He sat only metres in front of her, settled comfortably on one of the small barstools. She gazed at him as he knocked back another scotch, flagging the barkeep down with a polite wave in preparation of another. He rolled the shot glass between his hands, twirling it with his fingers and watching the light dance across its surface. Another scotch slid across the bar and he offered an impish grin to the barkeep before bringing it to his lips and taking a lazy sip.

If she hadn�t been aware of this particular boy�s secrets, she would have been envious. She longed for the warm buzz of a drink; the solitude only found in a bar where it was possible to lose yourself, if only for a few, short hours. But she did know his secrets and Caitlin didn't envy the boy - she pitied him.

With perfectly carved features and taut, hard muscles, this boy was a Manticore soldier, through and through. She glanced briefly at his barcode, showing through beneath his sandy-coloured locks, not quite covered by the collar of his leather jacket. Oh, yes... he was definitely a soldier. But not just any soldier, she knew. This soldier was different. This soldier was the one she had been looking for.

She noticed him cock his head to look at her. With a breathy sigh she swivelled back to the bar and sipped at her Coke, feigning disinterest.

He wouldn't look for long, of course. They never did. Soldier or not, he was still a man and no man ever gave her more than three seconds of their time. They never got past the ordinary face with fading blue eyes, openly displayed beneath the mane of untamed black curls that was constantly pulled back and secured in place with a simple, purple clip. They never bothered to look at the girl buried beneath thick, yet strangely fashionable sweaters that concealed the curves she just didn't have and the fading blue jeans that did nothing for her figure. No, they never bothered. And why would they? She wasn't a pretty girl, she never had been. She was an Ordinary, in every sense of the word.

Not in the mood for a self-pity session, Caitlin craned her neck to gaze at the boy again. She was right, of course. He wasn't looking at her now. Instead he was admiring the bottom of his Scotch glass, willing it to refill itself of its own accord. No such luck. Resorting to waving the barkeep down again, the soldier sighed and ran a hand tiredly down his face, rubbing the heel into his eye as if it would erase the sleepiness from his brain.

He spoke.

"Did anyone ever tell you its impolite to stare?"

She froze - glass hanging in mid-air - and turned to look at him, unsure if he was talking to her or some other stalker in the bar. Finally he glimpsed at her and she gulped nervously. Mouth suddenly dry, she gaped like a fish, wondering briefly where her infamous wit and sarcasm had run off to. Her tongue, currently tasting like sandpaper, flapped helplessly against the roof of her mouth and Caitlin felt the familiar heat as embarrassment pinked her cheeks.

"I--yahhhh..." Shit.

"Cat got your tongue?" He smirked and Caitlin had the strange sense that she was missing out on some private joke. With a huff she turned back to her drink, gulping down the tasteless soda angrily.

"So... want to tell me why I'm being ogled, little girl?" he taunted, grasping his scotch with one hand and swirling the coppery liquid around the glass.

She glared at him and snorted. "Don't flatter yourself, little man. I was just checkin' something out."

He raised an eyebrow and stared at her; suddenly intrigued. "Which was...?"

Caitlin rose from the barstool, throwing a couple of notes onto the bar and turned to look at the boy. He was still waiting and with a smirk she turned to leave, her answer sliding free with silent satisfaction.

"Your designation."

---

Outside of Crash, the rain poured down in heavy sheets and Caitlin stepped warily into the streets, suddenly wishing she had brought a coat. The icy breath of winter awaited her and the Ordinary groaned inwardly, wrapping her arms tightly around her waist. She wanted to turn back; back to the comfortable warmth of the bar. But she couldn't, not after the little scene that had just transpired in there.

She sighed irritably.

The prospect of a nice warm bath urged her on, but a quick glance at her watch told her she'd be too late. It was handy having her own apartment, but when she shared said apartment with five other Ordinaries and a dog named Bert, it wasn't all that pleasant. Hot water was a guaranteed no-no, unless she managed to drag herself out of bed before the 6:00am rush. Nights were even worse. If she wasn't home before 10:00pm, she had no chance. Even if she did make it home, getting past Bert - who seemed to guide the bathroom door day in and day out - was a challenge in itself. After the first few weeks, Caitlin had given up on the idea of a warm bath and resigned herself to cold, morning showers.

The thought of a cold shower now made her shiver and she bought her hands up to her mouth, blowing on them in attempt to warm herself up. She heard the scuffle of shoes behind her and as she twisted to see who it was, she found herself thrown bodily against the nearest brick wall, the wind knocked out of her with a wet thump.

Momentarily dazed, she struggled to take a breath, black spots dancing across her vision. The wind whistled loudly in her ears but Caitlin was oblivious, panic setting in when her lungs refused to take in any air. She was faintly aware of someone talking to her. Strong hands pinned her to the brick wall behind her but Caitlin ignored them, her eyes stinging with tears as her throat tightened. With a spluttering cough she breathed in a mouthful of air, sucking it in hungrily as she regained her senses. The watery image of a young mans face confronted her.

The man from the bar.

"... what I was?"

Caitlin blinked. Taking in deep, shaky breathes, she spoke. "Wha'? I--"

"I said," the man growled, "how did you know what I was?"

She coughed, clearing her throat and regarded the man before her. "How about you take your damn hands off of me," she ground out angrily.

He seemed to consider this for a second, before his grip on her arms loosened. He took a step back and Caitlin pushed herself away from the wall. Brushing non-existent dirt from her clothes, she turned slightly to study him. Even wet he was still handsome, dressed simply in beige khakis and a leather jacket. Sandy-blonde hair lay wet against his forehead and cat-green eyes stared at her in contemplation; fully alert and searching for potential danger. He looked boyish, almost vulnerable, but the wisdom shining in his orbs told her a different story.

"Care to explain yourself?" he questioned, although Caitlin was aware it wasn't a request - it was a command. She looked up at the blackened sky, rain pelting down heavily and wrapped her arms around her waist again, an effort to save what little body warmth she had. She looked back at him, where he stood awaiting an answer.

"Not here."

---

They made their way back to Crash silently, Caitlin lost in her own world in which she struggled to construct an explanation for her current predicament. Words didn't come easy, and as they both settled themselves down at a table in the corner of the bar, she suddenly felt very foolish and very speechless.

He, of course, didn't seem to be in a patient mood tonight, and with a firm glance directed her way, he ordered her to talk.

After weeks of preparing for this little showdown, Caitlin found that she was far from ready. She laughed nervously and cast him a strained smile. "Look," she started, "how about we just forget this ever happened? I'll go home to my nice cold bed, and I'll never mention any of this to anyone. How's that?"

The muscles in her face began to twitch as her smile grew beneath his watchful gaze. Her fingers thrummed absently against the table top and she barely noticed when her heart rate picked up and her breathing became slightly panicked.

His warning glare told her that there was no room for negotiation. "How about you tell me why my designation is so fascinating? You obviously know what I am, and I want to know why."

She sighed, slightly agitated and the dull throbbing of panic numbed her chest, choking her words. She shuffled in her seat nervously and swallowed past the lump in her throat.

"Manticore," she started, and her teeth sank into the soft flesh of her lower lip. "It was my home for almost half a decade."

The transgenic scoffed. "You're not telling me you're an X series. I mean, look at you--"

"I'm human," she declared, cutting him off and ignoring the sting his brief words had left behind. Caitlin wasn't a pretty girl and usually Caitlin didn't care.

She still didn't, she thought, and flickered her gaze upwards to gauge his reaction. He was staring at her curiously, hazel eyes studying intently for a crack in her claim. She knew what he was thinking. Humans her age didn't consider Manticore a home. Most humans didn't even know Manticore existed, and the select few that did were mostly middle-aged and mostly men. Madam Renfro had been the exception.

"There's only one reason why Manticore would involve human girls, and that's for the--"

"--breeding programme," she finished, nodding to herself. "I didn't realise at first what I was involved in. I didn't volunteer for it and I flat out refused to be involved when Renfro asked. I think she figured that after four years in her care, I'd be a little more docile."

"You were under Renfro's care?"

She nodded. "My father was a scientist for Manticore, although I didn't know exactly what type of work he was involved in at the time. There was an accident and my mother and father were killed by a so-called robbery-gone-wrong. I was at school at the time, which was convenient, I suppose."

His brow furrowed. "Convenient?"

"I had my suspicions for a while. They haven't been confirmed, but I've pieced together little bits here and there. From what Renfro's told me and what I found out from the others involved, I'm assuming that she wanted to introduce me to the breeding programme when I was still a child. They do that alot there. If any of the scientists working for Manticore have families, usually they're persuaded into donating their own children to the breeding programme. I'm guessing my father was against the idea, and that's why they were killed and I wasn't." She shrugged nonchalantly, her face seemingly impassive and indifferent. Anyone would have thought she didn't care, but the blood that seeped from her lower lip gave her away.

"Of course, they had to wait until I was old enough for my body to cope with pregnancy. They kept me away from men, too."

She glanced up, noting his raised eyebrows and again, she knew exactly what he was thinking. A breeding programme would have to entail actual breeding, which would have been near impossible without the presence of the male species. But Manticore had always been good at the impossible. She was evidence enough of that.

"I wasn't allowed to have sex. I wasn't even told about sex, so I never thought anything of it. Apparently something about me being a virgin affected the chances of impregnation. Earlier experiments failed because of a chemical difference in humans, triggered my sexual activity. At least that's what they thought it was. No one was sure until they used me to test the theory."

"You mean to tell me you're still a virgin?"

Eyes snapped up to meet his gaze and she swallowed uneasily at the shock and disbelief she found there. Was it so hard to believe?

"Yes."

"... and you're pregnant?"

"Yes."

She watched him watching her intently, nibbling absently on the skin of his thumb. After a minute, he ran a hand through his dirty blonde locks and leant forward in his seat.

"It still doesn't answer my question. Why are you so interested in me and my designation? I would have thought you'd seen your fair share of X5s."

Caitlin shrank visibly back into her seat, dropping her eyes beneath his penetrating gaze. She suddenly wished the world wasn't so unfair, that Manticore had never existed and her parents had never been killed. None of this would be happening if it wasn't for Renfro. She wouldn't be in this predicament if he wasn't for him.

"I was looking for you," she told him, voice steely and confident in contrary to the meltdown she was currently having.

His eyes narrowed, his lips thinned and his whole body tensed when he asked, "why?"

Caitlin pushed forward and met his gaze head on, feeling cocky and brave and contradictingly anxious.