Suddenly it seemed as if all the air in the room was
sucked out in one giant gasp as we stared at the door.
 The tension was so thick, you could sink your teeth
into it. "Nicca," Merry whispered, unable to conjure
up a more commanding voice. He looked at her with wary
eyes. "Please answer the door." her words were soft,
but even she knew the apprehension that colored them. 


Merry watched as Nicca's beautiful purple hair swayed
over his rippling muscles, teasing her with glimpses
of his tattood butterfly that covered his back. He
cautiously opened the door with a knife held high in
the opposite hand ready to strike. As soon as the door
opened, the whole room noted his shoulders visibly
relax and the knife came down as he opened the door
wide to expose what parts of Uther the doorjam managed
to frame.  

"Uther!" Merry's voice flooded as she practically
stumbled across the room and fell into his arms in a
grateful hug.  She could sense the surprise in the
body of the giant Jack-in-Arms, but he held her as he
always did.  Safe and secure.  "Merry? Is something
wrong?" he murmured gently against her ear as his
large hand kneaded the stress from her back. 
"Yes....and no, my friend.  Nothing that can be
remedied tonight apparently." She wanted to sob. Doyle
had only been gone for a few minutes, but she felt
vulnerable all of a sudden like a vital part of her
person had been stripped away from her.

After a moment, she pulled away from him, sliding out
of his arms and treating with him with a sad, but
tender gaze, "What brings you to my door at this hour,
big guy?" Uther's face changed to something serious.
He struggled to enunciate the words of his next
sentence very carefully around his protruding tusks. 
"Jeremy and Detective Tate need your help, Merry.
There has been some sort of homicide outside a church
and they think it's Fey related."

Merry's mind immediate switched over to detective mode
analyzing, "A church?" She questioned absently. 
"Yes," Uther continued slowly, "Apparently the victim
has been warded as well, so no one can go near it."
Merry pursed her lips and stared into the giants
waiting eyes.  Finally she nodded, "Alright, give me a
moment to get dressed and I'll be right with you."
Then she turned and spied Rhys, "Time to get out your
trenchcoat, Bogey," she teased half-heartedly, "Looks
like we're hitting the gumshoe trail tonight." He
grinned and started in on that horrible Bogey mimick
he always did, "It's a dirty job, little lady...but
somebody's got to do it." He headed off to his room to
prepare himself both as a dectective of the Grey
Agency and as Merry's body guard. 

Merry turned to head towards her own room to change,
but Frost stepped in front of her, blocking her path. 
She looked up and noticed the strain and concern
etched on his face, "I'll go with you too." He stated
quietly.  She reached up to tenderly caress his face.
She used to not like Frost once upon a time.  He was
the picture of Faerie arrogence and pride, but she'd
come to find out that what she'd known previously was
a mask forged from centuries enduring the Unseelie
court and the man underneath was much more endearing. 
How she loved his hair.  The silken texture of it. The
glittering silver that made him shine like a Christmas
tree. She traced his lips and remembered instantly
each of a thousand kisses that she'd shared with him.
Her heart wanted to melt into a puddle right there in
her chest.

"No Frost.  The other guards will be arriving soon and
I need someone here," she made a show of choosing her
words and he KNEW what she was thinking, "to take care
of them." she finished.  The stone cold that passed
across his winter grey eyes made her very aware he was
not happy with the idea of leaving her side,
especially while on the job.  He could not fault her
logic however.  Indeed there would need to be someone
strong here to oversee the new arrivals, whomever they
may be. 'Goddess have mercy, please!'Merry silently
prayed.

"Very well," his voice was sensual, though his tone
curt, "but you will take at least one other guard to
watch over you." It was a command, and Merry's woman,
liberal, mortal self writhed in contempt, but she knew
he was definitely worried that the Queen's attacker
may indeed have been a ploy and until they knew for
sure, he wasn't taking any chances.  She nodded in
acquiescence and moved around him to go change, making
sure her hand slid down his torso as she went.  

She quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a green,
ribbed halter top, with a matching hunter green shirt
over top that hide my Ladysmith which was tucked into
a paddle holster at her waist.  She pinned her hair up
out of the way on the top of her head and looked at
her eyes in the mirror.  They looked fatigued and
grieved. She couldn't think about him now. She had a
job to do, so she shook off the sense of sorrow and
walked back out. She noticed Kitto crouched in a
corner by himself looking miserable and her heart went
out to him.  She knealed down, balancing on the balls
of her feet, and ran her hand down his hair and the
beautiful, iridescent scales along his bare back.  "I
have a favor to ask, my friend." she soothed gently.

Kitto was a simple sort and Merry had come to adore
him for it.  The trick to keeping his mind off of his
troubles was to keep him busy. He eyed her with slight
awe that she would ask anything from him and perhaps a
glimmer of hope. "Yes mistress?" his voice quivered.
"The new guards will need quarters prepared for them
and I'm not ready to give up Doyle's place to them
just yet. Do you think you could manage to find a
place for them and prepare it for their arrival?" she
asked with genuine affection dripping from her tongue.
Kitto almost jumped up like she'd given him the most
important assignment on the planet. "Yes, Merry.  I
can do that if it will please you." She rewarded him
with a bright smile, "It will please me very much." 

She gave his head a couple more pats before
straightening up and following out the door behind
Uther and Rhys.  Galen had been assigned to tag along
as well and brought up the rear.  Merry did not look
Frost in the eye again, or she would have faltered. 'A
faltering princess who can't stick to her decisions
isn't good.  Not good at all.' she scolded herself
mentally.  She took a deep breath, stealing herself,
pushed the worries of Doyle and the others out of her
mind, and focused on the problem at hand. Squaring her
shoulders, she walked into the ever lightening sky
that proclaimed dawn's approach.