Author: Quicksilvermad (member of the VVSB, DHS secretary, and Hobbes Honey #37)

Comments: I'm not sure if this is quite what I was thinking of when the idea popped into my head...you tell me.

Part 1:

The bright blue San Diego sky was darkening, evil looking clouds hanging overhead. It was an odd sight to see if you knew what San Diego was like during this time of year. To make things worse, it was about eight in the morning when it all started-right after Claire saw the new car pull up next-door to her.

A figure exited the dark vehicle, and entered the building next to hers, fumbling with an odd assortment of keys until the one to the door magically showed itself to the figure. Claire watched silently as he, or she, unlocked the door and came back to the car, unloading suitcases and boxes.

Perking up, Claire ran to the kitchen and began to rummage among what sweets she had in her pantry, coming up with a full bag of macadamia nut and white-chocolate-chip cookies. Too bad she'd have to part with them.

A few seconds after the dark figure closed her door, Claire ran outside with the cookies on a plate, stopped on the porch and rang the doorbell. Not surprisingly, lightning, followed quickly by thunder roared overhead and made her jump a little. The door was opened gently, and someone spoke in a quiet voice to her.

"What is it? What do you want?"

"I'm your neighbor, Claire," she paused to think a second, "Keeply. Would you like a housewarming gift?" she held out the plate of store-bought cookies and smiled. The door opened the rest of the way to reveal a marginally young woman, late twenties, with her dark-brown hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. Her deep brown eyes pierced into Claire's blue eyes, seemingly reading her thoughts. She seemed ominous, her figure fit, and her height testing its limits. Claire silently wondered if she was as tall as Darien.

"Thank-you," she smiled and took the plate, and some of the dark clouds moved away.

"Do you need any help unpacking? I'm sure I could be of some assistance."

"That'd be great. By the way, the name's Maria Nemesis."

Inwardly, Claire shivered at the meaning of the two names. Bitter and vengeance. Once she smiled and stepped into the almost identical house, the dark clouds spread apart to allow sunshine to flow back onto San Diego.

******************************

"Hey Claire! So NICE to see you today!" Darien waltzed into her lab.

"Alright, what do you want?" she looked up from her computer.

"I...need...a..."

"Fix," she finished, standing up to check the little snake that curled on his wrist.

"You must be psychic," he winked at her.

"No, just observant."

He snorted a little at that, and she walked to the fridge for the blue counteragent.

"So...How goes your life?" Darien seated himself in his special chair, lazily bringing his knees up to his chest.

"Fine," she looked up from diluting the counteragent. "I have a new neighbor."

"Really?" he rolled up his shirtsleeve and rubbed the section of his arm where the most puncture marks were with an alcohol wipe. "What's his or her name?"

"HER name is Maria Nemesis," she loaded the needle that looked like it was meant for dental work on a horse and turned to jab his arm with it.

"Oooh...Bitter vengeance. That can't be good."

"Actually, she's quite nice."

With that the needle, or more accurately, the harpoon, came to his arm and shoved its way into his muscle, cool yet stinging counteragent flooding through him.

"Really?" he repeated.

"Do you want to meet her?" Claire grinned, dropping the "shark tooth" in a bin to be sanitized.

He darkened at his cheeks and smiled sheepishly. "I dunno."

"Well, when you do, come over to my place and I'll introduce you to her."

"Really?" he said for the third time.

"Really."

******************************

Claire tossed her briefcase on her upstairs couch and flopped on the carpet. Pavlov waddled in and proceeded to lick her face, and she giggled and stood up when her doorbell rang.

Struggling down the stairs, she sleepily opened the door and peered at the person standing there. Maria smiled at her and asked to come in.

"Sure! What do you need?"

"I just wanted to talk. I want you to know what my line of work is before I try to make friends with you."

"That's fine, and I'll tell you what I do...most of it."

They sat on a couch downstairs, and Maria began.

"I'm a bounty hunter. I don't travel with my work though; I live in one place and travel to my work. Right now I'm in downtime-no one's asked me for a job..."

"Oh...well..."

"I hope that doesn't ruin our chance of a friendship at all," she bent down and scratched Pavlov between the ears.

"None. Well, all I can tell you about my work is that I'm a scientist currently involved in a LONG-term project, and you'll probably find out what it is by accident."

"Ah. I see. So, you want to go get something to eat?" Maria stood up from the couch and motioned to the door.

"That'd be fine. I know this great place in China-town..."

******************************

"Hey Hobbesy!" Darien hopped into the rusted out van so abruptly that Hobbes hit his head on the window from jumping in surprise. "So...What's with this dude Eberts was talking about?"

"Gartner. Joey E. Gartner. He's suspected of smuggling endangered animals into the US and selling them for their furs and the like. Eyewitnesses pin him in China-town carrying a cage with lion cubs into an alternative medicine shop. This is the part of the job we do for the F&G."

"Gotcha," Darien winked and fastened his seat belt. "Let's go!"

******************************

Not surprisingly, the two agents arrived just in time. Gartner was pulling up next to the cure-all medicine shop, taking extra care to conceal what he was carrying into the store. Stepping out of the van, Hobbes glanced suspiciously at the green Jeep parked across the street from them, a blonde and a brunette exiting it. It was unmistakably Claire, but who was that with her?

"Hobbes! What are you doing?"

Snapped back to reality, Hobbes shook of the question and stalked for the shop. When they entered, Gartner was dragging a pair of lion cubs into the back room.

"Lions and tigers and bears," Darien smiled and flashed his badge.

"Oh my," Hobbes finished and whipped out his own badge and pointed to the mewing cubs. "Are those yours sir?"

Gartner smirked and shook his head.

"I don't want any trouble!" the shopkeeper protested.

"And we're not gonna give it to you unless you're BUYING these poor creatures," Darien slid his badge back into his back pocket.

"No! No no no no no no NO! I'm just letting him keep them here for the night," the shopkeeper lied.

"Well," Darien walked slowly toward Gartner.

Expectedly, a gun was drawn from a back holster and aimed at the shopkeeper.

"Alright. You two are gonna take nice, easy steps outta this building," his free hand went to another holster in his ankle, "or you all die."

******************************

Claire took a tentative look behind her at the alternative medicines shop across the street, a tan, rusted van parked in front of it. Maria caught her gaze and waved a hand in front of her face, causing her transfixed blue eyes to blink and her neck jerk.

"What?" she blinked a few more times to get rid of the dry feeling in them.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Maria raised her eyebrows and motioned to the dilapidated van.

"Oh. That."

"Yeah, that."

"So, what's with it?"

"My co-workers. They're probably out on the job. Are you as hungry as I am?"

"Apparently not," Maria laughed and then grew serious, glancing at the innards of the shop the van was parked in front of. The lights were dim, but she could definitely make out someone holding two guns, one to someone's neck, and the other at two people who were apparently trying to talk the person into putting his or her weapon down.

"Claire," she pulled the blonde away from the restaurant door and pointed to the figures, squinting.

"Hmmm?"

"I think you're friends may be en un encurtido."

"A what?"

"A pickle. They look like they're in trouble. Should we go help them out?"

"They can handle it," Claire shrugged.

"Doesn't look like it from here," Maria mumbled and glanced back at the scene. After a few seconds of staring, she noticed a short flash of light and a muffled "pop," and that was when she bolted across the street, Claire's protests being silenced by her own warnings to the people on the streets outside.

******************************

"I swear, the next time this gun is fired, you're dead, fuzzy."

Darien pretended not to hear the comment about his hair and licked his lower lip. His thoughts were reserved for the quicksilver and raising his heart rate at any second. This guy was getting on his nerves.

Hobbes' own nerves were on edge. He hated stand offs, especially when a hostage was involved. Bobby Hobbes never liked it when someone innocent might get hurt. Bringing him out of his thoughts, Hobbes heard a strong rapping on the glass door. Gartner swore, aimed at the glass, and prepared to pull the trigger back as soon as the door was opened.

Not expecting what was behind the door, Maria jerked it open and screamed at the top of her lungs. Gartner yelped, squeezed the trigger, and missed Nemesis by at least three inches. The shopkeeper took this as an advantage, elbowed Gartner in the gut, and ran to hide behind the crazy Hispanic woman. Darien lunged for the gun Gartner had dropped, and Hobbes pulled his own gun out to aim at Gartner.

******************************

Claire shook the feeling of contempt for Maria's stubbornness and trudged across the street, a sheet of rain beginning to fall from the sky. This just made her mood worse, and lightning flashed behind her. This weather was getting too weird. Claire grit her teeth, wiped gathering rain from her face, and shoved the glass door open...

******************************

"What's going on in here?" a familiar Australian voice asked.

Gartner smiled, still holding the other gun. "Why HE-llo!"

Disgusted, Claire turned from scolding Darien, Hobbes, and Maria.

"WHAT?"

Gartner lowered the gun and headed toward her, Darien's muscles tensed, and Maria pulled a small Derringer from the small of her back- her jean-jacket had concealed it.

Ignoring them, Gartner continued. "You are MIGHTY pretty..."

Claire backed up, and Hobbes tried to talk the man down, but Gartner apparently didn't feel like listening to reasoning.

"Listen, majadero, if you take another step I'll shoot you in the knee-cap," Maria threatened. "Either that or another *important* part of your anatomy..."

Gartner stopped.

"Now drop the gun."

He dropped it.

Darien caught a pair of cuffs from Hobbes and slapped them on the crazed man's wrists while stating his rights, and Hobbes picked up the cage with the mewing lion cubs in it and practically dragged them to the van. Claire twisted water from her hair and followed Maria out of the small shop.

"What is it with the weather today?" she muttered.

Maria turned to face her and smiled. "It's just something that happens when I feel hostile or upset...Once I'm in a new place long enough, or I get to know people better, the effect goes away. Just an anomaly about me."

Claire nodded, not quite understanding.

"Ah! It's good to be BACK!" Maria grinned and stretched her arms behind her head, and the rain faded.

Part 2:

Claire trudged back downstairs in the very early morning, Pavlov dancing all too happily around her feet. She gently kicked him away and drowsily poured herself a cup of her hazelnut coffee, a yawn popping her ears. She blinked a few times to get rid of the crud that had built up in the corners of her eyes and scooted to the couch. Taking a deep swallow of the coffee, she eased herself into the soft chair and tried to wake up.

Pavlov whined softly, and she set the warm mug down on the ornate coffee table and searching underneath it for his leash. Pavlov went crazy, hopping up and down and running around in circles as she tried to attach the leash to his collar. She stepped into her slippers, trudged for the back door, and led the dog to his outdoor restroom. It took him a few minutes to make up his mind, and Claire forced herself not to yawn again and waited for Pavlov to finish his business, yanking him back into her house.

She went through her normal routine of eating a well-balanced breakfast of Eggo waffles and a banana and reading the paper, oblivious to the person watching and waiting to strike

******************************

Get the laptop, get out...get the laptop, get out...take care of her if you have to...come back and take your new orders... * the thief went over his orders through his head. Why this man wanted her LAPTOP and ONLY her laptop was beyond him, but at least he was keeping his life. He watched her come down the stairs and turn her back to him and took this advantage to break through the glass.

******************************

Startled beyond description, Claire yelped and had a hand clamped over her mouth before any more cries could come out of her.

"Don't'...make...a...sound," he whispered.

She nodded, trying to hold back tears. Pavlov was barking up in her bedroom-she must have accidentally shut the door on him after dressing.

The burglar pulled his hand back and she bit her lower lip, the tears she had been holding back cascading down her cheeks.

"Now, I'm just going to take your laptop..."

"NO!" she yelled, running toward him as he gathered up the laptop with its power cord and turned to leave, but she was in his way, holding up a small statue in defense. The burglar shook his head and pulled out the dart gun his hire had given him. Claire dropped the statue, but he let the needle filled with a sedative fly, and it landed in her left shoulder. She gasped, the calm black curtain enveloping her. *Now I know how Darien feels when...* She slumped onto the floor, and the burglar left through the shattered window.

******************************

Maria swore she head a commotion next door, but decided against it, snuggling back into her pillows and falling back to sleep.

An hour or so later, she was up and ready to circle want ads. After about thirty minutes of red penciling, she became finely attuned to the persistent rapping on Claire's door. She stood from her position on the floor, grabbed the 9mm-hand gun in her coat closet, and step silently out her front door.

******************************

Darien knocked on Claire's door for about the millionth time and his patience was wearing thin. *What is going ON? * Walking to the window, he peered in through the tiny sliver of vision that was the barely open curtain. Shaking his head, he walked beck over to the door, placed a palm on its surface, and directed the quicksilver to coat it. NOW he'd be able to see... Claire was lying on the floor, apparently unconscious, and a window near the back of the room was shattered on the floor. The quicksilver fell away, and he tested the doorknob once more before trying to pick the lock with parts of a pen he had in his pocket. The click of a hammer on a 9mm caused him to freeze.

"¡Levántese! Stand up!"

He did, very slowly and holding his hands above his head.

"Turn around."

He twisted on his heel and faced her, eye to eye. Looking down at her feet, he noticed she was wearing the same shoes he was. *No difference in height... *

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to see Claire."

"How do you know her?"

"Look, will you put the gun down?"

"DON'T change the subject!!! How do you know her??"

"I'm her friend."

"Not good enough. I'll ask her myself," Maria moved for the door, but he stopped her.

"There's no answer. And it's locked."

"Nothing I can't fix," she aimed at the lock and prepared to shoot, but Darien stopped her.

"Whoah! You can't do that, I'll just pick the lock, OK?"

Maria mulled over it for a second and nodded, still aiming the gun at his torso.

Within seconds the door was open, and Darien was at Claire's side, looking her over for injuries. She was lying on her stomach, and he flipped her over to see if she had any damage on her other side. The dart in her shoulder gave it all away.

"What's wrong with her?" Maria lowered her gun, obviously trusting Darien now if he didn't try to attack her friend again.

"Sedative. If I'm right it'll wear off in a few minutes."

"How would you know?"

His deep brown eyes met hers and he grimaced. "I've had personal experience with them."

That was the first time he'd met Claire. Now she sort of knew how he felt when she just let the little projectile loose on him. Those suckers leave a mark.

Maria eyed him oddly, her dark, slightly crimped hair falling in front of her eyes. "Is there anything we can do to bring her out of it faster?"

"We can try water, but that's my best idea."

Maria nodded, tucked the 9mm in the back of her belt, and headed for the sink. "Pavlov..." Darien stood up and began calling for the dog. "Here boy...tch tch tch...PAVLOV!"

The dog's frantic barking was coming from upstairs, and he slowly opened the door. Pavlov came out like a banshee, nearly tripping him down the stairs. Finally recognizing him, Pavlov attacked Darien with little puppy kisses.

"Yeah, it's Darien," he tolerated it for a few more seconds, but got a little over-licked and pushed the dog off. "She's coming to!" Maria yelled from the kitchen, a pitcher of ice water in her hand.

Darien launched himself down the stairs, mutt in tow, and he knelt down next to the drugged scientist, reassuring her that she was safe.

"Darien?" she held a hand over her forehead and squinted at his figure.

"Yeah, it's me...Do you remember what happened to you?"

She thought for a second and glanced around the room. "I got robbed!"

Darien heaved off the floor and began to give her entire house a meticulous search-being a former thief, he knew just what to look for.

"Where's you laptop?" he called from up in her room.

"They," she paused, realizing exactly WHAT was on her laptop, "they took it..." she whispered, dread settling in on her.

******************************

Maria was checking the window for prints, her own fingerprint powdering kit resting on the glass that covered carpet. The entire patio door was coated in the orange powder, revealing glove prints that stained the broken glass.

"No finger prints?" Claire flinched at the ice Darien was applying to her bruised shoulder.

"Only if you count leather as a fingertip," Maria answered, beginning to clean up the mess she had made. "What was so important on that laptop that you're all worried about?"

The color drained from Claire's face and she swallowed hard. "It was the information on that LONG-term project I told you I was involved in."

"And what would that be?"

Claire tilted her head at the dark-haired woman. "You know I can't tell you that..."

"Well, you better if you want me to help you."

Darien squeezed Claire's uninjured shoulder and whispered something in her ear- to which she countered with a stern "no."

"Just let me!"

"No! Darien, if you do, you'll be endangering the Agency!"

"How?"

"Well...I...I..." she growled and shook her head. "Fine! Go ahead!"

"Thank-you!"

"Now what's this about?" Maria unconsciously wiped her orange hands off on her indigo jeans.

"You wanted to know what Claire's project is?" Darien stood and stepped closer to Maria.

"As a matter of fact, yeah."

"It's me."

Maria busted out into laughter.

"I'm dead serious Maria," his eyes never even flickered, and her laughter faded.

"So, what's so special about you?"

He grinned a bit lopsidedly and quicksilvered, vanishing from sight.

"¡No me digas!" she jerked as he placed an ice-cold hand on her shoulder.

"Well, believe it."

"Alright, Darien. Time's up. We wouldn't want you to saturate your bloodstream too much," Claire clapped her hands.

"OK."

He willed the mirror-like quicksilver to flake off, his face inches from Maria's.

"Boo."

Part 3:

"Whaddya mean, 'let's show her around,' we don't even know what she's like!" Hobbes paced back and forth in The Official's office, his arms waving around in the air for emphasis.

"Claire has shown that she can be trusted, and I'm sure she'd like to understand what Mr. Fawkes here has shown-I mean not shown her," The Official countered. "Eberts, her file."

Eberts stepped forward, a thin manila file in his hands. "Miss. Nemesis is a bounty hunter, and The Official and I feel she would be a great asset considering this," he handed them the file.

"Everyone on that list that Miss. Nemesis has been sent to catch has been caught. Not a one has escaped her-ever." Eberts clasped his hands behind his back and smiled. "I'm sure that you and Mr. Fawkes can accompany her on the retrieval of The Keeper's laptop."

Darien grinned. "That's fine with me."

Hobbes was less enthusiastic. "I'm not sure about this, sir"

"Too bad. You'll do this, or you're on street duty looking for people who fish over the limit or smuggle animals here."

Hobbes mulled it over, pros and cons running through his head. He wasn't about to trust this 'Nemesis' lady. "You have two more minutes to think, Mr. Hobbes," The Official glared at his watch.

"Fawkes, what're you gonna do?" Hobbes turned to Darien.

"I'm gonna find Claire's laptop-no matter who it is I'm working with."

Hobbes rapped his fingers on the chair he was standing behind. "Rrrrrr...OK. But I don't want ANYthing to do with this 'Nemesis.'"

"Well, Mr. Hobbes, that will matter a lot since you're both leaving tomorrow to find this thief. And I don't want you to screw this up-you find him tomorrow, we'll be FINE."

Hobbes growled again. He'd rather stick his head in a vat of boiling oil than work with Nemesis.

Before he could answer again, Eberts ushered Claire and Maria into the office. "So, we gonna catch this guy?"

Darien nodded to her and got up from his seat. "I'm in."

"Bobby?" Claire all but batted her eyelashes at him.

He thought for a few more seconds. "OK, I'm in too. I'm just not so sure about this."

"He stole information about ME Hobbes- I'd be pretty sure about it if I were you."

"Well, that proves you aren't Bobby Hobbes my friend."

"Thank God for that," Darien muttered.

******************************

That day, or what was left of it was spent considering all possible directions the thief could have gone, who hired him, if he was hired, and about a million other possibilities. They spent so much time talking and thinking that they didn't realize that it was around 8 AM the next day until Eberts came down to the Lab and nearly had a heart attack from seeing them there. Not having slept a wink, and starting off late, whoever had Claire's laptop could have done anything they wanted with the information on it, and they wouldn't be awake enough to do much. It was going to be a long day.

******************************

"So, you're Darien Fawkes, and he's Robert Hobbes?" Maria pointed to each man. "Yeah. You already knew my name though, right?" Darien slammed her car door shut. For once he wasn't in that nasty van.

"Somewhat," she smiled.

Hobbes hadn't said a word since they were at The Agency, minus some ideas on who the perp was and who hired him, and he was still playing the mime. He hadn't even so much as looked at Maria.

"Now, Claire, you say he sounded Swiss?" Maria asked, and Darien stiffened. Swiss could only mean one person was behind this all: Arnaud de Fohn.

"Yes, and I assume he left through the patio door."

"Then that's where we start."

******************************

"You know Hobbes, if you just get to know her, you'll find out she's really a nice bounty hunter," Darien pointed out. They had been retracing what they thought were the thief's steps for the last two hours.

"I'm sure I would," he spoke for the first time in at least three hours.

"Wait! He didn't go this way!" Maria tightened her grip on her handgun, grimacing.

"Where'd he go then?" Darien stepped next to her and eyed the tracks she was staring at.

"Further back, he made a left turn."

"How are we going to find my laptop before someone makes another gland?" Claire asked.

"I doubt we'll find him in time, considering how much time we've lost being introduced and all..." Maria muttered, picking up her pace to jog back. "Whoever has that data could have one made by now."

"I for one know it takes about three weeks to get out of the coma after the implantation of the gland. Unless Arnaud found a way to get around that."

"Well, there's the possibility of recovering quicker if certain drugs are used. And that's part of my notes. Arnaud will probably have a new Iman by tomorrow, ready for training."

Maria motioned for them to stop. "He went this way."

******************************

Arnaud de Fohn snapped the latex gloves off. Creating the gland wasn't as hard as it seemed, though it took almost an entire day, and implantation would be simple enough for him. It was the candidate for the process that disturbed him. She was very resistant to becoming the next Iman-they even had to sedate her to get her to calm down, and he had no idea why. For this one, he tried to eliminate QSM, only to meet with deformities in the gland-such as only fear being the thing that activated the quicksilver, and the slight problem of a sort of over dosage on the QS hormone. He'd have to settle with the counteragent.

"Sir, she's waking up," an officer he had hired informed him.

"Good. Have her prepped for the surgery."

"Yessir."

Oh, Fawkes would regret ever meeting THIS invisible woman...

******************************

"¡Déjeme solo!!!" Elena screamed. This had to be kidnapping and something else illegal. They had taken her out of her house, called her sister to tell she had been taken, then dragged to who-knows-where with a blindfold on, and then sedated. Now they were going to implant a gland into her brain to allow her to become invisible.

"Well well well. Sleeping beauty has awaken," Arnaud entered the strange operating room she was in, dressed from the neck down in a HAZMAT suit and he carried the helmet under his armpit.

"¡Basta! I don't want to be a part of this!" Elena struggled against the thugs holding her, but they had grips like vices.

"That's not really your decision, now is it?"

The strapped her to a chair and began to inject her with various inoculations and drugs. The last one knocked her out cold.

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Maria could tell something was wrong, something was clouding her judgment and pulling her off track. She knew what it was, but she didn't want to acknowledge it.

"Maria, you're sure he went this way?" Claire asked. They had been ambling around for the past five or six hours now, and they were beginning to look a bit haggard.

"Positive. He's in one of those buildings," she pointed to the vast selection of warehouses, shops, and small offices on the outskirts of San Diego.

"Luckily there's four of us," Hobbes stated. He'd finally accepted Maria and was talking openly now.

"Nah, this won't take too long," she jogged for the first shop.

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To read the rest of this exciting story, please click continue.