PART ONE

Lothos paused a moment letting her have her say. “Don’t cross the line, Dr. Malvison. However, you are correct. I am their father, and I have been there for them… when you have not. I provided for them… maybe not physically… however, I have always been there and always will be here watching. It’s a shame that you didn’t want that opportunity… not even from afar.”

Zoë could feel tears on her face. She knew that he was right and there had been hundreds of times when she thought about asking about them, but every time, she had been afraid that her asking about them might be looked upon as insolence. She heaved a heavy sigh and let it out just as hard. ‘Damned if you do and damned if you don’t… either way… damn.’

Looking down at his watch and seeing that it read four thirty, Maxwell Robinson straightened up from all fours and sighed appreciatively as his back popped in four places at once. He grinned, then brushed off his hands on his jeans and started toward the main doors of the facility. He knew that the nurses wouldn't like it that he came in dirty, but he also knew that he only had a little time before he needed to get back from the infirmary to finish his job, and put up his tools by the end of his shift before he would be able to get into a shower. By that time, Max knew that he wouldn't have any time to meet with Ms. Zoë at all.  Visiting time would be over then.

Moving toward the elevator, he sloppily saluted the men that were sitting at the desk and grinned when they shook their heads at him. Getting to the elevator, he went straight to the infirmary on the twelfth floor. When the doors opened before him, he stepped out and went to the wing where he knew Ms. Zoë Malvison room was located.

Going to the nurse's desk, he nodded to the nurse as she smiled and handed him the vase of lovely pink roses he had left with her earlier now sitting on the table behind her. "There ya go... freshly watered." She gave him a wink, and Max grinned and headed toward the recovery room.

Opening the door, he looked in and smiled when he saw Zoë Malvison awake. Pushing it open, he held the vase close to him and started toward the bed. "Ms. Zoë, glad to see you awake."

For Zoë, being an invalid rated right up there with hating the man who had made her an invalid. Her body, just days ago hers to command and go when and where she pleased, was now her prison. Waking up to the sight of a nurse at her bedside doing whatever she had to do, who began speaking in cheery pleasant tones had the opposite effect on this patient, and the patient didn't waste time letting her know it, either.

"Will you get the bloody hell out of here!" she demanded as forcefully as she could, her light brown eyes flashing daggers at the woman. "I'm breathing fine, and as long as my heart is beating, I don't need or want you in here hovering over me like some old biddy hen! Get out!"

Seeing the youngish nurse hesitate before hastily finishing her tasks concerning Zone's well being -in silence- did more to perk up Zone's spirits than anything had so far. But now she was alone again.
        It had been bad enough when Lothos, from out of the blue, had dropped the bomb on her that the young woman in the next bed was more than just a junior programmer, but was in fact their daughter. Unable to even shift in the bed, Zoë lay motionless, replaying endlessly in her mind the scene that had played out in this room a couple of hours before. Tala's flirting with Edward Grant, which had triggered, to Zoë's immense startlement, vague stirrings of maternal instinct, causing her to warn Tala against the dark-haired doctor with the come hither eyes. All of it, the shouting and crying, and ending with Tala fleeing the room had just added to the mix. By the time she and Lothos had their confrontation, Zoë had been so fatigued, emotionally as well as physically, that she'd fallen asleep.

Now she stared at the empty bed, wondering, privately hoping that her daughter....*my daughter*.... was okay. It was still a mind-boggling notion that she had a child... a living child. *Wherever you are, Tala* she thought to the young woman now roving somewhere clad only in a towel, *be careful.* To those who might think of taking advantage of the emotional young woman, Lothos chief leaper/instructor's thoughts were decidedly darker.

Hearing a soft sound, Zoë turned her head toward it then smiled at the young man. "I was wondering when some good looking young man was going to bring me flowers," she said with a bright smile that even put a sparkle in her eyes. She kept glancing from the flowers to Max's face as he came to the bed. She sniffed appreciatively of the dark pink blooms then sighed as he carefully placed the vase on her bedside table.

"So, what brings you here... besides seeing me, of course," she teased him softly. He was easy on the eye -- oh very much so -- but she had never felt more for this young gardener than friendship. Max Robinson was one of a tiny handful of people that she trusted to always tell her the truth.

Max smiled back brightly at Zoë and shook his head negatively, saying "Nothing, Ms. Zoë. Nothing but you." He met her eyes and couldn't help but smile even brighter when she diverted her eyes and a new light pink lit her cheeks up. "I... hope that you don't have a fever," he teased to her, which only caused the blush to deepen.

The wave of her hand by her side was enough to know that he had her - hook, line and sinker. He went toward her, put his hands behind his back and gently placed a peck on her cheek. "I just had to see for my own eyes that you were okay, Ms. Zoë."

Zoë almost took a verbal nip out of Max for his comment. Only a studied effort on her part kept her from snapping back, ‘I'll NEVER be okay again, thanks to that bastard, Calavicci!’ Instead she responded, "I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of being anything else." Carefully, slowly she lifted a hand to lightly touch the back of her fingers against one of Max's sweat-stained cheeks, giving him a smile. Even though he was in need of a shower, it didn't bother her. He was a man of the earth, who liked things simple and direct, and he was physical, an aspect she appreciated. "You know, I think you're the only person...the only real visitor I've had since I've been in this place." She chuckled softly at his reply then asked off the cuff, "When you were coming in, you didn't happen to see Tala about anywhere, did you?"

Max frowned slightly at the question. "Tala? The... technician that works in Lothos’ hub ... the one with the long red hair... blue eyes... quit that chuckling, Ms. Zoë. Yes, I've noticed her before... but I haven't seen her out about here. Is there a reason why she would be around here?" he asked plainly.

Seeing the look that vanished from Ms. Zoë’s eyes... the one of concern and wonder ... was enough for him to know that it was obvious that Tala should be here. "Would... would you like me to find her for you, Ms. Zoë? All you need to do is ask."

Zoë couldn't hold back the chuckle when Max didn't miss a beat in describing Tala to her. She took his own good-natured comeback in stride; *an ironic notion, considering* she thought. But the lightheartedness faded at Max's questioning.

"I'd appreciate it very much, Max," she said quietly. "She..." Zoë hesitated, wondering how much to say to him. The idea of telling him straight out that Tala was her daughter was out of the question. Not until she, herself, had time to finish adjusting in all manners to that notion, would she utter the words, "I'm her mother" or "She's my daughter."

Watching him straighten up and step back as if to go, she lowered her hand and caught his hand, holding him still. "She had been punished and was in here recuperating," Zoë informed him. "She's still...confused by it. And she's wearing only a towel." She paused, wondering what his reaction to that tidbit of information would be. Max was her friend, but over the last couple of hours, Zoë Malvison - known behind closed doors as the Bitch Queen - had discovered an aspect of herself that might even suspect a friend if her daughter's well-being were in question.

"Bring her back here if you find her, Max," she said a bit more firmly, her gaze fixed on his face. "Remember, she's confused. Maybe even a bit frightened."

Max listened intently to her words and met her gaze head-on. As soon as Zoë told him that she was in a towel... confused and frightened... he already had it in his mind that he'd find her and bring her back here anyway.

Leaning down, he picked up Zoë's hand slightly and kissed the back of it. "I'll find her, Ms. Zoë and bring her back. There is never reason for any harm to come to any woman in this complex. I'll be back." Blinking, Max put Zone's hand back on the bed tenderly before he started back toward the front of the infirmary, his eyes already roaming every nook and cranny that was in the complex as he went along. He was more than willing to find the beauty in a towel, but even his mind knew better than to try anything. Especially since the beauty was Lothos' pet. He was a man...but never an idiot.

Standing in front of the elevators, he scanned the hall once more all the way down to where Dr. Hugen's office ended at the hall. He figured that if Dr. Hugen saw a woman in a towel that he'd take her back to where she belonged.

Humming, he turned back to the elevators and punched the button to call the doors to open. When the elevator doors opened, he got in and pressed the button to start the elevator up toward the next floor. He'd search every floor... every room until he found her, if need be. He knew that if Ms. Zoë needed/wanted her, then that's what she would get.

When the doors opened, he stepped out and looked to the left... nothing, then to the right at the alcove that could fit nothing more than a chair and saw a figure cuddled up in the corner... with auburn hair flowing over the shoulders... and the towel wrapped around her body.  Moving towards her, he knelt down and looked at her quizzically. "Tala?"

There were tear trails on her face as she raised her head and looked at him. "Please leave me alone."

Knowing that this was going to take some time, Max sat down beside her, and looked at her a bit more closely. The dark purple and black bruising that was on her face was evident that something in correction had gone haywire. "Let me... take you to your quarters, Tala. At least there you'll feel a bit more comfortable. Or... I could take you to the infirmary. You look like you need some medical attention. You have a nasty mark on your cheek, hon."

"No!" Tala stated firmly. "I don't want to go back there! Ever!" She spit at him and turned her head away from him.

"Tala?" Max spoke her name softly enough that she turned her head back to him once more intrigued. "Please, that mark is really bad... and I'd feel a lot better if it was seen by Dr. Hugen or Dr. Grant... and... it might be better if you were... dressed, too." Max noticed the way that she withdrew away from him as he extended his hand toward her.

Reeling his hand back in, he pointed his index finger up toward the sky in a cautioning motion. "Here..." Within a moment, his shirt was off of his body and he handed it over to her. "I know that it's not much, but at least, it's some cover. Come on, Tala," he said softly, carefully. "Let's go to the infirmary. I'll go with you. Okay?"

At the mention of Dr. Grant and Dr. Hugen and the way that he had offered his shirt, Tala slowly nodded. "Okay." She took his shirt and put it on, then moved the towel down to make a makeshift skirt. Only then, did she let the nice man begin to lead her back toward the infirmary. As soon as the elevator doors opened on the twelfth floor, Tala backed away from the doors, not wanting to be led back in again.  But, Max's grasp was firm on her arm as he escorted her back into the infirmary and back to the room where she had left.

Entering the room, Tala immediately rolled her head towards the floor and wouldn't look up. She whispered, "Take me home... take me home away from her... Please..." her eyes lifted to Max's as she begged once more. "Please... take me home."

To say that Dorothy Hendricks was startled to see the good looking, if dirty, young gardener walking down the hallway with his arm around a young woman swathed in a towel, was an understatement. But by the time she stopped staring and started quickly toward the twosome, they had turned a corner.

"Just a minute," she called out, hurrying around the same corner just in time to see them enter the last room on the right at the end of that hall. "There's never a dull moment around here," she muttered to herself as she made a beeline for that room. As she neared it, she heard the young woman's plaintive plea to be taken away from 'her'.

‘No need to guess who she means,’ Dorothy thought. ‘Why Lothos put that sweet girl in with Dr. Malvison is beyond understanding.’  But Lothos' reasoning for doing anything wasn't hers to speculate on. Right now what she had to do was get the upper hand on this situation.

Pushing open the door, Dorothy was a little surprised at Tala's attitude, shrinking back from approaching the bed that the gardener was doing his best to help her back onto. Sliding up on Tala's other side, she slipped her arm behind her waist, and said firmly, "The only place you're going, Miss Tala, is right back into that bed until Dr. Grant or Dr. Hugen says you're okay to leave. Now, come on. Into bed with you."

Zoë hadn't uttered a sound from the moment she'd heard Max's voice in the hallway approaching her room. And Tala's all too plain reaction to being in the room with her again stung more than Zoë would ever admit to anyone. So to keep from giving her feelings away...these newly discovered and in some ways, annoying, maternal feelings... she remained uncharacteristically silent. Not even when Tala cried and even struggled against being put to bed again, did she speak.

What Zoë did do, however, was study her young friend as he assisted the nurse with Tala. He was patient with her emotional reactions, firm yet kind when he spoke to her, and, she noted how he was careful of how he touched her. ‘A perfect gentleman,’ she thought, watching as he stepped back out of the way once Tala was in bed, so the nurse could work with Tala.

Even though, Tala was pulling away, doing everything in her power to not get back in that bed, even with the prompting of the nurse that had come to her aid. "It's okay, Ms. Tala. Get back into bed." But as soon as the nurse came up and took a hold of Tala, Max released his grasp and stepped back several steps from the bed, his eyes fixed on Tala for several long moments before he glanced over to see Zoë Malvison looking at him, a somewhat content looking _expression on her face.

Max half grinned at her and nodded his head once acknowledging her then glanced back at Tala who was looking at him even more so with tears flowing down her cheeks. He took a half of a step toward her realizing that he wanted to hold her... to let her cry on his shoulder, and then stopped. Glancing at all three women once more, he abruptly turned and headed toward the door. Hearing someone clear their throat, he turned his head back at the door and looked back to see the nurse starting toward him. "Yes ma'am?"

Dorothy was used to handling patients in all situations, but it didn't make this any piece of cake. Still she managed to get Tala settled on the bed and the sheet drawn over her. The copious tears running down the young programmer's face, nor her pleas to be allowed to leave, moved her. The nurse valued her own hide more than to let any patient sway her unless there was damned good reason, and Tala's situation didn't make the grade for such consideration.

Having extracted a shaky promise to stay put, Dorothy added, "I'll get you a clean gown in just a minute. And remember, Tala... you are not to put one toe off that bed without a doctor's permission or unless assisted by a nurse." Giving her a firm look, the nurse glanced around and saw the gardener leaving.

"Ahem," she cleared her throat then watched him react, turning back to her. To his polite, "Yes, ma'am?" she said, "If you'll wait in the hall, you can have your shirt back in just a few minutes."

A grin made it's way to Maxwell Robinson's face as he listened to the nurse. Looking back over at Tala as she laid in the bed, his shirt buttoned up around her, he regarded the nurse once more. "I'll get it later."

He paused yet another second to look back over at Dr. Malvison and saw the grin on her face as well. He genuinely smiled, nodded once more, then walked away from the room knowing that within the next couple of days, maybe even sooner, that he'd get his shirt back... clean... from Tala. ‘That's enough of a reward for me,’ he thought as he confidently walked down the hall toward the elevators.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Coming out of Mr. Flaggery's room, Heather Stevens was in the perfect frame of mind to turn around and throw the lunch tray at him and then just walk out of the infirmary and keep walking.

"Nasty old coot," she muttered under breath, as she just stood outside the door. She was soooo tempted to leave this patient wearing his roast beef and gravy; "That'd warm him up," she muttered again then sighed and started down the hall to the rolling rack which held the food trays that was brought in each meal time. But as she approached it, Heather stopped in her tracks and stared unabashedly at the young man that rounded the corner and strode quietly down the hall past her.

‘Ohhh mama!’ she thought, half turning to watch the best rear view of any man she'd seen today. Long legs clad in close fitting jeans, work boots and best of all, no shirt to hide his warm tan, the color of her favorite caramel candy. For a second she allowed herself to be mesmerized by the smooth, muscular contours of his back and his broad shoulders.  Licking her lips slowly, Heather's thoughts followed the eye candy that had appeared as if out of the blue, and who apparently had no idea of his effect on her.  Vaguely remembering something about a tray, Heather moved slowly forward, wishing she could do more than just follow him with her eyes, then...

CRASH!.... CLATTER!

Red-faced, Heather, swore under her breath as she hastily reached to clean up the mess of Mr. Flaggery's uneaten lunch. But even as Mrs. Hendricks was getting on her case about daydreaming...again... somewhere in the back of her mind, Heather Stevens had rounded another corner in pursuit of a certain item of eye candy.

PART TWO

Trevor just stood to the side watching, waiting and sighed frustrated when Dr. Hugen left the office door open.

The way that Siren’s desk was situated in her office, he couldn’t do anything more than look into her eyes for a long moment. By the flush on her cheeks and the way that she licked at her lips, he was so ready to kick that door shut again it almost hurt. Instead, he stood up and nodded to her an left to go to his desk, saying as he passed her, “I’ll be right outside if you need anything, ma’am.” He paused, his hand on the doorknob, looked into her eyes and said, “Anything. Anything at all.”

When Trevor said that he would be right outside if she needed anything...  anything at all, Siren sighed heavily and looked into his eyes. Swallowing and taking a deep breath, she said, "I will want to go over that report with you, later, Mr. Conroy." She held his gaze a moment, then blinked softly, watching him nod then shut the door, She laid her head on the desk and blew out a deep breath. "Oh damn," she whispered softly as she once again thought about his lips on hers. After a moment, she blew out another breath then picked up her foot, propping it up on the desk to help alleviate the pain.

Seeing Trevor comes out of Siren's office, Allen couldn’t help but grin up at him. Hearing his words to her, Trevor’s best friend’s grin just got wider as he shook his head. In a sing-songy voice, he teased... "Trevor and Siren, sitting in a tree...k-i-s-s-i-n-g ..."  But by the time the “g” got out of his mouth, Trevor had spun around and in three steps was standing in front of Allen’s desk and was reaching across to clap his hand over the jokester’s mouth. Looking up at him with laughter in his eyes, Allen lightly hit Trevor’s arm, forcing him to let go of his mouth. "Well, that's what you were doing now, weren't you?" he asked with a “cat got the canary” grin on his face.

Hearing Allen start in with the same nursery rhyme he had driven him nuts with in grade school, Trevor whirled around and marched over to Allen’s desk and clamped his hand over his mouth. To his, "Well that's what you were doing, isn't it?" Trevor answered, "Wouldn't you like to know," then went to his desk. Frustrated by wanting to be with Siren in more than a professional situation, he gave his friend an 'eat your heart out, pal, 'cause I'm not talking' look that he knew was guaranteed to drive him to distraction.

By the time lunch break rolled around, there was no room for Trevor to gloat. Usually in four hours he would have gone through about a dozen files, sometimes more. Now, thanks to what had almost happened, Senior Logistics Technician, Trevor Conroy had barely accomplished getting three files reviewed and written up. A shadow falling across the file before him just at that moment, made him look up to see Allen's grinning face. "What do you want? As if I can't guess.”

Allen smiled at Trevor, unable to help himself. "Well…ahem…aren't you going to go get Siren and take her to lunch? I mean, isn't that what you do when you have a girlfriend?" he asked with a lopsided grin then quickly backed away from the desk, not wanting to get hit.

"Wise move," Trevor told him darkly as he watched the other man step back from his desk. "And for the record, she is not my girlfriend. For your information," he told him shortly. "It actually comes under the heading of following Lothos' correction order." The sight of Allen's grin widening, along with quickly reviewing what he'd just said and the way he said it, Trevor knew instantly that he was about to get it with both barrels. Dropping his gaze to the file opened on the desk in front of him, he waited for the inevitable.

Allen grinned at him, almost chuckling under the circumstances, saying, "Well, if Lothos wants you to feel her up... then I guess that's what you have to do. Gawd, your correction must be the most horrendous one that I've ever seen." Taking his time, he walked casually toward the door then turned back to Trevor, his hand up in the air, even as the intercom on the corner of the desk beeped. "I think that's your call, Sir Galahad. You better rescue your damsel in distress... before... ahem... before you get in trouble." Licking his lips, Allen ducked the pencil flung at him, then shut the door, his laughter echoing in the hall. Who was Trevor trying to fool? Not Allen McAllister, that was certain; they had known each other far too long.

Flinging a pencil at his friend and co-worker was the least potentially fatal action Trevor could take when he started egging him. Before Trevor was half out of his chair, he watched Allen duck out the door, listening to him cackling all the way down the hall. "From the sound of him, you'd think he'd just laid an egg," he muttered under his breath, glowering at the door just as the intercom on his desk beeped again. Getting up, he went to the door and, out of respect for Siren's position as supervisor, knocked lightly then waited to be summoned inside.

Siren pressed the intercom button a second time and waited silently for Trevor to come to the door. When she heard his knock, she licked her lips and called out, "Come in." She schooled her expression to a professional demeanor, but from the moment that she saw his face, she melted inside again.

During the morning hours, she had sat there at her desk trying to review over his report, but hadn’t yet made even halfway through it yet. Every time she tried to concentrate on it, she kept feeling his hands on her back, his lips on hers, and his tongue…

Flustered at where her thoughts were going, as well as with herself and the situation she had allowed herself to be in, Siren took down her hair and ran her hands through it. Before he came in, Siren tried to put it back up, but several strands didn't make it back into the clip.

Looking up at him, her lips lightly curled as she said, “I didn't mean to bother you Trevor, but... I was getting sort of hungry. If you're busy... I can wait." She looked away from him to the report once again, and then sat up a little straighter, well, as well as she could with her foot up on the desk. Slowly though, her glance found it's way back to him as he started toward her.

Stepping into her office, Trevor hesitated only a fraction of a second before closing the door. He remained just inside the door, watching her, drinking her in with his eyes, and the longer he did, the thirstier he was becoming for another taste of her lips. Quietly, his eyes holding hers, he said softly, "It's much prettier down around your shoulders."

It seemed plain enough by her response, a sort of fidgety, roundabout way to ask if he would bring her something to eat, that the new supervisor’s thoughts were moving in the same direction as his thoughts. After a moment and with no response of any kind from her, he moved slowly to the desk and stopped, just standing and looking down at her.

"What are you hungry for?" he asked, his tone husky, his unwavering gaze pinning her in her chair. When she licked her lips again, Trevor mirrored the action as he gazed at her.

Hearing his words, the only thing that Siren could think of that she wanted was Trevor. She wanted him. She wanted him holding her; she wanted him touching her. Anything to do with the man... she wanted. Involuntarily she licked her lips yet again when she watched Trevor lick his lips. Her pulse was throbbing so intensely that she had to close her eyes and take in a deep breath and let it out slowly in order to get her thoughts refocused. Carefully she moved her foot to the floor and, taking the initiative, stood up, meeting his gaze steadily. "I think you already know the answer to that, don't you?" she asked, her voice soft and silky. Her heart was beating faster as she watched him slowly start to come around her desk toward her.

"Yes," Trevor replied softly. "I believe I do." Another moment passed before he started to move around the desk to her but then he paused. Everything about the moment seemed very clear and plain, but he wanted confirmation of it from her. By her answer to what he was about to ask, Trevor knew he’d have an answer… one way or another.

"Should I lock the door?"

Raising her hand up to his cheek, caressing his face with her fingertips, Siren blinked lightly as she murmured, almost under her breath, "Perhaps we should."

She swallowed hard when he stepped back went toward the door. A heavy sigh escaped her lips, and she looked down at the floor considering what was about to happen between the two of them, her thoughts in a whirl as she waited for him to return to her.  This is what I want... what I've been thinking about all this morning.... wanting to know... exactly what I've been missing... according to the few friends that I do have.

To her, "Perhaps we should," Trevor nodded, holding her gaze for a moment before going to turn the deadbolt on the door. "What about that one?" he asked, indicating the private entrance to the office. At her nod, he locked it too then turn around to face her.

The hunger in Siren’s eyes was plain to see, even the flush on her cheeks wasn't from embarrassment. As he moved to her, Trevor glimpsed the pulse in her throat, noting how it was throbbing. Yet for all the signs of nervousness about her, he saw no fear or hesitation anywhere in Siren when he stepped close to her, took her in his arms and bent his head to claim her mouth.

The kiss deepened quickly as he plundering her lips, his tongue darting over hers. Trevor’s breathing quickened as the feel of Siren pressed against him fueled the fire once more beginning to burn furiously inside him. Somewhere in the maelstrom of want swirling and tumbling in his mind, he knew that the time for Siren to hesitate or decline had passed when he locked the doors.

"I want you," Trevor breathed huskily against her ear when he at last broke the kiss. He nuzzled her neck, leaving a trail of kisses up the soft column of her throat even while his hands roamed, caressing the length of her back, and lower.

Siren was nervous and excited and uncertain all at the same time when Trevor’s mouth claimed hers. She couldn’t believe the passion that was happening between them. His kisses were driving her to the point of insanity and again, once more she felt as if she were in a trance, not realizing, and yet knowing, what was happening around her.

She heard his fevered whisper, "I want you," and as if of their own accord, her hands roamed over his back as well, exploring its breadth and length, felt the firm muscles under her hands. Softly she leaned back in his arms, and looked found his eyes once more. Looking deep into those light blue orbs, she saw the desire, the want that he just described in them. Blinking at him, she leaned in to kiss his lips softly then whispered against them, "Not as much as I want you...show me, Trevor..."

Trevor’s first reaction to Siren’s invitation was to gently remove the clip from her hair and watch it cascade around her face, falling softly over her shoulders. "I like it down," he told her softly, lifting a hand to brush a strand from her eyes. He moved his hand to cup one blushing cheek, then slowly slipped it down…down…until it rested on her right breast.

His eyes never strayed from Siren's, watching her reaction as he caressed the firm yet yielding flesh under his hand. Kissing her again, parting her lips hungrily, Trevor held her close with one hand, and with the other fumbled for and found the pull of the zipper down the back of her uniform. He hesitated a moment when he felt the tremble quiver through Siren's body as he began to pull the zipper down. But she made no move to try to stop him, and this time the zipper stopped as far down as it would go.

"Don't be frightened, Siren," he whispered softly. Touching kisses on her lips, her cheeks and back to her lips again as he brought his hands up to her shoulders and began to push the fabric of her uniform away. "I won't hurt you." As the top of the uniform dropped down, he stopped then, holding her gaze, Trevor moved his hand up, this time with nothing between it and the warm fullness of her breast.

Siren heard Trevor's voice softly telling her that she shouldn't be frightened. Her gaze locked with his as he touched her.  She couldn't help gasping lightly at the sensation of his hand on her breast. "I... I'm not frightened of you, Trevor, " she said huskily, her hand coming up to keep his hand where it was.

With her other hand Siren began tugging at his shirt, pulling the tail of it from his pants. Once it was free, she slid her hand lightly up inside to feel his chest. Leaning back toward him, she kissed him passionately, letting her tongue roll across his, allowing her free hand move around behind him, lowering to feel his behind. Leaning slightly back to look up at him, she sighed at the sensation of his hand coming around her back, pulling her toward him again. "How much do you want me?" she asked softly, wondering what was going on in his mind.

The feel of Siren's hand sliding across his chest, her fingers lacing lightly through the mat of his chest hair, tugging at it, just made Trevor want her more. And he definitely liked it when her hand strayed down to feel his behind. As for her question... he paused from the trail of kisses he had just started at the base of her throat and moving downward, to look into her eyes.

"I want 'you', Siren," he told her, holding her dark smoldering gaze. "I want you more than any woman I've ever known in my life. The way you look at me, respond to my touch..." As if to prove his words, Trevor delicately traced the tip of a finger over the nipple of one breast and heard her gasp. "I want to make love to you, Siren. I want to be with you, right here... right now."

He watched her, waiting. No matter how much he wanted to be with her, Trevor wasn’t about to force her to do anything. Siren had to be ready.  She had to come willingly to him, on her own terms, before he made another move.

Hearing his words, listening to him, Siren couldn’t help but moan lowly when he touched her so tenderly, hearing the words falling from his lips that he wanted to make love to her, here...now.  She looked up into his face and all she could do was blink at him. The man before her, this sexy handsome strong man before her, wanted to make love to her and she just stood there looking at him uncertainly.

Breaking the gaze that was so plainly telling her the same, she slowly reached up to touch his cheek with one hand then softly placed a tender kiss on his lips.

"I... " She began softly, her lips barely an inch apart from his. Siren could feel his shortened breaths warm on her skin, and it made it all the more difficult to talk when he wrapped his arms around her, leaning his head down to lightly trace his tongue along her neck placing soft tender kisses along with that maddening touch. Leaning her head to the side, she moaned and wrapped her arms around him holding him as close as she could while she could.

"Oh, Trevor... I... I can't," she whispered. She had heard her friends talk about how guys didn't appreciate being teased, but this wasn't some sort of tease. Siren wanted him just as much as he wanted her. She wanted to feel what she had been told that she was missing out on. But when it came right down to it...she couldn't. Not like this. Not...not here.

Trevor continued kissing Siren for a slight moment longer before he slowly straightened up.

Siren bowed her head not wanting to look into his eyes for fear of him being angry with her. She closed her eyes and waited for the bomb of his angry accusations of her being just a tease, to hit. When nothing was said for a long moment, she reached down and began to pull the top of her bodysuit up and slipping her arms through the sleeves.  By the time Siren had it up to her shoulders, she at last heard his voice.

Even when Siren said no, Trevor continued to kiss the maddening, auburn-haired woman he had first encountered in the last twenty-four hours. If he was truthful with himself, he couldn’t say that it was a surprise.

When he had felt her tremble a few minutes earlier when he had unzipped her uniform and touched her back, that alone had told him that she might not be as certain as she sounded.

Straightening then stepping back from her a bit, he looked at her, but her face was hidden.  With her head bowed, Siren's long, wavy hair acted as a sort of veil, shielding her face from him. Still, even from this angle it was easy to see the conflicting emotions on her face. Trevor didn’t say anything, letting his hands drop away from her.

Slowly and deliberately he forced himself to ease his rapid breathing to normal, never taking his gaze from hers. Even in uncertainty and, he guessed, fear of what almost happened, he didn’t... couldn’t...begrudge Siren the decision she had made.

The silence between them, though only a long moment weighed heavily on Siren; Trevor heard the soft sniffle. She couldn’t duck her head any further to prevent him from seeing what looked suspiciously like a tear on her cheek. And, as she slipped her arms into the sleeves of her uniform and settled the top over her shoulders again, he decided that one of them needed to say something.

        ‘Okay, Allen,’ he thought. ‘Get out the horse.... Sir Galahad's here.’

"Siren?" he said quietly, watching her almost stiffen at the sound of his voice. Not making any overt move to touch her, he said gently, "Are you okay?"  But as she didn’t say anything, just stood there ...not fidgeting, not looking at him, not talking... ‘Okay...’ he sighed silently.

"Let me zip you up," Trevor murmured then stepped around behind her and pulled the zipper up before she could make even the slightest move or protest. He was careful not to touch her back as he did so then moved around to face her again.

At least now she was looking at him, so he softly asked, "Are you going to be okay?" Waiting for her to respond in some way.... even slapping him... Trevor’s first thought was that he hadn’t frightened her.

When Trevor walked around to zip up her uniform, Siren quickly wiped at the tears that had started to fall. She found it hard to believe that she was letting herself cry like this. It was...humiliating that she was even doing it; she rarely ever cried.

Lifting her head and squaring her shoulders when Trevor moved back around, she maintained a bland expression. Having been around Xavier for the past twenty-four years, she had perfected it to some degree.

Looking into his eyes, she told him, "I'm fine, Mr. Conroy. I'll be fine. I always seem to bounce back from anything that comes in my way." Glancing down at his shirt for only a moment, she met his gaze once more. "I don't think it would be appropriate to go to lunch dressed in such a manner."

Raising her hands, she quickly pulled her hair back up behind her head and clipped it. Turning from him she took a painful step back and sat in the chair. Without looking back up at him, she started to straighten up the clutter on the desk.

Siren's cool, clipped answer and bland but pointed expression gave the senior logistics technician his answer in spades. Her observation about his shirt being open was the final flick of cold water on the moment.

"No, it wouldn't," he responded, not dropping his gaze from hers as he buttoned his shirt. In fact, it was Siren that turned away when he made a deliberate show of tucking the tail of it into his trousers.

As he finished readjusting his clothes, Trevor watched Siren pull her glorious mane of dark auburn hair back and clip it rather tightly. The moment was past, but his imagination was working overtime as she lifted her hands to pull her hair back. She didn’t see the way his eyes lingered on the soft roundness of her bosom, remembering just a few brief moments past.

While she straightened her desk, he waited. She had summoned him into her office, and by the letter of the rules, he had to stay until she dismissed him. But even that was superceded, at least for the next couple of weeks, by their shared correction.

After five minutes of silence, Trevor finally spoke, taking care to be respectful. "We've got about half of the lunch break left, ma'am. May I help you to the cafeteria?"  When Siren didn’t reply after a minute, he crossed his arms over his chest and cleared his throat deliberately. To her pursed lip expression he cocked an eyebrow and waited.

Hearing Trevor asking if he could help her to the cafeteria, all Siren could think about was how he would have to pick her up and carry her, per doctor's orders. She wasn’t certain that she could take that kind of 'abuse' at the moment -- that close to his body, his ever so tasty lips and not having to make herself not want to kiss him again. She pursed her lips at the thought of it when she heard him clearing his throat.

Closing her eyes and licking my lips, she said softly, "Very well."

Standing up once more, she moved her chair from behind herself and hesitantly met his gaze. There was no missing the hard stare that he gave her. Siren didn’t want it to be this way... didn't he know that? Couldn't he tell? But she had to remember how she had responded to him. She had blown it.

For Trevor, there was no such thing as not feeling a sting when she closed her eyes before saying, "Very well." Still, he held his tongue, as she stood up and pushed her chair back. If her eyes hadn’t been cool before, they were now as he moved around to pick her up carefully.

Carrying her around the desk, Trevor went to the door where Siren managed the deadbolt, then opened the door. As luck would have it, Allen was just coming back from lunch. Only a blind man wouldn’t have seen the gleam in his eyes.

"If you don't want my fist in your face, pal," Trevor warned, pulling no punches, and not caring about what Siren might have been thinking at the moment. "Don't say a word," he warned. "Don't even think about saying what's on your mind." The narrow-eyed glare he aimed at his friend let Allen know that now was most decidedly not the time to get playful.

Walking down the hallway to the elevator, there was no way to avoid the various other people going about their workday or going to lunch. Siren's arms might be around his neck, but the tenseness in her body left no doubt that she was not enjoying being close to her partner in punishment at the moment.

In the cafeteria, Trevor allowed Siren to choose where to sit, and after settling her in a chair, got in line. The day’s special was roast chicken, and he was hungry, digging into his meal as soon as he placed Siren’s plate before her. She didn’t eat much of the broiled fish and small mixed green salad she had asked for.

Trevor ate without comment for a couple of minutes, then as he lifted another bite of salad to his mouth, paused to look closely at her. Clearly, she was holding everything in. It was apparent, at least to him, that she had herself and all her feelings reined in tight.

"Aren't you hungry?" he asked a safe question then took a long swallow of iced tea. As the cold liquid slid down his throat, Trevor watched her over the rim of his glass.

Trevor had behaved very gentlemanly when they arrived at the cafeteria, asking Siren where she wanted to sit as well as asking what she wanted to eat. But even when the food arrived, she just picked at it. She wasn’t hungry... for food at least. But, she was determined to keep it hidden; she had to.

Staring at the food on her plate, Siren reviewed again what had almost happened in her office, and the conclusion of that review was the same each time she added up the equation.  She couldn't have made love to a man that she had only known for a little over twenty-four hours.  She especially remembered hearing all of the girls talk about 'love', and how they were fawned over longer than two years at times before giving anything more to the guy they were dating. Picking listlessly at the small fish filet, she wondered again just what it was about this man that sent her into a tizzy?

It was another moment or so before she realized he was saying something, and refocused on the good-looking, mesmerizing, if annoying man across the table from her. When she heard his question, she carefully looked up at him and blinked, her eyes saying more than she wanted them too. "No... not really. I'll get something later if I need to." Picking up her own glass of tea, she sipped at it then set it down, and look away from him then looked at her watch.

"Time flies..." she began then let the sentence trail off. Closing her eyes and shaking her head softly she told him. "I'll see if Dr. Hugen or someone has any crutches. Perhaps someone has. I... I don't want you to hurt your back."

“...when you're having fun," Trevor murmured under his breath, glancing at her through his lashes as he cut another bite of the chicken and put it in his mouth. Her suggestion about the crutches, followed almost instantly by, "I don't want you to hurt your back," jabbed something inside him.  Trevor was a quick study... pain was a great teacher and memory refresher... and so didn’t give the first response that popped into his head.

"Don't worry about my back," he told her conversationally. Skimming her figure summarily, he added, "I'm guessing you weigh about a hundred and ten, maybe a hundred and fifteen pounds. But I lift almost double that when I work out." *That got her attention* he couldn’t help thinking. "My back is strong enough for me to carry you wherever you need to go for as long as we 'have' to be together." Trevor hadn’t meant for that last to slip out, but Siren had pulled so far away that the notion crossed his mind that he now had an idea of how a leper might have felt.

Siren heard the jab at the 'have to be together' and couldn’t help but wonder if what had happened this morning was simply because they 'had to be together.'  The only thing that accomplished was to make her lean back in her chair, her eyes looking down at the plate in front of her. Her right shoulder drooped a bit and she could feel it coming on... the tears. So before she let them even begin to gather, she put her fork down and said, "Please take me back to the office. You may come back and finish your meal... or you can bring it with you... but I ... I need to get back." Wiping at her mouth, she put the napkin on the table.

Draining the last drops of tea from his glass, Trevor wiped his mouth, dropped the napkin on his plate, and got up. "I'm finished," he said evenly, moving around to Siren's side. She was barely on her feet when he swept her effortlessly up in his arms and strode purposefully out of the cafeteria.

For the rest of the afternoon and into the early evening, the silence in the Logistics Sector almost groaned under the oppressive atmosphere. Even Allen had withdrawn to his desk, only once or twice making eye contact with Trevor. Not even the few times Siren summoned Trevor into her office about some report elicited more than the briefest of responses from him. As the shift neared its end, it was kind of unusual that within the space of a few minutes, all three of them took something for a headache.

By a quarter of seven, as far as Mrs. Conroy’s oldest son was concerned; the workday couldn't end soon enough. But then, for him…correction - for Siren and him ... the 'day' wouldn't end for another thirteen days... and nights. The pain in his temples had vanished, but he still swore softly under his breath when the intercom buzzed yet again. Tossing his pen on the desk, Trevor rose to his full height, indulging in a brief stretch before going to see what the new supervisor wanted this time.

As the day had progressed, Siren found it necessary to call Trevor in several times to go over the report that she had talked to him about the day before. However, each time he entered her office, she made it a point to keep strictly to the topic at hand, pointing out the mistakes that she found; she even kept a civil tongue.

Around four o'clock, she took some Tylenol for a headache that had crept up on her, and then dug back into the work on her desk. As six o'clock rolled around, she felt her blood sugar dropping quickly. Worried about going into another seizure, she pulled open her center desk drawer and pulled out a piece of candy from it. Reaching over she pushed the intercom for Trevor to come into the office.

When he opened the door her hands, resting on top of the desk were already shaking, and she couldn’t stop it. Sitting stone still in her chair, Siren lifted her eyes up to him. "Trevor..."

Opening Siren's office door, Trevor looked to Siren, noting her wide-eyed gaze. But when she said his name then hesitated, he moved quickly to her.

"What is it?" he asked, concern evident in his voice and his expression.   Seeing her hands shaking, it took about five seconds to put it all together.  "Do you have any candy?" Seeing her nod, showing him a hard candy held in her teeth, he felt a bit of relief. Moving around the desk, he knelt on one knee to be at eye level with her.

"You want me to call Dr. Hugen?" Seeing the negative shake of her head, Trevor reminded her, "If he finds out you didn't eat lunch, he'll filet and fry you up crisp. Remember, I was here this morning when he pinned your ears for not eating."

He didn’t know if it was her blood sugar leveling out or her temper's rising at his comment, but it helped ease his concern to see Siren's color improve a little. A glance at her hands revealed them to be a bit steadier. Still, he stayed where he was just in case she needed someone to lean on.

Hearing Trevor's words about Dr. Hugen, pinning her ears, Siren couldn’t help but grin at him. "I ate," she reminded him diligently. "I… just didn't eat a lot." A slight sound caused her to look up through the open door and see Allen approaching, his expression one of concern.

Having heard Trevor's curse when he started to go back into Siren's office, Allen just shook his head. Having known Trevor since they were members of the sandbox set, he knew that when his best friend was in a bad mood, it was like being in the room with an iceberg. But then he heard Trevor asking, “Are you okay?" and Allen popped up out of his chair and went to the door. Hearing their conversation, and seeing Trevor kneeling beside Siren’s desk, he stopped in the doorway as she looked up.

"Is everything okay in here?" he asked, dividing a glance between the two of them.

"I'm… I'll be fine,” Siren assured him with a little smile. “My blood sugar was just a little low and… when it does dip low… it scares me. Just having someone in the room with me calms my fears… you know… in case I do have a really bad seizure." Seeing the look on both of their faces, she tried to put their minds at ease. "Honestly, it doesn't happen often. But if it'll help calm your fears, I'll just leave the door open when I'm in here alone and not having a meeting." She swallowed then sighed heavily. "I have my reserves handy. See?" Grinning, she showed the mint held firmly between her teeth, and seeing Allen's lopsided grin, she couldn’t help but smile back at him.

Allen grinned back at Siren, nodding to her suggestion then glanced at Trevor kneeling beside her. Licking his lips, he gave a little wave of my hand. "I'll be out here... if you need anything." Then remembering Trevor's response earlier that morning, Allen couldn't help myself. "Anything at all." Glancing at Trevor, he turned on his heel, chuckled all the way to his desk.

‘So, the confidence level does dip a bit from time to time,’ Trevor mused silently as he listened to Siren admit to keeping her anxiety level in check when her blood sugar started to drop. But then he mentally kicked himself for the snide thought. ‘Under the stress she's been subjected to, and being a diabetic, I'd probably feel a little easier having someone at least close by.’ It was Allen's parroting what he'd had said from earlier in the day that got Trevor up on his feet.

"Are you okay, now?" he asked Siren, watching the way she was rolling the mint around in her mouth. Seeing her nod, he left the office, being sure to leave the door ajar. Going back to his desk, Trevor pointed an accusing finger at Allen grinning at him from his own desk. "You're gonna be fish bait if you don't watch it!" Sitting down, Trevor glanced over at him again and sighed. All Allen’s cheeky grin told him was that his warning had been about as effective as spitting in the wind.

"Leave me alone," Trevor groused more or less good-naturedly as he picked up his pen and turned his attention, yet again, to the last report to be done by seven. All that Allen making barely audible kissy sounds did just made Trevor mutter under his breath…something about dipping a certain friend in peanut butter and throwing him into a pack of starving chipmunks!

It was a rarity to be given the opportunity to irritate Trevor, so when the opportunity was practically handed to him on a plate, Allen just couldn’t say no… he had to do it. It would have been like ...like seeing a penny on the floor and not picking it up. So for the last hour, Allen sat at his desk making soft kissing noises, and darting glances back at Trevor.

Finally and at long last, when the clock on the wall near the door read seven o’clock, he was the first to pack it up. Standing up from his desk, Allen stretched his arms up over his head and yawned.

"Well, one more day... one more day and then it'll be Friday... and then we're having that party again, right? I've already invited the girls and set everything up," he said, his voice deliberately loud enough to let Siren hear it.

"How many of the girls did you have to brainwash this time?" Trevor asked idly, grinning when a wad of paper bounced off the back of his head as he typed in the last of the last report for the day.

Hearing his pal’s smart aleck retort, Allen nodded his head to him. "Yep... I brainwashed them with my charm," he retorted as he slid over toward Trevor’s desk to perch on one corner. "And don't you say that I don't have any... I do. Ask Siren." Pointing in the direction of their new supervisor’s open office door, Allen glanced that direction, noting that she had a clear line of vision to Trevor's desk. Before Trevor looked toward the door, Allen waved his hand at her to help him out.

Siren had to smile at the interaction between the two of them, and hearing her own name being mentioned, she tilted her head to see Allen's wave. "Oh...that's right... your a perfect gentleman," she quipped lightly, shaking her head.

"Sweet syrup and charm are light years apart, pal," Trevor said, not even looking up from his typing, though he grinned when Allen swatted the back of his head. "Personally, I think Karen's just coming…she is coming, isn’t she? …. Well, I think she’s coming just so she can ignore you up close and personal." Allen swatting the back of his head a second time, caused Trevor to pause long enough to warn, "Do that again, and I'll be hosting the party, because the fire team will be hosing you down after I've set your pants on fire."

Hearing Siren's comment…Trevor wasn’t sure why… got under his skin. Under his breath he muttered so softly even Allen bent towards him trying to hear. "Guess that makes me a cross between Jack the Ripper and Quasimodo."

Glancing up, he saw Allen frowning. The frown meant he hadn’t heard what he’d said, so Trevor just smirked at him, his blue eyes twinkling mischievously. "Wouldn't you like to know," he egged him, then hit the 'save' key and sent the report to print then cleared his desk in record time.  When Allen didn’t move, Trevor flicked his hand at him. "Go away, little man," he dug a little deeper.

Not having heard what Trevor said, Allen stayed around his desk a moment longer. And his telling him to, "Go away little man,” he just gave him an 'offended' glare. Straightening up, Allen looked into Siren's office and sent another smile her way.

"Have a good evening, Siren, ma'am."

Glancing up from the paper that she was reading, Siren heard Allen's good-bye. "Allen, may I speak with you a moment, in private, please?"

Cocking an eyebrow at Siren saying she wanted to speak to him in private, Allen couldn’t help but rub it in with Trevor. "Doesn't sound like sweet syrup to me....pal." He moved quickly enough to avoid the swat and grinned at him as he went into Siren's office and closed the door.

"You wanted to see me, ma'am?" he asked respectfully.

As much as she appreciated the respect that he had given her, Siren waved her hand in the air for a moment. "No more ma'ams. I'm not that old. Actually, I think you're older than me. So... just stop."

She scratched her head a moment then stated, "Am I to understand that you are having a party on Friday evening?" then interlaced her fingers together.

At Siren's insistence to drop the 'ma'am', Allen did so willingly, grinning at her. "Okay," he responded. "And yes, it's our once a month combination "we-can-only-do-this-kind-of-bash-once-a-month" and "thank-gawd-it-s-Friday" party. The last one was a real blowout." Seeing something in her eyes, and being a guy who never let an opportunity to stroke the ego of a beautiful woman pass, he said casually, "You're more than welcome to come. It's at my place, tomorrow evening." When asked what time, he grinned again. "As soon as the office door locks."

Seeing the goofy grin, Siren couldn’t help but smile back at him. "Well, if you don't mind your 'boss' being there, I might come." Pushing back the chair, she stood up then, remembered that she wasn’t supposed to walk on her foot, she sighed, but instead of sitting back down, leaned lightly on the desk, holding out her hand to him. "I don't believe we ever really had a formal introduction." When Allen stepped up to take her hand, Siren felt the squeeze of his hand, but he held it a little longer than he should have before releasing it. "I hope that we'll work well together."

Trevor might have been in hot and heavy with Siren... or may not... but when she held out her hand out by way of introducing herself, Allen took the opportunity to shake it firmly. He also didn’t let it go too quickly. ‘Never pass up a chance to make points with the boss,’ he thought as he gave her fingers an extra, but gentle, squeeze before releasing them.

"I'll look for you," Allen promised her. Glancing over his shoulder and seeing Trevor's back still toward them, he said, a bit loudly, "Would you let Trevor know that I got his lampshade cleaned? He looks so good in it when he gets a little deep in the beer." The low growl the issued from the outer office told him what was waiting for him when he left Siren's office.

        Hearing Allen's jab at Trevor, Siren shook her head. ‘Those two must really be good friends.’

Allen walked back outside, eased around Trevor and quickly raced toward the door. But he wasn’t quick enough, and was caught at the door.

Trevor let Allen get past him, then in two steps, grabbed the collar of his shirt and hauled back, giving him a couple of rough shakes before releasing him.

Fixing him with a 'you-re-gonna-pay-for-that' look, Trevor’s light blue eyes fixed on the other man, telling him, "Sorry to disappoint you, Allen. You know, about getting the film from the last party developed? But," he grinned when he saw the panicked look come up in his friend's eyes. "I did get one roll developed and one of the shots was sooo good..."

Allen looked at Trevor with panic in his dark eyes at the mention of the last Friday night ‘blow out’ party. It was clear that Trevor was able to remember that one. He, on the other hand, wasn't so lucky. Allen had heard any number of comments how he had been the life of the party.... and the most nude of the bunch as well. Opening his mouth, and bringing up a finger in a placating gesture, he said, "Okay, okay, okay…you don't have to go there... pal... You really -REALLY- don’t have to go there. I'll stop." He blinked at him, mentally crossing his fingers.

"But Ally boy," Trevor said, now giving his friend, pal and buddy a taste of what he had been dishing out.  Deliberately he raised the volume of his voice, giving a slight shake of his head that "Joker McAllister" know that since he had opened the gate, this pony was going for a run.

"Allen, I never would have believed you would've done 'that'... and in front of all those girls." Trevor chuckled with ‘evil’ good humor as Allen turned twelve shades of red, all the while making shushing noises and ducking his head. When he lifted his hands in 'surrender', Trevor leaned in close and told him in a low tone meant only for his ears, "Now... we're even."

Even though she knew that she wasn’t supposed to walk on her injured foot, Siren did it anyway. Getting to the door, the slender, auburn-haired woman rested her weight on her left foot as she leaned against the doorframe, watching them, shaking her head slowly.

"Well, now that you're even, can we go to dinner, Trevor? I'm famished."

Hearing Siren asking about dinner, and so closely, Trevor felt some of the lightheartedness dissipate as he turned to her. He decided not to comment about her standing by the door.  Let Hugen chew her out. "Okay," he said evenly and picked her up. A warning glance at Allen was enough to keep that grinning joker’s mouth shut as well him opening the door.

Once Siren was satisfied that the door was locked, Trevor headed for the elevator with…of course…Allen's strolling along beside them, chit chatting with Siren. After a moment, Trevor managed to get a word in edgewise.

        "Dinner at your place," he asked noncommittally, "or at the cafeteria?" Turning slightly, he managed to punch the call button for the elevator.

Hearing Trevor's voice break into their conversation, Siren turned her head to look at him, feeling extraordinarily bad for leaving him out of the conversation. "Oh...umm.. you choose." She said looking into his eyes. "Wherever we go, I need to talk to you about something, she murmured quietly so that Allen didn't hear.

"Cafeteria, coming right up," Trevor quipped almost on the heels of her telling him to choose. Meeting her eyes, he didn’t even nod to acknowledge her last comment. "I think the entree is roast beef," he responded offhandedly. Then the elevator arrived and, as Trevor’s luck was running, Allen stepped into the car with them. Trevor threw him a quizzical look.  "Forgot your way home?"

Siren’s reaction to not getting an answer from him, but instead an offhanded remark, was to look away from him, ducking her head knowing that she had screwed up somehow. Yet, when Allen stepped into the elevator and Trevor words jabbed toward him, she glanced between the two of them.

‘Whatever happens, I'm keeping my mouth shut.’

"Well, pal... " Allen began. "A guy's got to keep up his strength for those lucky girls. You know." He winked at Siren when he caught her looking at him. He also knew that there was no way that Trevor hadn’t seen the exchange. He couldn’t help but grin when his tall best friend with his arms full of a beautiful woman - albeit with an injured foot - glared at him, but he caught the hint. Hitting the elevator button for the level for the bachelor men’s quarters, the next stop, Allen licked his lips. "But... I need to shower first... just in case."

When the elevator opened a moment or so later, he stepped outs and look back at the two of them. "Have a good dinner, you two." Seeing Siren lightly wave at him, he grinned and walked away.

Trevor hadn’t taken the obvious bait that Allen had hung out for him with his comment. Instead, he looked blandly at him until the elevator doors closed. At the next floor, Trevor shifted Siren slightly in his arms as he stepped out of the elevator and headed down the hall toward the cafeteria. Once inside the double doors, he told Siren to choose where to sit, then waited for her to decide what she wanted to eat.

Once in the serving line, Trevor managed to get both orders on one tray, then went back to the table. Carefully he placed their plates, drinks and utensils on the table, then handed the tray to a passing busboy. Sitting down, he picked up his fork but it didn't make it to the plate when Siren began to speak. He just sat, listening politely.

Although the senior logistics technician had been very polite toward her, Siren keenly felt the ice that had wedge itself between them. Finally she couldn’t take it anymore. Looking at him across the table, she asked, "What's wrong? Have I said... done... something wrong?" I'm not going to pussyfoot about the subject. "I know that we have to spend the next two weeks together, but, it doesn't have to be... so... icy."

The look that he gave her, though mild, didn’t give Siren the first clue as to what Trevor was thinking. She could tell that he was just being polite, and she didn’t want to make a scene in the cafeteria. "Never mind. It obviously doesn't matter."

"It matters," he responded quietly, meeting her eyes. "But, like you, I prefer not to air certain things in public." It was plain she was confused about his attitude, but he wanted to get through the meal with as little upset as possible, so after hesitating a moment, Trevor took a bite of roast beef. After a moment, and she hadn't touched her food, he said quietly, "This isn't a threat, but if you don't eat, I will call Doctor Hugen and let him know you basically haven't eaten enough to fill a thimble today."

After that, the iciness she had mentioned settled over them like a heavy cloak. It was a very quiet, very strained half-hour.

After hearing that he was basically going to 'tattle' on her, Siren dove into her meal, keeping her gaze from even straying toward him as she ate.

Once dinner was over, and Trevor had once again whisked her up into his arms, Siren waited until they got back to Xavier's quarters to even say a single word to him. Helping him by opening the door, she saw Xavier stand up from his chair, laying aside the paper he had been reading, his face in obvious confusion as Trevor carried me into the room.

"Over there," she directed him toward the couch. When Trevor just about dropped her there, she clenched her teeth shut to keep from snapping at him. Looking over at her father, she lightened her gaze and put on a smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Seeing Siren in young Mr. Conroy's arms, as well as the way he plunked her down on the couch definitely got Xavier to wondering. Not so much about him carrying her; he had more or less expected something like that after Hugen had filled him in on how he'd taken care of her earlier this morning. No, it was the smile Siren gave him, a smile that didn’t get remotely close to her eyes.

"I trust you had a productive day at work?" he said casually, watching Mr. Conroy just standing a few feet away. "Please," he waved a hand to a chair. "Sit down." He didn’t comment when the invitation was politely declined. "Suit yourself."

Siren lightly blushed at the remark 'productive'.  Rubbing her forehead lightly, said, "It was... it was very informative, " meeting his eyes without a glance in Trevor's direction.

Feeling her forehead again, then her temples, Siren felt the headache that she had tried to get rid of earlier flaring up again. "If you gentlemen don't mind, I think that I'll retire early this evening. I've got a headache."

It was beyond Trevor not react to the end of her sentence, just giving her a knowing half smile and a raised eyebrow. "I hope you'll feel better in the morning, ma'am."

Raising her head to his 'ma'am', Siren stood up. When Xavier also stood up and moved to her side to help her to her bedroom, she thanked him lightly, kissing his cheek.

"Can you manage, my dear?" he asked. Her spending the day at work had given her a chance to sort out their relationship a bit since the same time last night. She was more relaxed in his presence, but there was enough remembrance of how it had to be between them for a couple of weeks.  His daughter assuring him that she was able to get ready for bed without assistance, was all Xavier needed.  Kissing her goodnight, he returned to the living room where he was surprised to see that Mr. Conroy had, within the few minutes he was with Siren, found the sheets, blanket and pillow in the closet, and was making up the couch.

"Early night, too?" he asked consideringly.

"Yes, sir," Trevor answered respectfully as he started to unbutton his shirt.

Xavier nodded at his reply as he moved to stand in front of him. "Then I suggest you put those things back in the closet and get in the bedroom with Siren."

Trevor felt his jaw tighten at Xavier's words, but wasn’t about to argue with him. He had been hoping that the night before had been a fluke. Obviously, it wasn't. Nodding to him, he folded the bedding and returned it to the closet. It didn’t help his mood when Xavier followed him not just to the bedroom door, but also into the bedroom.

With her back to the door, Siren sat on the bed and stripped off her clothes. She heard the door open just as she drew her short, nightgown over her head and settled it into place. Turning her head, she saw both Trevor and Xavier.

Not paying to much attention to them, she lay down on the bed and turned on her left side. Covering up lightly with the sheet, she nestled against her pillow and waited. She didn’t have any idea what was about to happen, but whatever it was, she hoped that it would happen quietly. Her head was hurting rather badly.

Seeing Siren laying down, facing away from the door, Trevor gritted his teeth, and for a moment didn't do anything. But Xavier speaking quietly behind him left him no option.

At this moment, not knowing what caused the undercurrents of tension between them, Xavier was losing patience with Mr. Conroy rapidly. His stopping and not making any move of any sort once inside the bedroom just irritated him further.  Keeping his voice low but clear, he ordered, "Undress and get into the bed...now, Mr. Conroy."

"I don't have anything to sleep in," Trevor pointed out as quietly and calmly.

Siren, hearing the low voices, sighed and slowly turned over onto her back because she couldn’t get comfortable.  Her foot was bothering her, as well as the headache now throbbing in her temples. Turning again, she faced the door and slowly opened her eyes to see her father and Trevor almost nose to nose, talking quietly. She had no idea what they were talking about, but even their low voices were exacerbating the pain in her head.

"You didn't wear anything last night, either," Xavier pointed out to him coldly. "So it shouldn't bother you to sleep that way again tonight." He paused then added, "You can either undress and get into that bed, or you can spend the next eight hours in that cell again. Your choice, Mr. Conroy."

Put like that, Trevor didn’t reply in any way except to take off his shirt and instead of flinging it in Xavier's face as he wanted to do, dropped it on a chair near the dresser; his shoes and socks were next. Lastly, unaware, not that it would have bothered him that Siren was watching, and at the same time, meeting Xavier's eyes squarely, he unfastened and dropped his pants, leaving them where they lay on the floor. Moving around to the other side of the bed, he got in beside Siren and lay down. A bit roughly he grabbed more of the covers over himself.

Siren closed her eyes then opened them again only to see Trevor undressing. She didn’t close her eyes or look away as he disrobed, at least not until he dropped his pants. At that point she looked away from him, only then closing her eyes. When the bed moved beside her a moment later and the covers were yanked so hard that the blanket now only covered half of her, she just sighed. She wasn’t about to ask for her share of the covers back.

Knowing that Xavier was still in the room, she didn't say a word, almost afraid to do so. But as she moved her hand up to her head because of the pain, lightly rubbing her temples, she heard him speaking to her.

‘You are one of the most stiff-necked people I've ever encountered, Mr. Conroy,’ Xavier mused to himself as he watched the younger man jerk the covers over himself as he turned on his side away from Siren. Glancing beyond him, Xavier saw his daughter rubbing her temples.

"Do you need an ice-pack, Siren?" he asked gently, moving to her side. She was in correction, but he knew very well what it was like for her when she got one of her rare headaches. Borderline migraine, though medically Dr. Hugen and others disagreed.

Hearing her father’s voice above her, Siren opened her eyes and looked up into his face. "Oh... no, no sir. I'll be fine if I sleep, I think. Thank you," she answered then lay still, half-covered, and nestled her head back into the pillow. "I... I just need some sleep."

"Very well," Xavier replied, not stroking her brow in the soothing manner he usually did for such situations. Casting a glance at the man lying stiffly beside her, he added, "Sleep well."   Leaving the room, he closed the door firmly, making a mental note to check on them before retiring for the night.

For a couple of minutes after the door closed, Trevor didn’t move, instead just lay there, fuming. But as that anger seeped away, he realized just how tired he was. Settling more comfortably on the pillow, he pulled the covers up over his shoulder and sighed. It was at that moment that he realized that he had most of the covers on his side of the bed.

‘Great... hot head!’ he groused silently at himself. ‘Get greedy why don't you.’ In spite of his better judgment, after another few seconds, he turned over to Siren and carefully moved half of the covers over her. Funny, it seemed like she stopped breathing. In the very dim light Trevor was just able to make out that her eyes were indeed open, watching him.

"Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to grab the blanket so hard."

After Xavier left the room, Siren tried to get into a more comfortable position, but every time she moved, it was as if nothing seemed right. When she finally got into a position, facing Trevor's welt-covered back, she watched silently as he turned over and covered her up again. Hearing his words, she let out the breath that she'd been holding.

"No... I'm sorry. I've obviously done something that has upset you, and whether or not that is a part of what happened this morning or not, I... I'm sorry."

Giving up her comfortable position, she shifted onto her back again and looked up at the ceiling.

Hearing Siren's 'confession', followed by an apology, Trevor lay there on his side and closed his eyes, letting out a small tired sigh. Since she’d brought it up, he decided that this had gone on far enough.

"It does have something to do with it, yes," he said quietly, speaking in low tones so that his words didn't carry any further than to her ears. When she turned her head to look at him, he took a breath and continued on. He knew he was going to have to choose his words very carefully.

"Look, I understand about... how you feel about what almost happened this morning," he said, shifting his position, wincing slightly as he propped up on his elbow, facing her.

Hearing him telling her that it was, indeed, about what had happened that morning; Siren turned her head to look at him. But when he started to tell her, she wanted to turn away. She wanted to leave the room, but then Xavier would want to know what was going on. So all she could do was lay still, looking up at him and wait. But when he started to talk about how she must have felt about the earlier incident, she reached out and lightly touched his lips with her hand, realizing quickly that it was the wrong thing to do.

When his hand came up to pull her hand away from him mouth, she began, "No... no you don't understand how I feel about what almost happened this morning...." The instant she felt his lips lightly move against her hand to say something, she started to speak, hesitated then continued. "You.... oh, gawd, my head really hurts.  Maybe we should just go to sleep, okay?"

Slowly she moved her hand from his mouth, and it took a few moments but he finally nodded.

Siren's hand touching his lips was enough to stop Trevor from talking, listening instead to her tell him that he didn’t understand. Even when he tried to say something to her, she just mentioned something about her headache and, "Maybe we should just go to sleep, okay?"

He waited for her to remove her hand, and then nodded. But as she settled back onto her pillow he told, "Whatever the reason, I just don't understand why you're treating me so coldly." She didn’t reply, and after a moment of silence passed, he, too turned over, settled his head on his pillow and closed his eyes.

PART THREE

She licked at her lips, thought of the handsome man that she had gotten close to in the hall and was even more surprised when a smile – a true smile spread out across her face. Why she was feeling giddy over the guy was beyond her but at least she knew that there was something there – she knew that she was attracted to the strength that he carried not only on his shoulders, but in his physique as well.

After showering and re-dressing, she tied her shoes and looked at her watch. She had just enough time to make it back to the lecture room. Hurrying to the elevator and waiting for it to descend, she paced restlessly in the car. ‘He’s got something … dammit,’ the word just wrapped around her mind. ‘He’s got me.’ She stomped her foot more than a bit impishly and irritatedly then sighed. She didn’t like it that Vaughn Rickar now knew that if there was something sexual between them that he might be able to manipulate it to his benefit. As she neared the lecture room, she saw the stud muffin himself and tried to wipe the thought out of her brain as she approached… but it was hard when he turned and she saw how well his uniform fit him. But glancing down at her watch, the moment the clock read 11:15 PM, she stepped right up beside him as they both reached out and opened the doors to enter and continue the competition.

By the time that they entered together and came to attention, Thames was ready and more than willing to set down the next part of their competition.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was a long forty-eight minutes prowling around outside the lecture hall until he could enter it again, but it also gave him time to start reassessing his competition. He had just realized what had actually occurred in the hallway and he was most pleased and pained at the same moment. No, he hadn’t touched her, but boy had he wanted to; and he had not let her luscious lips intimidate him, even though his body was craving it. He sighed. He really needed this conquest to be won so that he could take care of his needs, wants and desires. And if Shannon wouldn’t take care of those needs, then Johanna Royden wouldn’t be a sloppy second. He took in a deep breath and then blew it out. By the time he glanced at his watch just as he heard steady footsteps approaching the lecture hall, the leaper had regained his grip on his goals.  He didn't even allow himself the luxury of a nasty thought when precisely at 11:15 p.m. - not a second too soon or a second too late - he re-entered the hall with Johanna Royden at his side.

As he looked them over carefully, Thames noticed that both seemed to be fresh and ready for their next assignment. He knew that they had the gumption to make it through that was the least of his concern. The real concern was if they could manipulate the people around them and to do it in a timely manner.

He paced before them for several moments egging them, even saw the sly glance that each gave the other. He also didn't miss the way that they both let their eyes drift over the other's bodies. ‘Ahhh, so some sexual tension as well... good. Very good,’ he thought with a smirk.

Vaughn, once at attention in the lecture hall, kept his thoughts in tight check where his competitor was concerned. That lasted as long as it took for him to glance her way while they waited for Thames to get down to the business of the next challenge. It was the quicksilver flash of...something... in Johanna Royden's dark eyes as she held his gaze a second before giving Vaughn what he felt had to be the most thorough ten-second once over he'd ever been subjected to. Neither did it help him rein back his own thoughts.

‘If we weren't competing....’ Angrily he mentally lashed himself for letting that thought slip through. Jerking his head forward, the tall leaper fixed his gaze on Thames and never looked away from him. ‘Dammit, when is he going to say something?’

Thames just kept pacing for another couple of minutes, glancing at the two competitors, and choosing how to put the next challenge to them. At last, it was a prompting from Lothos that finally brought him to a stop at a point halfway between the leapers. Clasping his hands behind his back, the Senior Observer looked at first one then the other.

"Your second challenge begins in ten minutes," he began. "As with the first, your objectives are the same though with a different setting for each of you." He paused for effect then continued. "This leap, for both of you, is an actual assignment. However with this one, you will be assessed on the degree of skill and success you achieve."  Neither leaper moved, didn't blink. Thames shrugged, and continued on.

"Each of you will be leaped into an individual inside a high security government agency or industry office. Your goal is to ascertain what the most sensitive business objective is ...be it a new software program, a prototype for a new weapon...whatever... and then sabotage it. You are not to destroy it, physically.  Your goal is to disable it so that it costs that business or government billions of dollars and years to repair the damage. If you're able to convince or coerce or blackmail someone else into doing it....so much the better." He paused to take a deep breath. "You have five hours to accomplish your mission. As with the first challenge, Lothos will decide when you have achieved...or if you have not achieved.... your objective. Remember... there are no second chances. Beyond what I have just told you, your ultimate goal is success...and to win."

The Senior Observer now watched each of them closely, scrutinizing their expressions. He kept his own face unreadable as he spoke again. "Report to the Accelerator Chambers as assigned in the first challenge. Go."

He watched them both pivot, almost as a single unit, and exit the hall. Now, what to do with the next five hours?

Johanna Royden had never been more alert and entranced as she stood before Thames waiting for him to speak. Yet, as he paced before her, she couldn't help the look she stole at Vaughn... his dark eyes, the broad shoulders, strong arms... ‘Ooohhh if I wasn't in this competition,’ she thought as she also noticed Vaughn's eyes roaming over her body and warming at the thought.

She immediately turned her attention back to the man before her and centered her attention back on him. As soon as he centered himself, she listened to him intently, knowing that this assignment was going to be extensively harder than the last one she'd been on. Five hours to destroy a main component... not physically... but monetarily.

As soon as Thames said 'Go,' she turned and immediately started toward the door. Once again, she knew that the no talking rule was in effect and tried to rule out that Vaughn was walking side by side with her. As they entered the area where the accelerators were located, she watched as he passed her by then awaited as she had prior for them to be even. No one was going to say that she wasn't fair.

Only when the doors opened did she turn her attention back to the job at hand, focusing her attention. Five hours. Five hours. Success... not a problem, she thought.

She went to stand on the accelerator pad as instructed by the technician and gave him a wry smile as he said to just relax and let it take her away. She closed her eyes, took in a deep breath then felt the energy begin to flow through her, sweeping her up into the energy and then immediately it seemed, reality began again.

She opened her eyes and looked around the big office that she was in. It was most definitely a high rise, she noticed as she glanced outside the office window and noticed the other outlines of the buildings around it. She leaned back in the chair that she was in and looked down at the clothes that she was wearing and found that she had on a pair of high heels. She couldn't help but grin. A woman. Now... who?

She opened up the middle drawer of the desk that was before her and saw pens. Within the next three minutes, she found the woman's wallet and peered at the information. Mrs. Jennifer Thebes, five feet eleven inches, brown hair, green eyes. The picture of the woman reminded Johanna of a cheerleader just out of school. "Ohhh goodie," she remarked and was taken aback as the door opened and in walked another hunk of a man that had to be in the same family as Vaughn Rickar.

"Jennifer, Mr. Willis wants you to stay late and finish out that proposal," Elliot Snowbury, the second junior vice-president of Talmadge Industrial Securities began even as he opened the door of the office of the company's highest-ranking female securities analyst. "He's leaving for London on the midnight flight out of Dulles, and he wants to take it with him to review."  Not until he was actually standing in front of the large, highly polished cherry wood desk, did the tall, dark-haired man realize that the woman every man in the company wanted to nail...either physically or financially.... hadn't uttered a word. That got his attention immediately and he looked up from the open file folder in his hands to find her staring at him like...like he didn't know what. But for sure it didn't put his mind at ease.

"Jennifer?" Elliot spoke her name again. Seeing her arch one perfectly shaped eyebrow at him, he hastily amended his address. "Ms. Thebes... are you alright?"  Gawd, he hated this bitch, even though he admired her at the same time.

Talmadge Industrial Securities was known in the business world as one of the toughest places in the country to get past the front door, and the number of Talmadge Industrial Securities' female employees made up only twelve percent of their employees throughout their several locations in the country.  Jennifer Thebes, however, had not only gotten through the door, but she had systematically worked her ass off to climb the corporate ladder. She was as cut throat as any man in her field, and God help anybody, male or female, that took her college cheerleader good looks to mean that there wasn't anything residing under the French twist that she always wore.

What kept most of the men on their toes, and on the 'right side' of her, was her known penchant for backstabbing. She'd never been caught in anything. Though there had been plenty of accusations, nothing had ever stuck, and in the four years since he'd made past the front door, Elliot had heard plenty of stories, even witnessed one incident. Right now, all he wanted to do was deliver the message from the CEO of the company, get her response and report back to Mr. Willis so he could get the hell out of the building. Now he watched her watching him, and wondering what man in the company had the cahjones to want to get under her skirt. Not him, that was for damn sure.

"Ms. Thebes?" Elliot spoke her name again. "Ma'am?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Vaughn, once he and Johanna cleared the double doors of the lecture hall, cleared his mind of everything except the few scraps of information Thames had given about the second challenge. Again, he would be going in blind, but that wasn't all that unusual.  Many times an impromptu leap was a blind start, but that hadn't ever slowed him down or stopped him. As for coercion or blackmail... as far as this leaper was concerned, this challenge was going to be a cakewalk.

Entering the Accelerator Chamber Number Three, he silently waited for then followed the technician's instructions when the chamber was ready. Moments later, as the first tendrils of electricity and waves of power began to wash over and through his body, Vaughn was ready for anything. Nothing or no one, in the present or anywhere in the past, was going to keep him from winning the right to replace Dr. Zoë Malvison as Senior Leaper. After Lothos there was no higher authority than the Senior Leaper, at least among the leapers.

Vaughn relaxed into the power flow and closed his eyes, tilting his head back and let go. In what seemed a nanosecond and eternity, he felt the nothingness that he was fade and reality reclaiming him.

‘I'm ready for anything,’ he declared in his mind. ‘Bring it on!’ And then he opened his eyes...

Only his training as a leaper and prior leaping experience enabled the tall, dark-haired leaper to nail his feet to the floor and not flinch when he found himself staring down the barrel of what he was fairly certain was a .357 Magnum. Carefully he swallowed then let his eyes wander beyond the muzzle of the gun to the face of the person apparently intending to paint the walls with his host's...now, his... brains.

This was a first. Not that his life was in danger; Vaughn had faced and dealt with and overcome any number of life-threatening situations since becoming a leaper. But opening his eyes to find a gun almost against his forehead ... this was a first. Licking his lips carefully, Vaughn opened his mouth...then closed it when he heard the gun being cocked.

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