Third Person POV; Treakle..

Treakle and Jareth walked in a tension filled silence around the stone hallway. Every few minutes Treakle would glance at the boy - man technically - who was her best friend at spy school. He was the only person in this business she could trust; aside from her parents. Even though she was ecstatic to meet them finally, it was still weird. She didn't know them. At all. None of that matters, she kept telling herself, they are my parents and that's what counts.

But her mind kept rethinking things. For instance, why did she have those dreams where her dad would warn her about trusting the wrong person and double crossing someone else? But the scary thing was the whole "someone will die" part. Before they left headquarters, Dravon was sure it'd be her if she didn't have his help; but that's because he's trying to kill her. Now, Treakle is one hundred percent positive Dravon will die at her hand. And Alcee. God she can't stand that bitch. A gunshot echoed silently through the halls and they both stopped and looked at each other. Jareth had an odd expression. It was mixed with dread and an almost sarcastic smirk. It scared the shit out of her.

"We need to move." He said and grabbed her hand.

Treakle pulled away and shook her head like a child. "I don't like the look you just gave me."

"What look?!"

"That one!" she pointed, her body was shaking with slight fear. "It looks like you're keeping something from me."

"Treakle!" he sighed, "Is now really the time? Rebels are crawling all over this place."

"How would you know?! You've been locked in a cell for three days!"

"I just do!," he grabbed her hand again, "Now lets go!"

Once again she pulled away. "No Jareth."

"I advice you go with him Treakle dearest." A girl's voice came from behind them.

Treakle turned with a whoosh and gasped.

"What are you doing here?!"

The girl sighed, "Why are you surprised? You knew I was a rebel spy."

With gritted teeth she replied, "Yes, but I thought you were dead."

"Did you?" the girl was mocking her now.

"Maybe I was just hoping you were."

"Ha! You would never wish something so horrible for your best friend."

"That's where you're wrong. You lost that title after you shot me."

The girl lifted up her shirt and revealed a jagged circle scar just above her naval.

"I was shot first."

"Irrelevant." Treakle pulled the gun out of the waistband of her jeans and aimed it at Peyton. But at the same time Peyton did the same.

"Aw!" Peyton cooed, "You have a gun!! I remember when we would watch cops and robbers movies in 6th grade and we'd pretend to have guns afterwards? Now you have a real one!"

"Yeah, and I remember I always won those games."

"Well, now that we're both in the real world, let's see who has the fastest fingers."

BANG

A gun fired. Both girls looked at each other with shock before Peyton smirked. Out the corner of her eye Treakle saw Jareth sink to the floor.

"You bitch!" She kneeled next to him.

"Robin," Peyton said "If you knew the truth, you'd be thanking me."

And with that, Peyton hit Treakle across her head with the butt of her gun.

Then, blackness.

......§......

Third Person POV; Peyton : Jareth..

Jareth moaned and clutched his side. "You didn't have to actually shoot me, bitch."

Blood was soaking his shirt; however, it was merely because of the bullet grazing his skin a little too deeply. There was no bullet hole.

"I didn't mean to," Peyton murmured grabbing Treakle and pulling an arm over her shoulder. "Will you be able to get the other side, or are you too busy being a pussy?"

Jareth grumbled and stood up, ignoring the mind-numbing pain coming from his right hip. Once Treakle was secured with an arm around each of their shoulders they started walking.

"I'm tired of working with you," Jareth grunted.

"Well duh! Fuck, we've worked together for like seven years or something."

"It hasn't been that long. I came in like fourth grade..."

Peyton shot him a triumphant smirk, "It's been over seven years!"

Jareth grumbled in reply.

"Haha! I win."

They walked in silence for three minutes before they had to stop for a breathing break. Jareth took off his shirt and used it as a bandage to slow the bleeding on his side. He was starting to get a little dizzy from the blood loss, but of course he refused to show it. "You know back at headquarters, when you and Treakle kissed..."

Jareth looked at Treakle and shuddered. "Yeah?" She smiled at him, "I think she likes you, to some extent."

"Well, I think Treakle is a whiney brat who needs to get over herself."

They both looked at her body, carelessly strewn on a wall, and chuckled in agreement.

"I think we're going to need prizes for putting up with her."

"Oh I know!" Peyton cried, "I mean seriously, it was bad enough being a high school friend, but then we had to be her friends in spy school as well? That's just asking too much."

Jareth smirked at her. "We better get her to the bosses. They're not going to be happy if we take too long."

"What about the targets? Have they been terminated?"

"Of course. What do you think that gunshot was earlier?"

"How can we be certain?" They picked Treakle back up and started walking.

"Alcee never misses."

......§......

Third Person POV; Dravon..

Alcee and Dravon walked in a tension filled silence around the stone hallway. Every few moments Alcee would glance at the boy - man technically - that she has loved for years. It wasn't until she heard about him going on a mission with Treakle that she realized how fiercely she loved him.

It became common knowledge that the council was in lieu with the rebels a year ago. Well, common for everyone but Dravon. She was beginning to realize that when Dravon got close to someone, he would do whatever it took to always see them in a positive light. Treakle being the number one example. His parents being a second, and the council being the third. How could the top level five miss all the signs that his "second-family" was against him? It was obvious to everyone else.

She shook the thought about the mental issues Dravon had and focused on keeping him alive. Jareth wasn't the only one that would love to get into it with Dravon. Hell, the whole fucking team had beef with him. Alcee had quickly risen up in the ranks when the Stewarts took over the heist. She played upon her love for Dravon, with honesty, and was instantly admitted into the circle of trust. She knew everything.

Stealing another glance at Dravon she noticed he was looking at her as well.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"You tell me." He answered grabbing her by the shoulders to stop her and look at her straight in the eyes.

Internally she shuddered. He may miss the important clues, but Dravon could read anyone like a book.

"Nothing, just can't believe you trust me."

With a soft shove he turned away with disgust and paced away.

That was obviously the wrong thing to say, Alcee scolded herself. When she caught up she spoke again.

"Not like trust-trust. I understand you probably hate me. I mean trust enough to let me go with you."

"Don't worry, Ally, about 'trust'; you're only coming because I need you. Plus I doubt you'd let me get near your spot again."

She subconsciously rubbed the spot that he pressed earlier to make her slip into unconsciousness.

"That was a cheap move, Dravon Stewart, and you know it," she growled at him.

He replied with a shrug; not being able to care too much. Dravon loved Alcee like a sister, so this whole 'rebel-spy' stint was hitting home hard. How could he accept that one of his level four groupies was against him? It didn't make sense, but then again, nothing makes sense anymore.

After about ten more minutes of stalking the halls uninterrupted they heard throaty breathing. It was very labored. With secret hand gestures, Dravon motioned they move in the direction of the noise. He looked down a dark hallway and, with the night-vision contacts he wore, could see a body hovering over another. Mumbling could be heard as the body on top shook, with misery no doubt. As he glided forward he recognized the gaunt figure as Rech's.

"Hey, Mr. Kemp," he whispered. So its true what Alcee said earlier. Treakle had escaped...and is wondering these halls right now...with Jareth.

The man turned with a wild expression.

"Dravon? You're alive!" Rech wheezed and clutched at his chest, but all with a smile on his face.

"Yes sir. I escaped." Dravon knelt to the man's level and glanced at Annabelle. She was lying on the floor. Not moving. "She's not...?"

Rech whimpered, "I don't know. She had something like a spasm earlier and just hasn't recovered. She hasn't moved and I can't find a pulse."

Alcee gasped from behind Dravon. Rech looked up at her with hatred.

"Dravon are you aware that rebel-scum followed you?"

He nodded curtly, "yes, she's helping me..."

Only then did he realize his mistake. He turned quickly and stood up and found himself in a déjà-vu situation. Alcee was two steps further away than earlier and had the barrel of her gun starring him in the eye.

"I have to Dravon." She whispered with tears gathering in her eyes. "I have to. They have Tony and Shannon. If I let them live..."

Dravon knew what she was going to say. I hate my parents, he thought with authentic fury. How cruel could they be that they would take two innocent kids lives if their "best friends" were to live? He just couldn't understand that.

Rech and Annabel were always visiting his parents when he was younger. They treated him like he was their son. Not to mention, when he went into spy training it was them that would always come see him and help him when things got a little rough. They were at his level five initiations. His parents weren't. Sometimes Dravon wondered if they were his real parents since they treated him better than his biological ones. But the DNA didn't match.

"Alcee, there must be a way around this. What if you were to say you never saw them?" Frustration seeped in his voice word by word so that by the end he was growling. It was as if someone put all his anger in a pot and set it to boil. This day couldn't get any worse, he thought; and it was probably only two o'clock in the afternoon.

She shook her head causing a tear to drop. "There are cameras everywhere. They see everything. They can see us right now."

"But this hallway is far back from the main walkways. Why would they have cameras back here? It's too dark to see anything." Rech asked in a husky voice. If Annabelle was...gone...it sounded like he was very close to following. And that scared the shit out of him.

Dravon looked back at Rech. He looked at his gaunt face, his bone-thin arms, and his overgrown face. He looked pathetic. It was sickening how useless and feeble the top level six looked to Dravon. The only thing that could possibly be a more dismal sight was Annabelle laying on the floor, worthless, and possibly dead.

"This would be the perfect place for a camera, sir. This is where they expect you to hide."

How can the months he's been in here mess with his mind that much? Dravon thought with exasperation. One of the first things you learn in field training was that the "safe" places were the most dangerous. Dark areas were perfect to hide in for both sides.

Alcee cocking her gun pulled him back to the situation.

He turned to her and felt his rancor brim over and cascade around them. In a large torrent his resentment was sent her way. So much it was almost tangible.

She cowered away slightly and lowered her gun. At first he thought she was backing down, but then Dravon realized she was aiming at Rech now. Without thinking or any pre-thought he lunged at Alcee and knocked the gun out her hand. There was a struggle for dominance as they rolled on the floor until Dravon pinned her the ground. She let out a frustrated shriek.

"Why?! Dravon, why?!" She shrilled, pure anger in her eyes. "Do you want them to kill Tony and Shannon?! They're old! Look at them! She's dead and he's not far behind! Shannon and Tony still have years ahead of them!"

Dravon snarled at her, "I'm not going to let either die."

"You are so arrogant!" she hissed back at him. Alcee started thrashing again and managed to loosen his hold long enough for her to elbow him in the face.

As he quickly absorbed the blow, she was scrambling up and frantically crawling to her gun. Holding his nose in one hand he swiftly reached out and grabbed her leg, pulling it towards him. She collapsed. With the other leg she kicked it back into his face. This time he felt his nose break.

With a roar he nursed his wound. In that time Alcee grabbed her gun and aimed it back at Rech. With a silent tear, she closed her eye and fired.

....................................................................................................................................

Peyton was in the disguise of Luria.. Treakle best friend in spy headquarters.. If you are wondering, who Peyton was.. Then plss reread chapters 2, 3 & 4..

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