A little extra

Jason chuckles and shakes his head. "I don't mind. Keep working in here and maybe we'll finally get to share an office yet."

Trooper had been brought in by Ryder, and he gives a groan as he stretches then wanders over to Katie, resting his head on the table beside her paperwork. Sniffing a little, he inches his head closer to her hand very nonchalantly before swiftly taking the pencil from her hand and looking at her as if daring her to take it from his slobbery mouth.

Jason grins. "Apparently, he wouldn't mind your company either."


Sparky lies there dumbly as Faith take the Bible from him. He really wasn't all that sure what he'd been trying to do anyway. It had seemed a good idea at the time... whatever it had been.

Shifting to lie on his side, he tucks one arm under his pillow, the other under the blanket, following orders though he felt oh, so hot. His eyes start to drift shut, but as Faith begins to read, his eyelids flutter and he watches her. The verses seemed to calm him and his breathing quiets as he listens to the words. His eyes kept trying to shut, but he would force them open again, just watching Faith as if were he to lose sight of her, the reading might stop.

Eventually, sleep would come, but it was a much deeper sleep, brought on by the raging fever. During the night, his temperature rises dangerously, requiring Angel's care as well as Faith's. Though opening his eyes and mumbling responses, he would not remember much about the next two days. While Jade was able to be up and about again, Sparky was far worse, enough so that the question of taking him to the hospital came up. Thankfully though, with patience and Angel's skill, he was stabilized, enough so that they continued his care in the bunkhouse. Sometime during the third night his fever finally broke.

The sun was just starting to rise, sending streams of dim light through the cracks in the blinds. Sparky stirs, feeling as though he'd been run over by a truck. From his back, he rolls onto his side, only to find himself in a mild but painful coughing fit. Once he regains control, he blinks, opening his eyes for the first time in a day. He didn't feel hot though and he knew immediately that he didn't have a fever.

Trying to regain a bit of his senses to figure out just where why and when he was, his eyes land on his bedside clock. The date was clearly shown and he's surprised to find out that several days have passed. All he knew was that he'd been sick. "Dang..." His voice is hoarse and raspy, and he looks around again, realizing that Faith was there as well. Why was she there, and how long had she been there? His eyes catch hers and he just studies her for several moments before speaking again. "And to what do I owe this early morning visit?"


Gunner hangs up his phone, giving a weary sigh. JT had still gotten nowhere. During the last several days, they had put together enough clues to figure out that the whole thing with Bree had to do with money that was supposed to go to her, but that's as far as they'd gotten. Every single avenue ended in a closed door. Even JT's lawyer friend couldn't get through as many layers as there were to find out the truth. And without the truth, there was no proof of foul play. And with no proof, there was no way to get Bree out of Crescentview.

It was getting late. Some people were heading home for the day. Gunner glances at the clock. He himself had done as much digging as he could, but JT had been right - Crescentview had tight security. Gunner couldn't get much farther than finding out how many people were employed there and that there were only a few short windows during a week that visitors were allowed - but even then, it was only to particular patients. He had respected JT's wishes to wait, be patient and do quiet research so as not to draw attention. But by now, Gunner could barely stand it any longer. He hadn't been able to dig up the information they wanted - he just wasn't good enough with that, with limited time and skill in that area.

Making up his mind, Gunner gets up and heads towards the hall. Making sure no one else was around, he slips into Scott and Dalton's office, glad they were still there. Leaning down on the desk, he stares both men in the eye. "I need your help."

Scott quirks an eyebrow and gives Dalton a sidelong glance before looking back at Gunner. "What's up?"

"I've got a friend in trouble... she's being held in a mental hospital and I need help getting her out."

Scott blinks. "Is this an Elite case? I haven't heard anything about-"

"No, it's not," Gunner states flatly. "It would probably be best if Reese didn't even know. If you two don't want that, then fine... but if you're willing to help quietly... I'll tell you what I need."

Scott purses his lips, thinking. He looks at Dalton again, then at the clock. It was just after five. "We're off the clock," he reasons. "What do you say?"


Gage's usually quiet walk is replaced by a forceful pace as he heads up to his apartment. He'd been trying so hard... he really had. Ever since he'd found out what kind of people the Agency really was, and ever since he'd realized the difference between right and wrong, he'd been trying to change. But sometimes... sometimes it was just too much.

Scowling as he unlocks his door, he shuts it behind him, using all the restraint he had not to slam it. Locking it again, he stands quietly for a moment, seething. Breaking out with a cry of frustration, he hurls his keys across his apartment, sending them smacking into the wall, creating a nick in the drywall.

Settling down a little, Gage wanders to his air mattress and sinks down, leaning back against the wall. Sapphire would be here any minute. They were going to go out and grab something for supper. And now he'd have to explain why he had a split lip. More than that, why he had blood on his shirt and it wasn't even his own blood. Maybe he'd just tell Sapphire that they would go eat tomorrow night instead.

Miserable, he glares at the Christmas tree in the corner. But looking at it, he remembered the fun he'd had with Sapphire... the stories she'd told him... the good feeling of creating something that looked nice. Eventually, he reaches down to the extension cord and plugs it in. The blue lights of the tree made the dark little apartment glow, the white star reflecting off the ceiling.

Gage sighs deeply and puts a hand to his tender lip. It hadn't been a bad enough hit to make another scar. But he'd been trained to fight... trained to torture. He might have had a sudden turn-around in his life after realizing who the Agency was, but he'd still been raised by them... taught by them. Everything he did and thought was influenced by their training. And today had been the first time he hadn't been able to resist it. Up until this point, he'd had no real opposition. He'd had no real reason to get upset or to fight. He'd been given a new chance and though living here wasn't the greatest, it was better than a sterile Agency room. But being provoked today, he just hadn't been strong enough to keep himself from doing what he did best. For the first time, his old self had come through, and he wasn't sure what to do with it.


Ryder flips through the mail, thumbing over some bills and junk mail. Seeing a handwritten envelope addressed to him, he pauses, throwing the rest of the stack on the table. The return address was Texas, and he recognized the writing.

Cocking his head, he peers into the living room to make sure Thirteen was still in there. They'd both had the day off and had been running errands all day. Now she was settled folding laundry at the couch and it was just as well that Ryder tore into the envelope while he was alone. There was a letter and a check, but it was more than expected this time.

Ryder,
Here's my check for the month. I wrote in a little extra this time for something special for Jasmine. Please make sure she has a nice Christmas.
-Trent

Ryder looks at the check and sighs a little. It was so obvious that Trent cared about his daughter, but he was too stubborn to tell her. Folding the check and slipping it into his back pocket, Ryder wandered into the living room, coming up behind the couch. Reaching down and over Thirteen's shoulder, he picks up a sock, draping it over her ear. "Hey, you."

He leans down closer so his face was next to hers. "We're gonna go have supper tonight wherever you want. Then afterward we're gonna do whatever you want to do. You name it."