The ink-black darkness was like a heavy weight, pressing against her, holding her down, stealing her breath. Trapping her. Trixie struggled against the invisible enemy; fought to free herself.

“Shhh, Trixie. You're safe. Go back to sleep.” She felt the gentle touch of a cool hand on her brow.

A wave of relief washed over her. The calm voice was a life-preserver, and she held on tight. She drifted back to sleep.

She woke several hours later, blinking in the bright sunshine that streamed through the window. Sensing that she was being watched, she turned her head to meet the gaze of a pair of intense green eyes.

“Trixie.” Jim's voice was thick with unshed tears. “You're okay.”

Her heart thumped loudly as he leaned closer.

“You gave us a good scare, you know.” He gently tugged a stray curl. The air began to hum with the electricity between them.

The door of the small room opened, and a nurse entered the room. “You woke up just in time for breakfast,” she observed.

Trixie sat up straighter in the bed and Jim settled back in his chair to give her more room. She saw a generic private hospital room, and realized that she was most likely in a CIA health facility. The nurse made eye contact with her. “The doctor will be in shortly to speak with you,” she said. She arranged the food tray, and then left the room.

“Virginia?” Trixie asked, inspecting the scrambled eggs and toast.

Jim nodded. “We're all here. They treated and released most of us yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” Trixie put down her egg-laden fork. “How long was I out?”

“Long enough,” Jim said grimly, worry lines etching his face. “We've been here thirty-six hours.”

“But everyone else is okay?” Trixie demanded.

“More or less. Everyone has some bumps and bruises. Dan has a broken arm, and a broken leg.”

“What about Honey?” Trixie asked, remembering how she had shoved her friend to the exit of the crumbling building.

“What about me?” a friendly voice asked from the doorway.

“Honey!” Trixie squealed. “You're safe!”

Honey set down a vase filled with yellow tulips. “Of course I am, thanks to you.” She shook her head. “I have a bone to pick with you.”

“Pick all the bones you want, Honey,” Trixie beamed. “I'm just glad you made it out.”

Honey laughed. “It's impossible to stay angry with you, do you know that?”

Trixie's eyes danced. “Good.” Her stomach growled in protest at being neglected for almost two days, and she tied in with a healthy appetite. “Now, I want to hear all about what happened.”

Honey shrugged her shoulders. “Brian and Mart managed to find the Escalade. Dan's bag was gone, but his cell phone was under a seat.”

Trixie looked up in surprise. “Of course! Mordem wouldn't leave the vehicle on the side of the road for just anyone to find. And the CIA must have picked up the 911 call.”

Honey nodded. “It sure didn't take long for the CIA to show up. They're even more professional than I thought they would be.”

“I'm glad to hear that,” a quiet voice said.

Trixie looked up sharply as her supervisor, Grayson, entered the room.

“Mr. Frayne, Ms. Wheeler.” Grayson greeted them briskly, but with a genuine smile.

“And that's our cue to go and find our own breakfasts, I think.” Jim pressed Trixie's hand. “We'll be back soon.”

Trixie reluctantly nodded, and watched them leave the room. Grayson sat down in the chair Jim had vacated, and waited patiently. When Jim and Honey disappeared from view, Trixie turned her attention to her supervisor.

“I'm beginning to think that Bill should have recruited all the Bob-Whites to be CIA agents,” Grayson mused, causing Trixie to laugh out loud.

“It never would have worked. Mart would blow every operation by leaving to get take-out,” Trixie retorted with a grin. Her expression turned serious as she thought about her best friends. “Be honest. How bad is it that they know?”

Grayson shook his head. “As far as I'm concerned, nobody knows anything. To be honest with you, Trixie, our department is in shambles right now. I don't think anybody would notice if you took out an ad in the Sleepyside Sun announcing your real occupation.”

“That bad?”

He inclined his head, silver hair glinting in the bright morning light. “It's a mess, Agent Belden. Former Director Saunders is being detained and interrogated. Every case he had contact with is under review. The powers that be are very unhappy with his unsanctioned activities.”

“Good,” Trixie bit out. “They should be.”

Grayson leaned back and studied one of the most promising agents he had ever worked with. “How are you feeling?”

Trixie blinked at the sudden conversation shift. “I hadn't really thought about it yet.” She paused, and then shrugged. “I feel fine.”

Grayson continued to study her, causing Trixie to squirm. “What?” she asked.

He regarded her steadily. “The CIA is very interested in studying the effects of the cross on you.”

“Studying?” Trixie asked. Her tone was wary.

Grayson nodded. “We have a unique opportunity. The technology you've been exposed to is, quite simply, revolutionary. If any agency held such power to influence people's thoughts, the possibilities are almost endless.”

Trixie waited, knowing that she wouldn't like whatever was coming next.

“The CIA is very interested in you, Agent Belden.”

“But I don't have the cross!” she protested. “There's no way it survived the explosion.”

“You did,” he pointed out. “But the CIA tends to agree with you. The cross and lab were destroyed beyond any hope of retrieving useful technology.” He paused, his blue eyes sharp. “You're the only link we have left.”

Besides Bill, Trixie thought, remembering who had given her the cross originally. A wave of sadness washed over her as she realized that Bill's mental state made him almost useless to the CIA. She forced her attention back to the present. “What's the plan?” she asked, knowing that her fate had already been decided.

“You're to go back to New York.”

Trixie's jaw dropped. “What?”

“Physically, we think you're fine,” Grayson said. “It's your mental state that concerns the CIA.”

“What about it?” Trixie asked suspiciously.

“We have no idea how the cross affected you, or what it did to you. We need to know these things, Agent Belden.”

Trixie's eyes widened in sudden understanding. “You don't trust me in the field!”

“It's not that we don't trust you. We just don't know exactly what we're dealing with. In all likelihood, you'll be an even better agent than you were before. We just don't know, and it will take some time for you to be cleared for active duty again.”

“So I'm supposed to cool my heels in Sleepyside until you decide that you can trust me?”

“It's paid time off. With weekly check-ins with a doctor in New York.”

“Why not here, in Virginia?” Trixie asked, unwilling to admit the appeal of staying in Sleepyside for an undetermined period of time.

Grayson smiled. “Because my superiors know full well that if you were anywhere near, I'd be pulling you in on every operation possible.”

Pleased that her supervisor still trusted her, she asked, “What about Dan? Will he be going to Sleepyside, too?”

Grayson shook his head. “Dan has a special assignment. Since he's out of commission because of his broken leg and arm, he'll be working on the task force investigating former Director Saunders. Not to mention all the agents who were taking orders from Saunders.”

Trixie looked up at him thoughtfully. “That's why someone was watching us in Sleepyside, isn't it? And why someone broke into our apartment. It wasn't Mordem at all—it was Saunders! Or someone working with him.”

“That's one area Agent Mangan will be investigating,” Grayson confirmed. “In fact, that's what he's doing right now. If it makes you feel better, I'm pretty sure that Dan would rather be in New York than here, sifting through all that paperwork and investigating your colleagues.”

Trixie laughed, but it was half-hearted. It just didn't seem right for Dan to be actively working for the CIA, and for her to be out of the loop.

“I'll be in touch to talk details with you,” Grayson said, standing. “Right now I think your friends are rather anxious to check on you.”

Trixie's question stopped him at the door. “You said “former” Director Saunders. Who's the new boss?”

Grayson turned back. “You're looking at him.” His eyes twinkled. “And while I won't be accepting jewellery as a bribe, I am partial to the coffee from that little bistro you pass on your way to work every morning...”

Trixie rolled her eyes, even as she laughed. “Congratulations on the promotion! I know you'll do a great job.”

Grayson opened the door. “You did good work, Agent Belden,” he said, and allowed the Bob-Whites crowding the hallway to enter the room.

Trixie eagerly took in the sight of her friends, relieved that they appeared fully-recovered and cheerful. The small hospital room was suddenly filled to bursting, and echoed with noise as everybody talked at once.

Two hours later, Trixie snapped the clasp on her suitcase. Cleared to leave, she took one last look around the room to make sure she wasn't leaving anything behind. She spotted an envelope tucked behind the vase of flowers Honey had brought. Smiling at the sight of her name in distinctive hand-writing, Trixie ripped the envelope open.

Grayson tells me that you'll be discharged today. I'm sorry that I won't be there to say good-bye, but they're really pushing for us to go through all of Saunders' files. I'm going to be stuck at a computer for weeks. I hear that you'll be on an extended vacation. Well, Grayson always did like you best.

Seriously, I hope you're okay. I wish I could be there with you, but I'll call when I can. Please take care of yourself. If you need me, let me know, and I'll be wherever you want. Day or night.

Love, Dan

Trixie folded the piece of paper carefully and slipped it into her purse. She paused, still holding the note. Day or night? Frowning, she remembered her dream from the previous night, and the voice that had comforted her. Surely that had been Jim? A frown creased her forehead as she tucked the paper into her purse and closed the door of the hospital room behind her.

Seeing her friends waiting expectantly to escort her from the hospital, Trixie felt an overwhelming sense of contentment. It didn't matter who had been with her the previous evening. She was surrounded by family, friends, and love. Trixie looked up into Jim's familiar green eyes, filled with love for her. She had everything she could possibly want.

Of that, she was persuaded.