“We really should start packing tonight. We leave in three days, you know.” Trixie started rummaging in her shoulder bag for her key as she and Dan came to a halt in front of their apartment door. Her keys were in one of the bag's many pockets, but precisely which pocket was anyone's guess.

Dan rolled his eyes and elbowed Trixie out of the way. He smoothly inserted his key in the lock and then stopped, his hand motionless above the doorknob.

“Did we lock the door this morning?”

Trixie stopped rifling through her bag and looked up to see the serious expression on Dan’s face.

“You know we did,” she responded slowly. “One of us locks the door, the other checks to make sure it’s secure.” She glanced at the door in apprehension, and felt a sudden return of the nameless fear that had been bothering her for days. The dark wood was unharmed, and the lock appeared intact.

Silently, Dan removed his keys from the lock and pocketed them before retrieving his weapon. Gun drawn, he nodded to Trixie before pushing the door open. Trixie immediately dropped her bag in the hallway and removed her own weapon before cautiously following Dan into the apartment.

Intent on apprehending any intruder, Trixie scarcely took the time to notice the state of the apartment. However, when they had ascertained that the perpetrators were long gone, she and Dan began the dismal task of assessing the damage.

Trixie stood in the middle of the living room with her hands on her hips. “Well,” she asked Dan, “are you going to call it in, or should I?”

Dan’s eyes drifted around the room before meeting Trixie’s. He was soon on his cell phone, notifying their direct supervisor of the break-in. Within an hour, a forensic team arrived, and Dan and Trixie were relegated to the hallway of the building to deflect the questions of curious neighbours. Several hours later, the forensic team finished its work, and they were allowed back in to the apartment.

They both sighed and let their eyes wander as they tried to postpone the depressing, yet unavoidable task. Snapping into action, Trixie said, “Well, we may as well start. Want to tackle the living room first?”

Dan nodded and they began setting the room to rights. It was only a few seconds before Trixie broke the heavy silence. “Shoot!” The one word, spoken vehemently, conveyed both anger and frustration. Dan looked up from the books he was returning to the bookcase to see Trixie kneeling on the floor.

At Dan’s approach, she pointed to the remains of a framed picture. It was one of her favourite photographs of the Bob Whites, taken at the lake as they celebrated her seventeenth birthday. Ms. Trask had snapped the candid shot while the seven youths were relaxing after a delicious meal and birthday cake. Diana and Honey were relaxing in lounge chairs, laughing while Mart snacked on the leftovers. Brian was resting, exhausted from his studies. Jim sat with his arm around Trixie as they talked quietly. Dan was smiling as he teased Mart. The picture was battered and ripped, severely damaged when its frame was smashed.

“Don’t move,” Dan cautioned. “I’ll get the broom. Be careful that you don’t touch the broken glass.”

Trixie nodded mutely and continued to stare at the picture. Would the Bob Whites ever share that easy camaraderie again, or had their relationships been destroyed as effectively as the picture? She felt the prick of tears behind her eyes as she remembered the happiness of her teen-aged years. The girl in the picture had it all—a loving family, the best friends in the world, and a boy who gave her fond glances. She jumped as Dan returned with the broom and dustpan.

“Stay right there. We don’t want to track glass through the place.” Dan efficiently shook the glass off the picture, and swept up the shards. When he finished, he extended a hand to Trixie and pulled her to her feet. As she waited impatiently, Dan checked her clothing for more glass and brushed her down.

“Just in case.” He gave Trixie an exaggerated leer. The sombre mood broken, she laughed and pushed him away.

“Nice, Danno, nice. Keep acting like this, and Tina from accounting isn't going to believe that you're gay,” Trixie jibed, referring to the co-worker in another department who wouldn't leave Dan alone until Trixie lied and convinced her that she really wasn't Dan's type.

Dan shuddered, and the two resumed their work. Five minutes later, Trixie snapped her fingers and made her way to the stereo. She pulled out one of the few CDs not on the floor and popped it into the stereo. She smiled in satisfaction as Boston’s Corporate America album drifted over them.

“Much better.” Trixie winked at Dan and sang along to the music as she began the odious task of returning each CD to its case.

“You do realize that Corporate America was released oh, at least ten years after the eighties were officially over, right?”

Trixie shrugged. “Good music is good music. Plus, it still has that eighties feel.”

Dan shook his head, but couldn’t deny that the tunes did help make the job of tidying the apartment a little less onerous. Two hours of hard work later, the kitchen and living room were navigable once again.

“Although, I really don’t know what they expected to find in our fridge. Maybe they got hungry?” Trixie wondered out loud as she returned the lettuce to the crisper.

Dan sat down at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee. “I know I’m hungry. It’s almost midnight, and we haven’t had supper.”

Trixie looked up in surprise. She had been so intent on setting the apartment to rights that she hadn’t noticed the late hour. Suddenly, she was exhausted and her very bones ached with fatigue. She watched as Dan retrieved some leftovers from the fridge and rummaged in the cutlery drawer for a fork.

She sat down at the table and laid her head on the table. “Wake me when the apartment is clean,” she commanded in a teasingly haughty voice.

Dan snorted and pushed his coffee toward her. “If you would just learn to drink coffee, you could solve a lot of your problems.”

Trixie didn’t bother lifting her head. “I’ll take my caffeine in the form of Cherry Coke, thank you very much. Chocolate is also acceptable.”

Dan held out a fork with lasagne and nudged her. “Can I interest you in five-day old rubbery lasagne?”

Trixie wrinkled her nose. “I'll pass, thank you. All I want is to go to bed.”

Dan nodded and quickly finished the lasagne in three large bites. With the dishes in the sink, they both headed to their bedrooms—and stopped short in Trixie’s doorway.

Dan let out a low whistle. “I guess your bedroom took a little more damage than the rest of the place.”

Trixie stared in horror. “I don’t remember it being quite this messy when we got home.” Every drawer of the bureau had been emptied. The covers were pulled off the bed. The small wooden closet door hung on one hinge. Even the mattress had been pulled off the bed and rested precariously on its side.

Dan looked at Trixie sharply. “Where are Bill’s files?”

Trixie immediately went to her closet and gingerly opened the broken door. She rooted around in the back until she found a large box. After removing several books, letters, and other odds and ends, she reported with relief, “They’re right here, safe and sound.”

Replacing the box, she turned back to her room. She walked slowly to her dresser and picked up the jewellery box that was lying open and overturned. With a sigh of relief, she located her daughter’s ring, onyx necklace, and bracelet.

Dan looked at her questioningly before asking, “And the cross?”

Trixie smiled and fingered the chain around her neck. She slowly withdrew the cross that was tucked behind her blouse. “Present and accounted for.”

“When did you start wearing it?” Dan asked in surprise.

“On and off since we got back from Minsk.”

Dan regarded her curiously. “What made you decide to start wearing it?”

Trixie shrugged. “It just seemed too beautiful to waste, sitting in my jewellery box. Who knows when it was worn last?”

“Since when do you take more than a passing interest in jewellery?” Dan laughed.

Flushing, Trixie fingered the chain. “I don't know. I just like wearing it. That's all.” Looking at the chaos of her room, she suddenly remembered how very tired she was. “What a mess,” she observed flatly.

Dan looked at her drawn face and recognized the delayed symptoms of mild shock. While able to effectively process the events of her challenging job, she had a harder time managing the invasion of her privacy.

“You can sleep in my room tonight,” he offered.

“You don't have to do that,” Trixie protested. “It won't take me long to clean this up...” Her voice trailed off.

Dan snorted. “I've seen how you clean. And I'm not helping you, because there's no way I'm dealing with your,” he made quote marks in the air, “unmentionables.” He put an arm around her shoulders and steered her into his relatively clean bedroom. “Just go to bed. We'll deal with this in the morning.”

Giving her no chance to argue, he quickly straightened up the few items that were out of place and turned back the covers on his bed. Too tired to really care, Trixie brushed her teeth, changed her clothes, and gratefully accepted the offer of Dan’s room. After ensuring that Trixie was settled, Dan headed for the living room to make himself comfortable on the couch.

Trixie lay in Dan’s bed with her eyes closed and breathed deeply. The charcoal grey comforter was fluffy, inviting, and smelled slightly of cologne. The pillow was flatter than her own, but still comfortable. Black sheets provided a welcome canopy as she burrowed under the covers. Comforted by the familiar cologne, her mind began to wander.

She was jolted wide awake at the sight of a man standing over her, piercing her with his eyes. Trixie cowered in the bed, hardly daring to look at the man. With dark hair and eyes, he should have looked like Dan, but couldn’t have been more different. Though she couldn't explain why, Trixie knew that he was a man ruthless with ambition. A man who could see into her very soul. He was questioning her, but she couldn’t understand the words. She knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he was burning his way into her soul. His eyes grew larger and drew closer. And suddenly, they were not black, but the liquid fire of gold. Trixie gasped and cowered, knowing that she could not withstand his power. The eyes were nearer, nearer. Unable to look away, she saw his arms slowly, inexorably, extend. Her mouth worked in a desperate attempt to repel him. Whatever else happened, he mustn’t touch her. Trixie felt the blaze of his touch and began to scream.

Her first waking thought was to wonder what could possibly be causing the high-pitched wail which filled the room. Within seconds, she realized that she was the source of the inhuman shrieks, and that they had mercifully stopped. Trixie slumped in relief, and only gradually became aware that she was being held in strong arms. Her panic returned as she remembered the man from her dream, but immediately dissolved as Dan began to speak.

Holding her firmly against his chest, he whispered, “It’s okay, Trixie. No one is going to hurt you.”

Trixie closed her eyes and held on to the words. It was okay. There was no one to hurt her. She took great gulps of air, and slowly felt some of the tension leave her body. As her own heartbeat slowed, she could feel the strong thud of Dan’s heart as he pressed her to his chest. She slowly lifted her head and was surprised by the coolness of the air on her cheek. She raised a hand to touch it, and discovered that her face was covered in tears. Without looking, she knew that Dan’s bare chest must be wet as well.

Her breath still rasping painfully, she looked up into Dan’s worried eyes. As she remembered the eyes of the man from her dream, she began to shudder. Dan tightened his hold on her and drew the comforter around both of them. He patted her back and waited for her to calm down.

When her shaking finally ceased, he withdrew far enough to look at her face. “Better?”

Trixie nodded in silence.

Dan started to get up. “Would you like tea?”

Trixie shook her head, her blue eyes still wild. “No.” She let out a shuddering breath. “Just stay for a minute, okay?”

Dan returned to her side. Settling himself beside her, he leaned against the headboard and asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Trixie shook her head, the terror still too near.

“What can I do?”

Trixie made more room for him on the bed. “Just keep me company for a little bit.”

Dan started to put an arm around her, and then looked down at himself sheepishly. “Do you want me to go put on some pants?”

Trixie looked at Dan carefully for the first time and realized that he was wearing only boxers. In the aftermath of the tension, she began to giggle uncontrollably.

Dan rolled his eyes. “I’ll take that as a no. Now, are you going to laugh at me all night, or are you going to get some sleep?”

Trixie’s giggles gradually subsided as she tucked herself into Dan’s arms.

“Thanks, Danno.”

“Any time, Friday.”

As the first light of morning filtered through the window, Trixie awoke, and had to think for a moment to figure out where she was, and why she was so uncomfortable. When she finally realized that she was in Dan's room, and that it was his elbow pressing into her side that was bothering her, she groaned.

“Comfy?” Dan's deep voice questioned, though his eyes remained firmly shut.

“Not really,” Trixie groused. “You take up too much room.”

Dan snorted and opened one eye. “This from the girl whose hair is spread across both pillows. If you'll excuse me, I need to go cough up a hair ball,” he teased.

“That’ll teach you to come to my rescue.” she retorted.

Dan shook his head as he climbed out of bed and stretched. “That must have been some nightmare.”

Trixie’s face turned serious. “I have no idea what was up with that. I suppose it was from the stress of the break-in, but that’s pretty silly. We deal with worse every day at work. And you know I don’t get nightmares.”

She turned away before he could remind her of the rash of nightmares she had endured a few years ago. It was a subject best left buried.

Wide-awake, they were soon ready to start the day. Trixie stopped in her room only long enough to find clothes for work.

“I’ll deal with this mess later,” she told Dan grimly. “Right now, I just want to get out of here.”

Dan nodded and led the way out of the apartment. After enjoying a quick breakfast of bagels at a small café, the two headed to work. Grayson, their immediate supervisor and assistant to the Director, met them at the door to their unit. Dan raised his eyebrows at the unusually serious expression on his face.

Grayson flashed a smile completely devoid of mirth. “It seems that you two weren’t the only ones who experienced a break-in last night.”

Trixie and Dan looked past Grayson into the set of offices, but could see nothing amiss, except for the person sitting at her desk.

“What’s going on?” she demanded.

“When I turned on my computer this morning, I saw that during the night, someone had tried to access your personal files.” Trixie raised her eyebrows. “From your computer,” Grayson continued.

She gasped and tried to move past Grayson and enter the office. He gently blocked her and shook his head. “Not now, Agent Belden. We’ll let the techno wizard do his work, and then you can take a look for yourself.”

Trixie nodded and reluctantly stepped aside. Dan peered through the door himself and noted, “The techno wizard in question is Mark. If anybody can figure it out, he can.”

Trixie nodded again and looked at Grayson in frustration. “Well, what do we do now?”

Grayson glanced around, then answered, “Follow me.”

He led them to his office and waited for them to seat themselves.

“I don’t like this,” he stated flatly. “I’ve read through your recent cases. Is there anything not in your reports that I should know about?”

“No, sir,” Trixie shook her head vehemently.

Grayson nodded gravely. “I didn’t think so.” He paused before continuing. “From what the forensic team tells me, your room sustained more damage that Agent Mangan’s. Is that correct?”

Trixie and Dan both nodded.

“And it was your computer and your files that someone tried to access late last night or early this morning.” Grayson began tapping his fingers on his desk. “I don’t like this,” he repeated. “Obviously, someone thinks you are in possession of information that he or she wants. Can either of you think of what that information might be?”

At Trixie’s slight nod, Dan reluctantly spoke up. “Former Agent Bill Brooks left in our possession a box of personal effects, but I can’t think of anything that would warrant someone going to such lengths to steal it. Besides, it was in Trixie’s closet. If that’s what they wanted, they could have taken it last night.”

Grayson looked at Trixie and Dan thoughtfully before coming to a decision. He stood up and addressed them briskly. “You’re scheduled for a vacation in two days. I hereby order you to take it early. Go home. Pack. Do whatever you need to do, and get out of town. I’ll be in touch when I know more.”

Trixie and Dan looked up in surprise.

“I’m hoping that whatever is going on is linked to the office, and not you personally,” he continued kindly. “I’d feel better if you were out of harm’s way for a little while. And I’m sure your families will enjoy a few extra days with you at Christmas.”

“Are you sure?” Trixie frowned. “We can stay here and help, you know. I want to know what’s going on.”

Grayson pointed to the door. “Get out of here, Belden, before I put you on unpaid leave. Move it!”

Trixie smiled at the twinkle in his eye and reluctantly opened the door. “Thank you, sir.”

Dan started to follow her, but was stopped by Grayson, who nodded at Trixie’s retreating back.

“Is she okay?” he asked.

Dan met his worried eyes. “I don’t know, sir. She didn’t have a good night last night.”

Grayson nodded slowly, reflecting on Trixie’s bloodshot eyes and lack of spunk. He clasped Dan on the arm. “Keep an eye on her.”

Dan smiled ruefully and followed after Trixie. “It's the story of my life, Sir.”