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   Liz knew he was right behind her. Normally, it wouldn't be hard for everyone in the run down bar to notice someone new walking in the door, but Liz knew her target too well. He could walk into a room stark naked, and no one would ever see him, unless he wanted them too. Liz smiled, as she thought about what she'd do with that little trick.

   “Locke...”, the man whispered.

   Rolling her eyes, Liz motioned to the chair across from her. “Have a seat, will you?”

   The man grinned slightly, and moved over towards the chair. “I find it funny that no matter how well I hide, you're never frightened by me.”

   Liz shook her head, and toyed with her drink. “You scare me bout as much as a house cat. Something pathetic trying to be mysterious.” Finishing the drink, she set it down on the table roughly. “What's there to be afraid of? Whatcha going to do, rub up against me?”

   “Hardly.”

   “Pity.” Liz smiled. He was playing her little game, as he always did.

   “The unknown is far more terrifying than anything I could ever do to you. The pity is that you haven't the capacity to accept that the universe expands beyond your own feeble mental ability.”

   “Here we go, hosing the decks down with testosterone. Really, do you have to be so male?”

   “Need you bring sex into it at all?”

   Liz leaned towards him. “Babe, I always bring sex into it.” Liz licked her lips. “Then again, you're the one making the assumptions, and posturing. If your toned it down a bit, maybe we could actually get somewhere?”

   “Certainly.” The man grabbed her shot glass, and started playing with it. Liz looked at him annoyed, but he obviously didn't care. “Tell me, what do you know of . . . the situation?”

   Wanting to laugh at the melodrama unfolding before her, she leaned back in her chair. “It's always 'a situation' with you, isn't it? What an exciting life you must lead. Being told where to go, who to kill.” Liz paused, as a rather drunk man bumped into their table. He muttered an apology that must have been at least hundred proof, and stumbled off. Liz leaned across the table. “Tell me, do they pick your socks for you too?”

   Looking remotely surprised, the man leaned in close to her. She could feel his breath on her cheek. It felt oddly cold. “My socks are none of your concern. My life is my own.”

   Smiling, Liz dropped her voice to just above a whisper. “The only time I'm concerned with clothing is when it's not on the floor.” Leaning back, Liz looked him over once more. “I'd hardly say your life is your own.”

   Slightly perturbed, the man closed his eyes. “I make it what I choose, as such, it is my own. I understand my destiny . . .” He opened his eyes, and started at her with an icy gaze. “. . . something none of your race can claim.”

   “It's funny you bring race into it. Part of me doubts you even know my heritage. Not that it matters.” Liz paused, considering her words. “Funny thing, destiny. You can't figure it out by looking into other people's crystal balls. Trust me, I know. I have no destiny, therefore, I know mine intimately. You, on the other hand, actually exist, so your destiny is as fluid as time itself. I highly doubt your associates tell you the whole truth . . . including what they know about your future.”

   
   The man chuckled, and started spinning Liz's shot glass. “My associates tell me far more than you know.” Before Liz could register movement, she felt his presence behind her, and heard his voice in her ear. “My friend . . . enough.” Liz shuddered, and nodded. “Posturing and showboating aside. We have business.” He took his seat again as he spoke. “As you can see, I am far more than I seem. As are you.” He paused, selecting his words deliberately. “I was instructed to talk to you, though I feel talking is your responsibility. I am here to listen.”

   Liz took a deep breath to compose herself, and swallowed hard. She hadn't expected this little trick of his. She wasn't sure how he did it, but she knew it was Overseer training. She knew he'd been trained, but she didn't know how, or in what skills. Now, she had a very good idea. That knowledge gave her some leverage over him, if she used it properly. “At least they've trained you better than some of the others.”

   The man raised an eyebrow. “For one who acts like she understands their organization, you demonstrate a clear lack of knowledge about the truth of who we are.”

   Liz knew she had to press her advantage, and break the verbal stalemate. Her eyes darkening, she looked right at the man, and spoke with a dark, low voice that had a force which seemed very unnatural coming from Liz. “Now, Praetorian, it's you who demonstrates a clear lack of knowledge. I'm here because your beloved Overseers agree with my master that you need to be . . . awoken. These past years, you've become a loose cannon.  They doubt your ability to function independently and complete their work on your own. You didn't bother to check much deeper into my background before this meeting. You found the connection to Jonathan Simon, but you didn't find out much more about him then public record. Once, long ago, you would have been much more thorough. Now, my dear Praetorian, you've become lax; secure in the knowledge that you're the only one who knows of the Grey, the Overseers, and the nature of the universe. You're not.” Liz smirked, and then took her shot glass, and started spinning it on her finger.

   His reaction was hard to gauge.  At first he seemed upset, though his intense scowl seemed to communicate concentration moreso than it did anger. Liz didn't care.  She had shocked him, and the shock had generated the response she wanted. Glancing around the bar, she noticed that for the entire conversation, no one had paid her any attention. She wasn't used to that. Before she could follow that train of thought, the room seemed to dim, and the sounds around her became hollow. She felt as if she were suddenly trapped inside a glass bottle. Then, before she could investigate this new sensation, it was over, and everything seemed perfectly normal. It took her a full seconds to register that the shot glass that had been spinning on her finger a moment before no longer existed. Liz glared at Caenus, angry he'd do something as flashy as that, and realizing she'd completely misread his reaction.
   “My abilities are as in control today as they have always been," the strange man said softly.  "Be sure your master remembers that it was I who sought the overseers, not they who sought me. I am in control of my own existence. If your master wishes another pawn in his little game so be it. I'll play the role as long as I must, but your will never again address me in such a manner.”

   “You are so thick, it's incredible! My master isn't playing a game. He's as much a pawn as you are! He works for the Overseers same as you do. I really can't believe how thickheaded you are. It's not your abilities anyone questions; it's your methodology. You're lazy, not out of practice, you twit.”

   “And you're far too confident for someone who cannot see more than an inch in front of her. This is besides the point. You mentioned Simon.”

   “Yes, I did.”

   “What concern is the private life of a telepathic serial killer to me? He's been incarcerated indefinitely, and the last I hear, that shallow projection he created was to be incarcerated with him.”

   Liz almost took offense at the remark, but then remembered that he was referring to Silvia, not to herself. Realizing there was only one way to get the reaction she wanted, Liz looked at him, her face devoid of emotion. “Kill me.”

   Caenus paused. Liz could see he was tempted. “I know better than that. I'm of no use to this particular mission without your help, and as such, I'm stuck with you. However, if you continue to belittle my methodology, I will gladly oblige.” He paused, and saw that she was still staring at him intently. “Tell me, have you ever been to hell? Because, I have . . . and I know they're reserving a room for you.”

   Liz's eyes narrowed. “I've been told home is where the heart is.”

   “In order for that to be true, one must first have a heart. Which is perhaps why I am homeless.”

   “How true. But no, I've not only gone to hell, I know it intimately. I was born there.”

   “That explains a lot. Now, enough of this. We are both professionals. What of the mission?”

   Liz looked at him blankly. “What mission?”

   Caenus was growing tired of the conversation. Liz could see he was getting annoyed, but she had to keep playing the game, till he gave in. “As a pawn in a game, I'm instructed on where to go. I was told to meet you. Obviously, I am to be sent somewhere for a purpose. What purpose?”

   “Thick as brick as usual. There's no mission. I'm here simply to give you information. I've been trying to do that since you showed up.”

   “Don't toy with me, bitch.”

   Liz felt the anger well up inside her. She knew how to get the result she wanted here, she could feel the future pulling her mind in the right direction, she felt the Sooni part of her screaming to be allowed to do what it did best. Knowing it was the only way, she let herself get angry.  Looking right into his eyes, she summoned all the anger she could. “The last person to call me a bitch died where they stood. As will you.”

   “Very well. I'll make a deal with you. You kill me now, or else you give greater respect to that which you can't understand.”

   “Deal.” The moment she said that, she struck. Her movements were swifter than even a full blooded Sooni, thanks to the Overseer training she, and Simon had experienced. She focused all her will into that one, single blow, and missed. It wasn't that she didn't hit him, she'd moved so fast that he'd had no time to react. She passed right through him.  He wasn't incorporeal, and he was definitely not a hologram.  It was simply as though the space that he occupied . . . didn't exist.  Having no time to react, Liz found herself on the floor in a very undignified position. She still had enough of her will focused that she was able to recover much quicker than anyone else would have been able to, but she still had, for the brief moment, been lying on the floor where she'd fully expected Caenus to have ended up.

   Caenus smirked at Liz, as she stared back with hatred. “You may be immortal, at least as far as this endeavor is concerned, but as you well see, I cannot be touched, unless I wish it.” Before Liz could realize what has happened, his voice was in her ear. “You make have been born in hell, but I was born in this.” It changed locations again, this time to her left. “Imagine a life lived in the focus you just demonstrated.” Again, he changed locations, this time, sitting at the bar, a few feet away. “Imagine the power.” Instantly, he was sitting in his original seat. “Imagine the loneliness.” For this entire demonstration, Liz had been standing perfectly still, noting his movements. He didn't move with great speed, like she did, instead he seemed to step out of existence in one place, and into existence in a different location. She made a note of that. “Do not dare, Lizbeth, to think that I am part of the Overseers' Flock.”

   “Well, there is more to you than meets the eye. You actually have a personality. What's more, you can be hurt which means you're still human. I like that.” Her pose was still rigid, but her anger was fading. She had to admit to herself that they were much alike. She made her decision, as she returned to the table. “Now, it's your turn to listen.”

   Liz took a deep breath, and started preparing herself. Her abilities were three fold; one came from her Sooni heritage, another from the Overseers, but the final came from Simon. It was by far the worst of the three. Looking directly into the Praetorian's steel blue eyes, Liz began. “No one's told you the full truth. Not even the Overseers. You, and your ability are a tool for them; your freedom an annoyance they tolerate. What you, and most have failed to see is the extent to their meddling. Because I happen to be nothing more than a shadow of existence, I can tell you, where others can't. They asked me to try to tie you down, rope you in, and get you to shape up. Because you earned a small shred of my respect, I'll do something more; I'll tell you the full extent of their meddling. However, because I was born in hell, I can't give you something, without taking something. I need you to let me touch you. No games, I promise. Oh, as a warning; this will be one of the most excruciating experiences of your life. However, you'll at least know.” Liz continued to look directly into his eyes.

   Without a word, without even a moment's contemplation, he held out his hand. “Very well.” Liz took a deep breath, and then grabbed Caenus's hand. In a moment, she saw his back arch, and his eyes clenched tightly. His mouth moved, as if he was trying to call out in pain. Liz felt him completely release all defense. She knew all too well what he was seeing, and experiencing, and she was sorry she had to share this with him. Very sorry in deed.

   Letting go of his hand, Liz stared down at the table. The Praetorian convulsed as he gasped for air, trying to breathe. Even before she looked up, Liz knew she'd changed him. When she finally looked at his face, shock overcame her. His eyes, which were once a brilliant blue, were now a bright crimson red, normally a sign of a Sooni who's lost complete control. A thick red tear ran slowly down his cheek, carving a gruesome scar in his face beneath his right eye. When the tear hit the table, it fizzled, and burned the table before evaporating, leaving a charred crater behind. Liz imagined that the heart The Praetorian sitting before her claimed to lack was much in the same state at this moment.

   “I . . . I didn't know.”

   Liz looked at her hand. “I assumed as much.”

   “Why? Why did you show this to me?” Caenus looked at her with bewilderment, shock, and rage flashing in his red eyes.

   “Simple. Because you, like myself, are nothing more than a tool. Tools deserve to know the intentions of those they are being wielded by. Plus, while I may be a cold, heartless bitch, I still occasionally try to do what's right.”

   “Thank you . . . .” Without warning, the room grew darker.  The seedy bar seemed to respond to his mental command as he was first cloaked by the fabric of space itself and was then enveloped by it, disappearing completely.  A single word was left lingering on the air, reverberating much as the sounds of the world had within her glass bottle when Caenus pulled his trick earlier.

        “. . .Simon.”

   “For now. Not forever. Bet on it.” With that, Liz got up and walked out of the bar, paying no heed to the shot glass still spinning on the table.