Castor and Pollux a UFO story by Amelia Rodgers

by Amelia L. Rodgers
©2002 all rights reserved
E mail author
Not to be used without author's permission and not intended to infringe on UFO or CSI copyright.
Dedicated to Carl and Ray.
And a guy named Ed.

The first thing Ed was aware of was the unforgiving heat, the second thing was how oxygen seemed to be in short supply, judging from how hard to breathe it became. Abruptly he lost his balance, slid down the rock face, not understanding where he was or why he was there. Some unseen bird crooned at him from a hiding place as he lost his grip altogether, and cried out as his body hurtled through space. Ex-Air Force he might be, but he preferred to do his flying in planes, not out of them. Fortunately his fall was broken by vegetation.

He took a measured breath, checking that his extremities were not broken, that he could move, pushed his crown of silver hair back, and tried to get his bearings. It was then that he saw the cracked tail of an aircraft, possibly a Cessna. Yes, there was the last four letters remaining, h-a-w-k. Cessna Skyhawk. The cabin was badly burned, and he didn't think whoever was in the cockpit had a chance to still be breathing. Carefully, he made his way across to the fuselage, and saw a charred form that might once have been a man. If he hadn't long been hardened to the shock of mutilated bodies, he might have turned away, retching. However, his eyes had seen people in this state, and even far worse.

Something glittered on its half burnt-half skeletal wrist. A Vertex wristwatch dating back to WWII. . One that belonged to Alec Freeman. Only something beyond his ability to understand was sending him a beacon, and that beacon clearly telegraphed to him that Alec Freeman lived. Without the slightest hesitation he removed the watch from the corpse and clutched it in his hand.

He froze. Someone was moaning. Thankfully not the corpse, complaining of theft. He didn't need anything else but his own internal global positioning system to move away deftly, and follow the sound. It seemed like eternities stretched out on a string like pearls before he saw his goal, but he was a determined, if not patient man.

There the sole survivor was, leg badly twisted, almost completely hidden by the thicket, eyes rolled halfway back into his head. Alec Freeman. Perhaps his old friend, even in his pain, sensed Ed was nearby, because as Ed approached, his eyes opened and focused. Or more accurately, tried to. He was near death, the Australian was, and both men sensed it. In this situation, the alien bacteria in Alec seemed to be sleeping on the job, mused Ed.

"God damn you, you old goat, I told you not to follow me," muttered Alec, never more glad to see the Commander in his life, and fighting tears. He was making as much progress fighting off tears as a three-year-old would have fighting Ali in Ali's prime.

"You tell me a lot of things, I never listen. I stay sane that way, Alec. No, hold still. I'll call for help. Odd, I don't seem to see a telephone box anywhere."

"I'd settle for water, you useless clown," Alec muttered, somehow comforted by Ed's voice, even though his vision of Ed drifted in and out.

"I'd be more than happy to give you Evian or any brand you wanted, Alec, but all I have is this wristwatch. You seem to have lost it. "

"I gave it away to my cobber Roger when he expressed an interest in it. I didn't have any need for it."

" Didn't have any need for a wristwatch you've owned from your air combat days. I see. Didn't have any need for me either, huh?"

"You know something? I actually don't know. My last memory is of being in some automobile, and falling asleep. When I awoke, I was here. Where is here, anyway?"

"Somewhere near Albany, my old cobber Roger and I were going to go rock climbing. Poor bastard is gone, isn't he?"

"Australia, you Bostonian idiot. We'd flown out of Gatwick, hired the Cessna in Perth and were almost in Albany when we developed engine problems. I should have checked it over in Perth, but I guess after everything that happened, I just didn't care."

"Ed, after everything I did, the way I put it all on your shoulders," Alec swallowed, getting precious little moisture, "Going was the best thing I could do for you, after what I did."

"What the hell gives you the right to make decisions about what's right for me? That is what you argued with me about, interfering in your life. So what do you do? You decide that I could do without you. Me without you is like fish without chips. Peanut butter without jelly. Castor without Pollux." Ed began to hunt for branches, and found one he deemed suitable. Then he started tearing off a piece of Alec's shirt, which was already tattered.

"If you hadn't spent all those years dead drunk on pub floors, you might have picked up on the beauty of mythology. Alec, listen, your leg is broken, I have to straighten it out and immobilise it. I can't do anything about the pain. Just hold on. That's an order."

"Why thank you, Alec, I appreciate that you appreciate everything I do for you." Ed responded with relief.

"You're an idiot to come out here for me after how I treated you and what I accused you of doing, Ed."

Ed smiled easily and took his friend's hand. Rough fingers closed over smoother ones for a moment.

"Nothing to forgive, Alec. You can't help being you any more than I can help being me. That's why we get on so well together. Castor and Pollux. They needed one another, and loved one another, so much so that Pollux offered his life in exchange for giving Castor back his."

"That all depends." Ed replied, after a moment of studying the skies, an intent expression creasing his handsome face as he listened to something.

"On what?" Alec inquired wearily. He noticed Ed's mouth had two small sutures on it, and started to ask about it but Ed's enthusiastic shout drowned him out.

"On whether that SHADO Search and Rescue Albatross approaching sees us!" Ed said, jumping up, pulling at his Nehru jacket's Velcro seams, removing it and waving it wildly, shouting at the top of his voice.

Ed Straker writhed and moaned, and felt something grasp him, and might have responded with a head butt if it hadn't been for the familiar scent of Emeraude parfume by Coty, and the feel of soft tresses sweep his cheek. It took an enormous effort to open his eyes, but when he did, he gratefully sank against his wife with relief, holding on to her, strength returning with every beat of her heart. She carefully and rapidly pulled the respirator tube out of his throat and he gasped in pain, wheezed, then settled down, accepted the cup of crushed ice from her, consumed a bit of it, the cold soothing the sting in his throat. She kissed his lips gently.

"Oh my pins and needles, Edward. You're back with us. Oh God. You're back. You frightened us so badly." she told him, taking the electrode discs off his head, and turning off the medical telemetry machines monitoring his brain waves and other vital signs.

"Alec is hurt, dying. I've got to get to him. Get me a telephone. Don't look at me like that. I figured he'd go off like that. What I didn't figure on was that you'd try and cover it up. Just do what I say." Ed's voice was a little raspy.

After her initial shock, she explained what had happened to Alec. She silently gave Ed the note, which she had kept with her. He took it in quickly, but his expression didn't change.

"He's alive. Yes, yes I know the first search party found a burned body with his wristwatch. That's because he wanted to die. He gave it away. I gave it back to him. Claire, don't give me that look. I need nothing less than your total faith in what I say, I was dreaming, but I know that my dream was real, don't make this any harder on me. I don't have much time. Get Zeke, and is Grissom still around?" His voice sounded better which each new word.

Suddenly all his confidence drained from his face, and he looked at her, and she regretted she had even asked that question, seeing the absolute pain cloud his eyes and soul.

"A part of me will not come back from Australia, and I'll need you more than ever. You're foolish to believe I'd hate you because you wanted to make everything all right for me. I was hurt when I woke up and you weren't there, but I understood what you did and why you did it," he told her. "I can't imagine anything that would ever make me hate you. So stop worrying."

"I didn't want you hurt, oh God, I love you so much, Edward. I tried to protect you, but I should have known I couldn't, even though I didn't want you to suffer. I love you and always will love you. Whatever happens, you tell yourself that."

His expression softened and he smiled at her. His smile still had the ability to make her tingle all over. He had several categories of smiling. This one was class sensual, subclass playful, she told herself, and tried not to tear his skimpy hospital gown off and engage in anatomy comparison with him right on the spot. After all, that would be an excellent way to determine how healthy he was. Who cared if it wasn't exactly a test they recommended in medical school? It was hormones versus medical ethics. Medical ethics were coming in dead second, but suddenly they pulled ahead to win in an unexpected upset. Damn.

"Your hair is growing back to how I like it." Ed told her affectionately. She rolled her eyes in pretend disapproval, hiding her pleasure and signalled for the nurse to bring a tray over so that she could remove his IV. Within a matter of minutes, he was in his robe and slippers, and on his feet, speaking crisply into her mobile phone, issuing orders, and then he gave her the mobile phone back. He was halfway out in the hall when Gil Grissom, lightly dozing, heard the activity in the normally quiet, sombre unit and opened his eyes.

"ED!" Grissom exclaimed and came for him with the speed of a meteor hurtling toward earth.

Ed didn't have the opportunity to go into shock, let alone move out of range of the human missile aimed at him. For a full five seconds, Grissom held Ed in a bear hug. Claire stood there and tried to act as if the normally introverted bug-loving criminologist put on a display of uncharacteristic emotion like this all the time. She failed when she saw the dazed expression on Straker's face. Then Grissom let Ed go, and looked like he wanted to be anywhere but where he was. Ed squinted, picked an imaginary speck of dust off his blue paisley dressing gown, and cleared his throat. It was amazing how both men were pretending the egg wasn't cracked.

"Come on. I may need your expertise." It was Ed's best Commander voice. That he could still form words was expressive, Claire thought, because she guessed the embrace had possibly cracked several, if not all, of Edward's ribs. She grinned at him.

"Okay." Grissom said, trying to sink into the spotless tiled floor and blend in with the dull light grey walls.

"Grissom," Ed said crisply as the three of them turned the corner and headed for the lift that would take them to where Zeke waited for them.

Claire had explained to Zeke that the tests revealed no brain damage, but Ed still remained in the comatose-like state. She could not explain to him that the blood work done by her on the Commander had revealed that the bacteria was active, and his body had gone into a sort of stasis while it had mutated to heal his concussion. It accounted for his rapid recovery from what had seemed to be an irreversible coma. He was moving and speaking quite normally now. Zeke had expressed faith that Edward would be all right, and she knew Zeke would be pleased to see he'd been right. She also guessed that if Edward was really hiring him on, the first thing to go would be the Ford Fiesta. Gas chambers after the potassium cyanide capsules were dropped in the hydrochloric acid were safer than Zeke's car, or so Grissom had told her.

"But I'm glad to see you too." Ed smiled, and patted Grissom on the back. The criminologist brightened like a child being given a toy. Claire beamed at the two of them. She only hoped that Alec was alive, for Edward's sake. If it had been entirely up to her, she wouldn't care if she never saw the Australian again. She pressed her lips together in an unintentional echo of Ed's habitual gesture when he was annoyed or angry. She wouldn't forgive Alec for what he'd done, no matter what Edward said.

Claire didn't say much on the entire trip on Ed's jet from Gatwick to Sydney where Ed left the jet and crew, located and hired a Lockheed seaplane and piloted her himself. He'd been somewhat dwarfed because he was wearing Alec's leather flight jacket that he'd worn on dogfights, together with one of his own turtlenecks in grey, but had exchanged it for a sports shirt and a windbreaker, jeans, a thick leather belt, and lace up work boots. She came into the cockpit and handed him the cup from the thermos, and a half of a corned beef sandwich. Ed took a sip of coffee, but waved away the sandwich. She bit into it dejectedly. He'd been alarmingly quiet, saying only what was necessary. Ed talked into the radio, signalling his approach to the search and rescue teams, whom he had carefully stayed in touch with, and providing information for the criminologists. Grissom and Zeke had been trading folk tales about insects in the cabin. Grissom suddenly came in, with a tabloid in his hand. Since he was the last person who would be interested in gossip, seeing the thing didn't encourage Claire any. Ed had glanced briefly over his shoulder to see who it was.

"Go and get your harness on, both of you, seven minutes is our ETA at the area of the crash site."

Grissom flipped through it and showed Ed the headline on one page. Exclusive: Harlington-Straker co-executive Alec Freeman, long time partner of Ed Straker, perishes in plane crash in Australia.

"God damn it, if I find the person who leaked information to those buzzards, I'm going to tear them in half with my bare hands. Alec isn't dead. Is that story credited? I didn't think so. Claire, do what you can to find out who was responsible for that story."

"I wouldn't know where to begin, Edward. But I'll ask around, I have some press friends I talk with because of the Foundation."

Ed exchanged brief greetings with the SAR crew and the police involved, and as he was showing his credentials, he noted the bodies on the cots wrapped in green tarps, in a makeshift tent. Grissom crouched near one body, taking additional trace evidence, and half listening to what his Australian criminologist colleagues were telling him. The Cessna Seahawk had been hired by two men, Roger Chandler and Alec Straker, and paid for with a platinum American Express card, plus the credit card record had showed they'd bought, food, liquor, and rock climbing equipment and clothing. Almost all of the wreck had been discovered, along with various belongings of the men. They believed the charred body to be Alec's, and had noted he'd been the pilot. The second body, also wrapped in a green tarp, had been discovered in the water, and it was thought it was Roger. Ed went and bent beside the body, looking at Grissom. Claire stayed in the distance, flanked by Zeke, but she listened carefully, tense.

"Well?" he muttered impatiently, noting with surprise that the corpse wasn't wearing a wristwatch. "Where's the wristwatch? You people told my wife that you identified Alec because of it, a standard issue military Vertex wristwatch. Have you bagged it?"

"Your wife was quite upset when we finally reached her, Mr. Straker, she may have made a mistake about what she thought she heard me say. We found the wristwatch, but not on this body, which we believe to be Mr. Freeman's. As you can see, Sir, this body was burned beyond clear recognition. We've started DNA tests, blood sampling, and we faxed a photograph of the jaw for dental record comparison to England." he said in the familiar Aussie accent. "With your permission we will do the complete post mortem." He looked at Grissom, not wanting to continue further because of the look on Ed's face.

"Height and approximate weight match, slight differences accounted to the burning of the body. Alec's dental record was faxed through and matches the body's, Ed. The DNA and blood results should confirm identity. I'm sorry." Grissom said, standing up, and handing Ed gloves, indicating Ed should put them on. Claire went white. Up until then, a part of her hadn't wanted to believe it. She walked up beside Ed but he pushed her aside. Zeke was crying quietly, Grissom was professionally impassive.

"Nonsense!" Ed snapped, not having any of it. He pulled on the gloves, marched up to the second body. A hirsute, muscular, tattooed arm dangled from the tarp, on its lifeless wrist was strapped the wristwatch that Alec had so prized. Alec had lost the original one he'd been issued in combat, and as a birthday gift, Ed had an identical watch made for his friend at great cost, not sacrificing any detail. Ed threw aside the tarp. The man's neck had obviously been broken, probably when his body had hit the water and he had multiple bruising. He looked peaceful, but the peaceful features were not those of Alec Freeman.

Ed dropped the tarp and backed away as if the sight of the dead man had poisoned him.

"No." he said firmly, trying to sound confident but his eyes were wild. "This can't be happening."

"Ed, let them do their work. Let them do the post mortem, and send the body back to England when they are through." Grissom said. "I'll check their conclusions, but obviously they found two bodies, and that one is Alec's."

"My people will do it in England with you. Alec's still out there somewhere. You've made a mistake. Alec is out there. Alive. I know it."

"Sir, I know what you've gone through, I saw you on telly. I'm deeply sorry. But this is my jurisdiction, and if a crime has been committed here, I need to follow this case through. All I need to have you do is sign the permit for the post-mortem, but if you don't, I shall file a writ to have it done. I have a job to do."

"With all respect, Sir, I don't want to know why you have that clearance or who your people are. I am sure they are competent. I respect Mr. Grissom. But this is my case. I know this is not a great time for you, but try and understand that." He offered Ed the clipboard with the paperwork and a pen.

"Edward, let him do his work." Claire said, openly crying now. Ed looked at her as if she'd struck him, and marched past her.

"No. If you want to sign that piece of filth, go ahead. I won't do it." Ed snapped and kept going, without looking back.

A week later, a private funeral ceremony with closed coffin was held for Colonel Alec Freeman in the Shado chapel. Alec's body was not present, but a large television screen was showing an image with the coffin at Moonbase. In the room as a substitution for it, a life size professional photograph of Alec openly smiling was displayed on an easel. Most of the Shado operatives were attending in person or at Moonbase, briefly sharing a few words about what Alec had meant to them. There had not been enough chairs in the simple non-denomination chapel, so people stood outside the chapel and in the halls, listening to the service being broadcast all through headquarters, in the Shado section of Mayland Hospital and Moonbase and even being transmitted on audio and video to every last Shado installation and vehicle and aircraft throughout the world. The one eulogy everyone was looking forward to was Ed Straker's. Angel had returned, and had established himself as something of an unofficial chaplain for Shado. He introduced Straker as the last speaker. Ed had not been sitting with the mourners during the nearly two and a half hour service, after which he had authorised Alec's remains to be blown into space. Yetunde and Constantine were present, as were Frances, Graham, Yvonne and even Gil Grissom. Claire Straker, sitting in the front row beside an empty chair meant for Ed, felt people's anxious gazes on her. Her heart was beating so fast she seriously wondered if she was having a heart attack. Angel repeated Ed's name, a little louder this time. Finally the entire room hushed as Ed Straker walked in, carrying Alec's leather bomber flight jacket with his RAF medals pinned onto it folded over his arm. The jacket was as creased and lived in as Alec's face. Ed held it like it was a living being. Since the death of Alec had been confirmed, he had not been without it for long. In his mind, for as long as he held it, Alec was nearby, Claire knew.

Ed Straker genuinely looked like he was being operated by remote control, and only by sheer strength of will was even speaking. They may have been shocked by how thin and white he looked in his choice of Air Force dress blues, ceremonial sword and medals and bars, but no one dared make a comment, or even allow themselves a gasp or hushed gossip. Ed approached the lecture stand, and looked out at them. His resonant voice carried to every part of the room, and really didn't require the addition of the various microphones. He sounded weary. So weary. Her heart went out to him, and she told herself that this was a gesture he sadly had to make alone. Alone. He looked so alone. He draped the jacket over the photograph, touched it briefly, reverently and then went to the dais.

"I shouldn't and needn't have to tell you, ladies and gentlemen, that my sorrow is added to yours. However, to assail disbelief, I should tell you about my personal grief. Few men served their country as well and with such loyalty as my beloved colleague Alec Freeman did. He was a combat veteran of World War Two, the Korean War and the Vietnam conflict. Finally he brought his courage and his passion and his determination and expertise to Shado, the first and the best recruit we've ever had. I say with pride that bringing him in was my decision, and probably one of the two best decisions I have ever made. I shall speak of the second before I leave this assembly. "

Claire, in traditional black wool dress with matched veiled hat and accessories, pearl earrings and pearl choker around her neck, shuddered. She closed her eyes briefly, feeling the hot tears of pride in Edward, grief for Alec and worry run down her face. My beloved colleague. She had not seen the final draft of Ed's speech, but she did not think Ed would choose to speak in such personal terms about Alec, deeming it inappropriate for the situation. Instead, in his demeanour and in his voice, Ed was at last shattering the usual mask he wore in his responsibility as Shado commander. She imagined that some people in Shado that despised Ed, and both she and Ed were quite aware they existed, that the use of the word beloved was going to feed rumour. What did it matter? If two men had ever loved one another in a dispassionate, non-erotic way, these two had. Ed was finally showing his humanity. But what price did you pay for humanity? Ed was standing there, bleeding in front of them. Did they understand that? Did they appreciate how much he had given, at great cost? Dear God, she never should have permitted this. He was standing there, and he was dying. In front of them. Two men would be buried that day, if she didn't do something about it. Instead, in the horrible days leading up to this one, he had characteristically hidden himself in Shado, and drawn away from her. But not for long, she vowed. I'm not letting you take him with you, Alec. Do you hear me? she screamed soundlessly. He's mine. He has the right to a normal life! Claire forced herself to listen, opening her eyes.

"-and now we have forever lost a genuinely warm, genuinely caring human being. He may have had his responsibilities, both as the co-executive of the studio and chairperson on the Straker Foundation, and as Shado's number two operative, but as all of you are quite aware, his contribution went further than that. He would approach men and women and ask about their families, take the time to joke with them, share a drink with them, comfort them when they had lost colleagues in our never-ending fight against the aliens. He was the salt of the earth. It was often whispered in the corridors that while Alec was fire, I was ice. I can tell you, ladies and gentleman, that in the final analysis I am not ice, that this loss will change my life, that I am not invulnerable to the pain that his passing has brought to us all. Posthumously, I have decided to give him a promotion from Colonel to brigadier general. He wasn't the kind of person who sought to make his way up the chain of command, and he never sought to take my place. As far as I am concerned, he gave his life in the performance of his duty and merits the promotion. As many of you know, he was still grieving for his little daughter Ayomide Freeman when he died. For those of you who seek solace in religion, perhaps it will help to think of him reunited with her in whatever lies beyond this life."

Ed paused, and he actually smiled a little. It caught his audience by surprise, but not Claire, for she guessed what he was about to say. His posture and dignity remained as straight as a steel blade, and his still boyish smile was like lightning illuminating what for most people there was the long and dark, silent night of Alec's absence.

"Despite my personal uncanny experiences with metaphysics and the nature of death, I do not yet know with certainty what lies beyond this life. I admit however, for Alec's sake I hope a pub is available."

Ed waited for it to subside, and then he bowed his head for a moment. He raised it and looked at all of them, into their hearts and souls and minds.

"I alluded to the second best decision I ever made, and now I will tell you of it. Ladies and gentlemen, I have decided to step down as Commander in chief of Shado."

Finally there were repeated gasps and protests, even people standing up, mutterings, disbelieving whispers. Ed frowned, put up a hand and it stopped like he had pulled a switch. Decorum returned.

"Colonel Gay Ellis will be my replacement in Shado and as the head of Harlington Straker Studios. I have been working these past days on making the transfer of power as smooth as possible, rewriting the Shado charter and bylaws, and I assure you I have every confidence in her ability to continue in my place and so should you all. That is my final command to you. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your decency and determination and duty in Shado. Don't think for even a moment that I lacked in appreciation for how much you have all achieved, and I only wish that I could retire at a moment where we could say we finally wiped out the enemy, but I cannot. It is time, high time, for me to pass on the responsibility I was given. You do not know this, but in Alec Freeman's will, he echoed his wish in a note that I walk away from the organisation. Doing so is difficult for me, but this is not a job for someone that cannot give one hundred percent, and I am not a person who could or did give any less and you are all aware that for medical and psychological reasons I haven't been here as much as was required of me. I will certainly be available if I am needed as a civilian, but you are seeing me in my professional capacity for the last time. I would hope you would respect and support me in my decision, but know this, it is final. I will devote myself to the operations of the Straker Foundation in the memory of my deceased son John Straker. Thank you all."

Claire shot up, she knew he could not do this, he must not do this. Shado was his core, if he abandoned it completely, he would die and so would it. This was nothing more than following meekly in Alec's steps, choosing to obey his wishes. This was not a carefully thought out conclusion, this was grief, this was hysteria, this was guilt. She opened her mouth to protest, not caring one whit about the murmurs that rose up in the crowd.

Ed looked at her with horror, he gave a firm shake of the head and she slowly sat down. He relaxed.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I ask you to stand, and salute the body of our fallen comrade and friend Alec Freeman with me for the last time, and watch the spacecraft carry a heroic pilot on his final flight."

Ed turned toward the screen, and saluted perfectly in unison with them. Then he gave the sign for people to sit, retrieved the jacket, took his seat beside Claire and nodded toward Angel. Angel began to sing while on the screen was depicted the coffin being loaded onto the spacecraft mechanically on the surface of the moon. Once that was done, it was fired. Ed closed his eyes, and Claire held his hand tightly, willing her strength into him.

Amazing grace! How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me!
I once was lost, but now am found;
Was blind, but now I see.

'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,
And grace my fears relieved;
How precious did that grace appear
The hour I first believed. .

Through many dangers, toils and snares,
I have already come;
'Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,
And grace will lead me home. .

When the rocket vanished, taking forever with it the remains of a much-loved Australian, Angel thanked them and dismissed them. Ed opened his eyes, one hand resting on the jacket, one enfolded in Claire's own hand. People were filing out. Some paused to say formal goodbyes to him. The room was almost empty now, and a few technicians remained to remove the equipment. Alec's portrait was removed to be put in the hall of the studio where it had come from.

"I would think you'd see this as good news, Colonel, so don't look so perturbed."

"I know, Keith. I know. I also know that you must have tortured yourself wondering why I was so hard on you. Did you?"

"Yes Sir!" Keith looked horrified the moment that the words came out of his mouth. "Sir, no, I mean, no! Sir, I know that, Sir, no, honestly."

"Keith, this morning I submitted my resignation to Colonel Ellis and she signed it. It became official right after the ceremony. So I think you can finally call me Ed. We go back a ways, after all. Keith, the reason I rode you so hard is that you always reminded me of me. Perfection was a norm, not something to strive for. Mistakes were not an option. Dedication was what you lived for. You just needed a little guidance. I'm proud of you, Keith. I hope in some small way I helped shape your excellence because when I was nothing but a raw, green student test pilot at Andrews Air Force base, my senior flight instructor did it for me. He died of stomach cancer several years back; we stayed in touch until my Phantom went down over Nam. One day when I brought an jet fighter back to the runaway after manoeuvres in a perfect four point landing, gliding over the concrete and stopping as light as a cloud of perfume, he was standing there when I climbed out of the plane and saluted him. He was always there, and he knew damn well I was the best pilot in his team. My performance record proved it. But he always told me I wasn't good enough. Day after day after day it was the same. You fly like a damn amateur, Straker. You shouldn't be allowed near anything with wings. All I said was that I'd be better next time, and I climbed back into the planes and tried again. And again. And again. Finally when I passed, and was about to transfer out, to go into the astronaut programme, I went to his office."

"No thank you Sir. I ship out at 0400 tomorrow. I couldn't be more happy and excited. NASA has accepted me as a astronaut candidate."

"NASA accepted me, why didn't you? Was it too much to even give me a word of encouragement, not even once? You know as a veteran more than the others what we go through here at Andrews to be test pilots in the service, doing the impossible funded by the budget of the simple."

"That another Strakerism? It's good, boy. You always had a clever tongue on you. You didn't know? Your colleagues talk behind your back, make fun of your Boston accent and your exaggerated patriotism, call some of the things you say Strakerisms. Jealousy, pure and simple. It bother you that you had no friends out here, boy?"

"I applied to Andrews to fly, Sir. Not to be popular. And I'd like an answer. Man to man."

"You'll get it, Straker, man to man. You're the best fucking pilot I've seen in all my career in the service. Without a doubt. You probably flew out of your mother's pussy on the day you were born, that's how much of a natural pilot you are. And you know what I always liked about you? I made your life hell for a purpose and never once did you ever complain. Not once did you ever boast that you were an Eagle in a pen of chickens, when we both knew it. So if you'll allow me to ride on your coattails in a small way, I hope that I played a small part in shaping the hero I know you'll become."

"You just called a superior officer a foul name, Straker. But it'll be our little secret. Write me, will you, Ed?"

"I give you my word, Sir. And my thanks. Even an eagle in a pen of chickens needs a flight plan."

"Oh get out of here, Ed. I've had enough of those Strakerisms of yours, and I hate a bastard who flies better than I do. Dismissed."

"You might remember that, Keith. And Keith, here. Alec was probably closest to you, after me. I want you to have this. Wear it with pride."

Keith was crying without shame, and now he physically trembled as Ed thrust the flight jacket into his hand.

"Sir, you can't leave Shado. It's nothing without you. We've already lost Alec. We can't afford to lose you too."

Ed took Claire's arm, ignored the astonished look in her eyes about parting with the precious jacket, and marched out of the room.

"You attending the wake for Alec?" Ed asked, flopping wearily into a chair and loosening his tie. His uniform had been destroyed in the Silk Wood fire, so he had quickly had another made for him. Zeke had driven the two of them home in Claire's Vauxhall and then had gone into the sitting room to watch some television before going to bed. He had moved his surprisingly few belongings into a downstairs room, choosing not to share the suite with Lancaster and Yvonne. Both had gone to Angel's house, where Frances had cooked for a wake to honour Alec's memory. Yvonne had been making noises about leaving or taking some time off. Ed had said he'd respect any decision she made.

"Namely?" Claire asked, still surprised he had given the jacket away, but relieved he had done so.

"Packing up his things. Most go to Wanda and his family, a few things go to Reginald. Poor Reginald, I rang him and Lily up, but Lily says he is too far-gone to understand what happened. I don't buy it; I think Reg is in denial. As for Lily, she was hysterical, but I think that was mainly because her idea of marrying a grateful Alec after all the months of caring for Reg for him just went down the toilet. I'm not keeping anything of what's left, do you want anything? If not, it'll all go to charity, and his remaining military belongings can go to the RAF museum."

"No. Edward, do you really have to do this, when your grief is so fresh? No, never mind, why did I even ask? Hang on, let me change real quick and help. Come on, at least get out of that uniform too, all right?"

"Okay, sweetheart. Listen, I know I've been difficult the last couple of days. I'm sorry. I know I snapped at you a few times."

"It might interest you to know I made sure several people got promotions and salary raises, an hour for lunch, twenty minute break times, even one free day a month to wear civilian clothing. Also, the last thing I did was give the go-ahead on the new Cicada class Interceptor aircraft. They're in the planning stages and construction won't commence until next year, but I used my Shado retirement cheque to fund the design of the first five. Alec left me a good part of his money and I used that also, in accordance with his final requests. They each are capable of firing five missiles apiece. They look like regular civilian aircraft on the ground, but they perform like souped up Interceptors in space. I wrote into the bylaws that new fathers and mothers get two weeks of paid leave, I made the chaplain position official, and ironed out some difficulties in the details regarding other matters. It's all set. I think Alec would be pleased with what I did with it. Gay's keeping the drink dispenser and the kinetic mural for old times' sake, but the last day I was in there, she had changed some art, and had my desk replaced, the office carpeted and repainted. It's a soft blue now."

"It sounds like pure unadulterated sacrilege to me." Claire muttered in real disapproval. What on earth had possessed Ellis to accept Ed's resignation from Shado? Claire felt like giving her black and blue eyes to match her purple Moonbase wig.

"I am worried about something," he said, allowing her to lead him upstairs. She sighed. Tomorrow is our anniversary, and he's forgotten. I can't complain and add to his misery.

"What is it, Edward?" she asked as he quickly undressed and hung his clothing away in the wardrobe, and stood there looking for something suitable, dressed in only his underwear. His scars were long faded, except for the one on his mouth, where Alec had split open his lip. Claire had long since removed the sutures. He looked heartrendingly gorgeous.

"Morale. When Alec's death was reported in the papers, and we confirmed identification of the body with his dental records, morale suffered. Gay told me she thought she had sufficient respect, but she wasn't certain at all whether the senior staff was ready to see her take my chair."

"Ford's just grieving for Alec in general. They were close, sweetheart. Alec was like a much loved older-"

"Edward, sooner or later you have to give in to it. The grief, I mean. Or it'll eat away at you. I've seen you trying to pretend it all away and it has changed you already, this masquerade, as if nothing has happened, as if you never saw the burned body." Claire was deliberately harsh, hoping to prod him into some exhibition of feeling, but he just lowered his voice, impassive.

"Don't start in on me, Claire. I mean it. I'll grieve in my own time and place."

He chose a pair of jeans, which she had freshly laundered and ironed, and a wool checked shirt in brown plaid, but he made no effort to put them on, sitting numbly down in a chair, confused. Claire stood beside him in her slip, kicked off her heels and took him into her arms. He at first tried to push her away, but finally buried his face against her, shaking lightly as the sobs began. She rubbed his back gently, caressed him. He looked up at her, sobbing.

"I'll never do what Alec did, Edward. He left you alone. That's what it feels like, I know. I felt like that when my brother and then my dear sweet father died, and finally Ryan. Like they hadn't cared. It left a hole in my heart."

"My brother was a complete and utter idiot. A complete and utter idiot and fearless adventurer and fool."

"Not unlike you, Straker. So we don't ever do it to either of us, promise? I lost you for a year, and how I managed, I don't know. I won't go through that again, Edward. This world is meaningless without you in it. I thought you had made up your mind to die because Alec had. I was sure when you quit Shado, you would think Shado was all you were or could be."

"Those thoughts may have passed through my mind. I know I have a new life ahead with you. But-"

"But what? Alec wanted this, and you gave him what he wanted. What more can you give him?"

"Several times. Have you forgotten he pushed Terrilynnn into sex because he couldn't deal with losing his daughter? Have you forgotten he gave you a concussion, which put you in a comatose state for several hours, requiring that I have to put you on a respirator? That scar on your lip didn't walk there, he hit you."

"Alec must have hit you harder than I thought, you're being ridiculous! He practically raped her! She told me herself she was frightened of what he might do if she didn't give in, and then when she realised how wrong it all was, it was too late for both of them. She was the one who decided to go, Edward! She was relieved you called her."

"Don't you Claire me in that tone. This is Mary Straker all over again, isn't it, blaming yourself for the divorce, blaming yourself for the death of your son. Now because Alec is dead, you're all ready to paint him in rosy colours too and carry the guilt for him. Oh my God, Edward, can't you see? Don't you understand? You're giving up, you're not starting a new life, you haven't given the one you have already a chance. Don't I matter any more?"

"How can you ask me these things? You know how important you are to me. Look, I'm tired, and I have Alec's belongings to crate up and send off."

" I'm important? All right, prove it. Start to live again. You haven't eaten dinner. Frances specifically left some ham and a jacket potato stuffed with vegetables for the both of us, and your favourite lemon drizzle cake, or you can have German chocolate, she made that too."

Ed winced, pulled on jeans and the shirt, ignoring her. She marched out of the room in her hosiery after pulling on a dress, he scowled, untied the laces of his brilliantly polished patent leather shoes and slipped on his ankle boots and came downstairs just in time to hear a loud crash of crockery. Zeke came running in, with Dandelion twitching madly in his arms, squirming to get away.

Zeke put Dandelion down, and Dandelion hopped over to Ed to sniff him in an identity check, as if this sort of crisis happened everyday. Happy that her master was home, Dandelion started running around in a merry fashion. Ed stared at her.

"I don't know, I was just feeding the rabbits and making sure they had fresh hay and water, and I heard the crash and came running in. Security team didn't get upset, so it can't be too bad."

Claire came marching out of the kitchen. There were string beans stuck to her dress and ham gravy smears on her hand.

"Okay, Edward. You don't eat I don't eat. I just threw our dinners out the window. Now I'm going out to Alec's house to pack everything up and after that I'm going to bed. Zeke, can you get me some boxes and packing tape and cord, and help us?"

"Sure thing. Let me put the bunnies to bed first." Zeke said and started off with a protesting Dandelion in his hands after deftly catching her in mid-run.

"Let me get this straight, you threw our expensive Royal Worcester china plates out the window?"

"Damn right I did. You've lost eight pounds in less than a week. I don't intend to eat anything until you do. If you'd decided to wear sackcloth and ashes and live on coffee just because that over testosteroned Australian friend of yours got himself killed trying to climb rocks at his age, then so will I."

"I thought I left flying saucers behind me, and you toss crockery I bought around like it was a Frisbee."

"I threw plates, not saucers, but if it makes you feel better, I'll throw the entire service for eight out the Palladian windows!" she screamed at him. He actually backed away at that, and as she departed, he wondered whether to tranquilise her with an elephant gun or to follow her. This was a side of his loving wife he would have preferred not to discover. He hadn't taken seriously what Alec had said about her having the makings of a boxer, and he didn't particularly want to check that out by making her angrier, thus splitting his lip again. He followed her out.

Zeke settled Dandelion in her pen, only to have Fiver and Hazel sniff him, wanting to get into the action. After a moment of thought, he managed to pick up all three bunnies and bring them, wriggling and twitching away, to the house where Ed and Claire were packing things away in silence after he stuck the items needed in his pockets. He figured they needed something to distract them from the thankless job and the row they were having.

Ed was kneeling, folding some of Alec's clothes into tissue paper, and then placing them into a box marked OXFAM while Claire was packing away Alec's items from the bathroom into another box, tossing away his medications and half empty shaving potions in the rubbish.

"What are they doing here, Zeke?" Ed said in surprise, as Zeke put down Hazel, who managed to find the tissue paper, and decreed it a rabbit toy, pouncing on it, while Dandelion not surprisingly hopped over to Ed, pushing his nose against Ed's hand for petting. Claire couldn't help it, she smiled at the sight. She didn't notice Fiver start to chew on the cord of the electric razor, but Zeke did, and quickly grabbed it and placed it in the box. Fiver gave him a 'why did you ruin my fun' stare, and nipped him gently, firmly letting him know that Zeke was below his station and was never to deny a Straker rabbit a toy, and went off to investigate Claire, and found a string bean, in fact several string beans, and a bit of potato. Potluck! Much better than bunny blocks. Claire stared at Fiver, grinning, and allowed her to lick off the ham gravy as well. She was apparently a living bunny treat dispenser now. The other two caught a whiff of the remaining food and hopped over to see what was left.

"They didn't want to go to bed, Sir. So I thought they could roam around the house. Exercise is good for them."

He misses them, but he forgets our anniversary is tomorrow, Claire grumbled to herself.

Zeke, a man who didn't miss much, heard what she said but didn't say anything in response.

"Nothing, I was talking to the bunnies. Zeke, could you see if there's any edible food from what I threw out and bring it here for them? Someone might as well eat tonight," she added, with a look at Ed, who simply took another suit down from the wardrobe off its hanger and folded it into tissue in silence, still avoiding his wife's gaze. "And don't forget, Frances left a plate for you."

"I know, Ma'am, I ate every last bit of it, and German chocolate cake as well, with a huge glass of milk. It was delicious. Watch this rascal Fiver now, Ma'am, or it'll have that razor for sure. Only one eye, my black behind, it gets into mischief easier than a rabbit with both eyes does." Zeke chuckled, and went off.

"I guess this isn't a good time to tell you he's right about Fiver, Edward." Claire said, petting her. Fiver sat sprawled out, acting like it was her rightful due to be eternally petted, but her one eye watched Ed.

"She chewed the case of your laptop computer, and gnawed one of the CD-ROMs. Luckily it was only our property tax payment schedule on the disc, and I had it on paper. The property taxes on Silk Wood Manor have gone up quite a bit, you know."

"I wondered why it looked all bent. Can't you watch her more closely while I'm at work for goodness sake?"

"Me? These bunnies don't give a whit for what I do, Edward. Edward, if you don't pet Dandelion, she is going to spazz out. All these bunnies, which the vet said would never tolerate people, are all playful and loving and happy, and it's because of you. They like you."

"I think they like the tissue paper better," Ed replied, and snatched it away from Hazel. Hazel took this as a go-ahead to jump on Ed to retrieve it, and Dandelion, who had returned to Ed after grooming herself to be spotless after the string bean caper, started pushing against Ed's hand with her nose again. Naturally, Fiver was now inspecting the box labelled OXFAM as a possible Silk Wood Manor for a bunny, and with a quick push from Claire when Ed was not looking, Fiver hopped into it contentedly and burrowed into a wool suit. Ed, having finished his work, sealed the box with tape. Claire just snickered when it began to thump.

"Edward! Did you seal that poor bunny in that box? Open it and let her out for heaven's sake!"

"I didn't even see her go in there. OW!" he added when Dandelion, tired of trying to get across to Ed that she wanted petting, decided to take matters into her own paws and nip him lightly. Ed ignored her and tore open the box. Fiver was chewing on a suit sleeve, not at all disturbed. Ed groaned and took her out of the box.

"Well, " Ed said, looking wearily at the suit which was now suitable more as a bunny toy, "Alec never looked that good in it anyway."

"Maybe we could get your tailor to size it for Fiver. She could wear it with a frilly blouse."

"And give her sunglasses as an accessory?" Ed petted Fiver, earning him a dirty look from Dandelion.

"No, Edward not sunglasses. She was Alec's favourite rabbit of the three. Alec wouldn't want her to make a spectacle of herself." Claire teased, giggling. Ed just stared at her, fighting off a grin. The grin appeared anyway, and then to Claire's distress, sorrow. Claire went over and held Ed, who suddenly sobbed hard against her. She held him for a long time, listening to him gasp between his cries, and it was breaking her heart. Even the rabbits settled down, seemingly knowing something was terribly wrong.

"I couldn't stand to lose you too. Don't leave me, please don't leave me. I have nobody else in the world now but you. I couldn't stand to go on alone without you."

"My precious Edward, I will never leave you. No matter what. I love you. Darling, I love you."

"Don't you understand? Everyone I've ever allowed myself to love and trust has gone away or died. Is it going to be you next? My God, I couldn't stand it!"

"I know. He burned so quickly, so there was nothing living they could exist on, when his cells died so did the bacteria. Darling, don't think about that now. Come on, with me, come up to bed."

"No, don't go!" he cried in alarm, " Everyone I trust and care about leaves me. Please, just hold me a while."

"Edward, I am your wife, I will never leave you, I will hold you for the rest of our lives."

Zeke came back after several minutes rolling in a campaign table, and he noticed with pleasure the two of them were sitting side by side, still wrapping things, and he could see Ed's eyes were red. Grief was cleansing, he thought. A cry was what Straker needed.

"You brought covered dishes and a vase with a carnation in it, Zeke? Seems a little unnecessary for a rabbit's dinner. You've been gone a long time, what were you doing anyway?" chuckled Ed.

"I brought their food in a plastic dish, and just on the odd chance the two of you might be hungry, I sliced up some more of that ham for sandwiches on rye rolls, with some lettuce and pickles and mustard, and I started the coffee, it'll be freshly brewed in a minute. Why don't you two take a break and eat with me? I'm going to have another slice of that German chocolate cake, there's plenty to go around."

"Ummm. That ham smells good, doesn't it, Edward?" Claire said, looking gratefully at Zeke.

" Smells mighty good. Gotta put some meat on those bones, Sir, gotta take care of your health. After all, you and Claire here are the parents of these here rabbits."

"More discipline? They're juvenile delinquents. Where have we failed as parents?" he wailed. Claire laughed. She leaned across and kissed Ed. Then she looked at him wistfully.

"All right. I guess I am a little hungry," Ed admitted reluctantly. Claire smiled in relief.

On the freshly made up four poster bed in the upstairs master bedroom, before he had gone into the kitchen to prepare their meals, Zeke had left one of the many catalogues that Claire sent for, especially around the holidays. Inside this one gift catalogue, Zeke had used a paper clip to hold the page that mentioned the seventh anniversary gift was traditionally a gift of wool or copper. He'd left Ed a scrawled note saying 'You might like to see this.' Z.

He figured that his boss was nothing less than a traditionalist. He had hidden the catalogue inside Ed's perfectly folded pyjamas, a task which Lancaster usually did, but Graham was at the wake. Zeke figured Lancaster didn't have his priorities laid out perfectly no more than he did Straker's pyjamas. You didn't serve the dead. You served the living. And serving meant reminding the master in a subtle way that he and his wife had some celebrating to do.

Maybe it was time for that Lancaster to be assigned to something else in Silk Wood Manor, Zeke had thought. He hummed and plotted while he handed Claire her sandwich, and then Ed his.

"Something smells good," a familiar voice said, pushing the door open and looking in tentatively. "Gil, why aren't you at the wake? If only to keep Lily from marrying Reginald because she thinks Alec left him a lot of money." Ed chuckled. "Haven't you eaten?"

"No, not exactly. I was in the garden, inspecting bugs, and it started to rain so I thought I better come on back before it stormed again. Is there enough dinner for me, Zeke?"

"Don't let me interrupt your dinner. I actually came to say goodbye, I'm leaving first thing in the morning."

Everyone I trust and care about leaves me, Claire thought, the echo of Ed's words in her head.

"I know, Gil. Sit with us. If you value your clothes, don't sit near Fiver." Ed smiled, showing him the tattered evidence.

"I thought I was done with investigating cases with rabbits as the unsub." Grissom said, letting Fiver sit in his lap to smell the raindrops on his shirt.

Zeke had disappeared and came back with four mugs and a fresh decanter of coffee, plus cream and sugar. They ate and drank in contented silence, but Claire watched Ed eat with growing worry and dismay. He still looked so very alone.

And lost, so lost, she thought. At least Alec has peace now. Ed has very little, for all I can offer him.

Grissom looked at her, guessing her thoughts. How far was Ed Straker from perishing in a new and more horrifying abyss?

"Take a look at the photographs, Sir. And we had people positively identify the body, his wife, and even his sisters. Do you want me to ring the Strakers, Sir?"

"God, no, man. And cause Ed Straker even more grief than he already had to go through after we identified that body as being Freeman's? He's suffered enough. He doesn't need to find out his best friend murdered an innocent man in cold blood, and we can't prosecute with Freeman dead, no matter if it is his gun and fingerprints or not. But listen, that criminologist friend of his, Grissley?"

"His number is in the case file. He'd be back in the States by now I should think. Fax all these materials to him and have him look them over. Then tell him I want him and a partner of his choosing to come to Australia without telling Straker. Explain the need for secrecy. Don't accept no for an answer."

"I want to close this God forsaken case, Mackley! And I want to know who leaked information on my case to those bloody gossip sheets!"

Ian Mackley did as his superior asked. Then he went home, kissed his wife Julie, and when she and his two infant daughters had gone to sleep, he crept out of the bed, reached inside his desk to where a key was taped underneath a locked drawer, and used it to open the drawer. A envelope full of Euros was in there; along with a phone number he knew would connect him to the Mirror. He had gotten quite a packet for providing information to them about Freeman being killed, and convinced Julie he'd gotten a raise at work. Now, with this new information that Freeman had killed Roger Chandler's wife, he might finally be able to move out of Australia with Julie and Toni and Alison, and into England at last, live the good life, Bentleys and champagne, quit his job, which had gotten him nothing but worn out shoe soles.

Ed Straker smiled slightly to himself upon finding the catalogue, and while Claire was sitting at her vanity, brushing her hair, he deftly pushed it under the mattress. For a moment, he looked at her, his gaze steady. She caught his reflection in the looking glass and smiled, her eyes luminous. Without a word, she put the brush down and got into bed, allowing him to wrap his arms around her. She let his hands move hungrily over her body, impatient to have skin against skin. A few gasps later, they fitted their bodies together in a rhythm that was older than time itself. Exhausted but content, they fell asleep. Outside the Palladian window, the moon hung full and glowing in the English sky, the night full of secrets.

He had to know. They had told him such things were not told to the white skinned, the Kartiya, but he had to know, he longed for it with every pore, every bead of sweat that fell down his face as he sat with them around the fire. It took quite a bit of doing to not let their face paint or the white around their pupils intimidate him. So when they handed him the clay bowl, he drank from it in a heartbeat. The unmistakable crackling of fire melded with the sound of a lone didgeridoo. Part of him was aware it tasted like rotting fish mixed with warm vomit, but it didn't matter. Castor and Pollux, that was all that mattered. Then he allowed them to strip him of his clothes, and paint his body, and they led him in a ritual march. Colours began to speak to him, and he could hear surfaces, and there was no going back, but he had to know if his beloved friend was all right. That was all that mattered, not the thorns piercing his feet, not the liquid turning his stomach to fire, not that he had only minutes, maybe an hour at most to live. He just listened to his heartbeat, and he marched with them as they sang.

Claire was there, with a terrible outlook, clothed with the Australian sun, wife and mother and goddess and demon and spirit, and she stepped in front of him, and part of him saw that she was as naked as the day she'd been delivered from her mother. She was holding something and it was looking at him, and she indicated he should hold out his hands. There was a terrible sharp pain, and blood mingled with the body paints. He fell. Death awaited him. It beckoned to him. One thing mattered, that he knew. So he looked. And he cried out, he screamed, he caterwauled, he moaned. Because he could see his beloved friend. And his beloved friend was burning. Castor and Pollux, one gave his life for the other, and to see his friend one single time, he would give his life. But he was burning. Burning. Burning. He had loved. Now he would never love again. He pleaded with her to send him back, but she only sat cross-legged in front of him, waiting. He cursed her; she did nothing, her face impassive. A white, slim radiant door opened, and he longed to enter it. But he couldn't move. She said something to him in an ancient dialect that he didn't understand. There was a rush in his ears.

"ALEC!" Ed screamed, sitting straight up. Claire jumped, looking around, and hit the alert button near the nightstand that would summon Lancaster, but it was Zeke that practically made a hole in the master bedroom door to reach him. Ed looked around, and his breathing finally quieted. Zeke switched on more lights. Even trembling with the memory of the nightmare about Alec, he had to chuckle at the boxer shorts Zeke wore. They had little houses on them, with palm trees. Suddenly Ed was filled with a new sadness. Nate. Zeke wasn't all that different from Nate. It was eerie, and he should have recognised it before, but he hadn't.

"Sweetheart, it's all right, I'm here. I'm here," Claire said, rubbing his hand. Ed relaxed a little more.

"It's okay Mr. Straker, you had a nightmare. You want me to get you some hot milk, help you to sleep?"

Graham Lancaster entered and was knotting the sash in his robe with one hand, his Luger in the other, and he was followed by Yvonne, who took in the scene and gave the all clear to the night shift security team on her walkie-talkie.

"Yeah, tastes mighty bad, but I never could convince my mother of it. Some things are mother things; you don't mess with mother things. It's an old cure-all, Mr. Straker, like chicken soup. You want some chicken soup? I kill the chicken for you if you want."

"From the way you screamed in your sleep, the bad dream was having you." Zeke sat on the edge of the bed casually, inspecting Ed for damage. Claire noticed the bed sank a good five inches.

"Relearn?" Ed echoed, reaching for a pitcher of water, but Zeke rose and poured water for him.

"You understand, I'm not much of a violent person, unless someone harms my kin or my friend. But I'd like to relearn. I didn't last long in the army, didn't like my rifle much. Was a conscientious objector, but I never mentioned it. Causes problems. I signed up anyway."

"To send some money home to my wife, and for glory. Wasn't a good decision. I was lucky though, my C.O. liked me and sent me home with an honourable discharge. I learn fast though, Mr. Straker. Maybe you could teach me. Seems like Mr. Lancaster should have had two hands on the butt when he came in here, if you ask me. I'd like to be bodyguard for you and the missus. I like you." Zeke shrugged.

"I like you too. But any intruder sees you, and you wouldn't need a gun. You could just snarl at them, they'd run." Ed pointed out. Zeke cackled.

"No, no, nearly eight. Might as well go down to breakfast. I have a long day ahead of me. You cooking me breakfast, Claire?"

"Guess I'll go burn some eggs and bacon for everyone." she suggested, and grabbed her robe dejectedly and went out in her bare feet.

"I did indeed," Ed answered and pulled the catalogue from underneath the mattress. "You think I actually forgot that today I celebrate seven years of marriage with Miss Grumpy who just left?"

"I knew. I also heard her comment about the rabbits, I just figured I'd let her stew a while."

"That's not good manners to say rabbits and stew in the same sentence, Mr. Straker." Zeke grinned, handing Ed his robe. Ed chuckled.

"Call me Ed, okay? Oh, and look." Ed unscrewed one of the finials on the poster, and withdrew a sparkling object on a shimmering chain. It was antique platinum filigree in the shape of a flower, with a centre round-cut diamond flanked by tiny pearls and smaller diamonds.

"She didn't find that? My wife, now my wife, she could smell jewellery on me with the ease of the way she could smell beer on my breath. Of course, mine was only Avon. That's mighty gorgeous."

"Claire likes delicate jewellery, so it's not all that sensational and flashy, but knowing her, well." Ed smiled. "I asked my jeweller to place a bid on it at Christie's and to bid as high as he needed. It's Edwardian style, and all I did was have Garrard's put an platinum back on it so that I could have it engraved." He slipped it into the pocket of his robe and replaced the finial.

"It's going to be a fine day, Ed. Oh, almost forgot, Mr. Grissom said goodbye and asked for me to keep an eye on you. He told me to show you something in the garden."

"One of his bugs?" Ed asked with amusement mingled with sadness at Grissom being gone. He walked barefoot beside Zeke, practically invisible next to the man's mass.

"I will show you after breakfast, and I better go see to the bunny's breakfast too, you know, those bunnies are divas."

"Tell me about it," Ed said with a dramatic groan. "Zeke, you know we got rid of that car of yours?"

"We all come to a sad end, maybe in another life she'll be a Cadillac, but I doubt it. I like the Vauxhall, damn fine car."

"Yeah, well if you're going to work for me, not only do you need a new car, you need new sleepwear. Where exactly did you get those boxers?"

Ed chuckled as they started toward the kitchen and then they heard a squeal and a loud scream. They ran back upstairs and to the servant's quarters, where it had come from. Graham was livid, Claire was in a corner, sitting on the stairs, holding a transfixed Fiver, and Yvonne came out, looking frightened.

"With all respect, Sir, when are you going to lock up that thing? It got out of its pen and pissed on my pillow, this is uncalled for! Mrs. Brisby is right! Stupid thing should be blasted full of holes and cooked for supper. If this Negro did what was expected of-"

Ed locked eyes with Graham and went still, a bone chilling, malevolent still, and Lancaster went silent. Zeke just shrugged.

"This Negro obeyed Mr. Straker's order to allow the rabbits in the house, to let them play, and not lock them in no pen at night, they are family now. Rabbit has the same plumbing as you or me, Mister Lancaster. Rabbit has to pee sometime. No class system to speak of in rabbits, but maybe you know better?" asked Zeke mildly, going over to Fiver, and gently petting her.

"Claire," Ed said icily, finally taking his eyes off Lancaster, "What happened?"

"I came upstairs to ask Graham if he and Yvonne wanted to have breakfast with us for once, and as I came upstairs, he had Fiver by the ears and threw her out and she was squealing in pain, and I just screamed," Claire sobbed.

"It nipped you?" Ed echoed and looked at Yvonne for a moment. The woman flushed from her toes to the roots of her hair, not saying a word but singing like a canary on sodium pentothal on body language alone. Ed went to the wall, where a phone was, and dialled the number to connect him to the security centre.

"Walton, this is Straker. Bring me today's closed circuit video of the camera in the servant's wing immediately. Immediately, Walton. If I have to wait a second longer than two minutes, you're fired. Understood? Good. I'll be in the sitting room."

"You had a live camera installed in our wing?" Graham gasped, indignantly. Ed hung up, and put out his hands for Fiver. Fiver was still shaking. Ed cradled it, speaking to it gently. It sniffed Ed tentatively, white showing all around its single eye.

"Come with me both of you." Ed's voice was like a pistol shot. Lancaster actually gulped.

"You know the design of a school tie, but you don't know enough not to harm a helpless creature that has one eye less than you do. You may have book learning but you have no knowledge. I feel sorry for you," Zeke said. Graham glared at him as they marched into the sitting room. Ed kissed Claire on the forehead and settled into his favourite chair with the rabbit. Within seconds, Walton came practically galloping in like a racehorse with the tape.

"Put it in the player, and run it back about five minutes. Stop it when I tell you." Ed ordered. Walton, giving a sigh of relief that he wasn't going to be sacked, did so. It showed Lancaster and Lane walking into their room leisurely, and Lancaster stopping suddenly.

On the screen, Fiver came playfully out from behind a chair, sniffing the air. Lancaster grabbed it by the ears and it screamed like it was being killed, kicking and writhing for all it was worth, fighting valiantly.

"Gray! Don't, Straker will have your head, the vet said you don't pick them up by the ears ever!" she said shrilly.

"By God, that tears it! I'm throwing this worthless thing down the stairs and I hope it breaks its fool neck so the Brisby woman can cook it." Lancaster moved out of camera range with it but they heard its cries and Claire screaming.

"Turn it off," Ed said calmly. "That's all, Walton, you're free to go back on duty now."

"Thank you, Sir," Walton said, and happily took the tape and left. He might have been a security man, but he had a sensitive stomach, and he felt bloodlust in the air. You didn't spit in the wind, you didn't eat at cafes named Joe's, you didn't fart in elevators and you never abused the Straker bunnies. Some people never learned.

"You were going to kill it! You filthy, deceitful little man! It didn't nip you at all!" cried Claire, and made a move toward Graham. Zeke caught her by the arm gently.

"Commendable thinking, Zeke," Ed said quietly. "Would you take Fiver for a moment, Zeke? She's settling down, and her ears seem all right, but for safety's sake I'll ring the vet and have him come round."

"Sure, he starts rounds soon, he could come quick." Zeke added, taking the rabbit gingerly. Fiver didn't seem to appreciate being separated from Ed, but didn't kick after smelling Zeke.

"Sir, I'm terribly sorry. I was alarmed, I didn't know what I was doing," Lancaster explained.

"Violence isn't the answer to violence. As I told Zeke, it's a commendable thought on paper. But violence sandwiched by lies-get on your feet, Lancaster."

"Sir, I acted abominably, please accept my resignation." Lancaster said, standing.

"Now apologise to the rabbit." Ed said calmly. Claire's eyes widened. Zeke grinned from ear to ear in appreciation. Yvonne covered her mouth with a hand. Lancaster gawked.

"You heard my husband," Claire said regally, understanding that Ed was going to teach Lancaster the lesson of a lifetime. And what a brilliant way to cut the snobbish ex-Army captain down to size, making him, well, making him kiss furry ass, she thought with glee. And in front of everyone.

"I am NOT apologising to any damn animal. If you don't accept my resignation, then I quit," exclaimed Lancaster, arms folded, nose in air.

Ed did something strange. Ed removed his robe. Zeke and Claire and Yvonne all looked at him in puzzlement. As good a body as Ed had, it seemed a strange time to have a fashion show. The puzzle was soon solved.

Graham Lancaster stood there, nose in air. With one well executed and astounding martial arts blow that would have merited him a standing ovation from Alec Freeman, Ed Straker broke that aristocratic nose with a audible crunch. Claire gawked. Zeke sat down with the bunny, looking like he was about to witness a command performance ordered by the Queen of England. Even Fiver seemed to appreciate the scene. Lancaster understandably was yelling, holding his nose and spraying blood with every movement.

"You broke my nose! You actually broke my nose! Nobody does that to Graham Lancaster and gets away from it!" bellowed Lancaster, looking like he had just come off the battlefield. Ed calmly stretched his fingers, and balanced on both of his feet. He looked no more violent than one of the garden ladies pouring tea and discussing the best way to get rid of the pesky aphids on their prize roses. But his eyes. Oh, those eyes. A man would gladly sell his soul to not be under that glare. Claire bit her lip. She should interfere, after all, she was a doctor. She looked at the happy nose-twitching Fiver, who seemed to appreciate all this was for her. Stop it? Nah, Claire thought, and sat back and crossed her legs and regretted no popcorn was on hand.

"Oh? They don't? Fine, Lancaster. As my friend Alec might say, you want a piece of me? Come get it. I suggest you do it before you run out of blood."

Graham Lancaster made a very, very, VERY stupid decision. He came at Ed Straker. It was comparable to Adam accepting the apple from Eve. It was comparable to a sloth on sedatives trying to outrun a gazelle on speed. It was plain old fashioned dumb with a capital Old English font D.

If Ed Straker had been able to see the security personnel in the video monitoring room at that moment, equipped with video screens getting images from cameras which made a record of every room in Silk Wood Manor as well as the grounds and surrounding woods, he wouldn't have been amused. Because to a man and to a woman, they were all gathered around Camera 12, which was focused on the sitting room. And they were hooting and hollering and cheering and whistling and in joyful hysterics that finally Straker was giving the snobby butler a taste of his own medicine. It would have been an excellent time for anyone to break into the property. Fortunately no one did.

Graham Lancaster went flying. Ed Straker didn't even break a sweat. Lancaster crashed into a nearby table.

"You look like you're enjoying this. I thought you once told me you were against violence."

"This is different. Mr. Straker is defending a lady's honour," Zeke said to Claire, petting Fiver. Claire grinned. Then she gave a startled gasp. Lancaster had actually gotten up and managed to whack Ed hard enough so that Ed fell backwards against the wall-mounted television set, the wind momentarily knocked out of him. Zeke started to get up, but Claire reluctantly put a hand on his and shook her head. Zeke nodded.

"Nice one. I think it's time to disappoint my martial arts sensei, and go back to the streets of Boston."

"Go back to the streets of Boston?" Claire echoed, and then her eyebrows raised to the cathedral ceiling as the icy, contained, stoic, intellectual, serene academic Ed Straker suddenly transformed. Into Alec Freeman. Punch after punch after punch connected to the point where even Mohammed Ali might think at least twice before dissing Ed Straker's mother. The last blow flattened Graham Lancaster. He showed no signs of life. Just to make sure, Ed prodded him with a slippered toe.

"Lane. Drag him upstairs, stick him in a cold shower, pack his bags and get him the hell out of here in a taxi. Tell him he's fired. Up to you whether you want to share a taxi with him or not, but if you go, and you change your mind, don't expect me to welcome you back. Zeke, you'll assume his duties, effective immediately. Claire, ring that vet. Oh and Claire, I think I split my lip. Again. So you'll want to find your medical bag," he added, looking at the blood on his fingers after he gingerly touched his swollen lip.

"Fiver will live. Let me see that lip and that hand. What did you mean by going back to the streets of Boston?" she said, hurrying to the Great Hall closet to get her bag, and she came in, opening it. Zeke was on the phone, speaking to the vet, petting Fiver in his lap. Lane was dragging Lancaster upstairs. In the video room, people were patting each other on the back and reluctantly assuming their posts. They had never cottoned to Lancaster. Zeke on the other hand had insisted on meeting each and every one of them, Zeke was good people, as the cheerful American security operative and video expert Walton put it.

"You don't get born of a British mother and a American Bostonian father and speak with the most outrageous accent at age six without being called a sissy and having your clothes torn and your lunch money taken away from you on a daily basis by the resident bully without doing something about it. And what I did about it was hide my tears from my mother and father, and go to the public library and announce to the librarian that I wanted to learn to defend myself. As fate and fortune would have it, she may have had the proverbial tortoise shell cat shaped glasses and the neck chain, but she also had a husband that had a brother that had the same thing happen to him at that age, only he was Orthodox Jewish, and had ringlets and became a rabbi who reluctantly adopted a goyim. By the time I was seven, I had developed a taste for potato pancakes and I had blackened both eyes of the bully as well." Ed grinned. "And I repaid him for his lessons by teaching his young daughter Miriam Goldstein long division. His gorgeous dewy-eyed daughter, whom I fell toe curlingly in love with." Ed repeated dreamily. " She never fell in love with me back alas. Ah, Miriam, I wonder what happened to her. Maybe she's still in the phone book. Get my mobile for me, would you, Claire? OW!" Ed said when Claire teasingly rapped his shoulder lightly.

"Upstairs, Ed Straker, my darling heroic defender of rabbits. I have to suture your lip."

Later, a small flesh coloured butterfly bandage applied to his lip, which happily didn't need a suture after all Ed showered, groomed himself and dressed, and while Claire did the same, he went downstairs again. The vet had finished examining Fiver, and luck had been with the valiant creature. Her ears hadn't been harmed, just her ego. After again expressing his astonishment at Fiver's behaviour, and in turn astonishing Ed with his bill, the vet had left, muttering something about sheep with broken legs. Which had saddened Ed, reminding him of how much Alec had hated sheep. Zeke had turned up again, playing with Dandelion, Fiver and Hazel, and upon seeing Ed, he beamed.

Ed looked down at his dark blue linen Ralph Lauren suit, his paisley silk tie in pale yellows and blues, his simple square textured gold cufflinks and his paler yellow handkerchief. He fitted a carnation from a nearby vase into his buttonhole, and smiled. Civilian, he thought. How extraordinary. I'm a civilian. He stared into the great hall looking glass. What do you think of the new civilian, Alec? Can you see me? Should I have warned you? What kind of life can I possibly have without your gentle horseplay, without your guidance? How could you possibly think that your absence would be the best thing for me? How? How wrong can a man be? You pulled out all the stops when it comes to being wrong. Now I'll never hear your voice again.

"Hope Mrs. Straker thinks so. What is this thing Gil wanted me to see in the garden?"

"Come on, I'll show you." Zeke replied, guessing whom Ed wanted to see beside him in the glass.

They walked through the garden, toward the thick woods, and Zeke pointed to a cocoon dangling from a branch.

"He said to remind you that nature knew best. Said that if you try and speed up the process of nature, in your case trying to deny your grief, you end up destroying the caterpillar's metamorphosis into a butterfly, you end up destroying yourself, you let the abyss win."

"Butterflies live very abbreviated lives," Ed said after a moment. He gently touched the living silk sculpture that was the cocoon.

"So do humans, Ed. That's why we have to make the most of our lives. This Alec of yours is in paradise, like my little girl, like my wife. They've laid their burden down, and we've got no business picking it up again in grief. I honour them by living, with every breath I take. That's the way you have to live, for your lady and the people who love you. You aren't alone."

"I didn't know I could hurt this much and live, Zeke," Ed responded quietly, tears blurring his vision.

"I know, I visited that abyss too." Zeke took a step and lay a hand reverently on Ed's shoulder. Ed looked up, clear blue eyes wide, astonished, uncertain. "Ed, I know. Look, I know I'm not your Alec Freeman any more than one snowflake is the same as another. Way I see it, you bought my baby a few more months of life. For that, something bigger than you or me put me here, maybe to be your friend. Put Mr. Gil here too, to learn from you and teach you as well. Just wanted you to know, you need me, you're guaranteed I'll be here. I got big shoulders, big ears, big, like the rest of me."

"The biggest thing about you is your heart. Come on, I'm about to take my wife of seven years out on the town, and you're driving."

"Sounds nifty to me." Zeke smiled, pulling a handkerchief from a pocket and handing it to Ed. They walked back to the manor together.

Zeke ignored the looks he was getting at the little Italian restaurant Stomaco Felice, and studied the dessert menu after putting away a huge plate of spaghetti and meatballs. He was seated close enough to Ed and Claire's little corner table to be able to keep anyone from approaching Ed. There were a few people who kept giving Ed glances, wondering if he was really the Ed Straker that had survived Hiram and Jerusha March, or if he just looked like him. Claire was amused, and wondered what they'd say if they knew not only was it Straker making a rare public appearance, but that he owned the little family run restaurant.

Ed was holding Claire's hand while he too studied the dessert menu. He had opted for Beef Carpaccio as a main course while Claire had eaten rack of lamb, both delicious.

"I'm thinking of sweeping all the plates and candles and flowers on this table, and having you for dessert on the red and white chequered tablecloth."

"It's new. You like it?" Claire said, looking at her sleeveless black velvet and silk sheath dress with a low cut v-neck.

"It needs something." Ed produced the diamond and pearl necklace from an pocket in his trousers and she gasped as it caught the light. He chuckled, seeing Zeke over her shoulder give him the thumbs up sign and then go back to devouring his dish of chocolate ice cream. She studied the back of it for a few seconds, touching the tiny engraved letters as if they were alive.

"When did you get it? Oh Edward, it's wonderful, you're wonderful," Claire proclaimed tearfully, kissing his hand. He smiled, pleased at her reaction.

"I managed to-" Ed's explanation was cut off by the urgent beeping of his mobile phone. Claire's rapturous expression dropped off her face as if it was weighted by an anvil.

"Habit. Can't get used to being unemployed. Besides, aren't you on call from Mayland, isn't yours in your purse?"

"Oh just answer it, Edward." Claire sadly let go of his hand, and he reluctantly took the mobile out of his pocket. Not a smart move, Straker, he told himself.

"Straker. What? Wait. Who is this? Terrilynnn? Yes. Stop crying, I can't make out what you're saying. What? No, no, it's fine, calm down now, what's happened? No, of course I won't tell your brother. What is it you don't want your brother to find out? Come and get you? Sure, where? WHAT? Oh my God. Yes. No, no, it's all right, I'll be there in about ten, twenty minutes, yes, I swear it. No, don't worry, I have a GPS in Claire's car, we'll find it. Yes, Gloucester Place, yes. Sit tight, Terry, you did the right thing, I'm coming." Ed stuck his mobile back into his pocket, stood up, put on his jacket.

Ed was calling for the waiter, pulled out his wallet, shoved his credit card at him, hurriedly signed the credit slip when the waiter returned with his American Express, threw some pounds down for the tip and then he signalled to Zeke.

"Give me the car keys. We have to go. NOW." Ed grabbed the keys and zipped through to the front of the restaurant, Zeke and Claire at his heels, Claire gasping when Ed made a mad dash across the street to the parking lot, nearly being flattened by a lorry that ground to a halt to let them pass. The lorry driver expressed himself in some colourful words until Zeke silenced him with one look. They piled into their car, and fastened their seat harnesses. Ed had his customary grim expression on, mouth a unforgiving slit.

The Volvo tyres shrieked their disapproval as Ed pulled out of the lot like his life depended on it. He punched some buttons and the built in GPS screen rolled out and into place. Ed fed the on-board computer some information.

"What's going on? I'll tell you what's going on. Terrilynnn. She just called me from a Regent Park sexual health clinic. She was about to abort Alec Freeman's child. Only she couldn't go through with it. My God, my God, my God."

"Man, it's the season for trouble," commented Zeke, being flung around at high speed as Ed pushed the little green Volvo for all it was worth. He was beginning to regret he'd eaten so much ice cream.

"Oh Edward, that poor woman is all alone, what's going to happen next? Pins and needles! When will it all end?" Claire sighed.

Ed, violating every traffic law in London, had no answer. All he could think about was a child, a child waiting to be born. Alec Freeman's son or daughter, carrying his genes. A part of his dearest friend surviving after death. Butterfly emerging new from the cocoon of grief. Hope. Promise. New life. Alec Freeman had left a gift behind, a means to soften the pain of his absence. Terrilynnn, infected with Alec's alien bacteria that had two hosts now. Mother and child.

Damn, he'd lost it, where could he have lost it? Hard to think. Water almost gone now. He should have listened to them. What a particularly miserable place to die. Well, get it over with, damn it. Die, die, die, die.

Ed Straker whimpered in his sleep, repeating the word die, die and Claire gently stroked him, whispering to him, until he opened his eyes, let out a breath.

"Claire, about today, I'm sorry about the phone. I would have said something earlier but I have to admit, the business of getting Terry here exhausted me."

"I know. I'm glad you had it now, poor Terry, I'm glad we'll look after her. I'm just worried about what the bacteria will do to her, Edward. We have to tell her so that she can make an informed choice."

"You said if she was carefully watched during the pregnancy, that the diabetes wouldn't be that much of a risk to her and the baby. Now we have the bacteria to worry about too. My God, she's going through this alone, how do we tell her about the bacteria? Having a child without a father is tough already."

"We have to tell her, Edward, we have to just hope she's strong enough to get through it. If she decides to go ahead with the abortion, it's better than it be now, early in the pregnancy."

"You're wishing Alec was alive, and knew he had another child, waiting to be born. Edward, you were crying in your sleep again, I'm worried about you. What were you dreaming, my darling?"

"Nothing important, I was in some wilderness, wanting to die, hoping for it to happen quickly. Claire, I'm fine, I intend to take Zeke's advice and live life as fully as I can. The nightmare isn't a sign that I want to give up. Claire, sweetheart, I love you. I'm so sorry I ruined our anniversary."

"I never got my dessert, Edward." she smiled, slipping her arms around him, he felt warm and smelled faintly of cologne, his usual lemony scent.

"Edward, she's pregnant, I have the feeling she won't be shocked at what she might hear." Claire chuckled.

"You smell good, lovely lady. I haven't decided whether I like the Tresor or the Emeraude best."

"You may not have decided, but I have, which is why I wore Tresor. Tresor generally puts you in a passionate mood. With the Emeraude, you're more content to just hold hands and cuddle, and that isn't what I have in mind." She started unbuttoning his pyjama top with a mischievous grin, rubbing the sparse golden hairs on his chest. He regarded her with pretend distaste.

"Oh, you've been conducting a scientific experiment, huh? It's late, what if I simply turn around and go back to sleep? That'll throw cold water on your little theories of seduction, Mrs. Straker," he decreed, while drawing closer to her.

"I'd have to rely on my own meagre abilities and not on the perfume to make you change your mind," she said, kissing him just below the ear. He grunted a little, closed his eyes, letting the slow arousal erase his worry and grief, and he took her into his arms, lowering the straps of her nightgown. She slipped it off, he pulled off his pyjama bottoms until skin met skin, he cupped her breasts in his hands, drawing a faint groan from her when he finally moved into her, slow and steady at first, then almost desperately, their moans merging.

Later, he relaxed after the lovemaking and lay quietly, watching her sleep. Satisfied that she wouldn't be disturbed, he got up, showered, put his pyjamas back on and donned his dressing gown, and was startled to hear her speak as he came into the room.

"Raid on lemon drizzle cake, or checking on Terry or both?" she asked, her eyes opening, her voice husky with sleep.

"No. I'm getting better at sensing when you sneak out of bed. Come on, let's go see how Terry is together." she chuckled.

"Lemon drizzle cake and coffee sounds like a good idea too, " he said, watching her sit up and put her nightgown and robe on. The two of them went arm in arm across the hall but Terry's room was empty. Ed's heart began to pound in dismay, until they could hear the television screeching out some advertisement for MacLean's toothpaste. "Terry, you up?" asked Ed, entering the larger sitting room downstairs.

"Watching advertisements? Terry, that isn't good for the baby. Might stunt his or her growth." Ed grinned, seeing that she'd taken advantage of his satellite TV system. Terry chuckled, and switched off the remote. The cabinet concealing the television swung back into place.

"Edward woke me up with the munchies," Claire informed her, drawing a indignant look from him, "I'm going to get us all cake and coffee, what would you like? We have lemon drizzle, German chocolate and pineapple upside down cake, but we can-."

"All three, of course. You sit, ladies, I'll handle this." Ed announced regally.

"Watch out for Dandelion, she may be on her early morning Olympic bunny run." Claire reminded Ed, and Ed gave her the horrified look she'd expected.

"And you certainly would know about spoiled three year olds, Edward, having a snack at five in the morning." Claire teased.

"Hmm, where's that address book with the divorce lawyer's number?" Ed asked, as he disappeared out the door. Claire threw a embroidered silk pillow at him, but it missed him. Terry sighed.

"I'll never be able to do that, my baby will never play with her father, oh, Claire, my husband died, he didn't want any children, and now, the idea of raising a child alone frightens me so very much. I don't think I've ever felt his way, not even when he died."

"How I envy you. I can't give Edward what he wants most in life, a son or daughter. Listen, my husband Edward can be a intimidating old grouch sometimes, but his soul is that of an angel. You're carrying his best friend's child. You don't need to worry about a thing, you have us. Your brother won't be able to get anywhere near you, believe me. My Edward will see to that. Not even Mother Nature can do as much destruction to someone as Edward does to anyone who hurts someone he cares for. Edward's a walking storm complete with lightning strikes when he's pissed off."

"I saw a little of that, when we first met, thought he was a rude son of a bitch, sorry, but I speak my mind and tell people the way I see things, and I didn't know how Alec could have him as a friend, thought he was just as arrogant as my brother. Afterwards, he spoke to me so gently, with such kindness in his voice, I had trouble believing it was the same man."

"Edward's bark can be just as bad as his bite but if he was as bad as some people have always made him out to be, I would have never agreed to love him and be his wife. I came all the way out here from San Francisco with my friend Ryan to find him, I didn't know I'd fallen in love with him, I just thought he desperately needed someone to care about him. Alec knew his soul, was able to see through him even when he was throwing his weight around."

"I guess I have to get to know him. I have to admit I was surprised at the way he called me, and told me about Alec, about Alec's drinking, told me what had gone on in Alec's life, his failed marriage, his little girl, and then I could hear his sorrow when he finally told me-" she began to sob again, "called me and said Alec had died. Tried to get me to take the house. I said no. He said if I ever needed anything, ever needed someone to talk to, that he insisted I call him, said he was grateful for what I did, that last night I was with Alec, asked me to keep in touch."

Ed had come up with a tray, but he'd overheard Terry, and he hesitated, staying out of sight, listening.

"I never could imagine Alec behaving like he did, even if he was drunk, the way he hit Edward, practically raping you like-"

"Oh goodness, Claire, it wasn't that way, I knew what I was getting myself into, I didn't fall off a turnip truck. I'd cooked him dinner, and he kept watching me, hardly saying anything, drinking heavily, we started kissing. He asked me to go to bed with him, said he was attracted to me, that he needed someone, someone to remind him what life felt like, how good it could be, begged me not to turn him down, told me he was at the end of his rope. Claire, as much as I hate to admit this, the idea of someone thinking I was attractive at my age, well into my forties, someone wanting to have sex with me, it both scared the dickens out of me and thrilled me at the same time. I know I look a whole lot older, Alec thought I was closer to his age, sun and cigarettes will do that to you. I gave up both. I'm no porcelain pushover, I'm made of the same granite as Alec was. I let him seduce me, make no mistake about it, and drunk as he was, " Terry flushed a little and looked at the Persian carpet, "he was all man. I thought my sex life was finished. It wasn't. I fell for Alec that night. When he left without saying goodbye, I told myself that as much as I wanted him, what he'd given me back was enough. It made me a woman again. My brother Alan makes me feel like I don't have a brain cell in my head, simply because I'm a little overweight and have diabetes. Alec made me whole again."

"Oh pins and needles, you sounded so hysterical when you told me about it, I assumed-"

"You assumed he'd practically raped her. Which was ridiculous, even if he was that kind of man, he wouldn't need to. Women were drawn to Alec like moths to a porch light. He had his pick of them," Ed said evenly, coming into the room, and setting the tray down and sitting beside Claire. "How do you like your coffee, Terry?"

"Listen, I want you to know what kind of man Alec Freeman was, I want to tell you about the baby's father." Ed's voice broke at the word was, and he poured coffee for Terry to hide his discomfort, offered her a slice of pineapple upside down cake, forgetting about her diabetes for the moment.

"I only knew him for a couple of days, but I think I know what kind of man he was."

"I gave him that house. In his will, he left it to you," Ed informed her. "You refused it before, Terry, but you can't now. Please. Alec wanted you to be there. He'd absolutely want me to make sure you were taken care of, especially now with the baby coming. You can't go on with that brother of yours dictating how you live your life. We'd be right here, just a few yards away, I'm wealthy, we'll handle your expenses. It'll be nice for Claire here to have someone new to have girl talk with. I'd love to see, well, to see-" Ed turned away, still having trouble managing his emotions. Claire took his hand in hers.

"It would mean everything to us if you let us help raise Alec's child. My husband couldn't stand it if you decided to turn him down and disappear, the way Alec did to him," Claire informed her softly. "If you understand what it means to love a man so much you don't want him hurt-"

"I thought a long time about it. I'll stay. My brother will have a fit, but my life is my life. You need to let me have some way to repay you for my expenses, I won't take no for an answer. I could clean, or cook? I can sew, I can do most anything. Ed, no, I'm afraid that cake would screw up my blood sugar something fierce. You have it, you need to put some weight on that body of yours, Ed." Terry chuckled. "You're a stick with big blue eyes. You need meat on that cute little butt of yours, hon."

Ed made an exaggerated show of blushing and looking over one shoulder to try and see his posterior.

"I'm going to like having you around, Terry." Claire chuckled, hugging the woman. The two of them giggled like schoolgirls.

"You sit, I'll find something myself. I've already been enough trouble, interrupting your anniversary dinner."

"Help yourself Terry, just watch out for renegade bunnies." Claire suggested. Terry laughed.

"Speaking of renegade bunnies," Ed said, watching Hazel come out of a corner, sniffing the air. He got up, crouched and approached her.

"Oh how precious she is! Alec told me he thought that criminologist fellow had put a dent in your brain, the way you'd suddenly adopted pet rabbits, but he said you had a little feisty one-eyed one he liked."

"He's talking about Fiver. Hazel, come here, come here, sweetie," Ed cooed to the rabbit, picking her up.

"Sweetie?" Claire echoed, folding her arms, pretending jealousy. Terry grinned at her. "How is a wife supposed to compete with your affections for that lump of fur?"

"Gosh, I don't know, maybe the same way you competed with my affection for Alec? When you knew perfectly well that there's enough of me to go around?"

Claire gawked at him, opened her mouth to make a impassioned denial, but Ed's steady vivid blue gaze made her realise there was more than a germ of truth in it. A little shaken, she stuffed her mouth full of German chocolate cake. Ed grinned slightly, put Hazel in Terry's lap, and the rabbit looked a little startled, but Terry's expert petting made her change her mind. She sprawled out on Terry's lap, to Terry's delight.

"Claire, come help me locate the other furry juveniles, and get Terry something kosher to eat. You sit and spoil Hazel, we'll be right back."

Ed led Claire out of the room, and she swallowed the bit of cake she was chewing.

"Enough to eagerly jump to conclusions about what he might have done the night he slept with Terry," Ed said quietly, still holding her hand lovingly. "You were quick to judge him, but I know you tried to protect me. The fact is, Alec misjudged me just as unfairly too, thought I was interfering in his life, and all I was trying to do was stop him from getting involved with a woman long before he was ready. He hurt me, Claire, and he knew just how and how much to do it. I can't blame him, grief is a horrible thing to go through. It never fades completely, but it gets easier to live with. Alec had seen people suffer and die, both in the war, and in Shado, but Ayomide's death was different. She was part of him, and she adored him. A child's love for a parent is a powerful thing. And what happened? She died, when it was me the murderer was after. To make things even more complicated, I denied him Terry. I buried myself in work when I lost my wife and son, when Ayomide was lost to him he buried himself in his masculinity, in his sexuality. That doesn't make him a bad person. That makes him human. Being worried I might care more for Alec, might forget that I have you in my life now that Alec is gone, well that makes you human too. Only it won't happen. My eyes are opened, Claire. I'm not that afraid to let myself be loved and love."

"Edward, you are loved. You're loved and cherished and treasured. You mean everything to me. I was just afraid you'd let yourself go, separated from Alec."

"I won't fall into the abyss as long as you hold me," he smiled. "You've been my life line I hold onto for a long time now. I love you."

"Edward, remember, she may choose to abort that child. You may lose the last link you have to Alec. I can't stand to see you in pain, when you're already hurting, grieving. "

"We'll deal with it, my sweet Edward. We'll deal with it together. Besides, from the way she acted with Hazel, I don't think she could bear to kill anything small, even if there's a possibility it may harm her."

"The bacteria has saved us. I'm praying it won't harm her or Alec's child. We'll tell her tonight, give her a chance to get settled, we'll tell her together. Come on, let's find Dandelion and Fiver before they chew up Silk Wood Manor."

Gil Grissom was bent over a microscope, carefully examining a lace and nylon brassiere with ample cups. Ample cups was a understated way to put it.

"I think I've figured out how the victim was killed," Warrick said languidly at his side. Gil didn't raise his head, but made an adjustment to the microscope.

Gil raised his head and elevated an eyebrow. Warrick stabbed an gloved finger at the bra.

"Just an educated guess, you understand, but I'd say you're hanging around Greg too much. Actually, there's adhesive residue on the inside of the cups. To secure the false foam breasts. The she was a he, as David discovered."

"Holly came from Miami, FLA, hitch-hiked her way across the USA, plucked her eyebrows on the way, shaved her legs and then he was a she. Take a walk on the wild side," Warrick intoned. Gil raised his eyebrow a millimetre higher. "It's a song, Grissom."

"A song by the Velvet Underground. Referring to Andy Warhol's colleagues in the Factory, I know, Warrick."

Gil scraped the skin cells into a tube. Then he put the bra into the plastic evidence bag.

Gil's mobile phone rang and he took it out, peeled off one glove, then the other, and placed them into a bindle. Warrick took the evidence, and started to go out, but then he turned around to ask a question.

"Call from Australia. Superintendent Mills wants to talk to me about the Freeman case."

"Yes, Warrick. Get that evidence to Greg, Warrick. Yes. Hello, yes, I can hear you. Further developments? Fingerprints? That doesn't make any sense. Yes. I see, actually I agree, no need to disturb Mr. Straker further without checking this out. What? All right, yes I will, yes. As soon as I can. Goodbye."

Grissom hit the end call button and frowned, stuffed the mobile back into its holder.

"I'll say. A dead man is being accused of a crime. Warrick, handle this case for me. I'm taking more of that leave I've accumulated. I'm headed to England again."

"He's a friend, Warrick," Grissom said, walking to his office with Warrick at his side. Grissom sat and dug through some case files until he got to one manila envelope with Freeman marked on it. He studied the papers and various contents that were in it through his magnifying glass.

"Goodbye Warrick." Gil responded. Warrick sighed and went through the door. Gil looked up, smiled a little, then his forehead furrowed as he studied the copy of the dental records. Finally he picked up the phone and dialled his travel agent.

Claire Straker scrunched up the blankets around her, then stretched, turned over on her side and reached toward Ed for added warmth. When her fingers touched only the cool sheets, her eyes flew open in a panic. She sat straight up and turned on the lamp, heart pounding. Jumping up, she grabbed her chenille robe and then the phone. Desperately she dialled security. The storm raging outside the window appropriately echoed her deepest fears. Had the abyss claimed Edward so completely that he'd take his own life? No, thank God, his Glock remained in the drawer.

Claire didn't bother to say goodbye; she hung up and, pulling on her robe and sticking her bare feet into slippers, she raced down the stairs two at a time. By the time she had reached the Freeman home she was drenched, making a drowned rat look as dry as the Sahara. The door was open, and Zeke was just inside.

"You were sleeping so soundly. Besides, I didn't know Ed was gone until I woke up and peeked in. Then I called Jerome, who works the graveyard, and he said Ed was out here. So I just came to make sure he wasn't alone. But he said he didn't want company. He needs to do some grieving alone, bad as it is."

Claire sighed, nodded and went further into the house in search of him. She found Ed in the room that had been Alec's bedroom. Dust had made a faded recording of where the furniture had been. Ed knelt in the middle of the room, bent over, arms wrapped tightly around himself, sobbing. His pyjamas were moulded to his slim frame from being damp. His feet were muddy and bare.

He looked up. The expression of desolation on his face was like a blade passing through her heart.

"He's out there, Claire. I see him in my sleep. He needs me. He's out there, and he needs me. He isn't dead. I feel it. I feel it."

"Edward. He's gone. You saw his body. You have to let him go. He wouldn't want you to be in this pain."

"I can't stop dreaming about him. He needs me. He's my friend. I can't turn my back on him."

"Edward." she said gently, helplessly. She knew the process of grief was healing. It was just unbearable to watch unfold in this man that she loved with her whole being.

"I can't let him go. I can't, I can't. I can't stand it anymore. It's killing me."

Claire bent and embraced him, and allowed him to sob against her, as he held on to her as if he was afraid she might go. Claire was well aware that even after seven years, he still feared that very possibility, expected it. After a moment, he looked up at her through swollen and reddened eyes.

"There's nothing left of him. I didn't keep anything. Nothing. Nothing. How could I do that? Nothing defined him more than that jacket. I wanted it so badly. It was his favourite possession. It brought me some peace. And I just gave it away to Ford. Must I give up everything? My wife, my son, and now Alec? That jacket was mine, it should have been mine. Oh God, Claire. I have nothing left. Nothing. He wasn't supposed to die without me. It isn't fair. It just isn't fair."

Claire took a deep breath, watching his anguish was like someone had taken a red-hot branding iron to her soul. This man had given everything, without complaint. He had received very little in return. Alec dying had been the final and most unkind straw to threaten to break this gentle camel's back. Water could wear away even the most sturdy of rocks, she thought, and he's drowning.

"Come home, Edward. Come on, my precious darling. You'll get sick. Come home for me, please?"

He slowly rose, exhausted, leaned on her, and she led him back into the manor. Zeke followed, and while Claire got the wet clothes off Ed and cleaned his feet off, Zeke poured brandy into a small tumbler. When he came upstairs, Ed was in dry pyjamas and in bed, looking more like a pale sculpture than a living body. Claire was dry and at her dresser, unlocking and rummaging through her jewel box.

Zeke gently placed it in Ed's hands. There was no fight in Ed, and he lifted it to his lips in numbed hands, sipped, winced as the alcohol burned his throat, paused and then drank what remained in a single gulp, alarming Zeke. Ed let the glass fall, and the last drops trickled out on the pillow.

"Bring the bottle up, Zeke." Ed said, apathy in his usual vibrant and assured tone of voice. Zeke's eyes fell on Claire. She had found what she was looking for, and shook her head firmly at Zeke. Zeke left, slowly closing the door behind him.

Claire picked up Ed's limp hand, put something that felt hard and cold in it, and then forcefully closed his fingers over it. He looked up at her, she was smiling faintly. Puzzled, he opened his hand. His face contorted with waves of emotion. A tarnished medallion on a thick chain lie in his hand, the tarnish almost obscuring the image carved into it. The chain was knotted in places, and it was broken.

"In the plane wreckage. They'd left it out of his personal effects because they hadn't found it yet when they gave his effects to us." Claire got into bed and slid next to him. He leaned against her, seeking the comfort of her touch.

"Saint Jude. I presented it to Alec once when he jokingly claimed working for me was nothing short of impossible. How long have you had it?"

"Long enough. I thought eventually you'd regret giving all of Alec's things away. So I kept this, hid it away, was waiting until you were a little stronger to give it to you. If you want, I will have the chain repaired for you, so you can wear it."

"No. I want it like this for now. Claire, you don't know, you don't know what this means to me. Thank you. Thank you."

"Edward, I know what he meant to you. I may have been uncomfortable with how attached the both of you were. I know when I have screwed up, and I screwed up. Maybe he would have eventually dealt with what he did. Maybe not. I just want you to know I'm glad he was in your life. If there were any way to spare you this pain, I would. I love you Edward. I hope that gives you strength to go on. In a matter of months you'll be able to spoil his little boy or girl rotten. Alec left, and without knowing it, he left a little piece of him behind. Terry and his baby need you now. I need you now."

"I adore and love and cherish you, and I always have, Claire. The intensity of it scares me sometimes. I think I've searched my whole life for someone to walk beside me, for someone to come home to, to be a balm on my loneliness. Once in a while I look down at my wedding ring just to make sure this peace and happiness I feel hasn't been just another wistful daydream."

"I never have read in the New England journal of medicine about a daydream lasting seven years." She smiled. She was rewarded by a faint chuckle from him. "Come on, darling. Go to sleep now. You have those appearances with me for the Foundation to do later on today. They want photographs. You need to look rested, my handsome husband."

"They want to see you. If this program I told you about is going to work, you have to stand behind it. For the children, Edward." she reminded him.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, laying back down, after he hung the medallion over one of the finials on the poster bed, tying the two ends of the chain together temporarily until he could fix it. She smiled and covered the both of them, and turned off the lamp. Exhaustion eased passage into sleep, and dreamless hours slipped by.

A little later, Ed sleepily opened his eyes. Claire was curled up asleep tightly against him, and he sat up somewhat. He reached over and stroked her brunette tresses. Dawn was breaking over the manor; the sun was streaming through the magnificent Palladian window. He sighed. Generally he loved to watch the beauty of it take shape.

"Alec, it's Ed. Can you still hear me?" he murmured softly, and sighed again. Ed turned briefly to check that the medallion was still hanging there, knowing the urge to reassure himself was ridiculous, but not caring much. His eyes widened. Somehow, the sunlight had streamed over and illuminated it. He watched it glimmer until the morning light changed position and the glow faded. Ed looked thoughtful, and scooted back under the comforter against Claire.

"You always were a show off, Alec, old friend." Ed intoned, and closed his eyes. When he fell asleep again his mouth was curved in a faint smile.

Warrick Brown returned from presenting the evidence to Greg, who as usual had been moaning about being swamped with work when he wasn't boasting about his latest girlfriend. He spoke briefly to Nick and Catherine, who were examining photo slides. They nodded, waved at him and he walked on, seeing Grissom's empty office. He paused, looked both ways, and then snuck in. Turning on a lamp, the hazel eyes that contrasted with his dark skin and head full of short frizzy hair fell on the telephone. He lifted the receiver, hit redial, waited. He picked up a ballpoint pen. The person on the other end of the line answered and he grinned.

"Yeah. This is Crime scene investigator Warrick Brown of the Las Vegas Police Department. I understand my supervisor Gil Grissom booked a flight to England through you recently? Could you give me the details on what you set up for him? Las Vegas to New York, New York to Heathrow? I need to be on the same flight to Heathrow. For a case? Uh, yeah for a case. Yeah. Okay, yeah, yeah. When? Man. Okay. Hang on, I'll give you my bank debit card 411." Warrick put down the phone and pulled out his wallet, read out the numbers on his card. "You got that? Cool. Thanks for your help." Warrick hung up and scrawled some info on his wrist with the pen. A hand descended on his shoulder and he jumped.

Dr. David Robbins, one of the senior coroners, grinned at Warrick, as he leaned on his crutch.

"You're the one with the gambling inclinations, but I just bet Grissom is going to feed your black butt to one of his tarantulas for handing his case off to Catherine and Nick." the older man informed him.

"Come on, David, aren't you curious about this Straker guy, just a little? What kind of dude draws Gris to England like a magnet? Man it usually takes an act of Congress to get him to take time off."

"I got two hours, enough to head to my crib, pack a bag, grab my passport and pick up my airline tickets. Why?"

"Observe and learn, Luke Skywalker. I am going to show you the ways of the Force." David said, moving over to Grissom's files. Warrick grinned and eagerly watched him.

"Funny, you don't look like Carrie Fisher," the bearded physician said, and pulled a manila file folder that had the word Lepidoptera printed on its label. Warrick remembered that meant butterflies and moths, and was puzzled to see newspaper clippings in it as the coroner brought it to Grissom's desk and opened it. David located and found a brochure. He unfolded it and tapped a colour photo printed on it. Warrick looked with trained CSI eyes, and saw a late forties, early fiftyish extremely attractive man in a expensive navy blue suit, red tie that looked like silk, white shirt, white handkerchief, plain burnished gold cufflinks and black socks and black patent leather shoes. Warrick estimated his height at just below six feet and his weight around one hundred and fifty pounds. His hair was silver, and styled simply but flawlessly. His mouth was perfectly shaped, revealing a hint of a smile. His nose suited his fine cheek-boned, distinguished looking face, and his vivid blue eyes showed a keen intelligence. His hands were serenely arranged on top of one another. He was reed slim. There was a hint of impatience in the expression, but no nervousness in front of the unforgiving lens. He looked like a model on some New York or Paris catwalk. He was seated on a stool against the kind of background you often saw in posed portraits. Warrick had the immediate feeling that this was a man you crossed at your own peril. Small print underneath the photograph identified him as Edward Straker, CEO of the Straker Foundation, the non-profit charity he'd set up with his wife Dr. Claire Straker to meet the needs of unfortunate children.

"So what about this rich dude is making Grissom chalk up the frequent flier miles? Straker doesn't look the type that would interest him. Straker like bugs or something?"

"Check this out," David told him. It was a newspaper-clipping showing the same man. He looked dramatically different, gaunt, sickly, the blue eyes lifeless. Warrick skimmed the article that described him as the sole survivor after a year of torture by two serial killers in England. He was speaking at a press conference.

"To put it mildly. And don't be so quick to use past tense. What he went through is something you just don't completely get over. It leaves you with phantom pain. The incident, like my leg, might be long gone, but the pain is still there. That this guy hasn't put a gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger is a miracle in itself. Okay, show and tell over, pick up your milk and cookies, kids, and go home. And Warrick? You ever tell Grissom I showed you this folder he keeps hidden, expect me to cut open that fine Negroid skull of yours and weigh your brain. While you're still breathing. Now go my son, bask in the saintly presence of Grissom and Straker and sin no more." The coroner stuffed the contents of the folder back in it, and put it back where it belonged.

"Be sure to tell me everything that happens. And don't forget, you owe me for this."

"Yeah, right. Now if I could only convince my wife of that, she might not insist on her mother staying for the weekend."

Warrick laughed and headed off, more than a little excited. United Kingdom, here I comes, he thought.

"Good to see you in such a cheery mood, boss." Zeke said, from the driver's seat of Claire's beloved green Volvo sedan. They were headed to London.

"Edward Straker, don't you start picking on Zeke." Claire chuckled, and Terry, seated next to Zeke in the front, turned and rolled her eyes at Ed, who sat in the back alongside his wife.

"Ed hon, you know Zeke could bend you in half without really trying," Terry said.

"Good. Then I'll need a room at Mayland and won't have to pose for any photographs." Ed crossed his legs, resting a hand on an ankle. Claire mused to herself that her hormones were doing cartwheels. Ed was in a pristine beige Armani suit, blue pinstriped Turnbull and Asser shirt and a jaunty blue bow tie. His Burberry trench was across his lap. Ravishing wasn't a good enough word for how he looked. For once he had on Bulgari men's cologne in lieu of the usual lemon. She contemplated the possibility of attacking him right there and then. What was the point of having a sexy husband if you couldn't do what nature dictated? She reached over to hold his hand and he pulled away moodily, producing his aviator sunglasses and hiding behind them.

"You're the most stunning looking grouch of a husband I've ever seen," she said, admiringly.

"You're doing this to me," he countered, not a bit taken in by her adoration for the moment, but fully aware of where the sight of her in a form fitting cobalt blue suit with a white lace blouse was leading his thoughts.

"Don't play the innocent with me, Doctor. You're throwing this Christian to the reporter lions, and you know it."

"No, just when he knows he's going to have to make a speech in front of a audience and be photographed by reporters."

"Oh now you're being rude to both Zeke and Terry?" chuckled Claire. Ed lowered the sunglasses just enough to give her a superior look, then he shoved them back in place. Terry laughed. Zeke grinned and hummed some tune no one recognised.

A few hours passed, and Ed made his way back wearily to the car after his fifth appearance at a charity function as representative for his Foundation.

"What now? I've had so many flashbulbs pop in my face I'm dizzy," he announced, getting in and fastening his harness. "Besides, I'm starving."

"Last event of the day, sweetheart. Luncheon at Sutton Court. You'll actually get to meet kids and the families that are taking them in for a month. We hope to have several permanent adoptions come out of this. "

"So the poor devils get to see what normal life is like outside of their prison for a miserly four weeks and then go back to their cold dormitories and colder fish and chips?" Ed asked. "How delightful."

"Edward, it's the same as a temporary foster home, only it creates a possibility that the couples won't want to give the children up at month's end, if they're lucky."

"Then they take memories and presents back with them, at the very least, and they have someone out in the world to keep in touch with." Claire sighed, knowing how flimsy that sounded.

"Ed, it might sound like a bad thing, but I grew up tossed from one foster home to another. Mostly cause people wanted the money that came with me. When it ran out, I got bounced to the next one. Stayed that way, until I turned fifteen and ran off, never looked back," Zeke confessed.

"I must admit I never thought about what it would be like to not have parents while I was coming of age in Boston, or to be turned away by them. I just can't imagine what would be going on in the head of a person that didn't love their own child," Ed told them.