The Corps

Disclaimer - Please read carefully

The following story contains graphic descriptions of gay sex. If it is illegal for you to view such material due to your age or location, or if the material is likely to offend you in any way then please proceed no further. The Story also contains fictional representations of real people, the key word here is fictional and the stories are in no way intended to reflect or imply the sexual orientation or any other aspect of the character of any real person.

Author's Note: The following story features Taylor and Zac Hanson and Prince William in a fantasy adventure.

This is the final installment of a much longer story and is unlikely to make much sense unless you have read the earlier parts. Parts 1 to 6 are available at the Nifty Archive or on my own webpage: http://gymnopedies.tripod.com.

Gymnopedies March 2001 gym@mailandnews.com

The Corps 7: The Power of a Sentinel

The Corps base was almost silent. Apart from a few individuals whose duties kept them up through the nocturnal hours, everyone else was asleep. This was particularly true for the Corps members themselves; that small group of teenagers possessed of incredible powers. For them it had been a day they would not forget in a hurry; a day that had tested them to the very limit of their abilities. Little wonder then that they were lost in silent, exhausted slumber. There were however, two exceptions:

The two teens sat facing each other on the bed; facing each other but not looking at each other. The silence had long since become uncomfortable but neither knew what to say or do to make things better. In truth they loved each other with an intensity that was almost painful, but a whole year of hurt and loss and separation stood between them; a yawning chasm that they both longed to bridge but didn't know how to start.

"I think I'd better go." The younger of the two made to get up. but the older caught his arm.

"No. Stay."

"I think it would be best if I went. I'll share Adam's room tonight."

"Adam's in with Paul."

"Then that means Adam's room is empty." He once again tried to move away but the restraining hand on his arm held him back.

"I don't want you to go. I want you to stay here, with me. I thought I'd lost you forever, but now your here, really here. This is something I've dreamed about so many times over the past year. I've missed you Dayle, you can't imagine how much."

The younger teen turned his head away, staring at the ceiling, and his voice cracked with pent up emotion as he answered:

"Those long months of torture and agony, connected to McCray's evil machines, I kept telling myself that there would be an end to the pain, that you would come and find me and we would be together again. But of course you didn't come..."

"I didn't know..."

"No, let me finish, Mark. I'm not blaming you; I couldn't blame you. I know how you fought to stop me going to work for McCray in the first place, and I know there is nothing in the world that would have stopped you from coming for me if you had known what was happening. Convincing myself that you were coming to save me was a fantasy, I knew that at the time, but it was the only way that I could keep going through it all. What I am trying to say is that if it hadn't been for thinking about you I would never have lived through those three months.

"Then Thomas appeared. He took me to the Sentinels and they made me make all sorts of promises about having no contact with the Corps or anything connected with my former life. For the next nine months there was never a day went by without I didn't think about you. I even watched you occasionally from a distance. I knew how much my disappearence had hurt you, and it hurt me in turn to see what I was doing to you. I should have said to hell with the Sentinel's and their promises, but I didn't because I was scared. Scared that they would take away their gift of life and that the awful pain would come back. And so I let you continue to think that I was dead. You should hate me, Mark, for that. For putting you through those months of misery.

Mark reached out his hand and gently but firmly took hold of Dayle's chin, pulling the younger boy's head around. Dayle reluctantly allowed his eyes to meet Mark's.

"You did what you had to do. If you had come back to me sooner you would almost certainly now be dead for real. All I care about is that you are here with me now. The past year just seems like a bad dream, so let's put it behind us and look to the future." Mark released Dayle's chin and with a smile, affectionately brushed away a strand of long dark hair that had fallen over the boy's eyes.

A second later they were in each other's arms.

Eventually, after a long time, they pulled apart. Dayle's usually serious face split in a mischeivous grin. "Are you tired?"

"Quite. Why?" A pause then the grin was returned. "Well, perhaps not quite THAT tired."

"Good." Dayle took hold of the bottom of Mark's shirt and slowly pulled it over his head. "You know what?" he said, his tongue flicking quickly across his lips and he ran his hand lightly across the nineteen year old's smooth chest. "I think I quite liked Circe's choice of clothing. You looked unbelievably sexy in that loin-cloth thing. Especially when you were all shiny with sweat."

Mark pretended to look annoyed. "Oh, so you like to see me dripping with sweat do you. We'd better see if we can work up a sweat then." He lunged forwards, grabbing Dayle's shoulders and they toppled over onto the bed.

For the next few minutes they wrestled together, laughing. Mark was heavier than Dayle and so had a distinct advantage and it wasn't long before Dayle was pinned on his back with Mark astride his stomach.

Mark looked down at his prisoner and his laughter suddenly disappeared. "I want to see you naked."

Dayle replied with a small, nervous nod.

With trembling hands, Mark removed Dayle's clothing, slowly exposing more and more of the boy's slim, pale skinned body. He left the brief's until last, and as these were removed Dayle's fully erect member sprang free and lay twitching on his stomach. For a few seconds, Mark watched it as if hypnotised, before moving his eyes up along Dayle's lithe torso, coming to rest on his face. "You're just as beautiful as I remember," he said, softly. He lowered his head, their eyes locked together, and slowly their lips met. At first the kiss was hesitant, uncertain, like two fumbling, inexperienced teenagers on their first date, but it quickly built in intensity as long suppressed passions came to the fore. Mark broke the kiss and moved his attentions down to Dayles chest, revelling at the smoothness of the skin beneath his lips and tongue.

Dayle's hands held firmly onto Mark's head, his fingers tangled in his lover's hair, and his breath came in short, heavy gasps as he experienced feelings that had only been available to him in dreams for such a long time. He gave a moan of pleasure and his body shuddered involuntarily as Mark's strong fingers wrapped themselves firmly around his swollen tool and began pumping it slowly up and down. "Oh, shit!... Mark!... Argh!" This was too much for the long deprived teen. Spasms of pleasure shook his body as long streamers of cum arched from the tip of his jerking cock, splashing across his own stomach and Mark's face.

"Wow, you were certainly ready for that," Mark observed, wiping the worst of the mess from his face with his shirt.

"I'm sorry, Mark. I just couldn't hold back. It's been such a long time..."

Mark pressed his fingers over Dayle's mouth. "Stop apologising," he said, his face serious. The he gave a broad grin. "I did have a hand in it as well you know." He kissed the younger teen lightly on the lips. "Besides, I haven't finished with you yet." He climbed off the bed and slowly and seductively removed the remainder of his own clothing. His cock, when it came into view, was fully hard, pointing upwards and outwards and it swayed slightly as he once more climbed onto the bed.

The sight set off new stirrings in Dayle's groin, and Mark's touch soon finished the process of bringing the recently spent shaft back to full readiness.

This time they proceeded more slowly. Exploring and rediscovering each others aroused bodies with gently moving, probing fingers and lips and tongues. Rekindling the love they had felt for each other, a love that had endured thoughout pain and loss and enforced absence. There was passion in their love making, but it was restrained, allowing them to prolong this act of togetherness to the full and orgasm when it came, happened for them almost exactly together. Their reconciliation was complete.

Aterwards they showered together, gently soaping each other's bodies, towelling each other dry. Then they lay together in each other's arms, naked between the sheets, each enjoying the feeling of physical contact with the other, soft warm flesh pressed against soft warm flesh.

Dayle's eyes were closed and his breathing gradually fell into the slow, relaxed, regular pattern that indicated deep sleep. Mark smiled to himself as he gently pulled his arm out from beneath his partner, being careful not to disturb him. Today he had regained the person he loved more than anything. Tomorrow he had to try to regain his postion in the Corps; yes tomorrow he would be going to do battle with the Corps Council.

Nathan let go of a deep sigh as he straightened his hair in the mirror. He'd had a disturbed night of unpleasant dreams; not entirely surprising considering what he'd been through in the previous 24 hours: drugged, kidnapped, threatened with rape or worse, going into mental battle with a psychotic female who had powers that were little short of godlike. Small wonder that the same psychotic female had haunted his dreams. Now, on what should have been a morning to relax and recover from all these harrowing events he had discovered that nightmares were possible while awake as well as while asleep. Zac was going to teach him to rollerblade!

Actually it had been Taylor's idea. Mark had informed them after breakfast that he had some business to take care of and that the newer Corps members, Nathan included even though in his case the title was still unofficial, were free to amuse themselves for the day. Taylor had immediately come up with the idea of teaching William to rollerblade and of course Zac had invited himself and Nathan along as well. So before Nathan even had time to blink, let alone think up any sort of valid and reasonable objection, he found that the restful morning he had planned for himself had evaporated leaving behind the unpleasant prospect of scraped knees and bruised elbows. When he had eventually had chance to get a word in, Zac had dismissed these worries by pointing out that his knees and elbows would be protected, and besides, he had added in a coda that Nathan found far from reassuring, if he suffered any serious physical damage Taylor would be on hand to heal him.

Nathan jumped in surprise at the gentle touch on his shoulder.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. You were daydreaming." Taylor smiled, apologetically.

"Oh, that's ok, I didn't hear you come in. I guess I'm still a bit jumpy after yesterday."

"That's hardly surprising. How are you feeling today?"

"I didn't sleep too well last night, but apart from that I'm fine. Having Zac around helps."

Taylor grinned. "Yeah, Zac has a knack for taking people's minds off things. It's good to see the two of you hitting it off together."

"I still can't believe it; Zac wanting to be with me."

"You'd better believe it. I think the expression 'head over heels in love' applies very well to Zac at the moment. You should have seen the state he was in yesterday when he thought you were in danger. The only thing he could think about was finding you."

Nathan blushed and looked down, shuffling his feet.

"Come on," said Taylor with a laugh, "let's go find the others before they come looking for us. I thought we were going to have to go out and buy some new blades and stuff, but it turns out that there are some upstairs. We should be able to find everything we need."

Nathan followed Taylor out of the room. He still wasn't over the moon at the idea of rollerblading, but if he was spending time with Zac then things couldn't possibly be too bad. As they made their way down the corridor they passed the locked room in which Brian was confined. Almost involuntarily, Nathan shied away from the door, his face paling slightly.

Immediately, Taylor's arm was around Nathan's shoulders. "He can't hurt you now. He's locked away and no longer has any powers. Later, Mark and the others are going to take him before the Corps Council and they'll decide what to do with him. The best thing you can do is try to forget about him."

"Yeah, you're right." Suddenly, when faced with the prospect of what might have happened had things turned out differently, the idea of rollerblading no longer seemed so bad. Nathan smiled and his step lightened. "Before today is out I'll be blading better than Zac."

They had waited until the Council meeting would be well underway. That way, they could be sure that almost all of the Council members would be present. There were gasps of surprise as Mark and Adam appeared in the council chamber, unannouced and obviously completely unexpected. It was a standing rule that powers must never be used within the Council chamber and teleportation directly into the chamber was a clear breach of this rule. Mark suppressed a smile; he'd deliberately decided upon a dramatic entrance in order to catch the Council members off guard and soften them up for the further surprises he had in store.

"What are you doing here? You've no right to attend this meeting; you're suspended." Mike Naylor spoke up. A well built 25 year old, he was a typical jock, more muscle than brain. His place on the Council was due almost entirely to Brian's manuevering and as such this placed him high on Mark's list of suspected conspirators.

Mike's outburst earned him a glare from John Ellis, the Council leader. At 32, John was one of the oldest Corps members. Seven years earlier, when Mark had been taken in by the Corps as a young, homeless runaway, John had been his base leader. They had been friends since that time; John had been very much Mark's mentor, helping him with the discovery of his own abilites and in his steady rise from rescued boy, to Corps member and ultimately to base leader. John had actually voted against Mark's appointment to the Council, citing his age and inexperience, but had been the first to congratulate his friend when Mark was voted into the seat anyway.

"Even though Mike is speaking out of turn, he is right Mark," said the Council leader.. "We will be prepared to overlook the matter of your rather unorthodox entrance, but unless you have a very good reason for being here I shall have to ask you to leave." John's voice was regretful and the concern he felt for his friend was apparent in his eyes.

"Oh, I have good reason, John." Mark paused for effect, turning his head to make eye contact with each of the eight faces who were in effect his judge and jury. Two seats were vacant behind the semi-circular table: his own and of course that of the traitor Brian. "I have very good reason." He stepped forwards until the front of his thighs were almost incontact with the table.

"Most of you have known me for a long time. You know that the Corps is my life; my family..."

"So you've come to beg us to lift the suspension," Mike interrupted.

""No, Mike, I haven't. I don't intend to beg for anything. What I'm here for is to explain to you how my action against the FBI was entirely warranted. But, I've also come here for something much more important." Mark leaned forwards, pressing his knuckles against the hard wooden surface of the table top. His head was now almost level with those of his audience. "I've come to expose corruption within this Council and to ensure that any further corruption is rooted out and properly dealt with."

There followed several moments of stunned silence. Then everyone tried to speak at once. His openning thrust delivered, Mark stepped back, ignoring the barrage of questions, protests and counter accusations being hurled in his direction.

Eventually John managed to regain some sort of order. "That's quite a statement, Mark," said the Council leader. "I hope you have some evidence to back it up."

"Let me speak and I'll give you all the evidence you want." Mark took the silent nod from John as an invitation to continue. "First I'd like to deal with the incident involving the FBI, since this is in a way relevant to what comes later.

"Cast your minds back to around a year ago. We received a request from McCray at the FBI for the loan of a telepath to help them in their investigations. Brian suggested that Dayle should go; an idea that I opposed at the time. But following arguments from Brian that Dayle was the best candidate, I was out-voted. Dayle went to work for McCray and of course you all know what happened shortly after that."

"I hope this isn't going to turn into a vendetta against Brian," Mike spoke out, loudly. "We all know how you've never liked him, even before that incident, and how you've always blamed him for the death of your boyfriend. Don't go stirring things up about him now when he isn't even here to defend himself."

"Mike! That's enough." John's formerly soft voice had developed an iron edge. "Mark hasn't accused Brian or anyone else of anything yet. Let's just hear him out."

"Thanks." Mark gave Mike a long hard stare before continuing. "As Mike has already reminded everyone, Dayle and I were lovers. When I heard of his death I went to pieces and it was a long time before I could function with anything like normality. Eventually though I did manage to put it behind me and Dayle became part of my past. Until, that is, a few days ago." Here Mark glanced at Adam. He had promised the young Asian that he would do his best to avoid direct mention of the incident involving Leo and Scott.

"A short time ago, something happened to cause me to believe that Dayle was not in fact dead, but was being held captive by McCray and subjected to horrible experiments in order to discover the source of his telepathic power."

At this point, John was shaking his head sadly. "Oh, Mark, we were all devastated to hear of Dayle's death. The rest of us can only hope and pray that we never have to face what you must have gone through. But you have to let go. It's a year now since Dayle died. I'm not saying you should forget him; obviously you could never do that, but it's time you stopped clutching at straws and accepted that he is really gone. He's not coming back."

Mark allowed his expression to fall into a sad smile as he gazed around the table. "You wouldn't believe the number of times I've repeated those very words to myself. At one stage I almost believed them. Almost." He turned his head and gave Adam a nod.

Without a word the young asian vanished, resulting in murmers around the table at yet another flouting of protocol. Mike opened his mouth to protest, but before he had chance to speak Adam was back.

Gasps of shock and surprise reverberated around the room. Adam had not returned alone. Dayle stepped forwards and he and Mark embraced briefly before Mark turned his attention back to his stunned audience. "But, you see, he did come back."

Several of the council members were on their feet. One of them, Jason Mallen, a good loooking 23 year old who had known Dayle particularly well, hurried around the table, tears in his eyes as he pulled the youth to him in a tight hug.

John was one of the few still in his seat. For a moment he seemed lost for words, then he finally managed to find his voice. "Mark, I don't know what to say. This is marvellous news. I'm so happy for you. He grinned broadly. Mark returned the smile, but something nagged at the back of his mind. He knew John well after all these years; he was sure that before the smile he had detected a momentary tightening of his old friends mouth and a coldness in his eyes. It had lasted less than a second. Mark put it down to surprise and dismissed the thought. Of course John was happy for him, why should he be anything else?

Several minutes later, John apparently decided that the disruption had gone on long enough and tried to bring the meeting to some sort of order. "Would all council members please retake their seats," he requested, his voice polite but firm. "Mark has made some serious allegations regarding corruption in our midst, allegations that need to be addressed. It's good to see Dayle is alive and well, Mark, but that in itself does not prove anything."

"No, of course it doesn't," Mark agreed. "So you had better hear the rest of the story." He went on to tell them how he and several other Corps members had visited McCray with the intention of freeing Dayle or at the very least of finally getting to the truth of the telepath's disappearence. However they arrived to find that Dayle had already taken his own revenge on the FBI man.

"So it is Dayle that is responsible for McCray's current condition," observed John.

"Yes, it was," replied Dayle, without the slightest trace of guilt or regret in his voice. For the next few minutes the young teen recounted his experiences at the hands of the FBI section chief. As he spoke he faced straight ahead, not looking at anyone, his eyes glazed. At times his voice shook as he described the horrible tortures he had endured. Mark put his arm around the boy's shoulders to try and support and comfort him.

By the time Dayle finished, several of the council members were sitting with their mouths open, their faces pale with shock and anger at what they had just heard.

John cleared his throat before speaking. "I can't even begin to imagine how much you must have suffered. But..." he paused a drew a deep breath. "But that doesn't excuse what you did. You are a Corps member, a very powerful Corps member, and with that power comes responsiblity. Whatever McCray had done, you had no right to act as judge and jury. McCray should have been dealt with through the proper channels. Unfortunately, harsh though it may seem, this council now has a responsiblity to see that your vigilante actions do not go unpunished."

Even before John had finished speaking, voices were being raised in protest from amongst the other council members. Dayle seemed to accept the declaration without expression, but Mark allowed open anger to show on his face. He spoke through gritted teeth. "If you want someone to punish then I suggest you look to the person who set this up in the first place. It was Brian who was so insistant on Dayle going to work for the FBI, and it's my belief that Brian knew exactly what that 'work' entailed."

"I knew it," Mike shouted, half raising from his chair. "I knew you were going to try and blame everything on Brian when he isn't even here."

Mark breathed deeply to calm himself. Now wasn't a good time to lose his temper; he needed all his wits about him. "You know what Mike? I agree with you. Brian should be given a chance to speak." Once again he nodded towards Adam, a pre-arranged signal for the telepath to send a message to Paul who was waiting back at the Corps base.

Once again there were gasps in the chamber as Paul and Brian materialised. Brian stood staring at his feet, a large, purple bruise clearly visible beneath his left eye.

"What the hell is going on here?" Mike was on his feet, his face red with fury. "You've gone too far this time Mark. What did you do? Beat a confession out of him?"

Mark shook his head. "There was no need for that. His crimes are there in his mind for any able telepath to see." He held up his hand to silence the protests. "You have no need to remind me that Corps members do not rummage around in each others minds uninvited. The fact is that Brian is not fit to be a Corps member. The bruise on his face was a result of the kidnapping of an eleven year old boy whom he intended to force into having sex. This wasn't the first time he'd done something similar, but it turned out that this particular boy wasn't anywhere near as helpless as Brian thought."

"That's the most stupid thing I've ever heard," said Mike, coming around the table. "Brian wouldn't do that." He stopped in front of his friend and Brian briefly raised his eyes until they met Mike's before looking down again. "Oh, shit, Brian! This is too much," Mike muttered, a mixture of emotions crossing his face. Suddenly he clenched his hand into a fist and drove it with as much force as he could manage into Brian's stomach. "You filthy bastard. You should have your balls ripped off, you fucking sicko!"

"Mike! That's enough." John's voice cracked like a whip."This isn't the time or the place to be sorting things out with your fists. Get back to your seat so that we can get this sorted out properly.

As Mike returned to his own side of the table, Mark bent to help Brian back to his feet. But the offer of assistance was met with a snarl of contempt. Mark shrugged and left the traitor curled on the floor, fighting to get his breath.

His expression unreadable, John placed his hands palm down on the table in front of him and addressed Mark. "I think you had better give us the full story."

"I think so," Mark agreed, "though it may take a while." As fully as he was able, Mark explained about Dayle's recruitment by the sentinels and his subsequent return. He told of how Brian had secretly been working for the rogue sentinel, Circe, and had received additional powers as a result. Next he explained how he, himself, whilst in an emotionally unstable state, had been taken by Brian to be Circe's captive and about Brian's subsequent kidnapping of Nathan, resulting in Brian losing his powers. Finally he told of the Corps attack on Circe and of how the sentinel had been destroyed. With the news of Circe's death a momentary look of fear crossed John's face, but was immediately replaced by a relieved smile.

"So you believe Circe had attempted to infiltrate the Corps?" asked the council leader.

"Not just attempted. She actually succeeded," Mark replied. "And what's more, its my belief that Brian was not the only member of the Corps council who was under her influence."

"Surely," Jason Mallen spoke up, "if you've examined Brian mind you've been able to find out who else is a spy for Circe."

Mark shook his head. "Even though Brian no longer has any special abilities, there is still a part of his mind that is somehow shielded. Both Adam and Dayle have attempted to break through but have not had any success. However, I think I now know the identity of the traitor." Slowly Mark cast his gaze around the table, meeting the eyes of each of the council members. As he reached Mike he paused.

"No way!" Mike blustered. "I'm no traitor. Anyone who claims I am is going to be sorry."

"Calm down Mike, I know your not a traitor," Mark said gently. "I admit you were pretty high up on my list, being such a good friend of Brian's. But your reaction to Brian's crimes convinced me that I was wrong to suspect you." His gaze left Mike and continued on around the table, finally coming to rest on the council leader. "Why, John?" The words were so soft they were barely audible.

For a moment John didn't react, then he gave a tight lipped smile. "You always were too smart for your own good. That's one of the reasons we needed to be rid of you. Why? You want to know why? I really wouldn't expect you to understand my reasons."

"I think you owe me the chance to try," Mark replied. "I thought we were close. We certainly were once. You were always there for me when I had a problem; when I was younger you were practically a father to me. What went wrong?"

"Plainly and simply, Circe offered me more power than you could ever dream of. Don't shake your head at me Mark, I wouldn't expect you to understand the lure of real power. That's why I never gave you the chance to join us. My big mistake came when I didn't remove you from the picture permanently. Brian wanted you dead, but I said no; sentimentality has always been my big failing. Instead, we arranged the episode with Dayle and the FBI, thinking that would keep your mind on other things and prevent you from interferring. It worked, for a while a least."

"I hope you don't expect my thanks for not letting Brian have his way," said Mark. "Even if I could forgive what you did to me, I certainly could never forgive you for the way Dayle suffered as a result of your schemes."

"I don't expect your thanks, Mark. Like I said, letting you live was a mistake. It's a little late perhaps, but I think now is the time to rectify the situation."

"MARK, SOMETHINGS WRONG!" Dayle's mental warning rang like a bell in Mark's head. "HIS MIND IS PRACTICALLY GLOWING WITH POWER."

"WHAT! HOW? HIS POWER CAME FROM CIRCE, HE JUST ADMITTED THAT HIMSELF. SHE'S DEAD! HE SHOULD ONLY HAVE HIS NORMAL ABILITES."

"DON'T ASK ME HOW," Dayle replied, "BUT AT THE MOMENT HE'S HOLDING ONTO ENOUGH ENERGY TO FRY EVERY ONE US."

Mark and Dayle's mental conversation was interrupted when John gave a short laugh. "Before I say goodbye Mark, you may be interested in the telepathic message I've just recieved from my mistress. She says she really didn't appreciate having her own roof pulled down on her head and would very much like to deal with you personally. However, she's asked me to take care of things here since she's busy elsewhere at the moment. It seems she has some unfinished business with certain friends of yours."

Mark turned to Dayle, his face white. "Circe's not dead! She gone after Taylor and William!" The words had hardly left his mouth before the air exploded around them.

"Turn! Turn! No, not like that!" The park footpath followed a neat curve; unfortunately William didn't . Taylor tried unsuccesfully to hold back laughter at the sight of the young prince sprawled inelegantly on the grass. "You were better that time," he said, trying to restore some of William's injured pride.

"You really think so?" William was sceptical. "I think I'm beginning to understand why we are born without wheels.""

"At least you spend longer on your feet than Nathan," said Taylor, indicating further along the path where Zac was skating holding the hand of a wobbling Nathan."

Willam snorted, good humouredly. "I have my suspicions that Nathan isn't quite as inept as he would have us believe. You must have noticed that every time he falls over he pulls Zac down with him. Then it seems to take the pair of them an awful long time to get up again."

"Yeah, I have noticed," Taylor grinned. "Maybe we should try it their way." He glided effortlessly to the edge of the path and helped William get back on his feet before placing his hands on the boy's shoulders and kissing him quickly on the lips.

William looked surprised and glanced around self-conciously.

"Relax, there's no one around," said Taylor.

"Oh, well, in that case..." William put his arms around Taylors waist and pulled the teen to him in a tight hug. "I think we can do better than a little peck on the lips. In fact, I want to kiss you all over."

Taylor giggled. "Perhaps that would be going a little far, even if there is no one around. We are in a public park and anyone could come by."

"I suppose I'd better curb my desires then, but just wait until we get back."

"I'll look forward to it. But until then, how about a little preview?" Taylor closed his eyes as their lips pressed together.

"Hey, Tay, break it up. We're supposed to be blading, not sucking each other's tonsils." Zac's voice brought Taylor back to the real world with a bump.

"Sometimes," Tay muttered softly, "I can see the attraction of being an only child." He sighed and turned to look at his brother. "Why don't you go and blade around the lake, Zac. See how close to the edge you can get before you fall in."

Zac scowled. "I just wanted to tell you that I need to pee."

"Erm, what exactly do you expect me to do about that, little bro?" asked Taylor, incredulous.

"I don't expect you to do anything. There's a toilet block over there." Zac indicated a brick building across the park. "I'm only telling you because I didn't want you to worry when me and Nathan disappeared."

"Nathan's going with you?"

"Of course," Zac grinned. He ran his hand over his groin. "I'm gonna be handling dangerous equipment so I might need backup."

Taylor sighed. "Get outa here! And don't the two of you be doing anything in there that could get you arrested."

"Relax Tay, you can trust me," Zac shouted over his shoulder as he and Nathan disappeared along the path.

"Yeah, about as far as can throw you, little brother," Taylor muttered. He turned back to William who was wearing a broad smile.

"I love watching the two of you together," the prince said. "You fight all the time yet it's so obvious how much you love each other underneath."

In spite of himself, Taylor returned the smile. "Zac's probably the most infuriating, frustrating person alive.In spite of that, there's something about him that you just have to love. But when he asks you to trust him, then you had better watch out!"

They were silent for a couple of minutes, enjoying the peace and quiet. Drinking the relaxed atmosphere of their surroundings.

"I wish it could always be like this," William said, eventually. "No one to bother us, no pressures. We could just forget the real world and live our lives as we wanted."

William's eyes had a glazed, distant look. Taylor gripped the prince's hand in his own and squeezed it gently. "I know that sooner or later we're going to have to go back to our real lives, but let's just enjoy what we have today. We can deal with tomorrow when it comes."

Sadly, William nodded. He pulled Taylor close and buried his face in the boy's long hair.

A cold breeze blew around them, causing Taylor to shiver. He pulled back away from William. "Zac and Nathan are a long time. Do you think we should go look for them."

"I expect they're both fine, but we can head over in that direction." William led the way over to the park bench where they had left there ordinary shoes.

Taylor noticed the look of relief on William's face at having his feet once more directly in contact with the ground. This contrasted sharply with his own feelings; walking always felt so slow and clumsy after blading.

The two of them set off to look for Zac and Nathan. William seemed lost in his own thoughts and Taylor knew his friend was thinking about what would happen at some time in the not too distant future when they would have to go the separate ways, returning to the lives that had been temporarily been put on hold. Briefly, Taylor considered whether he would be willing to give up his music, the fame, the excitement of performing and make a new life for himself with the Corps. The idea certainly had it's attractions, but deep down inside he knew that the music was his life, he could never leave it behind. He also knew that William didn't even have the luxury of choice; the prince's life was pretty much mapped out for him, and William's strong sense of duty wouldn't let him make changes even if he wanted to.

Taylor tried to think of something to lift William out of his pensive mood, but before he could speak he noticed something strange. Everything seemed to be moving slowly. They were still moving, but each step was a massive effort, like wading through a thick, sticky liquid. He turned his head to look at William, even that small motion requiring huge effort. "Whaaat's haaappeniiiing?" His words were slurred and stretched out. Quickly he swapped to telepathic communication. "WILLIAM?" Thank goodness, he could still think at normal speed.

"I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S HAPPENING. SUDDENLY IT'S SO HARD TO MOVE." William's mental voice also sounded normal.

"WHAT'S THAT?"

A few yards in front of them the air had started to blur. A hazy shape began to form, slowly coalescing into a beautiful woman; a figure all to familiar to the two young Corps members. The woman gave a rich, musical laugh; a laugh that sent a tingle of fear through Taylor's body, seeming to resonate inside bones. This could only be a bad dream, Circe was dead, crushed under tons of rock.

"I do so love a dramatic entrance." The woman's voice was perfectly pitched, not too loud, yet not too soft, rich and smooth. She gave another laugh. "It's good to see you again my young friends. I fear our previous meeting was cut a little short by the appearence of our unexpected guest. I always did find Thomas tiresome. Though he paid dearly for that little interruption." She shrugged. "Dead is dead. Let us talk of more pleasant things. You have some interesting abilites, the pair of you. This energy link you seem able to maintain is something new to me. I always have use for a healer, but a healer with the augmented abilities that you possess when the two of you are linked, well, that really is something else again. You see, in order to stay young, I require regular exposure to healing energies, energies which you possess in abundance. And so I wish to make a bargain with you." She paused as if considering her words. "Yes, a bargain, a strange concept for a sentinel. You will come and stay with me, you will apply your healing abilities to me whenever I require them. In return I will let you live."

Taylor fought to shake his head, but an enormous effort resulted in only a small movement.

"Ah," Circe continued. "I thought you might see it that way. Then let me explain to you the alternative. If you refuse to cooperate then I will compel you to use your healing on me. Unfortunately, due to the the level of compulsion required, this will almost certainly result in an unpleasant and extremely painful end for you both. Not very satisfactory for me since I won't then be able to use you in the future, and not very satisfactory for you since you will be dead."

"SHE'S MAD." William's voice echoed in Taylor's mind.

"YEAH, SHE'S MAD, BUT SHE'S ALSO VERY DANGEROUS. YOU SAW WHAT SHE DID TO THOMAS. WE WOULDN'T STAND A CHANCE AGAINST HER."

"THAT'S NOT GOING TO STOP ME PUTTING UP A FIGHT." The expression on William's face didn't change, but his eyes became hard.

Circe's smile had disappeared and she looked irritated. "Cease your mental babbling, the pair of you. You would go up against me? It would be like a mouse against a lion. No! Enough! What you won't give freely, I will take have to take."

Taylor felt pressure suddenly building in his head. It was like someone was trying to force their way in. Using all his concentration he fought to push the pressure away, but it was no good, the presence was now fully inside his mind. Already he could feel tendrils growing outwards from the main presence, poking, probing into all his thoughts, all his experiences, all his feelings. He tried to cry out but even the small control he had had over his own body was now lost. Instead he cried in his mind, fought with everything he had. Nothing was doing any good. Now the pain was beginning, it seemed to come from nowhere, have no focus, yet still encompassed every fibre of his being. Slowly, inexhorably he was losing control of his own mind. In desperation he built up an imaginary wall, surrounding the last part of his conciousness. But even before the wall was complete, cracks began to appear and brick by brick it fell away leaving him open, exposed and defenseless. As his control slid away, so did the barrier he had built to hold back his empathic powers, the barrier he had constructed to protect himself from the feelings and emotions of the people around him. Then, strangely, as a trickle of his empathic power escaped through the barrier, the presence in his mind flinched and drew back slightly. Immediately, Taylor dismantled the rest of the barrier, releasing control of his empathy totally. The effect was incredible; the pressure in his head eased immediately as the presence fought to escape the barrage of emotions resulting from it's own existance.

"WILLIAM," Taylor gave a desperate mental cry. "IF YOU CAN HEAR ME, FOCUS YOUR ENERGY THROUGH ME; EVERYTHING YOU HAVE TO GIVE." Taylor now brought his empathy under control, focussing it directly at the powerful being standing yards from him. The flood of emotions was awful, it nearly swept him off his feet, never in his life had he felt so much hate emanating from one person. William must have heard his plea, since now the young singer felt new energy flooding into him. It allowed him to take that hate, amplify it even further, to unimaginable proportions and feed it back in the direction from which it came.

Circe threw back her head and howled in anguish, her beautiful face twisted with rage and pain. Her hands went to the sides of her head and she looked to be on the verge of collapse. Suddenly she screamed one word "No!" Her hands flew down to her sides in one swift motion and her eyes shot sparks. Taylor felt himself hit by a force like a demolition ball. All the air whooshed out of his lungs as he was picked up and thrown backwards like a rag doll.

It was several moments before Taylor could find the strength to move. Finally he managed to raise his head enough to look around. He lay on the grass perhaps forty yards away from where he had been standing. Several yards away, William lay on his back clutching his left shoulder with his right hand and moaning softly. Circe had not moved from her original position, she stood with her head bowed and her chest heaving as if trying to catch her breath. Taylor rolled over onto his stomach and began to crawl towards William.

"Tay! What's happening?" Zac's shout cut through the silence.

Taylor glanced around to see Zac running across the grass towards him, staggering slightly since he was still wearing his blades which were sinking into the soft turf. A suprised and worried looking Nathan had just appeared from the door of the toilets.

At the sound of Zac's voice, Circe's head whipped up, a look of hate in her eyes. Her mouth formed into a snarl and she raised her hands.

"Zac! Get away from here!" Taylor screamed. Puzzled, Zac stopped in his tracks and for the first time, looked beyond Taylor and saw Circe. A look of terrified recognition appeared on his face. Taylor heard a muttered "Oh, shit!" and Zac turned and started running back towards Nathan. Suddenly one of his blades stuck in the grass and he fell forwards. The fall saved his life. A ball of fire the size of a small car seared through the air inches above his prone body.

"Nathaaaaaaan!" Zac gave a howl of anguish as the fireball continued on it's path straight towards the opened mouthed eleven year old. There was flash and a roar like an exploding bomb, and the air was filled with flying debris. Where the toilet block had stood, there was now only a pile of smoking rubble. Of the small boy who had been standing in the doorway, there was no sign.

Taylor's mind was numb. He couldn't take in what had just happened. Without concious thought he crawled across the grass until he was next to Zac. He put his hand on his brother's arm, but received no response. Zac lay there, unmoving. His eyes were open but unfocussed, staring at nothing.

"TAYLOR?" William's voice sounded in Taylor's head. "ARE YOU OK? HOW'S ZAC."

"I'M FINE, OR AT LEAST I THINK I AM, I DON'T KNOW. SOMETHING'S WRONG WITH ZAC THOUGH. HE DOESN'T SEEM HURT AT ALL, THERE'S NOTHING WRONG THAT I CAN HEAL, BUT IT'S AS IF HE'S NOT THERE. ARE YOU HURT?"

"YEAH. I'M PRETTY SURE MY ARM'S BROKEN."

"DON'T MOVE, I'LL COME AND HEAL IT."

"NO!" William's mental voice was harsh. It took Taylor by suprise. William had never used that tone with him before. "NO." William repeated, this time more gently. "WORK ON ZAC, HE CAN TELEPORT. YOU HAVE TO BRING HIM AROUND SO THAT HE CAN GET YOU OUT OF HERE."

Across the short distance, Taylor locked his eyes with William's. "YOU MEAN GET US OUT OF HERE."

"PLEASE TAYLOR, DO THIS FOR ME. WAKE ZAC AND GET AWAY. I HAVE TO KNOW THAT YOU'RE SAFE." William forced himself to his feet, his left arm hanging at a strange angle, his face grey with pain. There were tears of fear and pain in his eyes but also a fierce determination as he looked briefly at Taylor before tearing his gaze away. He forced himself to stand straight before turning to face Circe. He called across to her, his voice calm. "If you want Taylor you're going to have to go through me first."

"WILLIAM, NO. THERE HAS TO BE SOME OTHER WAY." But even as he mentally voiced the words Taylor knew that they hadn't been heard. For the first time ever, William had shut him out. All he could do was watch helplessly as the boy he loved sacrificed his own life so that he, Taylor stood a chance of escape.

William fought to prevent his knees from buckling. Even the slightest movement sent daggers of pain shooting through his broken left arm. His head was spinning and he thought he was going to be sick, but he pushed on with one thought in his mind, he had to delay Circe long enough for Taylor to rouse Zac and have him teleport them away to safety. Burned into his eyes was an image of Nathan being hit by a ball of flame; the boy never stood a chance. Fighting back a sob, William pushed the picture away; he hadn't time for sentiment, no time for emotion of any kind. If he fell to pieces now, Taylor would lose his only chance of escape. His shoe hit a rut in the ground and he stumbled; the sudden movement brought agony to his arm and his vision blurred. "Oh, god, he preyed, please don't let me pass out now." Determindly he held onto conciousness. Taking step after slow painful step he moved towards Circe, but also sideways. He didn't want Taylor behind him, in the line of fire, not after what happened to Nathan.

In front of him Circe stood almost motionless, watching, a half smile twitching the corners of her mouth. "You're either very naive or very stupid, boy." It wasn't possible to tell whether her voice contained annoyance of amusement. "I was careless before. Your friend's novel form of defence took me by surprise. I shan't fall for the same trick twice. Besides, that particular trick is not part of your arsenal. Your mind is completely open to me, open and ready for me to enter."

For an instant, William felt her inside his head, a towering presence. A tremour of fear passed through him as he realized he no longer had control of his own limbs. But as quickly as she had entered, she was gone. His mind was once again his own.

Circe laughed, lightly. "That would be too easy. Besides, it amuses me to wait and see how you will employ your puny abilities to try and vanquish me. Or perhaps you think I will be so overcome with fear just at the sight of you that I shall run away like a trembling girl. Come, my young prince, show me the full measure of your power."

Trying to ignore the taunts, William planted his feet apart and prepared to fight. A moment of panic hit him when he realized that he had no easily available energy souce. His main power was energy manipulation. To use it to any real effect he needed to find some energy to draw on; standing in the middle of a park on a cool day was not an ideal situation. He would just have to do the best he could with what he could draw from his surroundings. Besides, he doubted he would be a match for Circe even if he had been standing next to a nuclear reactor. Concentrating, he pulled in as much heat as he could from his surroundings. The results were feeble, even by his own standards and when he used this to lash out at Circe, the sentinel actually laughed!

"Is that the best you can do, boy? I expected better than that even from you."

This time the taunts hit home and William could feel anger begining to build inside him. Not just anger at what she was saying, but also at what she had done; was doing, to his life, to the lives of Taylor and Zac, and especially what she had done to Nathan. The anger drove out all fear and he attempted something he had never tried before; to draw energy directly from another living person. He focussed on Circe and felt power flooding into him.

The effects were immediate. Circe's eyes widened and she gave a gasp of pain. Encouraged, William redoubled his efforts, sucking the Sentinel's life energy from her body. His confidence increased. He could actually beat her, he knew he could.

Circe gave a wordless cry and all the energy flows ceased. William's attack had failed. She stood panting slightly, anger showing openly on her face, yet when she spoke her voice was clam. "You children continue to surprise me. Perhaps I have underestimated you a little. But now I grow bored and it is time to end our games. I have decided I will let your healer friend live after all. Now that I am aware of his ability to reflect my emotions back to me I can ensure that he doesn't get the chance to use it again. He's a very strong healer and will live a long time before I drain the life out of him. It's just a pity that he isn't a better physical specimen like your friend Mark or even yourself; I prefer a just a little more muscle on my toys. Still, he won't be wasted, I am sure some of my servants will enjoy playing with him." She drew herself up and the air around her became charged.

Desperately, William tried to think of something he could do to delay things further. Taylor was still nearby, still in danger. Why hadn't he been able to heal Zac? They should have been gone by now. He watched hopelessly as Circe raised her arms above her head, a ball of pure energy forming between her hands. He had powers that ordinary people couldn't even dream of, yet now he stood here practically helpless, able to do nothing but watch. Circe's eyes blazed and her arms came down as the ball of energy flew straight towards him, expanding massively. An image of Taylor's face came unbidden into William's mind and the prince felt a love so strong he thought his heart would burst. Then as suddenly as it came, the image vanished and he was engulfed by fire.

Taylor cradled Zac in his arms, but his eyes were on William as the prince moved slowly towards Circe. He wanted to shout out and make William stop, but his throat felt so dry that he couldn't even speak. As he listened to Circe's taunts he felt anger bubbling in his stomach, but there was nothing he could do. He couldn't help William, he couldn't help Zac, all he could do was sit there and let things happen. His mind numb, he watched, unable to breath, as the Sentinel gathered her energies. As the ball of flame hurtled towards William, Taylor heard himself cry out, but whether his cry was real or just in his mind he had no idea. The fireball exploded around William with a thunderous crash and a flash so bright that Taylor was momentarily blinded. He hung his head and stared at the grass in front of him until his vision cleared. He didn't want to look, but he knew he had to. Slowly he raised his eyes.

Circe had not moved, but she was wearing a strange expression, a mixture of suprise and puzzlement. This expression was perfectly mirrored in the object of her attention. William looked as though he had walked through hell. His hair was singed almost to the roots in places, his clothes hung in smouldering tatters and the visible parts of his face, chest, arms and legs were red with burns. But he was still alive. Briefly, his eyes met Taylors and his mouth moved, though no sound came out, then his knees buckled and he collapsed into a smoking heap.

Without thinking, Taylor had lowered Zac gently to the ground, then he was on his feet and charging towards his friend. He was dimly aware that Circe was shouting, she had her fist raised and she seemed to be addressing the empty air in front of her, screaming something about Karl having interfered for the last time and about broken oaths.

As Taylor approached the fallen teenager he gave a sigh of relief, William was still breathing. Quickly, Taylor placed his hand on the exposed, blistered skin of the boy's chest, it would take every bit of power he had, but William was within his ability to heal. Without another thought he released his energies into William's battered and burnt body.

Spasms passed through William's body as the healing process began. Almost immediately the redness began to disappear to be replaced by normal healthy looking skin. He gave a grunt of pain as his shattered arm straightend, the ends of bone coming together and joining perfectly. With a weak cough, William opened his eyes. "I guess I'm not dead."

"I guess not," Taylor smiled. "That was a stupid thing you did. Brave, but stupid."

"Why didn't you go?"

"I couldn't," Taylor replied. "I don't understand what's wrong with Zac, it's nothing that I can heal. Besides, I wouldn't have left you anyway." He took William's hand in his own and gave it a squeeze. "She seems to have forgotten about us," he said, nodding towards to Circe. "Let's get back over to Zac, maybe will can still get away." He helped William to his feet and the two of them made their way across to Taylor's unconcious brother.

Circe was still shouting. "Show yourself, Karl, you meddling old fool. I know it was you. The boy wasn't capable of withstanding that blast on his own, so I know you shielded him somehow. You've interferred for the last time."

"It wasn't Karl. It was me."

It had been a young voice. Taylor looked towards its source and his jaw dropped open. "Tristan?"

Standing perhaps 50 yards away, facing Circe, was the boy whose life Taylor and William had saved, the boy who had mysteriously disappeared without trace from the Corps base. Tristan.

"Tristan, get away from here." Taylor called a warning. But the boy appeared not to hear, his gaze fixed, singlemindedly, on the woman Sentinel. Taylor was about to go to him when he felt a hand on his arm.

"Leave the boy alone. Don't interfere, he know's what he's doing."

Taylor spun around and found himself staring into Karl's wrinkled face. "It's you! I should have known you had something to do with his disappearence. It should be you out there facing Circe, not him. Why don't you do something."

Karl looked pained. "I don't because I can't. When I became a Sentinel I took certain vows, vows that I have lived by for more years than I care to remember. One of those vows was to never use my powers against a fellow Sentinel. Besides, it wouldn't do any good. Circe is stronger than me."

"So you send a boy to face her." Taylor was unable to keep the derision from his voice.

"Yes. But you seem to forget he is no longer an ordinary boy. You must take some responsibility for that. Because of your actions he possesses incredible power. Let us just hope for all our sakes that that power is strong enough for him to prevail."

Circe was staring at her new adversary, her eyes weighing and measuring him. "You have power, boy. Power that belies your apparent age and slight form. I'm curious to know more about you, who you are, where you have come from. Yet you interfered with my execution of the youth and that is something I cannot allow to go unpunished. Therefore my curiousity must be set aside. Prepare to pay the price for interefering with Circe. Prepare to die." A bolt of pure energy flew from her extended hand. There had been no warning, no build up, she struck out like a coiled snake.

Tristan's eyes opened a little wider in surprise. Yet he showed no signs of fear, he simply extended his arm, palm outwards and as the energy bolt approached him it stopped dead then exploded outwards like water hitting a wall.

Taylor crouched down, leaning over Zac and pulling William close to him as residual sparks of energy flew in their direction. But the sparks never reached them, halting and dying several feet away. No doubt Karl's doing. The old man was proving to be of some use afterall.

The battle was now hotting up as Tristan retaliated to Circe's inital attack. Bolt's of lightening were crashing down out of a clear sky, only to be deflected by an invisible shield around the Sentinel. Circe directed her next attack at the ground in front of Tristan's feet causing the boy to momentarily loose his balance. He reciprocated and suddenly Circe was fighting to stay on her own feet. Balls of fire and lightening bombarded the two combatants but it seemed nothing could get through the invisible barriers both had erected. Tristan was looking frightened, but refused to let his concentration waver as he battled on. Circe, on the other hand, was quite obviously losing an internal battle with her temper. Her lips were pressed together, her eyes flashed darkly and her whole body trembled with fury. With a scream of rage she thrust both arms out straight before her and a steady stream of white hot fire erupted from the tips of her fingers. The attack almost penetrated Tristan's defenses, causing the boy to stagger and fall to one knee. Yet bravely he forced himself back to his feet and released a molten stream of his own.

The fiery streams came together with a sound like a roaring express train midway between the woman and the boy. Taylor turned his face away to protect his eyes from the raging, white hot inferno. It seemed that both Tristan and Circe had entirely abandoned their defenses and were each devoting all of their enormous energies in a desperate attempt to overcome the other.

Out of the corner of his eye, Taylor was aware that Tristan had taken a step forwards. Not allowing the flood of energy to ease up, even for instant, Tristan took another step towards his opponent, then another, slowly narrowing the gap between them. Tristan's face was white with fear and concentration and Circe's once beautiful features were contorted by uncontrolled fury; they were locked together in a battle from which only one of them would walk away. Tristan continued is forward movement taking step after slow, trembling step. They were now so close that the blinding incandesence resulting from the clash of energies threatened to envelope them. Another step and they were both partially standing within the energy ball. Now they were close enough for their fingers to touch.. Tristan extended his arm to it's full extent, the tips of his fingers almost brushing Circe's body. The Sentinel leaned backwards but it was as if her feet were rooted to the spot. Straining even further, Tristan leaned forwards, a fraction of an inch from touching his opponent. Closer. Closer. Contact.

The blazing brilliance of before was as nothing compared to what happened next. Even within Karl's protective sphere the ground shook and the air crackled. Taylor huddled down, his arms around William and Zac and his eyes screwed shut. Every hair on his body was standing on end and he his muscles spasmed involuntarily as electrical energy struck him from every direction at once. But worse by far was the screaming. He put his hands over his ears to try to cut out the sound but it did no good. The screams were in his head, slicing through his mind like a knife threatening to tear away his very soul. A woman's screams, echoing on an on through an empty void, slowly, ever so slowly diminishing in intensity.

Then it was over.

There was blessed silence. Taylor's limbs felt stiff and his legs trembled as he tried to stand. His eyes met William's "Are you ok?"

"I think so. But I feel as though I've just been hit by a bus. What about you?"

"I think I'm alright. Ask me again in a few minutes when I get my legs moving." Taylor forced a smile which quickly disappeared as he turned his attention to Zac. The boy was still as before, unmoving, his eyes open yet staring at nothing.

A few feet away, Karl was climbing to his feet, his face grey and his expression grim. Taylor put a hand on the old mans arm to steady him. "Is it finally over?"

"Yes," Karl nodded. "It's over. For better or for worse, Circe is dead. You've just been witness to something never seen before; the death of a Sentinel."

Taylor was about to ask the man what he meant by "for better of for worse" when he heard William call him.

"Taylor, I think you had better come over here."

William was kneeling over a mound of arms, legs and charred clothing that almost blended in perfectly with the charred earth around it. Taylor hurried over, afraid of what he was going to find. To his amazement, the mound gave a groan and the arms and legs twitched. Tristan was still alive.

Taylor knelt next to William and they were quickly joined by Karl. Gently, Taylor touched the side of Tristan's face and gave a relieved sigh as the boy opened his eyes. The relief was followed by amazement as Taylor discovered that Tristan didn't need any healing; there was nothing wrong with him that a long soak in a hot bath couldn't put right.

"I killed her, didn't I?"

With a nod, Taylor answered Tristan's question. "She's dead. She can't hurt you or the rest of us anymore."

Tristan's reaction came as a suprise. He began to cry, the tears making streaks across his dirt smeared face. "I killed her," he repeated. "I never wanted to hurt anybody."

"You didn't have any choice. If you hadn't killed her she would have killed you and then the rest of us." Taylor brushed the tears away with his finger. "You saved all of our lives."

After a few moments Karl gently touched Taylor's arm. Leaving William to comfort the boy, Taylor followed the Sentinel a short distance away.

Karl spoke softly. "He appears to have survived remarkably unscathed, apart from one thing."

"What's that?" Taylor asked.

Karl shook his head sadly. "His powers are gone. They were somehow burned out in that final confrontation. He's now just an ordinary boy again."

"That's probably the best thing that could have happened," said Taylor, thoughtfully. "Now at least he can have some sort of normal life."

"You are right of course. Though in the small time I had with him I came to appreciate just how powerful he really was. I only had time to teach him some very basic things. Properly trained, there was much good he could have done. It was not to be. Though now I think we had better turn our attention to the other boy."

"You mean Zac? Can you help us? I thought you couldn't do healing?"

"No, healing is outside of my abilities, but you have seen for yourself that healing would not do any good anyway. From what I have observed I think it is a different problem but I need to examine the boy properly to be sure."

Together they approached Zac, kneeling down beside his still form. Karl placed his hand on Zac's forehead and was silent for a long minute.

"As I thought," he said eventually. "His body his unharmed but his mind is elsewhere."

"But can you help?"

Karl looked grave. "I can try. But you should prepare yourself, there are several possible outcomes. You are aware that he has the ability to teleport. I suspect that he is not fully trained in that ability or he would never have attempted the foolhardy thing that he did. What he tried to do was to teleport another person with whom he had no physical contact."

"You mean Nathan?"

"If that was boy in the path of the fireball, yes. Unfortunately to do something like that requires massive amounts of energy, this energy increases enormously the further the person is away. Normally a distance of just a few feet would be beyond the ability of even the strongest of teleporters. In this case the target was many yards away. This boy managed to start the process but didn't have the strength to complete it."

"So will you help him?" Taylor's voice held desperation.

"I'll try. That is all I can do, but as I have said, you need to prepare yourself. I have to try and supply the strength needed to complete the process, this may be beyond even the power of a Sentinel. Even if I am successful I may not be able to recover both of the boys, just one or the other. If I manage to bring both back, do not forget that one of them was in the direct path of a fireball..." Karl's voice trailed off.

"You're saying that Zac may not have teleported Nathan away in time?"

"It's a possibility. Be ready for whatever happens."

Taylor watched as Karl once again put his hand on Zac's forehead. The old Sentinel closed his eyes and became still, even his breathing appeared to have stopped.

Long moments passed. Taylor was becoming more tense by the second, his mind rushing through the possible outcomes, trying not to think about what could happen yet at the same time being ready to leap into action with his healing if he were needed. What if Karl couldn't bring Zac back? Life without his younger brother was unthinkable. He promised himself that if everything turned out well he would never say anything nasty to Zac again. Losing Nathan would be almost as bad; in the short time they had known each other, Taylor had come to love the younger boy dearly. Zac's cheeky grin, Nathan's shy smile, the pictures alternated in his head, over and over, faster and faster, until they became a blur. Why was it taking so long? Something must have gone wrong. He looked across at William, but the prince was giving all his attention to Tristan, speaking softly to him. Taylor couldn't make out the words but he could see Tristan's tear stained face nodding in agreement and the beginnings of a sad smile.

Taylor took hold of Zac's hand. It was warm; that at least was comforting. "C'mon little brother, pull through. I want you back. It'd be lonely as hell without you." Taylor raised the hand to his lips and and held it there as he lightly kissed his brother's fingers. "If you go and die on me I'll never forgive you for it."

Zac's body gave a jerk. His back arched upwards and he let out a painful groan then relaxed and lay back, breathing heavily.

A second later the air beside them shimmered and Nathan appeared, standing upright, a look of horror on his face. The boy let out a piercing scream and threw himself to the ground his arms and legs thrashing. Taylor thew himself on top of the youngster to try and prevent him hurting himself. Nathan kept repeating the word "fire" over and over. Eventually he became calmer as he took in his surroundings. "The fire? It was coming at me."

"It's gone," said Taylor. "You're safe."

Taylor got to his feet, pulling a still trembling Nathan up with him only to see him nearly go straight back down again as he was hit by a human tornado. Zac was trying to both laugh and cry at the same time as he flung his arms around Nathan and hugged him tight enough to stop the younger boy breathing. Taylor left them too it and turned to Karl who was looking tired but satisfied.

"Thanks."

Karl smiled mischievously. "Dayle will probably tell you that a if a Sentinel ever gives you anything you should beware, he'll expect to be paid double in return. So beware my young friend, one day I may decide to collect."

"Whatever you ask, it will have been worth it," Taylor replied, watching Zac and Nathan together.

"We'll see. Now it is time to leave. I will bid you goodbye, Taylor. Until we meet again."

Before Taylor had chance to reply, Karl was gone. He smiled happily to himself, everything was finally turning out well. Now that Circe was out of the way nothing else could possibly go wrong.

A voice sounded in Taylor's head. "TAYLOR, CAN YOU HEAR ME? ARE YOU OK?"

"ADAM, YES, I CAN HEAR AND WE'RE ALL FINE."

"THANK THE STARS FOR THAT." There was a mental sigh of relief. "HANG ON, I'M ON MY WAY."

A second later Adam appeared in the flesh. He looked like he'd been through a threshing machine; his clothes were torn in places and there was a large patch of dried blood down one side of his face.

"Adam, what happened?" Taylor reached out to use his healing, but the young asian stopped him.

"Nothing to worry about, Mark has already taken care of it. I just need to get cleaned up. Besides, there's no time to waste. Circe's still alive and she's looking for you."

"Not anymore she's not." Quickly Taylor filled Adam in on what had occurred.

The sixteen year old listened in amazement then gave a long, low whistle. "And I thought we had it bad. The Corps council meeting almost became a blood bath. It turned out that the leader of the council, John Ellis was on Circe's payroll. He practically cooked the lot of us. There was enough energy flying around in that room to power a small city, another minute or so and we'd all have been done for. Then suddenly he stopped. His powers were gone, except those he was born with of course, and that was something we were able to deal with. He must have lost his powers just as you finished Circe off."

"Then I think we all have a lot to thank Tristan for."

"Sure looks that way. Let's get everyone back to the base and see if we can sort out exactly what happened today. Are you and the others all up to walking, I think Paul pretty much has his hands full at the moment.

"Yeah," Taylor grinnned, "I think we can all just about walk. But don't expect us to be able to run for a while."

Taylor wanted to be happy, but somehow he couldn't quite manage it. Circe was out of the way once and for all and everything finally seemed to be going well for all of his friends. Zac appeared to be happier than Taylor could ever remember, spending every free moment with Nathan; the two of the seemed joined at the hip, or perhaps joined at another body part would be more appropriate considering what they spent most of their time doing. In spite of his melancholy mood Taylor was unable to suppress a grin at the thought. Later that morning Mark was due to attend a meeting of the Corps council; they were going to officially lift his suspension. Dayle and Adam were going with him to offer him moral support. Yes, after all the recent turmoil everything was finally settling down. There were just two rather ugly flies left in the ointment.

One of the flies was William. Well, no, William could hardly be compared to a buzzing, disease spreading insect. No, the problem was that William would be leaving soon. Probably within a few days William would be returning to his real life, a life in which there was no room for Taylor Hanson. Just the thought of saying goodbye made Taylor feel physically sick. Sure, they could still keep in touch and maybe even get together occasionally, but what sort of relationship was that? They'd known all along that the time would come when they would have to go their separate ways, but by mutual agreement it was something they seldom talked about. Now though it was something they were going to have to face.

The other problem was Tristan. Tristan was hurting. Hurting badly. And there was little Taylor could do to help. It was now two days since the boy had suddenly reappeared, just in time to defeat the Sentinel Circe and save all of their lives. Those two days had been an emotional rollercoaster. One minute Tristan appeared reasonably happy, even sometimes joking, especially if Zac were around. The next minute he'd be in floods of tears. The worst episode so far had been the previous evening when Taylor had walked into the room to find Tristan sitting by himself and looking miserable. Without thinking, Taylor had but his arm around around the boy's shoulders to try and comfort him. Big mistake. Tristan had leaped to his feet pushing Taylor away, his face contorted by anger. "Get your filthy gay hands off me," he had screamed. "I'm no homo. I don't want you touching me. Understand? Just keep away from me. All of this is your fault. If you hadn't interferred, you and that precious prince of yours, I wouldn't be here and now and we'd all be better off. Why couldn't you just let me die? I don't want any of this. I wish I was dead." The tirade had ended with him rushing out of the door leaving Taylor opened mouthed with shock.

Later that night Taylor had told William what had happened. William had shaken his head sadly. "Poor kid is going through hell at the moment," he had said. "Try not to take anything he says too seriously. He's not thinking straight. His whole life has been turned upside down and he just wants to hit out at somebody. All we can do at the moment is be here for him."

Even though Taylor agreed with everything William said, Tristan's words had still hurt. What if the boy was right? His parents were both dead and he'd been minutes away from death himself. Should they have let him go? Should they have let him join the people he loved? He'd lain awake long into the night pondering these questions.

Now it was morning and he still hadn't reached any satisfactory answers. He'd risen early, leaving William still asleep in bed. He sat at the table, his hands clasped around a mug, not even noticing that the coffee it contained was now almost cold.

There was the soft sound of a door handle turning and Taylor glanced up to see the door slowly opening. Tristan appeared around the door, his face pale and his eyes surrounded by dark shadows as if he'd gone days without sleep. He hesitated when he saw Taylor, but taking control of himself he closed the door and made his way to the other side of the table, eyes fixed on his feet.

Only when he was seated did he look up. "Hi," he said, his voice soft and uncertain. He gave a momentary, weak smile then his eyes once again dropped down, staring at his hands which were together on the tabletop in front of him.

"Hi." Taylor's reply was almost as uncertain. His mind turned cartwheels as he tried to think of what to say. Tristan came to his rescue.

"Taylor, what I said last night..." he stopped.

"Yeah?"

Tristan's hands were clenched so tightly that the knuckles were white. "I shouldn't have said those things." He paused as if waiting for a reply, but Taylor was still unsure what he should say. Tristan looked up, his eyes filled with tears. "I didn't mean it. I didn't mean any of it. It's just that I feel so confused." Again he looked down at his hands. "It was alright while I was with Karl. While he was teaching me to use my powers I didn't have time to think of anything else, everything was just a blur. Then when I was fighting Circe it was like it wasn't really me. It was only when it was over that it hit me. Circe was dead and I'd killed her. Circe was dead, just like mom and dad. I'm never going to see them again. I miss them Taylor." His voice trembled from the emotions he was trying to hold inside. "I miss them so much." The emotional dam burst and his head fell forwards onto his arms, his whole body shaking.

Taylor was around the table in an instant, his arms going around the boy and hugging him tightly. "It'll be all right," he said, gently. "Everything will be all right."

This time Tristan made no effort to push Taylor away. He buried his face in Taylor's chest and let the tears come.

It was lunchtime before Mark, Dayle and Adam returned from the Corps council meeting. Mark and Dayle immediately disappeared into Mark's room, and so it was left to Adam to pass on the news about what had happened. The asian telepath sighed as he relaxed into a chair. "Well, that was quite some meeting," he announced to the assembled Corps members

"Come on then. Don't keep us in suspense. Did Mark get reinstated?" Paul was the edge of his seat. He'd wanted to be in on the meeting himself, but his role had been limited to teleporting the others there and fetching them back.

"Yes, and no," Adam replied, enigmatically.

"You mean they still blame him for what happened to McCray?" Paul asked, pulling a face.

"If you'll shut up a minute and give me chance to speak, you'll find out exactly what happened," said Adam, shaking his head in exasperation.

"Yeah, Paul. Put a sock in it will ya," Zac chimed in. "Give your mouth a rest for a change."

Paul shot Zac a hard stare. "I'll make you sorry for that later, Hanson," he muttered.

"Yeah? If you think you're big enough and hard enough," Zac replied with a grin.

"When you kiddies have quite finished..." Adam allowed impatience to creep into his voice as he cast his eyes around the room, daring anyone else to interrupt. No one did, though Zac was only quiet because Taylor's hand was firmly clamped across his mouth.

Finally satisfied that he would be allowed to speak, Adam began. Mark had been reinstated to his previous postion on the council. However, the council had wanted to go further. Since John had turned out be an agent of Circe, the post of council leader was vacant and it seemed that Mark was the favorite candidate for the job.

"Hey, that's terrific. Mark is council leader." Paul's happy expression was mirrored on several faces around the room.

"Well, he would have been," said Adam. "If he hadn't turned them down."

"What...? Why?"

"He said he didn't want the responsibility. All he wanted was to get back to his old postion as base leader."

"I suppose I understand." Paul was unable to hide his disappointment. "At least with Mark as base leader again things can get back to normal around here."

"Paul, if you could stop interrupting for a minute maybe you'll finally get to know what actually happened," said Adam. "They refused to reinstate Mark as base leader." Quickly he held up his hand to forestall the barrage of comments and sounds of dismay. "The reason they wouldn't give him back his position as base leader was because they had something else in mind for him. They want him to set up and lead a special task force so that if anything like recent events were to occur again, the Corps will be ready to deal with it."

Paul gave a disbelieving snort. "Ready for Circe? Yeah, right! There's no way in the world we'd ever be ready for something like that, we just haven't got the firepower." Then he suddenly grinned. "This task force idea sounds fun though. How do we get to be part of it?"

"You wait to be asked. Mark will have full control over who he wants to take part. But generally, the stronger your powers the more likely you are to be asked to be involved. So you will just have to curb your impatience for a while and hope that Mark doesn't overlook you." Adam looked around at all the watching faces, but deliberately avoided making eye contact with Paul. A small smile twitched at the corners of the telepath's mouth and it was an effort to keep it from turning into a full grin. Paul was by far the strongest teleporter in the Corps and it was almost certain that he wouldn't be "overlooked", but it didn't hurt to keep the fourteen year old in suspense for a while. "Now, to take Paul's mind off whether or not he's going to be part of the new task force, it's time you found out the main reason you've all been gathered together this afternoon." His eyes closed momentarily as he sent a telepathic message. "THAT'S YOUR CUE GUYS."

Almost straight away, Mark and Dayle entered. They had obviously been waiting just outside the door for Adam's signal. Both were smiling as they made their way to the centre of the room where they stood facing each other.

Mark cast his gaze around them all. "You are all very special friends and both Dayle and myself wanted you to be with us as witnesses for what we are about to do." He then turned his full attention on Dayle. The two of them stared directly into each others eyes and it was as if everyone and everthing else in the room had ceased to exist. All the young Corps members sat in silent expectation, waiting for something, though not knowing exactly what.

Just as it seemed that the silence could stretch out no further, Mark slowly raised his right hand and rested the tips of his fingers gently on Dayle's chest. Then he spoke. His voice, soft yet firm, carried easily around the room.

"Dayle, there's always been something special between us, it seemed that we became firm friends the very first moment we met. It wasn't long before you found your way into my bed and we became much more than friends. It was only then that I realised there had previously been something missing in my life; with you around I felt complete, I felt that I had everything I could ever want. Then you were taken away from me and it felt like my heart had been wrenched out. For a long time I felt there was little point in going on, I couldn't imagine a future without you. Over time it became easier, the pain became a dull ache, but the void inside me was still there. Everyday that went by I thought about you. Sometimes I'd wake up in the morning expecting to find you in bed beside me. I could see your face in my mind, your eyes, your smile, I could feel the softness of your skin beneath my fingers. Even when you weren't there I never loved you any less. I can't begin to explain how it feels to have you back with me. I'm finally whole again. Dayle, my heart has been yours for a long time. But here, in the presence of our friends I make you this promise. My heart, my body, everything that I am, I pledge to you. My future, and whatever it may hold, I place into your hands. I will always love you and care for you and strive to give you the happiness that you give to me, this I solemnly swear."

Mark let his hand fall to his side, but his eyes never left Dayle's. The sixteen year old took a long, unsteady breath before raising his own right hand and placing his finger tips against Mark's chest.

There a slight tremour in Dayle's voice as he began to speak. "Mark, I came to the Corps as a frightened fourteen year old. From the moment I arrived you were there for me with your kind words and friendly smile. I admired the way you always took care of not just me, but everyone around you. I was madly in love with you before ever I first went to your bed. You managed to keep us to being just friends for a while, but I was determined that we were going to be more than that. I've never told you this before, but when you did finally let me into your bed it was the first time I'd ever had sex without either being forced or being paid for it; it was the first time I'd done it because I wanted to. Sometimes, before, sex had been good, sometimes it had been something I just wanted to forget. But suddenly, with you, it became something magical. And all because I loved you and I knew that you loved me. My life had become like a dream, every moment was special. Then the dream ended, and I woke up. We were pulled apart in the most horrible way imaginable as I became part of McCray's evil experiment. The next three months were worse than any nightmare, yet through it all, probably the worst moment was when McCray told me that I could forget any hope of rescue, that everyone believed I was dead. I can still see his face now. He was laughing as he told me. I hated him for that. For that more than anything else he did to me." There was pure bitterness in Dayle's voice, his mouth was twisted in a grimace and tears rolled slowly down his cheeks.

Watching, Adam brushed his own tears away. Of everyone in the room, he had the best idea of what Dayle must have gone through, having received a relatively very brief experience of the same treatment himself. He tore his eyes away from Dayle for a moment and briefly glanced around the room. Every other eye was locked on the scene before them. Several of the Corps members looked close to tears themselves. Feeling the need for some sort of physical contact, Adam reached out to Paul, who was sitting next to him, and put his arm around the boy's shoulders. Paul didn't look around, but allowed himself to be pulled closer until he was resting his head on Adam's shoulder. Very gently, Adam kissed the top of Paul's head. This time Paul did look up, giving Adam a sad smile.

In the centre of the room Dayle had himself a little more under control and began to speak again. "I'm ashamed to say that when rescue came, I thought only of myself. All I wanted was an end to the pain. However, over the months that followed two thoughts kept recurring in my head. One was revenge against McCray, but the other, the one that I thought about day and night, was you, Mark. I tried to imagine what you must be going through, thinking I was dead. I tried to convince myself that I was doing the right thing in keeping away from you. I knew that if I went back to you and broke the promises that I'd made to the Sentinels, you would have to watch me die all over again. But in the end I had no choice. I came back anyway, with the idea that even a few moments with you would be better than the empty lie I was living. Amazingly, I was given another chance. I was healed. And even more amazingly, you found it in your heart to forgive me for what I'd put you through. You're an incredibly special person, Mark. Which is why I want to say these words. My heart, my body, everything that I am, I pledge to you. My future, and whatever it may hold, I place into your hands. I will always love you and care for you and strive to give you the happiness that you give to me, this I solemnly swear." He let his hand fall away from Mark's chest.

The was a moments total silence before mark encircled the younger boy's waist with his arms, pulling the two of the together in a tight hug. Then they kissed.

Silence turned to uproar as everyone cheered. Adam found himself on his feet and hugging Paul. Everyone else was hugging and in some cases kissing each other and congratulating Mark and Dayle.

Paul pulled gently on Adam's arm. "Come with me, there's something I've got to do."

Adam followed the young teleporter as he pushed through the other boys until he stood facing Dayle.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry," Paul began. "I haven't been very nice to you since you came back. It's just that I saw what it did to Mark when you went away and I blamed you for that when I shouldn't have done. I see now how much you really love him. I hope we can be friends."

Dayle put his hand on Paul's shoulder. "Mark told me how you were there for him and how you picked up the pieces when he thought I was dead. It was a horrible time for him and he probably wouldn't have got through it without you. You've been a true friend to him, Paul. I can't blame you for worrying about him, but I'm glad you realise that the last thing in the world I would want to do would be to hurt him again. Having you as friend would mean a lot to me."

For amoment, Paul looked uncertain what to do, until Dayle took hold of him and gave him a firm hug. Then he grinned and hugged Dayle back.

"That was a nice thing you just did," said Adam, a few moments later as he and Paul stood off to one side watching the others talk to Dayle and Mark.

"Yeah, well, sometimes I'm quite a nice person," Paul blushed.

"Oh, I would say you're a nice person all the time. It's just that sometimes you manage to hide it well. Who the hell...?" Adam's eyes widened in surprise. Across the room, just inside the door stood an old man.

Silence quickly fell as all eyes turned towards the newcomer. Some showed recognition, but almost all stared at him with distrust.

"Hello, Karl." Dayle's voice cut through the silence. "Unexpected as usual."

The old man smiled. "You know me, Dayle, I so dislike fuss. But I've been watching for a while. It was a touching little ceremony. I am sincerely happy for you, Dayle. You would have made a fine Sentinel, but I'm glad that you followed your heart; so many of us never had the courage to do that." He looked sad for a moment, the he smiled again. "I wish you well for the future, Dayle. You and all of your friends. However, before I leave you in peace to continue your celebrations I have something to say to one of your number." His sharp eyes passed over them all, one by one, before coming to rest on Tristan. "Hello again, my young friend."

Tristan nodded in acknowledgment and managed a weak smile.

"We only had a very brief time together," Karl went on. "But in that time I was impressed. And for someone of my age and experience that is saying something. You learned quickly and you handled yourself well. For a short time you were in possession of powers probably greater than any other person alive. Now you are back to being just an ordinary boy again. I have come here today to make you an offer. I cannot give you back the powers that you have lost, but I can give you something similar. If you come with me today, pledge your life to the service of the Sentinels, some of that power could be yours again. In time, given sufficient training and experience, you would become a Sentinel yourself, an honour offered to very few."

Tristan looked around from face to face. He seemed very hesitant and uncertain. "Wouldn't that mean I'd have to leave my friends behind."

"Unfortunately that would be the case," said Karl, nodding gravely. "But you have to ask yourself how much you would really fit in here now. If you stayed you would be surrounded by people with special abilites, whilst you yourself have nothing. You could never really belong here under those conditions. I'm offering you the chance of a brand new start."

Tristan looked around, desperate for advice. Eventually his eyes met Mark's and he gave a silent plea for help.

"I can't decide for you, Tristan. This is something that you have to decide for yourself." Mark said, calmy. "One thing I will say, however; I think Karl is wrong when he says you will never fit in here. You will be welcome here as long as you want to stay, and every one of us will do everything we can to make you feel a part of our family. It's true that you may sometimes feel left out in that you no longer have abilities of your own, but I can promise you that none of us will ever think less of you because of that and you will always be treated like, and receive all the priviledges of, a full Corps member. We all owe you a tremendous debt and that isn't something we will forget in a hurry. If, on the other hand, you do decide to accept Karl's offer and go, then we will understand your reasons and you'll go our love and our best wishes." As Mark finished speaking, silence fell and all eyes were on Tristan.

There was a long drawn out silence as Tristan stared at the ground and chewed his bottom lip, obviously agonising about what to decide. Eventually he looked up and his eyes immediately locked on Karl. Ignoring all else, he slowly made his way across to the old Sentinel until he stood immediately in front of him. He paused as if reconsidering, then he shook his head. He spoke with a soft voice as he addressed Karl. "I think a fresh start would really help me now, and you are probably right in that I could never fully fit in here; at the moment I feel like I couldn't fit in anywhere. I don't even understand my own feelings anymore. I don't have a clue what it means to be a Sentinel, but I am sure with that amount of power I could achieve an awful lot of good." He stopped and for a moment he looked directly at Taylor, then at William. Then turning his gaze back to Karl he spoke again. "What you offer me is tempting: a new life, a chance to forget, powers like a superhero out of a comic book. But can you offer me a new family, close friends, people who care?"

Karl smiled sadly and shook his head. "No, Tristan, I can't."

"Then you have your answer." Having reached his decision, Tristan immediately grew in confidence. "Thank you for your offer, but I'm staying here. Maybe it won't always be easy. Maybe I'll never completely fit in. I'm sure there will be times when I will wish I'd gone with you. But even though I've only been here a short time I already feel that I belong. These people are my friends and no amount of power is worth giving them up for."

There were collective sighs of relief around the room. "Way to go, Tris," Zac shouted.

"You're a courageous young man," said Karl. "And I think wise beyond your years. Given the circumstances, the offer had to made, but a part of me is glad you reached the decision you did. True friendship is a gift greater than all the of wealth or all of the power in the world. In spite of what I said earlier, I am confident that you will indeed eventually fit in here completely." He raised his hand and touched Tristan lightly on the forehead. "Goodbye, my young friend and may everything you wish for come true." The boy's eyes opened wide and he staggered slightly, but quickly regained his footing.

Taylor rushed forwards and put his hand on Tristan's arm. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I just felt a little light headed there for a moment."

"Come over here and sit down for a while." Taylor's voice held concern, but the glare he gave Karl was icy.

Most of the boys gathered around a now smiling Tristan leaving Karl to talk to Mark and Dayle.

"What did you do to him?" Dayle asked the Sentinel.

"The boy is fine, I too owe him a great debt and I would do nothing that would harm him in any way."

"I suppose that's all the answer I'm going to get." In spite of himself, Dayle smiled. "I'm going to miss you Karl. You're a devious, manipulative old devil, but I'm still going to miss you being around."

"And I'll miss you," Karl replied. "Perhaps I'm getting more sentimental as I get older but it's been good having you as a friend. Also, I meant what I said about how you would have made a fine Sentinel; you could have taught us compassion, something there is far too little of amongst out fellowship. No matter. What will be will be." He turned to Mark. "Take care of what you have here. I don't just mean Dayle, I mean all of these boys. You have a rare thing here, and when all else fails, the bond between you and your friends may just prove strong enough to prevail. For now though I bid you goodbye." He briefly touched Dayle's arm in a gesture of farewell and in the blink of an eye he was gone.

It was late. Or rather it was early, William wasn't sure. He had lost track of time and he really didn't care anyway. He lay beside Taylor, wallowing in the warm post-orgasmic afterglow of long, slow, satisfying lovemaking. Just for the moment he was content to forget everything; the past, the future. All that existed was the here and now and in that knowledge William was happy.

Taylor, laying beside William, snuggled into the crook of the prince's arm, wriggled a little to adjust his postion slightly and let out a contented sigh. William smiled in response and allowed his hand to drift down and brush against Taylor's chest. This brought a further sigh from Taylor.

"I love to feel your hands touching me," the young singer said, softly. "I could lay here forever like this."

"I don't think so," William replied. "I know you better than that. You'd soon get horny and want a little more than touching."

"Yeah, I guess so," Taylor grinned. "I just hope that by then you've recovered enough to be able to play." Briefly he took hold of William's limp penis and let it flop down onto the boy's stomach. "There doesn't seem to be much life down there at the moment."

"That's because I've just finished having the most incredible sex with a super-hot young stud."

"Really?" Taylor sounded curious. "And do you love him, this 'super-hot young stud', are do you just lust after his innocent young body?"

"Oh, I love him," William replied. "I love him to bits, but I'd hardly describe him as innocent. After some of the tricks he's showed me over the past hour or so I'd say he was about as innocent as a $10 whore."

Taylor giggled. "You might at least give me a decent price. I do have my standards y'know."

"Ok," William conceded, "how does "$12.50 sound."

"That's more like it."

For a the next few minutes they lay together quietly, listening to, or rather feeling, the slow beating of their hearts. Pressed together as they were, they could not tell which heart beat belonged to which body.

Eventually Taylor broke the silence again. "If it wasn't for the fact that you have no choice about going back, would you have accepted Mark's offer of a place in the new task force?"

"Like a shot." William didn't even have to think about the answer. "While I've been with the Corps I've felt like I was where I belonged. But even when he made the offer, Mark never seriously expected me to accept. My life is all laid out for me and there's very little room for the Corps, certainly not for the sort of commitment that the task force would entail. It's not quite the same for you though. You could still accept."

"It would be tricky fitting it in alongside my musical career, though I suppose it could be done."

"Zac's already signed up. He said yes straight away."

Taylor shook his head. "It's different for Zac. Nathan also agreed to take part and in case you hadn't noticed, the two of them are pretty close. They have each other now. But with you gone, there won't be anything left here for me."

"That's not true. Everybody here loves you. You're a pretty hard guy to dislike. You'd be surrounded by friends."

"Yes, and every single one of them will make me think of you; of the time we had together. No, William, I don't want to go through that. When you go home I'll be going home as well."

Thoughts churned around in William's head. There was something he desperately wanted to do but wasn't sure whether it would be right to do it or even whether Taylor would agree. Suddenly he reached a decision. There were many aspects of his life over which he had no control, but this was something he could do for himself. Finding the right words would be tricky, but he was damn well going to give it a go. "Come on, get up." He climbed out of the bed dragging Taylor after him.

"What are you doing? William, it's the middle of the night."

"It has to be now. If I wait until morning I'll probably think of a hundred reasons why we shouldn't do it and then it will be too late."

"Do what? What are you talking about?" Taylor continued to protest as William pulled him upright and away from the bed.

They were standing, a couple of feet apart. The room was dark, but there was enough light for them to see each other's faces. Naked and silent, they faced each other.

Realization of William's intentions hit Taylor and his jaw dropped. "William, we can't do this."

William stood firm. "We can. If that is what we both want. Though we may have to change the words a little. I just need a simple answer Taylor. If there is any doubt at all in your mind then say no. It won't have the slightest effect on how I feel about you. Do we go ahead?"

A stream of emotions crossed Taylor's face and William didn't need telepathy to know that his friend was thinking all the things he himself had been considering. How this was a stupid idea. How they were from different worlds, worlds they both had to return to and how under these circumstances they could not possibly commit themselves to one another.

"Yes."

That one word lit a fire in William's insides and warmth spread though his whole body. If it were possible, at that moment he loved Taylor even more than he ever had before. Calming his emotions he slowly and nervously raised his right hand and rested his fingertips on the bare, smooth flesh of Taylor's chest.

"Taylor." His voice croaked and cleared his throat and started again. "Taylor, it wasn't quite love at first sight when I met you. I guess we were just two nervous teenagers thrown together in a strange situation. It just seemed that at the time we both needed a friend and we were there for each other. I confess that my first thoughts about you were more lust than love. I thought that sharing a room with you maybe I'd get to see you naked, though it wasn't long before I got far more than that. I never dreamed what would grow between us. But whatever it was, it did grow, into something huge and strong and beautiful. I suppose this thing between us is what people call love; but that seems such a small, inadequate word for what I feel about you. I'm happier here with you than I've ever been in my life before. Soon we'll be pulled apart. You'll go back to your life and I'll go back to mine. But this thing thing, this 'love' between us is too strong, too special to be spoiled by us just being apart. Somehow, even though we don't see each other everyday, we'll find a way to keep our love as strong as ever. And so I make you this promise: though we may be many miles apart, my heart, my body, everything that I am, will always be yours. If ever you need me, I will move heaven and earth to come to you. I will always love you and even in your absence my thoughts will always be with you, this I solemnly swear."

Taylor's own hand trembled as he placed his fingertips on William's skin. "William, normally I don't have trouble finding words to say what I want. But for some reason, at the moment they won't come. I did like you when we first met though I was a little afraid that because you were a prince, you wouldn't wanted to be bothered with someone like me. Straight away you showed me that that wasn't the case. One of the first things I remember about you was how you came to find me when I was crying in the toilets. You helped me then as you've helped me many times since. You are always strong and dependable and you always know the right thing to say. I feel I've grown a lot since I've been part of the Corps, but most of that growth is down to you. For that, if for nothing else I owe you so much. But much more important than any of that, you've shown me just how strong love really can be. When I first realized my feelings for you, I was scared. I'd never felt anything like that before and I tried to hold back. I might as well have tried to hold back the tides. You swept me away William. I know that after meeting you, my life will never be the same. If the world were a fair place we would never have to be apart. Being away from you will be hard, but the pain of you not being around will only serve to remind me just how much I do love you. And so I make you this promise: though we may be many miles apart, my heart, my body, everything that I am, will always be yours. If ever you need me, I will move heaven and earth to come to you. I will always love you and even in your absence my thoughts will always be with you, this I solemnly swear."

Taylor dropped his hand and they kissed. A simple kiss, yet it conveyed all the feelings they felt for one another. For a long time they stood with their arms around each other, holding each other tightly.

"You're getting cold," said William, feeling the bumps on Taylor's skin. "Let's get back into bed."

"I don't feel cold," Taylor observed. "In fact I feel quite warm. You know, even though we're going to be apart for a while, I think everything is going to turn out all right."

"You can bet on it," William grinned, as he picked Taylor up and carried him back to the bed.

And so ends "The Corps". One day, perhaps, there may be more Corps stories, but until then... Thank you for reading.

All comments, criticisms and suggestions will be most welcome. Please write to me: gym@mailandnews.com or visit my webpage "Stories by Gymnopedies" at http://gymnopedies.tripod.com