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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. Archive: Gundam Wing Universe [gundam-wing-universe.net]
//…// Thoughts
Chapter 40 A good nights sleep. //Yeah, that would be good.// He was a step closer to it. The pain that had pounded within his head was much reduced compared to what it had been when he had stepped into the shower. //I love little blue pills. Shit, thank you, who ever you are, who decided to have me room with empaths and telepaths.// A luxurious session soaking under sheeting hot spray with the shower head set to massage did wonders for the aches in muscles that had tightened in defence against pain that had not been purely physical. A careful massage while washing his hair, fingers kneading at his tender scalp with caution and careful calculation, further helped in relaxing him and easing the throbbing. A final long soak and body wash and then steady pressure from the massage setting as he rinsed himself off and he almost felt human. But a shower, wonderful as it had been, did nothing to answer his questions. He had so many questions and he was not going to garner any answers standing under the seemingly never ending supply of hot water. He was not likely to get many answers tonight, but he should be able to have at least a few of his questions answered. At least he might get enough information out of Quatre to progress to a stage where he could guess at some answers. With a low sigh he turned off the water, wrung the water as best he could from the sopping wet strands of his hair and stepped out of the cubicle to wrap his hair in a towel. It was always a nightmare drying his hair in that it took hours to accomplish and, given the hour of the night, he stared thoughtfully at the hair-dryer provided by the hotel as he wiped his body down. He really should consider using the hair-dryer in the interests of personal health-he did not want to catch a cold from sleeping in extremely wet hair-but neither did he particularly want to deal with the horrendous frizzy hair routine. Using a hair-dryer was guaranteed to give him all sorts of unwanted ‘bad hair day’ vibes. “Duo? Are you alive in there or have you gone down the drain?” Now that was cute, in a very Quatre way. He rubbed the towel over his head vigorously, discarded it and wrapped a dry towel in its place before wrapping his lower half in a dry towel and disposing of the two wet towels in the linen press for the staff to collect in the morning. He was sure the staff thought they ate towels in this suite the way they provided washing to be collected on a daily basis. Between himself, Zechs and Quatre they used at minimum nine towels in a single day. Tonight would be exceptional. “Very funny, Kitty Kat. I’m feeling much better, thank you.” And it was no lie, he was feeling considerably better than he had been when he entered the suite. Those magic blue pills more than lived up to their reputation and he could think again without being sure his head would explode from the effort. “I brought you some sweat pants as I didn’t see you grab a change of clothes.” Clothes were a good idea as he had not given a thought to what he would wear once he dried himself down. “Ahh… yeah. Thanks for that. I wasn’t thinking of anything but getting this head down to something approximating normal size. You can come in, I won’t blind you with my naked magnificence.” Quatre chuckled as he opened the door and stepped inside. “You are feeling better.” “Yeah, I am. Much better as it happens. I could still do with a dose of the old Winner magic though.” Aqua blue eyes flashed at him along with a wide grin. “Oh I said better, not normal. I fully intend to work on you for a bit, at least enough to get you purring and ready to sleep.” “You sound sexy when you say that. I don’t think Trowa would be too happy to hear you talking about getting anyone but him purring.” Quatre flushed a rich shade of pink at his teasing and followed it up with a wicked smile. “There is purring and then there is Purring. Has anyone really made you Purr, Duo?” “Maybe. That’s for me to know and you to NOT find out. How are they doing?” ‘They’ being the pair working in the sitting room, Quatre knew, and he inclined his head toward the room behind him. “Quite well. There is not much for me to do except track their vital statistics and write down the notations for the Prime to look over when they stop working.” “How is Zechsy comparing to the Prime?” Duo poked at the towel wrapped around his head and sighed, tossing it into the hamper and hunted around to find a third towel for his hair, wrapping it around his shoulders as he carefully gathered his hair and layered it over his shoulders in a bid to contain the drips. Quatre’s grin was almost parental as he extended a pair of grey training pants to Duo. “He’s rock solid, Duo. His readings almost exactly mirror the Prime’s. His Trainers could not help but be pleased with the readings I am logging. They’ll see just how steady he can work, I have no doubt of that.” “They won’t be too pleased with this whole thing. This kind of work is performed under controlled conditions in a laboratory, with a full monitoring team. You know it, Quatre, the Trainers and techs are going to go spare when they find out.” “I know, I know. I am well aware there will be repercussions from this, but Duo, I don’t believe for an instant that Zechs will suffer for it. If anything I think this session with the Prime will make, not break, him.” Duo shook his head slowly. “I hope you are right.” “He needed immediate attention, specialist help. That kind of help is not easy to come by, not on short notice. Prime Khushrenada offered to help and you don’t find a Prime T/E talent just anywhere.” “Yeah,” Duo took the pants and stepped behind the shower screen to dress without disturbing his friend who, he knew, was rather body shy. “So you say. I’d like to know just why it was necessary in the first place and one of the things I most want to know, is how the hell that Prime just happened to be close by to do it, whatever ‘it’ is that he’s doing.” “I am not entirely sure, but I would think what he would be doing is setting a shield; probably isolating, certainly containing, the memory. In the future Zechs can have someone access the repressed memory that is recurring more violently with each occasion it triggers. It is more intense each time it occurs and is harder to settle because it has not previously been dealt with, thus causing what can best be described as a panic attack, though it is not really a panic attack.” Duo blinked. “How long would… Huh? You said a repressed memory?” “I am uncertain as to the correct terminology, but it is as good a word to describe it as anything. I received the impression from what the Prime said that it is rather a nasty memory as it quickly sends Zechs into what has mistakenly been diagnosed as a panic attack.” “So all the attacks in the past… were reaction to a memory? Not a reaction to the stuck up pricks digging at him?” Quatre winced. “Language, Duo, and yes, I think so. Some memory from his past; something he has consciously forgotten about. The Prime believes he has been misdiagnosed and the panic reaction is not due to extreme stress given the change of environment he was thrust into and the outstanding sensitivity of his talent.” “Like I said, fancy pricks digging at him. So one of the trainers fucked up on the diagnosis? A head or two has to roll over that surely.” Quatre winced. “Language, Duo.” “Hey, I call ‘em as I see ‘em, Quatre and you have to admit, someone screwed up bad if this is a memory bothering Zechs the way it has been. It’s been years since he was first diagnosed. Not one of his Trainers has picked up on it being anything but a reaction to a change of social status before. That means they assumed and no one looked deep enough into it to get it right.” Duo’s grin was positively feral. “That, as I have heard so often before, is a mistake one can not make with a high talent psi.” “If the Prime is right, and we’ll know that soon enough, I guess. I do not doubt some questions will be asked and there may be a reprimand or two in the offing. Right now I am more concerned with you. I want to work with you and lower your stress levels a bit. Whatever happened to get you this tense?” Duo paused in the doorway of the shower, before tossing the towel he had been wearing into the linen hamper. “Ah, well… I sort of… Well…” How did he describe to Quatre what had happened, that he had been mentally influenced, without any safeguards or limitations set in place, by a first year student? In all honesty the Princess should not have been permitted off campus if her abilities were so untrained and powerful, and she had been leaving the campus regularly to his knowledge. Certainly this was not her first evening at the hotel charming the staff with Tsuberov’s good manners and, as Duo thought of it, drumming up business amidst the rich and famous who had developing psi children. And it said nothing for the strength of the shields surrounding his mind that he had thought, obviously mistakenly, were decent. Quatre’s eyes widened as he stared at his friend. “Duo? You are squirming! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do that before.” “Am not! Well, I guess you could say I… erm. I’m not really sure how to describe it. The Sanc Princess was all in a fluster and very demanding about coming up here to see Zechs.’ “Mmm, I sent her to you hoping with your irresistible charm you could get her attention off Zechs and give me some time to get him comfortable.” Duo scowled, rubbing absently at his right temple. His head was beginning to throb again. “Gee, thanks for that. Do you have any idea what her talent is, Quatre? Do you know just why she is here at Tsuberov?” Quatre frowned, reaching for Duo’s hair brush as his friend took the towel draped over his shoulders and rubbed vigorously at the trailing ends of his hair which was still dripping copious quantities of water down his back. He knew little of the psi abilities of the Sancian Royal Family, but he did recall that the King was a telepath with fairly strong ‘suggestion’ ability. He could clearly recall his father advising one of his executives, a moderate level telepath being sent to Sanc to initiate a business contract, to remember his shields at all time. It was considered manners amidst telepaths to maintain shields so as not to disturb another telepath, not solely to keep the contents of one’s own mind secure and to ensure confidential information remained confidential. Which of these criteria had been bothering his father at the time Quatre was uncertain. “I have no idea what the Princesses talent is, though I assume she is a telepath, perhaps with some small suggestion ability? I know the King is a Suggestor, of some notable degree of talent, I think. I have no idea what her mother is though. I would think she would be an empath or telepath given the King’s talent. They would not want to introduce too many psi variants into a single bloodline.” Duo snorted softly. “Yeah, well, you could say that! Princess Relena is a Suggestor, and of no small ability, who has something less than a desirable level of control. The girl does not know her own strength!” Aqua eyes widened slowly as the implications dawned on him and Quatre’s mouth formed a perfect O as he stared at Duo. “Oh. Oh, dear. That is not good.” “No, not good and certainly not pleasant in the aftermath! Otto interfered, as it happens, and I didn’t even feel a thing until he stepped in… and then all I felt was sick. She didn’t even know she was doing it, Quatre. Now I have the bitch of all headaches and all I want to do is sleep.” “Well, I am not surprised. Come on, I’ll do what I can to settle things down for you and put you in a state receptive to sleep. I doubt you will be attending classes, at least the morning session tomorrow, and you should be checked over by a medic too, just to be sure. Otto will report this, he can’t avoid it, and you can expect a full barrage of tests to make sure you took no harm.” Duo shrugged. “I feel better since I took those pills and had the shower. Ah, can I have my brush?” “No.” Quatre spun and returned to the sitting room. “You can get your butt in here and I’ll work on your hair as I work on you. Brushing your hair will allow me easier access; act as a bridge to settle you. I expect you will get a visit from a technician and monitor from Tsuberov when Otto can get one through the Prime’s guards.” “You know I don’t like people touching my hair.” “Yes and I am not ‘people’. I am your roommate and I am a high level empath who can use that contact and the repetition of the brushing action to merge with you and lower your stress levels. Do not give me any trouble Duo Maxwell! Get in here now.” Duo paused in the doorway. “Erm… Bossy, aren’t you?” “When I need to be.” Duo ambled out into the sitting room and wished the pants had pockets so he could stick his hands in. “Otto’s outside still is he?” “Yes, I checked a few minutes ago. He’s talking to the Prime’s bodyguards. They seem to have a lot to talk about and Otto is not looking exactly angry any more.” “I bet they have a lot to talk about. Otto does not like his turf being tromped on by size 12’s other than his own.” Quatre grinned. “Come on, sit down there and I’ll start to work on your hair. All I need for you to do is centre in for me as you do in a work session and don’t try to block me out. I’ll start with the hair and when I judge it to be the right time I’ll move on to a massage until I decide you have reached an acceptable level.” “Sure.” Duo settled on the floor amidst a pile of very expensive cushions Quatre had piled up into a rather haphazard nest. “Are you sure you can do this and still monitor them?” “Yes, Duo. I’m quite sure. Now, centre in for me, please.” 00000000000000000--------000000000 They lingered in his awareness, Gabriella and the one she shielded from him, the one she insisted needed to share what he discovered. He was unhappy with their presence, or rather, with the unknown’s presence, considering him a potential threat not only to Marquise but also to himself. He did not like the idea of anyone invading the inner sanctum of working psi’s and he was almost certain that Gabriella, being Gabriella, would not come through with her promise to explain the necessity of this stranger’s presence; at least not in the short term. It would come as no surprise to him when she found a convenient excuse to put off the explanation. Would he allow that though? He trusted her, but there were limits and it was Gabriella herself who had taught him the boundaries of acceptable risk. Her presence in the link was not really enough of an excuse to take the risk out of the contact. He was more than unhappy with what she assured him was the necessity of the moment. Her touch extended, light, fleeting and she kept the stranger isolated behind shields as she eased out of the link. No parting comments, no assurances she would tell him what he needed to know, why it was ‘necessary’ he permit the contact. He trusted her but... In a momentary fit of pique he flashed at her his discontent and as the last of the contact faded he knew she was aware of the issue of trust now strained between them. She would not like that. She was gone then, out of his conscious awareness though the bond linking them one to the other remained. She had been his mentor, his friend, in many ways a loving grandmother. The bond was there and it would remain linking them until death separated them. But that bond was not the trust he had in her and the trust could be damaged where the bond remained intact. He could only hope his discontent, so plainly passed to her through the link, would ensure she offered at least some kind of explanation to him. ~/Treize?/~ He would give more thought to her and her ‘friend’ when he had the time and opportunity to dance around unanswered questions. It was dissatisfying though. So many things were being pushed aside for later attention, personal, private and case related, but he would not short the young man who gave the impression he was watching with worried eyes. His discontent, his discomfort, or his distraction had been noticed. Perhaps all three? ~/It’s alright, Zechs. Gabriella just took her leave. I will compare notes with her at a later time and, with your permission, we can discuss how best to approach the matter of reading this cluster of memories so that it is less distressing for you. I suppose we should follow Gabriella’s example and call it quits for the night./~ ~/I suppose so. Quatre’s probably worried. He does the whole worry thing really well. I... Thank you. For taking the time to help me with these… memories./~ Again that flash of insecurity, the need not to be a bother. In light of the revelations concerning his past Treize was beginning to understand that insecurity. The child Zechs, well, Milliardo as he was then, had shown it quite clearly; the need to please, to not be a bother, to stay in the background unnoticed and unremarked upon. What might this young man have been like had he not had a childhood which revealed itself to be that of one being actively hunted? He had not fit in with the foster families and, Treize suspected, Zechs had had problems at the orphanage and his term there had been less than a success. Really, hard as it had been for him, Treize was certain that Tsuberov was the best thing that could have happened to him. ~/It is no bother and with your consent I intend to continue to work with you to sort out the memory cluster. With time and a little effort we can place the memories in the correct context and understand your past a little more. You should not fall into the trap of first impressions. What we think we see and hear may not, in the full light of the picture, be the reality. There are undoubtedly subtle nuances we have missed and other memories that will clarify what we have witnessed. And Zechs, please, stop worrying about what your instructors are going to say about this incident. I assure you the Prime’s will handle the fallout. You are not alone against the system. We Primes look out for our own, and you, Zechs, are one of us./~ He put effort into projecting just the right amount of warmth and assurance, laving the younger man with the certainty that he was not alone and isolated before checking the seal on the memory cluster. The rag tag memories were isolated within a cocoon of protections, and when he felt the younger man relax with his assurance he offered up a final parting touch and separated himself from the consciousness of the budding Prime. Marquise was shifting his awareness as he separated himself, seeking out the solidity of their physical forms and the discomfort that would go with them. Treize was more than pleased with the younger man’s work and he was well aware Gabriella had also been impressed by his work and his willingness to be supervised. And those diamond shields! She was singularly hard to impress but this young man had succeeded where others had failed, but there was something else. There was something different, something hidden in her regard for Marquise that he found curious. There was something in how she looked at that young man and how she feathered her attention about him that was different. He would have to wait until he could speak to her directly but he would get answers. She would not make getting those answers easy and just how extensive those answers might be… well, nothing came easily when Gabriella was involved. However, even the hardest rock wore away to the persistent nature of the wind and rain and he could be patient, relentless with it, and persistent. He could be all of those things and more, if he needed to be. And she did not want to destroy his trust in her. “...keep your head down and your eyes closed, Duo. It’s okay, just let the peace fill you. You do not need to be concerned about anything that happens around you for the next few minutes. It has nothing to do with you, no cause for you to be worried. Zechs is stirring and I need to leave you for a few minutes to check him. That’s right, just relax and let yourself drift. I will still have a monitoring link to you so you can let yourself rest.” Quatre Winner. Soft voice, tone pervasive and laced with relaxants backed by a considerable empathic talent. Sound was always the first of his senses to restore itself in his mental awareness. It was shattering, devastating to come from the freedom of physical restrictions and the constraints of gravity that was the psychic plane, to find oneself once more bound to the solidity and restriction of flesh. How many young psi’s had experienced astral freedom or the plunge deep into themselves that was purely of the mind with wild joy and failed to cope with the return to their fleshy sheathe? Death. Insanity. The loss of motor functions. The moment when the mind rejoined with the body was a critical juncture in any psi activity. And was monitored carefully. For him it was always a gradual experience, no rude, abrupt plunge from weightlessness to the crushing solidity of flesh. He chose to come to himself by feeling his senses return in measured stages. Sound always returned quickly and he took the advent of it to feel for, and ground himself, to his physical sheath. Muted sound at first though it always seemed to be a cacophony that must send him insane, but it steadied quickly to tolerable levels and left him looking for more sensation. Fleeting contact... some ‘thing’ flowing over his senses. A moment only to recognise the touch as a controlled sweep of psi awareness; the skilled touch of a high talent and well trained empath. A monitoring touch, quickly and efficiently flicking over his pulse and respiration. Identity came with the touch, a quiet whisper of identity offered and soothing to forestall distress before it could become dangerous to himself or the Winner. Quatre Winner. He recognised the psi performing as a professional monitor for a session would. He could only approve the boy’s professionalism. Tsuberov trained its students well and, though Quatre was nowhere near completing his training, he was still adept at this particular task. “Prime? You can hear me?” ` Speech was, as yet, beyond him, but it would return soon. He offered what he could, a flicker of consciousness, assurance, as he allowed his physical weight to take him and ground him. He could hear the rushing of blood through his veins, feel the pounding of his heart, feel the bellows action and reaction of his lungs filling and emptying with air. Next came the uncomfortable sensation that informed him his physical self would appreciate a visit to the bathroom and the definite reaction of his stomach to a substantial work session. He was hungry. Something would have to be done about that just as soon as he sorted out what part of his physiology worked with whichever part of his brain cared to claim ownership. “Zechs? Don’t try to get up yet. Can you hold your hands out for me?” Think breathing. Think controlling breathing. One long slow breath. A second. Deepen the breath on three… one… two. Heart beat... Steady thumping and the rush of his own blood now was not so noticeable...yes, all was progressing as it should on his prescribed recovery routine. He could hear and he could feel his body and he could… yes, he could see. He recognised the room. Five star hotel sitting room... Stunning blonde with the crystal blue eyes holding his hands out before him, the faintest of trembles just visible in the long fingers. Short haired blonde in attendance, kneeling by the couch... Yes, he knew where he was. “I want you to take a little longer before you move, Zechs. Let me check with the Prime before we check your motor functions. Prime Khushrenada… ah, good. Can you see me clearly?” The smaller blonde was facing him now, aqua blue eyes intense with concentration as he made quick notations on a piece of paper set on the coffee table. A quick glance and he noted the Winner was listing the prescribed checks and responses for later study. The boy was professional in his demeanour and Treize was pleased by that. It would help dealing with Tsuberov’s management as they settled this situation. “Quite clearly, Mr. Winner.” Ah, his voice worked. Good. He could do with a drink, but that could wait for the moment. He extended his hands without being asked, gratified to see the fingers were steady, no trace of a tremble. “How long did the session take?” “Approximately four hours, sir. It’s about one thirty I think.” Treize inclined his head slightly. “Could you call my bodyguard in, please? I need to have a word with them.” There had been an anomaly... something different about the room...? Ah. There was a lean shape stretched over the floor, long streams of rich chestnut hair spread out in a sea around him. Treize blinked, more than a little surprised at the display. The hair almost totally covered the boy to his upper thighs, and Treize only caught the odd glimpse of his naked torso. He was clad only in sweat pants, his feet bare and his body stretched comfortably over the nest of cushions, his face turned away. “Mr. Maxwell?” “I’ve been helping Duo overcome a headache.” Quatre explained as he straightened, moving toward the door leading to the hallway. “There was an incident and he was a bit… stressed.” Treize scowled, head lifting a little from watching the sleeping youth to sweep to Quatre as his hand reached for the latch. “My guards do not usually make a habit of stressing out psi’s other than myself. What…?” “Oh, it had nothing to do with your guards, sir. It was nothing to do with your people at all. They were quick to get Duo into the suite and away from everyone else.” Quatre opened the door and poked his head out into the hallway. “Excuse me. The Prime would like a word with you, please.” Quatre backed away from the door and moved to stand behind Zechs, extending a finger tip touch to his shoulder after a low murmur to garner the older blonde’s consent to physical touch. Treize knew what Quatre was doing, a full reading of his friends awareness of his physical body, checking for any stress that might linger, and he wondered if the Winner would dare to request the same thing of him. “Your Grace?” He snapped his attention back to the tall man standing beside him. “Michael, call room service and order us a decent meal, please. Enough for everyone. It would be best if you send a message to the office advising I will not be in until afternoon. We should be ready to leave here in an hour or so and I will want a word with who ever is in charge of the Tsuberov students this evening.” “Sir. The Security Chief for Tsuberov would like a few words with you.” Treize grinned wickedly, knowing how understated Michael could be, and Otto had made quite an impression on Treize over their past meetings. The clash between his bodyguard and the Security Chief for Tsuberov might have been rather spectacular, he suspected. Pity he had missed it. “I am sure he would. You can send him in, but do request he keep his voice down and that he contains his natural inclination to snarl. I think young Mr. Maxwell and Zechs would appreciate the restraint. I know I would.” Quatre was standing behind him as his guard slipped from the room and he could easily enough read the unease in the young man. He waited a moment, wondering if the boy would have the gumption to speak up. “Prime Khushrenada, if I might have the privilege of touching you?” Brave boy and well aware of the duties of a psi monitor. Treize was pleased and he knew Gabriella would be too, that the Winner had braved the Prime in the interests of a monitors duties. This one might be the Winner heir, but he would be a Prime empath if not T/E Prime. His father might have plans for him, but Gabriella had her own plans involving the up and coming generation of talent. “Indeed you may, Quatre.” “Finger tips first, please.” He needed to demonstrate he could feel, that his sense of touch would allow him to function and assist in picking up items, then progress on to motor functions until his monitor of record was satisfied he had mastery over his physical form. He would need to deal with Otto whilst Quatre ran the gamut of prescribed tests. 000000000000000000000----------0000000000 “If you dare to think too old you are getting for shenanigans of this sort, Gabriella will be thanking you to say it not. Gabriella is more than aged above you to say it first.” She could almost hear the creaks and cracks that were not sourced within her own body and belonged to the man she had, if reluctantly, permitted to share in the merge. The pair of empaths chosen to monitor them during the session moved competently about them, well trained and confident in their abilities. She had given consideration to undergoing the merge without the benefits of a monitor, in the interests of security, but in the end she had discarded the idea. Though she would be loathe to admit it to anyone, she was not as young as she used to be and having a competent monitor was a sensible precaution. Not that she would be inclined to admit her failing body to certain people any more than she was likely to admit she had entertained the idea of foregoing the monitor. Had it been any of the other Primes and she learned they considered working without appropriate attendants, she would have bent their ears and bruised their backsides for their idiocy. “I think it rather selfish of you to claim advancing age as your sole province and not share it with others.” She inclined her head to a quiet question from her monitor questioning her sense of touch. “Yes. Fingers feeling is tingle free. If making you so old is this work, then pass it on you should be to younger bodies. ” She could see her monitor smirk, her back to the man stretched on the other couch and guessed few would dare to speak to him in such a tone. Ah, but She was Gabriella and Gabriella dared where others whimpered and snivelled. Before she was done in Sanc the palace would rock to the repercussions of her presence. They would be very glad to see the back of her for another twenty years. “I might be aging, Madam, and gracefully I might add, but senile I am not. While my facilities are intact I shall continue to perform my duties.” The Gypsy winked at her monitor, for all of her aches and pains she was in a relatively good mood. “Suggesting senile is Gabriella are we? Cheeky child you were, and nothing has changed I am understanding.” She knew him too well to think he would be in the least bit offended. She could call him a choice variety of names and insults and he would take it in stride. He was one of the one’s with gumption and she liked him, though she was not about to reveal that. Not after the past, not after the mistakes that had been made and the lives that had been shattered. Her mistakes. His mistakes. Others paid the price for their mistakes and no repeat could be permitted. “I have heard it mentioned on past occasions that I take after my maternal grandmother, Madam. She is said to possess a fathomless wellspring of cheek.” Oh yes, she did like him. A low murmur from her monitor and Gabriella inclined her head, permitting the woman to lay a finger tip to her forehead and monitored the sweep of the woman’s ability. She had a light ‘touch’ and Gabriella could not fault her performance. The touch withdrew and the woman added her final notations to the report on Gabriella’s condition after the work session, giving up the report to the old woman at the flick of a small wrinkled hand. “Thanking you I am for your work and eating will we be in a few minutes.” It never failed to amaze her how polite the attendants in Sanc were. Of course this was the house of an old family of royalty and one expected certain standards to be met in such places, but the Sancian household seemed to go that extra distance to distinguish themselves from the houses of nobility across Europe. “I shall have balanced servings provided, Ma’am.” She watched the woman withdraw and ran her eye over the notations, considering her statistics through the session and the aftermath. All in all, given her advanced years, she was, as usual, exceptional. Of course the readouts were not as good as they had been years ago, but what could one expect given her advancing age? A fortune was being spent on keeping her healthy, but eventually the pull of time would be too much and even Gabriella must fade. But not quite yet. “That young Prime of yours…. He was not amused.” Now that was indisputably an understatement and her Naughty Boy presented her with a dilemma. It had taken her a great deal of time and effort to build up the level of trust she enjoyed with her Khushrenada, he had not been the most trusting of souls when first they had met. The constraints of his family, their expectations and demands of him and their refusal to understand his spirit and his burgeoning psi talents, had conditioned him to be less than forthcoming. It had taken her time and considerable effort to gain his full trust and have him believe she could route the intentions of his family and grant him the freedom to choose his own way. It had not been easy and she enjoyed his trust and the relationship they shared and she was not pleased this placed strains on that understanding. “Understanding that you do? Good. Making it easier it will to resolve certain issues. Gabriella is not intending to upset her standing with him to suit the petty machinations of Sanc’s political correctedness. Gabriella amuses herself every day with thumbing her nose at political correctedness.” “Political ‘correctness’, Madam, and I have explained the...” Gabriella waved aside the comment, considering the man sitting on the couch as his monitor performed the last of the barrage of required tests for the depth and time of their work. He was a proud man, one who was reared to be fiercely loyal to the Royal Family. He would not appreciate her casting aspersions on the King, but she had an agenda and he would have to learn, again, that Gabriella would bow to no one. “Naughty Boy is of much importance to Gabriella and remember it you will. Wanting many questions answered when Gabriella returns he will, and decide we must how best to placate him we will before Gabriella is leaving Sanc. What best it is to tell him and what best it is not to tell him, these things must be determined. Trust hard won Gabriella will not forsake for petty politics.” Her dark eyes smouldered as she captured his. “And all politics is petty measured against keeping trust with Gabriella.” The lean form straightened slowly from the couch, long legs swinging over the side to pause and he worked carefully to stretch out a constricted muscle in his left shoulder at the direction of his monitor. The empath at his side held a hand a hairs breadth above his heart as he stretched to her direction and after a moment she nodded, stepping away and focusing her attention to complete her report. “You are functioning within normal parameters, sir. I would suggest you enjoy a spa before retiring for the night and after the depth of the session I strongly suggest, sir, that you do sleep.” “Thank you.” Gabriella held out her hand for the report on her companion and the monitor bowed to her, gliding out of the room at a dismissing flick of gnarled fingers. If there were any questions she was well aware she would be recalled and given the two involved in the session it was best to make oneself scarce quickly. The door closed behind her and Gabriella bent her head to quickly scan the chart and the old gypsy frowned at the statistics. She had not realised he had heart problems. It was, in light of the report before her, no surprise his monitor had taken such time and care with the scans and tests. Though they had been well monitored, and he took medication to control the problem, he should have informed her of the potential risk to his health. He might have suffered a heart attack during the session if his monitor had become distracted. “Reminding you again I am to be honest with Gabriella. Fine it would have looked if dropped dead you did on the couch.” He ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair, feeling the coarseness of the grey strands that once had been dark and lustrous. In his youth he had been quite a dashing figure and certainly he had pleased the eye of many a young lady. His fingers brushed along his moustache, revelling in the sheer pleasure of the sensation that was touch. He had never particularly enjoyed leaving his awareness of his body behind, but for this particular piece of work there had been no one else he would have trusted. In the aftermath of the session everything felt different. He needed to reassure himself that his physical attributes were as he had known them to be; how people could revel in the psi reality over physical reality he could not understand. Admittedly he could do without the ache his old bones and muscles generated from the physical inactivity and tension he always held himself under during high level psi work. The pain and tension was the result of his advancing age, nothing more, and at least the aches were familiar, if not a little more intense than normal. Consciously he knew the intensity of the pain was only an effect of being pain free for so long in the merge with Gabriella. He could only marvel at the old woman and how she dealt with her advanced years and intense psi work. He ached from physical inactivity, despite a competent monitors undivided attention, and he was a hatchling in comparison to Gabriella. That spa sounded like heaven, but first he must deal with the matters at hand. If he was lucky he would find his bed for a few hours, at the least a couch. As usual when she graced Sanc with her presence, she stirred up trouble. A tap on the door forestalled any comment and a servant responded to his permission, entering the room and bowing low, more to the old woman than to him. She was legend, that formidable old lady, and he was not looking forward to the verbal barrage she would subject him to at some point. If not now, this evening, then it would come in the daylight hours; it was not a case of if, but when. He only hoped he could put it off for a few hours and gain the benefit of a few hours rest. He wanted nothing more than to find some solitude and his bed, but Gabriella would not allow it… not that he could allow himself that luxury with work still to do. He might want it, but there was far too much to do if they were going to get answers to the questions raised by this nights work. “There is a meal prepared for you in the adjacent room, as specified by the monitors in attendance. It is requested that you eat everything.” A low bow at the flick of dismissal from his hand and they were, once more, left in peace. Gabriella creaked her way to her feet resting one hand on the arm of her couch for a moment before straightening up. He flinched at the dry crack of her joints and the artfully colourful verbal abuse that flavoured the air in response. She was so very much older than he and only her irascible nature stopped one from realising just how old she was. Taking her arm gently he escorted her into the next room, ignoring the creaking of his own frame, and to the table where the meals and drinks awaited their attention. Each separate meal catered exactly to the needs of the individual to replenish the expenditure of calories the session had required. “That Prime of yours. I am right in supposing he is the young Duke who defied convention and went against his family to make a career for himself in law enforcement?” “Treize Jean Alistair Bartholomew Kristian Khushrenada. Gabriella’s beloved Naughty Boy. If fifty years younger have that one warming my bed I would.” At his arched eyebrow Gabriella winked, considering her plate before reaching for the protein shake. He considered his own meal and decided she had it right. Drink first, one of three set before him and then he would work himself up to actually eating.
“Is most appropriate name assuring you I am, and being saddled with birth name like that, explains why such a naughty boy he was.” It was hard to contain his amused grin, but one was never quite sure if it was safe to smile around her or not. “I was under the impression his sexual preferences leaned toward the male gender.” “Pffft! This would stop Gabriella how? Fifty years ago Gabriella would have chased that one for more than his mind.” Pagan snorted softly, seeing the Prime was settled comfortably into her seat as any proper gentleman would before moving to his own seat. Fifty years ago, eh? He was in his sixties now and the old woman, he recalled, had been strikingly handsome then. Perhaps it was no idle boast on her part. Unless he wanted a list of her conquests it might, he mused, pay to change the subject. “I sometimes wonder what parents are thinking when they name their offspring, particularly those unfortunate enough to be born of the nobility. It is all well and good to honour past family members, but sometimes that can be taken to extremes.” “Amusing parents on stormy nights when child has a bore been, I am thinking.” A sip of the thick creamy liquid and her sharp eyes centred on him. “In the morning giving Gabriella the file on handsome young buck who escorted her this morning you will be. Liking that one I am.” Dark eyes flicked up to clash with her piercing gaze, the glass poised mid way to his mouth. “You can’t have him.” Too white teeth flashed in her wrinkled, swarthy face. “Oh, so this one is of interest to you, eh?” “No... Yes. You can not set your sights on stealing him. He is one of Stephan’s favourites and I can not see the King being willing to give up young Adrian. Not even to you.” The old woman snorted softly, setting her half full glass aside. “One of mine he is, like you. Making no mistake is Gabriella. One of mine he is and better will he be beneath Gabriella’s care than stuck here in cold stones and tied by restrictions older than Gabriella’s great granddame.” “Grandmother, he is…” The raising of a single wrinkled, swollen knuckled finger silenced him. The carefully manicure nail glinted in the light as it stabbed the air at him. “Yes, grandmother Gabriella is and best you remember it. Older and wiser is this head than any other in Sanc and know things does Gabriella even Pagan of Sanc knows not. Old things; things not yet come to pass but coming. Gabriella knows them all. Shadows move in many places; people whispering behind close doors they are, but nothing escapes Gabriella. Once it did, once Gabriella faltered and grandchildren suffered because Gabriella was distracted, but no more. Not after my lovely Crystabelle. No blood of Gabriella will escape Gabriella’s notice. Leaving them to others no longer will an option be.” “My daughter… What happened to her is still unknown and is likely never to be known. Yes, there may be something in the memories of this young man which will answer our questions, but equally there may be no useable answers there to be found! Grandmother, why do you single out Adrian? Why do you want him? There are others besides Adrian in Sanc who carry your bloodline. Why not one of them?” “And all of them will be known face to face with Gabriella come the new day. Face to face, not names and pictures on paper. This bright boy you name as Adrian, go he will with Gabriella and stay he will with Gabriella. Find his niche he will and protection with it. How many more, Pagan? How many like this Adrian are above level four and have not trained to their full potential? This Gabriella will know before noon of new day and that one, perhaps others, will not be tied to this place.” Oh, he had known her appearance would bring trouble, but he had not guessed she would appear and demand to take custody of those who carried her bloodlines! She was impossible. How did she think she could just appear and uproot people from their homes and carry them off to God knew where? “You can’t just waltz in here, grandmother, and rearrange Sanc to suit your fancy!” “Underestimate grandmother at your peril, stripling! Told you Gabriella did twenty years ago, when last she walked these streets, that never would I allow another to meet Her fate at the whims of porcine old arseholes who profess to know what is best.” “You became an old arsehole yourself!” Ah, there it was, his backbone. She had wondered if she would see it. He had taken her unannounced presence calmly, cooperated with her and insisted on knowing what she knew. Only now was he showing a spine in answering back to her and, thankfully, it was in defence of the young ones. It appeared he might have learned from the past. “Old arsehole with heart, thanking you kindly to get it right Gabriella will be. Sit. Eat. Shut up until plate half empty is. Talk we will later.” The glare was commendable, somehow managing to be polite and molten at the same time. She was quite impressed with the expression and determined to practise it herself. It could put a few people she knew on the back foot, but she would not allow him to know she was impressed. “Did you stop to think that Adrian might not want to go with you? This is his home. He has family here, a place, a future in the service.” “A convenience to be used by the Crown and a back up source of good genes, nothing more is any of the young ones. Engaged already is he? Breaking political attachments Gabriella will be and out of this place I will see him before key in final lock on chains is turned. Free of it to develop his full potential he will be, just like my Sexy Eyes will be.” He sucked in a hissed breath, staggered by the implications. “Grandmother! You can’t! You can’t touch that one any more than you can take Adrian. Stephan has plans for him.” “Stephan can stick his plans up Khyber Pass. Pass salt.”
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