Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, I just play with 'em and hand 'em back, none the worse for wear.

Author's Notes: Posting late again, my computer was at the computer-hospital for almost a week getting over it's multiple(!) virus infections. On the upside, I was so bored I re-tiled my entire kitchen floor to keep busy since I couldn't write.

Story Notes: Highlander/due South crossover, with a cameo here and there from Hellboy, and a few other cameos the sharp-eyed might spot. One character from Airwolf guest-starring this chapter!

SequelTo: Geometry: Chapter 13, Moving & Swimming

Ray's cell woke them all up offensively early, even Fraser and the wolf were still snoring in harmony. Ray swore groggily and fumbled for the bedside table, he wasn't used to Mina's bedroom and his reflex grab for the phone came up several inches short. Fuck, who was calling him at this hour? He disentangled himself from Mina and Frase and lunging across the bed, managed to grab the phone before his voicemail kicked on.

"V'cchio," he muttered. Welsh's bellow was like a knife across his eardrums and Ray groaned and held the phone away from his ear.

"Vecchio!" Welsh bellowed. "What the hell's going on?"

"Wi' what, Lieu?" Ray protested, his speech still slurred with sleep. Last night caught up with him and he jerked awake and sat up in bed, the covers falling down around his waist. "Hey, did we get a hit on that name I faxed over?"

Fraser was awake, braced up on an elbow with an arm still wrapped protectively around Marina's waist. Mina was in her usual morning fog, and only burrowed deeper into the pillows with a sleepy, inarticulate protest at the disturbance.

"No, this is worse!" Welsh roared. "Do you know where the wolf's girlfriend is?"

Ray blinked and temporized. "Jeez, we moved inta the apartment next ta hers, Lieu, I could probably put my hands on her if I needed ta."

"Find her, the wolf, the Mountie and I want all of you in my office in the next hour, detective!" And the phone disconnected with a ringing slam.

"He sounds upset," Fraser observed mildly. "Really, Ray, that's a terrible pun at this hour of the morning, 'I could put my hands on her if I needed to'?"

Ray dropped the phone on the floor and burrowed back under the covers, reaching for Mina's hip and Fraser's mouth at the same time.

"What?" Ray grumbled, dragging Mina's body close as he pulled Fraser's lips to his for a greedy, invasive good-morning kiss. "So I need ta put my hands on her. Don't you?"

Fraser considered that as calmly as he could given Ray's very direct approach to morning osculation, and since the lithe warm female curves pressed up against his morning erection were very pleasant, duty took a short break while intimacy started the day instead. Even so after several minutes of satisfied necking, Ray and Fraser groaned in tandem and pulled apart.

"Mina," Ray said gently, nuzzling her ear, the closest portion of her head not buried in the pillows. "C'mon, baby, I need ya ta hear me. Ken ya come with us ta th' station this morning? The Lieutenant needs ta see us."

An incoherent mumble drifted up out of the pillows but her groggy half-nod was enough of an answer for Ray.

"Awright, baby," he said, stroking her tumbled hair. "Frase and I gotta go shower an' get dressed. We'll leave the door between our place an' yours open, whoever's finished first'll come lookin' fer th' others, okay?"

Another gentle moan accompanied her hand fumbling for his neck and Mina pulled him down with the lightest of tugs, and brushed her sleep-softened lips over his mouth. It was so tender and unconscious a gesture Ray had to swallow hard. Fraser was watching them somberly and he leaned down, smoothed Mina's hair away from her temple and brushed a kiss over it. She sighed another achingly tender breath and caressed her cheek against Fraser's hand as he drew it away.

Fraser swallowed hard. Dear Lord, she was so fragile and beautiful like this, balanced on the border between waking and sleeping, drowsy and defenseless.

"Dief'll watch over her, buddy," Ray mumbled, completely understanding his partner's reluctance to leave as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and scrubbed his hands over his face in an effort to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

Fraser nodded as he slid out of bed on the other side and he and Ray padded out of the bedroom as Dief crawled up the bed and started licking Marina's face enthusiastically.

Walking down the hallway shoulder to shoulder with Ray, Fraser tugged thoughtfully on his ear. "What was the cause of the Lieutenant's not-inconsiderable agitation, Ray?"

Ray shrugged and wondered if Mina was going to make coffee. God, he hoped so. He might be able to face getting dragged out of bed early on a Monday morning if he sucked down a couple cups of that great stuff she brewed.

"Dunno. He just bellowed fer us all ta get our butts into his office pronto." Ray groaned when he look at their apartment. "Damn, Frase, do ya know where my clothes are?"

Fraser took pity on his partner. "Hanging in your closet, Ray. I took the liberty of organizing the unpacking according to which items we were likely to need soonest."

"Ben, you are a god," Ray muttered in fervent gratitude and smacked a sloppy kiss on Fraser's mouth before weaving through the boxes to his bedroom, already dragging his t-shirt off over his head.

Fraser stood a moment smiling in bemused happiness; reflecting on the wildly altered state of his life, then headed for his own shower.

* * *

Diefenbaker shepherded Marina into sleepwalking through her usual morning routine and lay down outside her bathroom door while she showered as the coffee brewed. A volcanic shower helped clear her head and wrapped in a towel, she sucked down half her first cup of coffee as she rummaged in her closet.

She had classes this afternoon but they were doing lab work, so it was jeans all the way. She threw a pair of leaf green jeans with embroidered vines up the sides and around the pockets on the bed, and a green thong and matching bra landed on top. The labs would be pleasantly cool in this hot weather so Mina flipped through several hangars before settling on a three-quarter sleeve, emerald green crop cotton sweater. Comfortable, but fairly professional... and it showed off her belly ring, which should piss that jealous witch sister of Ray's off no end. Since she had to visit the station house she might as well enjoy it. A quick rummage through the rows of shoes and boots neatly lined up on the closet floor turned up a pair of forest-green suede boots with soft rubber soles Duncan had bought her, perfect for being on her feet on industrial floors all day. Also good for keeping your traction on slippery surfaces during a duel.

Scrubbing her hair mostly dry, Mina tossed the damp towels on the rack to dry and pulled on her outfit, ducking back into the bathroom to run a comb through her hair. Looking into the mirror showed her a problem that would need addressing before she could leave, though!

The marks Diefenbaker, Ray and Fraser had left on her neck had come up beautifully during the night. Beautiful was hardly a term most people would apply to a matched set of fang and hickey marks, Mina reflected, smiling smugly at her reflection, but as far as she was concerned, they were awesome...

She chewed her lip while adding a bit of eye makeup to liven up her still fatigue-shadowed eyes, brushed her teeth and slicked a quick sparkly peppermint gloss over her lips. What did she have for jewelry that would cover her neck? It would have to bee a choker of some kind, and it needed to match her green outfit... of course! The Tang Dynasty imperial green jade choker with dragon pendant and the matching hair sticks!

She even had half a dozen antique solid carved jade bangles to match it in yellow, red, lavender, white, green and blue jade. She'd have to take them off to work in the labs but so what? If she felt like showing off, Mina reflected, she'd damn well show off! No jade earrings -that was a pity, she'd have to remember that for Methos, he was always wanting to surprise her with something she particularly fancied- but her pale green freshwater pearl earrings would match. And she could pull a pearl off one of the earrings she wasn't wearing and slip it on her belly ring for a charm so that'd match, too.

She popped open her safe hurriedly, rummaged among the velvet jewel boxes and pulled the three she wanted then shut it fast, keeping an ear cocked for Fraser or Ray the whole time. Explaining the origin of her outrageous jewelry collection was going to be one massively long discussion, they didn't need to have it yet.

Back in the bathroom, she wound up her hair into a loose knot and skewered it firmly with the jade hair sticks, slipped in the earrings, fastened the choker around her neck -the six strands of close fitting jade beads hid her pack-marks nicely, much as she'd like to show them off- and slid the bangles onto her wrist. Then preened in front of the mirror for just one minute at how pretty it all was.

Damn, she just loved jewelry... and really, Duncan would be so proud of her- she was getting quite passable at this style thing. And it had, she giggled under her breath, only taken her a century to learn it.

"Thanks, my darlings," she whispered, blowing a kiss at the picture of her, Duncan and Methos in Paris that she kept on her bedside table. "I love you."

She detoured into the kitchen for another cup of coffee and found Ray helping himself to the pot on the warmer as he whistled admiringly. Marina struck a fanciful model's pose and then laughed wryly at herself as she refilled her cup.

"Does Ben drink coffee?"

Ray shook his head. "Nah, he's into tea. Bark tea, if ya can believe that."

"Sorry, no bark tea." Mina grabbed a mug, filled it with bottled water from the fridge and popped it into the microwave to heat. That was easy- Duncan loved tea, she had a couple dozen varieties in glass jars in the pantry cupboards. She fished out one of her mesh tea infusers, ducked into the pantry and scanning the glass jars quickly, pried the lid off the jar of English breakfast tea. A quick scoop filled the infuser and when a glance at the microwave showed the water was boiling, she whisked the mug out and dropped the tea-filled infuser into the hot water.

Ray stared in fascinated admiration. "Damn, you did that in..." he checked his watch, "...under three minutes. Ken ya teach me how ta do that fer Frase?"

"Sure. It's easy if you have the right tools." She leaned against the counter and sipped her coffee, watching the tealeaves bleed color into the steaming water. "Where is Fraser?"

"Walking Dief. They'll be back in a sec and we ken split."

Ray bumped his hip against hers companionably and they spent a quiet minute drinking.

A clatter of nails signaled Fraser and Dief's return and Mina nodded at the mug of tea when they entered the kitchen.

Fraser's eyebrows rose as he picked up the mug, he swirled the infuser to mix the tea and nodded in surprised approval at the aroma.

"Thank you kindly, Mina," he told her.

"Want honey or anything?" she asked.

"I prefer to enjoy such a delightful blend plain. Additives merely sully the bouquet."

Mina had to smile. Duncan told her the same thing so many times, and she would still stick her tongue out at him and dump a spoonful of honey in hers when they were drinking it together.

"What?" Ray asked curiously, eyeing her fond introverted grin.

She leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Duncan always used to say the same thing," she offered slowly, stirring the chocolate spoon in her coffee. "Since you two have been around... I can remember the happy times, you know? Thinking about them isn't all tears and separation anxiety." She looked up and a quirky, off-kilter smile twisted the corner of her mouth. "Thanks."

Ray and Fraser stared at her, at each other, stunned speechless.

"You're welcome," they said together, at a loss at what else to say.

Mina drained her cup and laughed as she set it in the sink. "Kiss me before we go. We probably shouldn't be playing smashface at the precinct and I could use a ration of affection to make the day more pleasant."

Ray and Fraser swapped glances and drained their own mugs in identical movements. Fraser took Ray's and rinsed all three mugs in the sink as Ray pulled her up against his body and nipped along her lower lip.

"Umm, coffee, peppermint an' Mina. Yummy."

Fraser dried his hands on the sunflower-patterned kitchen towel hanging by her sink and stepping behind Mina, slid his arms around her and Ray together. Mina and Ray both smiled an invitation, but since Mina had asked she got the first kiss as Ray nuzzled Fraser's cheek. Remembering the odd, three-way kiss they'd shared over the weekend, Ray nudged his way gently into the liplock; but Mina, Ray and Fraser all got a shock at how fast the kiss turned hot and passionate when they all kissed together. Mina moaned and her body went pliable between Ray and Fraser's.

Christ, Ray felt Fraser's dick jerk to attention at that subtle surrender as much as he felt his own react.

Fraser dragged them back from the brink of another bout of lovemaking and it strained his iron discipline to the breaking point. Dear Lord, he wanted this...

"We can't," Ray gasped, tearing his mouth away and panting for breath, for control, for anything to back off the tidal wave of lust sweeping over him.

"I know," Mina whimpered and with a major effort of will, forced herself to relax the death grip she had around Ray's waist and step back, swallowing hard.

Fraser sucked in a steadying breath and straightened the front of his red tunic with unsteady hands.

"After you," he husked out, gesturing for Mina and Ray to precede him.

* * *

The precinct house was bedlam, even more so than usual, and Ray's instincts screamed a warning the second they walked in the front doors. He stopped dead and flipped a glance around the entry, nervousness was pouring off the desk sergeant and the uniforms standing around as shift broke were all stiff and jittery. Ray wanted to pull his piece and sweep the fucking building. Fraser caught it half a second later, and moved to bracket Marina between them. Dief shouldered up against her legs and the fur along the wolf's spine bristled up as he growled, low and menacing, sniffing the air for threats.

"What the hell's going on, guys?" Mina asked in an undertone. "There's enough tension in this room to support the Golden Gate Bridge."

Ray shot Mina a quick glance, the fingers of her right hand were flexing like she wanted to reach for a weapon. The odd thought flashed through Ray's mind that she'd held the saber in the exact same way. How weird was it in a dicey sensation she'd want to reach for a sword? Even for a martial artist that was pretty strange.

Ray shoved it out of his mind, shrugged his lack of answers and not giving a flying fuck what anyone thought reached for Mina's hand, twining his fingers through hers. Anything screwy was gonna have to go through him to get her. Even as off as the station vibe was, it still shocked Ray when out of the corner of his eye he caught Fraser taking firm hold of Mina's other hand as they walked up the hallway to the bullpen. As undemonstrative as Fraser was, holding Marina's hand in public was a fucking billboard sign about his feelings for her.

Huey caught sight of Ray through the bullpen doors and bolted towards them, holding up a hand to stop them before they came in. Dewey was right behind him, partially shielding them from sight. The door to Welsh's office was closed and all the blinds were shut, indicating there was a serious meeting -or confrontation- going on in there. The bullpen was crowded with feds- Ray would recognize those black shades and gray suits and raincoats anywhere. Frannie was sitting... no, cowering at her desk in tears; clutching a handful of Kleenex and being interrogated by a woman in a white power suit with two more feds staring daggers at her while a tape recorder whirred on her desktop.

"Jesus, Vecchio," Huey hissed, staring at Marina like he expected her to burst into flames at any second. "Who the fuck is she?"

Not the reaction Ray expected. He shrugged and shifted on the balls of his feet, rocking back and forth as the tension Huey was projecting hammered at him, feeling the familiar lick of anger building in his throat.

"She's my friend," Ray snapped, deciding to cut right to the chase. No way was anyone starting shit about Mina, not while he was around. "What about it?"

"Stella and Frannie tried to run a security check on her on the QT over the weekend," Huey hissed. "It threw up red flags all over the goddamn federal 'net, an' two dozen feds showed up here this morning like a fucking SWAT team."

All the color drained out of Marina's face. "They did what?" Her hands tightened on Ray and Fraser's so hard they both blinked and glanced down, her knuckles were white and her hands weren't trembling only because Ray and Frase were holding them.

"They hauled in yer ex-wife and Frannie an' they been grilling the snot of 'em all morning," Dewey muttered to Ray. He shot Marina an uneasy look but was careful not to get too close, Dief's fangs were bared and his ears were flat back against his head as he growled. "What the hell kinda work did you do for the feds?"

"Oh, God no," Mina muttered, lost in her own thoughts and horrified to the point the guard she kept on her tongue slipped for an instant. "The federal 'net's not secure, we know it's not secure, the queries came from Chicago... oh Christ, they'll know where I am now..."

Huey, Dewey, Ray and Fraser's stares all suddenly riveted to Marina's face. That one sentence fragment combined with her appalled expression was all they needed to figure out a big portion of what was going on, and it was a kick in the teeth like nothing they'd expected.

"The feds," she whispered urgently, staring at Huey, "what department are they from? Who's in charge?"

Huey just gaped at her and then wound up all at once. "Who's in charge?" he hissed. "Archangel, that's who! The goddamn Deputy-Director of the fucking C.I.A.! The guy's a one-eyed interrogation squad! He's in Welsh's office right now ripping him a new one for not keeping his subordinates under control. State's Attorney Rogers, Stella's boss, is in there too and he's practically hyperventilating he's so damn scared..."

Marina's expression changed so fast Ray nearly got whiplash watching her face.

"Michael's here?" she gasped, going even whiter than before, but she let go of Ray and Fraser's hands and shoved past Huey and Dewey so fast they all gaped after her.

"She uses Archangel's real name?" Dewey blurted out. Huey was stunned speechless.

But Marina didn't shake Diefenbaker; the wolf was right by her side as she bolted into the bullpen. Frannie gasped and cringed as Mina came in and the feds interrogating her all spun around. The dark-haired woman in the white suit pressed something on the cell phone in her hand immediately and the door to Welsh's office slammed open an instant later.

The man that strode out leaning on an ornate silver-headed cane was so unusual Ray and Fraser just stared, thrown off balance. This was the Deputy-Director of the Central Intelligence Agency? This was Archangel? Michael Coldsmith Briggs the Third? Who'd outlasted the last five presidential administrations? The guy every Federal Agent in the U.S. was scared spitless of? During his undercover stints Ray'd seen N.S.A. and Secret Service agents just shit themselves at the mere mention of the guy's name.

The blinding white three-piece suit and black silk tie was a shocking change from the usual gray bland feds wore, the blacked-out lens of his glasses hiding one eye was even more startling, but the raw power and authority that poured off him was like being slapped with hard nuclear radiation. That white suit outlined a body still lean and tough despite the cane and the full head of gray hair only gave him a distinguished air that didn't detract an iota from the sheer menace the man projected. He was coldly, purely, furious. Raw, focused rage barely contained by an iron will. All of which lasted until the second his eyes hit Marina.

She stopped dead in her tracks when the door to Welsh's office slammed open, and Welsh, State's Attorney Rogers and Assistant State's Attorney Kowalski all came piling out of the door right behind the guy in white.

Ray's eyes skipped briefly over the Stella and he noted unlike Frannie, she wasn't crying, but Stella was terrified. Scared stiff right down to her bones. Once upon a time, that look on Stella's face would have kicked all over Ray's protective instincts into overdrive. The fact it didn't should have been a shock. It wasn't.

All Ray could think was that if Stella's petty jealousy had put Marina in danger, the fucking Deputy-Director of the CIA was gonna seem like a pushover compared to what Ray was going to say. Not to mention what he was going to do. After knowing the Stella better than anyone for twenty-five years, Ray knew enough to ruin Stella's career, enough to lose Stel her job, more than enough have her disbarred; if Ray really put his mind to it he could ruin Stella's life far worse then she ruined his... and for the first time ever Ray knew he was capable of doing it.

But everyone in the bullpen was staring at Marina and Archangel, their gazes locked so hard it was obvious the entire room had ceased to exist for them both. All they were aware of was each other, and the connection between them was filled with so many conflicting emotions and so much unspoken information flying back and forth it was impossible to follow.

Expressions flashed over Archangel's face in blinding-fast succession; white-hot rage blown clean away by sheer stunned shock that was erased in a single swipe by horrified realization, next an explosion of guilt-edged pain like a fist to the gut that eased into weary, tired sadness, and finally, an expression utterly impossible to identify.

Watching Marina was even harder, so much pain, shame, anguish and raw agony was pouring off her half the bullpen shifted uneasily and looked away, unable to bear looking at so much naked misery.

Archangel finally blinked, shoulders slumping as he leaned his cane against a nearby desk and opened his arms.

"Mina, darling," he said sadly, a lifetime of regrets hanging in the words. "I'm so sorry."

A harsh, agonized sob tore its way out of Marina's throat. She was across the room and in his arms in a second, clinging to him as she cried, terrible, ripping sobs that were hurting Archangel as much as they hurt her.

Oh, god, how it hurt... too much to hold inside, too much to bear, too much of everything. Seeing Michael so unexpectedly -her dear friend of almost forty years- triggered a tsunami of all the loneliness and separation anxiety and sheer brutal anguish her yearlong exile from everyone she ever loved caused. It shattered her fragile composure, left her lost in misery so sharp and acute she could do nothing but cry in those so-familiar arms. She missed being held by a friend so much, the hurt went so deep, it was all more than she could bear. All that was left was that dark ocean of sorrow that rose up and drowned her.

Michael had looked at her, seen her emaciated and shadow-eyed and brokenhearted and known without a single word being spoken she was dying inside. It wiped the rage out of Archangel in a microsecond and left only Michael, her old teammate, her beloved friend, hurting with her with every iota of his soul. Having that connection back, that singing current surging between them, to get back the one thing she just couldn't live without, devastated Marina. It broke her, just when she'd started to cobble her shattered soul back together...

Archangel held her gently and let her weep, his lips resting against her forehead.

"I didn't know," Michael murmured, stroking her back with impossible kindness for a man so subtly menacing and self-contained. "I'm sorry. This has been hell for you, hasn't it? Sheer living hell. I'm so sorry, my darling, I didn't know..."

Marina only cried harder, the sheer despair and loss in her aching sobs propelling Ray and Fraser forward without conscious thought until they were standing beside her, staring at Archangel with twin baffled wary gazes.

Still cradling Marina against his chest, Archangel held out his right hand.

"Michael Coldsmith Briggs," Archangel said simply. "You must be Constable Benton Fraser and Detective Ray... Vecchio."

His odd emphasis on the last name made Ray and Frase swap a fast, worried glance. How much did this man know? Fraser recovered first and took his outstretched hand cautiously.

"A pleasure to meet you, sir," Fraser said, his native Canadian politeness coming to the fore.

Archangel nodded and shook Fraser's hand gravely, then Ray's, as Mina's sobs began to quiet; she was still crying but at least the grief wasn't tearing her apart.

"I want to thank you both for taking care of Doctor MacLeod," Archangel said, calm and controlled once more. "For myself as well as... others." Again that strange, hidden emphasis came out on his last word, like there was far more he wanted to say and couldn't. His gaze flicked down and settled on Diefenbaker, who was watching Marina cry with his ears flat back and his posture tense and worried.

"I take it this is Diefenbaker?"

Everyone in the bullpen was riveted to the conversation and the 27th's crew all jumped. How much did this guy know?

Fraser cleared his throat and skimmed a knuckle over his eyebrow. "Yes, this is my companion, Diefenbaker."

"And he's a wolf?"

"Half wolf, actually," Fraser felt compelled to point out.

Archangel made sure he was looking right at Dief before he said, enunciating clearly, "Thank you, Diefenbaker. I'm grateful for what you've done for Marina."

Dief's ears flicked forward briefly and he rumbled an acknowledgement.

Ray ran a hand through his spikes. Christ, this guy knew Dief was deaf and read lips, for crying out loud, and he'd bet cash the guy knew he was Ray Kowalski, not Ray Vecchio, too. What the hell else did he know? What didn't he know? He apparently knew a helluva lot about Mina they didn't.

Mina sniffled through her tears.

"Is everyone on the planet getting a copy of the surveillance report on me?" she said tiredly, striving for humor through her tears.

Archangel started to pull the black silk handkerchief from his breast pocket but Fraser was quicker, and he slipped his white cotton one into Mina's hand so she could dry her sad, wet eyes.

"No, just me and the Professor," Archangel murmured, dropping his voice to carry no farther than Ray and Fraser. "And believe me, our mutual friend is going to get a call. I dislike the fact I've been getting edited reports." He put his hands on Mina's shoulders and held her back a little so he could look at her. "You look like shit," he said bluntly.

Ray and Fraser exchanged glances, both starting to bristle protectively, but Marina defused the situation with a tired laugh.

"I know," she replied simply, cocked her head at Michael and managed a wan smile. "But I've looked worse."

Archangel snorted, as if he might dispute the comment, but didn't pursue the subject.

"We need to talk, Mina," he said, his expression going serious. "I take it here's more going on here than a couple of jealous bitches trying to knife you in the back?" Archangel shot an angry glare around the silent bullpen and everyone watching jumped, and the noise level went back up to a loud babble of noise and chatter as suddenly everyone was visibly, determinedly busy.

Marina sighed and leaned her head against Michael for just a second more, drawing strength from the contact.

"There's more going on here than anyone but me knows," she confessed very softly, her voice a mere whisper.

"More than even you know," Archangel said cryptically, shooting Ray a meaningful glance. Mina's eyebrows drew together as she followed the look.

"I believe interview room number two is empty," Fraser offered politely, gesturing at the hall. "If you'd care to utilize it for your conference."

"Thank you, Constable," Archangel said, putting a hand under Mina's elbow and guiding her toward it. Diefenbaker rumbled warningly and followed, sticking so close to Mina's heels his fur brushed her leg. Archangel lifted an eyebrow but didn't protest the wolf's inviting himself along to their discussion.

"Both you Vecchios, in my office, now!" Welsh bellowed, glaring across the bullpen at Frannie, who dissolved into tears, staring beseechingly at Fraser. "You too, Constable!"

The woman in white made a quick gesture and grabbed Frannie's arm, hauling her to her feet. The two feds standing beside Frannie's desk peeled off and headed for Huey and Dewey, who bunched closer together as they approached.

Welsh shooed Fraser, Ray, Frannie and Stella back into his office. The white suited woman walked in calmly with her hand still holding Frannie firmly, and her flat, unfriendly stare dared Welsh to say something. He just grunted.

State's Attorney Rogers looked nothing but relieved as Welsh waved him off, but two more gray suited feds closed in on him immediately and Roger's face went terrified again as they bracketed him.

Welsh slammed his office door on the chaos in the bullpen, but to Ray's surprise he didn't start bellowing immediately.

"Special Agent Andrea Bryce, Central Intelligence Agency," Welsh snapped, gesturing at the strange woman. "Meet Detective Ray Vecchio and Constable Benton Fraser, R.C.M.P."

"You mean Detective Stanley Raymond Kowalski," Agent Bryce said shortly, shoving Frannie at Welsh's couch and grabbing Stella's arm, pushed her down beside Frannie. Bryce's lips twisted wryly at the five shocked stares they all pinned her with.

"We have no interest in the assignment that requires your presence in the 27th precinct, Detective Kowalski," Bryce informed them crisply, "that was merely to inform you the Agency is aware of the true situation here."

"What do you want, Agent Bryce?" Fraser asked directly, shifting into parade rest as he took up a position on the corner of Welsh's office where he could watch everyone at the same time.

Bryce leveled a direct stare at Fraser.

"These two little..." her lips twisted in scorn as she raked Frannie and Stella with a positively poisonous glare, "tramps have jeopardized an extremely valuable federal asset with their petty interference. We are here to minimize the negative exposure insofar as it is possible, given the fact the damage has already been done."

"You don't think you're overreacting a little, Agent Bryce?" Welsh grumbled, dropping into his desk chair with a muffled sigh.

"No, I don't," Agent Bryce said icily. "Former Agent MacLeod personally saved my life on two separate occasions at considerable risk to her own, and if I had anything to say about it, both you fucking bitches would be shoved down the deepest, darkest hole I could find and left there for the rest of your natural lives," she spat, her voice laced with increasing fury as she continued. "Do you know what you've done? How much work you've ruined? That you've put her life in jeopardy because of your stupid petty jealousy?"

Welsh, Ray and Fraser all stared, appalled at what Bryce was implying, and Frannie burst into tears again, burying her face in the wad of Kleenex in her hand. Stella's lips pressed together hard and she flicked a glance at Ray, looking for support; but the livid glare she got back made her shift her eyes away, knowing she was in for even more trouble there. Ray was furious, pushed past anger to pure incoherent rage.

Sobbing, Frannie choked out, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't know!" she wailed, her voice rising on the last word.

Stella rallied her wits and tried to defend her actions. "We had reason to suspect Doctor MacLeod was not a reliable expert in this case," she argued. "A more thorough background check was perfectly reasonable..."

"You had nothing." Bryce's mouth twisted with such contempt it was more of a blow than a slap across the face would have been. "The Agency built her civilian records personally. Every facet of it is completely legitimate and verifiable, right down to her professional credentials, which Doctor MacLeod earned entirely on her own, I might add. Any genuine attempt to ascertain the accuracy of those records would have been routed to the Agency for confirmation. You tried to run a covert check on her without authorization from either of your superiors for personal reasons, and don't you dare try to deny it."

"Why didn't she tell us all this?" Ray burst out. That one question had been plaguing him the entire time, eating at his guts. Didn't Mina trust them?

"She couldn't," Bryce answered, for once her expression puzzled, not angry, as she met Ray's eyes. "When Doctor MacLeod retired from federal service she signed over a dozen confidentiality and non-disclosure agreements. Technically, telling you anything about her past service would be an act of treason against the United States government."

Completely sideswiped, Ray snapped his mouth shut on the protest about to come out. Well, fuck...

"How much danger is Doctor MacLeod in, Agent Bryce?" Fraser asked; his eyes narrowed as he assessed Bryce's reaction.

"A certain... terrorist... group the Agency is aware of has targeted Doctor MacLeod and several of her relatives and friends for assassination," Bryce said guardedly, rigidly leashing the anger that was swelling up again.

Ray's gaze flicked up and his memory raced back to hearing Mina list her relatives, past and present, the night they watched the hockey game at her apartment.

"Are they the ones who killed Darius, Richie and Fitz?" Ray riposted, and had the satisfaction of seeing Bryce jerk in surprise.

Welsh stared hard at Ray, startled by the sudden specific question; and on the couch both Stella and Frannie gaped.

"We've confirmed they murdered Father Darius, yes," Bryce said, watching Ray narrowly to determine how much of this he already knew. "Richie's death was a... related incident, although not a direct action of the group. Fitzcairn's killing was, as far as we can tell, unrelated, although that is still under investigation."

Ray nodded, fitting this in with what he already knew as he chewed his lip. Shit, Marina, their Mina, targeted for death... and judging from her comment in the hallway, this group knew where she was now. Jesus H. Christ, he could kill Stella and Frannie for this.

"The computer search Ms. Vecchio and ADA Kowalski ran will undoubtedly allow them to track Doctor MacLeod's current location. What they do with the information is anyone's guess," Bryce snapped, looking like she wanted to spit on Frannie and Stella. "They may attempt to kill her immediately."

Frannie went white, feeling even more miserable as Fraser's face went bleak and Ray swore viciously. Welsh sat up straight in his desk chair, even his phlegmatic temperament rocked by this revelation; and his mouth set in a grim line.

Even Stella swallowed, nervously beginning to realize what a viper's nest she'd unleashed... and what kind of trouble she was really in.

But Ray noticed bitterly she wasn't feeling guilty about putting Mina's life in danger, Stella was just worried about the repercussions to her own life and career. God, when had his sweet Stella metamorphosed into this cold, self-centered bitch?

"Is she in any immediate danger?" Welsh growled. "I can assign a couple of uniforms for her protection."

"That's not my decision or yours," Bryce told him. "That will be Archangel's call." She refrained from sneering by the thinnest of margins. "And I trust you'll understand if we reserve the matter of Doctor MacLeod's further protection to the Agency. I'm afraid your department has demonstrated it's not to be trusted."

That verbal slap didn't sit well with the Lieutenant, but Welsh knew his own people had earned it for him, so he took it as deserved.

"Will you relocate her?" Ray interrupted, anger making him abrupt. Losing Mina, now, so soon after they became lovers... Ray didn't want to think about how much that would hurt. How much it would devastate him and Fraser.

Bryce sighed, shrugging her lack of knowledge as to the answer to that. "I imagine she and Archangel are discussing that right now, Detective Kowalski. What they decide... your guess is as good as mine."

"So what happens now," Welsh interposed. "As regards Ms. Vecchio and Ms. Kowalski?"

"As your employee, Ms. Vecchio's disciplinary action is up to you, Lieutenant Welsh." Agent Bryce's smile at Frannie bared her eyeteeth and was positively vicious. "What do you usually do to one of your people who sabotages a federal operation and deliberately places an innocent person in danger of assassination out of personal spite?"

Frannie whimpered.

"My staff doesn't usually do that, Agent Bryce," Welsh growled. He'd like to say more but there was no denying this massive screw up happened in his station, on his watch; and Harding Welsh didn't dodge responsibility.

"As for Assistant District Attorney Kowalski," Bryce leaned back against the office door and studied Stella. "As we've established this rather egregious error was primarily her idea, her dispensation remains to be seen. Again, that will be Archangel's decision." Bryce's razor-edged, humorless smile made a reappearance. "If it was up to me you'd never see daylight again, bitch."

"We done?" Ray snapped, jittering on his heels. All of a sudden Welsh's office was too tiny and he was too wound up and more than anything Ray wanted to move, fast, anywhere where he didn't have to look at Frannie and Stella. Hell, right now Bryce's plan didn't sound half bad, and that was freaking him out nearly as hard as finding out Marina was a retired fed. Stella's love for him flipped around to hate long ago, when had his love for her done the same? It was freaking Ray out badly to realize after most of his lifetime, Stella had no hold over him anymore. The polarity of his universe had shifted radically and he was off-balance bad.

Bryce shrugged. "That's all the information I'm authorized to give you, yes. As you and Constable Fraser are not at fault in this situation, you're free to return to your current investigation."

"Yeah, right," Ray muttered, "that okay with you, Lieu?"

Welsh nodded. "I'd like to think someone around here was actually doing the job they're paid for." He fixed an angry glare at Frannie. "You and I are going to have a very long talk, Ms. Vecchio."

Ray started to push open the door when Frannie jumped up and hurried over to Fraser, her face blotchy and her nose red and swollen.

"Look, Fraser, I'm really sorry..." Frannie reached out for his arm and Fraser recoiled like her touch was poison.

"I have nothing to say to you, Ms. Vecchio," Fraser told her, as cold and icily remote as one of his glaciers. "And I certainly have no wish to hear anything you have to say." Frannie flinched like she'd been struck while Fraser regarded her as if he'd never really seen her before, and didn't like what he saw now.

"Your brother would be ashamed of you," Fraser said harshly, then turned away and tipped his hat with excruciating politeness to Bryce. "I wish we had met under better circumstances, Agent Bryce."

Some of the anger fell off Bryce's face. "That makes two of us, Constable," she replied, and crooked a finger at Stella. "Move it, bitch," she said shortly. "Unless you want to give me an excuse to use force. Which, by the way, I would love."

Stella rose to her feet haughtily after looking around for support and finding none. Ray was already out the door and Fraser was right behind him.

Welsh closed the door behind them and turned to Frannie.

"All right, Ms. Vecchio," Welsh said, permitting his anger to show for the first time since federal agents invaded his precinct that morning. "It's time for you to tell me just what the hell you were thinking, pulling a stunt like this?" he bellowed.

Staring through the window shade slats at Fraser's departing back, Frannie began to cry again.

* * *

Once they were clear of the bullpen, Fraser grabbed Ray's arm and bolted for the basement stairs.

"Quickly, Ray," he said urgently.

Ray stared in confusion but followed Fraser down the stairs, shoving impatiently past anyone in the way. Fraser bolted down the past the morgue and ducked into the men's room.

"Jeez, Frase," Ray muttered, "when ya gotta go, ya gotta go, but do ya think this is th' best..."

Fraser breathed a sigh of relief the bathroom was empty, shoved the door closed and pulling his knife, flicked the blade open and promptly jammed the latch shut. Ray stared at him, baffled.

"Frase, buddy, what th' heck are ya..."

"Quiet, Ray!" Fraser darted over to a large exposed plastic pipe running along the wall and ran his hands along the L-joint, then with a quick tug, pulled it loose.

Ray stared, amazed, as peals of laughter drifted up through the now-open pipe and moving quietly he joined Fraser, leaning over the opening and listening.

* * *

Twenty minutes earlier.

Archangel pushed the door to interview room two open and guided Marina through. Diefenbaker trotted in and as Marina sank down in one of the battered chairs he whined and heaved up, plunking his paws on the table and licking Mina's cheek reassuringly.

She breathed out a sigh of relief and buried her face in his ruff as Archangel gave the room a quick, thorough sweep for bugs.

"It's clean, and it's not security-mirrored so we can talk," Archangel said, sinking down in the other chair and leaning his cane up against the rickety table. "God, Mina, what the hell happened to you? You look like death warmed over."

Marina breathed out a soft huff of laughter. "What, I'm a perfect size four for the first time in my life. You have to pay big bucks for this kind of figure at a health spa."

Archangel reached out and took her hand, cradling it in his warm ones, and spanned her thin wrist with two fingers easily. "Mina, you look like you just escaped from a prison camp. How much weight have you lost? Thirty pounds? Forty? You didn't have it to lose in the first place."

She let her breath out slowly, twining her fingers through Michael's, drawing immeasurable comfort from his nearness. "Thirty-six. I'm down to a hundred and nine."

Archangel was appalled. "Christ, how can you still swing a sword?"

"I practice every day. I've lost a little muscle mass but not much. I just don't have any body fat." She shrugged. "Not like I can die of starvation, Michael."

"Yes, you can," he snapped, angry at her cavalier attitude. "The fact you don't stay dead doesn't change anything." The brief flash of anger transmuted into sharp-edged concern. "Why didn't Joe tell us you were taking this so badly?"

Marina shrugged. "To tell the truth, I only asked him to... edit the reports he was giving Duncan, Methos and Connor. I didn't know he was sending copies to you and the Professor until now." Her gaze softened. "How is everyone at the B.P.R.D.? I miss Hellboy and Abe something fierce."

"They're all fine," Michael assured her. "Both Professor Bruttenholm and I wanted to keep an eye on you after you retired, but since we knew Joe Dawson and the Watchers were doing it already, it seemed redundant to assign a second or third surveillance team to you. Joe forwarded us your Watcher's reports and in exchange we both helped keep any news about Immortals out of the press and the other intelligence communities. It was a win-win for everyone... or so I thought."

Archangel cleared his throat and his one blue eye was shiny with moisture. "We've been friends for decades, Mina. It hurts to look at you like this."

"Oh, Michael," Mina said and leaned over the table, resting her forehead against Archangel's. "I'll get through this, Michael, I will. I promise. I've just... never been alone before. Not like this. What I had with Duncan and Methos... it was so new, so strong... I didn't know it was going to hurt so much to be away from them."

Archangel had no reply for that but held her hands gently, offering what comfort he could.

After a few minutes he asked quietly, "What's going on here, Mina? How did you get involved with the CPD, Constable Fraser and Detective Vecchio? I've been getting monthly reports on you, the last one was three weeks ago and it didn't say anything about all this."

Mina blew out another tired breath and organized her thoughts. "I got called in by the Chicago PD to help identify an antique sword found jammed into a headless, mutilated corpse," she explained. "They needed an expert on ancient weapons and I just happen to be one. When I examined the blade, I realized it was an incredibly old, unusual saber. So old and unusual that coupled with a headless corpse it got me suspicious, so I called Joe and had him start checking into it. Turned out to belong to one of us." A wryly-ironic grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Turned out to belong to Saladin... and I think the rogue Watchers have targeted him for takedown, and they're operating here in Chicago."

Archangel's hands clamped down on hers. "Hell's bells, Mina! Are we talking about the Saladin? The legendary Arab general? He's an Immortal?"

Mina nodded. "Fortunately, not an evil one. Or at least not entirely evil... one of the neutrals, really. He was actually one of Darius' students back in the 12th century."

She bit her lip, still baffled by so many aspects of the case. "As the investigation progressed, the whole murder just kept making less and less sense. The murder victim was already dead before his corpse was dismembered, and as far as we can tell, the saber was planted on the corpse to frame Saladin. The saber wasn't the murder weapon, but it was used to dismember the body so it could be found. When I got a good look at the body -or what was left of it- I found a Watcher's tattoo on the wrist. Joe confirmed the body had to be Mitchell Dalton, Saladin's Watcher. He went missing in Argentina, which is where Saladin's been based for the last twenty years. How he and Saladin got to Chicago is anybody's guess."

"Jesus, Mina."

Diefenbaker rumbled and laid his head on her knee. Mina slid one hand loose and stroked his ears reassuringly.

"It gets weirder. A surveillance photo from a security camera at the site where the body was dumped showed Saladin walking in with his sword, but there was no corresponding photo of him leaving. The security setup was pretty minimal, so he could have bypassed the cameras on the way out, but..."

"Too many loose ends," Archangel mused, mulling it over. "Too many inconsistencies. How much does the CPD know?"

Still not pleased with the way she'd reacted to the surveillance photo of Saladin, Mina tried to keep the self-disgust out of her tone. "When Ray and Ben showed me the photo, I was... off guard, Michael. Fraser and Ray are damn good detectives, both of them; they saw I recognized him. Joe forwarded me Saladin's complete Watcher file, so I managed to pull the information on his current identity and give it to them without letting them see the rest of his Watcher file. The CPD's been running checks to see if Saladin's using his current identity anywhere here in the city."

"Any sightings?"

"No, but Diefenbaker and I took Airwolf out Saturday night and ran an aerial search on the city. I felt another Immortal, Michael. I tagged the location and was going to check it out today but... Ray got the phone call from Welsh this morning hauling us all in here." She shrugged again. "You know the rest."

Michael chuckled. "I still can't believe String and Sinjin gave you Airwolf when they retired. I can't believe you kept it when you retired. I thought I was finally going to get that overpriced piece of hardware back."

Mina squeezed his fingers in playful jest. "It was never you String didn't trust, Michael. It was the government."

"Says you," Michael replied dryly, unconvinced.

"Besides, I just love Airwolf, Michael." She ruffled Dief's ears fondly. "So does Diefenbaker, actually. The Lady's not just a piece of hardware, she's a friend."

Michael sobered. "Yes, about your new friends... how well do you know them, Mina?"

Marina cocked her head at him, remembering his odd comment back in the bullpen. "What do you mean?"

"When the search for information on you started popping red flags all over the law enforcement 'net and we tracked down where the searches were coming from, I ran a complete security check on everyone here at the 27th precinct. Detective Vecchio and Constable Fraser..." Michael searched for a way to cushion the blow. "They haven't been entirely honest with you, Mina."

Marina tensed and Diefenbaker tensed with her. "What do you mean, Michael?"

"I mean that's not the real Raymond Vecchio."

"What?"

"The blond man you know as Raymond Vecchio is actually Detective First Class Stanley Raymond Kowalski, an undercover operative with the Chicago PD. He's masquerading as Ray Vecchio while the real Ray Vecchio is undercover on an organized crime sting in Las Vegas."

Marina sagged back in her chair, thrown for a complete loop by this unexpected revelation. "What?"

Michael reached out and touched her cheek reassuringly. "He's undercover, Mina. You know what that means."

"Yeah, but... gods above and below, Michael, I'm sleeping with Ray! And Fraser! It's kind of a shock!" The humor of the name struck her. "Wait a minute. Ray's name is Stanley Kowalski? And his ex-wife is Stella Kowalski?" A hiccupping laugh escaped her lips.

"Yup," Michael confirmed, his eye twinkling.

Mina couldn't help it- she burst out laughing. "Jeez, no wonder he wanted to go undercover! That's awful."

"It's cruelties like that which make me think vigilante justice isn't such a bad idea. Doing that to a child is criminal," Michael managed to get out before laughter got the better of him too.

* * *

In the bathroom below, leaning over the pipe Fraser had just pried open, Ray and Fraser exchanged baffled glances. What could have Marina and Archangel laughing like that?

* * *

The laughter was a good tension-breaker, and when the chuckling died down both Michael and Marina felt better.

"So what happens now?" she asked.

Archangel sobered. "I don't know, Mina. Can I get you to leave? I'll pull the CPD off the investigation and make it an Agency operation. Hell, you can even lead it if you really want, I'll reactivate your agent status temporarily and assign you a team. But I don't like leaving you here alone. You must know you'd be just as tempting a target to the rogues as Saladin is. Maybe even more so."

Marina shook her head. "I'm not leaving, Michael. You know interference with one of us by mortals is forbidden... and if Saladin's innocent I have to protect him. I owe Darius that much. And if the ones who killed Mitchell Dalton are the ones who murdered Darius... if they're here, I will track them down and kill them, Michael. Every last one. Not one will escape my vengeance for what they've done. If there was any one of us fit to be the One, it was Darius."

Archangel merely sighed. "I rather thought you'd say that, my dear. Just try and keep it quiet? We have to keep this out of the press. We can't risk this kind of exposure, not with the international climate as fragile as it is. And call me if you need help covering it up?"

"That I'll do."

"If Saladin is the murderer?"

"Then I'll take his head personally, Michael. You have my word on that."

"Just don't let him take your head," Archangel said wryly, leaning across the table and kissing her forehead. "I'm attached to it right where it is."

"So'm I, recent evidence to the contrary notwithstanding," she said, just as wry but leaning into the kiss. She missed being the recipient of casual affection so much.

"What are you going to tell Kowalski and Fraser?"

Marina sank back into her chair, suddenly unutterably weary. "Oh, hell, Michael, I don't know. They knew I worked for the feds before, but they didn't know I was one. As for telling them what I am... they've known me two weeks! How do I drop something that huge on them? Not to mention by now they know someone's trying to kill me... and I wouldn't be surprised if they've figured out this murder investigation is related. They're really good, Michael. Best team I've ever worked with... and that's saying something."

Archangel pursued his lips, surprised. "That is saying something." Marina had worked with the best, for a while had been one of the best. She didn't give such compliments lightly. He tabled the thought for later. "Is there anything I can do to help, Mina?" he asked gently.

"You've done more than enough, dearest," she reassured him, the affection she felt for her old friend's staunch support warming her heart. "There's nothing to do now but try and sort this whole mess out. There is one thing."

"Name it."

"Get one of the Agency hackers to put a tag on any computers those two idiot twits have access to. If they start messing around again..."

"Already done," Michael told her. "Are you sure you don't want me to do anything... more?"

"Don't tempt me," she muttered. "The one advantage I had over the rogue Watchers was they didn't know I was in Chicago. That's blown to hell and gone. Not to mention I'll bet anything there's a termination order with my name on it going out right now." A wicked smile danced over her features. "Michael?"

Archangel's eyebrow went up. He knew that look of devilish glee. "Yes?"

"You still have some pull over at the IRS?"

"I do." Archangel's answering smile was pure malice.

"You know, I've never met a lawyer who didn't cheat on their taxes... maybe a certain ADA's name could go to the top of the audit list? With a 'maximum suspicion of fraud' tag attached...?"

Archangel laughed. "It would keep that bitch too busy to harass you. What about the little brunette idiot?"

Mina made a rude noise. "Frannie? That moron? I don't know, I can't think down to that level. Got any suggestions?"

Archangel thought it over. "I'll have a word with Lieutenant Welsh. I'm sure he can come up with some... suitably absorbing task to keep Ms. Vecchio's attention on her work. If he hasn't already."

"Whatever." Marina shrugged, dismissing Frannie from her mind. "I'm just glad she's not really Ray's sister. I don't feel obliged to be nice to her anymore, jealous little bitch. Just throw a good scare into both those two idiots, will you, Michael? I don't want to have to keep checking for a knife buried in my back... I'm gonna haveta keep my eyes peeled for a bullet aimed at my head."

"Done."

"One last request?"

Her look was so wistful Michael knew just what she wanted and stood up.

"Come here, darling," he said, drawing Marina to her feet and enfolding her in his arms, stroking her shoulders and pressing a kiss on her forehead. "It won't last forever," Michael murmured, feeling Mina cling to him, soaking up the security of being in a friend's embrace again.

"I love you, Michael," she whispered.

"I love you too, my bonnie highland lassie," Michael murmured, holding her tight.

* * *

One floor down, Fraser and Ray exchanged stunned stares, wondering what in hell it all meant.

* * *