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Kristopher's eyes snapped open at exactly 6am, his internal clock waking him up at the same time every day so he could start his day as normal. Well, almost normally. Today was different, because he had to quietly extract himself from an embrace. After a few quick movements he extracted himself from Jason Blackthorn's arms and walked down the hall of his penthouse towards his work-out room. Grabbing a few weights, he started doing a few curls before he switched to the bench press. After that he ran five miles on the treadmill. Just before he went to work out on the heavy bag, he heard Jason stirring in the bedroom. Instead of waiting for Jason tom fully wake up and wonder where he had gone, Kristopher turned on his stereo loud enough to be heard from the bedroom so that Jason could find him. Then he began his work with the heavy bag. Letting his emotions flow out of him, he began to punch and kick the bag in a random flurry of attacks. The bag was swigging on it's chain like it weighed only fifty pounds instead of the hundred pounds it did. It was the water filled bag, which was much better on his joints than the cement filled bag next to it, and was closet to hitting a human body. He heard a gasp from the door, and after a few more blows, he turned around and faced Jason.

"Good morning King of Swords," Kristopher said with a small bow. "I trust you slept well?" "What the fuck? Don't talk like that," said Jason. "I'm just Jason, not the King of Swords to you. Why did you bow? How long have you been up? Why-" Kristopher burst out laughing. "I was kidding Jason. But seriously, how did you sleep?" "Fine thank you," Jason said with a blush. "How much does that bag weigh?" "It's a water filled, hundred pound bag. I'm just used to the weight." "I've never seen a bag that heavy move like that." "I'm stronger than I look Jason. Now, shall I make breakfast for us first or should I bathe first?" "You're asking me?" "You do have a vested interest in both things I'm sure, so I though I'd ask your thoughts on the matter." Kristopher winked and took off his shirt. "Shower," said Jason instantly, a noticeable shift in how his boxers were fitting becoming more and more apparent. "Very well, but a shower may not be what I want," Kristopher said, and smiled at Jason's puzzled, then knowing expression. He placed a finger on his lips to silence him. "You'll see."

Kristopher lead the way back towards the bedroom, grabbing two towels from the closet on the way. When they got to the bathroom, Jason gasped again. There was a huge tube that was filling as they entered and a decent sized shower tucked into the corner.

"I'm not a huge fan of showers," Kristopher said. "As you can see. I prefer a good, long bath. We can shower if you want though." "To-together?" "Or I can take one alone," Kristopher said with a frown. "I'm sorry of you don't want to, I just thought... never mind. It's fine, I'll just shower and be done in a little bit okay? You go make yourself at home in the kitchen. I'll only be about twenty minutes." "O-okay," stammered Jason. "Sorry... I'm just..." He bolted from the room. "Damnú air," Kristopher cursed in his native Gaelic. He rarely betrayed any information about his past, but something about this Wolf really had him flustered. "What the fuck is wrong with me." He turned on the shower and drained the water from the large tub. Then he climbed into the shower. Little did he know that his statement was being echoed by that very Wolf down the hall in the kitchen. "Damn it, what the fuck is wrong with me. We just fucked last night, and it's not like I'm not incredibly attracted to him. I should just go back down there and climb in with him..." Jason turned around, and walked back into the bathroom. He saw Kristopher getting into the shower and climbing under the water, letting it wash over his head and soak into his fur. Kristopher was so lost in his own thoughts, as well as feeling of the water running through his fur, that he didn't notice Jason climb into the shower behind him. Jason reached out and placed a hand on Kristopher's shoulder. Reacting out of years of training and instinct, Kristopher spun around, clasped a hand around Jason's throat, slashed at the arm that had touched him arm, and raised his claws for another slash, this time to the jugular, before his brain registered who he had in his hands. When he saw how fast Kristopher had reacted and then felt the pain Jason fainted in terror, so he went slack in Kristopher's grip. When Kristopher released his hold Jason fell to the floor of the shower. Kristopher reacted quickly, shutting off the water he scooped Jason up in his arms and carried him to the bed. From his first aid kit he grabbed some supplies and began to treat the injury. There appeared to be a clean cut, so Kristopher cleaned and bound it. Jason's vitals were decent, so Kristopher began to try to get him to come to. He pulled out a small vial of smelling salts, and help them under Jason's nose. He groaned and stated to come to. When he was fully aware, Jason's looked around and noticed where he was.

"What happened?" "Well," Kristopher said looking away. "You surprised me in the shower and I reacted on instinct. You hit your head pretty hard and blacked out. I'm sorry, I'm not really used to having people at my place. Tha mi duilich." "Huh?" "I'm sorry, I'm a little out of it today. I said I'm sorry again." "In what language?" "No one knows my past and I try to keep it that way," Kristopher began to explain, but Jason tried to interrupt. "No Jason, let me finish. I am not from here, I'm from Scotland. I was speaking Scottish Gaelic. Only the dealer and you know that much about me now, and I hope that you keep this information to yourself." "Scottish? But you sound like-" "A'll be reit back," Kristopher said in his actual accent and walked to the wall. He lifted a painting and reveled a safe recessed into the wall. Opening it he pulled out his birth certificate and showed it to Jason. "I was born in Mallaig, a small town in the Scottish Highlands, and lived there until I was twelve." "Why did you come over here?" "I... that is... Jason," Jason's phone rang saving Kristopher from finishing the story. "Shit," Jason cried. "That's my grandfather's ring-tone. He only calls me if he needs something." "Answer it then." "Hello," Jason answered it, giving Kristopher a moment to breath a sigh of relief over not having to explain that he was run out of his home town for killing his own brother. Admittedly he was defending himself, but the town didn't care why just that it had happened. It wasn't a story he was ready to share just yet. Jason was finishing up his call with his grandfather, so Kristopher snapped out of his own thoughts.

"What's the deal?" "He wants me to help him fix up an old shed on his property today." "Do you want me to help?" "I can't ask you to do that Kris. It wouldn't be fair." "If I minded I wouldn't have offered to help Jason. I haven't done real yard work in a while, and two people can finish faster than one," Kristopher chuckled at his next thought. "Besides, I drove here last night. Your car is still at the restaurant in the opposite direction you're going." "Kris," Jason began. "I'm not sure I'm read to introduce you to my Grandfather yet. He's a little particular about having guests and meeting my friends and-" "Jason," Kristopher interrupted. "It's fine if you don't want to introduce me as the guy you just slept with or what ever name you wish to use for me. I just want to help you so that you have some free time later tonight for dinner. I'll be good, I promise." "Okay," Jason relented. "But only because I want to have dinner with you."

Laughing, Kristopher got dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a simple light grey shirt that showed of his toned body. Then he lead Jason back down to the garage where they climb into Kristopher's Jeep.

"How many cars do you have?" "Four," replied Kristopher curtly. "But only one is my personal car, the one you rode in last night. The others are usually for my work, but I felt that this might come in handy for yard work better than the Murcielago." "Probably," agreed Jason with a small laugh. "Don't worry about having money around me, my Grandfather has a large fortune that I'm suppose to inherit after he 'moves on' as he says. Not that I'm ready for him to die or anything," Jason said quickly. "Moves on doesn't sound like he means die to me Jason, it sounds almost like he means when he retires." "He's been retired for almost fifty years," laughed Jason. "I just said what it sounds like to me," chuckled Kristopher.

They finished the drive in relative silence, Jason pointing out directions, Kristopher lost in thought about how he'd eventually have to tell Jason his past. What would he say? I killed my own twin brother. It was self-defense because he was trying to kill me, but I killed him in. That's why I left Mallaig, or rather why I was forced to leave. Yeah, that would go over well. He's have to explain why his brother had tried to kill him for refusing to have sex with him, and how he fought when his brother tried to rape him. Then he's be forced to explain what happened when the town found out, and how he was forced to leave or starve to death because they began to steal his food, as well as poison it, and refuse to trade with him anymore. Next he'd have to explain how he came to the states, faked his heritage to be an American to try to get a job, failed, and almost starved to death until the previous Death had found him and taken him in. That Death had been named Jonathan Blake, and had been a small White Weasel. He had trained Kristopher in martial arts, combat, and stealth, then explained about the Arcana and his role. Turns out he was training a successor because he had be diagnosed with an incurable terminal disease that would kill him in about ten years, and that had been four years ago. Once John died, he named Kristopher as his successor to the dealer and he was informed he was now Death. He'd only been eighteen at the time. Now, seven years later, here he was. How could he explain all that to Jason? His train of though was broken as Jason told him that the drive he was looking for was coming up on the left. Pulling down it, Kristopher saw a Victorian style manor dominating the surrounding landscape. Kristopher had a sudden flash of a memory of being in such a house once before when he first came to this country and John had found him, with a raging fever, and taken him to get medical help. Whether this memory was a real one or one brought on by the fever he didn't know, so he gave it little thought after that. Climbing out of the car, he looked over at Jason.

"So," Kristopher began. "You want me to wait out here or go up and meet your grandfather with you?" "Um... Could you come up but not talk until I introduce you?" "Yes, your Highness," replied Kristopher with a small grin. "Don't do tha-, oh you were joking again weren't you?" "Yep. Glad you caught on this time Jason."

Jason walked up to the front door, and Kristopher followed him. Once Jason's grandfather answered the door, Jason introduced Kristopher.

"Grandfather, this is my friend Kristopher," Jason began. "Kristopher Blake, yes I know," the elderly man finished. "I'm sure you're wondering how I know this young man, but I knew your father. In fact, I'm the one he brought you to when he found you, with that fever. I'm glad to see you are doing well" "Thank you, sir," replied Kristopher turning pale. "I had no idea that anyone knew that Jonathan Blake was my father, and not just someone who took me in in return for helping him due to the illness." "I'm sure," said the man with a smile. "I'm Alexander Blackthorn." he held out his hand. "A pleasure Mr. Blackthorn," Kristopher took the offered hand. "Now Jason, "said Mr. Blackthorn. "Would you mind working on clearing out the shed and let me check up on how Mr. Blake is doing?" "Of course Grandfather," Jason said with a puzzle look on his face. "The shed is in the back yard Kris, Join me when you're done I guess."

Jason walked through the house first, and Kristopher and Mr. Blackthorn entered shortly after. Mr. Blackthorn lead the way into his study where he gestured to a chair.

"Please have a seat Mr. Blake, and I'll grab us something to drink." "Yes, sir," Kristopher said taking a seat. "And thank you." "I'm glad to see that John's habit of ignoring his manners wasn't passed on to you," remarked Mr. Blackthorn as he turned to leave, causing them both to chuckle.

While Mr. Blackthorn was out, Kristopher looked around and tried to learn something about his current host. Looking at the desk in front of him he saw a gold pen set, a gold letter opener, a desk light, and a few handwritten notes placed around it, and he gave a small start. He'd seen that handwriting before, every time he got an assignment from the Dealer. Either Mr. Alexander Blackthorn was connected to the Dealer, or he was one of the other Arcana. Suddenly on edge, Kristopher reached across the desk and grabbed the letter opener. Palming the small dull blade, Kristopher began to plan his next move, when Mr. Blackthorn returned carrying a tray of lemonade. "Put the letter opener down, I'd hate to have to clean blood off it, especially my own Mr. Blake," he said as he glanced at the desk. "If I wanted you harmed I would have taken you out when I had your last assignment placed on that beautiful car of yours." "What," cried Kristopher with a start. "You had the assignment placed? That means you're the-" "Yes, Kristopher. I'm the Dealer. I'm sure you're in shock right now, but have some lemonade and try to calm down. It's quite good, my housekeeper made it and it's one of my guilty pleasures if you will." He poured himself a glass, and took a sip. "Sir," Kristopher said, barely keeping calm. "This is highly improper, I can't know how you are, let alone date your grandson and-" "Shut up," said Mr. Blackthorn calmly. "I've decide that there needs to be a change in how we run because of Mr. Richards' actions. As to dating my Grandson, I told you I wanted you to for a reason. I plan to retire my position as dealer eventually and he is who I want to take my place. I was untrained in our ways when my father left it to me and with the death of my son, I had only one choice. To stay the Dealer until Jason could take over. Admittedly, this business with the King of Swords has made me realize not only does the next Dealer need training, but I need to stay on for a while. Also, it has become clear that I need an ally who I can trust. That ally is you Kristopher. You have never been unfaithful to me, never questioned my orders, never done anything I did not wish you to. You are truly my strong right hand, but now I also want you to be my left as well. You are to teach my grandson what it means to be Arcana, as well as keep investigating how deep this betrayal goes." "Sir," Kristopher said. "This is not done. Jonathan told me that the dealer's identity was a secret from all the other members to protect him-" "Ever wonder why Jonathan brought you to me, Mr. Blake?" "I assumed it was because you were a doctor sir," admitted Kristopher. "He brought you to me because I was his friend, as well as a doctor. He knew who and what I was, and still kept that secret from you and the rest of the Arcana. You can do the same I'm sure Mr. Blake." "Yes sir, I can, but what about Jason?" "I told you, you may date him if you still wish to after this little talk. I would even prefer if you did, he'll need a friend if he is to succeed me as dealer." "Should I tell him who you are?" This caused Mr. Blackthorn to pause. "Wait until I tell you to, I believe. Unless you feel he is ready. In which case, you are to contact me and discuss doing so." "Yes sir." "You may go now Death," said Mr. Blackthorn motioning him out. "Oh, and Kristopher?" "Yes sir?" "Good luck finding out who is part of the conspiracy."

Kristopher bowed low and quickly left the study. He quickly walked out the front door and over to his car, where he proceeded to grab two folding blades from his glove box. He then walked around the house to find Jason talking to his grandfather who was on the back porch.

"Jason," Kristopher called. "What can I do to help?" "Only thing left to do now Kris is tear down the shed. Turns out that Grandfather was just storing a few yard tools and an antique... What did you say it was again Grandfather? A lawn mower?" "Don't make me get my cane and beat you Jason, you know very well that that is what lawn mowers used to look like," Mr. Blackthorn said with a laugh. "So we're breaking down the shed then?" "Actually, that's not all we're doing with it, but that's all for today. Grandfather wants us to help build a new shed starting next week," said Jason, prompting a nod from Mr. Blackthorn. "That's right," said Mr. Blackthorn. "But I'll let you two get out of here one you get rid of the old shed.' "Fine," said Kristopher walking over to the shed. "I'll take it down." Kristopher looked closely at the shed and determined the weakest structural points. He lined up his blow and gave each of them a good strong kick. The wood was older than he had guessed, and instead of just cracking like he'd though it broke in two. After the first beam broke, Kristopher had to alter the order had planed to break the beams in so that the shed didn't cave in until he was ready. Once he kicked the last bean the shed gave a small shudder and collapsed inward. "There, the shed's down. Can we go now Jason?" "Grandfather?" "Yes," said Mr. Blackthorn with a laugh. "You can go. Mr. Blake, feel free to come back any time, and don't hesitate to ask if you ever need anything. Keep in touch."

Mr. Blackthorn, the Dealer, walked back inside his home with a wave and disappeared. Jason began walking over to say something to Kristopher, but he stopped when he saw the look on Kristopher's face. Taking the hint, he decided to wait until they were in the car to say anything. Once they got to the car, Kristopher pulled out one of the blades he had grabbed earlier, and handed it to Jason.

"Jason," Kristopher said. "This blade has a tracking device in it that will allow you to locate whoever has it. I have two of these, and I want you to have this one. I'll keep the other and show you how to track them alright?" "Alright Kris," said Jason slowly. "What's going on?" "Nothing, its just... I want you to have it in case you need help. There's another feature added to that knife, if you press where the pivot is in the blade twice it will activate a signal that tells me you need help." "Kris, you're beginning to worry me." "Jason," Kris said slowly. "I'm going to take you to your car, and then I need some time to myself. I'm kind of on edge, and me on edge is never a good thing." "Kris can you tell me what's going on at all?" "Jason," Kris said in a tone he hoped the Timber Wolf would pick up on. "This is something I don't really want to talk about right now." "Alright," Jason said taking the hint. "May I ask you about something else then?" "I suppose." "How did you do that to the shed?" "That was easy," Laughed Kristopher. "It was a simple matter of figuring out the weak points in key structural components and shattering those points. The big problem I ran into was that the wood had rotted more than I thought and I had to change the order I broke it in. If you want, I can teach you how to do it." "Sounds complicated." "Not really." they finished the drive with Kristopher explaining how to tell what was a key structural point in a building. When they got to Jason's car, Kris broke the bad news he had been thinking about the whole drive. "Jason, I'm going to be busy for the rest of the night so we won't be able to go to dinner." "But," Jason began, but the sadness he saw in Kristopher's eyes made him realize that this was just as hard for him. "Alright sweetheart, call me when you're free then."

Jason gave Kristopher a quick kiss on the cheek, and drove off with a wave. Kris pulled out his phone, and sent Jason a quick text saying he'd be out of town for a few of days and that he'd hook up with him when he got back. After that he dialed the number he'd kept for the past thirteen years. Sebastian, his adopted father's butler, answered the phone.

"Blake Manor, who may I ask is calling?" "Sebastian it's me, I'm going to be coming home for a few days. Would you mind having the Hayabusa serviced today, and prepare the cottage for me?" "Not the Master Suite, Master Blake?" "Not this time Sebastian, I'm not in the mood to deal with anyone while I'm there and if it looks like I'm in the main house..." "Yes, I understand sir," replied the Irish Wolfhound. "Good, I'll see you in a few hours at the airstrip. I'll take the Bombardier, so could you have Harrison fly it up for me?" "Of course sir." Thank you Sebastian. Have him call me when he lands, and I'll meet him on the strip." "He should be on the ground in about two hours sir. May I ask what has happened?" "I met Dr. Blackthorn," said Kristopher. "Who sir?" "Never mind Sebastian," said Kristopher calmly. "If the name doesn't mean anything to you, then you have no need to be involved." "Ah," said the Wolfhound. "I take it this is one of your and your father's 'business' issues?" "Yes, Sebastian it is. Now don't mention this again," Kristopher smiled knowing that the Wolfhound would never speak a word about the "family business" to anyone. "I'll see you a few hours." "Yes sir, it will be good to have you home. Shall I prepare a meal for when you get here?" "No thank you Sebastian, I'll cook the meal for you, Harrison, and myself. Oh, is Mrs. Sullivan there?" "She will be when you arrive sir. Shall I take a message?" "Tell her I left the flowers on Mr. Sullivan's grave as she asked, and I'll bring her a bottle of her favorite wine as usual." "Yes sir, she will be ecstatic as usual. See you presently."

Kristopher hung up, and finished the drive home in silence. When he arrived at his apartment he packed a small bag of clothing, and two larger bags filled with weapons and training gear. He loved having a private jet because he could carry what he wanted without dealing with the TSA rules. Grabbing a bottle from his wine rack, he checked to make sure that it was one of his bottles of Chateau Mouton Rothschild 1982. At about $700 a bottle it was one of his few pleasures to provide them for the Widow Sullivan as he late husband was one of his closest friends and his sensei for the last four years of his life. After packing the wine, he turned on his security system, and locked his door. He hailed a cab to take him to the airstrip, and left his home in the city. Meanwhile, on the city outskirts Dr. Alexander Blackthorn was hard at work deciding who was involved in the betrayal of the Arcana. He was frowning as numbers and names scrolled past his eyes on a computer screen, clearly this ran deeper than he thought...