Justin collapsed on the bed with a sigh. "I didn't know learning self defense would be so hard." He scratched his stomach. No one was paying attention to him, except for JC, who handed him a bottle of water. Justin went right on grumbling. "Maybe it'd be more fun if Mr. Buff Scot wouldn't be so weird and Zen about it."

Chris turned the page of his magazine. "Tai Chi isn't exactly Zen, kid. Besides, Duncan could take you apart without breaking a sweat. He looked like he wanted to a couple times, too."

JC stroked Justin's hair to calm him down. "Duncan's just not used to you, J. His friend is nice, though, and. . . " He trailed off as he stared off into space.

Chris was nervous. Not because of the pyro test, he'd seen hundreds of those. No, he didn't like having other Immortals around. He couldn't tell if there were other's besides Adam and Duncan. He couldn't sort out the Quickenings and he couldn't feel a third. . . but it was so strong, there had to be some one else. He didn't like staying put. He wanted to run.

Lance giggled like a little girl and Chris snapped back to himself, back to the pyro test. He looked at the golden boy beside him and remembered all the reasons he couldn't, wouldn't run. He whirled around as he felt another Quickening close beside him. He couldn't see either older Immortal. He froze when some anonymous crew member bumped into his back. A voice in his ear whispered, "Johnson Airfield, midnight. Don't forget your sword."

The Immortal prescence drifted out of range as Lance slung an arm around Chris' neck.

"Wasn't that great?" Lance beamed. Chris didn't move.

"Chris, hey, Chris, something wrong?" Lance waved his hand in front of the smaller man's face.

Chris jerked back to himself. "Uh? No, I'm fine, I, uh, just, gotta go do, um, I'll be in the quiet room." Lance watched him leave the room, concern marring his features.

Lance was worried. Ever since the pyro test, Chris had been jumpy. Chris was standing in the middle of the dressing room, staring off into space.

"Chris." Lance tried to get his attention. "Chris, hey." Nothing. "Yoo hoo, earth to small elf-man." Lance waved his hand in Chris' face. Hit his shoulder. Chris swiped his arm out wide and almost took Lance's head off.

"Bass, what the fuck are you doing?! Don't sneak up on me like that."

"I've been trying to get your attention for the past five minutes. You ok?"

Chris peered at Lance nervously. "Yeah, fine. Was I off during the show?" He was avoiding Lance's eyes. "I'm beat, I'm turning in, tell them not to bother me." Chris flew out of the room.

Lance was worried.

Chris rummaged through his things until he found it. He breathed a sigh of relief as he put his hands around the hilt of his sword. Like a security blanket, just touching it made him feel less vulnerable.

"You know you really should carry that with you more often."

Chris squeaked and spun around to see Adam standing in the door of the bus. "Don't do that. I didn't hear you."

Adam repeated his words slowly, "I said, you should carry your sword with you, not leave it in the bus."

"You really think I could carry a big sword around without attracting the wrong kind of attention? Besides, the security deflects most of the need for it."

Adam smiled and handed him a switchblade. "Never go in unprepared."

"Isn't that against the rules?"

"Dead people aren't really in a position to split hairs about the rules."

The younger man stared at the small blade in his hand. He didn't notice Adam slipping out of the bus. He didn't notice the two figures shadowing him as he left, either.

Lance couldn't believe what he was seeing. He thought he knew everything about Chris. The ability to swordfight was not one of the skills Chris had ever demonstrated in the past. There he was, swinging a great big sword. Hacking at his opponent. Fighting for his life.

Lance started to scream when a hand closed over his mouth. He stiffened until he realized that the person holding him back was Lonnie, a man he trusted almost as much as Chris. Lonnie held his finger to his lips, and took his other hand away from Lance's mouth.

"I'll explain later. Just dont say anthing and stay down."

Lance nodded. He didn't have a clue what was happening, but he was always supposed to trust Lonnie. They all trusted Lonnie, or bad things happened. So, Lance just watched as Chris continuted to fight. Lance watched as Chris swung his arm in an arc and sliced the other man's head off. He watched as lightening struck his friend, while Chris screamed and writhed in agony. Lance was screaming, too, but Chris didn't hear. Lance tried to run out in the alley, but Lonnie forced him back. Forced him to stay put while Chris' body lay limp on the ground. All of the sudden, the body jerked to life. Chris jumped up and looked around. He scooped up both swords, tucked them into his trench coat, and ran off into the night. Lance's body trembled. Lonnie sighed.

"Come on, kid. I'll explain this all over a drink. I think you're gonna need it."

Lonnie had a bottle of bourbon brought the tiny booth in the corner. Lance was still just staring at the table, his hands limp in his lap.

"What you just witnessed was part of The Game. Immortals chop off each other's heads for the power that caused the light show you saw. Immortals can never die, except from decapitation. " Lonnie showed Lance the tattoo on his wrist. "I belong to a society of Watchers. We watch and record, but never interfere. I watch Chris. I wish I could save him, help him, but I can't."

"How old is he?"

"You don't need to know that."

"I want to know." Lance ground out the words. "I want to know how badly he's been lying to us."

Lonnie hesitated. "200 and some. Bev isn't his mother, she was married to an Immomrtal who knocked her around. Chris killed him. She'd go to the hell for him. Lying to a bunch of reporters is nothing." Lonnie looked at the angry man sitting in front of him. "Don't be mad at him. He protected you. It could only have hurt you to know." He studied Lance carefully. "I think you can help me."