, feeling trapped, confined...

As he continued to kiss her neck, she lifted her head and whispered in his ear. "Clothing... does it stay on, or come off?" She hoped he would say off. Her leathers felt very hot and constricting, and she didn't want to do the wrong thing by removing them...

"If they feel uncomfortable," he whispered, his breath along her neck, "...then take them off, by all means..." A lick of fire seemed to burst into life inside her, a tiny center of tension, growing slowly...

She sat up slightly and began removing her leather clothing, her actions somewhat distracting Hawke. He paused to watch her undress, and as she felt his eyes on her, something seemed to awaken inside her. This seemed like the awakening that was sometimes mentioned on her world around the time of the mating rituals. Her clothing removed, she sat back, and one hand reached out and traced a finger down Stephen's throat and across his chest. "What now?' she asked, her voice breathless and husky.

"We make sure your body is ready..." He began to move over her body, his hands along the contours of her hips, fingers traveling through the dense fur, causing a sensation that made his previous movements seem bland and dull. She began to wish she had removed her clothing earlier... When his lips kissed her neck, then began to move down, she felt her breath come out in a thick sigh, her hands flexing in time with the pulses of excitement that were initiated by his gentle touch...

He continued to kiss and fondle his way across her body... it was amazing. He found spots on her body, individual areas that needed only to be brushed against to cause her to hiss in her breath sharply. She wondered why she had never known about them before...

She felt his hands trace along her breasts, caressing them gently, and she arched her back as she felt his fingers move along the tips of her nipples, ever so lightly as to barely feel their touch. She felt her body tighten, preparing, but as to what she only had little knowledge...

The feeling was very similar to that of the hunt, but yet, different... more relaxed. She shut her eyes tightly, trying to link with Hawke's mind, to find out what was going through his mind at this moment....

She touched briefly, finding a few errant thoughts of *She is so beautiful, what could have plagued my mind to not see that...yes, she does like that, hoped she would...take your time, Hawke...* Then she felt his pleasure, melding with her own, her hands comng up to hold him, tightly, as she thought her body would explode from the ecstacy she felt for both of them...

As always, she forgot that when she touched his mind, he could also touch hers. She quickly drew back from her mental caress of him, hoping he wouldn't see her naivete.... Quietly she whispered, "I... it's different... but so far... I like it fine...."

He seemed not to notice her hesitation, only smiling warmly at her, then bent to kiss her neck, as she felt his mouth moving along her neck, she began to yearn for him. His hands were moving all over her body, with no urgency, arousing her...

She put her arms around him, her fingers lightly dancing up his spine to sink into the thick blackness of his hair. She was suddenly aware of a low growl, deep in her throat... almost inaudible, but she could feel it... she wondered why she had never made a noise like that before. She didn't think about it long, as she felt him kiss his way down her chest. She grasped his hair and threw her head back, the growling getting louder...

As she felt his mouth on one soft breast, sucking gently, the growl of need burst free of her, her body given over to an incredible HEAT that rose within her, her body moving in ways she did not command it to. Her eyes were open, wide, looking out into nothing as all she could feel were his hands and his lips, and then his tongue as it caressed the nipple slightly...

She had not expected it... and had not realized that it could feel so... so wonderful. Her breath began to come in short, steep gasps. She wriggled slightly with desire under his touch. "WHen... when do you know... that it's... that it's time?" she asked between pants, not really expecting an answer. He seemed as caught up in the moment as she...

His face turned up to meet her, and he smiled a smile she did not recognize. "Why, you'll tell me yourself..." he whispered. his mouth then moved lower along her body, not missing a single inch of her, his hands still caressing her breasts, rubbing her nipples, feeling her body moving slowly to its own rhythms... Then she felt his mouth moving cloer to her sex, and her mind tried to warn, *Don't let him touch you there, you could not handle it, could not remain M'reer Ral...* That was when she felt his mouth on her moist sex, kissing it lightly, and what she felt then threatened to clear out her reason, leaving only her anmal desires...

The only coherent thought she had before the desire in her took over was to remove her hands from his body, so she wouldn't hurt him... Her back arched under his touch, and the low growl suddenly turned into a yowl, loud and thick with lust. Her hands reached down to the carpet beneath them, her claw-like nails digging into the floor, leaving long, jagged tears in the rug. Her eyes became wide, her pupils so large that the green around them was almost obscured. Her head went back as another yowl ripped from her throat...

At the sounds of her pleasure, his only response was to increase his attentions, his tongue probing her lightly, licking up the thick amber juices that were now flowing freely, sucking lightly and playing with her engorged clit, red and sensitive, her body beginning to writhe in the unheard-of ecstacy that was driving her body beyond any sensation she knew before...

Her head whipped from side to side, her hands balling into fists to strike the floor under her. Between the groans and yowls, she was moaning in her own language... She reached down and ran her claws up his arms, trying not to be too rough, but still drawing thin blood as she did. She sat up slightly, taking his head in her hands and pulling him up to see her. Her eyes were heavy, and she continued to speak to him in her native tongue. He struggled to remember the little he knew of it...

He was still able to reach for the translator, turning it on, as he looked into her wild, smoky eyes, her heaving chest, as she took in great breaths...

His eyes darted from her face to the translator and back, trying to decipher her words, which were so thick with passion they were somewhat unintelligible to begin with... As he looked at the translator, words began to form...

"The preparation is complete. The time is now.... quickly, before it's gone. It must be now..."

Then she felt his body move against her, whispering hotly in her ear, "I knew you would know..." and then she felt his hard member moving against her clitoris, the excruciating pleasure so great her teeth were bared, her breath hissing, mixed with a rumbling growl of lust...

As he moved against her, he thought he saw a slight glimpse of the old M'reer underneath the animal side of her that had been released. Fascinated, somewhat frightened, curious, but more than anything was a look of love and trust. Her breath slowed slightly, and this time she spoke in words he could understand... "Stephen... Stephen..." he heard her call his name close to his ear...

"I am here, and I will never leave," he answered. She then felt him enter her, slowly, carefully, her insides slowly stretching, widening, to admit him. At each flash of pain, Stephen would stop, holding her, waiting until it was past, before moving into her again...

After a few moments, recovering from another twinge of pain, she whispered "On my world, it is done in one quick movement... there is no time to dwell on pain... like the hunt. Then the painful part is over with... and the bonding becomes more.... more enjoyable." He felt her back arch slightly, as her fists clenched, her teeth clenched, her eyes closed tightly, waiting for the pain to cease...

When she felt him completely inside her, his length throbbing in her, he whispered, "On our world we do not try to damage our lovers. We let them get used to the feel..." She was only half-hearing, as the pain/pleasure mved through her, her touch of his hands on her body drawing out the pain slowly. Then, she felt him draw out of her, then plunge in again, her body welcoming him as she felt the pain drain away, to replaced by the most incredible ecstacy she had never known before...

He watched her face carefully as he moved, and felt relieved when the look of pain subsided, and a look of intense pleasure replaced it. She sighed, her breath thick with ecstacy, and he heard her whisper lightly, "The pain... is gone..." Her hips suddenly arched up to meet him as she wrapped her arms around him, her nails digging into his back...

If he noticed, he gave no sign, thrusting into her in long strokes, his hands roaming her back, entangling then in her hair. Her senses were sharpened, her body was writhing, her hunger for this raw pleasure insatiable. She growled as she felt him fill her, over and over...

She felt a wave of tingling pleasure wash over her again and again, feeling like sparks dancing over her body. She lifted his chin with her hands and kissed him deeply, full of desire for him. As she drew back, she reached for him with her mind once more, looking deeply into his eyes. "Join me with your mind, as well as your body... make my pleasure yours..." The tingling feeling increased by double as she felt their minds meld...

She was suddenly aware of the love he held for her, coupled with the need to give her pleasure, and held together with the fierce, unstoppable drive of his own pleasure, fusing to hers, her body now completely in the grip of this sexual force. It was more than she ever thought possible...

As the feelings intensified, she continued to look into his eyes as his pleasure joined with hers, and hers with his, increasing with every movement... She held his gaze the entire time, wanting him to see into her soul through her eyes, as the moment of ecstacy approached...

She could see the intense desire build as he looked boldly into her eyes, hungry for whatever she could give him, and then she felt body tighten, pulling inward, feeling her moment approaching. When it overtook her, she threw her head back, minds together, and cried out as she climaxed, and only felt his drive build higher, instead of releasing, his length thrusting into her faster, harder now...

She felt the pleasure reach its pinnacle, reaching out to grasp her like strong hands, squeezing her. Her breath came shorter, louder, turning into loud gasps...as it hit her, she began to yowl loudly, breathing faster, all the while looking into his eyes...

She felt her Moment slow to a stop, but then with a widening of the yes, she saw another climax build in her body, her mind trying to stave it off, because it would cause her to give everything to him, all the pleasure, her body, her mind, her very SOUL would be given to him, and his to hers...

She tried to slow the onslaught, hold it back... but it was like holding back a flood with stick... it hit her again, harder than the first, and her eyes snapped shut, her head going back as she screamed her pleasure to the ceiling, holding him tightly...

Her caterwaul accompanied her complete submission, as she felt her mind reach out to become one with his, images from his mind spilling out into hers as she felt him explode within her... In the space of a second...M'reer Ral'Mar KNEW Stephen Hawke, as Hawke KNEW Ral'Mar. Completely, totally, irrevocably. Forever.

As she saw into his mind as his moment approached, she wondered why she had waited so long, why she had resisted, been frightened. She cast the thoughts aside as she shared in Stephen's moment of pleasure, joining with him more deeply than she had ever joined with anyone before...

Then as the ecstacy fell away, she felt herself fall back into her body, fur streaked with sweat, and the hooded, smoky look slowly drained from her eyes, her reason returning...so slowly.

She felt relaxed, safe and warm in his arms. Her eyes opened and looked tenderly at Hawke, smiling brightly. "Is it always like that, or was this... different?" she asked.

"God, I hope so..." he whispered, then hugged her tightly. As she clung to him, she heard his mindthought, one last message. *Goodbye, Julia.* Then it drifted away like clouds after the rain.

"I hope so, too.. I hope it's different for you this time..." she whispered as she felt the thought float away from his mind. "I hope so, too...."

They stayed that way, for some time, holding to each other, as she felt thew Bonding sink deeper into both of them, their bodies only vessels that held the two Bonded souls together. There was no thought or doubt if they could not trust each other. No Bonded pair could ever place less than total trust. The idea that two of the Bonded could not trust each other was in impossibility. "M'reer...don't ever leave me..." he whispered, his voice broken with tears.

She looked at him, pain in her eyes. "We are Bonded, and I can never lie to you...you ask me not to leave you, and I cannot make that promise... but I swear to you, that I will never leave of my own free will..."

He nodded, his acceptance lifting the pain in her soul. "I understand...thank you, M'reer."

She nodded solemnly, and began drawing her clothes back on. "It is time to ready ourselves for the hunt..."

"Nik di thral," he said, saying in her tongue, "Move to finish." He stopped, then looked at her oddly. "Did I say that?"

She smiled, chuckling softly. "Yes... yes you did..."

***

The trip to the 'substation' ended while they were still a good mile away. She wanted the car parked a good distance away, so they could go in on foot. She was settled by the speed at which Stephen complied, after all of the grief he had given her before. But then again, she had hoped he would not agree so easily in the future. It would not be so much fun if Stephen agreed with her. He was doing his best to stay quiet, and she supposed that to the rest of the world, he was, but to her it sounded like he was stomping the grass down as he followed her to the electrified fence...

She whirled around, and caught herself just as she was about to snap at him. Her eyes went from hard to gentle, and she held her finger to her lips. "Shhhh.. you walk much to hard." She showed him how she was moving. "Like this... walk as though... as though the grass were sacred, and you cannot bend or break a single blade." Smiling, she turned around and went onward, sniffing the air. "One scent," she was mumbling quietly to herself. "Just one scent...that's all I need..."

She noticed it got quiet behind her, then she turned to see Stephen pulling out a pair or insulated cutters. *Maybe if we get through this fence, and get closer, the damned ozone won't muck up your senses..* she heard him mentally whisper. She was quite amazed at how quickly their minds grew comfortable with each other, though she had only entered the mental room where he liked to keep his memories of rock-and-roll once...

She watched him creep up to the fence, and begin to gingerly hook two wires to it. "Why not over it?"

"Excuse me?"

She gracefully leaped the 10-foot fence, landing on the other side soundlessly.

He gaped for a second, then said, *Well, I can't DO that!* and continued to cut...

She waited for him to cut through the fence, looking behind her, then back, then behind. It looked to Stephen as though she were watching a tennis match. When he was through, and standing beside her, she continued forward,

creeping along the ground, listening and trying to pick up a scent.

*The ozone is still too thick*, he heard her grumble mentally.

*What's the point in having such a keen sense of smell when everything else just masks what you're trying to get?*

She looked back at Stephen. "How you doing?"

*Better...wait. What's that smell?*

She looked at him quizzically. *Any smell you would have picked up I would have detected it first.*

*That's the funny part. YOU'RE smelling it. I'M not. It smells...thick, wet...almost slimy, really.*

She looked surprised. *What about the ozone?*

*Well...I've been smelling it for years. Maybe my mind is editing it out. Here...*

Then the smell of ozone was abruptly cut off, silenced, letting the other smells come forward. She could smell this other thing now, and could track it...

She sniffed the air lightly. *Yes,* she whispered, then smelled more deeply. *Yes... yes, this is different. This must be it...* She suddenly whirled around, and darted in the direction of the scent. It was all Stephen could do to keep up, and do it quietly...

She followed the smell of the Thing to an open portal. The smell was almost overpowering here, almost too much of a scent to track. She sensed that it was still inside this building. Somewhere. Stephen slipped up behind her, looking into the hole. *In here?*

She nodded.

He mentally sighed, then gave her a keen eye. *Lead the way.*

She checked her weapons, then dove into the hole, quietly scurrying along the narrow passageway. Occasionally she looked back to Stephen, making sure he wasn't stuck. Suddenly the passage opened up into a wider room. She fell from the hole with a plop, and waited for Stephen to make his way down...

Stephen stopped at the edge of the hole, then jumped to her level. He looked around, then she saw that this room was not wider...it was HUGE. It looked like an empty warehouse. The ghosts of boxes stored here, clean squares in dusty frames, seemed to go on forever. Only one box remained.

It was titled SOL SYSTEM.

Hawke looked at her, then pulled at the boards to open the box. He did it as quietly as possible, but when the panel fell away, the loud gasp drew her attention back to the box. Inside, in a glass case, rested a...CREATURE.

It seemed to be all bulbous eyes, long claws, and dagger-like teeth, in a body that was not configured like any body she thought existed... It looked like a monstrous version of a Slopehead...

She looked at Hawke, then stepped back. *Shall we?* she asked with her mind, drawing her gun from its holster.

Hawke pulled out an ancient weapon, a Thompson .45 caliber submachine gun. That seemed to be answer enough. They both opened fire on the sleeping Janitor.

The thing seemed to wake up as the combind ordinance punctured its body, then seemed almost to FLOW out of the case, running towards them even as gunfire pock-marked its skin. It ran between them, one claw coming out to score Hawke's face, and both of them cried out as she felt the white-hot sliver of pain in Hawke's face. They both turned, and saw nothing.

*Jesu Christus...* Hawke mentally groaned, one hand to his bleeding cheek.

From an intercom, a voice came, "Marvelous, isn't she?" The voice of the Director.

M'reer turned slowly to face the intercom speaker, and slowly sniffed the air again. *I remember what he smelled like,* she whispered. *Maybe I can find out where he is...*

As she tried to orient on him, Hawke asked, "That ugly mother is your baby?"

"Yes. She is perfect for our task."

"WHAT task?" Hawke said loudly.

"There is a computer there. Use it."

Hawke turned to the computer, then said *Forget the damn Director! That Janitor is still IN here somewhere!*

As she turned, she was dimly aware of things he was seeing on the screen. Lists of planets, and one more...*DEAR GOD!* she felt, a strong pulse of cold terror. *They've sent one of these Janitors to every planet in the League! AND THEY'RE ALL FEMALE! THEY'RE ALL PREGNANT!!!!*

She turned slowly to the speaker again, knowing the Director could see and hear every word and every move. She smiled coldly. "You're good... but I don't think you're THAT good." She turned and began to track the Janitor's scent again. *Done with that thing yet?*

*Give me a minute...*

The Director said, "We have always known that we were the superior race on this planet. To be added to a League would have destroyed that superiority, and most likely destroyed us. So we decided to go back to our...roots...and fashion a plan that would assure our superiority over the entire galaxy. We will once again be the only race to exist in the Galaxy."

Hawke looked up, then at the computer. "That's genocide! MULTI-Genocide!"

"Only a word, Mr. Hawke..."

M'reer could sense the Janitor, somewhere in the darkness, waiting...

"The only problem is, our Janitors attack anything after they detect their landing...even us. So we created a virus to kill them off after they cleaned every planet of life."

She saw the thing, far away, crouched and waiting.

"Kill them," the Director said, and Hawke jumped up to grab the Tommy-gun as the thing rushed at them...

M'reer stood, seemingly calm as the Janitor rushed toward her. As it drew near, she suddenly jumped... and stayed up. M'reer clung to the ceiling, looking down at the thing, and Stephen was amazed she had the presence of mind to ask *What do you know about the vulnerabilities of Slope-Heads?*

*Not a clue...* he said, as she was suddenly aware of the Janitor looking balefully at Stephen, her senses heightened to an unforeseen degree as she could see it from TWO perspectives, her own and Hawke's!

*Wait...I have an idea. But you'll have to trust me.* Hawke brought the gun up, and the Janitor turned to face him. *When it runs under you, attack its back and neck. Jump on it if you have to.* It was crazy. For her to be able to do that, it would have to be ...right in front of Hawke.

*I love you, M'reer.* Hawke opened fire, feet spread slightly, and the thing came for him, moving at unearthly speed... It did not slow down as it approached him, the gunfire ripping through it, maddening it...and it FORGOT M'reer as it rushed at Hawke with murder in its eyes...

She watched it carefully, waiting for it to run under her... *I love you, too... and please try not to shoot ME in the process,* she teased. As it rushed for Stephen, she suddenly dropped from the ceiling onto its back, screaming wildly, all humanity gone from her eyes as she wrestled with it...

She had nothing to worry about when it came to gunfire. Hawke had stopped firing when it was only 50 feet away, dropping the gun, but still unmoving. It had slashed at him, claws cutting through the Kevlar like paper, and throwing him back as it cut deeply into his chest. Hawke had not moved an inch until the Janitor moved HIM. But the human bait worked.

The Janitor screamed like a calliope under intense pressure as it felt M'reer ripping into it, trying to claw her off, but could only rake her back, drawing blood that went unheeded, as M'reer dug for the tender area Hawke had thought would have been there. Her claws ripped through flesh and bone until it found a thick, meaty cord, below the base of its armored neck...her instincts told her it was the Thing's spinal cord...

She felt it, then wrapped her hand around it tightly and pulled... She supposed she could've merely severed it with a claw, but she wanted it to suffer...as its victims had suffered. She wanted the Director to see how easily defeated his child was... Screaming insanely, animalistically, she tore at the creature...

Then, she found a firm grip, and pulled, hearing thick nerves snap like elastic bands snap when pulled too far. The Janitor dropped, and M'reer rolled, her right hand still gripping a length of round tissue, and she watched its upper body thrash, seeming to die for a very long time, its lower body already dead and useless. She felt her chest, full of pain, but saw no wound on her chest. Then she realized it was HAWKE'S pain she was feeling... She looked over to see him laying against the wall, bleeding heavily through the ripped vest...

She ran to him, already pulling things from the pack on her back, trying to stop his bleeding. *Dammit, Stephen, I don't.. WE don't have the time for this!* she said in his head. *Can't you pick a better time to do this?!* She quickly, with shaking hands, applied poultices and bandages to his wounds, hoping she had done it in time...

*Bitch, bitch, bitch...alla time you bitch and moan...* he mentally said, then pointed up. She saw nothing, but she sensed a large ship above the compound.

*I sent a distress call. It's a League ship. You better...* he coughed thickly...*hit the transmitter on my belt. I can't...seem to reach it.*

She pushed the button, then felt the odd feeling of the transmatter beam, and they were both suddenly inside the sickbay of the ship.

*Tell 'em to...get out of here. To cordon off the planet...*

As they found themselves in the sickbay, she immediately jumped to her feet to get Hawke some medical attention. She barked orders at them like a drill sargeant. He might've thought it funny if he weren't in so much pain... She relayed the message Hawke gave her, and hoped they would take it seriously.

Three hours later, she was waiting in the main room of the ship.

The captain came in, then sat down. "M'reer Ral'Mar. My name is Captain Richard McKettrick. We have reviewed the information you have given us, and under your recommendation, we have sealed off the planet, pending investigation into the matter. Your friend..."

"My partner..." she amended immediately.

"Sorry. Your partner has told us of the massive delivery of the 'Janitors,' but we are unable to halt so many freighters at this time."

"You won't have to," she heard from the doorway, and she turned to see a haggard, but alive Stephen.

She jumped to her feet, her heart leaping into her eyes... then suddenly her look turned scolding. *What are you doing up?! You look horrible! I'm sure they didn't let you out of sickbay! Are you crazy?!*

He looked at her, and said, *Is that a trick question?*

She scowled, then said quietly, "I don't think you should be up yet, Hawke."

"I'll be fine, but the Slope-heads are in for it."

"Whydo you say that, Mr' Hawke?" The captain asked in confusion.

"They let me into their computer, so I erased the delivery codes for the freighters."

The captain looked confused. "Wait...if those delivery codes are gone..."

Stephen nodded. "On Earth, we call it 'Return to Sender.' The Janitors for a million worlds are going to be delivered right back to the Slopeheads..."

M'reer smiled slightly, and nodded, as if this were all inevitable. "If the Slopeheads were afraid before... they don't know what fear is yet..."

"Mr. Hawke, do you realize you'll be responsible for the death of an intelligent race?"

"Yeah. So try to find a jury that will convict me. C'mon, M'reer, I hear they have a great Hot Keril Blood drink in the bar."

She looked back at the Captain, as if trying to decide whether or not to say something... then she walked to Stephen, took his hand, and walked with him from the room...

Later, after M'reer pronounced the Teril Blood excellent, Hawke asked, "So...do I get to meet your parents?"

She stirred her drink with one finger, and pondered his question. "Well... I'm sure you will.. eventually... my father will know when the time is right, and then just.. show up!"

"I hope he's not the nosy type. I fully intend to make incredibly wasteful sex with you as soon as I fully heal, and I don't know if I like the idea of him popping in at a crucial time." He slugged down his drink and said, "So...how would you like to become a private detective's partner? The hours are good, the benefits are excellent, and the office needs an office cat..." he grinned.

"An office CAT?!?" They chuckled together, and she continued. "Apparently, all the excitement of the past couple of days must've left you slightly addled... I already AM a private detective's partner." She smiled, and reached to ruffle his hair...

He brought out a small box, and handed it to her. Inside, she found a detective's badge, and a small ring with a gleaming diamond. She looked up, and he said, "I wanted to make it official..in BOTH matters."

She smiled, slightly bemused, and held both items in each palm. "This, I know," she said, looking at the badge. "This," she looked at the ring, "is another matter... what exactly is this for?"

"Well, where I come from, if you want to become someone's partner for life, you give them a wedding ring and ask you to marry them. Now I know I am going to look foolish, but..." He slipped down to one knee in front of her, and asked, "M'reer Ral'Mar, will you marry me, and put up with me, if I put up with you?"

She stifled a giggle and took the ring from her palm, examining it carefully. "My people don't wear much jewelry.. but I think I can make an exeption..." She looked at it, then at Stephen as she tried to slip the ring on first her thumb, then her index finger...

"Here..." He took the ring, and slipped it into her ring finger, looking down at it, then up into her eyes. "Well...? Will you marry me?"

She looked solemnly into his eyes. "Yes." She made it sound like a pronouncement.

His face broke into the warmest smile she had ever seen on his face.

"Splendid!" They both froze, turning to M'reer's left side to see a grinning R'harch Ral'Mar, her father, standing over them.

She smiled happily, then turned to Stephen, a smug smile on her face. "See, I told you," she said.

He looked at him, then said, "Can you teach me how to do that? It'd make my job a helluva lot easier..." Then he was taken into the traditional greeting, which for her father was a tight grip of his hand, with the other gripping his neck just as tightly. He looked at her, then squeaked, "Strong man, yer father..."

She smiled proudly, then stood to greet her father with a slight bow. "Father.. I hope I have made you, and my people, proud." She looked at him anxiously.

He boomed, "After the tape of your great battle, how could we not be proud of you?! You have brought our family great honor, in defeating an Enemy no other race could best!"

She looked at Hawke, and he said, "Did I ever tell you about the videocamera in my sunglasses?"

She looked at him, astonished, and began to smile, the smile quickly faded, and a sheepish look replaced it, as something he took for a blush spread over her face. *Stephen! Where were those sunglasses when we... when we... where were they?!*

*On the dresser.*

She gave him a look of pure acid, and he said, *Don't worry! They only work when they're worn!*

She breathed a heavy sigh of relief and turned back to her Father. "Father! It's so wonderful to see you again!" As she embraced him, Stephen could see the relief in her eyes...

*I guess it would have been uncouth in any case. I never wear my glasses during sex anyway.* "So...Mr. Ral'mar..." he said slowly.

He turned to him, with an odd look, and then his face eased. "Yes. Mister...a title of respect on your world, isn't it? You're the one who sent that tape. You love my daughter very much, don't you?"

Hawke leveled his eyes at M'reer's father, and said, "Yes, I am."

"And suppose I told you you were not good enough for my daughter?" he said, his face suddenly darkening.

"I'd bust you one," Hawke shot back.

Her father literally roared with laughter. "You would, wouldn't you?! My Daughter, your Bond-mate here has the balls of a Ripper-beast!!"

M'reer smiled brightly. "Yes Father... and brass, too."

She looked at Hawke. *How did you know just what to say to impress him?*

*I didn't, really. Just a gut feeling. I know that's what I would do if he did say something like that. I just didn't say just WHERE I'd bust him one...*

She looked from Hawke to her father. "We must decide whether to have an Earth ceremony, or a ceremony on our world..."

Her father considered. "Now there is a truly weighty problem. I have studied Earth weddings, and I do not know if the entire clan of Ral'Mar would fit in any holy gathering he could plan. However, if we hitched you two at home, he would have to undergo the Trial of Procreation."

Hawke looked at him oddly. "What kind of Ritual is that?"

"Why, you have to prove your ability to bear children! M'reer and her five sisters would have to test your stamina and endurance. It takes a very long time to ensure conception!"

*Uh....he's kidding, right? I don't REALLY have to...with you AND your sisters...do I?* he asked, an unsettled look coming into his eyes.

M'reer smiled widely at him, then looked up at her father. "I don't know, Father... it might be too much.. for US!"

Her father looked at her, then nodded. "Very well. FIRST, we shall marry you on Earth, with only HALF the Clan. THEN...to OUR world, and the ceremony THERE! You and your sisters should be able to handle him THEN!" They looked around, and saw Hawke trying to open a window into deep space...

M'reer looked at her father, and stifled a giggle with the back of her hand...

He smiled back, and mentally said to her, *Your Bond-mate has a lot to learn about us. Tell me, is he well-made?*

She looked at him, shocked. *Father!* She looked embarrassed.

He grinned slyly. *Come. Let's get your exuberant Bond-mate away from that window, and set up the weddings...!*

In the end, they had to drag him away.

THE END