"You're NOT going to hold him? But.... you've got two eye witnesses, and I've told you how dangerous he is...." Ray Peterson gripped his cell phone so tightly that he thought for a moment that he might crack it.

"Peterson, when you turned in your badge and your gun, you also turned in any right you might have had to question what goes on in *my* precinct. The D.A. decided that your eyewitnesses have about as much credibility as wet paper. So your man will be brought before the judge in the morning and the charges'll be dismissed. Is that clear?" Lt. Quinn barked.

Ray sighed. The lieutenant had never much liked him, and now he felt that Ray's insistence on the dangers posed by the new species was giving the department a bad name (as if it could get any worse). The former detective tried again. "Lt. Quinn, I just..." But he was cut off abruptly by the sound of the telephone receiver being slammed down.

After looking at the phone blankly for a moment, Ray cut off the buzz of the dial tone and placed another call. A quiet voice answered with a single word, "Attwood."

"Dr. Attwood, it's Peterson."

"What do you have for me, Ray?" Peterson could detect a slight lift to the voice, and sensed quickening interest on the scientist's part. He was sorry to burst his bubble.

"I'm sorry, Doctor. My contacts at the precinct say that they don't have enough to hold Lewis past tomorrow morning. He'll be out then."

"Not even with Tom and Sloan's testimony?" Attwood made humming sounds as Ray explained that the D.A. did not have much faith in Tom and Sloan's credibility. "Well, we'll just have to catch him on something that *will* stick, won't we? I think we should meet tomorrow morning here at the lab. 9:00 a.m. sharp." After Ray agreed, Attwood spoke again, concern in his voice. "Try to get some rest, Ray. You sound tired, and we all need to be fresh in the morning. Good night."

This time when he heard the buzz of the dial tone, Ray really did look at his phone in pure amazement. The contrast between talking to his old and new boss was startling. He grinned as he put the phone away. At least he might be able to avoid sore ears in the future.

Walter Attwood stared at the telephone for a moment after hanging up with Ray Peterson. He decided against calling his "boss", deciding to leave her out of the loop on this item, as well. He and his team would be able to handle this.

Walter moved out of his office and toward the main lab, heading over to where a strong lamp burned over a solitary dissection table. His young collegue, Dr. Ed Tate, bent over the slight form of James, the lab monkey that had been infected with a more concentrated form of the enzymes from the deer tick implanted in Kelly Hammond by the New Species to alter her DNA makeup. James, too, had his DNA altered by 1.6%, and had also displayed aggressive behavior, killing the other monkeys in his cage.

"Found anything to explain how they alter the DNA, Ed?" Attwood asked.

"Hi, Walter. No, I haven't gotten that far, yet. But I found something interesting in James' brain chemistry. Look here." Ed turned to a PC on a nearby table, and punched up the chemical scan he'd done.

Walter whistled soundlessly. "My God. If you'd pumped that much adrenalin into a man....."

"He'd act like Lynch. That's right." Ed stated flatly. As Walter straightened to his full height, he and Ed exchanged concerned glances. Ed became even more concerned when his superior told him about Ray Peterson's news.

"I thought I'd call Sloan, and ask her to round up Tom in the morning and bring him here to the lab for a meeting with the rest of us. We've got to discuss developments, and how we're going to handle them."

"Let me tell Sloan, Walter. I've done about as much as I can here, tonight. I'll see you in the morning."

"Yes, that's fine, Ed." Walter watched as the younger man stowed the monkey's body, stripped off his gloves and lab coat, and strode out of the lab.

Sloan was at her kitchen counter, pouring coffee for herself and Tom when the buzzer went off, announcing someone in the lower lobby. "I'll see who's there," Tom offered, and was at the door before Sloan even raised her head.

"It's Ed," Tom announced. He buzzed Ed through the inner doors and opened the apartment door as the young doctor came bounding up the stairs. Sloan joined Tom at the door, and was in time to see Ed scowl slightly at the sight of the other man, before he caught saw Sloan and his brow cleared.

"Hi, Ed, come on in," Sloan invited her old friend. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Yeah, I could use some, thanks. I was working on James' autopsy, and found anomalies in his brain chemistry that would have driven a grown man crazy, let alone a monkey James' size."

"And you think those elevated levels came from the tick, too?" Sloan asked

"I couldn't find any other reason for them."

"What reaction would these anomalies cause in a human being?" Tom asked, his keen gray gaze moving between Sloan and Ed.

"At those levels, it could drive him to rape and kill, repeatedly," Ed stated grimly.

"Like Lynch," said Sloan, realizing the gravity of the news. "But Kelly didn't display any aggressive tendencies, did she, Ed?"

"That's just it, Sloan. Now that I look back on it, Kelly *was* acting very strange. But I passed it off as nerves - I thought she must just be anxious about what was happening to her, especially since she'd never really gotten over what happened to her in the cave. I didn't think that one incident....." Ed broke off and dropped into an easy chair, his coffee forgotten as he buried his head in his hands.

Sloan shared a concerned glance with Tom and went to kneel in front of Ed's chair. "What one incident, Ed?" she asked softly, putting a hand on his knee.

"She came on to me, almost taunted me with the suggestion that I'd wanted to jump her from the very beginning - then she tried to kiss me. When I fended her off, she became enraged, and tried to slap and kick me. Then she almost collapsed, crying, and I figured it was just nerves. How could I be so stupid?"

Ed had jumped to his feet and stood with his back to the others. Despite her real sympathy for Ed and his feelings, Sloan found herself biting her lips to keep from smiling, and dared not look at Tom. She hoped that his new-found sense of humor would not choose this time to come to the fore, even though the thought of the normally very masculine Ed Tate acting the part of the outraged maiden appealed directly to her own highly developed sense of the ridiculous.

When she risked a glance over at him, Tom appeared to be fascinated by an in-depth study of his coffee, so Sloan was able to bring her own face under control and go to Ed, patting his back and making soothing sounds. When Ed had turned around to face Sloan and Tom again, he told them about Ray's call, telling Attwood that the police would not be holding Lewis beyond the next morning. "Walter wants to meet with all of us tomorrow in the lab, with Ray," Ed told the other two. "He thinks we should discuss what our next move will be."

"He's right," Tom said, speaking for almost the first time since Ed had entered the apartment. He had been deep in thought when he heard the important pieces of news from the young scientist. "We need to think about what Lewis' next move might be." His piercing eyes settled on Sloan's face, which had gone rather pale when she heard that Lewis would soon be out of jail. "Sloan, you look tired. We should go, let you get some rest."

Sloan rather badly wanted to talk to Tom alone, but she knew that Ed would never leave the apartment with the other man still in it. So, she agreed, herding Ed out of the door along with Tom.

When the two men were gone, Sloan turned back to her small kitchen and pouring herself more coffee. She reflected that Ed's rather surprising show of jealousy was rather ill-timed since it could interfere with all their efforts to deal with the New Species.

Sloan had not considered before that Ed might have romantic feelings for her. She hoped not, because Ed was her best friend, yet the warm feelings she felt for Ed were nothing like the confused combination of joy, fear, sympathy, respect, and just plain eagerness with which she was flooded whenever she was with Tom. Sloan smiled into her coffee mug as she remembered her surprise over the discovery of Tom's sense of humor, and the fun that both she and Tom had been having with it ever since. The punch line of the first joke she'd told him, "but don't stop looking, I'll send you a check," had already become something of a code phrase between them. Sloan had never paid much attention to jokes before, but now she found herself trying hard to remember them so she could tell Tom, and see that rare but wonderful smile come across his face.

Earlier that evening, when they'd left Dr. Attwood and the police to deal with Lewis, Sloan had remembered a particularly silly joke she'd heard, and, right in the middle of a conversation they were having about whether Tom should be checking out the streets for possible movements by the New Species, she'd blurted out: "Hey, Tom, have you heard the one about the farmer's daughter and the travelling salesman?"

This had caused an exaggerated groan from her victim. "Sloan, I haven't been living in the jungle. *Of course* I've heard the one about the farmer's daughter and the travelling salesman!"

"No, not this one! I heard this one just today...." and Sloan had launched into a new version of the old chestnut. Despite his efforts to remain poker-faced, Sloan could see the twinkle in the clear grey eyes that showed his enjoyment of her efforts, and his reluctant but hearty laugh when she delivered the rather lame punch line had been her reward for taking both their minds off their troubles with the New Species, at least for a time.

Now, in her shadowed kitchen, Sloan smiled again and was doubly grateful that she could take Tom's mind off of his troubles for a time. They had all come back tonight, with a vengence. She sighed and, picking up her coffee, headed for her bed.

Sloan Parker was to wish for the respite of a new joke, however lame, to lighten the atmosphere around the lab in the next few weeks. Everyone was on edge as the search for Lewis began anew.

Sloan and Tom had been canvassing real estate offices once again, attempting to find large properties in the greater LA area that had been rented with a large cash advance. Although they had not gotten any positive answers to their inquiries, Tom had felt real fear coming from one young woman they had questioned in a rather remote area in the hills outside of the city. He and Sloan were sitting in his car on the street across from the strip mall where the real estate office was located, waiting to see what the agent would do now that they'd left.

"I'm betting that Lewis has intimidated her into reporting to him if someone comes around asking questions," Tom told Sloan. As he glanced over at her, he saw her remove her sunglasses and rub her eyes. They looked a little red, strained. "You look tired, Sloan," he said.

Sloan would have made a smart remark about not throwing around such compliments, but Tom had paired his remark with a gentle hand cupping her jaw and a look of concern that froze the remark on her lips. She raised her own hand and put it over Tom's, rubbing his hand against her cheek for a moment. "I'm fine Tom, really. It's a bit of a strain, with Lewis on the loose and having to start back at square one looking for him. But I feel like we're getting closer."

Tom's other hand came up and gently cradled the other side of her face. "Sloan, I'm so sorry that you're caught up in this. When Lewis had you, when I thought he might hurt you, I..." Tom's voice had trailed off - the emotion he felt was too new and too strong for him to express in words. As he bent to kiss her, Sloan's eyes began to slide shut. However, she caught movement out of the corner of one of them. Quickly, she laid her free hand on Tom's chest, staying him for just one moment. She pointed silently across the street, where the young real estate agent whose fear Tom had read now was scurrying toward her car.

Tom started the engine, getting ready to follow the woman's car as she pulled out. Sloan was a bit shaken by his sudden change in mood. His eyes had narrowed, and he was like a hunting dog who had caught the scent it was seeking. "What if she isn't going to Lewis?" She asked, her voice a bit shaky.

Tom cast a glance her way and felt the combination of emotions within her; fading desire and frustration, nervousness of Tom's own reaction to her ending the kiss, fear overall of Lewis and what his next move might be. He laid one hand over both of hers, which were clenched in her lap. "It's all right, Sloan. I can feel her fear - I'm sure she's going to see Lewis. And I know how you're feeling, too. Don't worry - we'll have plenty of time for that, soon. You know I'd never hurt you, don't you Sloan?" Sloan nodded as she saw the sincerity in his clear gaze. Tom gave her hands a final squeeze and returned his attention to the dusty car ahead.

They soon found out why the real estate agent's car was so dusty. She had driven quite a distance from the little town where her office was located, until she turned down a dirt road. As traffic had lessened, Tom had dropped back further in his pursuit, and he and Sloan barely saw the woman making the turn down the country road. Luckily, as she proceeded down the dirt road, the agent's car kicked up so much dust that it was doubtful she could see the pursuing car. When she reached a rutted and overgrown drive guarded by a rusty mailbox, she turned once again, not bothering to check behind her.

Tom halted his car well down the road from the driveway. Sloan had turned to look at him questioningly, but she understood when a truck bearing the familiar logo of the U. S. Postal Service came driving up from behind them. It stopped at the mailbox, and a small bundle of mail was deposited.

When the truck disappeared, Tom was out of the car like a shot and Sloan could see him remove the mail, shuffle through its contents, then return it to the box. He had a satisfied look on his face as he returned to her side. "It's Lewis, all right. He's using an alias he had when I first went to him for training."

Tom started the car, and Sloan braced herself for the coming confrontation with Lewis, but to her amazement, Tom executed a quick three-point turn and sent the car back the way they had come.

"Tom, aren't we going to......."

"Confront Lewis? Where has that gotten us the last few times we've tried it? No, Sloan, we're going to go back to the lab and get everyone to think of a way to really get Lewis this time. We've got to get him off the street for good, so he can't train any more assassins."

The group had gathered in Ed Tate's office, which was now littered with pizza boxes. Ed happily munched through a pineapple pizza, which Ray Peterson had stared at with frank amazement. He and Walter Attwood shared more traditional fare, enjoying sausage and green peppers. Tom and Sloan had opted for cheese and spinach, but both had really been too nervous to do more than nibble. Tom concentrated more on his large Coke, which he now drained before he spoke.

"So, we're agreed that confronting Lewis at his new base would be futile?" he asked the group at large.

"You're right about that, Tom. We could never sneak up on Lewis - he'd know we were there long before we got anywhere near the house. Besides, it does no good to challenge him in his own element. If only we could think of a way to draw him here." Walter Attwood had listened to Tom's arguements, and now summarized them with his logical scientist's mind.

Sloan's brow had knitted when Walter mentioned drawing Lewis out, but now it cleared as an idea formed in her mind. "I think I know how we can do it. Tom, we know how proud Lewis is, even though he may deny he has human emotions. He kidnapped me right out of a caravan of Federal Agents and drew you to his other hideout, just to show you he could do it. He killed Lisa and made us outlaws to further some *grand* scheme he's hiding to himself while he toys with us. If we can get him riled up enough, I think he'll show himself here. He won't be able to resist!" Sloan ended triumphantly.

The men had been looking at her in astonishment, but Ed finally broke the ice by nodding thoughtfully. "You know, it just might work. We'd have to really stir him up, though. And how would we get the message to him? If we go anywhere near the house, he'll hold us prisoner, for sure. And he's not going to listen if we call him on the phone."

"We write to him. We know he gets mail delivered. We can go to his place and drop the note in his box before he picks the mail up. You're good at delivering verbal jabs, Ed. Think you can insult Lewis subtly enough to bring him out here?" Sloan asked her friend.

Ed cast her a quick glance. "I'm not sure if I should be complimented or insulted by that remark. You're pretty good at sarcasm too, Sloan." But he answered her grin with his own as he bent over the keyboard, composing a letter designed to bring Lewis out of his den.

Night had fallen over the Whitney University campus, and Tom and Sloan were cautiously entering the darkened Biolab. Lewis had set strict parameters on his appearance at the lab; Sloan and Tom must appear promptly at 10:30 p.m., unarmed, and alone. His reply had come through University inter-office mail, an occurence that pointed toward infiltration of the New Species somewhere in the University administration, and caused Sloan and Ed to look nervously over their shoulders while walking on campus. Tom had merely raised an eyebrow; he had suspected that Lewis would have set up agents at Sloan's place of work in order to keep an eye on her.

Ray and Walter, of course, had wanted to bring someone else in to guard their backs, but Tom and Sloan had both vetoed that idea. They knew that Lewis would be able to sense the presence of others, and they would never be able to capture him that way. The two were confident that they would be able to outwit Lewis now that they confronted him on their own turf.

Sloan peered carefully through the glass doors that marked the inner lab rooms themselves. In the dim lighting, she could see the lab monkeys, successors to James and his cage-mates, who were resting on their perches. She felt Tom's inquiring gaze on her face but could only shrug her shoulders; it was impossible to tell from the apes' behavior if Lewis had arrived early. If he had been here a sufficiently long time, they would have already calmed down from any agitation he had caused upon his arrival.

The monkeys were used to both Tom and Sloan's presence in the lab, so they did not stir as the pair passed their cage. The big main lab looked empty. Sloan felt the tension in her neck and consciously tried to relax. She knew that her nervousness must be communicating itself to Tom, doubling any tension he himself might be feeling. She tried to reduce the fear in both of them by murmuring, "Hey, Tom, did you hear the one about....."

Her joke was abruptly cut short as Tom held up one hand, using the other to press his temple as he shook his head back and forth. He felt an sense of disorientation, accompanied by the odd psychic buzzing that he had felt during the press conference with Roger Young, just prior to the journalist's death at the hands of Lisa, Lewis' assassin.

"Lewis is here," he whispered urgently. "I can feel him blocking me."

"Quite right, Tom. I applaud your deductive reasoning. That trick *is* rather short-lived, isn't it?" The silky tones of Lewis brought both Tom and Sloan around. The bearded man stepped out from behind one of the larger machines that Walter had "borrowed" from the feds. On his face was one of his small smiles, which left all who saw it feeling cold and afraid. In his raised hands was a small, deadly looking pistol.

Sloan made an attempt to take a sliding step while Lewis' eyes were trained on Tom. "Not so fast, Dr. Parker. I can't let either of you get away, can I?" Lewis asked in that caressing voice that she'd hated ever since he used while she had lain, gagged and helpless, and been forced to endure Lewis' touches and innuendoes regarding her and Tom's relationship.

Tom had been frozen for a moment, but now forced himself to relax and adopt a conversational tone. "Do you have a feeling of deja vu, Lewis? I know I do. You held a gun on us once before, too. Of course, you didn't have the guts to actually pull the trigger on *me*, did you?"

Tom continued in that slightly taunting vein, and Lewis obediently responded. Sloan felt a quick flash of satisfaction. They had Lewis pegged, alright. He *was* vain, and *did* respond to taunts aimed at him. Then she quickly began to sing faintly nonsensical song lyrics to herself in her head. This was the closest she could come to the blocking manuever that allowed New Species members to hide their presence from one another. She needed to mask her emotions and purpose from Lewis. Her own insistence that this manuver would work and Tom's reluctant admission that it *did* prevent him from reading her emotions were the only things that won Ray and Walter's permission for her to accompany Tom on this mission.

Sloan proceeded from "Frere Jacques" to "The Zip-e-dee-do-dah Song" as she edged her way over to one of the lab tables. Tom, unable to read what she was feeling, redoubled his efforts to hold Lewis' attention. He began, in great detail, to relay to Lewis how he had grossly disobeyed Lewis' orders by sparing the life of the young boy and his mother just prior to meeting Sloan. He could feel the rage building in Lewis, and prayed that Sloan would be ready to strike soon.

Sloan almost burst forth into 'My, oh, my, what at wonderful day!' when she finally reached the table and grabbed a large hypo that Ed had prepared and left ready for her use. Now came the *really* tricky part. She dropped quickly to the floor, and, rolling over and over, managed to get within reach of Lewis before he actually knew what was happening. She lifted the hypo, drove it into the large muscle of Lewis' thigh, and depressed the plunger.

Tom rushed forward and disarmed Lewis as the powerful narcotic went to work on him. The other man's knees buckled and he fell forward on his face as Tom hefted the weapon, keeping it trained on him, just in case.

Sloan had quickly rolled away from the falling Lewis, and brought handcuffs out of a nearby drawer, handing them to Tom, who set about snapping them around Lewis' wrists. Sloan went to the light switch, flicking the lights on and off in a pre-arranged signal to Walter and Ray, who would bring the police. Although Lt. Quinn was reluctant to believe in the powers of the New Species, even he could not refuse when the President of the University requested a police presence, concerned with the threatening letter that Lewis had sent through the University mails.

The police quickly came through the door, accompanied by Ray, Walter, and Ed. Walter urged Ray to accompany Lewis and the cops, and murmured "Get them to question him as soon as they can, Ray. That stuff works almost as well as sodium pentathol. He should tell them all about what he's been up to." Ray grinned and nodded, before accompanying his former collegues out to their cars.

Later, Sloan and Tom entered her apartment. Although tired, neither one felt much like resting. They were buoyed up by their victory over Lewis, and although they knew that others of the New Species would be waiting in the wings, they fully savored their recent victory.

"Sloan, you were wonderful," Tom said for about the seventh time. Sloan gave a mocking bow, her greenish eyes glowing with a combination of pride and relief. "I didn't think that nonsense song idea would hold up under pressure, but..."

"Tom, you've given me such nice compliments, but then you keep ruining it by saying you didn't really believe it would work! Maybe next time you'll have a little more faith!"

"Sloan, I.... I'm just so grateful you're okay!" The normally stoic Tom allowed some of the fear he'd been feeling to show on his face, then clasped Sloan's hands and pulled her forward into his embrace. He buried his face in her reddish curls, hugging her tightly.

Just before she started to run out of air, his arms loosened. He let her go only far enough so that he could bring both hands up to frame her face. "Sloan, if I'd lost you, I don't know *what* I would have done." He searched her eyes for a moment before bringing his mouth down to hers.

Sloan savored the kiss, knowing that the feelings she'd had when they'd kissed in the motel, and afterward when she brought him back from under Lewis' sway at the lab, were not just caused by the fear of the moment. These were real feelings she had for this man; and 1.6% difference or not, she was eager to explore those feelings. She gave a contented little sigh as the kiss ended and Tom embraced her again, gently this time, holding her head against his chest and settling his chin on top of her curls.

But she needed time. Sloan knew that she didn't want to rush anything. She had to lighten the moment. 'Aha!' she thought. 'I have just the thing !'

"Hey Tom," she murmured. When he made an interrogative noise, she continued. "Have you heard the one about Yeltsin, Clinton, and the Pope in a life raft?"

Tom released her to stare in amazement, then his whole face fell into laughter lines as his rich chuckle merged with Sloan's giggles, and they collapsed into chairs, laughing like hyenas in the otherwise quiet night.

The End.