A Hero For Hire: Chapter Sixteen - Nineteen *FFY Sequel*

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Subject: A Hero For Hire: Chapter Sixteen - Nineteen *FFY Sequel*
Posted By: OKDeanna - ezOP
Posts: 279
Posted At: (10/19/02 7:53 am)
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Chapter Sixteen

Luis watched several different emotions play across Sheridan's face and couldn't help wondering what was going on behind those beautiful blue eyes of hers. His dreams had been real and he knew without a doubt that the feelings he felt in them were real too. He didn't remember falling in love with her, but he did remember being in love with her. He could only hope this was a sign that the rest of his memories would return as well.

The doctors had told him he may never get his memory back, had made it seem as if it were almost impossible, but Luis had never felt they were right. He'd always known deep down that his memory would return and as he stared at the beautiful woman in his arms, he knew all his memory had been waiting for was for something to trigger it

And something had, he thought, his lips pulling into a wide smile as he continued to wait for Sheridan's response. Holding her in his arms last night and falling asleep to the sound of her breathing was something he had remembered. He didn't remember doing it, but he remembered the peaceful feeling her breathing had caused within him and he knew feeling that way last night was responsible for his dreams that he now knew for a fact were memories.

"Sher?" Luis asked tilting his head to the side as he studied her. "Say something? I mean, it did happen, right? We were in that alcove? That current did separate us? Right?"

She nodded, tears blinding her eyes, then reached up and laid her palm flat against his cheek, smiling into his eyes as one tear finally slipped free from hers. "Yes, Luis, it really happened. We were really there."

Luis drew in a deep breath then used the pad of his thumbs to brush the tears from Sheridan's cheeks, his lips pulling into a smile at the sight of hers. "I knew we must have been there, the dream had been too vivid for it to just have been my imagination, but…but I needed to hear you say it was real. I needed to hear you say it really happened."

"It was real." She said, giving her head a quick shake, as if she almost didn't believe it was happening, before finally jumping up in the bed, onto her knees, and throwing her arms around his neck. "Oh my god, you remembered something, Luis! You actually remembered something!"

"I remembered you." He replied, reaching up to brush his hand through her soft blond curls. "I remembered you kissing me. Tempting me. And I remembered telling you that I loved you and you saying it back to me. But most of all…"

He let his voice trail off and he smiled as she pulled back to look at him and gently prodded him to answer. "Most of all what?"

"Most of all I remembered the feelings." He whispered, his eyes locked onto hers. "I remembered the feelings I felt…" He paused to draw in a breath of air. "…for you."

* * * * *

Sheridan knew if she were to somehow time her heart rate she would find that it was beating at ten times its normal pace, but she couldn't bring herself to look away from the intensity in Luis' amber brown eyes long enough to find out for sure. Not that she would have anyway. She didn't need a clock or watch to tell her how fast her heart was actually beating. She already knew. She could feel it pounding against her ribcage with every second that passed and the more time that went by the faster her heart began beating until finally it caused her to gasp aloud.

"Sheridan?" Luis asked his voice suddenly sounding uncertain.

"You remember how you felt about me?" She questioned her eyes searching his. "You remember…you remember loving me?"

He nodded. "Yes. I don't remember falling in love with you, but I remember how it felt being in love with you."

"How did it feel?" She asked her eyes glued to his as she waited for his answer.

"Like I was alive." He replied his fingers digging into her curls. "It felt like I was alive."

And then he smiled. That sexy wide smile that she never thought she would see again, but had dreamed of every night for the four months following the car accident. The smile that right now caused her heart to stop beating and the air to leave her lungs again. The smile that -

That was as far as her thoughts got because Luis' head suddenly began to descend toward hers and his lips suddenly closed over her own. As he gently began to caress her lips, her eyelids fell shut and a second later, as the feelings inside of her began to overwhelm her and fast overtake her thoughts, a small moan escaped her lips.

They had kissed last night and it had been more than wonderful, but there was something different about the kiss he was giving her now. It held something the previous kiss hadn't, an emotion she was too afraid to name for fear she would be wrong. For fear she would wake up and this moment, this wonderful moment, would have been nothing more than just another dream. Another dream that did not come true.

But as he continued to kiss her, she realized she wasn't dreaming. The kiss he was giving her was real as was the emotions she could feel inside it. Behind it. She pulled back with a gasp and as her eyes met his, she knew. He really did remember. He really did remember how he felt about her. The evidence had been in his kiss, but even if it hadn't, she would have recognized it in his eyes. She knew that look. She had dreamed about seeing that look on more than one night over the last four months, every night actually, and seeing it now was more than she could have hoped for.

He remembered. He may not remember everything, but just knowing he remembered something about them was enough for her. It was enough because it gave her hope. Hope that the rest of his memory would soon return.

Sheridan opened her mouth to say something and break the silence suddenly surrounding them, but was cutoff by the sound of Luis' stomach growling. Luis shook his head, a rueful smirk playing across his lips, and she couldn't help but laugh. "I think my stomach just woke up." She laughed again then sighed as moved his hand from her hair back to her face, lightly trailing his knuckles across her cheek. "Why don't you go take a shower while I go cook us some breakfast and then…and then maybe we can talk some more about what I dreamed?"

She nodded, her eyes not moving from his. "You going to cook an omelet?"

One side of his mouth quirked upward and caused her heart to turn over in her chest. "How did you know that?"

"Lucky guess." She replied throwing back the covers and sliding out of bed. "You always were a good cook. I guess there are some things you just never forget."

She heard him draw in a sharp breath then shook her head. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded, Luis. I really didn't."

"It's okay." He whispered, turning and lowering his feet to the floor. He crossed to the door, but turned back to her before walking through it. She drew in her own sharp breath at the serious look in his eyes. "My mind may not have remembered you, Sheridan, but it never forgot you. That I know for a fact. You were always there. I just didn't know where to look. Until now."

He smiled at her then and she had to place a hand against the wall beside her in order to keep herself standing at the sight of it. "Enjoy your shower." He winked and then he was gone, leaving her to stare after him, smiling from ear to ear. He remembered. He really remembered.

* * * * *

Julian ran a hand over his face then glanced around nervously, his father's words still playing in his ears. He knew he was right. That they had to kill Luis, but his stomach was in knots just thinking about it. He'd already set things in gear to take care of it and as soon as Drake arrived to meet him, they would discuss his plan for it.

But he hated having to do it though. He hated having to call Drake in. The last time he'd had to use him, almost fifteen years ago, was enough to last him ten lifetimes. Granted, they hadn't actually killed anyone, but he supposed faking two deaths and stealing bodies from the morgue to cover it up and make it look as if they had killed someone was enough. Damn, he thought running a hand over his face his eyes darting back and forth along the wharf, if only he'd had more stomach back then. If he had none of this would be happening now.

Why hadn't he just done what his father ordered him to do and just killed Martin and Antonio? So what if he'd been squeamish and had worried about getting caught. Prison sure as hell beat the alternative he was faced with now. If his father learned what he had done, protected the men he had ordered him to kill then faked their deaths so he would believe they were really dead, he would be enraged. And Julian knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't even blink at having his own son killed, especially if he learned he had betrayed him.

Julian swallowed hard. He still was squeamish about planning Luis' death, but he had no choice about it anymore. Father was right. If Luis got his memory back and continued his quest to find out what happened to his father and brother then not only could it bring down the house of Crane, but it could very well get Julian himself killed. Alistair would protect himself at all costs and he wouldn't hesitate to kill his own son to do it.

No, Luis had to die. He had no choice. He couldn't risk his father finding out that he had pulled a fast one on him. He'd made sure Martin and Antonio disappeared and would never return to Harmony, but he knew if his father were to learn that, he would go to the ends of the earth to search for the man that could destroy him and he'd kill anyone that got in his way.

"Never thought I'd have to see you again." A gruff voice said from behind him causing him to twirl around and almost lose his balance. The other man smirked. "Same old, Julian. Still as jumpy as ever."

"Yeah well you would be too if you were in my shoes." Julian shot back, taking a step closer to the man and glancing around to make sure no one would see them together. "It seems the past has come back to haunt us and the only way to take care of it, is to get rid of the threat."

Drake arched one dark brow then smiled. "So who do we have to knock off? For real I assume from the way you are talking."

Julian nodded. "The son and brother of men we both know well. He was digging into the past and our previous plan failed to work. The only alternative we have is to kill him before he finds out what happened and resumes his search."

"When do you want to do it?"

"Tonight." Julian choked out. "Luis Lopez-Fitzgerald must die tonight. If he doesn't then both our lives will be on the line."

Chapter Seventeen

"You remember how you felt about me?" Sheridan questioned, her blue eyes searching his. "You remember…you remember loving me?"

He nodded. "Yes. I don't remember falling in love with you, but I remember how it felt being in love with you."

"How did it feel?" She asked anticipation clear in her voice and her eyes..

"Like I was alive." He replied, replied reaching out a hand and digging his fingers into her soft golden curls. "It felt like I was alive."

Truer words had never been spoken, Luis thought with a grin as he picked up the coffee pot and poured himself a cup. He couldn't recall ever being as happy as he felt right now. Granted most of his memories was still locked behind some door in his mind, but even if they weren't he'd still feel the same way. There was nothing in the world like looking into Sheridan's blue eyes and seeing her break out into a one of a kind smile. He couldn't think of anything more beautiful than seeing the happiness on her face as she realized he truly did remember how it to love her, to be in love with her.

He'd known since he woke up in that Paris hospital that his memory would return and a part of him - the unconscious part of him - had known Sheridan was the key to making it happen. That had to be one of the reasons he hadn't been able to do what Roger and Pierre told him he'd agreed to do. He'd known Sheridan was someone important to him even though he couldn't really remember her and that was the reason he hadn't been able to pull that trigger and end her life. He'd somehow instinctively known that by ending her life, he would also end his own. How he knew that he didn't know. He just he knew had.

Luis brought the cup of coffee to his lips and took in a nice healthy sip before sitting the mug back onto the table and beginning to mix the ingredients for the omelets he wanted to make. He found it strange that he could remember how to make an omelet so clearly yet he had no clue as to where he learned how to make them. He assumed it was his mother that taught him how, but he couldn't be for sure. He supposed it could have been his fath -

"Papa," Antonio began in an excited voice. "Can Luis and I help you make the omelets for Mama?"

Luis looked up as his brother said his name then realizing his father looked as if he might agree, he jumped up from the table and hurried to his father's side. "Can we Papa? Can we help you surprise Mama?"

His father nodded. "You can help and who knows maybe one of you will want to become a famous chef someday!"

Antonio and Luis looked at each other then simultaneously shook their heads.

"I want to be a lawyer like Aunt Maria, Papa." Luis said glancing from his brother back to his father. "Antonio wants to be an FBI Agent. At least that's what he says this week. Last week it was a fireman!"

"Hey!" Antonio yelled, shoving him slightly. "If you can be a lawyer, I can be an FBI Agent!"

"I never said you couldn't! All I said -"

"You did so say it! You made it sound like -"

"Boys!" Their father admonished. "If you don't quiet down you're going to wake Mama and then we won't be able to surprise her. Now why don't you two go grab the eggs and milk out of the refrigerator while I gather the other things we'll need?"

"Okay Papa!" Luis said excitement in his voice. "I'll get the eggs!"

As the memory faded a sharp pain hit his head and Luis had to reach out and grip the counter in front of him in order to stay on his feet. His eyes felt shut as the pain in his temples grew and one of his hands automatically lifted from its station on the counter to try and alleviate the pounding in his head. It didn't work.

Opening his eyes, he quickly searched the cabinets for some aspirin and cursed when he found none. He turned ready to head to the bathroom to ask Sheridan where she kept them when all of the sudden a patch of dizziness hit him and he all but fell into one of the kitchen chairs.

Placing his head between his knees, he quickly drew in several deep breaths, praying the pain would go away. It did, but it took a good five minutes and by the time it disappeared and he was back on his feet again, Sheridan appeared in the kitchen doorway looking completely refreshed, her face aglow with happiness. Happiness that faded the moment her eyes fell on him. "Luis? What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He replied, shaking his head. "I just got a little headache is all. I think it's from not eating."

That could be true, Luis thought ignoring the guilt that hit his conscience as the lie rolled past his tongue. But even if it wasn't, which he seriously doubted that it was, the last thing Sheridan needed was to start worrying about him. Right? They already had more than enough to deal with already and the pain was gone now so there was no use dwelling on it anyway.

"If nothing is wrong then why do you look so pale?" She asked reaching out a hand to touch her palm to his forehead. "You don't have a fever, but -"

"I'm fine, Sher." Luis said, forcing a smile onto his face as he reached up and captured her hand with his, pulling it away from his face. "You don't have to worry about me. I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" She asked searching his eyes. "You sound fine, but when I walked in I could have sworn -"

Luis widened his smile. "Right before you walked in, I had another memory."

"You did!"

He nodded. "Of my father and brother. We were in a kitchen cooking omelets." He looked around then froze as a sudden thought occurred to him. "You know what? If I didn't know any better I'd swear we were right here in this kitchen."

Here?" Sheridan asked surprise lighting her voice. "You think you and your father and brother were in this kitchen?"

Luis looked around again then nodded and turned back to meet her eyes. "Yeah I do. It looked a little different in my memory, but the layout is the same. Even the window behind us and the sunlight streaming in through it is the same."

"But I would know if you had lived here." She replied, her gaze making the same path his had a moment before. "I mean granted I left for Paris when I was eleven, but I would have known if you lived on the grounds." She shook her head then met his eyes again. "How old were you when you and your brother helped make omelets?"

Luis closed his eyes for a second, replaying the memory in his mind, then finally reopened his eyes and focused them on the woman standing in front of him. "I think I was about eleven too. My brother was fourteen. I think. I'm not really sure, but it seems like that was the year…" He broke off as another memory hit him then all at once he knew he'd been right.

"That was the year what?" Sheridan questioned.

Luis looked at her for a moment then blurted out what he knew to be true. "That was the year your father kicked us out. It was also the year my father…the year my father disappeared."

Chapter Eighteen

As soon as the words left his lips, every trace of color in Sheridan's face fled. She was almost certain that any moment now she was going to pass out. In fact, if she hadn't reached out to grab the edge of a nearby countertop she was almost positive she would have fallen. How could she have forgotten? How could she have -

"Sheridan?" Luis fingers gently touched her arm, causing her to jump, and him to arch his brows in surprise. "What is it? What's wrong?"

She swallowed hard then let Luis guide her into one of the straight back wooden chairs surrounding her kitchen table. Tears began to prick her eyes and she quickly tried to blink them back, but apparently she wasn't fast enough because Luis saw them. "What's going on, Sheridan? Why are you crying?"

"The day of the car accident…that morning…" She broke off and searched his eyes then shook her head when she saw no hint of recognition inside them. "You don't remember, do you? You don't remember what I told you."

He shook his head then frowned. "I don't remember anything that happened the day of the accident."

She nodded then closed her eyes. They shot back open when Luis laid a hand against her cheek, his thumb lightly wiping away her silent tears. "Tell me what I don't remember. Tell me why you're so upset."

She tried to look away and avert her eyes from his inquisitive stare, but then his hand moved from her cheek to her chin and she suddenly found herself unable to move. She sighed then softly whispered, "I don't think I can tell you the reason. It was hard enough getting it out the first time."

"Try." He replied, his voice as low and soft as hers had been mere seconds before. "Maybe it won't be as hard since you already told me once before."

"And maybe it will be worse." She muttered under her breath, earning her another frown from Luis. He opened his mouth to say something, but her fingers covered his lips before he could. "I'll tell you just…can we go into the living room? This isn't something I want to tell you in a kitchen."

The moment she lowered her hand from Luis' lips, his hand captured it and he tucked it safely inside his own. A second later, he helped her to stand and together they made their way into the living room toward the same couch they had sat at four months ago when she first told him of the nightmares that had plagued her childhood and ate at her insides.

As she lowered herself down onto the couch, her stomach muscles tightened with nervousness and fear. How would Luis react to the news that she had possibly killed someone as a child? He didn't have all his memories back yet so there was no telling how he was going to react to hearing that she had been there the night his father disappeared. Would his reaction drastically change from the first time she'd told him?

She felt the couch cushions shift to accommodate Luis' weight and unable to help herself she turned her head to meet his eyes. They were filled with love, love that four months ago she never thought she would see again. But would that love still be there once she told him what she knew? What she'd done? She didn't know and for the second time in her life, she was terrified to find out.

But she wasn't going to let fear stop her from telling him. Besides, he already knew so what she was going to say wasn't exactly new information. He just couldn't remember it right now. Drawing in a deep courage filled breath of air, Sheridan began to talk. "Most of my life I've been plagued by nightmares. They started when I was eleven, the night before my father sent me to live in Paris. The same night your father disappeared."

She searched his eyes for any hint of recognition and when she saw none she continued. "There are some parts I don't really remember, but the parts I do have always terrified me."

She shivered as the images she'd somehow forgotten over the last few months once again began to play. When Luis reached out to touch her, she shook her head. His arm immediately fell back to his side. "I was supposed to be in bed because the next day Ivy was going to take me shopping for a new dress. I think I was going to go to a birthday party or something, but I have no idea whose birthday it could have been because I didn't have any friends when I was growing up."

"That must have been lonely." Luis stated, reaching out a hand and linking their fingers. "I can't imagine what I would have done if I hadn't had…"

"If you hadn't had what?" She asked tilting her head to the side. When he didn't answer immediately, she realized he more than likely hadn't even heard her ask the question. He seemed to be lost inside himself. "Luis?"

He blinked then shook his head, wonder and amazement present in his eyes. "I was just remembering some of my childhood. How Antonio, Hank, and I used to play basketball at the Youth Center. My father worked there on the weekends, spending time with kids that didn't have a dad, and we always used to go with him so we could play with kids from school. Man, Papa really loved that place. I think that's a lot of the reason why I accepted the job as director. It made me feel closer to him. Closer to him and my brother actually."

Luis shook his head again the smiled. "I didn't mean to interrupt you. I just… When you said your childhood was lonely I just -"

"It's okay." She whispered, squeezing his hand lightly. "You remembered something."

Something else about his father, Sheridan thought feeling her insides tighten even more. How on earth could she tell him that her father pulled a gun on his that night? That right before she'd passed out from shock she'd heard what sounded like a gunshot?

"Finish what you were saying." Luis replied, returning the squeeze she'd given him with one of his own. "I want to hear what else you remember about that night."

She nodded then drew in another breath. "I was supposed to be in bed, but instead I was playing with one of the few toys I owned. I couldn't get it to open for some reason so I snuck downstairs and went into the living room. I knew my father kept a letter opener on his desk and I thought I could use it to get my toy to open. I had just grabbed it and was just about to try to get my toy open when I heard my father's voice. I was scared because I knew he'd be really upset that I wasn't in bed so I ran to the other side of the room and hid behind a curtain."

"I barely made it behind the curtain before my father walked into the room and went to his desk. A few second later, he picked up the phone and called someone."

"Who did he call?" Luis asked, his voice low, almost as if he knew what was coming. She opened her mouth to answer him, but he ended up answering for her. "He called my father, didn't he?"

"Yes."

Luis nodded once then inclined his head slightly as he asked, "Do you know what your father said?"

Her father's angry voice as well as the threatening words he'd spoken that night instantly filled her head and before she knew it, they were tumbling out of her mouth. "He told your father he should have listened. I don't know about what, but my father was really angry about whatever it was and he ordered your father to come to the house that night. My father told him if he didn't then he'd make life for him and his family a living hell. Your father agreed to come and my father told him to take the back entrance. My father told him he'd be in the living room…waiting."

She shook her head as her father's icy laugh filled her eardrums then quickly pulled her hand away from Luis' and stood. The coldness of her father's laugh, combined with the fear she'd felt upon hearing it, brought back every sensation she had felt that night and caused a thousand shivers to dance along her spine. She could feel every nuisance of fear she'd felt that night. Hear every beat of her heart as it pounded against her ribcage. Her breathing was no longer even as it had been before either. It was coming shorter, much as it had that night.

"Sheridan?" Luis questioned, his concern filled voice as well as the gentle hand he laid on her right shoulder causing her to jump. "Are you okay?"

She closed her eyes, willing herself to calm down and focus on relaying the events of that night to Luis, but before she could the image she had spent the better part of seventeen years trying to forget barged its way inside her thoughts and refused to budge. She was eleven years old again. Standing in the living room of the mansion. Holding a red handled letter opener. Watching in complete and utter horror as the sharp blade protruded into the chest of the man standing in front of her.

Blood stained the front of the his blue and green plaid shirt and partially covered the handle of the letter opener she held, but it was the blood covering the tips of her fingers that caused her to pull her hand away and scream. A second later, strong hands wrapped around both of her upper arms and it took her a full minute to realize they belonged to Luis, but once she did all the fear that had seemed to overtake her entire body vanished and with it seemed to go every ounce of energy she possessed.

"I think you better sit down." Luis stated cutting into her thoughts. "You're as white as a sheet!"

She drew in a sharp breath and forced herself not to think of the image he unknowingly called up with his words, but it was no use. The image still came. The body. The blood. The sheet. Her hands. Everything. Everything including the words her father spoke.

"What have you done, Sheridan, what have you done?"

"I didn't mean to do it!" She cried, her eyes unable to look away from the scene in front of her. "I didn't mean to hurt the man!"

"Yes, you did." He accused, his voice eerily calm. "Yes you did."

No! Her mind screamed. She didn't! She didn't mean to hurt the man! She didn't. Her eyes strayed to the body lying on the floor at her feet. It was draped with a white sheet to block her view of the man's face, but it couldn't block her view of the blood. She fell to her knees at the sight of it and unable to stop herself, she reached out a trembling hand. Blood immediately covered her fingers and palm the moment she touched the crimson stain, but it was the words of her father that broke the sudden silence in the room. "You’re a wicked, wicked girl, Sheridan. No one will ever love you."

"I'm so sorry." She whispered softly, silent tears falling from her eyes. "I didn't mean to do it. I didn't mean to kill him. I didn't mean to."

"Yes you did." Her father accused again. "Yes you did."

* * * * *

"Dammit!" Alistair Crane yelled, slamming his clenched fist down onto the top of the cherry wood desk in front of him, his icy blue eyes immediately narrowing on his weak excuse for a son. "I should have those damn psychiatrists fired! After all that money we paid them to convince her that night never happened, she still knows it did. She might not know everything that happened, but she knows enough to be dangerous, Julian. Even with Luis dead, she'll still be a threat to us."

Julian blanched at the cold hatred he heard in his father's voice. He knew exactly what his father meant by it, but he found himself asking the question anyway. "Father, surely you don't mean…?"

Alistair smiled and Julian shivered. "We should have taken care of it years ago. I would have had Agent Freeman not convinced me to use the psychiatrists in Paris. I should have known better than to trust a fed, even if he is on my payroll." Alistair shook his head then swiveled his chair around to stare out at the cottage a few yards away. "Sheridan was devastated when she thought Luis died, but she won't be this time."

Julian swallowed hard then shut his eyes tight as his father voiced the words he'd always prayed he'd never have to hear. "This time Sheridan will die with him. No fake bruises or scratches. No masked pulse. No fake death. This time Luis will die for real and, unfortunately, so will Sheridan."

Chapter Nineteen

As he made his way out of the mansion, Julian cast his eyes toward the cottage that set off in the distance. He and Sheridan may not get along well, but she was still his sister. How on earth could he possibly order her to be killed? He'd never be able to live with himself if he followed his father's orders, but if he didn't then he wouldn't be able to live period. His father would see to that.

Julian shook his head then slowly began to walk along the grounds. He knew his father had cameras installed everywhere and where he didn't have cameras he had microphones, but Julian knew of one place that his father forgot about and that was where he was heading now. He needed privacy for what he was about to do, especially from his father.

The moment he entered the gardener's shed, Julian did a quick check of the room to make sure his father hadn't installed something without telling him and let out a relieved breath when he found nothing out of the ordinary.

Pulling the cellphone from the inside jacket pocket of his suit coat, Julian began to punch in a familiar set of numbers. When he was done, he placed the phone up to his ear and waited for the person he was calling to pick up. It didn't take long.

"Agent Freeman." The voice on the other end of the line called out.

Julian swallowed hard then forced the words past the cotton in his mouth. "It's Julian."

"What do you want?" Hal sneered in disgust. "I thought you weren't going to call me anymore. I thought I was done with you two."

"There's been a change of plans." Julian muttered, making sure to keep an eye out for anyone that was possibly lurking around the shed. "You're still in Boston, right?"

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I'm going to come to Harmony." Hal replied, the hatred in his voice clear. "I'm through with you. I told you that the last time. I thought you understood and that was the reason you gave me back the evidence your father had on me."

"Look I don't have time to explain, but…" Julian knew what he was about to say could very likely get him killed, but he also knew he had no choice. If he didn't tell Hal what was going on then he would have no choice to do what his father wanted and that just wasn't something he was willing to do anymore. Hell, if he were honest with himself he'd admit he'd never wanted to do it in the first place. "Luis has returned to Harmony and father has ordered him to be killed. Drake is already here."

"And this concerns me how?"

Julian drew in another breath. "It concerns you because my father just ordered me to kill Sheridan as well."

Hal muttered a curse and even before he said the words, Julian knew he would come. "Meet me on the wharf in an hour. And Julian…this had better not be some trick."

Static immediately sounded in his ear, but Julian scarcely noticed it. He was too busy breathing a sigh of relief. He knew it was dangerous for him to go against his father, but there was absolutely no way he would kill his own sister. He just wasn't that evil.

* * * * *

Handing Sheridan the glass of ice water he'd fixed for her, Luis lowered himself down onto the cushions beside her. She still looked pale to him, but she kept saying she was fine. Somehow he knew she wasn't though. She was scared. He could see it in her eyes. Did she really think she had killed someone?

He shook his head. There was no way she had killed a man. No way. "Sheridan, do you…do you remember anything else about that night?"

She frowned then lifted the glass to her lips and took a small sip before finally whispering an answer to his question. "No. I told you everything I know. Everything I remember."

"There are pieces missing." He said, reaching out to take the glass from her when her hand started to shake. "I don't buy for one minute that you killed someone. I just can't see that. You were only eleven."

"You don't think an eleven year old can kill someone?" She asked quietly, her eyes focused on the hands now clasped in her lap. "You hear it in the news all the time nowadays."

Luis shook his head then lifted his hand and placed his right index finger under her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. "I know kids can kill, but we're not talking about just any kid here. We're talking about you. I don't know what happened that night. I wish to god I did, but I know you and I know whatever happened had nothing to do with you killing someone. Maybe you injured the man, but there is no way you killed him."

She held his eyes, her blue eyes searching his brown, but less than a fraction of a second later, she averted them and slowly got to her feet. "I think I'm going to go splash some cold water on my face."

He closed his eyes, hating the fact that she was suddenly shutting him out, but when he opened them again the only thing he said was, "Alright. Take your time."

She gave him a half smile and then she was turning around and walking away from him. A second later, she walked into the bedroom and then the only thing he heard was the creak of the bathroom door as she softly closed it.

Letting his body fall back against the couch, Luis released a heavy sigh then once again shut his eyes. Vivid images immediately entered his mind, but they definitely weren't images he wanted to see. In fact, he'd do anything to make them stop.

Ever since Sheridan had told him what she remembered, his mind had been conjuring up the images of what she had witnessed. He pictured her as an eleven-year-old little girl. Frightened about what she'd seen and heard. Hiding from her father for fear she would get into trouble. Watching in horror as the letter opener she held in her hand struck the man in the chest. But most of all, he kept seeing the blood. The blood on her hands. The blood on the man's chest. The blood seeping through the sheet.

The worst though was the blood he could see pooling around the lifeless body of his father. She hadn't told him that. She hadn't even seen that, but that's what his mind kept seeing. He kept seeing his father. Dead.

He forced his eyes back open then quickly got to his feet, the images in his mind changing from one's he never saw to one's he had. His father and mother. Dancing. In the very room he was currently standing in.

He shifted his eyes toward the stone fireplace and the present images were immediately replaced with one's from the past. His parents were smiling. Pure joy clear on both their faces. He was sitting in a chair off to the side. Antonio was standing in the doorway to the kitchen. Theresa, Miguel, and Paloma were all three dancing around on the other side of the room. They had all been so happy. Every one of them.

But two weeks later, everything had changed. His whole world had crumbled and life as he knew it had forever been changed.

He shook his head again. Clearing it of the images inside. Then turned his attention to the rest of the cottage. Nothing even remotely resembled the way it looked when they had lived there. It had been completely remodeled. Made to look as if no one but a Crane had lived inside its walls. Why would they feel the need to remodel the cottage? Why would they go to that much trouble? To hide the fact that someone other than a Crane had lived there? Or was it because they wanted to hide something else? Something that, perhaps, was connected to the night his father disappeared?

Moving his eyes about the cottage, roaming them over the walls and fixtures, he tried to visualize what they could have been trying to cover up. Nothing stood out to him, but his instincts said the answers were there. Before he knew what he was doing, he was inspecting every wall in the living room. He didn't see anything out of the ordinary though. At least not until he got to the small wall that rested between the window and the front door.

He squinted his eyes, trying to figure out if they were just playing tricks on him, but when he raised his hand and placed his finger over the spot that had claimed his attention, he felt it. A small indention. About the size of…a bullet hole.

To Be Continued...

Author of over 40 fan fiction stories, some of which include:
Too Hot To Handle, Playing With Fire, Guarding Sheridan, An Affair Of The Heart, and The Thing Called Love

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Replies

A Hero For Hire: Prologue - Chapter Seven FFY Sequel	OKDeanna	10/19/02 7:40 am
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A Hero For Hire: Chapter Twenty-Twenty-Five FFY Sequel	OKDeanna	10/19/02 8:03 am
A Hero For Hire: Chapter Twenty-Six FFY Sequel	OKDeanna	8/19/03 7:34 pm
A Hero For Hire: Chapter Twenty-Seven FFY Sequel	OKDeanna	8/24/03 1:40 pm
A Hero For Hire: Chapter Twenty-Eight FFY Sequel	OKDeanna	9/6/03 8:36 am

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