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"The Agency: Meeting of Souls "Written By: Karina Pairings 13x6 [eventual], 5xS, 3x4, Others undecided at this time. Warnings: Extreme Alternate Universe setting. Unbetaed, Aussie spelling and grammar, not much else in the early chapters though it will involve murder, stalking and possibly some colourful language down the track. Some Out Of Character depictions are unavoidable considering the alternate universe setting. Rating: M [In Australia that would be mature adult 15+] Not sure with the new rating system about international ratings. Rated for violence and language and adult concepts. Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. That's about as plain as you could say it. Summary: The world took a very different turn with the acknowledgement of psychic abilities and training of select psychic individuals enlisted in elite fields such as law enforcement and politics. A grading system for the strength of psionic abilities was developed and those who were the top of the elite have been dubbed Prime Talents and are highly sought after. Elite institutions have been developed to mark, train and employ individuals with useable psionic talents. The colonies of canon Gundam Wing do exist in this fic and were constructed before the psionic system was founded. With the advent of psionics in open use in society younger people are appearing in positions of power as they are awakening to their abilities earlier and are highly trained in their fields of expertise. //…// Thoughts
Chapter Seventeen Duo considered his surroundings with a little less pleasure than he had experienced only a few seconds before. The three bedroom suite of rooms he and his friends had been assigned had more than met with his approval, right up to the point Quatre had announced their dining arrangements for the evening. //No, no. It can’t turn sour now. Things were going so well.// When informed they were counted amidst the students allocated accommodations off campus Duo had been delighted, the prospect of escaping the rigid security of the University compound fired his fertile imagination with possibilities. He had immediately begun to plan how best to slip away unnoticed to enjoy the cities nightlife. The hotel was a five star establishment not far from the University complex. Given Tsuberov’s clientele he had known there would be adequate security to keep undesirables away from their guests. He had hoped to escape the tight security reining him in at the campus, and enjoy a more relaxed security protocol designed to keep people out, not in. The prospects of taking advantage of that distinction seemed to be taking a downward incline if, within the first half an hour after their arrival, his room mate was informing him of formal dining requirements. “We have to eat in the hotel dining room?” Duo blinked and stared at Quarte, hopeful he had heard wrong or simply misunderstood. Quatre merely inclined his head in a positive tilt. “Yes.” “With the hobnobs?” Fine lips twitched, a smile being withheld at Duo’s almost injured tone. “With the hobnobs.” Duo eyed his friend for a long moment, hoping to see a teasing glint in aqua blue eyes, which would assure him Quatre was joking. He decided the evidence for Quatre teasing him was decidedly lacking, and he could see his night on the town vanishing like mist in a breeze. Being confined to the hotel, luxurious as it was, was not his favoured option. “Ah, Kitty Kat, say it ain’t so.” The Winner heir sighed. He had known there would be protests and not just from Duo; he was expecting a bigger objection from Zechs when he emerged from his bedroom. Quatre was wary of just how bad a reaction he could expect as Zechs had seemed decidedly out of sorts during the afternoon. He had seemed preoccupied at the Assembly and by the time they had arrived at the hotel ‘preoccupied’ had graduated to a more worrying ‘somewhat surly’. For an empath strong emotion could become a drug and Quatre was well aware of the risks, but he could not help himself. He was attracted to strong emotion, driven almost; to savour it, study it and know every facet of it. Zechs was one to brood, he was never quick to lose his temper, but when he did it was fiery, spectacular and fizzled quickly back into brooding silence. If one was unfortunate enough to be the focus of his ire, be one psychic or not, one would undoubtedly be singed by the explosion of emotion he was capable of generating. Quatre had never been that focus and was fascinated with trying to determine the exact point when brooding would ignite into passionate fire. Given his room mates frame of mind during the latter part of the afternoon, Quatre was almost afraid of informing him they were expected to attend a formal dinner. He might end up a little closer to that brooding and fiery spark than he was comfortable with. Duo at least was generally more reasonable and easier to read than Zechs. “There is something wrong with eating in a restaurant, Duo? The food at the University is good, it has to be given what we are required to do, but there is something about a decent restaurant that makes food taste better. Tsuberov’s cafeteria just does not have the ambiance of this place.” The braided youth simply looked at his friend and tried to keep his jaw from dropping in disbelief. Some days Quatre was invariably the little rich boy, spoiled and eager for more pampering; the antithesis of Duo’s driving need for independence and careless attitude to grunge. The idea of slipping security and heading out for a night on the town had obviously not entered his very proper blonde head. “I can think of better things to do than eat in a hoity-toity restaurant, Kat. Have you mentioned this to Zechs? In case you hadn’t noticed, he’s a bit tetchy for some reason, and I think he’s not going to love the idea of company.” It was as well Zechs rarely lost his temper, Quatre mused, given the rules that governed high talent empathic and telepathic psychics. Prime talents in these fields had to be so careful to maintain control at all times. Zechs’s fits of pique were usually mild and directed against the worst of the instructors and students who constantly reminded him of his circumstances. Temperamental outbursts, snappy comments and weighted sarcasm were common and infinitely survivable, and extremely entertaining for any onlookers. Given Zechs had been drilled since arriving at Tsuberov in the necessity to maintain control at all times, Quatre was certain there was no need to be concerned. It was, after all, just dinner. Nothing to be worried about even if he was a little moody. * “Prime talents, regardless of the field of expertise, must always be in control. The safety of lesser and non talents is never to be forgotten, and is the primary concern that must be addressed.” * Being a confirmed Prime level empath himself Quatre knew the rigours of such training, and had lived through the lectures since he was a child. Zechs had not only his empathic talent, but also his telepathic talent to consider and was, if anything, more aware than Quatre of the dangers. Normally Zechs was fairly even tempered, and really it was the endless etiquette and dancing lessons that annoyed him. What he had sensed from Zechs in the latter part of the day felt unlike those past instances of annoyance, and Quatre was willing to err on the side of caution when dealing with his friend. Annoyed psychics needed to be handled with a fair amount of cautious respect. Something was obviously bothering his friend this evening. It had begun at the University in the latter half of the afternoon, whilst they had been in attendance at the Assembly. His first indication of something being amiss was when Zechs had begun to focus his attention across the hall, but seemed unable to focus on any one particular individual. It was not exactly an uncommon reaction from a high level empath given the amount of people present at the assembly. He had become increasingly distracted and displayed all the signs of a classic Marquise brooding session while they had waited to be escorted to their new accommodations. He had not even appeared to hear the standard lecture given by the Master of the University, reminding those to be accommodated off campus to always remember the prestige and control required of Tsuberov students. Quatre grinned at Duo, hoping the smile did not come out strained. He had a bad feeling the news would not be greeted well by Zechs, but he was dealing with Duo now, not the taller blonde. He could hope Zechs would take the news better than Duo who, he suspected, had been making plans which did not include remaining at the hotel. He could just imagine the repercussions if Duo took licence with their liberty from campus security. He could ignore the question of how Zechs would react for now and attempt to keep Duo from getting himself expelled. “Admittedly I can say, with a fair degree of certainty, there will be no pizza on the menu, but there is only one way to find out.” Duo blinked, considered the prospect of sitting in a no doubt glamorous and tastefully decorated, but still very formal, restaurant. They would be surrounded by business tycoons and their associates, politicians and the nobility of old Europe. There was sure to be social butterflies discussing frivolous shopping sprees, or the boyfriend of a friend; and certainly the supposedly secret affair of a friend with said friends wife or husband. Duo cringed. “Room service?” He suggested hopefully, turning puppy dog eyes on Quatre. “Restaurant.” Quatre insisted, deliberately not meeting those huge soulful eyes. He had been caught too many times by that look; he was not about to suffer through dinner with Duo’s huge violet eyes blazing in his memory. The things he had found himself doing after looking into those eyes did not bare thinking about. He had expected his father to have a few comments about disciplinary action in response to some of those forays, but the elder Winner had been oddly silent on the matter. He was not sure if he should be relieved, or worried, that the axe had not fallen during his visit to the colonies. “Turn off the eyes, Maxwell, they won’t work. This is not my doing but a directive from the University. We have to go and that is that. Zechs!” Duo blinked and settled for pouting instead. “You are so ruining my night, you know that?” “It can’t be helped, so be brave.” Quatre frowned at the door to the third bedroom which remained stubbornly closed. “Zechs!” Duo sauntered over to one of the leather arm chairs and sprawled casually, legs hooked over the overstuffed arm. He was decidedly out of sorts, knowing at least for this night he was not going to escape, but there was always tomorrow night. Nor did he need to subside gracefully, he was within his rights to be a pain and he needed to extract some pleasure from the disagreeable notion. “He’s not in a good mood, you know. It might be best for us all to beg off and keep him here, nice and quiet.” Duo suggested, ever hopeful. “I don’t think he’s dealing too well with being away from the superior shielding of the University.” “The hotel has shields to keep the general ‘noise of the city’ out of its ‘public’ areas, or it would never have been chosen by Tsuberov.” Quatre shot down Duo’s suggestion before he could begin to use Zechs, and his mood, to escape the formality of the evening. “Their shields are not as good as the ones at the University.” Duo muttered, knowing few establishments had the kind of protection Tsuberov employed for the comfort of its students. “Believe me, the shields are just as good as the Universities.” Quatre snapped back and strode to the bedroom door, knocking firmly in a no nonsense fashion. “Zechs, come on. We have reservations for seven thirty.” After a moment the door snapped open, startling Quatre into a step backwards and a pale blonde head appeared around the door frame. Blue eyes raked over first Quatre and then Duo, where he slouched in the armchair, before returning to Quatre. “Reservations for what?” “Dinner.” Quatre heaved a long suffering sigh. He had an awful feeling it was going to be a long night, and it would be he the University Masters would expect to keep his roommates in line. “In the hotel restaurant in half an hour.” “I thought we could order room service.” There was no hint of that being a question and the older blonde scowled at Quatre, looking a little flushed. Duo grinned triumphantly at Quatre. “Room service is good.” The glare he received from Quatre rocketed Duo out of the armchair and wiped the smirk off his face. “Ahm. Sure, Kitty Kat. Restaurant is fine.” Zechs turned his scowl on the braided Sweeper, eyeing him from the top of his chestnut head to the tip of his sock clad feet. “What do we want to go down there for?” //I so do not want to be in the middle of this.// Duo decided watching Quatre, who was glaring at him, and Duo knew it would be more than his life was worth to back Zechs. It was not going to be a good night at all and, whatever happened, somehow Duo knew the finger of blame would invariably point to him. For some reason, even when he was innocent, he ended up looking guilty. “To be sociable?” Duo offered, hoping to escape from the pair before he was singed. Quatre smirked, turning his attention to Zechs and knowing he would probably regret this later. Zechs tended to have a long memory when it came to being reminded of his place as a Tsuberov student, and it was something Quatre generally tried to avoid. It was, however, one of the few times when Zechs actually needed reminding of what it meant to be educated at Tsuberov. “We are Tsuberov students and represent our University at any and all times of the day or night. We are here as Tsuberov students and at Tsuberov’s expense, and as such we are required by the Board of Governors to comport ourselves in accordance with their instruction. A table has been reserved for all of us at seven thirty to meet for a social dinner. The option to refuse was not presented by the Master.” “All of us?” Zechs inclined his head slightly in question, moving to stand in the doorway proper and tower over Quatre. “All of us, as in everyone who has been moved into the hotel while the dormitory block is undergoing repairs, and a certain number of guests for the evening. We are to meet in the formal dining room for a shared meal and social conversation will be expected, as will exemplary manners. While none of us particularly have to like it, we do need to maintain our standing as Tsuberov students.” Maybe, Quatre dared to think, this might not be so difficult. At least Zechs appeared to be listening to him. Zechs snorted softly, an action which said clearly enough what he thought of Quatre’s commentary. “What are you bothering me for? You know I am never included in those things.” Duo’s eyes widened and he took a strategic step back, placing the chair between him and the pair. He just knew what Quatre’s reaction to that comment would be, and he wanted to be divorced from the proceedings. Being a neutral body was not only a diplomatic position to take, it was also potentially lifesaving. “Damn it all, Zechs Marquise, will you get it through your thick head you…!” Quatre heaved a deep breath, snapping his mouth closed, but he did not relinquishing the glare. “We are required to attend the evening meal in the formal dining room. At the request of the Master I acknowledged the reservations made for us to attend said meal. You were included in the head count, of that I can assure you, and you will not be excused because of a temper tantrum. Get over it. Now if Mr. Marquise would kindly get out of his snit, and go and change into something more appropriate for the occasion, I would appreciate not being last to arrive. I have never approved of being ‘fashionably late’.” //Wow.// Duo backed another step, eyes widening. //I so don’t want to be here if they start flinging compliments at each other backed by psi talent. Damn, what has Zechs so riled he set Quatre off? Maybe I should try to break this up before it goes any further?// Zechs scowled and his voice was a deep, mellow purr. “Something more appropriate?” Duo shifted uncomfortably back another step. //Shit no, I’m not that brave.// Crystal blue eyes blazed with growing temper. “I am more likely to tell them exactly what I think of them instead of simpering and pretending to enjoy being used as a floor mat, Winner.” //Winner? Now I know something is wrong and it’s not minor, whatever it is. Who said what to get him all pissy?/ Quatre was obviously as aware as Duo something was very wrong with their roommate and was equally as unaware as Duo as to what it could be. Stamping on his temper and the urge to lash back verbally, Quatre instead channelled his empathy toward Zechs, hoping to calm the older man down. A near Prime in this temper was not good, and Quatre was wishing they did not have to make an appearance tonight. He would by far have preferred to remain in the suite himself and work on sorting out this temper tantrum. “There are many things I could be doing this evening I would enjoy a great deal more than attending a formal dinner, however, that is what we are required to do. I don’t know what has your blood pressure up, but I would appreciate it if you dealt with it. Slap down some shields before we walk out that door, or you will find yourself back under sedation and a psyche evaluation.” “Ah, the voice of reason speaks.” Zechs snapped. “Always the reasonable one, aren’t you Winner?” The leggy blonde was generating menace and even Duo, who was not in the least empathic, could plainly feel the rise in tension coming from him. It would be worse for Quatre who was a level ten empath, though insufficiently trained to acquire the Prime designation. //Ouch.// Duo watched as Quatre clenched his fists and the intense blue of his eyes seemed to shimmer. //He’s trying to influence Zechs? Damn, no, that’s just too dangerous. Zechs has way more training and could slap him into the middle of next week if he wanted to.// In the next couple of seconds it became obvious that Quatre’s attempt to soothe the older student with his own empathic ability had been sensed and his efforts rebuffed. “Back off, Winner.” Marquise growled, blue eyes flaring with irritation. “I don’t need you meddling in my head any more than I need that Oriental git calling me a…” Zechs snapped his jaw closed, blue eyes darkening in sudden confusion. Quatre sucked in a steadying breath and swallowed with difficulty, aware of the locking up of emotion and the effort being made by Zechs to establish control. //Crap. I thought he was going to haul off and slap Quatre down. Something is wrong about this whole thing. That sort of display just is not Zechs… and what Oriental git?// Duo watched, wide eyed as the tall blonde wavered a moment, one hand lifting slightly as though to touch Quatre, not in violence, but in an unspoken appeal. The smaller man reached out cautiously, giving Zechs time to ward him off if he did not want the contact, but he was not rebuffed. Quatre gently locked his fingers in the raised hand and Duo knew he was projecting calming emotions. Soothing emotions Zechs did not try to block. “So… Can someone tell me what is going on?” “It’s alright, Duo.” Quatre murmured, focusing on the link being established between he and the older psi. Zechs was beginning to open up his shields, using the calm Quatre was generating to sort out his own perceptions. The Winner heir suspected Zechs was more shaken by this turn of events than either he or Duo. They just needed a few minutes to establish control points, and if possible he needed Zechs to let him in beyond level two access. Zechs had never permitted him any deeper in his psyche than level two, and Quatre was almost certain that restricted access was not going to be sufficient on this occasion. ”Zechs is not quite himself at the moment. My guess is he must be channelling strong emotion from someone else. We just need a few minutes to strengthen his barriers. We can be fashionably late this once. We can make a grand entrance and show them all how dashing we are.” Duo arched an eyebrow. Zechs was channelling someone? Tapping into someone who was obviously in an antagonistic frame of mind. Considering the artificial shields installed in the suite, and the natural shields Zechs normally maintained against intrusion by the rest of the world, the source of this emotion had to be a high level talent. If the person was not within the precincts of the hotel, then the degree of talent went up exponentially. The source of origin had to be either an empath or a telepath, if not a dual talent, and Zechs was going to need to strengthen his shields against the unintentional intrusion. “Will you let me in?” Quatre murmured, lifting his free hand to rest his finger tips lightly on the taller blonde’s cheek. “It’s alright. I… know what is happening now. Just give me a few minutes to strengthen my barriers. I’m… I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean to… ” “No need to apologize.” Quatre smiled slightly, “You were, literally, not yourself there for a few minutes. We will need to work on your shields and we should report what happened.” He hated to do it to his room mate, but such instances as this could not be ignored. The Training Master in charge of Zechs would need to be notified and the incident investigated, to ensure Zechs could be better protected in the future. It could mean months of additional work, but for his sanity there could be no avoiding the necessity of additional shield training. His suggestion was not greeted with enthusiasm, but he had known Zechs would not welcome it. What he had not expected was to feel Zechs tighten up against him for an instant, blocking him out before he recovered. The links opened, granting him access and Zechs began drawing from him again, using his generated emotion to establish firmer control of himself. He was once again restricted to level two access and he felt the barrier holding him firmly away from deeper contact. “I don’t think I want to do that. Not at the moment.” The husky whisper was barely audible to Quatre standing directly in front of him. “We can’t take chances, Zechs, and you know it. Any breach of your shields is simply not on; it’s dangerous to you and to others. We don’t know who you were reacting to and…” “No!” An instant of panic flashed through the shared link before it was quashed. “No, I… I know what… I know who I was reacting to and it was… it’s my fault. I really don’t want to let anyone else know.” The blonde head dipped lower, long hair and artfully ragged bangs hiding his face from sight. Somehow Quatre had known Zechs would claim responsibility for this. He seemed to have accepted that no matter what happened around him, he would be found to be in the wrong. “How is it your fault? If you don’t want me to call for a technician, and have you secluded in a shielded room until they find out who is broadcasting, and shut them down, then you have to be honest with me.” Zechs looked up quickly and Duo arched an expressive eyebrow at the older man’s blush, the colour flooding into his face before he ducked his head, hiding again, though he made no move to escape Quatre’s touch. It was hardly the reaction Duo had been expecting, and from Quatre’s obvious surprise he had not expected it either. Curious aqua blue met intrigued blue-violet and they turned to the rangy blonde with matched speculation. “Zechs?” Quatre was aware he was treading on ground fraught with danger by pushing the point, but he felt he needed to. Zechs was no shy and retiring wallflower, though his preference was to keep a low profile. Quatre was only too aware the majority of the student body saw only a limited aspect of the young man. There was more than a street wise rebel hidden away beneath the persona he presented to the world. Few people ever saw the curiously innocent persona now peeking through. Quatre had only glimpsed this aspect of Zechs twice in the years they had known each other. “Please. It was my fault and I’ve repaired and restored my shields. This has nothing to do with… I really would prefer to keep him out of it. They would need to notify him and I… don’t…” The husky voice trailed into silence. //Him?// Duo fought the urge to grin. This was not the time to be amused, not in the face of worried innocence. The street wise rebel would have laughed with him, but the innocent Zechs Marquise persona would be mortified and run. //You didn’t pick up on what he just said, did you Quatre? Not like you to miss something that obvious.// Quatre frowned. “I don’t think it would be wise…” “Ah, Kitty Kat.” Duo was watching Zechs with bright eyes and he kept his grin down to a shadow, a ghost of what he really wanted to project. Manic glee was uncalled for in this situation. “I think we should leave it for now. Just help Zechsy get his shields sorted out and we’ll go down to dinner.” Quatre turned to Duo, looking torn between assisting one friend, and explaining to the other the importance of the problem. Duo was not an empath, let alone a powerful one, and so could not understand the complexities needing to be dealt with before Zechs would be considered ‘safe’. “Duo, you don’t understand, this could be dangerous, and not just for Zechs. The technicians and his Training Master really need to know about the breach of his shields.” “Ah, no, I don't think so.” Duo moved around the chair and reached to lightly touch Quatre’s shoulder, allowing him to read through the touch Duo’s certainty they needed to leave Zechs alone. At least for now. He could have his fun later, after they had all calmed down, and Zechs had a chance to recover from his embarrassment. “What we need to do is change into something more appropriate and go to dinner. Trust me on this, Kitty Kat. It won’t be a problem once Zechs sorts his shields out. Now please, tell me we are to be spared the necessity of wearing the Tsuberov uniform?” Maintaining his hold on Zechs Quatre stared at Duo, aware of the flow of emotion he was reading from the Sweeper. Duo seemed to know something he did not, and what he read from Zechs was a level of embarrassment he had never encountered from the older man before. Zechs felt very strongly about something, and Duo seemed to be way ahead of Quatre in figuring out exactly what the cause of the scene was. Quatre was not too sure he liked being in the dark on something Duo had figured out so easily. He could feel Zechs shuttering away his emotions, erecting screens around his mind, locking away his thoughts; thoughts which Quatre had never been able to read as well as he could read emotions. Zechs still would not look up and meet his eyes and he sensed a heartfelt desire to avoid further questions and to be believed. To be trusted to know his limits and his ability to recognize his own mistakes and deal with them. Glancing at Duo he caught the small nod, the flicker of blue-violet toward the taller blonde and the mouthed words, ‘Leave it for now.’ Quatre sighed. “We are not required to wear the school colours. We are requested to present ourselves in a neat and tidy fashion, acceptable to the standards of the establishment we are to frequent this evening.” //At least it was not the straight jacket.// Duo mused, relieved Quatre seemed to have capitulated. Tsuberov had a formal uniform the Board of Governors required be worn for formal dinners at Tsuberov. The uniform was, in his opinion, down right ugly and an abuse to every fashion rule ever devised over a period of three hundred years. Not a single male student at the University with an ounce of good taste, wished to be seen dead in it, even the colour was horrendous in Duo’s opinion. Out of the entire male population there were less than a handful of students who could manage to look good in it. That Zechs was one of those few, and loathed it so much, amused Duo to no end. “Well, that is something at least.” Zechs muttered, pulling back from Quatre. Duo, being Duo and wanting to break the tension, could not resist the opening. “Come on, Zechs, give the ladies a treat and show off those lovely long legs of yours. You know you look good in the uniform.” Blue eyes widened and he shot a scowl at the Sweeper, caught the wink directed at him and snarled in response. “Would Maxwell like to wear his trousers over his head and wander through the foyer without the grace of boxers? It can be arranged, you know. I am certain the sight of your naked butt will give the ladies of high society a thrill.” The bedroom door slammed behind him. Quatre winced and sighed, turning to Duo who was grinning like the Cheshire cat. “He’s not in a good mood is he?” Duo snickered. “Should make for an interesting night.” “I am unimpressed, Duo, both by your baiting him, and by his present condition. He needs to report this incident to a technician.” “Nah, Quatre. He needs to be left alone to get Treize Kushrenada out of his system; that is what he needs.” Duo returned, his smirk widening. Quatre did a double take. “Kushrenada? What has he to do with…” Quatre fell silent and considered Duo for a long moment, absently running a hand over his pressed slacks, blue eyes narrowing the more he thought about Duo’s comment. “Yeah. The Prime Kushrenada. Met him today, didn’t he? Close up and personal type, meet and greet. Zechs hasn’t been quite right since, has he?” “You think he’s reacting to meeting the Duke? I know Primes are capable of making an impression on a person, but Zechs should be well and truly over that by now.” “You are not thinking, Kitty Kat.” Duo waggled a finger at his friend. “At least, not with your hormones, you aren’t.” “Hormones? What are you… Oh.” Quatre found himself blushing, suddenly aware of exactly what Duo was implying. “You think Zechs… Oh!” Duo had to suppress the snicker at Quatre’s expression. Some days, for an empath, Quatre could be quite slow. “Yeah. I think Zechsy was impressed, on more than one level, with his Primeness the Duke. I’m not an idiot, you know, I am well aware of the kind of impression a Prime talent has on people fortunate enough to meet them. Let’s face it, Zechs hasn’t reacted to anyone on an intimate personal level before; not since I’ve known him. I think he’s got the hots for that piece of hot stuff, and I think he might have inadvertently tapped into something he should not have. Now I’m not saying it was deliberate, maybe he was just doing a little innocent daydreaming. Think about it. Maybe Duke hottie was in a snit and telling off his side kick.” “Side kick?” “When Otto introduced them there was an Oriental there, short, dark and glaring thunderclouds at Kushrenada. What the heck were you looking at, hmm? Were you not paying attention to what was going on?” Quatre blushed. He had been focused on Zechs getting the attention he actually deserved, given his talents, and not on who was in attendance; though now he thought on it there had been a short, dark haired man with Otto and the Duke. He fought off the urge to squirm uncomfortably beneath that piercing, all too astute, gaze; no one made Quatre Winner squirm. Well, no one other than his father. “Treize Kushrenada would have had to make quite an impression to cause Zechs to act like a love stuck school boy.” “Seems so.” Duo snickered. “Quite an impression, not that I’ll be making a comment to Zechsy. I think it best if we baby him a bit tonight. We should keep an eye on him at dinner, just in case he gets a bit snappy and backslides. Will you be able to pick up any trouble from him before it goes far enough to cause a scene, and we have our erstwhile chaperones interfering?” “Yes, I will maintain a focus on him through dinner, just to be on the safe side.” “Pity Zechsy never asked who my spunky bunn’s was. I may never see him again, and I never even learned his name. Now that is a calamity.” “Duo.” The long suffering Winner sighed, wafting a hand in the general direction of Duo’s bedroom. “Go and get dressed.” The irrepressible grin was back. “Can I wear my hair down?” He wiggled his eyebrows and posed. “Bet you I have all the ladies green with envy they don’t have my chestnut mane.” “Only if you want to end up eating it.” Quatre muttered and turned toward his own room. He thought his bed would be far preferable to facing the prospect of a long, boring meal, while waiting to nip trouble in the bud. Duo paused in the doorway to his room and glanced back over his shoulder. “I still don’t understand why we have to go to dinner. It would be way less of a hassle to have it sent up.” “We are not the only Tsuberov students now in residence, and I was under the impression we will not have to sit a formal dinner in the restaurant every evening. We would stand out like sore thumbs if we failed to turn up tonight, and given our past record I think it would be best to make an appearance.” Duo frowned thoughtfully at Quatre. “You did ring and make certain Zechs is on the guest list, didn’t you?” “I did and you will be thrilled to know we have a very select guest list for this dinner. I was quite impressed when I learned the highest profile students from Tsuberov will be in attendance, as well as the Dean. He and the Master Instructor seem to be intent on making the evening something of a social occasion.” “Ah, please, say it ain’t so. Not the snobbiest bunch of pansies at the Uni?” Quatre rubbed at his temples. “Ain’t ain’t grammar and you ain’t gonna use it, are you?” Quatre glared at his companion, lips quirked in a smirk. Duo grinned, he was rather proud of Quatre for resisting threatening him with sanctions, and a return to the much hated language classes. “You have that a little wrong, Quatre. I believe that should be ‘Aint ain’t gramma and I aint gonna use it, are I.” He snickered. “I am so glad there are no witnesses to hear you at the moment. Language, Duo, or do you really want to go into deportment, language and etiquette classes again?” “Perish the thought, Kat.” Duo shuddered, disappointed Quatre had not resisted the urge to remind him. “I’ve had my fill of stuffed shirt lessons. So why would they want to make such a big song and dance about us staying here? I would have thought they would have wanted us to keep as low a profile as possible, not parade us to the uber rich and famous. With the security at Tsuberov I’m sure some days it’s a prison, not a school.” Quatre had to smile and opened the door to his bedroom, pausing to glance from Duo to the closed door of the room in between. “I think the Board of Governors are nervous as hell because Prime Kushrenada was at the University, and he noticed Zechs.” Zechs appeared in the doorway, proving he was aware of their conversation. He was shirtless, a small golden locket swinging at his breast, and dressed in black dress pants and boots. He looked a little flushed and glared first at Duo and then at Quatre. “Why would they be nervous?” Why indeed, Quatre mused. There was something very off about the situation Zechs found himself in, and the absence of pre contractual discussions was only the tip of the iceberg. It was very possible the evening’s plans might have been formulated with the express purpose of offering a show of visibility, which included the soon to be Prime. The University could hardly be accused of hiding Zechs if he was eating in one of the cities most exclusive restaurants. Still, it seemed like a great deal of trouble to go through. To Quatre it would make more sense had an announcement been made concerning a pre contractual discussion for an upcoming Prime’s contract term. “Duke Kushrenada noticed you. He is not a man you forget easily, and he is not a man to be underestimated. I will bet you any wager you care to offer, the word has gone around to the other Primes in your field; not only that you are here, but also that you are approaching graduation. I would be very surprised if, within the week, the Dean does not receive preliminary questionnaires on your development to date, and the projections expected by your graduation. Prime’s are rare in any field, rarest in your field, and you will be one of ten strong enough, and sane enough to handle the ability.” Zechs shrugged. “So? Some days I doubt my sanity, and the sanity of anyone who thinks its great to achieve Prime status.” The prestige of being a Prime was all well and good, but Quatre, who had grown up with wealth, position and prestige, knew too well the weight of responsibility that went with it. Zechs would not appreciate the rise in profile the Duke’s unexpected appearance was bound to cause. “There is going be a stir when you graduate as a Dual Class Prime, I have tried telling you before. My father was interested after meeting you, and Winner Corporation already employs two Telepathic Empaths of Prime class ranking. They are a bonded pair, but he’d be a fool not to be hopeful of managing to snare a third. All it would take for him to jump into the bidding for a contract would be for one, or both, of the Winner Primes to mention you are expected to graduate with full prime status. His lawyers would be working on a contract to present at a pre contract discussion before you had time to blink.” “Gee, it’s so nice to be popular suddenly.” Sarcasm fairly dripped from each word. “Get used to it, Zechs. Prime Kushrenada knows about you, which means all of the Primes will know about you soon, if they don’t already. When Primes talk, people listen. I think it fairly safe to say Tsuberov will become the focus of attention during the interim term of contract discussions by any business, or political party, which thinks it can afford your contract.” Zechs snorted softly and tossed a heavy lock of pale hair over his shoulder. “I think you have forgotten my Guardian seems to have my contract firmly under his control.” It was Quatre’s turn to snort, and he teamed it with a snigger for good measure. “I believe you will find your Guardian will know when to back down, and follow proceedings to the letter of the law.” “I prefer the idea of being ignored.” Zechs scowled. “Somehow I think it was more peaceful when no one wanted to know about me.” “Well, I hope you enjoyed it while it lasted.” Duo grinned at the older man. “I have to agree with Kitty Kat. I’d say those days are over and done with.” Zechs rubbed at his temples, forcing himself not to snap at the young man who seemed to go out of his way to annoy him, and not always for a laugh. “I don’t want the attention, Duo. I have a hard enough time performing to Tsuberov’s exacting standards, without the weight of the world watching me. All I want to do is graduate with reasonable grades, and have a fair chance of enjoying working where ever I am placed.” “You’ve got as much chance of that happening as a baked fart in a pickle bottle has of being mistaken for lavender perfume. So, Kitty Kat, who do we expect for dinner?” Quatre was staring at Duo with his lower jaw agape and as the silence lengthened Duo glanced between the two blondes, bewildered by their expressions. Zechs was staring at him as though he had grown two heads and Quatre seemed to be having difficulty in closing his mouth. “What?” “A baked fart?” Quatre whispered. “In a pickle bottle?” Zechs arched a regal white eyebrow. “Gah, you two are just so…” Duo searched for an adequate description and shrugged. “So who is coming to dinner?” Quatre grinned, exchanging amused looks with Zechs “The Dean, the Security Chief, the History Master and Science Mistress, the Master Technician from the Laboratories and eleven students, not counting us.” “Great. Just wonderful.” Zechs growled. Duo blinked. “So how many of the dinner guests are actually staying at the hotel?” “Other than we three? Five students, I believe, plus Mr. Abrams. The remainder of the student count will be arriving with the Dean and the Science Mistress and the Master Tech. Abram’s will be assigned as our Supervisor whilst we are resident here; and I believe Otto will be resident as well. He will, of course, be in charge of the Security arrangements and liaison with Hotel security. I believe I overheard some of the Masters talking about him escorting us to the uni every day, to ensure we don’t skip classes.” “Ah, shit. Otto will be staying here? Damn.” Duo had no doubt the Security Chief would be expecting him to try something, and be alert for any attempt he might make to escape the hotels precincts. Otto’s presence would severely curtail his activities. Zechs, following the recitation, rolled his eyes and retreated into his room, but through the open door they had no difficulty overhearing his sarcastic rejoinder. “Damn. Where did I put those short pants? I feel like I’m six years old.” Duo abandoned his room in favour of joining Quatre in the door to his bedroom, and dropped his voice to a confidential whisper. “How much of that was bullshit?” “Bullshit?” Quatre queried. “Yeah. How much of what you said about dinner was designed, by you, specifically to annoy Zechsy?” Quatre sighed and with finger tip touch turned Duo back toward his room, and gave his friend a small push to get him started. “None of it. They really are coming to dinner tonight, and we really are being escorted to and from the campus daily. Now go and get dressed, we are going to be rather unfashionably late.” Duo stared solemnly at his friend before taking the hint and retreating to his bedroom. “Why do I have this annoying certainty we are not being told the whole story about what is going on?” Quatre sighed and leaned against the door frame rubbing a hand over his eyes. He was tired and would have preferred to order in pizza and crash in what looked to be a rather nice bed. The tensions of the last half an hour, and assisting Zechs to regain his shields integrity, had left him feeling drained. “I know what you mean. The Dean was… worse than usual this morning, and last night… I had nightmares about him wanting to tuck me in.” “Scary shit.” ———————————————————- //Where are you?// The pain was much reduced from the piercing all consuming agony which had driven him into his dark and secure retreat. The thundering tumult of his heart had reduced to the point where he could hear more than the rapid thunder of each beat. //I will find you.// The throbbing behind his eyes was now a persistent, low level annoyance which, while it muted his perceptions, did not stop him from being aware of his surroundings. //They have hidden you from me, but that is alright. They can not hide you from me indefinitely.// It was his own fault he lived now with pain. He had done too much, overstretched himself and that was purely his fault. In his eagerness to see and touch what was long denied him, he had moved too quickly. The mistakes were his and he deserved the punishment of pain. //I am worthy of you, and only you are worthy of my touch. Only you are worthy of the pleasure I can give.// The darkness was almost complete, the heavy drapes drawn to exclude the daylight from his safe haven, were now no longer required. He could get up, if he wanted to, and pull the curtains aside, and admire the darkness of the night. He could imagine walking arm in arm with the beauty who was his alone, through moonlighted gardens. The night would be wondrous, the moon shining on his hair. No one other than he was worthy of admiring such beauty by moonlight. //Where are you? Where have they taken you?// In the darkness the pain was muted, almost distant. Light made the pain a mad thing, alive and all consuming, and only the deep night gave him rest. Light was too much for his sensitive eyes, and the activities of so many people through the day was a source of pain that shattered his thoughts. They had warned him there would be instances where he must seek seclusion. Warned him he must forever walk in shadows, or have his awareness stripped from him. The world was full of wonders, and the head blind could not understand the beauty witnessed by the truly gifted. He had been warned to go with care and he had erred, becoming enraptured with the idea of touching his heartfelt desire. //My mistake, and now I must heal. I can make no more errors; I must not repeat the same mistakes again. I will grow stronger and when I am free of this pain... I can claim what is mine.// It was night out there now, and undoubtedly His wondrous perfection was enhanced by sleep He might have sought Him out, perhaps woken Him from peaceful dreams; shown Him what it was to be adored and, perhaps, even tempt Him back to his bed. Ah, the touch of Him would be magic, pure, elemental magic. His scent would be all captivating, drawing him on and guiding him unerringly to his desire. But for this to happen, first the pain must go. He must, once more, be able to walk in the light without cringing and weeping from consuming agony. His back was pressed reassuringly into the solidity of his bed. The world still had a tendency to waver about him, so much so that he dared not attempt to stand, not even to draw aside the curtain and look upon the midnight world. It would come, though. The pain was much reduced and would go, leaving him free once more. He would seek out his future and claim Him. //I can not permit them to hide you from me forever. I need only pass through the pain, and find the quiet place once more.// It would be very good indeed to be free of pain. A smile curved full lips and his fingers curled gently, feeling phantom strands of silken hair and warm flesh. So perfect and, beyond a doubt, his to admire and protect and claim. The pain was easing. It would not be long now. Trembling fingers closed on the hypodermic and dragged the small vial toward him. It would take a little more of the drug to ease the pain enough for him to move freely, but it was worth the risks. He would need more of course. He would need to have his house in order for the day he brought his lover home. ——————— “God. I hate mornings.” Sunlight streamed into his office and lent everything a cheery brightness. He grimaced and rubbed his eyes with a weary hand. Sunlight aggravated his throbbing headache, and reminded him of just how comfortable his bed was. He had not had the pleasure of enjoying a bed for any more than four hours or so a night, for the last few days. Even a steaming hot shower and a hearty breakfast, that tasted curiously like soggy cardboard, had done little to ease the headache. //Bloody neural net.// The headaches would pass, his physicians had assured him. The discomfort would fade. The surgeon had been specific about the dosages he was to take of his pain meds. He needed to function, to keep his thought processes clear and on track, and the headache just kept pounding away at him; distracting him and reminding him he had missed two scheduled doses of medication in less than twenty four hours. Taking two blood red pills in hand he swallowed them, with a healthy swig of cooling coffee as a chaser. He settled back into his seat, closing his eyes against the invading sunlight, and wished he did not have to face the day. The finding of the body, the nightmare of rearranging security around the hotel, and securing a transport loop between the university and hotel… it was never ending. His stress levels were through the roof, his blood pressure too high and his physicians would be in fits of outrage if they could have monitored him now. He had a scheduled scan in a week to ensure there were no problems with the neural net and by then, hopefully, he would have the problems associated with corpses in dormitories and stalkers resolved. Groaning at the knock on his door he swung his feet to the floor and straightened his shoulders. He had work to do, and wallowing in self pity was not a part of that work. “Come.” His assistant, and an armload of paperwork, presented himself and deposited the offending folders neatly on thw desk. A clipboard was proffered, together with a pen and Otto sighed, dismissing thoughts of bed and focusing on the tasks at hand. The headache would just have to be ignored, as he had been ignoring it for the past two days. “This is the most urgent; authorization is required for the modifications to the security system in the dormitory block.” No need to ask which building was requiring a complete overhaul. There was only one dormitory of interest at this time, and while it was in its current deplorable condition he had taken the opportunity to upgrade its security systems. The Board of Governors had not so much as quivered at the projected price tag, too frightened something might happen to their precious Mr. Winner. He looked over the listings, and the prices quoted, and decided it could have been worse. A second clipboard replaced the first, with barely sufficient time for him to lift the pen from the paper. A list of camera placements to be approved, both upgrading existing networks and installing new systems, to improve the coverage of the grounds surrounding the dormitory. A light tap on the door found Otto looking into the Dean’s worried eyes. He was not particularly thrilled to be faced with the man at this early hour, there was work neglected for two days to catch up on, before the investigators returned to the campus. There would be sure to be further complications to be handled given the Agency investigation; there were always complications. Hargraves himself should have had a desk overflowing with neglected paperwork. //I am not paid enough.// Otto nodded briefly to the Dean, motioning for him to enter and have a seat while he quickly perused the facts and figures, jotted down a notation or two, and finally set his signature to the report. Passing the clipboard back to his subordinate he waved the man toward the door. “That’s fine. Run another check of the camera feeds on blocks D and E; I want a visual done on every millimetre of wiring. They are to look for any sign of potential splicing into the camera systems, and I want the new circuit diagrams for the security feed on my desk by mid afternoon.” “Sir.” The door closed on the assistant’s heels and Otto leaned back in his chair, pushing the pile of folders to one side. With his junior occupied and free for the moment to ignore the waiting paperwork, Otto turned his attention to the man watching him from across the desk. “What can I do for you, Sir?” “Was there any disturbances involving Winner’s suite last night?” He supposed he could not blame the man for panicking, given the disaster and the risks involved in moving the students off the grounds. Day three would hopefully present some resolution, and no additional upset to the routine of the student body. Two days of unmitigated disaster was proof positive even the much touted Tsuberov security systems were not immune to breaches. Why should anyone trust a hotel’s security system over the extensive set up Tsuberov boasted? First the body in the refrigerator, and the very next morning the suite was torn apart, both incidents at least indirectly involving the Winner heir. If the breach in security became generally known, Tsuberov’s standing as the safest place for the rich and famous to educate their offspring would be torn to shreds. The Board of Governors were probably on Hargraves back to deal with the trouble quickly and quietly. Expediently, they would say, deal with it expediently. “There were no problems with the security at the hotel. I escorted all eight of the students to the university this morning with no trouble, though they are united in their disapproval for being dragged out of bed at five in the morning.” He was not too thrilled at the idea of having to be up at four to ensure everyone else was on time. There had to be less stressful employment opportunities out there somewhere. Dark eyebrows liberally dusted with white arched to meet the Dean’s hairline. “What on earth did you drag them out of bed at that hour of the morning for?” “Mr. Marquise is slated for an early class. I am lacking sufficient manpower to have each and every student escorted between the university and hotel to meet individual class requirements. To allow time for them to dress and eat breakfast and have Marquise to class on time, a five o'clock alarm was required. I have discovered, to my disgust, most of the students at the hotel are not morning people. Coffee?” “Please.” The Dean watched as Otto poured him a cup and settled back into his chair. It was not until he had enjoyed a mouthful of the reviving brew that he leaned back in his seat, allowing himself a few minutes to relax. “Marquise. What am I going to do about him?” A tired sigh. “When I arrived at my office an hour ago, I found two notifications from Prime Telepathic Empaths waiting for me.” “Ah.” Otto sighed. “I was wondering how long it would take before word circulated.” “They wished to advise me as they have become aware we have a budding Prime talent, we are to be congratulated on training our first Prime.” The Dean snorted into his mug. “Damn Kushrenada for noticing him. The least he could have done was not spread the word.” There was an unspoken reprimand in that quiet voice and Otto had no trouble hearing it. Nor had he expected to be spared the blame for the turn of events that had revealed Zechs Marquise and his talent. The Dean was not the one who would have the most to say about that specific breach of security. “I could not very well refuse to make the introductions once the Duke requested he meet with Zechs. You do not refuse that man when he makes so simple, and reasonable, a request; not without having a very good reason. A reason, I might add, I did not have.” The Dean nodded and glowered into his mug. “We were requested to keep Marquise’s presence here low key, and that was going quite well until yesterday. How low key can we hope to keep him when every Prime Talent in the Earth Sphere knows he exists; and demands to know how many times a day he blows his nose?” Otto snickered into his mug and set the coffee aside. “I’m sorry, but I refuse to participate in counting tissues. If they want to know, they can count themselves.” Hargraves grinned, shaking his head. “There is nothing we can do about it. The word is out on him, and I can not see how we are going to be able to maintain a discreet screen around him. Primes talk, we know that only too well, and not just to their counterparts of similar talent. Before the end of the day I expect every Prime talent in the Earth Sphere Unified Nation to know the nine will become ten at the end of the school year. Every politician and business will know there is another one up for contract, and will want a piece of the action. If they have the bank balance for it.” “Have you received new instructions concerning the changed circumstances?” Otto queried. “There has been no response to my alert from his Guardian. I have no idea what his reaction to the situation will be, but I do know he will not be happy. I am expecting word from his benefactor today, possibly around noon. I would think that should give him sufficient time to determine what changes he wishes be made to Marquise’s education program and training schedules. No doubt he will detail alterations to his security needs as well. I will pass those along to you as soon as I receive them.” Otto nodded, turning the cup absently in circles. “I thought last night went well.” “Yes, rather better than I expected. Marquise could not be faulted on his deportment. He was better behaved than certain others I expected more of at the dinner. Do you think he seemed a little… out of sorts?” “You noticed that? Well, I am pleased it was not just me thinking he was a little off. He did not make a show to disgrace Tsuberov, and he ignored the sniping of Mueller gracefully enough. I am of the opinion he performed more than adequately given the occasion.” “Mueller is beginning to annoy me.” The Dean stared into his half empty mug and shrugged. “Zechs has the manners of a gentleman when he cares to exercise them, and fortunately last night was such an occasion. I can just imagine his benefactors reaction if Marquise had played up. He will undoubtedly be unhappy I held the dinner, but appearances must be maintained. It would have seemed notable if the Tsuberov students had not spent their first night as a group at the hotel.” “It went well, despite the odd slip from one or another of the students. Not even his Guardian could have faulted him.” Zechs had been a trifle preoccupied; Otto could only wonder what had demanded his attention. He had, however, been the epitome of the Tsuberov trained gentleman. He had been a far cry from the orphan who had too many street smarts and not enough manners, who had first arrived at the University. “I have to wonder how much longer he will tolerate these deportment lessons. I expected him to be kicking and screaming about continuing this year, and he has been disturbingly quiet. It is time he could better utilize to improve his grades and perfect his talent.” “You will not get an argument out of me. He is heartily fed up with the lessons and, if anything, they are reinforcing to him and everyone else at the University, his less than glowing background. He knows more about the do’s and don’t of polite society than those born and raised to the position.” “I don’t know how we are to improve on what he already knows. How are we supposed to make manners second nature to him? It is not as though he runs around swearing at everybody, and still his benefactor insists the lessons continue. He was on the streets too long to give up the speech and mannerisms completely. It is only natural he occasionally slip into a more relaxed vocabulary. He does not need constant reminding he was a street brat.” “I believe the better method now for improving his deportment would be to place him in the company of someone with the background of Prime Kushrenada. Breeding and training ooze from the Duke, and Zechs reacted to it on an unconscious level. Exposing him to someone like the Prime, who impressed him without even trying to, would be the best option for helping him to pick up the natural way of using the mannerisms he has been taught.” “Kushrenada could charm bees into abandoning a hive full of honey.” Hargraves pushed his cup aside and leaned back in his seat, studying Otto for a long moment before he decided he needed to speak. “Given his benefactor, can you honestly see permission being given for Marquise to associate with Kushrenada in the circles he keeps? We are supposed to be civilizing the young man, not giving him license to relapse into childhood habits.” Otto grinned, imagining the reaction should either of them dare to suggest to Marquise’s benefactor the young man be exposed to the Prime. It was not Kushrenada’s bloodline or rank that was the problem, but his lamentable occupation that worthy would object to. “In all fairness to the Duke, I do not believe he actually gutter crawls.” “Kushrenada’s association with the criminal elements of the ESUN, and the fact he turned his back on family traditions that have been the mainstay of our society for centuries, would be enough to give him apoplexy.” “Not everyone is cut out to be a politician simply because others in the family were politicians.” Otto grinned. “I have a lot of respect for that man. It took a great deal of guts to stand up to his family and come out of the fray smelling like a rose.” “I agree. Associating on a more relaxed and natural level, with those naturally born to high rank, would loosen up that stiffness in Marquise’s deportment. It is not likely to happen, though. My only hope is his Guardian does not make a fuss before the Board of Governors over this incident. I have nothing against the young man, Otto, but I wish they had placed him somewhere else. But they placed him here… and then they had to compound their error by enrolling the…” “Otto.” The office door opened and a tall form leaned through the door, the man having his attention focused on a sheaf of papers in his hand. “A request has come in from the Agency concerning those records you were requested to gather… Ah, sorry. I didn’t now you had company.” He had the grace to blush, and nodded in belated acknowledgement of the two men seated at the desk. Otto sighed softly, thankful for the reprieve. He had not been keen on pursuing the conversation down that rocky road, particularly as he agreed with certain arguments of the Dean; though not for the exact same reasons. Marquise had had to endure more stress than was technically required by being place within Tsuberov. He was of the opinion it would have been wiser to have installed him in another institution, for basic grounding in dealing with the strict regime required at Tsuberov. One year would not have been too much to ask, in his opinion, but no one had wanted to know it. “Come in, Jeremy. Next time knock.” Otto motioned the hastily retreating man to stay and turned back to the Dean, not averse to escaping an uncomfortable subject. “I will await further instructions, Sir, and act appropriately.” Hargraves nodded, rising and admitting to himself he had work to do he had neglected too long. He and Otto had had this discussion before, and he knew it placed the younger man in an awkward position. There were so few people who knew what was happening at Tsuberov, it was hard to avoid the subject when they had the time, and privacy, to indulge. “I will send word to you as soon as I receive instructions on what changes must be made. I am cancelling the dancing lessons until the dormitory block is repaired, that way at least the group can sleep to a more respectable hour. I believe Mr. Winner has a late training session this evening in lab three?” “Mr. Winner has a booking in laboratory three and Mr. Marquise, I believe, has a session in laboratory five. They are the only two students of the eight with scheduled Psi sessions after six o’clock this evening. I thought I might escort the others to their hotel, and then return to pick up Mr. Winner and Marquise around nine.” The Dean nodded. “Acceptable, provided neither leave the central enclosure.” Otto smirked. “I assure you, they will be monitored closely by my staff. I will be suggesting to them they take the opportunity to eat in the cafeteria, while I escort the other students to the hotel.” “Very well. One can only hope we can continue to maintain control of the situation.” Otto rose and shook the Deans hand and motioned to Jeremy to place the reports on his desk. “See the Dean out please, Jeremy.” Otto settled back in his seat as the door closed behind Hargraves and pressed his thumbs into his temples, massaging gently. The last thing he wanted to do was aggravate his headache by throwing himself into the puzzle of the stalker and the corpse, and how to keep control of the situation. He needed to discover what was going on under his very nose and sort the mess out. It was rather a humbling experience to see how easy it was for his security system to be breached. “Why the fuck didn’t the bloody stalker take a fancy to one of the students in another dormitory block?” It would have been so much easier and surely his headache would not be so bad if that had been the case. //He will have to do something. Not even he can keep this quiet forever.//
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