Author’s Note: This is a posting of my NaNoWriMo novel, so you can understand if it’s not grammatically perfect. I prefer to post my rough drafts to keep my spirits up while writing. I love reviews, and hope you all enjoy this story. Rated M for possibly sexual situations, language and over all feel.

Clara Acker woke up kissing a man didn't know. The feel of his lips, hard and warm against hers, woke her up. Her eyes opened to stare directly into hard green eyes that, if she wasn't mistaken, were laughing at her. She broke free, or was released, she couldn’t tell, and took several steps back. She felt her heart race, it was awake the entire time, but she ignored the hot rushes in her body as she had for many years. She thought of her school days, back when she could afford to go away to school, and let the image of hard faced nuns lecturing her about math or God turn all those needless emotions away. It never failed, and it helped her keep her head.

A woman needed all the help she could get to keep her head around someone like the stranger in front of her. Hard green eyes that laughed while they kissed you were just the beginning. He was tall, clearly over six feet, and lean, all legs and shoulders. His arms looked toned, though the baggy and stained t-shirt and jeans hid the rest of his body. His face was an interesting meld of hard bone and soft lips. Those lips, possibly still warm from hers, curved as he stuck two hands in his pockets, leaned back and casually screamed arrogance. He was gorgeous, and she knew he knew it.

Her dislike was instant and strong.

"Who are you?"

"That's not important right now." He tilted his head just slightly to the side and smiled. She knew it was a move to make her heart melt, and body warm. Because it started to work, she pictured the nuns again. She couldn't let a pretty face distract her from the truth.

She went to bed last night and woke up—late at night—in what appeared to be a dirty alleyway, kissing a strange man she never met before in her life. She wanted to know why.

"I'd say it's pretty important. You kissed me!"

"That's because I wanted to see something."

Her cheeks flushed but she struggled to keep hold of her temper, she rarely lost it but it was always bad news when she did. She always looked silly.

"And what did you want to see?"

He moved closer, a slow graceful movement that made her think of a tiger, or a snake.

"If you knew who you are."

Clara blinked and stared at him. There was something familiar about his face, now that she really looked without thinking of the kiss or of nuns. It hit her suddenly.

"You're that man who came into the library and hit on me!"

"Yes, and though I was turned down I'm quite glad I did it now." He moved even closer, touching her cheek slightly before she turned away. "I wouldn't have known you were acting weird if we met tonight."

"What are you talking about? Why am I here? How did you get me here? Did you drug me?" She poked him in the chest, wanting him to step back. She didn't like people in her space. Her finger rammed against hard muscle, and he didn't even loose the smirk.

"Darling," he said in a slow, casual way that made her blood boil, in anger thankfully, "You invited me here."

"I did not! I would never. I'm supposed to be in bed. Alone!" She added, and since he wouldn't move, she ducked around him and paced away. Anger moved though her body like caffeine, waking her up further and making herself pace. She didn't move like a tiger or a snake, maybe a mouse, an angry mouse. Small and plump, she'd never be as intimidating and this stranger was by existence. At first glance she was nothing to fear, only a little over 5’5, and never able to fully loose those ten pounds that kept her from average, twenty if she wanted to be like the Hollywood stars, she appeared sweet, the girl next door or little sister everyone loved to have. A round face and big brown eyes made people want to protect her when she was young, and the sunny blonde hair still got envious remarks, especially since it was natural.

"No one dresses like you are and expects to be alone." The stranger shifted and looked over her in an overly obvious way that made her feel teased. Clara's blood started to boil again but she looked over herself and gasped.

Gone were her usual professional if loose clothes. She no longer wore ill fitting slacks with a blouse tucked in, or perhaps jeans and a t-shirt like him, or even the full flannel nightgown that she wore to bed to protect her from the cold fall nights. She realized how angry she had to be to not feel the change in her outfit. Her bra forced her full breasts up and out of the low cut shirt, exposing much more chest than ever wanted. A skirt, far shorter than she preferred, hugged her hips and clung to the legs it did cover. It showed off most of her pale legs, slightly glowing under the florescent street lights, with only short healed boots. She had exposed skin everywhere, arms, legs, chest, and worse she didn't even notice.

A blush flooded her cheeks as she turned away from the stranger, and did her best to cover herself. She never dressed like this. What was going on? Tears stung her eyes as she took a deep breath and recited a Shakespeare sonnet until she felt better. She preferred to not freak out, and learned young that if she just forced herself to think of something else, eventually the emotions would go away.

When she turned around, he was smiling, looking almost as if he was holding back laughter.

"What?"

"Nothing, you're just amusing." He pulled out a cigarette and lit it, grinning at her though the new smoke. "Real amusing."

"Will you just tell me what is going on?"

"Since I doubt you'd believe me, no. I will tell you my name since you just can't seem to remember it."

"Why would I know your name?"

"I told you yesterday." He looked hurt, though his eyes still mocked her. "Korbin, I'm Korbin."

She remembered now, him telling her the first time as he leaned against her counter at work. He looked like he was laughing then too, his bright green eyes sparkling and his casually confident smile. He ignored her pleas to find him a book to instead flirt with her as co-workers and patrons both looked on. It had been a pleasure to turn him down; though she did wish, he would have signed up for a library card at least.

Everyone deserved a good book.

"Right; that explains only one of my questions. I want to know why I'm here."

"That I don't know."

"You have to know!"

"Why?"

"Because you're here! If I'm not here because of you, why am I here?"

"Well, I do think you're here because of me, but I don't know why."

"What are you talking about?"

"I was told to come here tonight, at this time, to meet someone who would convince me to join an organization, and that someone was you. I think you're my bribe." He smiled at her again as he looked over her outfit.

Clara flushed and crossed her arms over her chest again. She turned away, her mind aching from the confusion. She turned back to Korbin, but he hadn't moved. Someone else made her come here? It was just luck that the person who she met here was someone she turned down not that long ago? Clara didn't meet gorgeous men all the time, and she certainly didn't meet ones that flirted with her. In fact, she had been quite happy with no one flirting with her in a long time. She should have known that Korbin would have brought her bad luck.

"That can't be all there is. Who dressed me like this? Who sent me here? Who contacted you?"

"I don't know." He shrugged once and took another drag from his cigarette. "I couldn't get any names you'd recognize."

"Don't treat me like I'm stupid." She dropped her arms in her anger, even approached him. "I graduated top of my class with a 4.0 average."

"Obviously brilliant," He smiled at her again, but there was something mean in it this time. "I don't think you're stupid, Darling, I just know you don't know about my world."

She sniffed once. "I'm sure I'm quite deprived."

Korbin laughed, and the cruelty in his smile melted away, making it hard to believe it was ever there. Clara didn't like that. She wanted to remember when a man could be cruel. Men who made it easy to forget were the most dangerous kind.

"You could tell me about your world."

"I told you, you wouldn't believe me."

"I know full well about the fate of the slums, or where ever you live."

Something flashed though Korbin's eyes. Pride? Anger? Clara paled as she took a step back. She forgot that she was in a dark alleyway with only a rather large man for company.

"I don't live in the slums darling; I live in the Magic Quarter."

"What?"

"Someone messed around in that pretty little head of yours," He walked up to her and grabbed her chin, refusing to let go even when she tried to tug free. "And they did it with magic."

"Magic doesn't exist."

Korbin laughed again, lowly this time, and with great pleasure. "Magic exists. It just likes to stick to its own kind. You don't believe me."

It wasn't a question, but it was true. She frowned and managed to free herself this time. "So you're telling me someone used magic to get me to dress like this and come here?"

"It's the only reasonable explanation I can think of."

"That's a reasonable explanation?"

He only smiled at her again, staying close. She hated how he liked to stay so close. She turned away and walked closer to the street, though during this time of night, even that was deserted. She rubbed her arms up and down, almost grateful that he kept her distracted from the freezing temperatures. It wasn't cold enough to see her breath, but in this outfit, it didn't need to be.

"Magic doesn't exist." she repeated.

"I knew you wouldn't believe me." His tone, so cocky, so casual, made her turn back to him.

"Fine, you were right, I don't believe you. I don't believe in magic. Are you happy?"

"Not currently, but you could make me happy." He glanced down and then back up. She flushed though she knew her outfit welcomed such responses she didn't put on this outfit.

"That's it, I'm going home." She wasn't getting any honest answers out of him. She had no idea what was going on but she didn't trust him at all. He was insane at best. That explained a lot, like why he'd go into a library to hit on the one person there who'd turn him down. She turned to go, walking out to the street and hoped she wasn't too far from home. She didn't want to walk very far in this outfit; her feet were already starting to hurt.

"Wait." He chased after her, for the first time not sounding like he was mocking her.

"I'm not letting you drive me home or whatever." She could not let him know even close to where she lived. He was insane, and he fixated on her for some reason.

"Don't worry darling, I'm no Prince Charming." He smirked at her again, but pulled out a card. It was blank, except for his name and a number scrawled under it. "Take this." He said as he looked straight into her eyes and placed it firmly against her hand. She frowned but couldn't look away as she slipped it into a back pocket of the skirt. "Don't throw it away." he added, and then let her go. Clara blinked twice and then turned away, her mind feeling odd. She walked out on to the street, glanced back, and then walked away.

He didn't move from the alleyway until long after the click of her heels faded away.

---------

It took her an hour to get home, most of it walking. She could have ridden the subway longer but when a bum leered at her a bit longer than she liked she got off. She didn't like wearing clothes like this. She didn't like that she was sending off signals that she didn't want anyone to receive and she didn't like creepy men old enough to be her father staring at her breasts. It was a relief to get home. She locked all three locks on her door, went to her bedroom and stripped. She pulled out her rattiest t-shirt and baggiest sweats before she covered her bare feet with thick puke colored socks. She wanted to be as sexless as possible for a while, and she was cold. She pulled on a jacket over her t-shirt as she headed to the kitchen.

The clock on her microwave glared midnight at her, but she ignored it as she pulled out a wine glass and the red wine she bought for special company over a year ago. She never had anyone who wanted it, and she needed something now. It took a few minutes of inner debate, and a desire to screw her latest diet, before she went for her emergency supply of chocolate too. She wanted to be healthy, at least that's what she told herself, but she had very few luxuries in her life that she could afford and she had a bad night.

Besides, being healthy was expensive. She nibbled at the chocolate as she let the wine breath before she poured a generous amount into her glass and went to the sliding glass door. The walk home did little to clear her mind of its confusion. None of the scenarios she ran though her head made sense. How could anyone get her out of her bed when she knew she fell asleep, into an outfit she didn't even own (though thankfully the underwear was her own), and an hour from her home to meet a man she only met once?

Magic almost did seem to be the only reasonable solution.

Clara let out a sigh and sipped the wine. It was cheap, but good for its price range. She sipped it again and opened up the sliding glass door. It was cold out, but in her own clothes, she felt okay. She pulled the jacket a little closer as she stepped out onto the postage stamp balcony and looked at her favorite part of her apartment. The sky spilled out over her, if only for a little while, before buildings got in the way. Her apartment looked out into the courtyard, giving her glorious space in the sky, and even the courtyard was nice in the summer when she could sit out here and watch kids run and yell, or watch the parents pretend to listen and gossip.

Now it was empty; even the teenagers who snuck out had ether deserted it for better places or had returned to their rooms to catch some sleep before school tomorrow. Clara enjoyed the solitude that night could provide. She drank more of her wine, ate more of her chocolate and did her best to not think of work tomorrow, handsome insane men, or why she was awake in the first place. She just wanted to enjoy the silence for as long as she could.

Of course, as soon as she thought that she heard the loud ravings of a drunken neighbor. She looked down the balcony to see her neighbor stumble in. She relaxed a little as she recognized Frank from next door. He was harmless, even when drunk. He also barely realized Clara was a woman, which is how she liked men best. He worked hard at his job, treated his mother well, owned his own apartment, and went from wrong woman to wrong woman wondering why he never dated anyone nice. Clara could tell him it was because he never saw nice girls, preferring to chase the bad ones, but he never asked so she never told. Besides, she highly doubted the thirty three year old man wanted advice from his twenty one year old neighbor.

Clara sighed and sipped more wine as she looked down at him. She could hear his ravings clear as day. He was dumped again. She knew it wouldn't be long before someone would start to yell at him, so she took pity.

"Frank, you're going to wake up the whole apartment building at this rate." she yelled down. He stopped and turned to look up at her balcony.

"Did I wake you?" he asked, his voice slurring a little.

"No, I was awake. Do you want to talk?"

Frank nodded so exaggerated that she could see it. He then disappeared into the building. She turned back into her apartment, glancing around and relieved she kept it so clean. She tided up the small mess she made since she got here, and debated pouring him a glass of wine too. She could tell he was already a little drunk. Before she could make up her mind, he knocked at the door. She checked the peak hole, just in case, before she unlocked the door and let him. Frank answered her question when he stumbled in with a half empty six pack. He stood up straight and looked her carefully in the eye. The vague drunken brown eye stare reminded her of the vividly clear and sober green eyed one. She struggled not to flush and was glad she could blame the wine if she did.

"Are you old enough to drink young lady?" he asked her, almost moving the beer behind him.

"I'm twenty one Frank, remember? June?"

"Right, right," He nodded and moved it back in front before he went to her couch and almost collapsed into it. Clara sighed a little. Frank was never a handsome man, but he was always a sweet one. His thinning brown hair didn't look any better all messed up, nor did the stubble show off his weak chin. His stained shirt hung awkwardly off his thin frame. Clara wished to help get him cleaned up but didn't want to step out of bounds. Frank felt like an older brother and she wanted to care for him, but he never stuck around long enough to make her feel comfortable in really helping him. "Well then join me." He offered her a bottle and after a moment's hesitation, she took it. She opened it and took a sip. It wasn't wine, but it wasn't horrible. She drank some more and settled back.

Frank was already ranting and raving again about his latest mistake. She listened as best she could, and didn't point out how this was the same story as his last ex, and the ex before that. Did he not notice a pattern? Did he not see the problem here? She folded her lips and concentrated on nursing the beer. She didn't want to get too drunk, or stay too sober, tonight.

"It gets hard to believe there really is anyone out there for me after a while. How do you feel about it all?" he asked, surprising her. He never asked for her opinion before.

"I don't know. I don't really see much of a point I guess." She colored a little as she knew part of the point.

"You don't have your eye on any young man?"

"Not really." She sipped more of the beer. "You date. You know how often it hurts, how often when two people get together they don't want the same things and they take what the other won’t give. In the end, it just hurts, everyone hurts you, and I don't see the point in inviting them to be closer so they can hurt you more."

Frank nodded in sagely agreement and drained his beer before he opened the last one.

"I just wish things were how I used to think they would be. I work hard. I care for people. I'm a good friend, but I just end up a long. I just want that one person that won't leave me alone." He looked down at the beer, his rage giving away suddenly to honest depression. It was easy to keep her distance when he was mad, but when the mask fell she found herself getting up and sitting closer to him. "Don't you get tired of being alone?"

"Of course Frank, no one wants to be alone, but people always end up alone at some time. You have to learn to deal with yourself alone, get comfortable that way."

"I know, but don't you imagine how nice it would be?" he asked and turned to touch her. It was a platonic touch, a comforting touch that made her smile. His hand on her arm, just a light touch that meant nothing more than 'prove I'm not alone'. She reached out and touched his shoulder. "Can't you see how nice it would be?" he asked.

Then she did.

The world around her changed. Her body melted away like in a dream until she was nothing more than an observer. Her apartment shifted into Frank's, but nicer, better, bigger. Frank still sat there, only his arm wasn't around her anymore, but his ex, and she wasn't angry at him. She cuddled into him, as sweet and passive as a kitten in spring. Frank smiled as he mumbled something she couldn't entirely here. His ex giggled before he sat back and talked about a day that never happened. He smiled, large and content, as he sat on the couch, cuddling and talking about his day.

It was his dream.

The knowledge hit her hard, and came from no where but she knew it was true. This was Frank's dream. She noticed the wedding rings on both the people's fingers and almost sighed from it all. It was such a simple dream, such a sweet dream, and it wasn't real.

That knowledge slammed reality back. Her body, her apartment, was back in a blink. She felt dizzy from the sudden change, her mind whirling in confusion. What just happened? What was that? She struggled to find her place when Frank grabbed her wrist in his arm; hard. She looked over at her friend and blinked.

"Frank?" she asked, her voice a soft whisper.

"Bring it back." He didn't look like himself. The depression was gone, in its place was a deep hunger Clara didn't understand.

"Bring what back?"

"The dream! You made it happen, bring it back!" He pulled her closer, his grip getting tighter.

Her heart started to pound as she tried to tug back. She didn't know where all this fear came from; her mind couldn't keep up with the world. She tried to get free but Frank wouldn't let go. She pulled hard on her arm, almost falling off the couch as all she did was tug Frank on her. She screamed once but his hand blocked it off.

"Bring it back." he demanded, his voice too quiet for neighbors to over hear but loud enough to send her frightened heart jumping higher. She grabbed reached out, now struggling to breath around his hand. Her hand landed on her half full beer bottle and she grabbed the neck. She slammed the glass against Frank's head before she could think about it. Beer spilled over them both as his hand released her. She didn't waste time. She scrambled free and straight to her bedroom. She thanked God for the lock she installed and quickly locked it before she tugged a chair she had in there for getting ready in the morning under the door knob. She fell back. It took only a few minutes of thought to realize there was no way out and she cursed herself for running in, not out. She turned and saw her cell phone on her nightstand where she placed it last. She grabbed it and dialed 9-1 before she hesitated.

How could she explain what happened without pressing serious charges? Her entire body trembled but if she called the police, she knew what crime Frank would be charged with.

Attempted rape.

She knew, even now, as her body trembled and she struggled to not cry, she knew he didn't want to rape her. She didn't even really think he wanted to hurt her.

Bring it back.

He saw it too, that vision or whatever. He saw it. He wanted it back. Tears spilled over her eyes as she collapsed at the side of her bed with Frank still pounding at her door. What could she do? Arrest one of the few friends she had? Or...she turned her head to the side and saw the skirt she gleefully freed herself from not that long ago.

You wouldn't believe me. I live in the Magic Quarter.

Would Korbin know what just happened? That vision wasn't normal, and Frank saw it. Unless he put something in the beer, which Clara highly doubted. She didn't think Frank did drugs when he was in college and it was easier to get them, why would he seek them out now and give some to her? Clara reached for the skirt and pulled out the card. She winced as she hard a large thump at her door and her shaking hands started to dial. No matter what Korbin was a big guy, bigger than Frank, he could get rid of Frank without the police getting involved, hopefully.

"Yo." Korbin answered the phone with a sleep slur that at any other time would have made Clara's stomach twist in guilt.

"Korbin? It's, uh, Clara, from earlier."

"I remember Darling." The sleepy slur was gone and she could hear him smirk.

"I think something happened, something big."

"And what's that?"

"My neighbor is pounding at my bedroom door asking me to bring back, I don't know what to call it, and I guess a vision of something. Of a dream. We both saw it." she added, hoping she didn't sound insane. Of course, she sounded insane. She was calling a man she hated at one in the morning asking for his help.

"A dream?"

"Yes, he was telling me what he wanted and then we both saw it. His dream. It was, I don't know how to explain it. It felt real, but it wasn't. When I realized that, it went away."

"Christ." Now even the smirk was gone from his voice. He sounded almost mad at her. "Fine, where do you live?"

"What?"

"Yeah, I need to come over there, now, and we're going to have to go on a little trip, so get dressed, and tell me where you live, I'll take care of your neighbor."

Clara hesitated just long enough to have Frank throw himself at her door, and then she gave up. She told him her address and he assured her he'd be there in half an hour, and then hung up. Clara looked up at the door and sighed. She reeked of beer, but the single bathroom in this place was on the other side of her bedroom door. She closed her cell phone and tried to find anything she could use as a weapon. She found only a thick hardcover book on loan from the library and sighed as she settled in the back of the room with her weapon and waited.

---------

True to his word, Korbin showed up in half an hour. In five minutes, Frank was out cold, and in ten, he was safe in his bed with only a headache that he could blame on beer to wake up too in the morning. Clara didn't know what to say. Korbin stood in her apartment, looking out of place and better than ever for the hassle. She felt awkward, rude and worse of all, shy. She opened her mouth half a dozen times, as he walked around the apartment, moving like the tiger again, to say something before she stopped, unable to think of anything to say.

Finally, he broke the silence.

"No questions?"

"Many questions, I don't know where to start."

"Anywhere is fine."

"What happened? Why did Frank react like that? Why did we see the same vision? Who are you? Why did you give me your number? Why didn't you sound surprised? Where are we going?"

Korbin smirked and pulled out a cigarette.

"This is a non-smoking apartment." she said before she could stop herself. He stopped before he light it and then smiled, putting both the lighter and the cigarette away

"You sure ask a lot of questions, uh, let's see if I can remember correctly. I wasn't surprised because I suspected something like this was going to happen, which is why I didn't give you my number. I could think of only two reasons why someone would send you as a bribe, and to be honest the first reason doesn't make any sense."

"What's the first reason?" she asked, very confused. He grinned once.

"Sex, darling."

Her cheeks burned and she looked down to the ground before she glanced at him. "And why wouldn't that make sense?"

"Because while I have no idea what you're like, in my career I get a lot of offers for sex. Sex as a bribe is nothing special."

He said it so casually, as if that made perfect sense but her mind swirled in confusion. She struggled to find one question, one line of questions that would lead her to understanding.

"What was the second reason?"

"That you're like me and someone thought I would enjoy your Theme."

"Theme?"

Korbin paused and then nodded. "I guess I really should explain the basics, sit down." He ordered, and sat down on the couch himself. He stretched out his long legs, taking up the entire couch by himself. Clara sat down in her favorite chair and waited patiently. "Like I told you Clara, magic does exist. People are born with magic every day. Most of them are born to people with magic user parents, but some are born to normal parents. Eventually they discover their abilities, and like most people, they gather to those like them. Most magic users gather to the cities then, and thrive in the 'Magic Quarter' of the city. The Magic Quarter tends to be in a worse part of town because we're much less likely to be bothered by rules outside our own. We prefer to stick to ourselves. Every magic user can use magic based on a Theme, and can do anything their Theme allows. Some Themes are powerful, some are weak, and some are only useful in the right situation."

"What's your Theme?"

"I'm a rare case, as far as I've found out, me and my brother are the only two people to ever have two Themes. Mine are Emotion and Chaos." He pulled out his cigarette again, but didn't light it. He just ran it though his fingers as he talked. "Its how I knew to free you."

"What do you mean?"

"When I approached you the first time it's because you amused me, such an odd mix of emotion, confidence and shyness, fear and bravery; then when I flirted with you, surprise, more shyness, and almost no interest. That's rare."

"I'm sure." she struggled to not sound sarcastic, but it was hard. Korbin only grinned though.

"But when we met the second time there was nothing; you felt nothing. You were forward when before you rejected every attempt, and I was curious. So I kissed you."

"Why did you kiss me?"

"Because it's easier to use magic on someone when you're touching them, the more intimate the touch, the easier the magic. I kissed you and searched your emotion for the block; I found it and used chaos to break it open. Then you woke up then."

"And you thought I'd go home and give someone a vision?"

"Clara, you don't believe in magic and yet someone was using you for your magic. I guessed you'd have no control and eventually it'd leak out. I know the right place to take you, the proper place to help you learn all you need to know."

"All I need to know?"

"Yes, about control, and about this new world you stumbled into."

"What about who controlled me in the first place?"

"Well he won't be able to teach you that."

"Who's he?"

"My brother," Korbin stood up and slipped the cigarette into his mouth. "I'm going to take you there. He's expecting us."

"Tonight? It's almost two."

"We're up, he's up, now, we might as well get it done."

Clara looked down, feeling weird about barging in on someone, waking them up, at two in the morning.

"The longer you hesitate darling, the later it's going to get."

"Excuse me, but I just feel—"

"Guilty, I know." He smirked and offered her his hand. "Come, we might as well get going."

Clara looked at his hand and sighed before she stood up without his help and went to get her purse.

It took them almost fifteen minutes to get to his brother's apartment. She looked around surprised when they walked out of the subway entrance into the nicer part of the city. She pulled her fresh coat tighter around her as she followed Korbin's quick steps down the street. She had to take two steps for his everyone but she kept up and she didn't complain. She wanted to get this meeting over as soon as possible. She was supposed to be up in four hours now. Clara had no idea how she was going to handle work tomorrow, but she knew she had too. She couldn't afford to miss time.

"Stop stressing." Korbin said at last, making her blush.

"I don't see how it's your business if I'm stressed or not."

"It is when you're broadcasting it to the world."

"I am not."

"You are to me."

Clara frowned and felt her temper flare up again before exhaustion killed all emotion. She couldn't even summon up the energy to try to figure out how she got to the nice part of town with a man who believed in magic, which might be real after all, taking her to his brother's so she could learn to control her own. Oh God, she had magic if this all wasn't some horrible lie.

She pulled her purse tighter to her, her hand delving in to touch the pepper spray she carried with her. She promised herself she wouldn't go into that apartment unless she was sure this wasn't some kind of scam. She wouldn't be here at all if it wasn't for one thing.

She knew that vision, that dream, whatever, was real. Korbin couldn't have faked that, anymore than he could have gotten her out of her bed and into those clothes. There was something going on, and she wanted to find out what.

"We're here." Korbin stopped in front of a rather nice building and pushed the button to the intercom. The loud buzz made Clara jump, and jerk free from her circling thoughts. Korbin smirked at her again but there was something strained in it now. She frowned but gave up thinking about it when a voice came though the intercom.

"Come in." The static made it hard to here but a different buzzer announced the door was open. Korbin opened it and stepped inside while she darted in just before it closed and locked. He led her to an elevator. She wanted to look around the lobby, much nicer than her own, for a moment but he didn't stop moving.

Once in the elevator he didn't say a word as he pushed the button for the sixteenth floor, comfortably in the middle of this building, and settled in for the wait. She glanced at him, wondering if she was imagining the sudden amount of tension in the man's stance. He seemed so casual before but now, if her sleep deprived brain wasn't making things up for her, he looked almost angry, or he would if he wasn't putting so much energy into looking blank. Clara looked away just as he turned his head to look at her. She thought she heard a soft intake of breath, indicating he was about to speak, when the elevator dinged and opened its doors to the right floor.

Once again silent, he moved across the hallways with a plush rug softening his footsteps as he led her down the hall and around the corner to the right apartment. He knocked on the door. She just caught up as the door opened, his brother wasn't one for waiting she guessed, and she gasped.

There were two Korbins.