Phryn Xerxes, Marta, Bo, Mary and the Chambers family are my own creations.  ---ki (XMP)

Phryn Xerxes winced and touched one ear as the next song started playing for the couples dancing . The insistent beat of the too loud music out of badly balanced loud-speakers combined with the quick-paced babble of the crowd to pound directly into her head, making her sinuses throb in time to the music. The brightly dressed, anxious-faced people crowded into the small night club yelled and screamed at one another, desperately trying to make human contact for just one night in their weekly attempt to ease the loneliness of the other six. Closing her eyes against the confusing dimness, punctuated by random stabs of glaring flashes, Phryn sighed, rolling the glass against her hot forehead, the heat of the room intensifying the pain in her head from the sound, the lights, the confusion.

Coming to a decision, she set the drink she'd been nursing for the past hour down on the table and stood up, craning to catch a glimps of her friends on the packed dance floor.

"Ummm, excuse me. But are you alone?" Phryn turned and blinked with some surprise at the young woman who had suddenly appeared at her elbow.

"No, I'm here with some friends," she said kindly.

Looking a little disappointed, the woman replied, "Oh, I see." Then in a sudden burst of speech, as if afraid that she would lose her nerve if she didn't, she asked, "Would you care to dance?"

Phryn hissed with sympathy and smiled regretfully. "I am sorry. But I'm getting ready to leave now. That's why I stood up." As her face fell, Phryn added helplessly, "Perhaps if you'd asked earlier .... " Feeling like some kind of monster, trampling on the hopes of another, she smiled tightly with real regret, shrugged and moved away.

Pushing through the crowd, men talking to men, women nuzzling women, Phryn felt more like a freak than ever. This had been a bad idea all around. She'd thought so when Bo and Mary had suggested after the encounter meeting this week, but had been persuaded to give it a try anyway. Well, she'd tried it, and it wasn't for her. The noise and confusion here just made her think wistfully of the peace and serenity of Thunder Karate Dojo, and the pushiness and self-promotional atmosphere of this over-populated meat market made C.D.'s seem like an oasis of calm.

Spying Bo's towering height gyrating off to one side, Phryn pushed harder to reach the spot before the other woman disappeared again. Bo was 6 foot 7, taller than most men, and built like a linebacker, with harsh, almost masculine features. Just seeing her, one was surprised to find her in a rape encounter group. But on talking to her, you found that she was really a timid, sweet and essentially feminine person, someone you wanted to take care of.

Now Phryn was close enough to see Mary as well, dancing with her partner. The two of them were a study in contrasts. Bo's hulking bulk and coarse features making Mary's delicate, blonde beauty, like that of a porcelain doll, even more striking.

Shoving through the last barrier of people separating her from her friends, Phryn reached out and touched Bo's back, nodding at Mary. Shouting over the din, she tried to tell them that she was leaving now, but wasn't sure that they understood her. Instead, they nodded and followed her out of the crush.

"Sorry, you guys," she said, when she could hear herself again, "but this isn't working." Phryn waved an arm toward the night club scene. "I'm heading on home." Mary, looked up at Bo, sharing a quiet conversation of glances and nods, then shrugged.

"It's ok. We were only waiting to see if you would click with anyone. Can you wait until we get our things?" Phryn stayed near the entrance, enjoying the cooler air entering from outside every time it opened, while her friends retrieved a few items from the table. Mary was the indisputed leader of the two, making all necessary decisions, protecting Bo from the insensitivities of others. Phryn suspected that Mary had been the one to make the first moves when the two of them had met.

The relationship between the two women made Phryn feel a little regretful and more than a little envious. But she didn't think that their way of coping was necessarily hers. All the same, it had been so long since she'd been able to tolerate a man's presence. If this goes on much longer, she thought ruefully, she might as well take holy orders and leave it at that.

The transition from inside, no matter how dim, to a parking lot at night brought with it the expected panic attack, and Phryn stopped, her heart racing, perspiring and panting with the intensity of it. Every time, she thought that she was prepared. Everytime, it hit her with a force that caught her breath and made rational thought all but impossible. Not even knowing that it would happen helped. It just seemed to make the fear worse. Mary and Bo waited in sympathetic silence. All three women were members of the same rape encounter group. They well knew each other's nightmares.

Resolutely determined not to let it get the better of her, Phryn took a deep breath and nodded her thanks before heading for her bright red VW Bug, grateful for the company of the other two. But, like a nightmare, a mean, hateful voice, young with the lilting cadences of a Mexican accent, called out of the darkness.

"Hey, manos! Look what we got ourselves here tonight. Three she-males." Phryn spared a curse for the person who had designed the parking lot here with so few streetlamps as she looked around for the source of the sound. Shadows ahead separated from the dark shapes of parked cars, merging into a group and approaching the three women.

"Maybe we can show them what they are missing, huh, manos?" A second voice suggested. "Hey, ladies, you like that?" he grabbed at his crotch and shoved his pelvis at them, to the ribald laughter of his fellows. Phryn placed herself between her friends and the approaching threat. Quietly, she spoke over her shoulder.

"Make a break for your car when I tell you. I'll try to hold them off until you get back here."

"Phryn, you can't! There are five, no six, of them, and only one of you."

"Just DO it!" she replied tersely as the sixth gang member stepped into the halo from the lamp in this quadrant of the lot.Scanning her opponents for weaknesses as Sensei Malloy had taught her, Phryn barely noticed their faces, but something about the way the last one held himself seemed familiar. Flicking a glance up at his face, her heart jumped into her throat, although she schooled her expression to show nothing.

"Oh, look," the leader mocked, coming closer. "This one thinks she's a man."

"I'll teach her differently," the second eagerly offered, stepping into the invisible circle Phryn had drawn in her mind. Shouting "NOW!" as she launched herself into the air, she knocked the breath from his body and followed with a spin, chopping the flat of her hand down on his arm. She didn't need to hear the crack to know that she'd broken it. She retreated back, crouching at ready, her fingers twitching a little with the flow of adrenaline.

Mary was right, there was no way she could take them on. Her eyes flickered over them, as they halted, surprised by the sudden loss of one of their group. But she knew it was only a matter of time before they managed to work themselves up to another attack. The sixth nodded his head microscropically, his eyes narrowing. Phryn gave a small nod of her own.

"I'll take her, Jose," Phryn steeled herself against reaction as that familiar voice spoke and the body she knew so well stepped into the fight circle. The others in the gang, knowing that this was the best fighter of them, as well as the most fit, moved back and circled around, ready to offer encouragement. Phryn felt anxious that some of them were behind her, cutting off her escape route, but suppressed the emotion as a distraction. She'd need all of her attention for the fight before her. Besides, what other chance was there?

The man crouched before her, his posture almost a mirror of her own, was slightly older, but not much. His longish, black hair was slicked back, looking like it had been greased in place. He wore tight jeans, a tight, brown pullover shirt and a black leather jacket. She knew him. Had fought him many times, but then it was just for fun. Now they were both in deadly earnest.

She attacked, in and out with lightening-like speed, just as Sensei had taught, trying to keep herself out of his reach. But Carlos knew her fighting style, and he slipped to one side, so that her blow didn't hit with any great force, striking her in the side as he did so. He pulled his punch, but it looked good for the watchers and they cheered their approval. She spun around, and flew at him again, aiming for his back, just above the kidneys. He twisted out of the way, spinning to grab her arm and wrench it up behind her.

In a quiet voice, he ordered, "One more time, the moves from last week and make it look good. I'll get you out of here." Phryn grunted, jerked her arm and slammed him in the stomach, breaking his grip and dancing out of reach. Again, she attacked, this time, he tripped her and she went down, with him on top. They'd practiced this move enough in class that Phryn didn't go beserk, although the gang members did.

"All right, Carlos!" They shouted. "Do her! Do her now!" Carlos Sandoval, undercover detective for the Dallas Police Department, raised his fist and slammed it into her face, pulling the punch at the last moment. Phryn let herself go limp and felt him pick her up.

"Naw," he said to his admirers. "I want to really teach her a lesson. One she'll never forget. Later, manos." And he strode away to the chorus of excited murmurings. When they were out of sight, he put her down, keeping his arm around her shoulders for support and asking, "Are you all right?"

Phryn nodded. "I am. Now. I think." She looked back. "Ladybug is parked that way, though."

"Forget your car. I'll drive you home. You shouldn't be alone. Come on. I'm parked this way." As they walked in the lane between the silent vehicles, bright headlights flipped on suddenly, pinning them with the highbeams as a car rushed toward them. Phryn had enough time to realize who it was, and she pushed Carlos down between two cars, landing on top of him. Shots rang out, and Mary yelled, "Come on, Phryn! We've got you covered."

"You, ok?" she whispered to the man, who grunted back. "I'm going to go with them. And, thanks again Carlos." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek then, carefully, Phryn stood up and approached the car, making sure that she stayed between it and Carlos, still on the ground. When she got near enough, she grabbed the gun out of Mary's hand and slid through the opened back door. Bo barely waited until the door was shut before the vehicle shot forward.

"Hey! Give me my gun back!" Mary demanded, turning around in the front passenger seat and holding out her hand. Phryn ignored her, cracking open the chamber and emptying out the bullets, catching them in her handkerchief and tying up the corners. She then turned it over and looked for the registration number. There wasn't any. Running her finger over the spot where it should have been, she felt the rough scar of a file.

"Mary! Where did you get this?"

"I bought it. It's mine. Now give it back." Phryn sighed unhappily.

"It's not registered. You got it on the street, didn't you?" The small woman's silence answered her. "Oh, Mary," she scolded half-heartedly. "Do you even have a license to carry one?"

"No, she doesn't," Bo unexpected answered. Uh-ho, Phryn thought, there's trouble between them over this.

"Do you know how to operate one of the these?" she persisted. "Have you practiced at a firing range?"

"Oh, don't be such an old maid," Mary sulked. "How difficult can it be? You point the gun, you squeeze the trigger, boom. End of story. Now, give it back." Phryn shook her head.

"I can't do that, Mary. You have it illegally." She turned to Bo. "Swing by Thunder Karate, Bo," she asked. "I'm going to hand this over to Sensei. He has contacts with the police department. He may be able to give it to the cops without getting you into too much trouble. And next week, Mary, I'll go with you to see about getting you a license. These things are dangerous."

"Of course they're dangerous." Mary scoffed. "That's why I want one. To protect myself."

'Yeah? Well, who's going to protect the people around you? Huh? Who's going to protect Bo from the gun that you haven't even practiced firing? Do you have a lock box for it?" Her eyebrows raised in speculation. "You aren't carrying around with you everywhere, are you?"

"Well, what good is it if it's locked up somewhere where I can't get to it? Of course I'm carrying it with me. In my purse."

"And what if your purse is stolen? What if someone wrestles it away from you the way that I just did? What would you do then?" Accustomed to getting her own way, Mary didn't answer and seemed inclined to sulk, but Phryn thought that she was making an impression on the strong-willed woman.

"Anyway," Mary finally attacked from another direction, "Why Thunder Karate? Going to run to your wonderful Sensei so that you can tell on us?"

"You ought to go to the police and report it," Bo suggested practically.

"No," she replied to both women, sighing silently inside. She really did like the Mary, but her habit of slinging quarrels all over the horizon was a bit wearying. "They might ask some embarassing questions about the pistol." Besides, the police already knew about the attempt, but Phryn wasn't going to mention that. "AndI want to get my car."

"We can help you get your car." Mary insisted. "We'll go back with you and protect you."

"With this?" Phryn replied with a small laugh waving her hand at the gun. Mary made a grab for it and Phryn slipped it into her fanny pack. "No thank you. Besides, there's something else I need to talk to Trent about." They pulled up in front of the dojo and Phryn got out of the car, taking the pistol with her. "Thanks for the ride, and for the evening. And Mary, Bo? Thanks even more for caring. I'll see you two next week." With a flip of her hand, she waved goodbye and walked toward the outside entrance to Trent Malloy's apartment.

Trent was surprised to see her, so late at night. "Phryn Xerxes?" he queried as he opened the door. Phryn was glad to see that he was still dressed, in jeans and a t-shirt. She would have hated the idea of rousting him out of bed. "What's up?" Standing back , he waved her into the livingroom.

"I'm sorry to bother you like this, but ... Well, I was at a nightclub, Meduseld?" she wondered if he knew of it, what it was. He nodded to indicate that he was familiar with it, so she continued, "and there was some trouble as we were leaving. I left my car there. I was hoping that you could give me a lift back to it." Even as she asked, she could feel her forehead bead up with perspiration. What she was proposing was even harder than stepping out into a darkened parking lot. To ride in a car with a man. That was... Trent was speaking, looking at her with compassionate eyes.

"I'm sorry. You said?"

"I said, are you sure? I could call you a taxi and follow you there instead." She shook her head no.

"That's even worse," she explained sadly. "At least your car is a convertible, and I know you. To be locked into a sedan with a stranger..." she shuddered involuntarily.

"Ok," he grinned, his face lighting up and growing heart-breakingly handsome. "Just let me get my keys and get some shoes on. Then I'll be right with you."

"Thanks, and... Can I use your bathroom?" Actually, she didn't need to all that badly, luckily enough, or the fight in the parking lot would have been most embarassing. A couple of months ago, she reflected, it would have been impossible for her to even contemplate asking any man, even the Sensei, for a ride, let alone going into his apartment alone this late at night.

But for the past month, Trent and Carlos had been including her in the private lessons that the Sensei gave the police detective. Working with the muscular, burly policeman, and learning to hold her own against him, was giving the woman confidence that she could protect herself, in a crisis.

After lessons, it was natural for the three of them to head on to C.D.'s for dinner and conversation. Slowly, Phryn had been coming to trust both men, and to consider them as friends.

Tommy, Trent's younger brother, a junior in High School, looked out one of the doors, wearing pyjamas, yawning and blinking. "Hiya, Phryn," he called to her, his face brightening slightly. "What's up?" Her face softened at the sight of him. Tommy had been Phryn's first instructor at the Thunder Dojo, and she'd tutored him and some of his friends for chemistry and math tests since.

Smiling, shaking her head slightly, she answered in a soft voice, "Just ran into some trouble, that's all. Had to leave LadyBug all alone." He nodded.

"So, you're going to let Trent help you out, finally? All Right! It's about time!" Then he turned and retreated into the darkened bedroom. Phryn stared in that direction for a few seconds, nonplussed by the non sequitor, then she grinned wryly and walked into the lavatory.

Returning to the living room, she found the private investigator finishing up with his shoes. He stood, making a gallant gesture toward the door. "After you," he invited.

"Thanks for doing this, Trent. I ... I hadn't realized that Tommy was here tonight." There was an upward lilt to the statement, making it partially a question. Tommy lived with his mother and two younger siblings in a large old house on the southeast of Dallas. Phryn had never been there, but Tommy talked about it a lot.

"No. He's got a tournament early tomorrow. Makes sense for him to work out late and stay here with me overnight." Phryn nodded. Trent was an unusual big brother. Not only did he teach the martial arts to Tommy, but he often had his brother staying overnight. She wondered what their mother thought about it. "But that's not the whole reason you're here, is it? Just as a ride to collect your car." he continued as they walked up to the little convertible that was his pride and joy. "What exactly happened tonight?"

"Are you familiar with Carlos's current assignment," she probed, unwilling to betray his cover.

"Hmmm, yeah. So, you had a run in with the gang?" She nodded.

"Yeah, in the parking lot. If he hadn't offered to fight me ..." Coming up to the car, she froze, unable to move any closer. It was in a parking lot that ... Someone gave her a ride and she almost died and ... "I can't do this, Sensei," she said in a small sick voice, the panic stealing her resolve away.

Trent had stopped when she did. He regarded her with an expression of helpless compassion, which she barely saw. If he touched her, she'd lose it, she knew. All of her nightmares came flooding back and she began to hyperventilate, fighting the urge to turn and run.

"Here, you drive," he offered, holding out the keys. The offer shocked her out of the fit.

"What?"

"You drive," he repeated, urging her to take the offered ring.

Phryn shook her head. "No," she vocalized. "How can come to terms with this ... this irrational, neurotic, stupid fear of mine, if I don't face it?"

"Are you sure?" Trent checked dubiously, as she started moving again toward his car. She nodded. Opening the door, he waited until she slipped into the passenger seat and then, closing the door, he leaned over the window to look at her sympathetically.

"It's not irrational, neurotic or stupid," he reminded her in a low voice. "Your mind remembers that it was while sitting in the passenger seat with a man driving that you were severely hurt. It's trying to protect you by keeping you out of similar circumstances." Phryn shrugged uncomfortably. She knew that, but she still felt ashamed by her reactions. Trent ran around the car and jumped into the driver's seat. As soon as the engine started, Phryn found herself holding the door handle in a death grip, unable to let go, almost impossible to think rationally. Almost, but not quite. She'd battled the panic attack down, then, now she just had to keep it at bay. After a short, sideways look, her companion left her alone.

But finally, he had to break the silence. "Ummm, Phryn. I'm sorry to disturb you, but I need to know where you're parked," Trent's soft, diffident voice called her back. By a force of will, she opened her eyes and looked around, surprised to find them already at the nightclub. She was careful not to look in his direction, although, lately, she'd been taking increasing pleasure in watching him move. Right now, though ... The sight of Trent's blonde good looks at the wheel of the car would send her over the edge.

"On the left, toward the back." she directed, then continued to give directions. One of the first things that Phryn had consciously noticed about Sensei Malloy was his voice. It wasn't very deep, but it was always calm and considerate. He never raised it in class except to be heard over the noise, was never impatient, never cruel, always willing to show techniques over and over again. And he was always so very, very courteous, caring and polite. He pulled up behind LadyBug.

With a sigh of relief, Phryn stepped out of the car. "Thank you, Trent. I really do appreciate this." To her surprise, he exited the car as well, coming around to escort her to the door.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to follow you home, just to make sure that you're all right." With a grateful smile, Phryn nodded and sighed. As soon as she was in the car and had started the engine, Trent jumped into his own and backed up, giving her room to leave the spot and drive away.

Feeling more at ease than she had all evening, comfortable behind the wheel of her little, red, ancient Volkswagen bug, Phryn felt a great sense of peace and gratitude at the thought of the man in the car behind her. Turning on the radio, she let her fingers beat against the the wheel in time to the music while she continued to remember how she'd come to know him.

After getting out of the hospital, and getting the casts off about eight months ago, she'd started looking around for some kind of self-defense class. One of the detectives investigating her case has suggested Thunder Karate.

Her first sight of the slight, lithe, handsome blonde man had surprised her in an overwhelming fear reaction and she'd come close to running as she exited the dojo. But when she'd stopped at the bug, fully determined to go home and put the idea behind her, she found herself unable to figure out what it was about him that had frightened her so badly. It had been one of the hardest things she'd ever done to go back in, and stand there, watching him instruct a roomful of kids in the martial arts. She'd stayed through several lessons, just watching, calming down enough to be impressed by his even handed, even tempered delivery. But she knew in her heart that if he'd come over to talk to her himself that day, she would have freaked, badly, run out and never come back.

To her lasting relief, he hadn't. Instead, Trent had sent his younger brother, Tommy, to her, to talk to her and find out what she was doing hanging around the dojo. To this non-threatening, younger Malloy brother, Phryn was able to explain that she was hoping to sign up for lesson and get her questions answered answered about what was and was not possible. She didn't actually commit to them that day, but had gone on to other dojos, checking them out. Thunder Karate was the most impressive in terms of instructor and student attitudes, in her opinion, and Trent Malloy was the only one that scared her senseless. For both reasons, she'd returned the next week and made arrangements to attend a scheduled class.

Almost without before she realized where she was, Phryn pulled into the driveway of the small house she rented, what had once been a guesthouse to the Victorian house on the street. Getting out, she waved to Trent, pulling up behind her, waiting for him to come to a stop before walking up to the driver's side.

"Thanks for all your trouble, Trent. I know that I could have waited until tomorrow, or had a tow service bring it, but I didn't really want to leave her overnight." Sitting up on the back of the seat, so that his head was level with hers, he smiled that heart-breaking, little boy smile of his.

"Hey, no problem. Are you sure you'll be all right? I mean, that was a pretty traumatic experience tonight."

"But you should have seen her, Trent. You would have been proud." Carlos's deeper voice spoke unexpectedly from behind and his arm came down heavily on her shoulder. Phryne jumped, crying out in startlement, and just barely kept her elbow from jamming into his gut.

"Carlos!" she scolded turning on him, her sudden fright making her voice sharp. "Don't do that!" Trent slipped out of his car, putting an slightly more than friendly arm over her shoulders.

"Hey. Hey. Shhh, it's okay." Letting her go as she twisted out of his grip, he glared at his friend. "That was great, Carlos. Just great," he said. "Come on, let's go in." Feeling somewhat abashed by the violence of her reaction, Phryn nodded and led the way to the entrance, still upset enough that she allowed the blonde man to take the keys from her nerveless fingers and open the front door.

"Come on in, you two," she invited, as he stood back to let her enter first. "Anyone want something to eat, drink? I've got some beer, Dr. Pepper, lemonade or iced tea." She called over her shoulder as she dropped her jacket on the chair in the hall, pulling off her fanny pack and depositing it on top.

Following right behind as she went into the kitchen, Carlos said, "I'll take a beer. And you really shouldn't put your bag down there. It's too tempting." From the back of the house, Trent echoed his first statement, coming in to sit down at the breakfast bar a few moments later.

"Everything's secure, Phryn," he reassured her, accepting the bottle with a nod of thanks. Phryn sat across from the two men with her soft drink, her eyes dwelling with pleasure on their very different versions of male beauty.

"Like I said, Trent, you should have seen her," Carlos was saying to their shared karate instructor. Trent Malloy. Shorter, slighter than his childhood friend, Trent was none the less the more formidable of the two. There was not an ounce of extra flesh on him, it was all muscle, lithe, agile, acrobatic, graceful; she couldn't think of enough adjectives to describe him. He smiled at her, his blue eyes open and crinkling at the edges, looking up from under his blonde bangs, always almost in his eyes. She looked away, as she always did. As much as she admired him, as much as she liked him, there were times that Trent Malloy still inspired the intense anxiety attacks in her.

"She didn't even bat an eye when I stepped forward. I would have sworn that she hadn't recognized me. But man, she picked up the cues I gave her like a professional, made it real easy for me to get her out of there without any of the gang members getting suspicious. We played just like in class. They thought it was for real."

"Not just like class," she corrected. "If you hadn't been there, Carlos, I don't know ..." she shook her head. "There's no way that Mary and Bo could have gotten back in time." She stood up suddenly. "Oh, that reminds me." Going back to the foyer, she picked up her fanny pack, removing the pistol from inside. "Here," she said, handing it to her police friend. As he held out his hand to take it, she frowned at the sight of the scrapes on his palms, and headed for the medicine cabinette in the bathroom off the kitchen while he looked the weapon over critically.

"Huh! So this is what fired the shots," Carlos commented, sniffing the barrel. "Any ideas where it came from." Returning with antiseptic spray and cleaning cloths, Phryn shook her head. "Well, I'll have it tested, see if it's wanted for anything. We may have to ask your friend some questions, you know."

"Yeah I know. Wash your hands there, Carlos, and let me take care of those cuts. I'm sorry that I pushed you down like that."

As he moved to obey her, he shook his head, replying stoutly, "Don't be. Your friend was aiming at me, both of them, one with the gun and the other with the car. Who were they anyhow?" He sat back on the stool and held out his hands for her to work on.

Sitting beside him, Phryn took one of the hands and pulled it into her lap, holding it firmly as he tried to take advantage of the position. While she cleaned out the rest of the grit and dirt from each scratch with a cloth, she shot glances at him, looking him over as well.

Carlos Sandoval was taller than his friend, about 6 ft and solid muscle. His broad shoulders and sculpted chest were clearly visible in the tight pullover he was wearing while his jeans showed off his narrow waist and hips. Dark good looks and a ready smile, coupled with impertinantly expressive eyebrows made him a natural magnet for the attention of most women, a fact of which he was supremely self-aware. At the moment, though, Phryn thought that his hair was too long and she wasn't all that thrilled with the way he was wearing it, slicked back from his face. He caught her eye and raised one brow at her questioningly.

"Ummm? Oh! A couple of women from my encounter group. They're having a hard time coping with any man, right now." She paused before adding, "They thought that I should try to get out more often, and invited me to go with them."

"So, that's were you doing at a place like that," Carlos concluded with satisfaction. Phryn turned a quizzical face to him. "I mean, you aren't gay? Are you?" With a rueful smile, Phryn shrugged her shoulders.

"How would I know?" she countered. "I haven't been able to force myself to go out with anybody since the attack." Wanting to be honest, she added, "Well, except you two, occasionally. But that's not really the same thing, is it." With a sigh, she added softly as she sprayed the antiseptic over both palms and swept the things together, taking them back to the bathroom cabinette, "Even in my dreams, if one of them starts turning ..." She broke off, sitting abruptly in her seat, wondering at herself for bringing the subject up.

"You're going to have a nightmare tonight, aren't you?" Trent asked compassionately, reaching out to touch her hand. With a small grimace, Phryn nodded, pulling her hand back into her lap as Carlos looked up with sudden dismay. "Damn, I guess you are, at that! Dark night and parking lot and all that," he commented. With a nod to his partner, he finished with the observation, "Even the ride back to the bar would trigger it, wouldn't it?" Trent shot a dirty look in his direction before turning his charm on the woman across the bar.

"I could stay, if you like," Trent offered. Phryn hid a smile, he sounded eager. She couldn't quite figure him out. He never tried to become overly familiar or pushy, but he always seemed to be there if she needed him, as if he wanted her to need him there. He continued persuasively, "Then you could come to church with me tomorrow. You know the Reverend Jones would love to see you again. And Tommy has a favor to ask of you."

"That won't be..." she started to say, but Carlos was already protesting, standing up and circling around the bar to put his arm over her shoulder in rough comfort. "You? No, I'll stay. I'm a much more sensible choice. At least she can ride with me. And I can take her to church, too."

"I don't think so, my friend. You've got to get back to your friends and find out what they're up to. Besides, what do you mean, sensible choice? You've never been sensible in your life!" With a small smile, he produced the crowning arguement, "As for the last, you said it yourself. I did give her a ride back to the club."

"Naw. Those guys ran when the shots fired, your friend did accomplish that, Phryn. For all their big talk they're small potatoes." Turning back to the argument, "Ok, so maybe you did give her a ride there. That doesn't mean anything. You know that she's got some kind of bad reaction to you. She's never been afraid of me, so I'm the logical choice." He squeezed her shoulders.

"But she did come to me for help ..." Both men broke off as Phryn stood, twisting out of the dark cop's grip to slip past them out of the kitchen. Silenced by her actions, they followed her into the livingroom, finding her pulling out the hideaway bed in the couch.

"Ummm, Phryn?" Carlos asked as the two of them finished getting it out while she went to the closet for the guest sheets that fit the mattress. "Which of us is going to use this." Phryn smiled at him, shaking out the contour sheet in his direction. He grabbed one end and started easing it over the corners. Trent picked up the top sheet and stood ready to flip it over the top.

"I thought that you two would, since you've apparently invited yourselves to stay the night. My bed will only sleep two if they're very good friends and I don't think you two would appreciate that," she laughed at them. Together, they got the bed made up, whacking each other a couple of times with the pillows to get them properly fluffed up.

Leaving Carlos to finish smoothing out the blankets, Trent followed Phryn into the kitchen and helped her clear it up. "Leave your bed room door open," he advised in a low voice, " so we can hear if you need help. Besides," he added, raising the volume so he could be easily overheard in the livingroom, "if I've got to listen to him snore all night long, you should, too."

"Hey! I've told you before. I don't snore, I'm just a heavy sleeper!" Carlos defended his honour.

"Yeah, yeah. I've heard that before, but I've also heard you sleep. Believe me my friend, you SNORE!" Phryn laughed at him and snapped gently with the dish towel.

"I will, Trent. And thanks for everything." She raised one hand to his face and touched the side of it gently, then passed Carlos in the door way, giving him a quick hug on the way out toward her bedroom. She could hear them getting ready, in the darkness, as she pulled on her dorm shirt and lay down. It wasn't long before she heard the rasping heavy breathing of a sleeping male. The sound lulled her to sleep.

Phryn left the ParaChemical Technology building and looked around. The sun was only just setting. She had plenty of time. But as she reached the bright red VW bug parked all by itself in the far corner of the employee's parking lot, the sky was black and the lights were shining. Sitting in the driver's seat, knowing that it was futile, Phryn turned the key. Nothing. She tried again.

A car drove up beside her and Trent Malloy looked out. "Can I give you a ride somewhere?"

"Thanks," she replied, sliding out of the stalled vehicle. "I'd like that." He opened the passenger door from inside, pushing it out for her, and she sat beside him and smiled.

They drove through the dreamscape into a nightmare, the scenery outside growing more and more wild and unreal. Phryn watched the melting building flash by as they went faster and faster, then turned to ask the driver to slow down. But it wasn't Trent, not anymore. He turned his faceless head to her and braked to a stop.

Before the engine was off, Phryn had the door open and was off running, but her feet weren't working properly. It was like running through treacle or quicksand, and the thing was gaining on her.

"That's not the way I taught you, Phryn," Trent admonished, stepping out in front, a different Trent, the real one, with Carlos at his shoulder.

"Yeah, just pretend it's me," he echoed with a small lift of his chin. Phryn slowed and turned around. The nightmare shape came at her, slamming her in the side, but Trent called out a soft warning and she turned with the blow, muting it. Continuing the spin, she lashed out with a kick, knocking it back. Trent suggested another manuever and another, with Carlos chiming in his opinions, and Phryn fought the nightmare back, kneeling on its chest and grabbing for the mask, wanting to see its face as it faded away into nothingness.

With a small exhalation of breath, Phryn woke up, her heart racing, but not terrified, not sweating, not panicked. A victory. Hearing the duet of deep breathing from the other room, she turned over to her side and closed her eyes, slipping easily back into the dream to find that the two of them had waited for her to return and were ready to help her celebrate her win for the night.

Phryn Xerxes woke up with a contented smile on her face and the smell of fresh brewed coffee in her nose. She grinned at Trent, peeking around the door jamb, cup in hand. "Come on in," she whispered the invitation, deducing from the sounds that Carlos was still asleep on the fold-away bed. He entered, revealing a second cup in his other hand, and shut the door with his elbow on the way. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he handed her one, and sipped the other, his eyes examining her face closely.

"How did you sleep?" he asked. Phryn knew that he'd already read the answer in her expression, but she was grateful for the courtesy.

"I won again," she answered the real question, leaning back on the headboard and raising her head as she stretched her back. She opened her eyes to smile happily at him, as he shifted his attention back up to her face. "You and Carlos were there, and I won."

"Did we fight him, then?" he asked with interest. Phryn shook her head, the smile on her face becoming more introspective.

"No. I fought him. But I was running when you did appear." She sighed her concern. "I've got to get to the point where I don't have to rely on you two to stop the panic reaction." She paused and cocked her head toward the closed door. Trent half turned and listened, then opened it, to let Carlos, wearing only his tight jeans, shamble in, coffee in hand. Glancing from him to Trent, fully dressed, she wondered for a moment what they had worn to sleep, then felt a flush rise up on her cheeks as she remembered the latter dreams.

Yawning the dark haired man sat down where Trent had been, asking, "Well, it this private or can anyone join?" Trent carefully sat on the other side as Phryn, to cover her momentary confusion, answered teasingly, "Come on in. Take a seat. Oh, you can't. You already have."

While Carlos drank his caffiene with bleary-eyed concentration, Trent continued his questioning. "Did you see his face, this time?" Phryn shook her head sadly.

"Right at the end, it was a mask, like you suggested, but when I went to pull it off," she shrugged, "He disappeared again."

"Who picked you up?" Carlos asked, punctuating the question with another yawn. With an apologetic grimace, Phryn nodded toward Trent.

"He was hiding behind Trent's face again." Her good mood was bleeding away under the questions. Whenever she had a bad day, Phryn would always have the same dream, trying to relive the attack in which some unknown assailant had raped and sodomized her before beating her and leaving her in an isolated place to die. She'd crawled half a mile to a road, with a broken leg and dislocated shoulder and had managed to get some passing motorist to pick her up. But she didn't remember. Post-traumatic amnesia, they called it.

However, her subconscious did remember, but, infuriatingly enough, it refused to show her the perpetrator, covering his identity in a parade of short, slight, fair-haired men. Since she'd started working out in the Thunder Karate dojo, that had been Trent, most often. But when the attack came, it was always the same faceless monster.

A few months ago, however, Trent realized that while Phryn was holding her own in the class, she literally couldn't fight against a man, and especially not against him. He'd asked Carlos for help and since then, had been giving them private lessons, in a class of two students. As she gained confidence in the exercises with Carlos as partner, a good deal of her automatic fear engendered by Trent's presence had subsided. The most pleasant result of this was that, more and more often, Phryn would turn and fight off her nightmare. But she still never saw his face.

"You know," Trent mused thoughtfully, "That's an interesting way to put it. Hiding behind my face. Carlos!" he shifted to face the other man across the bed. "Maybe the attacker wasn't the person that Phryn trusted, but someone protected by him?" Carlos shrugged.

"I'm not going to start thinking until I've got something more than a few sips of coffee inside me," he confessed.

With a snort of laughter, Phryn kicked at him from under the top sheet. "Well, if you two will leave so I can get dressed, I'll make us up some pancakes before church." With that, they went out, Trent still looking thoughtful over his last idea.

Wearing a pair of sweat pants, Phryn pulled out her griddle, putting it over the flames to heat and started mixing up the ingredients for her mother's homemade pancakes. "Oh, Trent, you've reminded me. I'm going to be out of town the last of next week. Boss's son is coming home from the Europe end of things and Boss wants me to go down to Austin and do some headhunting at UT."

Watching her pour the thick liquid onto the hot metal, Trent sat at the bar drinking his coffee. He asked, "Shouldn't you be here to find out what's going on with the European interests?" Phryn shrugged, not concentrating on anything except not making a mess.

"What reminds you?" Carlos asked, suddenly alert. Phryn froze at the tone of his question, the batter bowl poised to pour another cake and she regarded him curiously.

"What?"

"You said, that Trent reminded you," he reminded them. "How? What did he say?" Phryn finished pouring the batter and lowered the heavy bowl to the counter, wiping her hands on a towel.

"I don't know. It was just a figure of speach." But now Trent was wondering as well.

Without looking up at her, he asked, "What does your Boss's son look like, Phryn?" She leaned her back against the counter and crossed her arms across her chest, thinking it over. With a small laugh, she finally confessed, "You know. I don't remember. I only met him the once, just before he left for Europe," She sat on the stool across from them. "It's funny, he used to have a picture of his son in his office, in some kind of uniform, but I don't remember seeing it recently and I just can't remember." Giving the blonde man an apologetic smile, she shrugged and added, "I guess that's another memory lost in the attack."

"Whoa, whoa. What do you mean, 'lost in the attack'?" Carlos asked, waving his hand for attention. Phryn straightened and turned, picking up the spatula. Glancing at him over her shoulder, she flipped the first of the johnnycakes.

"I thought you knew. The reason I was at the lab so late that night is because we'd all been invited to a going away party for Robert, and I'd had to leave something cooking in order to get ready. Then, after I left the festivities, I went back to the lab to check on it."

"Can I do anything to help, Phryn?" Trent asked, and Phryn had the impression that he was giving Carlos a hard look behind her back.

"Yeah, if you would get the plates out from under that counter there. And Carlos, could you get the orange juice out? There should be some syrup in the fridge, as well." Any more questions were lost in the bustle of breakfast. Phryn was just as glad. She'd been worried that they might have asked her about the rest of the dreams she'd had. And most of those had been very good indeed. The next time Mary and Bo asked her to go out with them, she'd have to refuse politely. She had a strong suspicion that she still didn't swing that way. Looking up and finding Trent's considering look on her, she blushed hotly and then looked back down at her plate in confusion as Carlos added his own raised eyebrow.