Author: Sarah aka qs9300

Darien walked quickly down the hall to the Official's office, slightly miffed that he had to report in at 8:00 today. He burst through the door and was met by annoyed glares from Charlie and Eberts.

"What?!"

"You're late," Eberts stated calmly.

"By two minutes!" Darien retorted, settling into the chair next to Bobby.

"Anyway, let's get right to business," the Official cut in. "This assignment is a very important one. A group of men have set off on a string of fast-paced convenience store robberies."

"Wait a second," Hobbes interjected. "Now we're being assigned to track down common thieves?!"

"There is nothing common about these thieves," said the Official, "which you would have seen if you had let me finish. The group is very successful, pulling off the robbery in under two minutes. No one gets hurt, and they drive off in any of a variety of older sedans, cars that seem to blend in with traffic immediately."

"These guys are good. No one has ever seen their faces," Eberts supplied.

"So what are we supposed to do?" Darien asked.

"You guys are gonna catch 'em," the Official smiled smugly.

"And we will do that how...?" Hobbes was hoping for an idea, because he had no clue how to catch "common thieves."

"They work in a pattern. They hit only large franchised convenience stores, and they have been moving steadily toward the ocean. The group strikes once a week - every Friday - which gives you four days to interview previous victims and decide where they are most likely to strike next."

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"Warren G. Harding once declared, 'I have no trouble with my enemies. I can take care of my enemies all right. But my damn friends. They're the ones that keep me walking the floor nights!' To me that seemed like a senseless statement, until the day an old friend came back into my life."

The door swished quietly behind Darien as he walked into Lab 101. The Keeper barely acknowledged him, assuming - and correctly - that he was just there for his weekly shot. Before he could say anything she motioned for him to display his monitor. Sure enough, only the last four segments remained green.

"I'm impressed, Darien. For once you're right on schedule. You're becoming more responsible about your quicksilver use."

Darien just mumbled something in response, eager to get on with the new job. Claire prepared the proper dosage, and as soon as she pulled it back out of his arm, Darien was off.

Just what are these crooks doing that makes them so successful? he thought to himself. What was I doing wrong? Maybe I can learn something from these guys....

He walked down the hall and out of the building to the van. Hobbes was waiting for him so they could start questioning storeowners about the string of robberies.

"What took you so long? You two doin' more down there than just feedin' your fix?"

Darien just shot him a Look, hoping to cut him off before he started all that "Bobby Hobbes the Omnipotent" crap.

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After a day of uneventful interviewing, Darien was looking forward to a night out on the town alone. Of course, he couldn't be sure if Hobbes was still following him on his "downtime," so he kept an eye out for his paranoid partner. As he scanned the street, he suddenly walked into someone and silently cursed himself for not watching where he was going. He turned to apologize and found himself face to face with Collin, an old buddy from one of his stints in jail.

"Collin?!"

"Hey! If it isn't the cat burglar with a conscience. We heard all about your little lifesaving attempt that got you busted. Speaking of busted, what are you doing out?"

"Let's just say I got time off for good behavior."

"What?! Don't tell me you've gone straight!"

"I got a good job now, keeps me in line. But I won't tell you I'm not tempted to go back to my old ways, rejoin the wild side."

"Well that's a relief!" Collin replied with a smile. "I was worried about you there for a second. Listen, a bunch of us got a pretty good gig goin' around town. If that larceny bug starts itching again, come talk to me." He handed Darien a card with a phone number on it and walked away.

Darien went on his way, and after a couple of hours returned to his apartment. He found himself thinking about Collin's offer as he lay in bed waiting for sleep to come. In the end, his conscience won out, and he put those thoughts of his past life as far out of his mind as possible.

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In the next three days, Darien and Hobbes - with the help of Hobbes' "superior detective skills" - managed to come up with a list of three possible store for the next robbery. They planned to stake out the most likely choice while other Agency men watched the other two.

Friday dawned gray and foggy, unlike most of the days they experienced. By, noon, however, much of the fog had lifted, and the dynamic duo sat in the Agency van, ready to apprehend the criminals when they showed up.

They were about ready to give up when a navy blue Chevy Impala pulled up in front of the store and four men hopped out. Darien jumped out of the car and waited alongside the building to sneak up on the thieves from behind as they tried to make a getaway. It gave the desired effect, catching the group off guard, and one of them took off running down the street.

"Go after him!" Hobbes shouted at Darien. "I got the other three taken care of. Backup's on the way."

Darien sprinted after the stray robber, who soon turned down a side street and into a residential area. Both men were athletic and swift, but Darien was steadily gaining in the pursuit. Hoping to put distance between himself and Darien, the thief cut through several yards, dodging toys and jumping hedges. He hoisted himself over a high fence into one backyard, leaping up off the ground and resuming his flight.

Darien vaulted the fence easily, but screamed in agony as he landed. Fire shot up his right leg, and he fought the quicksilvering reaction that kicked in. The thief glanced back over his shoulder in surprise at the outburst, and his pursuer finally got a good look at him. Blinking back the pain, Darien was stunned by the face looking back at him; it was none other than his former cellmate - Collin.

Under the weight of this discovery, plus the realization that he couldn't complete his mission, Darien let out a defeated "Aw crap!" through gritted teeth.

Collin didn't seem to recognize him. He turned and climbed over the back fence in triumph, leaving Darien grimacing in pain as he lay crumpled in some stranger's backyard clutching his knee.

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Hobbes was still standing over the other three guys when backup arrived. He took his time handing them over, relishing every moment of his victory. It wasn't until the last man was read his rights and taken away that Bobby realized his partner had not returned.

Now which way did they run? he thought to himself.

He studied the scene and remembered they had turned down the alley next to the store. He headed off in that direction, growing more concerned with every passing moment that he didn't find Fawkes or the fourth thief. When he reached the residential area, he began asking questions.

"Did anyone see a couple of men run through here about fifteen minutes ago?"

Hobbes followed the fingers that supposedly were pointing him in the right direction. Soon he heard Darien calling his name from one of the backyards.

"Hobbes, he got away. I hurt my knee and can't get out of here."

Bobby knocked on the front door of the house and managed to get Darien back to the van.

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Hobbes had pulled the van into the Agency parking lot a few moments ago. He was now helping his partner hobble across the lab to the chair so Claire could examine him. Darien winced as he shifted into a more comfortable position, which he had no luck finding.

Claire walked in, and her normal expression quickly turned to one of concern.

"What happened?!" she cried.

"Fawkes tried to play Superman with a six-foot fence while chasing a crook," Hobbes replied with a smirk.

Ignoring Bobby's sarcastic remarks, Claire carefully tested Darien's range of motion and checked for other signs to the extent of his injury.

"I don't think it's anything serious, but I want to take some X-rays just to be sure. I'll bring a machine in here so you don't have to move any more than is absolutely necessary."

Darien seemed a little embarrassed by the attention, but offered no protest. He was too worn out from the chase and how it ended to put up much of a fight. Instead, he just nodded weakly and let the Keeper do as she pleased.

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Collin paced angrily back and forth at the gang's hideout.

"I can't believe he lied to me! Imagine Fawkes selling out to the feds! I never thought I'd see the day."

The gang had formed back in prison, so some of the others knew who he was talking about. They worked in shifts, and those who weren't involved in that week's hit had been waiting for the rest to return.

"Are you sure it was Fawkes?" one of them asked. "None of us have seen him in a few years."

"I'm sure it was him. I ran into him the other day when I was staking out the store. I even invited him to join us!"

Suddenly, Collin stopped pacing.

"One thing is for certain. He saw me, too, and that makes him a threat to our success. We're going to have to deal with him."

"You mean kill him?" asked a second member of the gang.

"No, better than that. Darien's an ex-con. His supervisors must still have doubts about his loyalties. We're going to make them think Darien is still as crooked as he was before selling out to them."

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Claire had just finished wrapping Darien's knee in an elastic bandage. She'd had to cut his pants to examine his leg, but she figured Darien would rather have one less pair of too-short pants than have to strip for her.

"You're very lucky," she told him. "Your knee is only slightly sprained."

"It doesn't feel slightly anything!" Darien remarked, cringing as he put his feet on the floor and stood up.

"Well, you apparently landed on it wrong when you jumped over that fence. Take some aspirin when you get home, and try to take it easy for the next few days. I'll let the Official know what the situation is."

Walking over to the refrigerator, she added, "You've probably only got another day left until you need the counteragent again, so I'll give it to you now."

Just as she finished giving him the shot, the door opened with a whoosh, and Hobbes - with his typical perfect timing - walked in.

"So how's our hero doing?" he asked with a wry grin.

"I'll be just fine," Darien cut in before Claire could respond. "Keep here says in a few days I'll be as good as new."

"Could you take him home?" Claire asked Hobbes. "He's in no shape to be driving, and I want to make sure he goes straight to his apartment." Turning back to Darien, she said, "Remember what I said; take it easy. I'll stop by over the weekend to check on you, and then I don't want to see you in here again until at least Tuesday."

"Yes, Mom," Darien muttered as he and Hobbes headed for the door.

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Darien awoke early Sunday morning to the sound of someone pounding on his door. He had followed Claire's orders the day before, staying home and resting. Now he was starting to get cabin fever, and he was happy to have a visitor - even if the clock next to his bed read 7:00 AM. Limping across the apartment, he opened the door to see Collin standing on his doorstep.

"Collin! What a nice surprise!" Darien tried futily to cover his anxiety and hoped Collin hadn't recognized him two days earlier. "You know, you could have called or something. It is kind of early."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Collin replied, scratching the back of his neck, "but I told the guys that I ran into you, and they wanted to see you again. Come on! They're really excited, and I think they're planning something special for you. After all, it's been five years since we last saw you."

"Well, give me a couple of minutes to wake myself up and put some clothes on."

Darien invited his ex-cellmate in and quickly ducked into the bathroom. He silently cursed himself - and the penny-pinching Agency - for not providing him a gun. He showered and dressed, trying to formulate a plan to notify Hobbes or the Official of what was happening. He was hoping to get to the phone and call someone, but Collin was waiting in the bedroom.

"Took you long enough! Let's go!"

Collin dragged him out the door and down the hall. Darien tried to hide the pain he was in, not wanting Collin to connect him with the botched robbery. They got into a gray sedan parked in front of the building, and Collin took off down the road.

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Collin turned the car down a narrow alley and stopped in front of a warehouse garage door at the far end. He honked twice, and the garage door opened. He parked just inside the door and climbed out, motioning for Darien to do the same.

"Welcome to our little home," Collin said with a grand sweep of his arms. "It may not seem much to you, but it's cozy, and we don't have any pesky neighbors to interfere with our plans."

By this time, the remaining members of the group had come out of a room off to the left. Greetings and secret handshakes were exchanged before they moved any farther.

"It's great to see you guys again!" exclaimed Darien. "Collin tells me you're still up to some of our favorite tricks."

"Yeah," Collin agreed, "but unfortunately you know that a little too well. We know you sold out, and we know you were responsible for our failed robbery this week, so now you're going to have to pay." Seeing Darien's worried expression, he quickly added, "Oh, don't worry, we don't plan on killing you. We're just going to destroy your reputation - on both sides of the barbed wire fence."

The others moved in, one pinning his arms behind his back while another tied his hands and feet to a chair. Darien's mouth went dry, and he barely managed to squeak out an "Aw, crap!" before something hit him on the head and the world faded to black.

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It was over twelve hours later when Claire dug the key out of its hiding place to let herself into Darien's apartment. As usual, she didn't need the key, because the door was barely closed, much less locked. Not seeing her "lab rat," she called out to him.

No answer.

"Darien? Where are you? You know you're supposed to be taking it easy..."

Still no answer.

Claire was a bit disturbed by the mess around her - it looked like someone had left in a hurry - but she just chalked it up to Darien's typical living habits. There were several messages on the answering machine, all from Hobbes and her. She was about to give up and assume Darien was out running around just like he shouldn't be. Then she spotted a card on the kitchen table.

"The best financiers in the business!"

Now available for hire

Call Collin: 555-2213

Darien isn't interested in playing the market, she thought to herself. This must be a friend of his - maybe one that he went off to meet.

She dialed the number, and a male voice answered on the third ring.

"Is this Collin?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"I'm looking for a mutual friend of ours - Darien Fawkes."

The voice on the other side got very quiet and unsteady, offering only, "I ain't seen him!" before hanging up the phone.

Claire's brain was kicking into high gear. She was formulating a plan to find out if this Collin knew where Darien was. She picked up the phone again, this time calling Bobby.

"Listen, Hobbes. Darien is missing, and I think he's in trouble. I also think I know how to find him."

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Darien's senses came back slowly, and he let out a slight moan at the pounding in his head. He looked up into the smugly grinning face of his friend - well, now more like ex-friend.

"Hey, Darien! Welcome back to the land of the living! You didn't tell me the other day that you had a girlfriend. She must've found the card I gave you, 'cause she called looking for you. Boy, you sure know how to pick 'em! Sexy accent!"

A bit confused at first, now Darien understood who Collin was talking about. He decided not to let on who she really was and kept quiet. He took in his surroundings, trying to find anything he could use to escape.

As if reading his mind, Collin taunted, "Don't even think about getting away. I know all your tricks. I didn't use any locks, so your skills with pens are useless, and there is nothing sharp around here for you to cut the ropes. The knots are tighter than a Boy Scout's best merit badge work."

Darien shifted in the seat, attempting to find a position that would relieve the stiffness in his muscles and the pain in his injured knee. He was able to clear the fuzz from his mind, but only succeeded in hurting his knee more.

"All right, Collin. You know who I am, you also know why I didn't catch you. How 'bout showing some mercy for an old friend and letting me stretch my leg?"

"Well, since I need you to be cooperative, I guess it would be best if I gave you a small break," Collin conceded. He bent down and untied Darien's right leg, being careful to make sure that his prisoner didn't kick him or try anything else stupid.

"Thanks, man," Darien sighed, flexing his knee gingerly.

"Just don't expect anything more from me. We may be old pals, but you double-crossed me!"

"Look, just because I didn't tell you I worked for the government doesn't mean I'm out to get you!" Darien went on the defensive. "I landed this job because I was doing some work for my brother, and now I'm kind of stuck with it."

"It doesn't change the fact that you're the only one who knows who we are. If I let you go, we go to jail, right? That's not going to happen. You're going to take the fall for us."

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"Here's the card I found in Darien's apartment," Claire said, handing it over to Eberts.

Eberts sat down at his computer and typed in the phone number. He ran a search for the owner of the phone and any information on that person's whereabouts.

"The phone belongs to Darien's friend, all right. It's a cell phone, but the company has tracked down the roaming charges to the warehouse district of town."

"Thanks, Eberts," Claire said. "You've been really helpful."

"I just hope it's enough information to find him," Hobbes muttered.

"It'll have to be," Claire replied.

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Darien worked slowly, trying to loosen the ropes securing his wrists together. He was rubbing the skin raw, but was almost out of them. Collin was busy stuffing weapons and masks into a duffel bag, and all Darien could do was watch and wonder. He had no idea what the plan was, but he decided he was going to find out.

"Um, Collin? Pardon me for sounding - oh, what's the word - demanding, but don't you think I should have some idea of what you've got planned? I mean, I do play a pretty significant role in your destroying my life, so maybe you should make sure I play the part right." He knew it sounded lame, but he was hoping it would buy him some time to get out of this mess.

Collin just laughed at him, saying, "Oh, you don't need to do anything special. Just smile for the security camera, and we'll make sure your fingerprints are found all over the cash register and the safe in back. When they investigate the crime scene, the only solid evidence they find will implicate you. Your government buddies will be so disappointed that they couldn't successfully turn you to the right side of the law that they'll throw you in jail for the rest of your life. And if you try to tell them about us, they won't believe you, because to them you'll just be a lying, no-good con."

"Well, then I think there's something about me you should know. You see, they're never going to lock me up and forget about me, because I can do this." With that, Darien quicksilvered, and Collin let out a yelp of surprise. Darien snapped his wrists out of their bindings, and a few seconds later he was completely freed from the chair.

Collin reacted quickly, running for the door in an attempt to cut off Darien's only escape route. He began yelling to his crew, "Seal off the exits! He got himself free! He's invisible!" This last statement confused the men, but they did as they were told, gathering guns and clattering to guard the exits.

Darien stood in the middle of the warehouse, being as quiet as possible so as not to give away his position.

Suddenly, the side door burst open, and Hobbes rushed into the building, Claire not two feet behind him. Both had guns aimed at the stunned thieves.

"All right, everybody. Drop 'em!" Hobbes commanded. "I got thirty men waitin' outside with itchy trigger fingers, ready to come in shooting at the first sign of trouble!"

One by one, the group lowered their weapons to the floor, acknowledging their defeat. Darien shook off the quicksilver and hobbled over to his partner.

"How did you guys find me?!"

"The Keeper came to check up on you, found your buddy's phone number. We traced it to the warehouse district, where we heard a hell of a lot of noise coming from an abandoned warehouse. Took a chance it was you causin' trouble again." Hobbes' gun never left the men in front of him.

"I don't think I've ever been so glad that you guys won't leave me alone!"

"Well, as soon as your Agency business is done here, I'm taking you straight home," Claire piped up. "I told you to rest, and you certainly weren't doing that here."

"Don't worry. He's got no Agency business here," Hobbes interjected. "The Official took him off the case Friday."

"Then that settles it. Come on, Darien. Let's get you home."

Darien just shot Hobbes a dirty look as they walked out of the warehouse. Other Agency men were filtering in, cuffing the captured thieves and leading them away.

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The following Tuesday, Darien sat the Official's office once again. It was the first day Claire and the Official would let him come back to work, and he was curious to know what happened after Claire escorted him home two night before.

"The members of the group are all behind bars now," the Official proudly proclaimed. "Each is being charged with at least ten counts of armed robbery."

Eberts added, "Your friend Collin will be doing extra time for kidnapping a federal agent, so I think it's safe to say he won't be bothering you anymore."

"Well, boss," Darien said, getting to his feet, "that's good to hear. If you don't mind me, I'm going to join Hobbes for a donut. He may be a paranoid freak, but at least I know five years from now he won't try to frame me for missed Lithium doses."

"There's an old children's rhyme that says 'Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other's gold.' The only problem is, silver tarnishes, and those old friends are never quite as friendly as they used to be."