Dreaming every night, these past two days, a nightmare so real, he awakened screaming, Ed despaired life would ever be the same. Images came unbidden to his mind, replaying this most recent nightmare.

"Jeez, Ed!" he said exasperated, "That's no way to forget a dream. Think of something else!" Getting up from bed, he paced his bedroom, pondering the last few days. "There's something I was supposed to do. Oh man, what was it?" Ed paused near the window, staring at the few stars struggling through the local air pollution. "Travis had spooked me so much I can't think straight." Continuing to gaze up into the night heavens, he thought of Sloan and Tom's relationship. Suddenly he remembered his exotic Mariana.

"Oh shit! Mark!" recalled Ed, pushing the heels of his hands against his temples. "I was supposed to see him two days ago. I've got to call Mariana in the morning. Tell her to meet me, so I can attend to his wounds. God, I hope his condition hasn't worsened."

Lying down again, Ed thought back to that first time he met Mariana...

Whitney University Laboratory

Location: Dr. Ed Tate's Office

September 14, 1999: Early Evening.

Ed smiled at Sloan's reaction. She had always accused him of attracting the pretty girls. Looking at his visitor, he realized this one was no different. She's beautiful. Stomach twisting in attraction to this short, slender beauty, Ed fastened his eyes on her sensuous lips and her luscious brown hair. He fantasized running his hands through her hair and kissing her hard. 'Wait a minute,' thought Ed, 'what am I doing!' Shaking himself from his fantasy, he gazed into her amused eyes. Narrowing his eyes, Ed studied her, very puzzled about her reaction. 'It's almost as if she can hear my thoughts.' Searching, he finally concluded, 'Nah!'

"Hey!" responded Ed, hands raised palm outwards, "It wasn't we who betrayed your faction the last time. You've got to trust us on that issue... trust me!"

Sighing, Ed couldn't forget that smile. Turning over to look at his clock, he thought, 'Two a.m. At least I slept an hour more tonight. May as well get up and go to the lab. Maybe I can be productive if I can't sleep anymore.' Thinking about Mark's condition, Ed said, "I'll call Mariana in the morning."

Wallowing in self-pity, Ed remembered the empty apartment he'd returned to last night. Because he was afraid to sleep, afraid of his dreams, he sat and watched television. But that didn't help. There was an X-Files re-run on TV where 'Mulder' was searching frantically for his partner 'Scully.' A deranged ex-FBI man who believed aliens had abducted him and performed terrible experiments on him had now kidnapped Mulder's partner. Just before the show ended, Ed had fallen asleep and dreamed dreams guaranteed to give a psychiatrist nightmares.

Pulling his legs up onto the chair, Ed rested his head against his knees and stared blankly at the wall. Reminiscing over the past year, Ed recalled the first time he had met Tom. That cold FBI persona he affected with everyone but Sloan. When she entered a room, Tom's whole being directly focused on her and everyone else ceased to exist. Ed was so suspicious of him and his growing friendship with Sloan. But over time, he had come to appreciate the hidden sense of humor in Tom, the loyalty and the determination to keep Sloan safe from his own kind. Over time, both he and Tom overcame their attitudes and their friendship blossomed. But they were running against a clock now. If they didn't find Tom soon, he could suffer irrevocable damage inflicted by Alexandra's determination to destroy his species. The atrocity in Maxwell's photographs depicting Lewis' captivity and tortures proved that.

"And if that wasn't enough, someone has grabbed Sloan," recounted Ed, puzzled. "What I can't understand is why kidnap her in the first place? Is her disappearance due to the link between her and Tom, as Travis had suggested? Is Alexandra experimenting on her now? Or did Lewis kidnap Sloan to find Tom?" Puzzling over these facts, Ed left his office and exited the building. Walking to the fountain, Ed sat and contemplated Travis's words. "What exactly did Travis mean by 'link'?"

Lying down to soak up the early morning sunrise, Ed fell asleep.

Opening his eyes slightly, Ed found Walter shaking his arm and trying to awaken him. "Whaa..." slurred Ed, sleepily.

"Ed," said Walter worriedly, "I know you've been having nightmares, but the edge of the fountain is no place to fall asleep. Especially now, with Alexandra nearly kidnapping Ray's kid." Shaking Ed's arm some more, Walter tried to awaken his sleep- deprived friend.

"OK, OK," muttered Ed irritably. "I'm awake." Ed groggily swung his feet to the ground and canted his head to stare up at Walter, left eye closed against the sun and his right hand shading the other eye. "Walter, what are you doing here so early?"

"Early?" he responded surprised. "It's 8:30am." Chuckling wryly, he pulled Ed to his feet. "Come on. Let's get some coffee in the lab. Maybe you can finally tell me what's bothering you." Walter steered Ed into the Whitney Building housing the labs John Maxwell had returned to them.

Walking in silence down the corridor, Walter waited patiently for Ed to open up and worriedly inquired, "Did you stay here overnight again?" Keying in his identity code, Walter turned his head to gauge Ed's reaction to his question.

"Um, no. I went home, but couldn't sleep." Ed opened the main entrance door of the lab and gestured Walter to enter first. "I came back here to work around 3a.m."

Ed walked to the coffee maker and prepared a fresh pot of coffee while Walter sat on a lab stool. Completing his task, Ed grabbed a chair and straddled it backward to discuss what was on his mind. Not meeting Walter's eyes, he hesitatingly explained, "I thought I might as well get some work done. Travis's little trick with the integrity of the Human DNA differential program bothered me. So, I devised a program to prevent it from ever happening again, a kind of secret failsafe warning. I plan on embedding it into the program. Any type of tampering will trigger the CPU to shut down all facilities, unless the CPU recognizes mine or Sloan's or your fingerprint code, prior to re-programming." Glancing up, Ed was surprised to see Walter smiling with approval.

"That's fantastic Ed!" exclaimed Walter quietly. "I've been meaning to discuss security with you, but you seemed very pre-occupied these past few days. I needed you to be 100% here to review security matters and you've gone and surprised me and implemented them already."

Ed smiled ironically. "Yeah, well, I've also decided to back up all my files and programs as well as the DNA differential data base again. They'll be stored in a fire safe at an undisclosed location." Shrugging, Ed theorized, "Better safe and slightly paranoid, than sorry."

Walter smiled appreciatively of this sentiment and stood to leave the room. Pausing next to Ed, he placed his hand on Ed's shoulder and confided, "I still have nightmares of that night Ann died. But life goes on. So must you."

Staring deep into Walter's haunted eyes, Ed slowly acknowledged their shared pain.

Smiling slightly, Walter squeezed Ed's shoulder and departed the lab for his office.

Ed watched Walter leave when he suddenly felt someone watching him. Turning to the source, his stomach flip-flopped in recognition. 'Mariana,' he breathed silently. Ed felt a similar reaction from Mariana, as she stood and gazed at him from the doorway.

"Ed," whispered Mariana, pale and strangely withdrawn. Never breaking eye contact, she gracefully approached him and searched his face while she caressed his thick brown hair back off the wound on his forehead.

Ed quickly sucked in his breath, reacting to her touch, feeling a jumble of confused emotions not quite his own.

Mariana pulled back suddenly and smiled sadly. "I found out Travis kidnapped you to get to Dr. Attwood. Are you OK?"

"Uh, yeah. I'm fine," lied Ed.

Mariana shook her head and turned to sit on the lab stool Walter had vacated. She quietly contemplated his demeanor and stressed, "Ed, you are not fine. You need to forget what happened with Travis." Holding her hand up to forestall his denial, she continued, "If you want, I can help. When you are ready, just ask."

Shifting his eyes to the floor, Ed murmured, "Thanks. I may take you up on that sometime." When the silence became unbearable, Ed glanced at Mariana and continued, "I am glad you came. I was going to call you and apologize. Ask you to take me to Mark, so I can attend to his injuries... that is if you still want my help."

"Yes, of course we do," responded Mariana. "Are you ready to leave now?"

"Just give me a few minutes to pack some supplies and we can go."

Mariana watched Ed leave the room, head cocked slightly, contemplating her reaction to him. 'Strange,' she thought.

Groggily, he responded, "Send him in." Mark struggled to sit upright as Kyle entered the darkened motel room. Glancing at his guest, Mark forestalled any help by gesturing Kyle into the chair next to his bed. "Sit. Talk to me," he ordered brusquely. The clothes covering him stuck to the seeping wound just below his shoulder and the movement caused the wound to bleed more freely. Pulling the cloth aside, Mark centered his attention on Kyle, his undercover operative in Lewis' inner circle.

Obeying orders, Kyle sat and coldly explained, "Lewis brought Sloan to the house 4 days ago. I tried to get word to you before, but I was unable to leave. Lewis had ordered we detain her for five days, and terrorize her, while she's duct taped to the bed." Pausing he added, extremely disgusted, "Chris has enjoyed this part of the assignment tremendously."

Mark interrupted and alarmingly asked, "He hasn't harmed her, has he?"

"No," he answered distastefully, "but he's one sadistic bastard."

"Good," responded Mark, relieved. "While I am not sure how much I trust Attwood's group yet, they're our best hope for our continued survival." Sighing painfully, he shifted on the bed and continued, "Peaceful co-existence can work. But as long as people like Lewis and Alexandra exist, we'll always have difficulty." Pondering Kyle's report while trying to make himself more comfortable, Mark asked, "Does she suspect who you're aligned with? Where your loyalties lie?"

"No," responded Kyle. "Thank God, because I don't believe she could keep that secret from Lewis or Chris." Laughing he explained, "She is so open to suggestions and easy to terrify. Her one redeeming factor is her stubbornness to surrender to superior strength. She's a fighter."

Laughing, Mark agreed with his assessment of Sloan. "It's no wonder Tom fell for her," he theorized. "He was always attracted to the emotional."

Kyle nodded and slightly smiled his agreement. Quietly observing Mark, he noticed the thin sheen of sweat on his forehead and the red flush on his face. It occurred to Kyle that Mark was hiding a great deal of pain. His healing hasn't been as quick as it should've been, especially for one of their species. They usually healed quickly and the Chosen even faster. But something was impeding that healing process.

Kyle spent a few seconds contemplating this fact. Realizing Mark needed his rest, he resettled the stoic expression on his features and quietly informed, "For some odd reason, Lewis wants her out of the way for the next few days. I've asked Chris if he knows why, but he's in the dark as much as I am regarding this whole incident. It's as if he's determined to destroy Sloan in order to get Tom back under his control."

"You could be right," said Mark. "But somehow, I think there's more to it than that." Fixing his gaze on the far wall, his thoughts turning inward, Mark whispered, "I wonder if it has something to do with Kewleys Comet. Lewis is Chosen after all... hmmm." Realizing he may have revealed too much, Mark ordered Kyle to return to his post. "Follow Lewis' orders and return when you have more information."

"Yes sir!" he answered, quickly leaving the dim and dingy room after one last worried glance in Mark's direction.

Mark thought, 'If Lewis is trying something again, then the logical time would be the return of Kewleys Comet.' Protecting his shoulder from jarring, Mark shifted and laid down without opening his wound. On his back, he quietly contemplated this last meeting with Lewis as he fell asleep. In a few moments, he started to toss and turn feverishly, muttering "No! I will not do that. I won't steal it for you, Lewis."

"No!" interrupted a blood curdling scream.

Shocked, Mariana and Ed flashed a look between them before reacting. Mariana elbowed the guard aside and pushed ahead of Ed into Mark's darkened room. She quickly gathered the feverish figure into her arms. Cooing softly, she rocked her friend, trying to soothe him. "Shhh, it's just a dream. I'm here. I'm here. Shhh."

Ed followed and threw his black medical bag on the bed. Swiping his unruly hair out of his eyes, Ed opened the bag and grabbed his stethoscope. Placing the stethoscope into his ears, he leaned over and listened to Mark's erratic heartbeat. "Not good!" he explained. Rummaging through his bag, he pulled the out his blood- pressure gauge and grasped Mark's arm. With a surge of strength, Mark twisted free of Mariana's arms and swung at him. He ducked, but not fast enough. Mark's fist connected with his right eye. "Damn!" muttered Ed, grimacing with pain. "Hold him down Mariana!"

"I'm trying, but his strength has increased."

Ed nodded his understanding and reached for one of Mark's arms. Firmly tucking it between his arm and body, he cuffed it with the blood-pressure sleeve. "Shit! It's way too high. We're going to lose him!" Grabbing his thermometer, Ed quickly inserted it into Mark's ear. Ed heard the small ding of his thermometer and read the temperature. "42^oC (107^oF). Brain Fever." Locking his eyes with Mariana's Ed explained, "If we don't get his temperature down, he'll suffer convulsions and die. Guard!" Ed screamed. "Get me as much ice as you can find. Fill the tub with it," he ordered to the man who just entered the room.

Running to the bathroom, Ed took the washcloth from the shelf and soaked it in cold water and ran back to the room, just as Mark underwent convulsions. Trying to prevent further damage, he pressed the ice-cold cloth against Mark's forehead. Both Mariana and Ed ignored the frantic rush to fill the ice tub.

Mariana yelled after a few minutes, "Is it ready?" struggling to hold Mark still.

"It's not full yet, but you can place him in there now," answered the guard.

Mariana pulled Mark close and surged to her feet while Ed lent a hand carrying the unconscious man. They rushed to the bathroom and settled Mark into the ice-filled tub. Three more men entered with large tubs, shoved Mariana, and Ed aside, and gently covered Mark with ice.

"That's enough," said Ed. Motioning them to leave, Ed crouched next to Mariana, who resumed her previous position and sat holding Mark's hand, gently, soothingly caressing it. Ed closely monitored Mark's heartbeat. "The cold's helping. His heart's slowing down and the convulsions are decreasing." Sighing in relief, he ran for his thermometer and resettled himself to wait for Mark's temperature to stabilize.

Ed and Mariana waited anxiously for an hour, replenishing the ice every so often, checking his temperature and heart rate. Finally, Ed pronounced Mark was out of danger.

"Help me pull him out of the tub, Mariana," asked Ed. "We need to get these wet clothes off of him before he catches pneumonia."

Mariana used her incredible strength and helped pull Mark from the tub. Ed stripped the hurt faction leader of his sopping wet clothes and helped wrap him in the warm towel he had grabbed from the wall. Rubbing vigorously, he wiped Mark dry. Gesturing to the bed, Ed suggested "Cover him well with extra blankets. I'll have to check the wound for infections."

When Mariana left, Ed removed his shirt and hung it to dry. Toweling himself, he entered the room and walked to his bag he had haphazardly discarded on the bed. Mariana had moved it to the base of the bed, when she settled Mark under the covers. Pulling the bag closer to the other side of the bed, Ed sat next to his patient and pulled the blankets down to reveal Mark's wound. Looking up, Ed's question died in his throat. He caught Mariana staring at his muscular chest, fascinated by the few hairs growing there. He thought her expression showed surprised, amazement that he had such a gorgeous physique. Smiling into her eyes, Ed turned to study the wound. It was very red, hot, and putrid. Streaks of red radiated from the wound. Rolling the unconscious man over, Ed found the exit wound just above his shoulder blade. The wound was much larger on this side, suggesting a hollow-point bullet injury. Pus seeped from the wound.

"It's a good thing you came to get me," explained Ed. "Another few days and he would've died of gangrene poisoning. As it is, it will be close."

"Hiiffff!" breathed Mariana, alarmed. "Can you help him?"

"Yes, I think so." Rummaging in his bag, Ed pulled out a needle and a vial of potent antibiotics. Pushing the needle into the bottle, he extracted 20cc's and administered the drug.

"Ed?" Mariana waited for him to turn his head. As she caught his eyes, she said, "Thank you."

Covering her hand and squeezing slightly, Ed smiled. After a few moments, he returned his attention to his patient. Extracting his supplies, Ed cleaned the wound on Mark's chest of all infection and sutured it closed. Rolling him over, Ed asked, "Mariana, hold him, please."

Ed studied the wound on this side, preparing to clean it, when he spotted something partially covered by blood. Swiping the cloth against it, he found a tattoo. 'That's strange,' he thought. 'It's a tattoo similar to Tom's, but not. The pattern's different.' Wondering what it meant, he memorized the pattern and attended to the wound.

Finishing his administrations and closing the wound, Ed straightened. He pulled the blankets over Mark's shivering body and explained, "Now, it's a waiting game." Walking into the bathroom, he washed his hands and toweled himself dry. Reaching for his shirt, he found it dry and grabbed it. Ed walked into the other room, pulling the shirt over his head. When he opened his eyes, Ed was startled to find Mariana standing within inches from his face. Standing on tiptoe, she whispered "Thank you," into his ear.

"You're welcome," responded Ed flustered.

Mariana smiled at his reaction and said, "Come, I'll take you back to the lab. You need to get some steak on that eye. It's truly black now." Smirking, she walked from the room.

Ed felt his tender eye and winced. Calling after her, he said, "OK, but call me if anything happens or changes."

Dr. Steven Hill burst out of his chair and paced his large cluttered office, which he gained last year upon his tenure. Many of Steve's students considered the tall, blonde, 35 year-old man with the soft goatee and startling green eyes very handsome. But that worldview didn't matter to the scientist. All that mattered was discovering Kewleys' secrets.

"Does its orbit pose a threat to mankind's continued existence?" wondered Steve. "We have a possible extinction level event comet, acting erratically, mysteriously increasing and decreasing magnitudes of brightness." Stopping near the window, overlooking Lake Ontario, Steve whispered, "And no one knows about it but the Canadian/US government. What am I going to do if I can't find a solution?" Sighing, Steve remembered the Press Conference when he first announced the arrival of the comet. He was so ecstatic; his career was finally gelling. That news release cinched it...

"The news breaking event this hour," reported Colin Manns, the TV news anchor for KTLA in Los Angeles. "Scientist, Dr. Steven Hill of the University of Toronto has announced a comet approaching Earth will exceed expectations of the scientific community. During a routine scan of the heavens, he discovered a bright star, which he assumed had never been visible in our solar system. In a Press Release earlier today in Toronto, Dr. Hill reported he initially observed the phenomena last January 18, 1998. First appearances suggested it was a new star gone nova. After 4 days of observation, the so-called "star's" brightness decreased in magnitude. Subsequent photographic plates and spectroscopic analysis indicated the object was moving towards our solar system. Searching his database of celestial objects, Dr. Hill determined it was Kewleys Comet, P50/Kewleys and he reported his discovery to the scientific community."

"Over a period of a couple of months, Dr. Hill had documented numerous inexplicable increases in the brightness of the comet, all lasting 3 or 4 days. This intrigued both him and the scientific community. He enlisted the help of various worldwide telescope observatories and NASA's Hubble Space Telescope to catalogue the event. This morning, Dr. Hill reported the cause of this magnitude brightness variation is a mystery, but one his team intends to investigate in the next 5 years. He mentioned studying Kewleys was a great opportunity to examine this phenomenon intensely, since brightness variations in comets have never been discovered at such an early stage. Two years ago, 29P/Schwassmann-Wachmann 1, comet exhibited quite drastic brightness variations, cause unknown. They are hoping that Kewleys reveals some more details to solve this mystery."

"This reporter asked when it would be possible to witness the comet from Earth, unaided and how often Kewleys would flare up.

Dr. Hill explained for research purposes, he had projected brightness variations for P50/Kewleys Comet and discovered an amazing coincidence. When the star becomes visible to the naked eye this October 18, 1999, Kewleys Comet will flare from a dim 15 Magnitude brightness to a very bright magnitude 7. Since Kewleys Comet is 30-40 km wide, the brightness will be vastly greater than a full moon or the morning star, Venus. The flare will last from Oct 18 to Oct 21, 1999 and it will be visible either day or night."

"So there you have it, people, the largest event this side of the 20^th century, the coming of Kewleys Comet."

Sighing, Steve continued, "Well, at least the International Astrophysics Conference next week will be interesting. I certainly won't know what to say to them during my panel discussion." Packing his backpack, Steve thought ironically, 'Who said fame was fun?'

Sloan lifted her chin stubbornly in the air and answered defiantly, "Want to bet on that?"

"Ah my dear Sloan, still defiant after all these days. Haven't you learned yet?" he chided. "I thought our sessions together were more fruitful." Chris had enjoyed tormenting the human female. It seemed like his one true purpose in life. Early on, he realized there was something about Sloan that brought out the best in his beastly behavior. Now he understood Lewis' obsession with her.

But Chris wondered why Lewis didn't rid himself of the insufferable human now? Why keep her around? Shaking his head in confusion, he sat on the edge of the bed and opened the night table, just as Kyle entered the room. Not wanting to let this last opportunity go by without one last jibe, Chris turned slightly and asked, "Any other last minute instructions from Lewis for discarding our guest?"

The quick inhalation of breath behind him elicited the exact response he was looking for. Smiling maliciously, he said, "Yes, my dear Dr. Sloan Parker. We have our orders to dispose of you."

"Chris!" admonished Kyle, trying to minimize the damage inflicted on Sloan as per Mark's orders. "Stop it."

"Oh Kyle, you're taking all the fun out of this assignment." Puzzled he stared into his partner's eyes to determine the truth of his next question. "You're not turning like Daniels has are you?"

"Of course not!" responded Kyle. "Never the less, we'll follow Lewis' orders by the book."

"All right, all right," Chris confirmed maliciously. Turning back to the task at hand, he pulled a brown opaque bottle and a cloth from the nightstand. Opening it, he soaked the cloth with its liquid contents. Chris extended his arm, trying to press the cloth close to his prisoner's nose. Sloan steadily retreated from the noxious smell, repeatedly swinging her arms to knock Chris's hand away from her face. "Come my dear, it will be less painful this way."

"For whom?" she said defiantly. Lying back, she defended herself by swinging her feet in Chris's direction. Her foot connected a glancing blow against Chris's head. While Sloan's kick wasn't hard enough to harm him, it was hard enough to anger him.

Chris swung out his arm and hit her hard against the head. Sloan's head snapped with the power of it. As he prepared to hit her again, Kyle grabbed his fist in mid-strike and said, "Enough!" Snatching the saturated cloth from Chris's hand, Kyle shoved his partner aside and advanced on Sloan's frightened stubborn body. Holding her down, he covered her mouth with the cloth, struggling to keep her head and body still. After a few seconds, Sloan slumped, unconscious.

Kyle gathered the bedding and covered Sloan completely. Pulling her close, he easily lifted her and carried her to the car. Chris followed, quite sullen over losing his opportunity. Stopping before the main foyer, Kyle inquired, "Do you have the needle and drug to inject her with later?"

"Yes, I stashed it in her car earlier," he answered coldly.

"Good. She needs to sleep till tomorrow." Kyle motioned Chris to open the main door and walked out to Sloan's car. After Chris opened the rear passenger door, he deposited Sloan lengthwise onto the back seat of her car so no one could see her and become suspicious of the human-shaped lump of blankets. Kyle entered the driver's side and waited for his partner to deposit himself in the passenger side.

Kyle turned north onto the highway, driving in the direction of Pasadena, California.

Chris immediately set the package he carried under his arm onto the night table and searched the drawers while Kyle undressed Sloan.

After a few minutes, Kyle straightened and inquired, "Have you found it yet?" Looking down on Sloan's vulnerable and naked body, he covered her partially with the crumpled sheets from her unmade bed. When he didn't receive an answer, he turned towards Chris and started to repeat his question when something hit him in the face. Something soft and silky, and smelling of Sloan's scent. Breathing deeply, he pulled it off his face and glared at Chris.

"Yeah," Chris answered, pointing to Kyle's hands. "There it is," he laughed.

Kyle eyed the silky white slip-like gown in his hands. Fingering it softly, he imagined Sloan covered in this outfit, the night Tom Daniels was supposed to kill Dr. Sloan Parker. Silently he agreed with Tom's inability to harm this sensuous woman. Leaning over, Kyle removed the thin sheets from Sloan and pulled her naked body against his, secretly enjoying her soft suppleness. Slowly he pulled the nightgown over her slim form, lightly caressing the length of her body as he readied her for bed. Laying her down, Kyle gradually pulled the sheets over Sloan's body, letting his eyes travel slowly, following its path.

Kyle's preoccupation with Sloan's body didn't go unnoticed. Chris narrowed his eyes but said nothing. Instead he dug out his miniature camera and snapped a few quick snapshots of Kyle holding Sloan's naked body for future posterity. Kyle had turned and glared at his partner when he heard the camera click a number of times.

Shrugging, Chris replaced his miniature camera into his pocket and sat on the other side of the bed. He opened the package and withdrew a needle and the drug vial. Quietly he prepared the needle, inserting it into the bottle labeled "memory-alt serum". Removing 35cc's he extracted the needle and squirted 5cc's from it to clear any air bubbles. Reaching across the bed, Chris pushed Sloan's head aside to expose the veins in her slender neck. Leaning over, he jabbed the needle there and injected the drug into one of the veins in her neck.

Gathering all the evidence of their visit to Sloan's apartment, the two largely silent chameleons departed for their home base to wait for Lewis' return.

Rolling onto the university grounds, Sloan pumped hard the last few meters to reach Whitney Laboratories building. Panting slightly with exhaustion, she jumped off her bike and locked it on the rack outside her building.

Running into the building, Sloan recalled the last time she did this. The night she discovered Ann Coulter, her mentor, advisor and friend... horribly murdered. Sloan had felt so devastated and lost. Everyone had surrounded her, where she went to hide on the floor in her office.

Ray had interrogated her, asking questions she wasn't ready to answer. Ed had wanted to intervene, but Tom had entered the room and introduced himself. It was on that night Sloan had seriously felt connected to Tom Daniels, the FBI man. The rest was history of course.

Smiling to herself, she ran down the familiar hallway to their lab. 'Thank God, Walter and John Maxwell were able to discredit Alexandra,' thought Sloan. 'Now if only we can find Tom before 'she' does some irrevocable damage.'

Sloan swung the door open and walked into a meeting in progress with Walter, Ed and Ray. Because she arrived slightly late, Sloan grabbed the nearest chair and hurriedly settled herself. "Hi everyone! Sorry I'm late." Silence met her greeting. Looking around the room, Sloan noticed the stunned expressions on all the men's faces. "Umm," she wondered hesitantly, "is this a closed meeting, I'm not supposed to attend?"

Recovering from his shock, Ed lurched from his stool and pulled Sloan from her chair and bear hugged her, quietly muttering, "Sloan, oh Sloan, you're back... you're back. I've been so worried about you. Are you OK?"

Pulling herself back slightly to answer, Sloan found herself hauled into another pair of arms, bear-hugged by Ray and then Walter. Puzzled, she drew back and put her hands up to ward them away. "Whoa, gentlemen. Want to tell me why you're so happy to see me? After all, I spoke with each of you last night."

"Sloan!" answered Ray, shocked. "Sloan, you've been missing for over five days," explained Ray. "Where have you been? Why didn't you contact us? Were you kidnapped?"

Sloan fell back onto the lab table, stunned. Grasping the edge desperately, she surveyed the room and the men present, eyes wide with shock. "Wha... wha... what do you mean I've been missing for over five days?" Turning to Ed, she frantically asked, "Ed, remember? We spoke last night. The new species... our species... the current state of affairs. I went out to get that pizza and we... we..."

Eyes rolling into her head, Sloan slumped to the floor, unconscious. Ed rushed to check her vitals. Ray and Walter crowded them. Glancing up and catching Ray's eyes, Ed ordered, "Help me lift her. Walter, get the gurney... fast!"

Walter turned and ran to the other room. He returned a few seconds later, rolling the gurney ahead of him. Ray and Ed lifted Sloan from the floor and placed her onto the temporary bed. Ed rushed to his office and retrieved his medical supplies. Rummaging in bag, he pulled out some smelling salts, broke the seal, and waved it a few times under her nose.

Sloan reacted, aggressively forcing Ed's hand away and turning her head, coughing violently. Ed threw the smelling salts into a nearby waste and restrained her flailing arms. "Sloan, can you hear me? Stay still. You've just suffered a shock to your system." Trying to gain her attention, he asked, "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Sloan stopped struggling and looked up bewildered. "What happened?" Staring deeply into his eyes, she asked, "What day is it?"

"Oh Sloan." Ed stroked hair from her face. "It's Monday, September 20th. Don't you remember?"

"No," she answered panicking. "Why can't I remember, Ed?"

"Shhh," he said, trying to calm her. "I don't know Sloan, but I mean to find out."

"And I'll help," interjected Walter standing at the head of the gurney.

Ray moved in front of Sloan and held her hand. Patting it gently, he asked, "Did you wake up in your apartment this morning?"

"Yes," she replied puzzled.

"Did anything look out of place? Did your security appear jimmied?"

Sloan thought and answered slowly, "No. Everything appeared normal. I don't know about the locks though." Biting her lip, she asked, "Can you go to my apartment and see if there's any tampering?" Sloan rolled to her side slightly and rummaged in her pocket. Pulling out her keys, she handed them to Ray. "Please?"

"Of course, Sloan. I don't want this to happen again!" stressed Ray. Turning to Walter, he said, "I'll see you later."

Walter nodded absently, "Yes, of course."

Ed searched his bag and pulled out a medical tourniquet, a needle, five blood vials, cotton batten and a small bandage. Numbering each test tube with a marker he grabbed from the table, Ed prepared Sloan's arm, patting the veins to pull blood to the surface. Satisfied, he wrapped the tourniquet around her arm and yanked it tight. Reaching for the needle, he inserted it into one of Sloan's bulging veins. Attaching vial #1 to the needle, Ed untied the tourniquet. When each test tube was half full, he exchanged it for another. Finally, all five vials were full. Carefully, he extracted the needle and pressed the cotton against her arm. "Sloan, hold this for a few seconds."

Gingerly, Sloan sat up, and pressed the cotton into the crease of her arm where Ed had taken the blood samples. After a few seconds, he opened the bandage package and covered the cotton with it. "OK, Sloan. You can get up slowly." Ed pocketed the blood for analysis.

Swinging her feet to the floor, Walter rushed to Sloan's side and helped her descend from the gurney. "Come on, Sloan. I'm sending you home to rest. You've suffered a shock and you need to recover. I'll send an agent with you for protection."

Sloan weakly smiled her thanks and waited for the agent to take her home.