DISCLAIMER: ER is the property of Constant C Productions, Amblin Entertainment, and Warner Brothers Television.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

The Mouths of Babes
By Ainsley Wallace

Section One

"...patient female, twenty one years of age. She was alert and oriented to time and place. Speech was slow, with long pauses, indicating some degree of psychomotor retardation; upon questioning, she reported insomnia, lack of appetite, and feelings of profound sadness. Patient had been found by her boyfriend, laying on the bathroom floor, with self-inflicted cuts on arms and wrists..."

Kim threw down her pen. God she was tired.

What was it about late May that pushed people to try to kill themselves? Four today alone and two the day before. Lately, she'd been spending her whole shift running back and forth to the ER.

"...In interview patient admitted to having inflicted wounds with a razor blade. Mood during interview was extremely dysphoric and I believe that if this major depressive episode is not treated, there is a strong likelihood that she will try to harm herself again..."

"Are you still having thoughts about hurting yourself?" Kim had asked.

The young woman held Kim's eyes for a long moment before a sad smile crept across her lips. "No," she said and there was a longer pause while her gaze turned inward and she looked blankly at her bandaged arms and wrists. "Of course not."

Kim remembered one truly helpful textbook she had been required to read during her first psych rotation in med school. It advised that, in questioning potentially suicidal patients to, "pay close attention for responses such as, "'I have purchased a gun, have ammunition, made out a will, and plan to use it."

Uh-hunh. Something about having just tried to kill themselves made flesh and blood patients a trifle less forthcoming.

"But Colleen, you do admit you tried to harm yourself tonight, don't you?" Kim grabbed the young woman's gaze and held onto it, trying to neither charge nor retreat.

Colleen sighed. It was a long sigh, full of weariness.

"Yes," she said finally. Another pause. "But that was stupid. I see that now."

Translation: next time I'll do a better job.

Kim kept her best non-threatening smile in place. "But you did cut yourself. Just a few hours ago, right?"

A slow nod.

"So what were you hoping to achieve?"

It took a moment but Colleen's expression changed. Confusion and the ghost of suspicion.

"What do you mean?"

"Nobody does anything without a reason," Kim said, her voice soft. "Today you did this." She indicated the woman's bandages. "You must have had your reasons."

Colleen started to rock slightly and looked past Kim into an empty corner of the small exam room. She was quiet so long that Kim wondered whether or not Colleen remembered that she was still in the room.

"The pills aren't working," Colleen finally said, her voice so quiet that Kim had to lean forward to hear her. "I just can't stand it anymore. I'm so tired." Tears leaking out from under closed eyelids.

"The pills?" Kim said. She flipped through her chart quickly and found nothing about medications. "What pills, Colleen?"

Steady rocking, tears streaming silently down her pale cheeks.

"The pills. The anti-depressants."

"You're on an anti-depressant?" Kim asked. "Have you been seeing a doctor for depression?"

"At school. I saw him two months ago. He gave me... something, I forget the name. He said to take them and come back when the prescription ran out."

"Two months ago? How long have you felt depressed, Colleen?"

A shrug. "Since school started."

Kim took a deep breath to keep her voice even. "You don't happen to have those pills with you, do you?"

She nodded. "In my purse."

Without getting up, Kim dug through her hospital issued plastic bag for personal effects and found a small leather shoulder bag among the jeans and sweatshirt. With a reassuring look at Colleen, she dug past a U of Chicago daytimer, a wad of Kleenex, a lipstick and a pack of gum to find an orange vial of pills, about four months worth.

Kim examined the label and wanted to scream. "Okay," she heard herself say in an incredibly reasonable tone, as she pocketed the bottle. She put the shoulder bag back in the plastic bag and stowed it under the bed, then rolled her chair forward and put a soothing hand on Colleen's leg.

"Colleen, I think you're very depressed right now and it seems like those other pills aren't working so well for you."

Colleen's eyes were red rimmed and vacant now, exhausted from the effort of talking.

"I have some ideas about how we can help you to get better, okay? " Kim stood up. "I'm just going to go get a nurse and then we're going to find some new medicines that will help a lot faster. And I'd like to keep you here for a couple of days to make sure you're okay." She touched Colleen's shoulder. "Is that all right with you?"

A half nod and long sigh.

That was all the consent Kim needed for now. She went to find a nurse to sit with her while she arranged her admission. And then she was going to track down the genius that had prescribed six months of tranquilizers for a major depression.

"...Admitted on 05/28/01 to psych. Her parents have been contacted and will arrive 05/29/01. Family session on 05/30/01 at 2:00 p.m."

She closed the chart and tried vainly to stretch the tension out of her neck. She needed a break. Maybe she'd go and check up on that new resident who was parading about like God's gift to psychiatry. She didn't trust the little pissant yet, especially in the ER where you were never sure what you were dealing with.

She glanced at her watch and instantly felt terrible because she had realized that she was still subconsciously timing her days based on Kerry's shifts, breaking the work day into times that were "safe" and "not safe."

It was a "safe" time right now, Kerry's shift having ended an hour ago, but she still felt bad as she punched her code into the security door and left the psych ward. She felt bad all the time where Kerry was concerned. Talking to her didn't seem right, but avoiding her felt worse. She didn't know how to broach any subject with her anymore but felt sad that Kerry had given up trying to engage her in conversation. It seemed that the best thing and the worst thing were the same thing -- they were becoming regular co-workers again. She punched the elevator button with a bit more force than it needed and sighed.

She didn't know what she wanted anymore.

Kerry swung through the ambulance bay doors and took in the scarcity of people in chairs and the small cluster of nurses, relaxing and chatting at the desk. She shook her head. Why did it always get quiet when she was off? She suspected some elaborate conspiracy but couldn't prove it yet.

"Hey, Chief, your shift is over, go home!" Malucci called.

"And yours isn't over, don't you have some work to do somewhere?"

Malucci spread his arms wide. "What can I say? Nice and quiet since you left."

Kerry rolled her eyes and pushed her way into the lounge. She'd gotten all the way home and into comfortable pajamas with a lovely glass of Bordeaux at her elbow when she'd realized that she'd forgotten some budget documents at work for an early morning admin meeting. She fiddled with the combination, yanked her locker open and dug around, looking for a thick file folder.

There was no way in hell she was going to a meeting chaired by Romano without having her t's crossed, her i's dotted and her ass covered. This little game of chicken they were involved in was not to be taken lightly. She didn't care how hard she had to work, she was not going to be the first one to blink.

She left the lounge and was headed for the back door, when it suddenly occurred to her that Romano might try to sneak scheduling issues onto the meeting's agenda. She'd best be prepared.

A little ripple swept through the staff at the admit desk, as she doubled back and walked by. She was never sure why that was now. Was it the fact that she was their boss that made them drop their voices to a quieter tone when she walked by? Or was it the now fairly common knowledge that she was a lesbian and had at one point been involved with Dr. Legaspi? (Hell, the way the grapevine grew in this place, probably the guy who sold papers on the corner had heard the story.)

She hated that it bothered her, but if she was honest, she had to say that it did. Less out of a sense of shame than a sense of sorrow, now though. It was one more thing that separated her from them, it seemed, like her crutch had always done, like her brains and her drive had done. It was sad, that was all.

She turned into the exam room hallway to find Luka slouched in the desk chair, a pile of charts beside him.

"Well, it's nice to see someone working tonight," Kerry said, with enough of a smile that he knew she was teasing.

"I thought you were off a while ago," he said.

"I forgot some things for a meeting tomorrow morning," she said.

He nodded and pushed the chair away so that she could reach the desk drawers. He watched while she shuffled papers about, trying to find what she needed.

"You know you work too much," Luka said with that easy smile of his.

It stopped her and she looked over at him. "I know I do," she said, shifting her weight onto her crutch.

"It's been a stressful few months for you. No one would blame you if you took some time for yourself. Had some fun."

She chuckled. "Fun. Yes. Well, as soon as I figure out how exactly one does that, I'll look into it." She went back to searching for her schedules.

"Dr. Kovac," a voice called, from down the hall. "I have the labs on your MI in five."

Luka hesitated, uncertain as to whether he should continue with this conversation, or whether he wanted to keep his job. He decided the safest route for everyone was to go check in on his patient.

"Have a good night, Kerry," he said over his shoulder as he walked away.

"You, too, Luka," Kerry said.

She laid her hand on the last document she needed and stuffed it into the file folder, then straightened up and flipped her crutch around, ready to go.

She heard the footsteps and then for a flash, she felt like laughing. Imagine it being so quiet in here that she could hear footsteps.

And then, from the corner of her eye, she registered blue silk and long legs, flowing blonde hair. She did a double take and there was Kim, at the end of the hall, just off the elevators probably, pinning her in place with those glacial blue eyes. She had an overwhelming urge to run away.

That was the last image Kerry remembered.

Kim rode down to the ground floor, leaning against the back wall of the elevator, arms crossed. Officially her shift was over, most of her paperwork was done and she was not the supervisor of this new little baby resident, so she was not obligated to come down here and see what the hell he was up to now. But, she'd told Carl she'd keep an unofficial eye on him and truth be told, she hadn't wanted to be home much, lately. It didn't have the same feeling it used to have. Mainly, she stayed at the hospital, worked really long hours, took other people's shifts and ... had no idea why she was doing this. The elevator chimed to announce the ground floor.

Some psychiatrist you are, she thought.

She headed for the ER.

The words "deer in the headlights" took on a whole new meaning when they spotted each other. Kim was torn by a sudden and not very grownup urge to just turn and march straight back up to the psych ward. The only thing that kept her there that extra moment, eyes locked with Kerry's, was the knowledge that Kerry was no doubt struggling with the same thing. Kim's face softened into a smile -- it was such a silly situation, surely they could both just laugh at this.

Kim never saw him coming.

Her mind knew he must have roared out of one of the exam rooms, but his appearance was so sudden and unexpected that at the moment he burst into the hall, it seemed like he should have been accompanied by a puff of smoke.

He was massive, football player sized and filthy. Long, dark stringy hair and layers of clothing that weren't identifiable colours anymore. In the instant that she could see his face and his eyes, she thought, 'Schizophrenic, very high on drugs. We'll have to admit him." And then she realized that he was moving toward Kerry. Her heart skipped a beat.

"JESUS WILL PUNISH YOU!!" he bellowed in an otherworldly voice and he snatched Kerry up as if she was weightless and then threw her face first into the wall beside the desk, the papers she held fluttering slowly to the ground. "HE WILL PUNISH YOU FOR WHAT YOU DO TO ME!!!!" he screamed, his face red with fury and exertion.

Kerry's body slid slowly and awkwardly down the wall, leaving a trail of mucus and blood, her hand flailing blindly for her lost crutch.

Kim bounded forward, a stifled scream in her throat. Two strides and someone grabbed her by the waist and was holding her back, pulling her backwards. It was Luka, out of breath and speaking quietly. "No, you have to stay here!"

Kim struggled out of his grasp. "She's hurt! I have to --"

"He's too big. Stay behind me." Luka stepped in front of her, then crept forward along the wall, slipping in behind a huge rolling cart of supplies. Kim followed.

"Hey, buddy, it's okay, settle down, settle down." Malucci's voice, coming from the other end of the hallway near the admit desk.

The giant man turned to look at him then pointed a trembling finger. "YOU'RE ALL SINNERS! SINNERS!! JESUS WILL PUNISH YOU FOR WHAT YOU DO TO ME!!"

"Yeah, well, that's not the first time I've been told that," Malucci said. "Hey, Chief? You okay down there?"

Kerry dragged herself to a sitting position, her head reeling. She couldn't find her crutch and she was having a hard time focusing...goddamit where was this blood coming from? She clumsily got on all fours and began to crawl slowly out from behind the side of the desk. Malucci caught sight of her, blood streaming out of her nose and he panicked. He took a step toward her and the giant erupted.

"HE WILL PUNISH YOU! HE WILL PUNISH YOU!!" he screamed and he grabbed Kerry off the floor like a rag doll, swung her around and slammed her into the observation window to exam room two. There was an explosion of glass and when he stepped back, Kerry was slumped over his beefy forearm. "I WON'T ABIDE THIS!! YOU WILL NOT HURT ME!!" He smashed his way through a pile of sterile trays on one of the supply carts with his free hand until he found a scalpel.

"Ohmygod, Kerry. Kerry!" Kim whispered and she struggled to push past Luka again. He grabbed her by the wrist and reeled her in, pulled her back against the wall with him.

"No," Luka whispered.

"He's going to kill her!!"

"And you think you running in there will stop him?" Luka spat back. "Just stay behind me."

He checked the man's position again and continued his steady pace forward, pushing Kim back with one arm.

Kim held her breath and found herself reciting some long forgotten childhood prayer.

Kerry was draped limply over the man's arm, her face bleeding profusely. Malucci was gripped with a sudden urge to beat this guy to the floor, cut off his testicles and feed them to him. But he couldn't do that until he got the Chief away from him.

"So, uh, mister. This punishing...is this going to be your average lake of fire, never ending torture sort of hell punishment..."

The man looked blankly at him. "You're a blasphemer."

"Oh, gosh, no. If there's one thing my mother insisted on at our house it was no blaspheming." Malucci took a couple of slow steps forward, got himself closer to the fire extinguisher on the wall.

"YOU WILL BE PUNISHED FOR HARMING ME!" the man screamed again and he made a slashing gesture by Kerry's throat with the scalpel. Her head bobbed lazily.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Let's get finished punishing me first, shall we?" A small step forward. Where the fuck was security?

The man stared at him, unmoving, the scalpel perilously close to Kerry's bleeding face. "I FEAR NO MAN," he screamed.

"Actually, I think that there is one man you should worry about. " He pointed behind the man to Luka. "Him."

The man spun, whipping Kerry limply with him. Luka lunged and grabbed for Kerry's boneless form just as Malucci snatched the fire extinguisher off the wall and nailed the giant in the back of the head.

The huge man teetered, then righted himself. Shrieking and cursing, he held on to Kerry and dragged Luka off balance with him, then slashed at him with the scalpel. Luka pulled back to avoid the blade and lost his grip on Kerry. The man twisted around to face Malucci who delivered a glancing blow with the fire extinguisher.

The man's knees buckled and he wavered and was on the verge of regaining his balance when Luka tackled him. The force knocked them both over and slammed them into the floor. Malucci landed on top, pinning limbs and yelling for Haldol, frantically trying to find the scalpel. There was a tangle of arms and legs on the floor and when Abby arrived moments later with a syringe, she wasn't entirely sure which leg to inject.

"Goddammit, give him the drugs," Malucci yelled, straining to peel the man off Kerry, who appeared to be on the bottom of the scrum.

Kim lunged for the syringe, grabbed the man's leg and shot. Thirty seconds later, the struggling stopped.

Luka untangled himself and was up in a flash, out of breath. He and Malucci dragged the giant off Kerry's tiny form. "Malucci, take Malik, and get him into four point restraints, now!" Luka said.

"Yeah," Malucci muttered, "and I'm gonna make 'em hurt."

Kim had pushed her way through and knelt beside Kerry's prone form. Kerry's face was washed with her own blood and one eye was swollen shut.

"Kerry? Kerry?" she called loudly. "I need you to talk to me, Ker. Come on."

Luka dropped to his knees beside Kerry and quickly assessed. "Get a gurney and a collar over here, move!"

Abby said, "Luka?"

He looked at Abby who was at Kerry's feet.

"Oh, Christ, we broke her leg," he muttered.

"I'll get a traction splint," Abby said as she got to her feet.

Kim stroked Kerry's head and vainly wiped blood away from her face, trying to make contact somehow, to let her know she was there. She lowered her face to within inches of Kerry's and spoke her name loudly. In response heard Kerry's laboured, uneven breathing.

"She's having trouble breathing," Kim said quietly, her voice choked with fear and helplessness. The chaos raged on around her. Somebody was helping the new psych resident to walk out of exam two where apparently he'd been interviewing the schizophrenic giant. He held an ice bag on his head and even from here she could tell he was whining. She drew in a ragged breath. "She's having trouble breathing!" she shouted and Luka's head turned quickly.

"Where's that gurney?! We need it NOW!"

They flew threw the doors to the trauma room, pushing the tiny figure on the stretcher.

"Dr. Legaspi," Luka said, as he pulled on gloves, "she has a bad cut on forehead, near the scalp. I want you to apply pressure to it."

Abby wrapped a paper gown around Kim and handed her gloves and Kim quickly took up residence at the head of the gurney and promptly staunched the flow of blood from the cut. From where she stood, she could see the tiny fragments of glass embedded in Kerry's cheek. A sob caught in her throat and she forced it down.

Lydia and Chuny were cutting off Kerry's bloodstained clothing and Kim stared at the khaki pants with big square pockets on the legs that they were slicing open. She recognized those pants and the realization hit her like a fist to the stomach. She had been with Kerry the day she had bought those. Kim had dragged her into the Gap and made her try on pair after pair.

"When am I ever going to wear these?" Kerry had said about this very pair of pants. "Look at the pockets. They're way too casual."

Kim had rolled her eyes. "That's exactly the point, Ker. They're casual. To wear when not working. You know, that having-a-life part of your life." She'd looked the tiny woman up and down. "Besides, they look great on you."

Kerry had bought them.

"Abby, order a CBC, UA, lytes, blood gas and type and cross match two -- no, three units. Those scalp wounds are bleeding a lot." Luka was listening to Kerry's lungs and then checking her mouth as he hollered instructions. "Somebody get X-ray in here. I want head, chest, c-section and right tib-fib shots."

"Hey!" Abby shouted at the crowd of people at the trauma room door. "Get the hell out of here! This isn't a show!" She pushed the doors shut. "Chuny, pull those blinds over there, would you?"

Kerry's clothes lay on the floor in blood-soaked rags now and Kim watched Lydia pull a pristine sheet up over Kerry's blood spattered body.

At least she's not cold. She gets cold so easily and that always makes her hip ache. She was so surprised when I bought her that down duvet, she didn't know it would --

A trill from the heart monitor made everyone stop and look.

"Dr. Kovac, heartbeat is at 110," Lydia said. "Puls/ox dropping slightly to eighty-eight." She glanced at Kim then looked away.

"What's her pressure?"

"Ninety over fifty-five."

"She hasn't lost that much blood, but she's getting shocky. Give her a minute, we're replacing fluids, now." He never looked up from Kerry's leg, which he was covering with sterile gauze.

Kim heard the sudden change in Kerry's breathing. Like she was at the bottom of a lake and was fighting to get a lungful of air. The machine caught it a heartbeat later.

"She's in respiratory distress," Abby said. "Tachy at 143, resps shallow. Puls/ox 84."

No, no, no, no, no. Don't do this Kerry, please, don't do this.

Luka was there in a stride, pushing Kim aside. "Dammit, we need to intubate. Lydia, push an amp of epi."

Kim stepped back, both hands clasped to her mouth as if she was trying to hold something in.

It wasn't supposed to happen like this.

That's why I can't be your friend, Kerry.

Don't you ever talk to me in front of a resident like that again..

"I can't see what I'm doing, Lydia, suction this blood," Luka barked.

Kim, I want you to stay.

I just want to move on with my life...so should you.

"Okay, I'm in," Luka said. "Bag her."

Abby applied pressure to Kerry's scalp lac as she squeezed the blue bag and forced air into Kerry's lungs, keeping one eye on the heart monitor all the while.

Are you gonna watch me again?

That shy, seductive smile as she nodded.

Have a nice life. Goodbye, Kerry.

Abby caught Kim's eye and smiled reassuringly. "She's going to be okay. Don't worry."

Kim nodded numbly.

She's so small, lying there on the stretcher. And so exposed. This is her worst nightmare, being so vulnerable.

Kim watched the monitor, saw the pounding rhythm slowing and the blood pressure slowly climbing. "Come on, Kerry," she muttered, her eyes darting between Kerry's blood streaked face and the monitors.

Two gut wrenching minutes later, a normal sinus rhythm and regular respiration. "All right," Luka said. "Who's on call for surgery?"

"Anspaugh," someone said.

"Good. Stat page him and tell him to bring someone from ortho down here. They're going to need to debride this leg in the OR. And call somebody from plastics to come and do her sutures. I don't want those facial lacs to scar." Lydia nodded and scurried to the phone. "Abby, I need to reduce this fracture. Can you help me?" Luka said.

"Be right there. I'm just finishing with the respirator," she said. She taped the last tube in place, then glanced over at Kim.

"Do you want me to get you a chair? You could sit with her," she said.

Kim nodded and tried to find her voice.

Abby rolled a stool over to the side of the gurney and looked back at Kim, a question in her eyes.

"Dr. Legaspi? Are you all right? You look really pale."

"I'm -- I'm fine. I just need to -- uh--"

She turned and strode out of the trauma room, peeling off her paper gown and blood stained gloves as she went. Dodging gurneys and carts and the maintenance people mopping up the blood in the hallway. She turned a last corner, slammed the door to the women's room open, ran the last two steps and dove into a stall where she emptied her stomach several times.

A few minutes later, a quiet whine as the door slid open. Muted footsteps and tapping on the stall's door.

"Dr. Legaspi?" Abby called softly. "You okay?"

Kim opened the door and emerged, disheveled and very pale. "Yeah, I'm okay. I had to...I, uh, just got sick."

Kim went to the first sink and ran the cold water hard. One glance up at the mirror and she saw the blood she'd inadvertently smeared on her cheek in the trauma room. Kerry's blood. She spun around and lunged back into the stall.

Abby waited quietly until the retching had stopped.

A flush of water and Kim reappeared. She went directly to the sink and splashed water on her face a few times, then took the paper towels that Abby held out. "I guess I'm not cut out for the ER," Kim said and she forced a half-smile.

"Oh, if that was true, you wouldn't have made it out of medical school," Abby said. "Uh, you've still got some on your face...there." She pointed to her own cheek to guide her. Kim scrubbed at it with the rough towel.

"I brought you some scrubs," Abby said. "I thought you might want to change." She pointed at the dark stains on her blouse and pants.

Kim let out a measured breath and took the pile of clothes. "Thank you, Abby. I appreciate it."

"Sure," Abby said and she headed for the door. "I think Dr. Weaver will be coming around in the next few minutes. Might be good if you were there."

Kim nodded. A real smile this time.

Abby pulled open the door and then turned. "Oh and don't worry about feeling sick. It's not the blood, you know. It's the fact that it's someone you care about that gets to you."

She left and Kim stared at the door for a long time.

The sound of the respirator comes first. Hissing and clicking and such pressure in her chest, pain in her side. She just wants to sleep, just fall backwards and sleep and sleep, and why can't someone turn down the noise?

Hiss, click.

Hiss, click.

The ache is so deep down inside of her she thinks it will consume her. It hurts, her leg, her head, her chest. She doesn't want to move but she's so cold.

People talk and she doesn't even try to listen.

"Kerry?"

Kim.

She forces her good eye open to find her.

Kim is there, holding her hand. Kim is talking to her, telling her things and she knows she should listen but she just can't seem to stay awake. She looks like hell.

A shiver and then she drifts on.

Kerry's eyelid bobbed once more then shut for good and Kim barely resisted the urge to shout for her to come back. They were taking her to surgery soon anyway. There would be time to talk later. And there was a lot to say.

"Abby?" Kim said.

Abby looked up from her chart.

"Could you get her another heated blanket? She's cold."

Abby paused, cast a glance at the still form of Dr. Weaver, then nodded. "Sure," she said.

Kerry came slowly back into her body.

The pain was everywhere and it throbbed in time with the beating of her heart. She winced and lifted a clumsy hand to touch her face, felt gauze with her fingertips instead.

She tried to force her eyes open and the pain felt like she'd been hit in the face with a shovel. One lid eased open, but the other remained stubbornly stuck. The wooziness welled up then and she concentrated on drawing in the next breath and then the next until it passed. It felt like a horse had kicked her in the ribs. At least one, maybe two broken ribs, she figured.

She stared at the ceiling with her good eye. This had to be the hospital. Only County could have painted a room the colour of bile, she thought. She experimented with her limbs, found one particularly leaden and gazed down to see her leg, propped on a stack of pillows, encased in a white fiberglass cast.

She sank back and let the air rush out of her. The room seemed misty somehow and the pounding ache below her knee made her stomach turn. She rolled her head to one side, searching for the call button and instead, saw Kim sitting in the chair in the corner, her head leaned back against the wall, asleep. Her arms were curled around herself in protection, or maybe for warmth. It was strange to see her in scrubs. She looked fragile and ... so beautiful. Kerry lay there a moment and watched her sleep.

A noise outside the door and Kim's eyes fluttered open. She was instantly alert, looking toward the bed.

Their eyes met.

"Kerry?" she said and suddenly, there were tears in her eyes.

She got up and hurried to the side of the bed. "Hey," she said, softly grabbing Kerry's hand and holding it between her own. "You're awake. How do you feel?"

Kerry opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. She forced a cough, that made her head pound, then tried to clear her throat. Kim quickly poured her a glass of water and adjusted the straw so that she could sip it.

"I'm all right, I think. Kind of sore," she said, after she'd taken a drink.

Kim retrieved her hand and pressed it to her cheek, held it there. "You had me pretty worried, there." She was trying to smile through the hint of tears that remained and Kerry lay there watching her, unable to look away. Such gentleness in her touch, those hands, God, Kerry remembered those hands. She gave herself a little shake. Don't do this.

"What happened?" she asked.

Kim described the events of the night before, including the hypovolemic shock and the surgery.

"Was everybody all right? Malucci and Luka and the resident? Did he hurt anybody else?" Kerry asked.

"No, everybody's fine. I wanted to beat the resident within an inch of his useless little life, but cooler heads prevailed. A concussion was probably enough."

Kerry smiled slightly then winced. "My face," she said. "It's cut, isn't it?" She explored her forehead and nose with tender fingers.

"Don't worry about those," Kim said, stroking and smoothing back strands of fine red hair. "Dr. Kovac got on the phone and got the senior resident from plastics to come and stitch everything up. He guaranteed there'd be no scarring." She touched Kerry's pale cheek. "Are you in pain? Do you want me to get the nurse?"

"Maybe in a minute," Kerry said. She looked over at the IV bag. "Is it morphine?"

Kim nodded.

Kerry's good eyelid was dipping, lulled by the touch of Kim's fingers, stroking her cheek. How many mornings had Kim woken her just like this, tenderly caressing her face, her shoulders, her breasts.

She snapped back into herself and opened her eye. This wasn't right. She couldn't let herself need this again. Not after how it had all ended. She couldn't ever go through that again.

"Kerry?" Kim asked, sensing the change. "What's the matter? Are you all right?"

Kerry let her head roll to the side to look at Kim. She searched her face, plumbed the depth of those sapphire eyes and then saw it.

"So you were there. You saw it all happen?" Kerry asked.

Kim nodded and her smile faded and winked out. "Yeah. I was right there."

"What were you coming to the ER for?" Kerry asked, her face impassive.

"Uh, I was coming to check up on the psych resident," she said and confusion was slowly taking over her expression.

Kerry watched her closely but saw only the look on her face at the end of the hall when they'd spotted each other. Remembered the polite and firm rebuttal of her letter, the unanswered phone calls, the hollow ache that she had carried around for weeks that made her mangled tibia pale in comparison. She disentangled her hand from Kim's under the pretext of trying to shift position slightly.

"Kerry, what is it?" Kim asked and there was real concern in her voice now.

"I'm kind of sore," Kerry said and she avoided meeting Kim's questioning eyes. "I think I should probably just sleep some more."

Kim nodded numbly. "Okay. Are you sure you don't want more pain medication?"

"No, I'm just going to sleep for a while," she said. "You should go on home."

I want to be with you, Kim wanted to say, but instead it came out "I could stay, if you want."

"No, you look beat. Go home. Get some rest."

Kim hesitated, still trying to divine what had just passed through Kerry's mind. "Well, okay," she said finally. "Will you be all right? Is there anything you need?"

"No, I'm fine, Kim, thanks," Kerry said and she was already settling deeper into her pillows.

Kim got to her feet. "Well, okay. I'll come by later to see how you are," Kim said.

"You don't need to worry about me."

Kim stood there for a long moment. You're not fine, she thought. But she could take a hint.

"All right," she said. "Sleep well." She impulsively dropped a kiss on Kerry's forehead and then smoothed her hair once more. "I'll see you later."

Kerry nodded sleepily.

Kim left, stopping once at the door to glance back at the tiny woman in the bed and wonder what the hell had just happened.

Kerry waited a full five minutes before she let herself cry.

It was suppertime the next day before Kim returned, a half hour before her shift started, bearing a very large bouquet of richly coloured tulips, roses and irises in one hand, and a bag from a deli in the other. She got off the elevator and headed for Kerry's room with a little bounce in her step. She felt much better than when she'd left. She'd gotten a little sleep, had taken a shower and mainly, when she'd called to check on Kerry's condition, she was told that she seemed to be improving. Apparently she'd even eaten a little bit. Kim had chuckled at that, wondering what sort of culinary hell they'd presented her with. The thought of Kerry trying to choke down cream of wheat and green jell-o had prompted her visit to the "The Bountiful Bagel" near her house to secure a vegetarian and cream cheese on whole-wheat bagel for her.

The place had made her smile wistfully. They'd spent a few Sunday mornings sitting in "The Bountiful Bagel," eating breakfast, drinking coffee and working their way through the Sunday paper. There should have been more days like that.

Maybe it wasn't too late to correct that.

She pushed open the door to the wing where Kerry's room was and was sailing past the nurse's station when someone called her name. She turned.

A tiny little thing in nurse's scrubs hurried out to talk to her. Kim remembered her from the other night.

"Nancy, hi," she said. "I'm just going in to visit Dr. Weaver."

"Well, that's the thing," Nancy said, wringing her hands. "Dr. Weaver has asked for no visitors."

Kim looked mutely at her. Finally she shook her head to clear it. "I beg your pardon?"

"She asked that we not allow any visitors at all," Nancy said, eyes full of sympathy.

Kim stood there, staring blankly at Nancy. "Oh," she said. "I see."

"I think she mustn't want all of her co-workers dropping in all day, " the tiny nurse continued. "She was pretty badly hurt and I think she just wants to rest."

Kim's mind was humming as she worked her way through possibilities and explanations. "I see," she said again. "And I suppose that she doesn't want any phone calls, either?"

Nancy shook her head. "No, she specifically asked for no phone calls. No one has been in or out except Dr. Anspaugh and Dr. Carroll from plastics." She gestured towards the flowers. "That's a gorgeous bouquet, Dr. Legaspi. I'd be happy to bring it in to her and tell her you were here."

"Sure," Kim said, handing over the flowers in slow motion, her mind still reeling. "Oh and this," she said, giving her the bag. "It's a sandwich and it could spoil. It should probably be refrigerated."

"Sure thing, I can do that," Nancy said, taking the flowers and the bag. "And would you like me to give Dr. Weaver a message?"

Kim stared at the vivid purples and reds and yellows in the bouquet. "Yes, please. Would you tell her that I send my love?"

Nancy smiled and nodded. "I will tell her," she said as she headed for the nursing desk. "And I'm sure she'll love these."

Kim walked away suddenly feeling very cold and stiff. She wasn't sure of that at all.

She rode up the three floors to the Psych ward, buzzed her way in, nodded to the clerk at the main desk and headed straight for her cubbyhole of a workspace. A quick search of the hospital directory and moments later, Donald Anspaugh was answering his phone.

"Dr. Anspaugh, I'm so glad I caught you," Kim said. "This is Kim Legaspi in psych. I wonder if you could tell me what time you expect to do your post-op rounds tomorrow?..."

Kerry hadn't been surprised to see Kim, but she hadn't seemed exactly delighted either. Fortunately, all the pressure was taken off Kim when Kerry announced that she intended to leave the hospital the next day. Kim could do little more than stand in the corner with her arms crossed and watch the tennis match.

"For heaven's sake Kerry, it's only been a little over forty eight hours since we operated on you," Anspaugh said. "There's no way I'm releasing you yet."

"But Donald, I feel fine," Kerry said. She was propped into a sitting position, a handful of pillows stuffed behind her. One eye was still purple and swollen shut and the bruises on her face were crisscrossed with neat little rows of sutures and butterfly bandages. She still cradled her broken ribs with one arm and she winced whenever anyone came near her leg. Kim studied her carefully. Jesus, why won't she just admit she's in pain?

"What are two more days in a hospital bed going to accomplish?" Kerry continued. "It would be so much more restful to be at home. And you know I'm perfectly capable of monitoring my condition."

"Maybe so, but may I remind you that you had one hell of a fracture. You've got more screws in that leg than I've got in my Buick. You are probably a couple of weeks away from even being able to use crutches because of the swelling. How could you manage at home?"

"Look, Donald, if you're worried about a lawsuit --"

Anspaugh stiffened. "I'm sorry Kerry, but I think you've mistaken me for Robert Romano."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you, it's just that --"

"For heaven's sake, be reasonable," he shouted. "You're still on a catheter, Kerry! Even when we do release you, you're going to need home care."

"Donald, you know darn well that I can leave AMA," Kerry said.

"Yes and you're just about that stubborn, aren't you?" he shot back.

"I could take care of her," Kim said, quietly.

Anspaugh and Kerry turned to look at her, blank expressions all round.

"What?" Kerry said.

"I could take you home and take care of you there. If you wanted."

Anspaugh flipped the chart closed. "She's much better off here," he said, shaking his head. "She's going to need physio and nursing care and I want her meds carefully --"

"I can do all those things," Kim said, moving a little closer to Kerry's bed. "That is, if you want me to."

There was something cold and hard in Kerry's gaze and it made Kim want to take a step back. "You see, Donald," she said, without taking her eyes from Kim, "I'll be fine."

Anspaugh rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet and looked very much like he would like to hit something. Finally, he sighed. "All right. All right. Since there's no talking sense to you..." He opened her chart again and scribbled something down, then pointed his pen at Kim. "I'm holding you responsible, Dr. Legaspi. I want you to follow my discharge orders to the letter and I want to know the moment there is a change in her condition. Do you understand?"

Kim just stopped herself from saluting. "Yes, Dr. Anspaugh," she said.

The stocky man stormed out, muttering to himself.

There was a heated silence.

"Nice flowers," Kim said, indicating the huge bouquet that sat on a table near the window.

Kerry nodded. "They're lovely," she said lifelessly. "Thank you."

Kim's smile faded. "What?"

"What the hell was that about?" Kerry demanded.

"What was what?"

"I didn't ask for your help."

Kim felt the words like a slap. Colour rushed to her cheeks. "I just thought that if you wanted to get out of here --"

"I can take care of myself," Kerry said.

Kim approached the bed, tried to meet Kerry's eyes. "No Kerry, the reality of it is that right now you can't take care of yourself. Not completely anyway. You're going to be in bed for a while and then in a wheelchair. You're going to need --"

"I can hire a private duty nurse."

Kim laughed. "On our benefits? I don't think so." She sat down on the side of the bed. "Kerry, please. What's the matter? What is this about?"

Kerry pursed her lips and looked away. Kim saw a bead of blood well up where a cut had opened on her bottom lip. She reached for a tissue.

"I see how you look at me, Kim," Kerry said, her voice low and wavering. "You feel sorry for me." Her eyes, cold and angry, met Kim's. "I am an object of pity to you. Well, I don't need your pity."

Kim froze, tissue in hand. "Pity? What are you talking about? Kerry, I don't feel sorry for you. I care about you. Very much. You must know that."

Kerry turned and fixed her good eye on Kim. "A few weeks ago, you didn't care enough to return my phone calls or even speak to me about anything besides an admit."

Kim hung her head. "Okay, I realize that I may have been acting selfishly, but at the time --"

"Oh come on, Kim, I'm not stupid. You're here because you feel guilty, plain and simple. One minute you're avoiding me like the plague, then I'm hurt and suddenly you're my best friend."

Kim tried to touch Kerry's hand, but Kerry pulled it away. "I know it must seem to you that --"

"You said it to me once, Kim and now I'll say it: I don't want to be your friend." Her voice cracked. "I can't."

Kim said nothing. She looked at the tissue she held in her hand for a long moment. "You're lip is bleeding," she said and she handed her the tissue. Kerry dabbed at her lip with it.

Kim took a measured breath and let it out slowly. Clearly, we weren't going to be talking sense here today. Might as well move on. Kim stood up.

"Well, it seems to me you have a dilemma. Do you want to go home or not? If you do, I'm part of the deal," Kim said, crossing her arms and suddenly, she was the no-nonsense psychiatrist. "I'm offering because I want to do this, Kerry not because I feel sorry for you. So what'll it be?"

She watched the tight line of Kerry's jaw as she clenched and unclenched it. Finally the red head nodded, shoulders slumped in defeat. "Okay. But you don't have to stay over. You can just come during the day. Part of the day."

Kim headed for the door, already thinking about where she was going to order a hospital bed from. "We'll see," she said as she left.

Kim turned off the engine, opened her door and nearly staggered backwards from the blast furnace of heat and humidity. God, what a city, she thought not for the first time since she'd moved to Chicago. If the heat doesn't kill you, the snow and cold will. She glanced up and checked the angry sky that was just beginning to churn and darken. There was going to be a storm -- a dandy by the looks of it -- but they'd get Kerry inside long before that was a problem.

By the time she'd gotten around to the other side of her Jetta, Luka had already opened the rear doors and was gently helping Kerry to slide out.

"You know Luka, you didn't have to take time away from your day off to come and do this," Kerry was saying. Kim rolled her eyes and opened the trunk to get out Kerry's wheelchair. Oh yes he did, she thought. I can lift you from the chair to the bed and back but up those front steps? Not a chance. Maybe in a fireman's carry in a real emergency, but she could pretty much guarantee that nobody was going to enjoy that.

Luka helped Kerry shift around so he could pick her up. "I don't mind at all, Kerry," he said and scooped her into his arms as if she were a small child. A small child in a nightgown, a sweater and a bulky cast. "In fact, it's my pleasure." He shut the car door with his hip. "It's not very often I get to sweep a beautiful woman off her feet."

Kim stifled a smile as she set the wheelchair down on the sidewalk. That had shut her up. She made a mental note to ask Luka if he'd been brought up in a family full of sisters, or if they just grew them like him in Croatia.

She jogged ahead of them with Kerry's keys and got the front door open. A blessed breeze of cold air hit her and she thanked God for the earlier inspiration to come over here and turn on the central air before she went to pick Kerry up at County.

Luka and Kerry passed, her tiny arm slung around his neck, and then headed for the living room where Kim had the hospital bed set up.

"This is just ridiculous," Kerry was saying. "I don't need this! I'd be perfectly fine in my own bed."

Kim tagged along beside them, moving objects out of Luka's way, clearing a path for them. "Yeah, except your own bed is upstairs, Kerry and I don't see you managing those stairs for quite some time."

Kerry opened her mouth to argue, suddenly thought better of it and shut it quickly.

He set her gently down on the edge of the bed, then carefully swung her legs around. Kerry collapsed back into the pillows that Kim had arranged, clearly exhausted from the trip home. Her fatigue didn't stop her running apology to Luka, though.

"Here we've taken up your whole morning, Luka," she said, "and you and Abby probably had plans."

"Well, actually," he said as he lifted her cast to prop it on pillows, "Abby was doing laundry this morning."

"Oh," Kerry said. "Well, I'm still sorry we had to bother you to do this."

"Luka," Kim said, "can I offer you something to drink? I made some lemonade earlier."

"Sure, yes," he said, "that would be nice."

"Kerry, how about you?"

"Did I have lemonade in the freezer?" she asked, puzzled.

Kim shook her head. "I got a few groceries."

Again, a war of emotions on Kerry's face. "Yeah, I'll have a glass, thanks."

Luka followed Kim to the kitchen and leaned against the counter as she got out some glasses.

"So," he said. "Are you two going to be all right here?"

Kim laughed softly. "Do you mean will I be all right caring for her catheter, or do you mean will I kill her in her sleep?"

Luka laughed heartily but quietly. "She's not exactly --"

"In her right mind?" Kim offered.

Another deep chuckle. "I was going to say 'herself,' but your description is good, too."

Kim got the pitcher from the fridge and poured lemonade into the glasses. "She's had a rough few months and then this... it's not surprising that she's a little bent out of shape."

"Ah, is that a psychiatric term, 'bent out of shape?'"

Kim smiled. "Actually it is. I'm proposing that it be in the next DSM, along with 'crazy as a loon'."

She handed Luka his lemonade and they drank greedily.

"Many people don't realize that Kerry is a very passionate woman," Luka said. "They don't see past her exterior at work. She's a very complex person actually. I think even she hasn't made it through all the layers." He studied his ice cubes as if they were telling him secrets.

Kim cocked her head and looked at him. "I think you're right on all counts."

He lifted his eyes. "She was very much in love with you," he said, matter of factly.

A slow, sad smile grew on Kim's lips. "She talked to you about...us?"

He nodded, gulped some more lemonade. "She didn't say a lot, but it was significant coming from her."

"It's been...difficult," Kim said. "I'm not sure where we stand with each other anymore."

Luka drained his glass and crunched a tiny piece of ice. "Well," he said, "you're here aren't you?"

Kim said nothing for a long moment, then nodded. "Yeah, I am."

Luka grabbed Kerry's glass. "I'll bring this in to the patient, if you would pour me another glass."

He headed off to the living room while Kim got the pitcher out again and refilled his glass.

He was right. She was here. She wanted to be here, with Kerry, taking care of her. But that wasn't the problem now, was it?

She walked Luka to the door some time later, after he'd said his goodbyes to Kerry.

"Are you sure I can't drive you?" Kim said.

"No, I'm fine. I'll just hop on the El," he said.

"All right, if you're certain." Kim said. "Thanks a lot for the help today. We couldn't have done this without you."

"My pleasure," he said, with a genuine smile. He reached down and gave Kim a quick hug. "Take care and call if you need anything."

She let him out and watched him trot down the front steps, then she shut the door and leaned against it.

Well, she thought, and she just stood there, soaking in the familiarity of being in Kerry's house again. The faint smell of furniture polish and cinnamon -- a pot pourri somewhere, maybe. A few of Kerry's coats neatly hung in the closet beside her. And the unmistakable feeling of Kerry in everything. She had thought she would never be here again, standing at this door again. Living together again, however briefly.

Some little voice in the back of her mind fluttered and fussed and let her know that it was a foolish and dangerous thing to let herself feel too good about this. She thought for a moment, and then told the voice to shut up, because she really wasn't interested.

Kerry was cradling her sore ribs and craning her neck to look around her living room when Kim reappeared.

"Where did all these flowers come from?" she asked.

"Well, let's see," Kim said, flopping down in a chair beside her bed. She pointed to the coffee table. "Those over there are from the doctors in the ER, and the bigger bunch beside it are from the nurses."

"That figures," Kerry said. "They couldn't even agree on one arrangement."

"The chrysanthemums are from Romano."

Kerry snorted. "You're kidding, right?"

Kim raised an eyebrow. "Do you think I would kid about Romano?"

"They look like hell. Did somebody drop them?"

Kim examined her nails. "Actually, I did. On your front steps. Twice."

"On purpose?"

"Oh no," Kim said. "Completely by accident. Although as a psychiatrist I feel compelled to point out the rather obvious psychological undertones in that situation."

"Uh hunh," Kerry said. "What about those roses over there? They're beautiful."

"Those are from Carter," Kim said as she got up and crossed the room. "And so is this." She lifted a large basket that was filled to overflowing with fruit, cheese, smoked sausages, pate, pickled artichoke hearts, a bottle of champagne and a number of other items. She brought it over for Kerry to look at. "The card said, 'Dr. Weaver, save the champagne for last, Carter.'"

Kerry ran her fingers over everything and Kim thought she saw a swell of tears in her eyes.

She put the basket back and then stuck her hands in the back pockets of her shorts. "Listen, Ker, I hate to be the warden, but it's been a while since we drained your catheter."

"Yeah, about that," Kerry said and Kim saw it coming.

"No," Kim said. "We had a deal."

"But it's ridiculous. You can just put me in the chair and I can manage in the bathroom myself."

"No. Anspaugh said you are not to get out of that bed for three solid days, minimum. Count down the hours if you like. You can be on the catheter or on a bedpan, I don't care which, but you're not getting out of that bed."

"Do you treat your patients this way?" Kerry asked.

"Only when they're wrong and being stubborn about it," Kim said. "I'll go get a fresh nightgown for you then we'll empty it. Is there any nightgown in particular that you'd like?"

Kerry sighed and sunk into the pillows. For a second, Kim saw the depth of the sadness that was there and she lost her breath. And nearly her resolve.

"It doesn't matter," Kerry said. "They're all pretty much the same."

"Okay," Kim said and she headed for the stairs.

God this was going to be a long day.

Kim checked the level in the catheter bag, then drained it. She had a feeling Anspaugh was going to call and demand a status report and she intended to give a detailed one. She wasn't going to let him muscle Kerry back into the hospital on a technicality when Kerry so clearly wanted to be at home.

Kerry was subdued and curiously silent while Kim helped her to sit up and slip off her sweater and nightgown. She sat there on the edge of the bed, naked and exposed, slightly hunched as if she was trying to hide at least some part of herself from Kim.

Kim had to smother a gasp when she saw Kerry's bruises. Her biceps, her forearms, her legs, her torso...every part of her seemed to be covered with furious purple and black bruises. The enormity of what Kerry had suffered hit her anew and made her chest tighten. She couldn't let Kerry see this so she slammed her best clinical face into place and tossed the old nightgown aside. The clean nightgown was a comfortable lived-in old flannel one and she carefully slipped it over Kerry's head and arms. She settled her back into place, fixed her pillows and covered her up. Kerry's face was without expression.

Kim glanced at her watch. "It's almost time for your next dose of Percocet. Would you like me to get it?"

Kerry shook her head.

"Are you sure?" Kim asked. "You've hardly taken any. You're well under the maximum dose."

"No, that's fine," Kerry said and Kim had that sudden feeling that she was alone in the room again.

"All right," she said. "Well, I'll let you rest. I'll be in the next room if you want anything, okay? Just holler."

There was no reply

Kim waited a few seconds and then quietly left.

Six o'clock found Kim sitting at the kitchen table, where she'd been all afternoon, labouring over the same paragraph she'd started at two. Her thoughts were scattered and confused. Her mind bounced around like some sugared-up little kid from work, to Kerry, to what Luka had said, through the past six months and usually back to Kerry again. When she saw the time, she sighed, tossed her pen on the heap of work she'd spread all over the table and decided she should rustle up some dinner.

She found her way around Kerry's kitchen easily. Every pan, every spatula, every bowl was exactly where she knew it would be and that cozy almost home feeling enveloped her again.

She chopped a green pepper into chunks, then some mushrooms and a pair of scallions. She'd cooked quite a few meals here, some with Kerry and some alone, trying to time the completion of the latter with Kerry's unpredictable time of arrival from work. Usually they'd eat in the dining room with the lights low and candles lit, a sultry John Coltrane CD playing in the background. By the end of the meal they were sated by the food but so hungry for each other that the foreplay started while they were clearing dishes. She smiled at the memory of one truly remarkable night when they hadn't made it to Kerry's bedroom at all.

But that was then.

She beat some eggs, grated some cheese and within fifteen minutes, she was placing two steaming fluffy omelets onto plates. She put Kerry's plate on a bed tray, with cutlery, a napkin and a big glass of milk then carefully maneuvered her way into the living room.

"Here you go," Kim said, settling the tray around Kerry's legs. "I'll bring you your antibiotics and your anti-inflammatories in a minute. Is there anything else you want?"

Kerry shook her head. "No, this is fine, thanks."

Kim returned to the kitchen where she counted out the pills and grabbed her own plate and glass. By then, Kerry was nibbling at the edge of her omelet. "It's good," she said.

"Great," Kim said, handing Kerry the small pile of pills. "I'm glad you like it."

She plopped down into the chair beside Kerry's bed and balanced her plate on her knees. Suddenly, she felt Kerry's eyes on her. She looked up.

"What?" she said.

Kerry looked away. "No, it's nothing, never mind."

"No, Kerry, what is it? What were you going to say?"

Kerry steeled herself. "I think I need a little more time alone."

"Alone?" Kim repeated.

Kerry nodded.

"Like, right now?" Kim asked, eyes wide.

Another nod.

"Oh," Kim said and she glanced down at her plate. "So, you'd like me to leave you alone?"

"If you don't mind," Kerry said and there was no expression on her face.

Kim took a deep breath. "All right. If that's what you'd like." She picked up her plate, grabbed her glass and headed for the kitchen. "Call if you need anything," she said over her shoulder.

She plunked her plate down on the table and then looked at her milk for a long moment. With a little shake of her head, she put the glass back in the fridge and grabbed the bottle of white wine from the door. She poured a large glass and sat down to eat her dinner.

She ate, mechanically forking pieces of egg and cheese into her mouth and chewing, tasting nothing, staring into the middle distance, thinking.

She was not going to let herself get pushed away this easily.

She listened to Charlie Parker and his pals jamming softly while she did the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen. When she returned to the living room, Kerry was staring into the retreating darkness.

"Hey," Kim said, leaning on the bed, "you know a bath might make you feel better."

Kerry rolled her head to look at her. "The tub is upstairs."

"I didn't mean a tub bath. I meant a sponge bath," Kim said. "I was thinking I could bring a basin and we could wash your hair, too if you wanted." She reached out a hand to touch the disheveled red tresses and Kerry drew away slightly.

"I'm fine," Kerry said.

Kim pulled together a calm tone. "Ker, it's really no trouble and I think it would make you feel better."

"I'm too tired for it tonight," Kerry said. "In fact, I was thinking of turning in soon."

Kim nodded and bit her lip. "Are you sure you don't want to have just a little wash?"

Kerry shook her head. "If you'd just get me my pain killers, I'd be fine."

Kim reluctantly fetched the pills and some water, then stood there watching while Kerry took them. She did look exhausted, Kim thought. Maybe a good sleep was what she needed.

She turned off the lights in the living room then wished her a good night.

Kerry mumbled a reply and Kim paused at the door, Kerry's name on her lips, suddenly wanting to cry. She stayed there for a while, then went to make up her bed.

Kerry lay in the darkness, listening to the thunderstorm that was pounding the heavens. She'd slept for a few hours but now the Percocet had worn off and her leg was aching viciously. She doubted sleep was going to come again before dawn, not without some chemical help and she was damned if she was going to call for Kim. So she lay there listening to thunder and trying not to think about the pain.

This had turned out to be even worse than she'd thought it would, stuck here in such close quarters, having to hear the sound of her voice and listen to the rhythm of her footsteps all day. Worst of all was that every time Kerry so much as glanced at her, all she could see was the look that Kim had given her when she'd spotted her in the hallway, a hundred years ago. Was it contempt? Disgust? Impatience? Maybe some combination of all of those.

To have her here now, acting like this, like she actually cared whether Kerry lived or died. It made her sick with embarrassment.

Somewhere nearby, in an adjacent room, there was a rustle of covers and a tiny whimper. Kerry held her breath and listened past the sound of pelting rain. The whimper again and mumbled words. Fear and hurt and panic. Kim was having a nightmare.

Kerry remembered a particularly bad one she'd had, one of the first nights they'd been together. She had woken Kerry with her tossing and her muted cries and then she had suddenly gasped and sat up, breathless. Kerry had held her, had felt Kim's heart pounding against Kerry's breasts, had stroked her head until she lay down again and went back to sleep. In the morning, neither of them had spoken of it -- Kerry wondered if Kim even remembered it.

A long roll of thunder and then a hoarse cry of fear from the other room. Kerry reflexively sat up, started to go to her, then chuckled at her own stupidity and lay back. She wasn't going far on these legs. She listened, stomach tight, for the next whimper, but none came. Instead, a whisper of blankets and then the quietest of footsteps.

Kerry watched the door to her office at the far end of the living room, saw a shadow appear there. It tiptoed silently across the room and as it passed by the sliding glass door, lightning flashed and lit the figure, spotlighting her tousled mane of hair. She was wearing a t-shirt and nothing else and Kerry watched her progress towards the kitchen. What had she ever been thinking, letting herself get involved with someone like Kim? Or more to the point, what could she have thought someone like Kim would ever see in her? Kim was so beautiful it took her breath away and even with hammering pain in her leg and this goddam catheter stuck in her, the simple sight of her walking across her living room partly naked made Kerry wet. She had been out of her league from the start and she should have known it.

"Can't sleep?" Kerry asked and Kim leaped.

"Jesus, Kerry!" she said, one hand on her chest. "You scared me half to death."

"Sorry," Kerry said.

"How long have you been awake?"

"A while."

"Need something for the pain?"

Kerry sighed. "Yeah, I guess so."

She listened to the quiet clinking of glasses in the kitchen for a while. Kim returned with two glasses and a vial of pills. She handed Kerry one glass and shook out the pills for her.

Kerry popped them in her mouth and swallowed. "What's this obsession you have with milk suddenly?"

Kim curled up in a chair and wrapped a throw from the couch around her legs. "Calcium for your leg," she said. "But I did give you chocolate this time."

Kerry shrugged and took another sip.

"So what was the nightmare about?" she asked.

The silence spoke volumes.

"How did you know I had a nightmare?"

"I heard you. And I know what your nightmares sound like."

"Yeah, I suppose you do, " Kim said.

"So? What was it about?"

Kim sipped her chocolate milk and debated lying. Finally she sighed. "It was about the other day in the hallway. When you were attacked."

"Oh."

"A little post-traumatic stress, probably. I wouldn't be surprised if you had some aftershocks, too."

Kerry looked into the darkness and was silent. Lightning lit the room suddenly making everything look flat and lifeless.

After a while, Kim said, "I don't know if this is the best time, but I think we need to talk."

"Yes, I think we do, too."

Kim sat up a little. "You do?"

"Yes. I think it's time I make myself clear. I really don't need anyone taking care of me."

"Trust me, Ker, you've been making that point more than clear for a couple of days now."

"All right, then you can leave in the morning."

Kim put her glass down and sat straight up. "Pardon?"

"I have a broken leg, I'm not a quadriplegic. This is ridiculous. Everyone's overreacting."

"Kerry, listen to me. They had to put your leg back together like Humpty Dumpty. You cannot put any weight on it for several more weeks, not to mention the threat of swelling and infection. You're so frail and battered that I doubt you could get yourself into that wheelchair on your own, let alone lift yourself onto the toilet without help. Your clothes and the bathtub are upstairs, you can't go get your prescriptions and since changing your nightgown exhausts you, I seriously doubt you're going to be able to cook. On top of that, and remember I am speaking professionally now, you're still in shock, you're in pain and I'd bet my next two paychecks that you're starting to slide into a depression. Now what part of that do you think is an over reaction?"

Kerry glared at her in the darkness and Kim could actually feel it. "Are you through?" Kerry asked.

Kim sank back into her chair, blowing out a frustrated breath. "For now."

"All right. None of you know what you're talking about, not you, not Anspaugh, not Luka. I am not an idiot. I know how to treat this leg, I know how to dose myself and I know how to drain and change a catheter, not that I need one. You're all gravely underestimating me. I've coped with much worse than this for most of my life. I don't need your help."

Kim rubbed her forehead wearily and wished there was something else in this milk besides chocolate syrup. She took a long breath and let it out slowly.

"Kerry," she said, her voice as soft and unthreatening as she could make it with her heart hammering in her chest, "it's not such a terrible thing to need some help."

"All I need is to be left alone," Kerry said.

"Kerry, come on --"

"Kim, I appreciate that you see things differently, but it's my leg, my life, my responsibility. I'd like you to leave in the morning."

Kim sat there in the darkness, mouth open.

"You're not serious," she said when she finally located her voice.

"I am serious," Kerry replied. "I just want to be by myself."

Kim shook her head in disbelief. "Do you really hate me that much Kerry?" she asked.

"I don't hate you."

"Could've fooled me."

"This isn't about you. I just want to be alone right now."

"What about Luka or Abby? Or maybe Carter?" Kim said. "If you don't want me around, maybe one of them could drop in on you, spend the night..."

Kerry shook her head vehemently. "No. I can manage. I'll be fine."

Kim threw up her hands. "Fine. If that's what you want, then fine," she said. "Cause I can't fight with you anymore and I sure as hell can't stand around and watch you do this to yourself because, although you might not want to hear this right now, Kerry, I do care about you."

She grabbed her glass and strode through the living room shadows to Kerry's den, where she'd made her bed.

Kerry watched her go, watched the light from outside cast shadows down her long naked legs and hated herself.

Kim lay on her sofa, a pillow scrunched under her head and Stephen King's latest hardcover in her hands. She was staring at page 57 and had been doing so for over an hour now. She couldn't seem to stay focused quite long enough to get to page 58.

Most of the day had been that way. When she'd gotten home that morning, she'd embarked on a furious round of housecleaning, scrubbing surfaces and restoring order to books, mail, bills and cupboards. It had taken her twice as long as usual to complete each task, because usually partway through, she found herself involved in some passionate internal debate, sometimes with Kerry, sometimes with her own better nature. Then she'd suddenly realize that she was standing in the bathroom with rubber gloves and a toilet brush, talking to herself and she'd give herself a mental shake and hunker down to work again.

And so it went.

By suppertime, she'd picked up the phone a dozen times -- to call Anspaugh, to call Luka, even to call Kerry although she was pretty sure that Kerry didn't really want to talk to her.

She knew she shouldn't have left her alone but even after a daylong argument with herself, she hadn't been able to come up with any alternatives. Kerry was, after all, a grown up (present behaviour excepted, she thought) and she had a right to make decisions for herself, even if they were stupid, self-destructive decisions. And there was not a single thing Kim could do about it.

She tackled page 57 again, convinced that this was the time she was going to get through it.

She was asleep in ten minutes.

It was well after midnight when the phone rang. Kim sat up quickly, dropping her book with a heavy thud. She glanced around frantically for the phone, disoriented from sleep and fatigue, finally found it on the coffee table under the newspaper.

"Hello?"

A strange silence, punctuated by gasps and quiet noises.

"Hello!" Kim said again. "Who is this?"

A sob echoed in Kim's ear and even through miles of fiber optic cables, she recognized the voice.

"Kerry?" she said and she was on her feet, pacing. "Kerry, is that you? What's the matter, babe?"

Uncontrollable crying on the other end. Kim's stomach seized. "Kerry, I need you to talk to me. What happened? Are you all right?"

Laboured breathing and strangled sobs. "I -- I -- fell."

Kim's heart leaped into her mouth. "Oh God," she said. "Oh God. I'll be right there. Don't move. Don't do anything."

She threw down the phone and raced to her front door, jammed her feet into a pair of sneakers, grabbed her keys and flew out the door.

Section Two

She saw her the moment she was inside.

Kerry was sitting on the kitchen floor, half slumped against the big island in the center of the room, the phone set strewn across the floor nearby. She was hugging her sore ribs and taking heaving breaths. Kim sprinted the few yards between then and dropped to her knees.

"Oh, God, you're bleeding," she said, cradling Kerry's head in her hands. The gauze that covered the stitches on her forehead was stained with blood and a thin crimson trickle has escaped from under it, weaving its way down the side of her face, where it had dried some time ago.

"I hit my head when I fell, I think I opened the stitches," Kerry said and she started to cry again. She turned towards Kim and burrowed her way into the woman's arms. Kim held her tightly, dropping kisses on top of her head, until the sobs let up. Kerry struggled to sit up again, still shaking violently.

"Kerry, tell me what happened. Are you hurt?" Kim asked and she palpated Kerry's head, neck and shoulders, looking for signs of injury.

"I got out of bed and into the chair this afternoon. I was going to go to the bathroom to take out that damn catheter," she said. She steadied herself with a long breath. "I came to the kitchen first to get more water from the fridge because I'd drunk everything you left out for me."

Kim listened attentively as she checked Kerry's arms and wrists and then started feeling the bones in her legs. "What happened?"

"I sort of stood up on one leg but I lost my balance -- it's my bad leg and I'm kind of weak I guess and I don't know how it happened but the chair flipped over and took me with it. That's when I hit my head."

Kim examined her cast for cracks, and then glanced over to the fridge. Her chair was still there, on it's side, holding the fridge door open. Around it was a large puddle of urine.

"I tried and tried for hours to get back into it, but I couldn't, I just kept knocking the chair over," Kerry continued, still trying to strangle her sobs. "And then the catheter bag came loose and I couldn't get to the bathroom...I'm so sorry, Kim. I didn't want you to see me like this..."

"Shhh, it's all right. Don't think about that," Kim said, rubbing Kerry's arm tenderly. "How are your ribs?"

"They're sore, but no more than usual. I don't think I broke any others."

"You need an x-ray, Ker. You could've punctured a lung."

"No," Kerry said and she grabbed Kim's shirt. "No, please. Don't take me to the ER. Not like this."

"Kerry, it could affect your breathing."

"You can listen to my lungs," Kerry said. "My medical bag is in the closet by the front door. You can listen to them and then you'll see they're okay."

Kim's forehead was creased with indecision. "All right," she said finally, "but I swear, if I hear so much as a wheeze, I'm taking you in."

Kerry nodded.

"When did this happen?" Kim asked.

"This afternoon sometime, I don't know when exactly."

Kim didn't have to look at her watch to know that it was at least one a.m., if not later. This poor woman had been laying in a pool of her own urine for somewhere close to twelve hours. God, stubborn, much? She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself.

"Okay," Kim said, "the first thing we need to do is get you up off this floor and into bed. And then I think you could probably do with some painkillers."

Kerry nodded miserably. "I must've given my cast a jolt when I fell because it's very sore."

'Very sore,' Kim thought as she moved across the kitchen, taking care not to tread in puddles of urine. From Kerry that meant, 'Hold the Percocet, where the hell's the morphine?'

Kim righted the chair and wheeled it over to where Kerry was slumped, trembling and crying. Kim hesitated then sat down beside her again and took her in her arms.

"It's all right," Kim said, rubbing one hand up and down her shaking back. "I'm here and we're gonna take care of this."

"I didn't want you to see me like this," Kerry sobbed, hiding her face against Kim's shirt. "I'm so sorry for what I said yesterday. I know I've been awful. It's just that it's so confusing to be around you again."

Kim rocked her gently, rhythmically stroking her back. "Shhh, Ker. It's okay. I know."

"I just --" she struggled out of Kim's arms to look at her. "I'm just so confused, Kim. A week ago you could hardly talk to me and now..." She waved a trembling hand at the chaos in the kitchen. "Now you're here and you're taking care of me like nothing had ever changed between us."

Kim nodded sadly. "I know. And you're right. It must make you wonder about my motivation." She gingerly turned Kerry around so that she could recline into her arms and then she pulled her close to her and began rocking her again.

"I was angry, Ker. I felt so betrayed when you didn't stand up for me."

"I know, Kim and I will always be sorry that I did that to you. I was such a coward."

"It's not important, anymore," Kim said, and she smoothed Kerry's bangs back off the stained gauze. "And I realize that now. I realized it the moment before that man attacked you. Here I thought I was all conflicted over you, you know? And I had tried to talk myself out of being in love with you. But he laid his hands on you and suddenly I realized that I was making everything too complicated. It was all very simple. In that split-second, I realized that nothing mattered but you." She caressed Kerry's one unblemished cheek. "Watching that happen to you and not being able to do anything was the most horrible thing that I've ever experienced. I thought he was going to kill you and I nearly went out of my mind."

Kerry watched her as she talked, felt some of the fear and shock draining from her body.

Kim manufactured a smile. "You're a hell of a lot of work, Weaver, but I love you anyway."

Kerry winced. "Kim, I don't know if --"

Kim laid a gentle finger on Kerry's lips. "I know. This isn't the time. You're hurt and in pain and you must be very confused right now. We don't have to decide anything now... we don't even have to talk about it just yet. I just needed you to know how I felt. That I was not here in some misplaced gesture of guilt or something. I'm here because I really want to be here. You need someone to take care of you and I want it to be me."

Kerry squeezed her eyes shut. "I hate this. I hate being so --"

"Vulnerable?"

She nodded.

"I know you do. But the reality is that you're just human, like the rest of us, Ker. No more, no less. Sometimes everybody needs a little support. So please let me help, okay?"

A long pause and Kim held her breath. Then Kerry nodded.

"And I'll try not to be quite so ...fascist," Kim said with a tiny smile.

"I can't stand the catheter anymore Kim," Kerry said and Kim thought she saw fear in her eyes. "Please take it out."

Kim nodded. "We'll do that when we wash you up, okay? And I'm pretty sure I can lift you back and forth to the toilet, so you can take care of yourself in the bathroom, how does that sound?"

Kerry smiled a little and for the second time that night, Kim's heart skipped a beat.

"All right," Kim said, helping Kerry to sit up. "Let's get you cleaned up."

Kim wrung out the facecloth and tenderly washed Kerry's back.

"Too hot?" she asked.

"Mmmm, no. It feels good." Kerry's voice sounded slack and relaxed. Kim glanced at her watch. Twenty minutes since she'd taken her painkillers. Good, they were starting to work. They'd washed her hair and found a clean nightgown, so now all that was left was a little bath.

She dragged the soapy cloth across Kerry's shoulders and neck, followed the curve of her spine down to the deep hollow above her buttocks, then rinsed the cloth out and wiped the same path again, slowly, deliberately.

She hadn't realized how much she'd missed Kerry's body until she'd shed her soiled nightgown and stretched out on the hospital bed. Their first somewhat clumsy fumblings together had quickly given way to long languid hours in bed as Kim explored every dip and curve of this soft and powerful body. All those months working beside her in the ER, she'd wondered what exactly lay beneath the billowing lab coat and the conservative blouses. And then that first night, Kim had undressed her and had thoroughly kissed every inch of skin she could, nibbling and caressing her belly, her shoulders, her breasts. She had lain there afterwards, holding Kerry in her arms, in awe of what she had uncovered. She had been totally and irretrievably lost from that moment on.

She toweled off Kerry's torso. "Okay, next side, please," she said and she helped Kerry turn over. She covered her from the hips up with another sheet, and turned her attention to washing her legs.

The incredible thing was that it seemed that Kerry had no idea how beautiful she was. Either that or she was determined to hide it because she acted oblivious to it, as if she sincerely believed she was awkward and unattractive. She wondered what a lifetime of limping and coping with a crutch had done to plant that last thought.

She checked the toes on Kerry's broken leg for colour. A little dusky, probably from swelling in the cast. They'd have to ice it when she finished.

She soaped up the facecloth again and then paused.

"Um, Kerry?" she asked. "Here's the facecloth, so you can wash your, uh..." Kim's mind searched for the right word. Pubes? Too clinical. Groin? Too athletic. Crotch? God, no.

Kerry opened her eyes. "Kim I'm so sore from everything, I honestly don't think I could bend enough to wash anything myself. Would you mind?"

"Uh, sure, I can do it." She summoned up a clinical detachment that didn't quite catch, and started with the inside of Kerry's thighs. She refreshed the cloth and tenderly scrubbed her pubic mound. A few gentle swipes at hidden parts, a quick rinse and she was ready for the towel. It was then that Kim realized she'd been holding her breath.

Oh well. She was entitled. It had been a long day.

She rearranged the sheets again, leaving Kerry's torso exposed and covering her legs and hips for warmth. More deliberate, soothing strokes across her stomach and her breasts with the hot facecloth and she could see Kerry physically relaxing.

It was probably not very widely known, Kim thought as she worked, how very much Kerry Weaver loved to have her belly kissed. Way down at the bottom of her belly, below the navel where the gentle curve bottoms out, there was this one particular spot that sent her into spasms of ecstacy. Kim rinsed the soap off and smiled to herself. She wondered if anyone else had ever discovered that spot and what exactly her ER colleagues would make of that fact. Now that would be a memo to remember.

She supported Kerry's arm against her hip while she washed it and had a sudden, unbidden recollection of being in bed with Kerry, naked, limbs intertwined. There were candles in the bedroom and Kim could see the snow falling through her bedroom window. Kerry, her cheeks flushed with arousal, had straddled her, near her waist, pressing her hot, moist center into Kim's belly. She sat there for a long time, pinning Kim to the bed, slowly grinding her hips while pushing Kim into a frenzy by caressing her breasts and gently tweaking her nipples.

It had been the look on her face that had made Kim pause. Hair damp from exertion, mouth slack with need, her jade-flecked eyes half-lidded, Kerry had literally glowed from within, had looked utterly radiant. Kim smiled again. That had been the first time that she'd made the very disciplined and starched Dr. Weaver howl when she came. Kim had also seen to it that it had not been the last time, either.

"What are you thinking?" Kerry asked sleepily.

Kim rinsed off her arm, drawing the cloth lightly across the bruises. "I'm thinking how glad I am that you called me."

Kerry watched her slyly for another moment. "Liar," she said.

Kim chuckled and washed the other arm.

"Really, what were you thinking?"

"Really?"

Kerry nodded, her tired eyes trained on Kim's face.

I was thinking about how incredibly beautiful you looked when we made love.

She faltered

"Really, I was thinking that I'm grateful you called me." She wrung out the facecloth. "Okay, let me just get your nightgown and then I'll check to see if the soup is hot."

Kerry watched her head to the kitchen, the basin of water on her hip, and wondered what Kim had really been thinking about.

The clock alarm read 5:53 a.m. when the phone rang the next morning. Kerry had been awake for a little while and was really starting to feel the effects of yesterday's disastrous trip to the kitchen. She ached everywhere, shoulders, back, legs, but nowhere as much as where they had mended her splintered bones. It was a dull, pervasive, pounding pain that didn't seem to let up. It was definitely time for more Percocet. And of course, she had to pee, but Kim had only gotten to bed around three after she had finished cleaning up the kitchen floor, so another half hour's sleep was the least Kerry could do for her. The Percocet and bathroom could wait.

Of course the phone had changed all that. Three rings, a thump and a muffled curse, followed by Kim's voice, still husky with sleep.

"Hello?.... Yes, this is Dr. Weaver's residence..."

Kerry had known then that it was starting for the day. Yesterday, there had been twelve phone calls for her from the hospital, by noon. After that, she'd yanked the phone out of the wall. Let 'em deal with it themselves.

"No...No, she's not. Don't you know what time it is?"

Kerry smiled a little at the sound of Kim's voice. When she knew she was right, she didn't take any crap from anyone. Not even her.

"Then I suggest you contact the Acting Chief of Emergency Medicine...Oh really? Well, that sounds like something you should take up with Dr. Romano. I'll be he's at home. Good bye."

Kerry heard the phone hit the desk and winced. But then, that was one less problem she would have to deal with.

She heard rustling from the den and then Kim appeared in her trademark sleepwear -- t-shirt and nothing else -- with a pale blue blanket wrapped around her. She peeked to see if Kerry was awake. Kerry gave a little wave. "Was that for me?"

"Christ, what is the matter with people?" Kim asked, trudging across the living room, blanket ends trailing behind her. "That was someone from finance who wanted to know if you could get him your budget projections for the fiscal year 2005 by this afternoon. I figured it could wait."

"It was like that most of the day yesterday."

"You're kidding."

"No," Kerry said. "Apparently I'm much more crucial to the operation of Cook County General than my paycheck would suggest."

"Well, that's going to stop. You need rest."

Kerry took in the tangled mane of hair, the slitty eyes and the dark circles. "Did you sleep at all?"

"No. Well, some. That couch isn't the greatest."

"You should sleep upstairs in my bedroom. You'd be more comfortable."

Kim was shaking her head even before Kerry finished. "No, I wouldn't be able to hear you from there," she said. Well, that and the fact that it would break my heart to sleep there without you, she thought. "How are you feeling?"

Kerry took a deep breath. "I'm sore." She lowered her voice apologetically. "And I need to go to the bathroom."

"Kerry, you should've woken me earlier," Kim said.

"You'd hardly gotten any sleep."

Kim waved her words away. "Let me just get some clothes on." She went back to the den and grabbed her clothes from where she'd flung them a few hours ago when she'd laid down. She had one leg in her jeans when the phone rang again.

"Oh for Christ's sake," she muttered.

Mid-afternoon and Kim poked her head into the living room.

"That was the physiotherapist," she said. "She told me about the exercises that you should be doing and she said that it was important that you start soon. I saw you had some weights in the closet -- do you want to do a little bit today?"

Kerry sighed and Kim noted the defeated expression. "Kim, I just can't. I'm sorry, but I just can't. Tomorrow maybe?"

Kim nodded. "Sure, no pressure." She'd learned a little something about dealing with Kerry the patient in the past few days. "I'll leave you alone to rest." She started to go.

"What are you doing?" Kerry asked suddenly.

"I'm working on that research paper I told you about."

"Oh."

A pause and Kim searched Kerry's face.

"Do you want me to get you a book, or maybe a journal? One came in the mail for you this morning."

"No, that's okay."

Kim waited. "Okay. Well, I'll get to work then. Shout if you need anything."

"Kim?"

"Yes?"

"Why don't you come and -- I mean, if you wanted to, you could work in here."

The smile grew by degrees until Kim positively beamed. "That would be nice. I'll get my stuff."

The phone rang without pause all afternoon and through dinner. Every so often, Kim had taken to picking it up, saying, "Dr. Weaver is not taking calls!" and slamming the receiver back down.

"Maybe I should take some of those calls," Kerry said, as they dawdled over their salads at dinner. "Some of them might be important."

Kim put down her fork and pinned her with a look. "They will cope without you, Kerry and if they can't, then they'll realize how much you do around that place."

Kerry sighed and picked at her dinner, one protective arm wrapped around her sore side. "We could just put the answering machine on," she suggested.

Kim stabbed a forkful of salad. "The phone still rings," she said in a tone that left little doubt as to how much she enjoyed the electronic trill she'd been hearing all day.

"Do you want to just unplug it?"

Kim shook her head as she chewed. "I hate to do that," she said. "Because someone besides maintenance or accounting or payroll may want to reach us."

They ate in silence for a while.

"You know, I've owned this house for four years and I don't think I've ever spent this much time in the living room," Kerry said, glancing around at the pale walls. "I've never noticed how few windows there are in here."

Kim nodded and sipped her wine. "Yeah, it's not very airy, is it?" She watched Kerry moving lettuce around with her fork. "Hey, Ker, are you okay? You've seemed pretty down today."

Kerry glanced at her, then shrugged. "I suppose it's normal, after an injury," she said. "I just ... well, I guess I just feel kind of discouraged. This stupid leg and my eye..." She ran her fingertips across the swollen orb, which could now open a crack. "I should be grateful," she said. "I know it could have been worse."

Kim listened intently, then pushed her dinner aside to move closer to Kerry. "Listen to me. Right now, it doesn't matter that it could have been worse. What matters is that you were attacked and badly beaten, Kerry. You have serious injuries and a long recovery ahead of you and you can't just sublimate everything and 'decide' to be okay with it. It doesn't work like that." She smiled sympathetically and ran a hand through Kerry's fiery hair. "It's hard as hell but that's the way it is."

Kerry sat there, reveling in Kim's touch. She allowed the tiniest smile. "Oh, God," she said in a strangled voice, "What have I done? I'm living with a psychiatrist!"

Kim laughed out loud.

Kerry pushed her way up out of the heavy mist of Percocet induced sleep to find trees rushing by the window at high speed. A moment of blinding disorientation and then the world snapped back into place when she realized she had been sleeping in a cozy nest of blankets and pillows in the back seat of Kim's pristine Jetta. Her broken limb was propped up high and there was a huge Ziploc bag of ice cubes draped over the cast to help fight the swelling that had been creeping up on her. She was laid out across the seat and actually found it remarkably comfortable. Witness the marvels of German engineering, she thought.

From where she was propped, she could see Kim's profile as she drove and Kerry just lay there for a while, gazing at her and trying to shake off the fog of sleep. She still wasn't sure if this was such a good idea but then since she was unable to make a decision as simple as what to eat next off her plate at dinner, Kerry wondered if she was really the best judge of anything right now.

Yesterday, Kim had come into the living room sometime before noon with all the necessary implements for a sponge bath.

"Hey, I want to bounce an idea off you," she said, laying down the basin of hot water on the coffee table. "I just got off the phone with a friend from college, Rachel Greer. She works in Washington as some sort of advisor to a senator." She helped Kerry to sit up and then to take off her nightgown. "Anyway," Kim said, "she built this summer house up on the eastern shore of Lake Michigan a few years ago. It's on this huge piece of beachfront property, out in the middle of nowhere, between two very small towns."

She slung an arm around Kerry's neck and helped lower her to the bed. "She says that we can have it for as long as we want."

"She's not using it?" Kerry asked and she could hear Kim wringing out the face cloth.

"Nope," Kim said. "She's trapped in DC for the whole summer working on some bill. Which isn't surprising. Rachel's career always was her single priority."

Kerry felt her muscles relaxing as the hot cloth moved back and forth across her body.

"I've only been there once, but as I remember, it's a fabulous place. A huge kitchen, hand-painted Italian tile floors, three big bedrooms, two full baths, one of which has a sauna, and get this...it's all on one floor."

Kerry struggled to look at Kim. "Why is that important?"

"Because you would have full access to the house in your chair or on crutches. And we could get you into the bathtub."

Kerry's eyebrows shot up. All the hand-painted tiles in the world suddenly paled compared to the notion of an hour's soak in a real bathtub.

"This place sounds like a palace," Kerry said, still looking for the catch. "She had this built and never uses it?"

Kim wrung out the cloth and rinsed Kerry's buttocks and the back of her legs.

"Yes, well, that's vintage Rachel. Money's not an object. She wasn't just born with a silver spoon in her mouth. I think there may have been a full place setting."

Kerry chuckled. "So you just phoned her up and said, hey, can I have your beach house?"

"I was a little more subtle than that," Kim said. "Although not much. Rachel kind of owes me and I knew she'd be happy to give us the place."

"She kind of owes you?" Kerry said. "I'd like to hear about that sometime."

"Well you'll have to wait, because I like to be just a little drunk when I tell that one."

Kerry nodded. "I look forward to it, then."

"So, what do you think?" Kim said. Maybe a change of scene might be good, you know, get out someplace with a great view, more windows and fresh air?"

Kerry tried to figure out what she thought and kept coming back to one unavoidable truth --it just didn't matter. She didn't care one way or the other because no matter what they decided, tomorrow morning the sun would come up and she would still have this cast, this pain and the inescapable feeling that she'd been used as a punching bag.

"Sounds great," she said, and she tried to summon up the image of the bathtub again.

Luka had obligingly dropped by to cart Kerry back down the steps and deposit her in the pillow-lined back seat. He'd helped Kim pack the trunk and then they'd driven him to the hospital to drop him off for his shift. Ten minutes later, they were off, leaving the city behind in its envelope of early summer humidity and smog.

Kerry scanned the landscape outside the car for signs that they might be near civilization. There were none. She figured that she'd slept for at least two hours, so they must be getting close to their destination by now. She watched the trees and fields passing by -- it was so green and lush here -- and then she turned her gaze on Kim again, tracing the graceful curve of her neck with her eyes. Kim had haphazardly swept her curls up and tied them there this morning and Kerry was astounded that it could look so good. A strong urge to lean forward and touch her hair gripped her and she had to push it back down.

There was something playing on the CD player that caught Kerry's attention. It sounded familiar to her. A piano and two women whose voices sounded like they were dancing with each other. She cocked her head and tried to hear the words.

"...rather you be mean, than love and lie,

I'd rather hear the truth and have to say goodbye,

I'd rather take a blow, at least then I would know,

But baby don't you break my heart slow..."

Kim reached forward suddenly and abruptly snapped the CD player off. Kerry glanced over at her, saw the tension in her shoulders.

She waited a beat. "You don't like that CD?" Kerry asked.

Kim glanced over her shoulder. "I didn't know you were awake. How are you doing back there?"

"I'm fine," she said. "Just a little thirsty. Is there more water?"

Kim handed back another bottle of water. Kerry cracked the cap and drank.

"So," Kerry said. "How much longer?"

"Less than an hour, I'd say. How are you holding up? Do you want to stop?"

"No, I can make it the rest of the way." She caught a glimpse of sand and water through some pines. God, she hoped this was a good idea. "Kim, are you certain that it's not a problem for you to away from work for so long?"

Kim wore sunglasses but Kerry got the distinct feeling that she was rolling her eyes at the question just the same.

"We've been over this already. Between the six weeks of vacation time I'm owed and the time that Carl negotiated for me, I'm probably not going to work a shift before Labour Day." She chuckled. "Carl said the ink wasn't even dry on his request for paid leave for me when Romano's office phoned to say that it had been approved."

Kerry smiled. "Good. You could use the time off, too."

"And I've got that research study to write up, plus that offer for a chapter in that textbook on ER psych assessment models," Kim said. "Which is great because I think, given the year I've had, it's particularly important to publish something to try to cement my position a bit."

Kerry nodded and watched road signs whisk by the window, and made a conscious effort to stop asking herself why in the world Kim was doing this.

They pulled into a long gravel driveway just as an older man in jeans and a work shirt was stepping away from the front door of the house and heading for the big red pick up truck that was parked in the drive. He spotted the navy blue Jetta and veered over to meet them.

"Welcome!" he said when Kim turned off the car and opened her door. "You must be Kim," he said, extending a very tanned hand in Kim's direction. "I'm Roger Fairbanks. I take care of the place for Rachel. She called and told us to expect you." He had an easy open face and soft brown eyes.

"Hi, Roger," Kim said. "That's my friend Kerry back there." She motioned to her backseat passenger. Roger bent down to look in and tipped his cap and smiled. "Pleasure to meet you, Kerry." Kerry gave him a half-hearted wave and noted that he had not so much as flinched when he'd seen her face. Definitely a gentleman.

"Well, listen, let's get you and your things inside," Roger said. He followed Kim around to the trunk. "The missus and I came over last night to open the place up and all. We made up the beds and got everything turned on and working, so you shouldn't have any problems." He pulled the heaviest bags from the trunk and set them down on the driveway. "Now would you like me to give you a hand getting your friend inside?"

Kim smiled and shook her head. "Thanks, we'll manage."

Roger nodded, hefted four bags and set off for the house.

Kim unfolded Kerry's wheelchair and then helped her slide out of the backseat and down into the chair. She could feel the tension in Kerry's body as she lowered her into the chair.

"Ker, are you okay?" she asked as she secured the leg support that would keep Kerry's cast elevated.

Kerry rubbed her forehead and Kim thought she could see a slight tremor in her hand.

"I'm fine," Kerry said. "My leg is just...sore."

Kim nodded, her lips drawn into a thin line. "All right, let me just get you inside and I'll unpack your painkillers."

They slowly made their way up the driveway to the huge, sprawling house.

Kim had been right -- it was spectacular. The entire front wall of the living room was glass: huge floor to ceiling windows and French doors that left you with the impression that you were outside, on the beach. Lake Michigan sparkled in the mid-day sun less than fifty yards away. Kim opened two of the doors that led to the deck and Kerry thought she'd never smelled anything so incredibly refreshing in her life.

While Kim and Roger carried in various suitcases and boxes, Kerry wheeled herself carefully around the place. A well-appointed kitchen decorated with terra cotta accents, two big bedrooms off the massive living room and a huge master bedroom with a king size bed, a desk and computer in one corner and a full sitting area with an overstuffed couch. She rolled into the master bath and peeked into the sauna, then caught sight of the huge Jacuzzi tub. She thought she might cry. To be able to soak away even a few of her aches and pains would be too wonderful for words.

She glanced at the toilet and hesitated. She had to go, but she'd better wait for Kim to give her a hand. The last thing she needed today was another daredevil flip out of this cursed chair. She propelled herself back towards the living room to find Kim.

"Okay, are you sure you're going to be all right?" Kim asked for what Kerry thought might be the sixth time.

"Kim, the town is forty minutes away," Kerry said, shading her eyes with her hand to look up at her. "You have to do drug store, grocery store, post office. You won't be gone more than two hours. How much trouble could I possibly get into in that time?"

Kim had a sudden image of Kerry's broken body lying on the floor of her kitchen, doubled over in pain. It made her stomach clench.

"I know," she said. "I just worry."

"Well, don't. I'll be fine," Kerry said, waving her hand to dismiss the tall woman.

"All right. Last chance for any special requests."

"A new right leg," Kerry said, settling back into the pillows Kim had put out on the deck chair.

"I'll see what I can do," Kim said and she kissed the top of Kerry's head before slipping back into the house.

"Kim?"

She stuck her head back out. "Yes?"

"This is really nice," Kerry said. "Thank you."

Kim smiled. "Anytime, Kerry."

Kerry heard the door slide shut and she let out a long sigh.

Roger's "missus" had sent along roast beef sandwiches, cookies, fruit and a pitcher of iced tea and after unpacking a little, they'd lunched on the deck, enthusiastically gobbling up the entire contents of the basket. Then Kim had set Kerry up in the shade in a deck chair laden with pillows. Now, with a full belly and a sufficient high serum level of oxycodone and acetaminophen, Kerry knew there was a nap not too far off.

She heard the faint sound of Kim's car starting and backing out of the driveway and she asked herself for the millionth time since they'd left this morning, if this had been a smart choice. She knew she couldn't completely take care of herself right now and she knew that Kim sincerely wanted to help, whatever her motivations. What she didn't know was how long she could keep from giving in, from letting herself start to need Kim again, like she had months ago. It had been the first time in her life that she had trusted someone so quickly and deeply and she still stung from how it had turned out. She couldn't let it happen again, couldn't let herself slide into the comfortable intimacy that Kim offered.

There was a fresh breeze blowing off the lake and she could hear the waves down at the shore. She ached everywhere and felt weak with exhaustion but she did have to admit that this beat the hell out of her living room.

Kerry remembered that Kim had kissed her before she'd left. She smiled a little.

She closed her eyes and let herself drift.

Faint footsteps on the faded wood of the deck and a then a long shadow fell across her. Kerry thought about opening her eyes.

"Hi."

She nearly jumped out of her clothes.

"Jesus!" she exclaimed and then her eyes fell on the boy standing a few feet away, watching her uncertainly. "Oh, I'm sorry...you scared me. I guess I was falling asleep."

"Sorry," the boy said and even from this far away she could see that he had the most serious eyes she had ever seen on a child. He was slight and couldn't have been more than eight. He wore no shirt and his blue and red striped shorts hung low on his small tanned hips.

"I was walking on the beach and I saw you and I thought maybe Rachel was here," he said, wide gray-blue eyes trained on her face.

Oh God, Kerry thought, I'm scaring him because I look like Frankenstein's older sister.

"You know Rachel?" Kerry asked.

He nodded, blonde cowlick bobbing up and down.

"Well, she's not actually here, but we're friends of hers and she's letting us stay here at her house for a while." She stuck out her hand. "I'm Kerry."

He crossed the distance between them and politely shook her hand. "My name is Finn," he said. "Well, actually that's my nickname but everybody calls me that. Even my teachers. Only my grandma calls me by my real name."

"Which is?"

"Francis." He made a face.

"Ah," Kerry said. "I can see why you'd prefer Finn."

He stood there a moment, his face unreadable.

"Can I ask you something?" he said.

"Sure."

"What happened to your leg?"

"I broke it," Kerry said.

He searched her face then saw that she was teasing. "I know that," he said with the slightest smile. "I mean, how did you break it?"

"I had an accident and two big men who were trying to help me kind of fell on me. Then it broke."

He nodded slowly, taking in every word.

"That's what happened to my face, too," she said. "It looks bad but it's just stitches and stuff."

He peered more carefully at her cast, while Kerry studied his profile. A full mouth, thin patrician nose and a dusting of freckles.

"Nobody signed your cast," he said. "How come? Didn't your friends want to sign it?"

"Actually, I didn't really have time to let them, before we left."

He pondered this, then met her gaze again. "Does it hurt?"

"Sometimes," she replied. "Hey, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure." He plopped himself down on the edge of a lawn chair.

"How old are you?"

"Nine and a half," he said. "I'm going to be ten in September."

Smallish for his age. But so beautiful. Kerry wondered if he got teased.

"Where do you live?" she asked.

"Well, I used to live in Chicago and during school I live in Connecticut, but right now, I live over there." He turned and pointed down the beach and Kerry could make out an enormous summer home about a half-mile away. "I'm staying with my Gran for summer vacation because my Dad has to work a lot."

"I see," Kerry said. "What about your Mom?"

"She died," he said and it was as if the sun had suddenly gone out.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Kerry said softly.

He shrugged, concentrated as a scraped knee. "She died right after Christmas last year. She had been really sad a lot and then one day, she killed herself."

Kerry's blood ran cold and she struggled to find the right words. "Wow," she said, "that sounds pretty rough."

He nodded, balancing on the edge of the chair.

"Can I ask you something else?" he said.

"Sure."

"Are you a lesbian?"

Kerry's mouth fell open. "How do you even know that word?"

He chuckled at her. "Everybody knows that word," he said.

She stared at him.

"So, are you?"

"Well, yes, actually, I am," Kerry said, "but I'm wondering why you would ask that?"

"Because Rachel is a lesbian and I figured since you were her friend, you probably were one too."

"I see." Kerry watched him swing his feet back and forth, then stop to scratch a mosquito bite. "So I guess you know what lesbian means, then."

"Oh sure. It means that you want to get married to women instead of men and that you have sex with them and stuff."

Kerry nodded. That did pretty much cover it.

"Anyway, I have to go," Finn said and he got to his feet. "I've got schoolwork to do."

"Schoolwork? Isn't it summer vacation now?"

He padded across the deck, towards the beach. "Not for me," he said. "It was nice to meet you Kerry. I hope your leg feels better."

"Nice to meet you, too, Finn," Kerry said and she shaded her eyes to watch him stride through the sand. "Hey Finn!" she called after him. He turned and looked back. "How did you get your nickname?"

"From Finn Mac Cool," he shouted back.

"Who?"

"Finn Mac Cool, " he repeated, "the Irish hero."

"I've never heard of him," Kerry said.

Finn threw up his hands in mock exasperation and then walked away shaking his sun-bleached head.

Kerry followed him with her eyes, most of the way home.

Kim arrived back, breathless, trying very hard not to let on that she was worried, only to find Kerry asleep on the front deck, her glass of ice water untouched. Kim smiled as she draped a towel over Kerry's legs where the sun had begun to touch them. She stood there a moment longer, studying the sleeping woman. The cuts on her face were healing nicely, no sign of infection -- the guy from plastics had done a good job. The swelling around her eye was greatly diminished, but the bruising remained and it looked horrible -- it was like being back in that sterile hallway with that crazy giant. The healing had started but it was going to be a while before all external traces of that day were gone.

She did look peaceful, though, stretched out in the deck chair, her face relaxed in sleep. And, Kim thought, she's safe and she's here. That's all I can ask for.

She tiptoed back into the house, to start some serious unpacking.

Tantalizing whiffs of barbeque smoke wafted past as she dug her bare toes into the cooling sand. The sunset, which was going on behind the east-facing house, was being reflected in the eastern sky in glorious oranges and golds. She took a long sip from her wine glass and congratulated herself again for finding such an excellent Shiraz in such a small town.

Kim turned and looked at Kerry. "This is great," she said.

Kerry peered up over the top of the laptop that was balanced on her thighs. "What's great?"

"This!" Kim said, spreading her arms wide to take in the house, the sand, the water, the sky.

Kerry nodded. "Yes, it is," she said, and she glanced back down at what she was reading on Kim's computer.

"I'm telling you Kerry, this place is good for the soul," Kim said.

"How many glasses of wine have you had?" Kerry called back without looking up.

"One, and I'm not going to let you bait me," Kim said. "This is exactly what we need. Exactly what you need."

"That sounds remarkably like a professional opinion."

Kim didn't reply for the longest while. Kerry finally realized it and looked up.

"I'm worried about you," Kim said.

Kerry looked at her. Kim was standing there, one hand on her perfectly sculpted hips, in a tank top that was just a little too big for her and which gave the most delightful glimpses of the black sports bra underneath. She was wearing baggy madras shorts and they somehow made her legs look even longer, even more perfectly shaped. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail and she was watching Kerry with the sweetest expression Kerry thought she had ever seen -- one part concern and three parts love, those cornflower eyes soft with sympathy.

Kerry wanted to speak, but found she couldn't.

How could I have ever doubted, she thought. How could I not be in love with this woman?

Kim ambled back to the deck checked the meat on the grill and then settled into the lawn chair beside Kerry. "I am, you know," Kim said, sipping her wine and studying Kerry's distant expression.

"I know you are," Kerry said and it was hard to look straight at her, hard to meet those searching eyes.

"You've been through a serious trauma and you've got a long recovery ahead. At some point, you've got to feel the aftereffects."

Kerry gave her a half-hearted smile.

"I just -- I want you to talk about it with me, okay? And I'm not trying to be your psychiatrist. I'm just trying to be your friend." She smiled and reached over to squeeze Kerry's hand. Kerry wanted to grab it and hold it and keep it, but she didn't.

"So what are you reading that's so darned interesting?" Kim asked, peering at the laptop screen.

"I am reading about Finn Mac Cool, legendary protector of Ireland, great warrior, seer and poet," Kerry replied scrolling down the screen.

"I didn't know you were interested in Celtic mythology," Kim said.

"I wasn't until today," Kerry said. "Here, listen to this: 'Finn, meaning fair-haired or beautiful, was the leader of the Fianna, the military elite of ancient Ireland, responsible for guarding the high king. Finn instituted a code of honour among the Fianna, imploring them to be models of chivalry and justice. Some say that it is Finn's code that was the inspiration for King Arthur's knights of the round table. The most enduring myth about Finn Mac Cool is that he did not die at all, but is only sleeping in a hidden cave, waiting to awaken and defend Ireland in her hour of need."

Kerry looked up triumphantly.

"Quite a guy, this Finn," Kim said.

"As a matter of fact, he was," Kerry said. "Although kind of small for his age and definitely too small for a warrior. But he certainly was forthright. And he did have poet's eyes, I suppose."

Kim gave her a puzzled look. "I'm not following Ker."

Kerry described her visit with the Lake Michigan Finn, ending with his mother's death.

"Oh, poor little guy," Kim said, shaking her head. "My God, what sort of message do you get about yourself and the world when your mother kills herself?"

"I know," Kerry said, staring out at the water. "It breaks my heart to think about it."

"So why the intensive research?"

Kerry closed the computer and deposited it on the deck beside her chair. "Are you kidding? I got one-upped by a nine-year-old boy today. I want to be prepared in case he comes back."

Kim tossed her head back and laughed.

The pain and fatigue started to catch up with Kerry during dinner, so that by the time she and Kim had lingered over coffee and watched the last glow disappear from the sky, Kim could see it in the pallor of her face and the dullness of her eyes. She rolled Kerry back into the house and wordlessly fetched her painkillers.

"How about we put off that big bath until tomorrow?" Kim asked softly.

Kerry nodded, not trusting her voice.

Kim helped her to the bathroom, into a nightshirt and into bed. She left her with a book and the bedside table lamp on, while she went and cleaned up the kitchen and had a bath herself.

She sat in the tub for a long time, letting the hot water soothe her tired muscles and silence her restless mind. No thoughts, no worries for nearly twenty minutes. Now this was a good drug, she thought as she toweled herself off.

She left the bathroom, her hair still piled on top of her head, tightly wrapped in a thick terry robe. Kerry hadn't moved and the book she'd left for her hadn't been touched. Kim checked her expression and saw that she looked miserable.

"Kerry? Are you still in pain? Do you need more painkillers?" she asked softly, sitting down on the side of the bed.

Kerry didn't look at her, but Kim could see the tears slowly collecting in her eyes.

"Kerry, what's the matter? Talk to me," Kim said.

Kerry fiddled with the edge of the sheets. "Nothing's the matter, I'm just -- " She looked helplessly at Kim and shrugged. "I don't know what's the matter. I just keep wanting to cry."

"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry, come here," Kim said and she reached her arms out for the tiny red head. Kerry leaned into Kim and burrowed against her shoulder, holding onto her tightly. "It's just the trip and everything catching up with you. All the driving and moving around. You just need a good long sleep." She pressed her cheek to the top of Kerry's head and rested it there.

Kerry huddled in Kim's arms until Kim could feel the physical tension leaving her body. At last Kim pulled back a little to look at her face. "Do you want to go to sleep now?"

Kerry nodded, her eyes red and puffy. "Yeah," she said, "I should."

Kim rearranged the pillows and helped Kerry lie down and get settled, then turned out the light. "I'll leave the door to both our rooms open so that if you call for me, I'll hear you, all right?"

Kerry nodded in the half-light.

Kim smiled. "Night, Ker. Sleep well."

She padded around the quiet house, locking doors and turning out the lights. She was taking one last look at the stars when she heard Kerry's voice.

"Kim?"

She retraced her steps to the bedroom.

"Yes?"

Silence.

"Kerry?" she asked and she felt for the light switch.

"Would you sit with me for a while longer?" Kerry said. "Just -- just for a little while?"

Kim's expression blossomed into a smile, which she tried to tame. "Sure," she said, heading for the bed. "I can do that."

She crawled up onto the huge bed, nestled herself against Kerry and settled herself into the pillows. "Here, just lie back," she said, guiding Kerry's head so that it rested against her ribs. Kerry shifted into place and laid a hand on Kim's leg.

Kim drew her fingers slowly through Kerry's silky hair and Kerry sighed.

Kim smiled to herself.

The breeze coming off Lake Michigan was just cool enough to take the sting out of the steadily climbing sun and Kerry sat with her eyes closed and her face turned into the sweet wind, letting it wash over her. It wasn't enough to erase the hangover of pain that soaked through her, but it helped. The water and the breeze and the peace... they all sort of helped.

She cast a glance back into the house, saw Kim busy at the stove and she wondered if she was possibly going to be able to keep anything down. Maybe just some coffee. Or fruit. But not milk. No more milk. She couldn't face another glass.

She sighed.

Roger, in an attempt to provide them with absolutely everything they could possibly need, had arranged to have the Chicago Tribune delivered to them and this morning's edition sat beside her on the table, screaming its usual mix of local, national and international bad news.

She was scanning an article on the latest catastrophic plan for O'Hare when she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. She looked up, squinting in spite of her sunglasses.

Down at the shore, a small figure in bright blue Hawaiian shorts and a white t-shirt was trudging through the sand, a knapsack slung across one shoulder.

She watched him come, head down, taking quick steps, oblivious to everything around him.

Just then, Kim stepped out onto the deck with their plates. She followed Kerry's gaze. "Ah," she said, "can I assume that this is the legendary Finn, himself?"

Kerry nodded, still watching him carefully. "That's him."

"My God, Kerry, you didn't say he was so..."

"Beautiful?" Kerry supplied.

Kim put the plates down on the table. "Yeah. He's gorgeous."

He was almost within earshot and for the first time he looked up to find both women watching him from the deck. He stopped dead, his gaze shifting nervously from one to the other.

"Hi," he said and it was a question.

"Hi!" Kerry called. "Come on up, we were just having breakfast."

He took a few uncertain steps, close enough for Kim to see the bottomless blue in his eyes and then he hesitated. Manners reared their ugly heads.

"I should come back after you've eaten," he said and he started to turn.

"Have you had breakfast?" Kim asked.

He nodded. "I ate with Gran. At five."

Kerry stole a look at her watch. "Well that was over three hours ago. You must be starving by now. Why don't you come and have a little snack with us."

Another pause while he checked for potential etiquette violations and then he smiled. He climbed the steps to the deck.

"Hi, I'm Finn," he said and he stuck out his hand to Kim.

Kerry saw Kim's eyes widen slightly before she smiled and shook his hand with utter seriousness. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Finn. I'm Kim." She studied him for a moment while they shook hands and then she shot a look at Kerry, who just shrugged and smiled. "Listen, you just pull up a chair for yourself and I'll go fix you a plate. Do you like scrambled eggs?"

Finn nodded eagerly as he dragged a third chair to the patio table and sat down, depositing his knapsack on the deck beside him.

"Boy, you get up pretty early in the morning," Kerry said.

Finn nodded. "Gran gets up then. She says when you get old you can't sleep so well."

"Is it just you and your Gran over there?"

"And Estelle. She's the cook and housekeeper and everything. Sometimes my grandpa comes for the weekend, but he's pretty busy. He has a lot of factories and he needs to work a lot."

Kerry nodded. "Are there any kids your age around here?"

Finn shook his head sadly. "No. There's hardly anybody under a hundred here -- well, except for you guys. The Wallaces have a granddaughter but she's a teenager." His expression let Kerry know that he'd sooner pal around with boy-eating dinosaurs than a teenage girl.

Kim reappeared with a tray bearing another plate of breakfast, two glasses of chocolate milk and two mugs of steaming coffee. Finn's eyes lit up, but he said nothing while Kim place drinks and plates around the table.

"I hope chocolate milk is okay," she said and Finn nodded eagerly.

"Thank you," he said as his plate was put in front of him.

He waited until the two women had fixed their coffees and started to eat their eggs before picking up his fork.

"How's your leg feel today, Kerry?" he asked after downing a few mouthfuls of egg.

"It's a little sore," Kerry said.

Kim did a double take. What happened to the patented Weaver litany of 'I'm fine, I'm fine?' She decided to hold her tongue and eat her English muffin. Maybe this little guy was a seer.

"How long do you have to have your cast?"

"We're not too sure yet," Kerry said. "We have to see how it heals, but it's probably going to be a few months."

His face fell. "You won't be able to go swimming all summer. My friend, Kevin in Connecticut, he had a broken arm and he couldn't swim when he had his cast."

Kerry nodded. "Yeah, I'll have to stay out of the water for a while."

He polished off his last strawberry and eyed his slice of cantaloupe. "That's awful," he said. "Your whole summer vacation." Something hit him then and he looked from Kim to Kerry and back again. "You're on vacation, right? I mean, are you gonna stay for a while here?"

The two women looked at each other.

"Well, actually," Kim said, "we're not too sure. We decided to come up here after Kerry got hurt so that she had a quiet place to rest and get better. We hadn't really decided how long we would stay."

"Is Rachel coming this summer?" he asked.

"I don't think she can make it this summer," Kim said. "She's pretty busy with her job right now."

"She's really nice," Finn said. "Some of the people at this beach yell if you walk in front of their place, but she didn't. And her girlfriend Laura was really nice. She played Frisbee with me sometimes."

Kerry saw the barely perceptible arch to Kim's eyebrow. "You've met Laura?" she asked.

He nodded, his mouth full of cantaloupe.

"Isn't that great," she said, and speared her scrambled eggs.

Kerry felt the temperature drop twenty degrees.

"So do you guys work in Washington, like Rachel?" Finn asked after he had wiped his mouth with his napkin.

"No," Kerry said. "We work in Chicago. We're doctors."

His eyes widened slightly at this news but it was impossible to tell whether in delight or dismay. "Really?"

"Yeah," Kim said. "Kerry is a doctor in the emergency room, so she takes care of people who have had accidents or who get really sick all of a sudden. And I'm a psychiatrist. I treat with people who--"

"I know what a psychiatrist does," he said quietly, eyes on his plate.

Kerry and Kim exchanged a look.

"So, Finn," Kerry said. "Yesterday you said you have schoolwork even though it's summer vacation. How come?"

He took a big breath, as if the explanation was going to require exertion. "Well, I told you my mom died, right?"

Kerry nodded.

"Well, before she died, my mom and dad used to fight a lot about what school I should go to. She wanted me to go to the school in our neighbourhood and my dad and my Gran wanted me to go to the private school that my dad went to. It's called the Blackburn Academy and it's pretty hard. Anyway, after my mom died I started getting really bad report cards and my dad said I would do better if he switched me to Blackburn."

He paused, studied his chocolate milk as if he'd never seen the liquid before. "I'm not getting very good grades there, either," he said.

Kerry regarded him sympathetically. "What grade are you in?"

"I'm starting fifth grade in September."

"So your dad and your Gran want you to do extra work this summer to catch up?"

He nodded.

The three were silent for a long moment.

"Well that stinks," Kerry said. "In fact, that stinks worse than having a cast."

A giggle bubbled up and burst out of Finn. "It does," he said, laughing full out. "It stinks way worse."

His delight at her comment was infectious and Kim and Kerry laughed along with him.

"Oh," Finn said suddenly. "I forgot. I brought you a present."

He reached down to retrieve a weather-beaten green canvas knapsack, rummaged around and pulled out an oddly shaped red plastic contraption with a slightly crushed silver bow attached. He handed it to Kerry.

She turned it over in her hands, examining it carefully. It was made of red Lego pieces, with lots of hinges. She looked up at Finn.

"It's beautiful, Finn, but I'm afraid I don't know what it is."

He grinned. "Squeeze the part at the end -- the handle."

She squeezed and the contraption came to life, springing out of its coiled form and reaching all the way across the table to Kim, who jumped a little.

"See? It's a reaching and grabbing thing. So you can get stuff without getting out of your wheelchair." He was beaming and Kerry stared at him, soaking up the glee.

"It's fabulous," she said. "Thank you, Finn."

"You're welcome," he said and he just couldn't quite turn the smile off. "Hey, see if you can grab the salt shaker!"

Kerry made a half dozen aborted attempts and nearly knocked over her glass of milk before she finally snagged the plastic shaker and retrieved it to her side of the table. Finn applauded her then checked his watch, which Kerry noticed had some Star Wars character on it.

"Oh, boy," he said, getting to his feet. "I'd better go. Gran said that I wasn't supposed to stay too long because it would tire you out."

"She doesn't look too tired to me," Kim said with a smile. "You tell your Gran that we like your visits and if Kerry is too tired, we'll send you home, okay?"

His smile grew slowly as he processed this information. "Okay," he said to Kim. "I'll tell her." He gathered up his knapsack.

"Thanks for the reaching and grabbing tool," Kerry said. "I think I'm going to get some real use out of it."

A slight blush. "You're welcome." He turned to Kim. "It was very nice to meet you, Kim and you make really great scrambled eggs."

Kim laughed. "Well thanks. It was great to meet you, too, Finn. I hope we'll see you again."

He grinned and skipped down the stairs, racing towards the water, then coming to a dead stop a few strides later. He whipped around, knapsack swinging with him. "Thank you for breakfast!" he called back at them. The two women waved and then he was off again, tanned legs pumping hard, running down the beach.

Kim got up and started clearing off the dirty dishes.

"So, tell me about Rachel," Kerry said.

Kim stopped moving and got a hard look in her eyes. "Not much to tell really."

"No?" Kerry said. "Because when Finn brought her up, it seemed liked there was something there."

"It's nothing, Kerry. We were together for a while, then we weren't, end of story."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize that this was a sore point with you," Kerry said.

Kim deftly avoided Kerry's gaze and continued stacking plates. "Just because I don't feel like talking about it doesn't make it a sore point."

"But there must be a reason that you don't feel like talking about it," Kerry said.

"It's ancient history."

"It sure didn't look like ancient history at breakfast," Kerry shot back.

Kim kept her eyes on the tabletop. "It's also not really your business."

"That never seems to stop you."

Their eyes locked and Kerry couldn't quite make herself take those words back.

"Why are you doing this?" Kim asked and Kerry saw the hurt in her eyes. She searched for an answer, an apology, something. Nothing came in time.

Kim shook her head and picked up an armful of dishes. "Look, I have cleaning up to do," she said. She strode off across the deck towards the house.

Kerry hung her head and swore at herself under her breath.

Section Three

Kim sat at the end of a deck chair, her chin in her hand and watched the late afternoon sun polish the diamond tops of the waves. She'd struggled to focus on her research paper, only to stall irreversibly a handful of sentences later. Which didn't stop her from figuratively banging her head on the laptop for another couple of hours before she admitted defeat. Eventually this gave way to a spell of sitting at the dining room table, arms tightly crossed, staring down ghosts from the past. An hour's furious cleaning in the kitchen came next, followed by at least that long again preparing vegetables and a salad for supper. Finally, she surrendered to her mood and went and sat on the deck of the house that Rachel had built, to stare blankly out at the water.

Kim heard the door open behind her, made out the soft rubber thump of Kerry's wheels hitting the deck. She turned to look. Kerry sat there in her wheelchair, a few yards away with two bottles of wine and two brightly coloured plastic glasses carefully balanced on her lap. She wheeled herself closer, wearing an apologetic smile.

Kim nodded towards the two bottles. "Planning on tying one on?" she asked.

Kerry shook her head as she positioned herself beside Kim. "Actually, I thought maybe you might like to get a little drunk."

Kim gave her a long even look. "I'm afraid I'm not following you."

Kerry grinned hopefully. "It was a hard day for you," she said, "and I know I didn't help. So I thought we could have a drink together and maybe talk."

"Oh, Kerry, I'm not sure I'm in the mood," Kim said.

Kerry pulled the cork from one of the bottles and filled a plastic juice glass. "It might make you feel better," she said. "Oh and don't mind the stemware. They were all I could reach from the chair."

Kim chuckled softly and accepted the tiny glass. "You're relentless, aren't you?"

Kerry smiled. "Let's just say I'm used to getting what I want." She recorked the bottle and put it down on the deck.

"To getting what you want," Kim said and she touched her cup to Kerry's. They drank their wine.

Kim put her glass down and got to her feet as if she hadn't heard a word. "Kerry, your toes are all dusky, I think there's swelling again. We need to prop your leg." She maneuvered the support out and gently placed Kerry's leg on it.

"I'm fine, just leave my damn leg alone, already."

Kim sat down and faced her with a sigh. "So fire me."

"I can't. If it weren't for you, I'd probably still be lying on my kitchen floor," Kerry said flatly, staring at the deep purple wine in her glass. "And I probably deserve to be there. But the wonderful and terrible thing about this world is that we don't always get what we deserve."

Kim looked over at her.

"I don't know how I will ever repay you for all of this," Kerry said.

Kim turned her eyes back towards the horizon. "You don't owe me anything," she said. "I'm here because I want to be here. It's my choice."

Kerry reached out a tentative hand and touched Kim's hair, cupped her cheek. "Is it hard to be here? At this house, I mean?"

Kim closed her eyes for a moment and let the feeling of Kerry's touch soak through her.

"I have no bad memories or good memories of this place," Kim said. "Rachel built it long after we'd broken up. She took me up to see it one time, a few years ago."

"So it was what Finn said about Laura, then," Kerry said. She ached to reach out again, to touch Kim's face, her hair.

"It just sort of triggered it," Kim said, looking down at her hands. They sat in silence for a few long minutes, listening to the waves and the gulls circling over the water. Kerry bided her time, waiting for Kim to speak, sensing she would.

"We met our first year at college," Kim said softly. "We were on the same floor in the dorm and we hit it off right away. Rachel was in music, preparing to become a concert pianist and I used to tag along sometimes to her rehearsal room just to listen to her play while I studied."

Kerry watched Kim's face closely.

"We were pretty much inseparable and deep down, I already knew who I was and I knew that I was in love with her, but I was too afraid to act on it." Kim drank more wine and looked at the shore with far away eyes. "Until one night, just after Christmas break, she came to my room about ten o'clock at night and said, 'I want to try something.' And then she kissed me. I was just shocked, you know, blown away by this and she kept kissing me and touching me and I didn't quite know how to respond but in the end, it didn't matter, because she started undressing me and telling me that I was beautiful and that she'd wanted to do this for months."

"Wow," Kerry said, softly. "She knew what she wanted."

Kim nodded. "And when Rachel wants something, she generally gets it."

She pulled in a deep breath and let it go slowly. "We were together for nearly four years. Rachel wanted us to get an apartment together, so we did. She thought I should come out to my family, so I did that, too, which went over about as well as you would expect. And all along, I thought we were really solid, you know? I thought I knew her so well."

Kerry waited, attentively, holding her breath.

"The year that she was graduating from music, I was in my first year of medical school. I had turned down a scholarship at another school so that I could stay with Rachel and I had never once regretted that decision. Things between us were a little hairy and we weren't seeing quite as much of each other as we used to, but I thought that was just regular couple stuff. And then one day, I found two very surprising things. I was late for class and couldn't find my wallet and I needed bus fare. So I went looking for change in Rachel's knapsack. Only to find a receipt for the next year's tuition at a law school across the country, and a half empty box of condoms."

Kerry's face fell. "Oh, Kim," she said.

"Four years," Kim said shaking her head. "Four years together and I thought I knew her." She drained her wineglass and reached for the bottle. "What I didn't know was that I had been just a college diversion, a final walk on the alternative side before she entered the button down real world, which apparently required an Ivy league diploma and a husband, not a lesbian partner."

"How can you stand it?" Kerry asked. "I mean, if she hurt you like that, Kim, how can you even stand to talk to her?"

Kim shrugged. "Part of me can still see all the things I fell in love with in the first place. And then there's the bizarre fact that lesbians never seem to really part ways with their exes. I don't know if we're just emotionally evolved and can see past the petty issues, or is we're just incredibly self-destructive."

"Do you know Laura?" she asked.

"I've met her and she seems nice," Kim said. "And I really do wish Rachel the best, it's just..."

Kerry waited, studying Kim's profile.

"...It's just hard sometimes."

Kerry nodded.

"So, now you know," Kim said suddenly, getting to her feet. "Everything's ready to go for supper. We just need to put the chops on the grill. Are you hungry?"

Kerry nodded. "Yeah, I am."

"All right, I'll get things going."

Kerry turned herself around and followed Kim. "Maybe I can help with something."

Kim opened the door to the house and let Kerry pass through. "You can keep pouring me wine," Kim said.

Whatever you want, Kerry thought as she rolled herself inside.

Kim pulled the bathroom door partway closed and headed for the kitchen, leaving Kerry to an enjoyable, if slightly awkward, soak in the tub. They'd gotten her on and off the toilet with no problems, washed her hair and now, the main priority for Kim was hot, strong coffee. The making of it and the drinking of it. She strode towards the coffeemaker with a determined expression, wondering if it was possible to have an emotional hangover, because she was pretty sure she had on this morning.

She glanced out the front doors, saw the morning surf pounding the shore and a flawless blue bowl of a sky. Another step and she spotted a blonde head, hunched over a notebook, knapsack on the step beside him. Kim veered away from the kitchen and pulled open a front door.

"Hi, Finn!" she said, walking out onto the deck. The sun warmed the top of her head instantly. It was going to be warm today.

The little figure turned, then smiled brightly. "Hi, Kim! I hope it's okay if I'm sitting here."

"It's perfectly okay," Kim said, sitting down on the top step beside him. She took in the math workbook, clenched pencil and a mass of eraser shavings. "Have you been here long?"

"A little while. I'm doing some homework."

"I see that," Kim said. She rested her elbows on her knees. "So, your Gran told you not to knock if we weren't on the deck, huh?"

He blinked twice and gaped at her. "How did you know that?"

"I used to have a Gran," Kim said.

Finn nodded knowingly. "Where's Kerry?"

"She's in the bathtub." Kim reached over and pushed his bangs out of his eyes. "I suppose you've had breakfast already?"

"Well, yeah. Some cereal. With Gran."

Kim nodded. "She also said not to be begging around for an invitation to breakfast, right?"

He sighed and nodded.

"Of course, it's not begging if I offer, is it?" Kim said.

He looked up, hope in his clear blue eyes.

"Cause I'm offering," Kim said as she got to her feet. "And you should probably know we're having pancakes." She picked up his knapsack and headed for the house. "If you want to stay, maybe you could set the table while I fish Kerry out of the tub."

"I can do that," he said eagerly. "If you get the stuff down for me."

Kim nodded. "Deal. Now, tell me Finn, do you know how to make coffee?"

He shot her a look. "Of course not. I'm only nine years old."

"Then it's high time you learned. Follow me." She smiled at the sound of small bare feet padding across the deck behind her.

Kim rinsed breakfast dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher, keeping one ear tuned to the conversation coming from the dining room table.

"Okay, now read number four," Kerry said and it was her nurturing voice, the voice Kim had heard her use with children, with frightened souls huddled on gurneys and with anyone who needed a little loving reassurance as much as they needed emergency care.

"Match the name of the -- the -- p -- polygon with the number of sides." Finn's voice was halting and broken as if he was reading a language he did not understand.

"So what does that mean? What's the job you have to do?"

"I have to draw a line from these names to these numbers."

"Okay, you do that," Kerry said.

Kim shut the dishwasher door and peered around the corner at them.

Finn was standing beside Kerry's wheelchair, one hip resting against the arm of the chair, pencil clenched in his hand, head bent over his work. Kerry's arm was around his waist, as if she was keeping him at the table to finish his work, and she was supervising him carefully.

Finn lifted his head. "Octagon," he said, eyes wide.

"You know that one," Kerry said. "Think of the other 'oct' word."

His eyes narrowed for only a moment and then he cried, "Octopus! It's eight!"

"You've got it," Kerry said, watching him draw the connecting line.

Kim slipped off to the shower, smiling to herself.

Kerry looked up at the sound of the wind chimes tinkling brightly on the deck. In the distance, she could hear the rhythm of the waves over the other night sounds and it made her want to settle back against the sofa cushions and sigh. So calm. So right. She wondered if there was a moon tonight and she thought, briefly, about going out to the deck to look.

Kim had lit a few candles around the room and now she was sprawled in an overstuffed easy chair, across the coffee table from her, one long leg flung over the arm. She was reading one of those Sue Grafton books -- 'D is for Dead Guy' or something like that and from time to time, she chuckled as she read.

Kerry had tried to read a couple of that series but hadn't found them very compelling. Not enough substance. She preferred something with some real detecting, where you paid attention to the science and the body. Like Patricia Cornwell's coroner, Dr. What's-her-name...although even the quality of her books had dipped recently. The stories read like the author needed a serious re-adjustment of her lithium.

She glanced down at her Journal of Emergency Medicine and wanted to sigh in frustration. She'd been trying to read the same article all day and hadn't gotten past the literature review. Her concentration was shot. Probably the pain. And the painkillers. And the incredible curve of Kim's bare leg as it hung over the arm of the chair. God, she was so beautiful, it still took Kerry's breath away.

That had been the hardest part at first -- believing that Kim wanted to be with her, with this awkward, tentative and terminally plain woman. She saw the heads turn when they walked someplace together -- men's for one reason and women's usually for another, but heads definitely turned. Kim just had that effect on nearly everyone -- her walk, her hair, her hands, her eyes, her voice... she just drew you in, further and further, until you were lost.

Kim turned a page and Kerry's eyes flicked up to look at her. That mouth -- how it rested in a tentative smile. God, that mouth on her belly, on her breasts, on her mouth. Sometimes Kerry could still summon up the smell of her, the scent of them together, making love in Kim's bed, their limbs intertwined, their mouths searching each other, the sweet desperation of it. She remembered being dizzy with it all, her head spinning and then just letting herself go, letting herself fall into Kim's arms, knowing she'd be there, knowing she'd catch her.

She missed it more than she could say.

All those weeks last fall, knowing deep down what she was doing when she talked to Kim and laughed with Kim and memorized the shape of her face. Knowing exactly what she was feeling but denying it to herself and then to Kim.

Wanting it so much and yet being terrified of having it.

"Kerry?"

Her voice is so soft and Kerry knows the moment before she looks up, exactly how her smile will look and what shade of blue her eyes will be in this light.

"Are you okay?" Kim asked. "You looked so serious."

Kerry summoned a smile. "I'm fine. I was just thinking about work."

Kim nodded, a slightly skeptical look in her eyes then turned back to her book.

Kerry let her gaze linger on her for a moment longer, studied the soft and creamy skin of her throat.

That was it, wasn't it?

Being too terrified to have it.

"Kerry, we've been doing geometry for a week now! Can't we do something else? I know it all now," Finn said. He was sitting on a lawn chair at the patio table, his bare feet dangling.

"But your tutor hasn't sent your test yet, Finn. You want to be prepared, don't you?" Kerry said, not taking her eyes from her newspaper.

"But I am prepared," he said. "I really am! Ask me something." He jumped to his feet as if she might ask him to sprint to the water and back.

"Okay." She put her paper down. "What's the difference between an acute angle and an obtuse angle?"

"Acute is less than 90 degrees and obtuse is more than 90 degrees."

"Correct. What do you call an angle that has 180 degrees?"

"A straight angle." He did a little dance. "Ask me something else."

"How many faces on a square based pyramid?" She watched him stare off into the distance, visualizing and counting.

""Five!" he shouted. "Four triangles and one square."

"How many degrees in a triangle?"

"One eighty!"

"Yeah, you're ready," she said, picking up her newspaper again.

He did an abbreviated victory dance, then hopped back into the chair.

"So what will we work on today?" he asked.

"Multiplication tables."

"Again?" He rolled his eyes and let himself fall back into the chair.

"Yes, again," Kerry said. "What did I say about multiplication tables?"

He sighed. "Multiplication tables are like muscles," he said in a singsong voice. "If you don't keep exercising them, they get all soft and flabby."

"Yes indeed, now get out those flash cards we made," Kerry said.

Finn sat back in his chair, eyeing Kerry shrewdly.

"How come I have to exercise my multiplication muscles but you don't have to exercise your crutch muscles?"

Kerry let the newspaper fall to her lap. "I beg your pardon?"

"It's true," he said. "You haven't done your exercises for your arms for three days now and that's why you aren't getting strong enough to use your crutches."

Kerry gave him a look that would have made Malucci cry. He calmly met her gaze.

"You're a pain in the neck, you know that?" she said.

He nodded. "You want me to go get your weights?"

Kerry sighed and tossed her newspaper on the table. "All right," she said, "but we're doing the nine times table today, mister."

"Ooooh, I'm scared," he said and he slipped out of the lawn chair.

At the last moment, Kerry grabbed his arm and drew him back to her. He leaned on her chair and regarded her with questioning eyes.

"What? Do you want me to get something else, too?"

"No, I want to tell you something," she said, taking his hand in hers. "I want to tell you something about why the crutches are hard for me."

"Oh, you mean about your bad leg?"

Kerry blinked. "Yeah, how did you know that?"

"Kim told me," he said. He bent down to scratch a mosquito bite on his leg. "You know the day Kim and I went swimming and you watched? She told me that you really like swimming because your bad leg doesn't bother you then."

"I see," Kerry said. She turned his hand over and looked at the young creases in his palm. "And did she tell you how it got to be my bad leg?"

He nodded, cowlick bobbing. "She said it was just born kind of weak and that you usually use a crutch to help you walk. And she said sometimes it's sore and it makes you tired."

Kerry stared at his piercingly blue eyes while he looked her cast up and down.

"I guess it was pretty unlucky to break your strong leg, huh?" he said.

Kerry chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, it was definitely unlucky."

"You want your weights now?"

Kerry nodded. "And tell Kim that we could sure use two glasses of chocolate milk out here, okay?"

A giant grin. "Okay."

Finn trotted to the glass doors and let himself in, carefully closing the door behind him without a noise. Kim was at the dining room table, typing on her laptop and he made his way to her side.

"Hey, what's up?" she said, when he leaned on the table beside her.

"Kerry wants to know if we can both have some chocolate milk," he said with a Cheshire cat smile, "because she thinks she might get thirsty lifting her weights."

Kim's eyes widened. "Nice work cowboy. That was fast."

He nodded happily. "I said what you said to say and it worked. Except now I have to do the nine times table."

"Ouch," Kim said. "Sorry about that."

"'S'okay," he said. "I can do it."

Kim tousled his hair. "I know you can. All right, you get the weights, I'll get the refreshments."

He nodded, still grinning, and then trotted across the living room, towards Kerry's bedroom.

Kim shook her head and smiled.

The sun was glorious.

Kim lay stretched out on a deck chair, drenching herself in the healing dry heat. All those months of boots and coats and scarves, of getting out of bed when it was dark and returning from work when it was dark were falling away now, one by one, melted off by the sweet caress of the sun.

"Kim, this sentence here about the previous research, I don't think it's strong enough," Kerry said from her shaded spot.

Kim suppressed a sigh. After all, she had asked Kerry to look it over. Except right now all she wanted to do was to fall asleep here in her bathing suit, while soaking up enough vitamin D to last through the next winter.

"What sentence, Kerry?"

Kerry read. "'While the conclusions of Guaraldi et al, (1995) point to the need for a universal protocol...etc, etc.'"

"What's wrong with it?"

"I think you should be more forceful. Your proposal is a good one and you should be selling it more persuasively right from the start."

"What do you suggest?"

Kerry looked at the laptop screen. "Guardaldi et al (1995) and others clearly mandate the necessity of a universal protocol in this area, which until now has been elusive."

Kim cocked her head. "That does sound better."

Kerry typed in the changes and kept reading.

"Hey, Ker?" Kim called a moment later.

"What?"

"Finn hasn't dropped by yet today. That's kind of odd, don't you think?"

"Yes, it is," Kerry said, craning to look down the beach. "Maybe he had to go to town with -- wait a minute, I think that's him, there. He's just walking this way."

A few minutes later, he appeared on their beach, head down, without his knapsack. He ambled along, kicking the sand here and there until he felt Kerry's gaze upon him. He smiled weakly and climbed the steps of the deck.

"Hi," he said and there was no sense of life about him today.

"Hi, Finn," Kim said, sitting up to see the expression that matched the tiny sad voice. "How are you doing?"

He shrugged. "Okay."

"We missed you this morning," Kerry said. "I was even going to give you the morning off math today."

He nodded, his eyes far away.

"Finn, are you sure you're all right? You look a little...sad," Kim said, swinging her legs around to a sitting position.

Finn studied his toes and sighed. "I have to tell you something," he said.

Kim and Kerry exchanged concerned looks.

"What, sweetheart?" Kerry asked.

He looked from one woman to the other. "Gran wants you to come to tea. Tomorrow."

There was a silence while the two women made eye contact again.

"Well, that's nice of her," Kerry said. "Inviting us over and all."

Finn fidgeted. "Yeah, I know, but..."

They waited.

"But what, Finn?" Kim asked.

He looked at Kim with pleading eyes. "Gran is kind of...well...she's kind of...bossy." He said this last word with a wince.

Kerry had to cover her mouth with her hand to keep from smiling.

"Bossy?" Kim said, leaning closer to the little boy. "You mean like telling people what to do?"

"Yeah," he said, but his tone made it sound qualified.

"Or maybe more like telling people what she thinks all the time?"

He nodded. "Yeah, that too."

Kim nodded and looked like she was thinking.

"Are you worried that we won't like Gran?"

He shook his head. "No. Not really. You'll probably like her okay. Probably."

"Are you maybe worried that she won't like us very much?" Such a gentle voice, it sounded like she was holding him.

He met her gaze, two sets of blue eyes pleading with each other. He nodded hesitantly.

"Because we're lesbians?"

The words burst out of him. "She's really happy that I'm doing all this schoolwork and I'm actually learning stuff, but sometimes she says things to Estelle and to other people you know and it's just not nice because you guys are really nice. My Mom said it was because Gran didn't know any gay people when she was a girl but I don't see why she has to be so mean."

Kim was nodding and urging him on with her eyes.

"She says that I spend too much time over here but she doesn't understand that I like it here and it's really boring at her house cause she never does anything fun and it makes me miss my Mom more. And I really like you guys, you're my friends and who cares if someone's gay or something because they're just a person like everybody else. It's so stupid."

He crossed his arms and sank back into the lawn chair, his face awash in frustration and sadness.

Kim and Kerry checked each other's expressions once again and Kerry gave a barely perceptible nod.

Kim reached over and drew Finn out of the chair with gentle hands and sat him down beside her on the deck chair, then slung an arm around his small shoulders.

"Listen to me, Finn Mac Cool," she said. "You are our friend, mine and Kerry's and when we pick out a friend, we never change our minds. Nothing that could happen at tea tomorrow could possibly change that. Do you understand that? We're not going to change what we think of you even if your Gran thinks we're horrible people and chases us out with a broom. Got it?"

A small chuckle, no doubt at the visual, and a nod. "Okay. I've got it."

"As for your Gran...well, sometimes things happen to people in their life, Finn. Things that hurt them or scare them, or things that they were taught are true. Maybe your Mom's right, maybe your Gran has never known any nice gay people, so she doesn't know much about gay people." She squeezed him in a one-armed hug. "And you don't have to worry about her hurting our feelings because Kerry and I have had other people say mean things to us because we're gay and we can decide not to let it hurt us. So no matter what happens tomorrow, we'll be okay, too."

He looked up at her, then across at Kerry, who sat watching and listening. She nodded her agreement.

"But the most important part is this, little man -- you don't have to worry about your Gran not letting you come over here anymore because we are both going to do everything we can to make sure that she still lets you come over. We love having you visit, Finn and we're not going to let that change." She smiled at him. "At least not without a fight, and remember, Kerry's got those crutches."

He blinked, then started to giggle and flung his arms around Kim's waist.

"Okay," he said. "I'm not going to worry anymore."

"Excellent," Kim said and she dropped a kiss on the top of his fair head. "Hey, are you interested in some swimming?"

He was on his feet before she finished the sentence. "I've been working on my handstand. Wanna see it?"

"Sure," Kim said. "Let's go see it."

Finn tore down the steps then spun around to face the deck. "Hey, Kerry, you watch from there, okay? Watch for my handstand!"

Kerry waved. "I'll be watching."

Kim cast a look back at Kerry and Kerry arched an eyebrow and nodded. Yeah, she thought, we'll discuss Gran later.

"Kerry, this is a very bad idea," Kim said, rooting around in Kerry's predictably well-stocked medical bag.

"Nonsense," Kerry said. "A med student could take out stitches."

"Do you know when I was last a med student?" Kim asked. "The closest I've been to stitches in the last eight years was when I cut my hand slicing a bagel last year and even then, I went back to the ER to have them taken out."

"Oh, stop fussing. Snip, snip and you slide them out."

Kim stopped, gloved hands in mid-air. "But it's your face, Kerry."

"Kim, there is absolutely nothing you can do to hurt my face. The removal of the stitches in no way affects the final product."

"They have healed really well," Kim said, probing one of the cuts with her index finger.

"Good. So take the damn things out already, cause I still need to have a bath and wash my hair."

"You're sure you want me to do this?"

Kerry gave her a look. "You either take them out or I'll do it myself with a mirror."

"All right, all right," Kim said and she disinfected the blades of a pair of surgical scissors. "But I don't see why it couldn't wait another day or two and I could take you to see a real ER doctor."

"I am not going to visit that woman with my face looking like this," Kerry said.

Kim pursed her lips as she snipped a minute knot and slid a stitch out. "Yeah, I suppose the less ammunition she has to fire at us, the more chance Finn has of getting to hang out with us over here at Lesbian Central."

Kerry sat motionless while Kim worked her way along the largest cut, quietly snipping and tweezing away sutures. "How bad do you think it's going to be?" Kerry asked as Kim dabbed her face with antiseptic.

"I don't know," she said. "We'll have to wait and see. Personally, I always like to open with honey and switch to vinegar only when necessary."

"Are you saying we should try to charm her?"

Kim wiped a piece of nylon suture off her tweezers. "If Finn's description is only partly accurate, it may not be possible to charm her."

Kerry nodded and Kim held her head still with one hand.

"So we should just be our witty and sophisticated selves?" Kerry asked.

Kim laughed as she snipped. "Oh yeah, that'll work."

Kim pulled the Jetta into the huge semi-circular driveway, edging it up behind the silver Mercedes that was parked near the door. Rachel's house hadn't looked small until they'd pulled up here and Kim realized that the view they had of the Ryan house from Rachel's deck was deceiving -- the place wasn't just big, it was palatial.

She popped the trunk and retrieved Kerry's crutches, then brought them to the passenger side door where she waited. She had insisted on the crutches, even though her stability on them was questionable, refusing to use the wheelchair, as if she felt it would take away from a potential position of power at tea.

Kim already felt the urge to roll her eyes and they weren't even out of the car.

They made their way to the front door, painfully slowly, Kerry teetering with each step, Kim standing close by, one arm extended in case she needed steadying. Kim could see the discomfort that every step brought and she felt in her pocket for Kerry's tiny bottle of painkillers. She had a feeling they'd be needing them.

Before they got to the massive front door, it flew open and Finn emerged at a gallop, making a beeline for them.

"Hi! Hi!" he said. "You're here!"

"We certainly are," Kerry said, with a smile. He took up a position on her left side, and mirrored Kim's protective posture as she crept towards the house.

"Hey, you're doing a lot better with those," he said to her, glancing quickly at Kim to catch her eye. "I think you must be getting stronger from doing your weights."

Kerry nodded. "I have a slave driver for a trainer," she said.

"Hey, look at how handsome you look," Kim said, "all dressed up."

He wore a jade green polo shirt and khakis with a sharply ironed pleat. His bare feet were gone, replaced with slightly worn deck shoes and his hair had been brushed and an effort at taming the cowlick had been made.

"Gran made me," he said, but his smile betrayed his pleasure at the compliment.

They were just cresting the threshold of the massive main doors when a woman with silver white hair and glacial blue eyes appeared. She was dressed casually in slacks and a cotton sweater with a necklace and earrings. Kim wondered if there was a section in the L.L. Bean catalogue called "Rich Ladies Of A Certain Age Having Tea." If there wasn't, there should be, and she knew who could be their first model.

"Oh, good heavens, dear, are you quite all right, there?" she said as she approached. "Now, Francis, don't get in the way."

Kim started to look around for this Francis and then remembered. Finn caught her eye and he smiled sheepishly.

"Well, now let's get you into a comfortable chair right away, dear," Gran said and she led the way out of the spacious foyer into a sitting room. "I'm Maureen Ryan, Francis's grandmother." She extended her hand to Kim in a position that made Kim wonder if she was supposed to kiss it or shake it. She opted for the latter.

"Kim Legaspi," she said, "and this is Kerry Weaver."

Everyone murmured the appropriate pleasantries as they made their way through the cavernous front hall into the cozy sitting room. Kim helped Kerry seat herself while Mrs. Ryan hovered nearby wringing her hands and saying "oh good heavens" and other such useful things. Finn pulled over a footstool and grabbed a pillow from the sofa for Kerry's leg and he expertly helped Kim to prop it.

Kerry settled in, took a deep breath and Kim saw her slide into social autopilot. A sparkling smile to Gran. "Mrs. Ryan, it's so kind of you to invite us over," she said. "We've heard so much about you from Finn."

Finn, who was perched on the edge of the sofa beside Kim, stiffened and Kim had to stifle a giggle.

"And you two are all he ever talks about when he's home," Mrs. Ryan said, sending her grandson an affectionate, yet slightly barbed look. He grinned in embarrassment and looked at his shoes. Something about this satisfied her and she turned her attention back to Kerry.

"Now what in creation happened to you, dear? You look like you've been through the wringer!"

Kerry took a deep breath. "I had an accident," she said simply.

"An automobile accident?"

Kerry's eyes flicked over to meet Kim's.

"Yes," she said.

"I trust your convalescence is progressing well and that my grandson's visits aren't tiring you out."

"Oh no, Mrs. Ryan. Quite the contrary, actually. Finn has even been helping me with my physiotherapy."

"Well, you've had quite an effect on his schoolwork, Dr. Weaver."

"Oh, please call me Kerry," Kerry said, turning up the voltage on her smile.

"Then you must both call me Maureen," Mrs. Ryan countered. Everyone smiled a lot and Kim thought she might have felt the tension fall a notch.

"Francis, be a good boy and go tell Estelle that our guests are here and not to forget the sandwiches in the icebox."

"Yes, Gran," Finn said. He scurried away towards the kitchen.

"You have a marvelous grandson, Maureen," Kim said. "He's a remarkable little boy."

Maureen Ryan looked at the empty doorway. "Do you really think so?"

Kim's smile faltered slightly. "Yes, I do," she said, uncertainly.

"Well, I ask because Francis told me that you are a psychiatrist, and I wonder what he might have told you."

Kim searched the older woman's lined face, trying to divine where the hell she was going with this. Maureen picked up on it immediately.

"About his mother's suicide," she said, a hard look on her face. "He did tell you about that, didn't he?"

"He mentioned it."

"And does he seem all right to you?"

Kim risked a glance at Kerry before she spoke. "I'm not sure how you mean."

"Does he seem to you like the kind who would take their own life?"

Kim tried not to let her mouth fall open. "I beg your pardon?"

"I am told that these sorts of things can be passed on genetically and that simply being related to people who commit suicide gravely increases your chances of--"

Kim couldn't bear to hear the end of the sentence. "Mrs. Ryan, uh, Maureen, any research on that topic is extremely speculative at best. The act of committing suicide has a complex set of antecedents and no one has come up with a good predictor for it. It's impossible to tell."

"An entire army of psychiatrists was not able to help my daughter-in-law. Maybe that explains why."

"Depression is a difficult illness to treat," Kim said.

Maureen regarded her slyly. "Do you think that Francis is depressed?"

Kim shifted on the sofa. "I would have to conduct a proper assessment and interview with him before I could even --"

"Surely you have some idea. He's at your house four or five hours a day. Aren't you paying any attention to him?"

Kim felt her muscles tense, and she forced herself to breathe. This was for Finn. "I would have to say that when we first met Finn, he seemed unhappy and a little fearful."

"He wasn't sleeping, you know, at the start of the summer," the older woman said and suddenly, the doting grandmother was back. "The boy would hardly eat. We had to literally force him to eat anything. And now..." She looked over at Kerry with an appraising eye and then back at Kim. "Well, now he's sleeping like a baby and eats three squares and as many snacks as Estelle can give him."

Kim smiled slightly. "He does seem happier these days."

The sound of tinkling china interrupted and Estelle and Finn arrived with a teacart laden with a silver tea set that had been polished to a high gleam. Bone china cups, saucers and plates were stacked on a lower tray and in the middle were plates of cookies, cakes, squares and tiny sandwiches.

Maureen smiled like the gracious hostess. "Thank you, Estelle. These are our neighbours, by the way, Dr. Weaver and Dr. Legaspi."

Kim stood to shake the woman's hand and Kerry nodded.

"So you're the ladies that Finn is always talking about. To hear him tell it, you're just about his best friends."

Kerry smiled and put her hand on Finn's shoulder. "Well, we're lucky to have him visit," she said.

Maureen efficiently poured the tea into the dainty cups and Finn delivered them, walking slowly and carefully, to Kim and Kerry. He helped Maureen distribute plates and then brought by the trays of sandwiches and cookies. Kim watched him as he performed his duties. He'd clearly done this before.

When everyone was served his took his cup of tea and plate of cookies and sat beside Kerry.

"Francis, we were just talking about your mother," Maureen said, languidly stirring sugar into her tea.

Finn's face fell slightly and he stopped mid-nibble on a piece of shortbread.

"What about her?" he asked and his voice was small.

"I wonder if you told these nice ladies that your mother was a painter?"

Finn's eyes traveled around the room before he answered. "Uh, no. I didn't."

"A marvelously talented girl," Maureen said to Kerry and Kim. "I always had a sense that her melancholy was more than the average brooding artist suffers, but of course, in the end, we were powerless to help her."

Kerry watched Finn's profile, saw the pain that was welling there.

"Maureen," Kerry said brightly, "I wonder what you think of Finn's latest marks from his tutor."

"Well, we're delighted, of course," she said, choosing a sandwich from the silver tray. "It's what we expect of him, you know. After all, Francis is a Ryan and a lot is going to be expected of him later in life."

"My tutor said that if I keep up the way I've been going that I'll be ahead of some of the kids at Blackburn, Gran," Finn said.

"Well, we'll see about that," Maureen said. "For now, you're going to keep working on your lessons because we won't have the same kind of embarrassment as we did last year. Isn't that right?"

Finn stared down at his teacup. "Yes, ma'am."

Kim stuck another sandwich in her mouth and chewed to keep herself from speaking and willed the time to pass more quickly.

"Finn," Kerry said, "did you tell your grandmother about the science project we're working on?"

Finn brightened a little and nodded. "You know, Gran, about the astronomy and planets and everything?"

"Ah, yes," she said, cradling her teacup in her hands. "He's having his father mail him books from New York on the subject."

"Kerry has a telescope and if Kim goes to Chicago one of these days, she's going to go and get it and bring it back so we can look through it at night on the beach."

Maureen listened attentively to him then raised her eyebrows. "At night on the beach?" she said. "It sounds positively dreadful to me, so I have no doubt that you shall enjoy it immensely."

Finn grinned at her. "You might like it Gran, you never know."

"Francis," she said, taking a sip of her tea, "by the time you get to my age, the only good thing is that you know exactly what you like and dislike."

Everyone chuckled politely.

"Which brings me to the reason for our meeting," Maureen said, placing her saucer and cup down on the low table in front of her. "I felt it was important that we discuss the fact that I am extremely uncomfortable with my grandson spending so much time with two homosexuals."

Kim nearly dropped her teacup. She juggled it to the nearest flat surface and put it down.

Kerry gave the older woman a smile. "I do admire your forthrightness, Maureen. Let's discuss it, shall we?"

Kim wasn't sure who was currently the greater threat to Finn's mental health and well being, Kerry or his Gran, but she did know that this was a conversation that he didn't need to witness.

"Hey, Finn," Kim said suddenly, "Why don't you show me your room? You said I could see your collections and your toys and things."

Finn's eyes were wide and he appeared to be frozen in place. "Okay," he said vacantly and he stood up. He glanced back at Kerry, who gave him an encouraging nod and then he led Kim out of the sitting room.

"Is Dr. Legaspi uncomfortable with this discussion?" Maureen asked.

Kerry shook her head. "No, I think she probably just thought that it was best for Finn if he wasn't involved in the conversation just now."

"I see," Maureen said. "Well, I'll get right to the point. I don't think that it's appropriate for Francis to visit you anymore."

Kerry took a long slow breath. "What exactly is it that you're afraid of, Maureen?"

"I'm afraid of what might happen to him in your care, how his...judgment may be warped. I'm afraid of what sort of deviance he might be exposed to. I'm afraid that he will begin to question the tenets of his faith, which teaches that homosexuality is sinful."

Kerry nodded and felt the aching in her leg intensify. "Do you have any reason to believe that those things have been happening to Finn? Do you feel he's being adversely affected by visiting us?"

"Well, it's impossible to know what diseased seeds are being planted now that will bloom later in life," she said. She stared hard at Kerry. "You must understand. Patrick, Francis's father, is my only child, Dr. Weaver. And Francis is his only child. The hopes of our family rest on the shoulders of this boy."

"And some days, Mrs. Ryan, he feels that weight very sharply."

Maureen Ryan's gaze did not leave Kerry's face. "I do not approve of you or your lifestyle. And I do not want you influencing my grandson."

"Mrs. Ryan, I am not here today to argue theology or morals or ethics with you. I doubt you and I will ever agree on most of those subjects. The only reason that I am here is because Finn is desperately afraid that you're not going to let him spend time with us anymore. I'm not sure what I can say to reassure you beyond what you already know. Kim and I are decent, hardworking people, professionals who devote our time to helping others. We are genuinely fond of your grandson and consequently would never do anything that might in the least way harm him. Since he's been dropping by, he seems happier, and you said yourself he's eating and sleeping again and he's devoted himself to his schoolwork like never before. If that's not enough to prove to you that he benefits from spending time with us, then I don't know what else to say. And although you are clearly a self-righteous, narrow-minded old bat, I think that you honestly do want what's best for your grandson. Because if you really wanted to end Finn's visits to us, you wouldn't have invited us to tea to tell us. You would've just stopped him from coming over."

Maureen Ryan regarded Kerry with a stony expression that gradually softened into something resembling a smile. "I admire your forthrightness as well, Doctor."

Kerry nodded. "Then?"

Maureen eyed her cautiously. "Francis will be allowed to continue visiting you. But I will be watching closely."

"I would be disappointed in you if you weren't," Kerry said. She picked up her teacup. "Now then, I wonder if I could trouble you for more tea?"

Maureen smiled and reached for the teapot.

"What sort of deviance he might be exposed to? Oh Jesus, she actually said that?" Kim said, shaking her head. "God, I can't remember the last time I heard someone use that word. That's a good one."

"You should have stuck around downstairs. The old woman could've come up with a few more for you, I'm sure."

They sat side by side on the deck, looking out at the lake. The glow of the sunset was colouring the horizon and making the water a bottomless azure.

"And you actually called her an old bat?"

"A self-righteous, narrow-minded old bat," Kerry said. "And to tell you the truth, I think she liked it."

Kim shook her head and laughed. "Well, at least Finn can still visit."

"Yeah and hopefully we won't have to go back for tea anytime soon," Kerry said. She shifted in her wheelchair, wincing as she moved.

"Are you sore?" Kim asked.

Kerry nodded and Kim saw the toll the day had taken in her face. She got to her feet. "Need some pain pills?"

Kerry sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Yeah, I do," she said finally.

"I'll be right back," Kim said and she slipped into the house.

Kerry sat watching the oranges and golds swirling slowly together in the eastern sky. Such a beautiful place and she never would have seen it, never would have been here at all today if it hadn't been for that insane giant in the ER that night and her own incalculable bad timing. Karma, fate, destiny, whatever, here she was and it was a lovely sunset. Which would be even lovelier if she wasn't in so much pain all the time.

Inside, she heard the phone ring. She cocked an ear and could just make out the tone of Kim's voice as she greeted the caller. She laughed at little and it sounded like she knew whomever she was talking to well.

Kerry's stomach dropped like a stone. Surely it couldn't be Rachel? But then, why not? She had been nice enough to lend them the place, it would only be natural to phone and check on them, make sure everything was all right.

But would Kim sound like that talking to Rachel? Laughing and sounding so familiar?

She gave her head a shake. What possible right did she have to be jealous, especially considering how she'd let Kim down when she'd needed her. As much as Kerry wanted to point fingers, she'd done her own betraying. In a way, she was no different than Rachel.

Kerry was so absorbed in her mental flagellations that she was surprised, a few minutes later, to look up to see Kim standing beside her, Kerry's pills and a glass of water in hand.

"That was Luka on the phone," Kim said and Kerry wanted to smack her forehead at her own paranoid thoughts.

"Oh," Kerry said, accepting the pain medication and the glass. She tossed the two Percocet into her mouth and sipped. "What did he want?"

"Mainly to know how you were," Kim said, "but he happened to mention that he has a couple of days off and so I invited him to drive up and spend the night tomorrow. I hope that's okay with you," Kim said tentatively.

"Sure," Kerry said and it was. In fact, she sort of looked forward to seeing him.

"You're certain you're up to it?" Kim asked.

"If I'm not, I'm sure he won't mind if I slip away for a nap or something."

"All right," Kim said. "If you're sure." She let herself be pulled back into the hypnotic draw of the waves, down on the shore. "Kerry?" she asked, after a while.

"Yes?"

"Nice work today, with Mrs. Ryan. You did good."

Kerry shrugged and looked at the water. "It was for Finn."

Kim nodded and said nothing.

Although she was in the shade, a fine sweat had broken out on Kerry's face as she methodically raised and lowered the weights. Biceps, triceps, delts and trapezius, three sets of fifteen reps, twice a day and dammit, it was starting to feel good. It got the tension out of her neck and shoulders and it was helping her with the crutches. The main problem there was still her weak leg, but there wasn't much she could do about that except keep the muscles from atrophying any more than they all ready had.

Finn got up from the patio table where he'd been working and came up beside her, leaning against her wheelchair.

"I'm done," he said. "I did the whole page."

"Good for you," Kerry said, switching the weight to the other hand. "Let me just finish doing this set and I'll correct them."

Finn watched her for a moment, then reached down and picked up the other weight. He studied Kerry's form carefully, noting the movement of her forearm as he tried to mimic it. His wrist wobbled with the effort, but he persevered, trying to go as slowly as Kerry.

"You know, maybe I should start doing these with you," he said, straining to repeat the motion and steady his wrist at the same time. "If I got stronger, maybe the big kids at school would leave me alone."

Kerry watched him curl his bicep, saw the childish muscle underneath his skin tense and relax. "Do you get picked on, Finn?"

He let the arm holding the weight drop and he gave her a look. "I'm small for my age and I'm breathing. Of course I get picked on."

Kerry fought back the smile that came. "What do the big kids do?"

He shrugged. "They push me around, take my stuff. One time a couple of them lifted me up and hung me on a hook in the change room. They got in trouble for that. Mostly though, they just call me names."

"Like what?"

He did another slow, methodical curl, his eyes on the weight. "Mostly they call me a sissy fag."

Kerry's eyebrows shot up and when Finn risked a glance at her face, she could see the conflict in his eyes.

"It's not like it's a bad thing, being a fag...or, I mean, like being gay," he said. "It's just that..."

Kerry watched him intently. "It's just that they don't mean it as a nice thing."

"Yeah."

She nodded. She'd spent enough of the past year worrying that someone, somewhere was going to call her a dyke to understand.

"Hey," she said, suddenly, "you know how your tutor wants you to do a book report next?"

Finn's shoulder's sagged. "Yeah," he said.

"Well, I think you should go see if Kim has brought in the mail yet."

Finn gave her a puzzled look.

"Just go check," she said.

He put down the weight and jogged across the deck to the house. He was back, scarcely a minute later with a box.

"Hey, there was a package for me!" he said. "How did you know I would get a package here?"

"Because I'm the one that ordered it," Kerry said. "Hurry up, open it."

He made short order of the packing tape and soon there were white foam peanuts all over the table. He pulled half a dozen books out of the box, one by one.

Kerry wheeled herself closer as he began to inspect the titles. "Now, I got you the first two Harry Potters," Kerry said. "I haven't read them, but Kim has and she says they're great. If you like them, we can get the next two. And then there's two Hardy Boys because when I was your age, I read those and I thought they were pretty good. And these two, they're kind of older. They're the first two books of the Chronicles of Narnia. There are seven books in all, but I thought we'd start with these. My mom read them to me when I was little."

Finn looked over at her. "Really?"

Kerry nodded. "It took us almost two years to read all of them, but I loved every minute."

"What are they about?"

"They're about a magical land that girls and boys can visit sometimes and where they grow up to be kings and queens and have adventures. There's a wonderful lion in it who is very wise and powerful."

Finn listened with wide eyes. "That sounds cool."

Kerry cast a glance at the books on the table. "I think there should be a couple more in there," she said. Finn rummaged around in the packing and pulled out two more books -- The Eyewitness Guide to Astronomy and A Kid's Guide to the Night Sky.

Finn's mouth fell open as he stared at the covers, then he quickly turned and threw his arms around Kerry's neck and hugged her fiercely.

"Thank you, Kerry! These are so great! All of them! Thank you so much!"

"You're welcome," Kerry said, but she had a hard time finding her voice over the lump that was forming in her throat. "I'm really glad you like them."

Finn studied each of the covers again with intense concentration, then pulled The Magician's Nephew off the table.

"Could we start now?" he asked, holding the book as if it were made of very precious material.

"Well, sure," Kerry said. "You can read it any time you like, Finn. They're yours."

"No, I mean, could you read it to me? Please? I'll do another book for my book report, maybe Harry Potter, but could you read this one to me?"

Kerry paused, struck by the look in his eyes. A look no one should have, least of all a child. Loneliness.

"I would love to read it to you," she said. "You pull your chair up with mine here and you can follow along if you want."

Finn scurried to carry out her suggestion, then snuggled up close to her wheelchair and waited while she opened the book.

"Chapter One, The Wrong Door," Kerry read. "This is a story about something that happened long ago, when your grandfather was a child. It is a very important story because it shows how all the comings and goings between our own world and the land of Narnia first began..."

Finn leaned on the arm of Kerry's wheelchair and listened.

Kim heard a car door slam and she twisted around in her chair to peer out the window. Luka was standing beside a rented Ford Taurus, stretching his arms and back and looking around at the yard and house. Kim smiled and turned off her computer.

He had the trunk open and was unloading a box of groceries when he spotted Kim coming out the front door.

"Oh, good, I do have the right place," he said, with a grin.

"Yes you do," Kim said. "How was your drive?"

"It was wonderful," he said, pulling out an overnight bag and placing it on the gravel driveway. "Very peaceful and quiet. Unfortunately, I spoiled it by turning on one of those radio stations where they talk to people on the telephone."

"Oh," Kim said. "A little aggravating?"

He rolled his eyes theatrically. "It was like bamboo under the fingernails! I can't believe that people in this country are really that... that..."

"Bigoted? Racist? Republican? Am I getting close?"

"All of those things! I found myself doing sixty miles per hour through a little village that the highway went through, yelling at the radio at the top of my lungs," Luka said, getting a cooler out of the trunk. "And then I remembered that I was on a holiday and I turned the radio off."

Kim laughed. "Good choice," she said. She gestured at the collection of bags and boxes at Luka's feet. "What is all this stuff? I told you just to bring a bathing suit."

"Oh, I brought that too," he said, seriously. "These are just some other things I thought we might need. A few groceries in case you were low and also some beer." He checked items off on his fingers as he spoke. "And, in the cooler are six steaks. I went to the butcher near Abby's apartment and asked him for something really good for a barbecue."

"Wow," Kim said, picking up the box of groceries. "It looks like we're all set."

"How is Kerry today? Is it all right that I came? She won't be too tired for a visitor?"

"Are you kidding? I think she's so sick of looking at my face that if Romano dropped by, she'd invite him to stay a week."

Luka raised a skeptical eyebrow at that thought.

"Seriously," Kim said, "she's holding her own these days and I know she's looking forward to your visit."

Luka picked up the rest of his things and followed her up the driveway. "And how are you doing, Kim?" he asked.

She glanced over at him, smiled and ducked her head. "I'm doing all right, I guess. Coping fairly well with the patient."

Luka laughed. "Has her mood improved somewhat?"

Kim shrugged. "She still has her moments."

"Well then," Luka said with a big grin, "it sounds to me like she's back to her old self."

Kim laughed and nudged open the front door with her hip. "You know, you might be right."

Kim closed the door to the deck and sighed at the feeling of cool air against her skin. What an incredible luxury, she thought as she headed to the kitchen, a beach house with central air. Well, today, she was grateful for it. Even wearing nothing more than a bathing suit and a straw hat, she was slowly baking out in the sun. Of course, she had been chasing a Frisbee all over the beach, playing with Finn and Luka. And that got to be thirsty fun after a while, so she'd volunteered to go get another round of cold drinks, leaving Finn to explain the finer points of Frisbee throwing to his confused Croatian student.

Kim almost veered to Kerry's bedroom door to check on her, then at the last moment, decided against it. If she checked and Kerry was sleeping, she might wake her up. And if she checked and Kerry was awake, Kerry would tell her to stop hovering. She shook her head as she got plastic glasses out and lined them up on the counter. This was one she couldn't win and her father had always told her to choose her battles carefully. That and something about rotating her tires, but the former had really served her better, she thought.

She was pouring Finn's Kool-Aid (and what on earth was with this neon blue stuff anyway?) when she heard the crash. It could only have come from Kerry's room.

Kim sprinted around the counter and across the living room to Kerry's bedroom and burst in to find Kerry half-sprawled across the bedside table, a broken lamp on the floor beside her.

"I'm all right, I'm all right!" Kerry said before Kim could even get to her. She was still standing, her weight on her weak leg, her cast suspended inches above the floor.

"What happened?" Kim asked, quickly steadying the smaller woman. "Did you hurt yourself?"

"No, I'm fine," Kerry said. I was trying to get up and get my crutches and I lost my balance." She nodded towards the mangled lamp. "I hope Rachel wasn't too fond of that."

"Oh don't worry about that," Kim said, helping Kerry to move backwards to sit on the bed. "Hang on, I'll get your chair." Kim hurried to the living room. "You know, you still shouldn't try to get up by yourself." She returned wheeling the chair in front of her. "You could hurt yourself."

"Not to mention the furniture," Kerry said flatly.

Kim chuckled as she helped Kerry seat herself on the padded seat. "I'm serious, Ker. You should've called me or something."

Kerry sighed, in spite of herself. "Kim, you still have to help me undress and get into the tub, hell you nearly have to bathe me. You make all my meals. Every time I stand up or walk, you have to help me. I can't even pee without your help."

Kim crossed her arms and regarded Kerry with a puzzled look. "Your point?"

Kerry shook her head and sighed again. "I have no point, I suppose. Other than the fact that I feel bad being such a burden on you." She glanced at Kim's face then looked away. "Especially..."

Kim waited. "Especially, what, Kerry?"

The front door slammed and was followed by Finn's voice. "Hey you guys, aren't you coming down to the beach?"

Kim tried to squeeze the words out of Kerry with her most intimidating look, but Kerry's grabbed the escape.

"We're in the bedroom, Finn," she called.

He appeared at the door, his face pink from the sun. "You've got to see Luka do his catching the Frisbee behind the back trick. It is awesome."

"Okay, we'll be right there," Kim said. "Your Kool-Aid is on the counter."

"And put some more sun block on, you're getting burned," Kerry added as she started to push herself out of the bedroom.

"Kerry," Kim said, and the annoyance and the reproach in her voice made Kerry stop.

"We can talk about it later," Kerry said. "I want to visit with Luka."

Kim sighed and followed her out of the room.

Section Four

Kerry heard Luka slip out of the house and close the door. He settled his frame into a lawn chair and gazed out at the early evening sky for a few moments.

"Kim says that dinner will be in about an hour and also that if you want some more pain medication, she can send it out."

Kerry chuckled, never taking her eyes off the horizon. "I'm fine," she said.

"She takes very good care of you," Luka remarked.

Kerry looked at her lap, suddenly. "Yes, she does," she said.

Luka noted the change in her and decided to let it go. For now, anyway. "It's going to be a beautiful sunset," he said.

Kerry nodded. "I've been watching it every night since we've come up here and I don't seem to get tired of it."

Luka looked around, saw what he was looking for and stood up. He grabbed the blanket that Kim had left for Kerry in case she got cool and he jogged across the deck and down towards the shore, where he laid it out, carefully smoothing down all the corners.

Kerry watched him jog back. He grabbed his Corona from the patio table, handed it to Kerry and said, "I think you should see the sunset from the beach, tonight."

Before she could say a word, he'd helped her stand on her good leg and had scooped her up and was striding across the sand towards the blanket.

"Luka, you don't have to..."

"It would be a tragedy not to see at least one sunset from here on the sand," he said, laying her down gently on the blanket. He sat down beside her, stretching his long legs out and leaning back on his hands. He looked around and nodded his approval. "Much better," he said, as he accepted his beer bottle back from her.

"What happened to Finn?" Kerry asked.

Luka took a pull on his beer. "He is chopping things to make a salad under Kim's supervision and there is even talk of her teaching him to make...what did she call it...a vinaigrette?"

"Oh, so he can stay for supper?"

"Yes, Kim told me she phoned his grandmother and everything is okay." He looked at Kerry. "Kim also told me about his mother and about your meeting with the matriarch herself."

"He's a good boy," Kerry said.

"He's certainly attached to you," Luka said.

She gave him a sideways glance. "I guess so, yeah. I think it's been sort of...well, actually sort of good for me to have him around. It's kept me from being so self-absorbed."

Luka laughed and looked down at his hands which were laced around the neck of his beer bottle. "Kids are especially good at that."

Kerry studied his face. Such a sweet man. Sweet and handsome and so haunted, still.

"So how are you really doing, Kerry?" he asked.

She arched a brow. "Don't tell me that you drove all the way up here just to check up on me?"

He shrugged and grinned. "Can't a friend check up on another friend?"

Kerry studied the sky for a while and let his question become rhetorical. Eventually she took a deep breath and spoke. "My ribs are healing well and as you can see the plastics guy did a great job. I'm still sore, but it's getting better. I have good days and bad days with the leg but overall it's improving." She picked up a handful of sand and let it trickle slowly out of her hand.

Luka sipped his beer. "What about your mood?"

She shrugged. "I've felt a little depressed here and there but Finn's helped a lot. It's nothing I can't handle."

Luka waited, watched her play with the sand. "And Kim?"

"Kim's fine, I guess," Kerry said. "She's getting a lot of work done on her publications."

"No, I meant, how are you and Kim?"

Kerry's eyes shot up to meet his and froze there for a long moment. "I honestly don't know," she said finally. "Mostly right now, I think I must be a great burden to her."

Luka looked up at the house then over at Kerry. "She looks very happy to me."

"I think she feels...an obligation to me."

"I'm sure she feels something, but I doubt it's an obligation."

Kerry snuck a peek at his profile, then returned her gaze to the slowly trickling sand.

"Kim doesn't strike me as the type of person who does things just because they are expected," he said. "She's a grown up, Kerry. If she's here, it's because she wants to be here, not because she feels guilty or whatever."

"She's missing a lot of work --"

"And is clearly enjoying herself here at the beach, with Finn. With you. She's had a few very stressful months, too, Kerry. Maybe she needed a vacation."

Kerry gave him a look that was at once hopeful and doubtful. She picked up another handful of soft, fine sand, while Luka sipped on his beer.

"Whatever the case, Kerry," he said, "she's here with you. And that's what matters." He looked out at the pink tinted sky. "Believe me, that's what matters."

The bonfire flames were dying down and Kerry could see that Finn's eyelids were drooping, too. He sat beside her lawn chair, on the sand and every so often, he leaned his head against her knee as he nodded off for the briefest moments. The headache she'd had since late afternoon had dulled a little and she laughed at herself for thinking that it hurt less when Finn was sleeping against her leg.

Kim and Luka were up at the house, doing the last of the dishes, and she could see them clearly through the huge windows overlooking the deck. It was still hot and Kim had left her bathing suit on and just wrapped an azure and black sarong around her waist at dinnertime. Kerry watched her now, breezing back and forth in the kitchen, laughing with Luka, looking so indescribably beautiful that Kerry's heart physically ached in her chest.

"Kerry?" Finn's quiet voice gently ended her reverie.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Did you and Kim have a fight?"

He might as well have slapped her. "What do you mean?"

"Well, did you guys argue or break up or something?" He wiggled around to face her, kneeling in the sand.

"Oh," she said, "that kind of fight." She pursed her lips and thought, trying to see where this was going. "Well, kind of, I guess. A few months ago."

"Did you break up?"

Kerry sighed and debated whether or not to answer. One look at Finn's face and she knew there was no other option. She nodded.

"Aren't you going to make up again?" His words were packed with hurt and confusion and fear. His world was coming apart again and Kerry couldn't bear being the cause of that.

"I honestly don't know, Finn. Sometimes I hope we will, but I just don't know," Kerry said. She leaned forward and touched his face. "Why are you asking me this? How did you know we'd had an argument?"

"Well, because you're always so polite to each other, like you don't want to make the other mad. And I never see you kissing and hugging and stuff like that. So I figured you'd had a fight or something."

Kerry nodded. How could things be so clear to you when you were only nine?

"Does Kim want to get back together," he asked, "because I think she does."

"Why do you think that?" Kerry asked.

"Finn? Finn! I'm going to drive you home now!" Kim's voice, rose over the night waves. Finn turned towards the sound and it struck Kerry yet again how much he looked like Kim. Her colouring, her eyes, delicate bones.

"I have to go," he said, getting wearily to his feet. "Thanks for letting me stay for dinner."

"Thanks for staying," Kerry said and she impulsively took his hand in hers and held it a moment. "You're quite a kid, Finn Ryan."

He grinned. "Goodness in our hearts, strength in our limbs and truth on our lips," he said.

Kerry's smile was tinted with puzzlement. "Where did you hear that?"

"My mom made me memorize it," he said. "It's the motto of Finn Mac Cool and the Fianna, the bravest warriors and finest poets in Ireland. She said it was a good motto to have."

"Goodness in our hearts, strength in our limbs..." Kerry began.

"And truth on our lips," Finn concluded. "I gotta go. Thanks for all the stuff today, Kerry. I had a really good time." He hugged her quickly and then raced across the sand to the house.

Kerry sat and stared blankly into the dying flames, her smile slowly fading.

Kim heard the quiet tapping on the glass of the front door and looked up from her notes. Finn's face was pressed to the glass, his hair tousled by the wind. She smiled and motioned for him to come in.

"Hi," he whispered as he closed the door behind him.

"You don't have to whisper, she's not asleep," Kim said. "She's just resting."

"Oh," he said and he looked pleased. "Is Luka gone now?"

Kim nodded. "He left at lunch time. But he said to tell you he's coming back in a few weeks so you can teach him more Frisbee tricks."

"Cool," Finn said. "He's really nice. I like him. He should have kids of his own."

Kim smiled and nodded. "You're right. He should."

"Is it okay if I go and see her now?"

"Actually, I'll go with you, to see if she needs anything."

Kerry was propped up on the bed, her leg supported by pillows. A magazine sat on her lap, ignored.

"Look who's here," Kim said as they entered the huge master bedroom.

"Hey, Finn," Kerry said and even Finn could hear the weariness in her voice.

"Hey," he said, crawling up onto the bed. "You're still not feeling very good, are you?"

"Oh, I'm just a little tired," Kerry said. Kim watched her while she spoke to the boy and noticed that she was managing to look both flushed and pale at the same time.

"How's the head?" Kim asked.

"I'll have some more ibuprofen if you're offering," she said.

Kim nodded and headed to the kitchen for meds and water to wash them down with.

"Finn, I'm really sorry but I don't think I'm feeling up to reading to you today. I'm sure I'll feel much better tomorrow and we can read then."

"I thought we could do something different today," he said, holding up volume one of Harry Potter. "How about I read to you?"

Kerry smiled. "That would be nice."

He bounced his way to the headboard and arranged some more pillows for himself, then reclined into them. He leaned towards Kerry so that she could see the pictures while he read.

"Chapter one, The Boy Who Lived," Finn read. "Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Pr...Prr..."

"Privet."

"...Privet Drive were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd ex...exp...expect to be in...in.."

"Involved."

"...involved in anything strange...."

Kim stopped in the doorway, pills and glass in hand and smiled at the two of them, curled up side by side on the pillows, gazing intently at the book. She glanced at her watch. She was giving it two more hours and then she was going to begin her campaign to convince Kerry that she most likely had an infection at the point of her fracture and that she needed to go to the hospital to have the cast broken and the leg recast. And to probably have a great big dose of IV antibiotics. But she'd been through such hell for weeks and right now, lying in bed and having a little boy read Harry Potter to you was probably the best medicine of all. She summoned up a smile and headed into the bedroom.

The Beaver Point District Hospital was small. Very small. If this was not amply illustrated by the fact that the nurse at the front desk greeted each incoming patient with great familiarity and by name, it was further highlighted by the "emergency department," which consisted of, as far as Kerry could see, two ancient gurneys separated by a curtain and one small room with a large observation window for "traumas." Kerry figured the place probably had a defibrillator that ran on double A batteries, and she was suddenly very grateful that she just needed a new cast and a couple shots of antibiotics.

The wait was mercifully short though and within a few minutes Kerry was in a hospital gown in the "trauma" room -- since no one was using it and it afforded a little more privacy than a curtained of stretcher. Her blood was taken, her temperature, pulse and blood pressure checked and before she knew it, the doctor on call was breezing in. He turned out to be a family doctor from Chicago, on a locum, while the local doctor vacationed in Arizona, with his grandkids. Dr. Fisher looked youthful and athletic and he had a way of speaking and moving slowly and deliberately that made it seem that he was concentrating intently. He also seemed much more up to date than their surroundings, which made Kerry relax a little.

Kim sat at the head of Kerry's bed, watching Dr. Fisher maneuver the Stryker saw and ably remove Kerry's old cast. All three of them craned their necks to get a glimpse of Kerry's leg. The center of the wound was an angry red and the smell of diseased tissue wafted up.

"Yup, you've got yourself one heck of an infection," the young doctor said. "We'll treat this with a topical, then get you hooked up to some IV antibiotics and some anti-inflammatories to hopefully get that swelling down. We'll keep it splinted tonight and recast it tomorrow morning and in a day or two you'll be good as new." He scribbled on her chart as he spoke. "Then in two weeks, I'm going to get you to come back so we can x-ray it, see how the bone is healing. At that point, I'll be able to tell you whether or not your football playing days are over." He smiled an infectious, charming smile, but it was lost on Kerry.

"I don't want to stay overnight. Recast it now and I'll do the IV at home," she said and Kim could hear how dangerously close to tears Kerry was.

Kim's eyes swiveled back to the doctor, waiting for his response.

"Dr. Weaver," he said in a remarkably respectful tone, "these are the results of your labs and your vital signs." He handed her the chart to inspect. "Look particularly at your temperature and your white blood cells. You have a serious infection, ma'am, and you need to be observed overnight. Now would you send a patient with those symptoms home or would you admit them?"

He managed to sound concerned, sensible and deferent all at the same time and Kim had to bite her lip to keep from smiling. Beside her, Kerry flipped pages in her chart and read the lab results. Finally she shook her head wearily and handed him back the metal clipboard. "As much as I hate to say it, yes, this patient needs to be observed overnight. You're right."

"I'm glad you agree," he said and he stood up. "I'm going to go and make arrangements for a bed for you, but I wonder if you would give some thought to your preferred course of treatment as far as antibiotics go. It's not my area of expertise and I could go and look it up, but I think I'd rather have your opinion."

Kerry nodded. "Ceftriaxone. One gram IV over six hours times four, not to exceed four grams per day. It's the best choice for this particular case."

"Why is that?"

"It's a broad spectrum antibiotic for gram-negatives. You can do a stain if you want, but I can tell you it's gram-negative."

He scribbled a note to himself and then hurried off to the admit desk to give instructions to the nurse.

Kerry looked over at Kim, who was smiling sympathetically at her.

"I know you don't want to stay," Kim said, pushing Kerry's bangs back up off her face. "But it's probably best."

Kerry looked away and nodded. Kim saw the pool of tears welling in her eyes and she sat down on the side of the bed and took Kerry's hand. Her touch released the floodgates and Kerry started to sob.

"I know, I know," Kim said softly. "But this is going to make you feel better, Ker and it will help your leg to heal. You just have to get through this little part and then you're going to feel better. You're just really sick right now and it's making you feel upset."

Kerry tried to meet Kim's eyes, but it made her cry harder. She wrapped her arms around herself to try to hold the tears in, to staunch the flood of hiccupping sobs that were escaping her.

Kim felt her own eyes begin to sting with tears at the sight of her. She reached over and gathered the tiny woman in her arms and held her tightly, her lips close to Kerry's ear, whispering soothing words, rocking her, riding out the waves of sobs.

"It's going to be all right, Kerry, I promise," Kim said, silently marveling at the heat rolling off Kerry's tiny frame. Her fever was still very high.

"No, it's not going to be all right," Kerry said, pulling herself away to look through her tears at Kim. "Look at my leg! Look at it, Kim! No matter how well the fracture heals, no matter how much physiotherapy I do for it, it's never going to be the same again! I'm 42 years old, I have the beginning stages of osteoporosis which is why it broke in the first goddam place, and no matter what I do, it's not ever going to be as strong as it was before. And Kim, that's my good leg! It was the strong one. It was the one that always helped to make up for the weaker one and now it's going to be useless."

"It's not going to be useless, Kerry," Kim said gently. "It's healing well and I'm sure that --"

"If it's not strong enough to compensate for my other leg, then it's useless to me. Don't you understand that?"

Kim stared at Kerry's flushed, tear stained face and realized she'd never seen her as afraid as she was this very moment.

"I think I'm starting to understand," Kim said.

Kerry sank back against the gurney, swiping at the tears on her face. She glanced over at Kim. Kim tried to smile and opened her arms again. Kerry hesitated, then burrowed her way back into them.

Kim held her tightly. It was all she could think to do.

There was a God, Kerry decided later that day, when the nurse wheeled her, and her IV pole, into her own -- private -- room. If she'd had to share a double or, heaven help us all, a quad, that would've been it. Cast or no cast, she'd have crawled back to the house on beach. She'd had about all she could take.

The nurse helped her to get up out of the chair and ease herself onto the bed, watching that nothing disturbed her splinted leg. She was the same nurse who had been working the desk of the ER when they'd arrived. Kerry wondered if she also cooked the meals and read the x-rays, since this place was so small.

"Now there you go, dear, watch you don't hit your leg on something, now," the older woman said. "You don't need that now, do you?"

Kerry shook her head as she lowered her leg gingerly down to the surface of the bed.

"My husband broke his leg a few years back," the nurse was saying as she fussed with Kerry's pillows and the rate of the IV drip. "Had to be in traction for weeks with the pulleys and weights and the whole nine yards. Well every single time someone came into the room, they would bump into the bed and he would just holler! He said it hurt something fierce." She laughed at the memory and Kerry began to sincerely wish she would leave.

"These antibiotics are going to fix you right up, Dr. Weaver, never you mind," she said. "You'll be up and around again in no time." She fluffed extra pillows and delicately propped Kerry's leg on the fluffy mound. "Now, supper has already been served, but I know I could rustle you up something down there. My friend Edna is in charge of the kitchen and she makes the best homemade soup you've ever tasted. I'll bet there's some leftover. Or I could fix you up a sandwich. How does that sound to you?"

Despite it all, Kerry was hungry and it was the only way she was going to get some supper. "That sounds lovely -- uh--"

"Anita. Anita Rawlings," she said with a big friendly smile.

Kerry nodded. "That would be wonderful, Anita. Thank you."

Anita started to leave, her crepe shoes making no sound, then she turned back and regarded Kerry again. "Now, will your partner be coming back later on? Because she's probably going to be hungry too and it would be no trouble at all to make her a little something at the same time."

"I'm sorry," Kerry said, puzzled. "My who?"

Anita's smile faded slightly. "Your partner? That lady who came in with you -- the one with that beautiful hair?"

"Oh," Kerry said. "No, she won't be coming back tonight."

Anita studied Kerry's expression for a moment. "I've said something wrong, now, haven't I? I'm afraid we're not very sophisticated here, after all it's just Beaver Point...is partner the wrong word to use? Should I have said...wife? Or maybe girlfriend?"

Kerry couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry. Two more minutes of this, though and she was fairly certain she would end up doing both at once.

"Well, I suppose all of those terms are correct, Anita, but Kim is not my partner. We're not...uh, together."

Light dawned on Anita's face and she nodded, the figurative light bulb going on. "Oh, I see," she said. "Well, I just thought...she filled out all your forms and then you know, the way she was... it's just that you seemed very close is all." She looked suddenly pensive. "You know...you seemed to make such a nice couple."

Kerry half-nodded, a wilting smile on her face.

"Well, I'll get you some supper," Anita said brightly. "You just sit tight, Dr. Weaver and if you need anything at all, just use your call button and Sandra or Gloria will be here in a jiffy."

Kerry sank back into the pillows and watched her hurry down the hall, presumably towards the kitchen. She rolled her head to one side, spotted the call button and wondered if it was too early to ask for Percocet. A lot of it.

Kim glanced out the front windows and saw that nothing had changed. The rain hammered down on the deck relentlessly. It had been raining since before dawn and the steady drum roll that beat down on the roof showed no sign of even slowing.

Twilight had descended inside the house, even though it was only early afternoon and Kim and Finn sat across from each other at the dining room table, huddled in the glow of the hanging lamp.

Finn absently picked up a cheese doodle from the small pile in front of him and munched on it while he considered the cards in his hand.

"I'll take two," he said to Kim and he slid the discarded cards across the table to her, face down. She dealt herself three new cards, then slid two more back across to him.

"Five," he said, and five greasy orange cheese snacks joined the mound in the middle of the table.

Kim raised an eyebrow at him. "You're such a bluffer, Finn Ryan and I'm not falling for that again," she said. "I'll see your five, and raise you five more, you little shark."

Finn smirked at her and anteed up.

"Okay, what do I do now?" he asked.

"You can raise the bet or you can call," Kim said.

"Okay. I call."

Kim spread her cards out on the tabletop. "Full house," she said with a smile.

Finn leaned forward and inspected them, then nodded.

"What have you got, pardner?" Kim asked.

He put his cards down on the table, exposing a number of face cards. All of the same suit. "What do you call that one with all the king and queen guys when they're all like hearts or something?"

"Son of a --"

"What? Is that bad?"

Kim laughed. "No, it's not bad. It's called a royal flush."

"Is that higher?" he asked hopefully.

Kim shook her head in amazement. "Oh yeah, it's higher."

Finn grinned triumphantly and pulled the mound of snacks towards himself.

Just then, Kerry's bedroom door opened and she wheeled herself out towards the living room.

Kim and Finn both grabbed a fistful of discarded playing cards.

"Okay, so, uh, do you have any fours?" Kim said.

"No. Go fish."

Kim found a card amidst the cheese doodles and picked it up. "Hey Ker, did you have a good nap?"

"As a matter of fact, I did," Kerry said, "and for the record, you two can just knock it off because I know you've been teaching him to play poker since I was in the hospital."

Kim and Finn exchanged guilty looks.

"Oh come on, Kerry, it's not like I'm taking him to Vegas and teaching him to count cards."

"I'm sure that will be next," Kerry said, rolling up to the dining room table.

"What's counting cards?" Finn asked. "How do you do that?"

"See?" Kerry said.

Kim rolled her eyes. "I can tell you're feeling better," she said.

"And," Kerry continued, ignoring Kim completely, "I'm sure his grandmother would be delighted to know that the fallen women next door are now teaching her grandson to gamble."

Finn looked back and forth between them. "Who fell? Did somebody fall?"

"All right, if you're so strongly opposed to card games, what do you suggest we play?" Kim asked.

"There's a whole cupboard full of games behind you there, in the sideboard. See what's there," Kerry said.

"All righty." Kim turned her chair around, opened the cupboard door and peered in. "Snakes and Ladders?" she said.

"Boring!" Finn said.

"Okay, how about Trivial Pursuit?"

"What's that?" Finn asked.

"Never mind, I don't think it's really your thing, they don't have a section on Celtic mythology," Kim said. She rummaged deeper. "Oh, wait a minute, how about chess?"

"Oh, chess!" Kerry said. "That's a good idea."

Kim chuckled at Kerry as she laid out the board and opened the box of chess pieces. "I thought you might approve."

"Finn, do you know how to play?" Kerry asked.

Finn averted his eyes, suddenly quiet. "I don't want to play," he said softly.

"It's not that hard, really," Kerry said, "once you know how the men move. We could play on the same side at first."

"I don't want to play," he said again.

Kim paused, black bishop in hand, and looked up at Finn. There was something in his tone.

"Oh come on," Kerry said. "It's really a great game."

"Ker," Kim said quietly, her eyes on Finn.

"You know, if you haven't tried it, you don't --"

"I said I don't want to play!" Finn shouted. Hot tears sprang to his eyes and he jumped to his feet. "It's a stupid game and I hate it! I'm never going to play it again!" He ran across the living room and out onto the deck before Kerry could find her voice.

Kerry looked over at Kim, her mouth open in shock. "What just happened? What did I say? Did I say something wrong?"

Kim stood up to peer out at the tiny figure sitting on the steps down to the patio, huddling in the rain. "I think we hit a landmine," she said.

Kerry wheeled herself towards the door. "He's upset. I should talk to him."

"No, Kerry, wait. It's pouring, you'll get your cast wet. Let me go."

Kim stepped soundlessly through the door, pulling on her sweatshirt hood as she went. She made her way across the deck to the steps and sat down near Finn without saying a word.

The lake was the colour of wet cement, the sky not much brighter and rain pelted down without respite. She wondered if maybe she should have just worn her bathing suit to come out here.

"I'm sorry," Finn said and he sniffed.

"Sorry?" Kim asked. "For what?"

"I was rude," he said. "I shouldn't have yelled."

"Sometimes when people are angry, they yell."

Finn wiped his nose on his t-shirt sleeve. "It's just -- I don't like to play chess anymore."

Kim nodded. "Yeah, I got that. And that's okay. You don't have to if you don't want to." She studied his face, felt rain trickling down her legs and waited.

"It makes me sad."

"I see," Kim said. "Tell you what -- I promise that we won't try to make you play okay?"

"Okay." He peeked at Kim's face. "Is Kerry mad?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, no! No one's mad at you, Finn."

"Gran gets really mad if I yell," he said. "She says it's bad manners. I'm not supposed to be rude."

Or run or play or make a mess or mourn or do any of the things that kids are supposed to do, Kim thought. "Well, we're not mad, so don't worry about that, okay? If you didn't want to play, then we're glad you told us." She slicked his wet bangs back off his forehead. "Kerry and I didn't mean to make you sad, though. We didn't know that chess made you sad."

Finn watched the water trickling down his bare arms. "My mom taught me to play chess when I was little. We played it all the time together. I was getting pretty good at it too and she said that we could maybe enter a tournament for kids and everything and I was really excited, but --"

Kim held her breath and waited. She couldn't tell his tears from the raindrops running down his cheeks.

"But then she killed herself."

Kim put a hand on his back. "You must have felt pretty scared and sad," she said.

He hugged himself and rocked a little, tears coming harder. "And lonely," he said. "She left me all alone, Kim! She didn't -- she never even thought about me!"

He reached for Kim and she pulled the small boy into her lap, encircled him with her arms.

"Sometimes I wish she would've taken me with her," he said, face pressed to Kim's chest. "At least then I wouldn't always feel so a-alone."

Kim rocked him and let him cry.

The rain poured down without end.

Kim lowered the newspaper she was reading just enough to peer over at Kerry. The petite redhead was still staring down the beach, towards the Ryan house, with a worried expression on her face.

"Kerry, I'm sure he's fine," Kim said, lowering the paper to her lap.

"He usually drops by now," Kerry said, scanning the beach. "I hope he's okay." She turned to look at Kim. "Are you sure he was all right when you dropped him off last night?"

Kim suppressed a sigh. "I told you, Ker, he was calm and very tired. He needed a good sleep and dry clothes more than anything."

"But was he okay?"

Kim folded the paper and put it down on the table. "Kerry, he's not going to be okay for quite some time. He's nine years old and he's just beginning to mourn the death of his mother. It's going to take a while to work through that." Kim glanced up the beach at the Ryan estate. "Especially while he's still in the clutches of that banshee who is disguised as his grandmother."

Kerry smiled absently at Kim's choice of words, then looked out at the water and sighed. "Maybe we should call."

Kim thought about banging her head on the table. "He'll come when he wants to come. He may even still be asleep. He was really exhausted last night."

Kerry let her head fall back in exasperation and looked up at the sky. It looked bluer and cleaner than before, as if yesterday's torrential rain had washed away the signs of wear that had been there.

"We're not doing enough," Kerry said.

Kim put her newspaper back down. "We're doing everything we can, Kerry. He doesn't belong to us. There's only so much we can do."

Kerry stared out at the water again and was silent. Kim waited, then picked up her newspaper. She had just started to roll her eyes at George W.'s most recent foreign policy debacle when she felt Kerry's eyes on her again. She lowered the paper.

"I just think we could be doing more," Kerry said softly.

Kim reached across the table and took Kerry's hand in hers. "I know you do," she said. "But I think that --"

"Morning, ladies!" Roger's voice rang out across the deck and both women turned. He was already climbing up the steps of the deck, the waves and breeze having drowned out the sound of his arrival.

"Good morning, Roger," Kim said with a smile. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

Roger's reply was lost as Kim felt Kerry's hand slip quickly out from under her own. Startled, she turned to look at Kerry, whose face was impassive.

"...so I'll just climb up and a have a look if you don't mind." Roger was gesturing towards the roof.

"Sure, go ahead," Kerry said. "Can we offer you some coffee?"

"Thank you kindly ma'am, that would be lovely," he said. "I'll just go and get the ladder off the truck." He headed back the way he came.

Kim got up and started clearing the dishes.

"I'm going to sit out a while longer," Kerry said.

Kim nodded. "Sure," she said and headed for the house.

Kerry sat on the deck watching Roger clamber up and down the ladder carrying pieces of eaves trough. She scanned the beach for Finn and wondered if he was okay. "Kim tells me that you have a regular visitor," Roger said as he stretched his tape measure across a piece of white plastic trough.

"Yeah, do you know Finn?" Kerry asked.

"Well, we mostly know about him. His family is pretty big news around here."

"They're pretty wealthy, aren't they?"

Roger nodded. "Oh my, yes," he said. "Mr. Ryan, Finn's grandfather, manufactures plastics. There's a huge family fortune, I imagine." He marked a spot on the trough with his pencil. "Poor little guy, though," he continued, "what with his mom taking her life and all."

"Yeah, he's told us about that," Kerry said. "He said it was almost two years ago."

Roger took off his cap and scratched his forehead. "Yeah, that'd be about right. Sad, sad thing. Threw herself in front of one of those el trains you have in Chicago. Such a pretty young thing, too. Finn favours her."

Kerry watched him saw a long piece of trough that was propped on two sawhorses.

"Do you know Mrs. Ryan, his grandmother?" Kerry asked.

"Again, only be reputation," he said. "My wife works at the bakery in town and she said she's come in a few times. Very specific about what she wants, but polite and all."

Kerry raised an eyebrow. That was one description, she supposed.

"So now both of you girls are doctors, I'm told," he said, rooting around in his toolbox.

"That's right," Kerry said.

"Are you both psychiatrists?"

"No, just Kim. I work in the emergency room."

"Well now," Roger said as he stood up with a power saw in his hands. "So if I was planning on having a heart attack, or cutting off my thumb..."

"Then I'd be the person you'd want to see," Kerry said. "Although I do advise against either of those activities."

Roger chuckled and searched around for his carpenter's pencil again, eventually finding it behind his ear.

"How long have you two been together?" he said, motioning towards the house with his head.

Kerry felt a hot blush that had nothing to do with the sun.

"Pardon?" she said for lack of any alternative.

"You and Kim," he said with a big, friendly smile. "I'm wondering how long you two have been together?"

Kerry stared at him blankly, mental doors slamming decisively shut.

"Uh, actually, we're-- we're not a couple, Roger," she said. "Why -- what would make you think that -- that we were a couple?"

The colour was draining out of Roger's face as Kerry stuttered and stammered.

"I'm very sorry, Kerry," he said. "I just went and presumed that if you girls were friends of Rachel's -- I didn't mean to -- well, gosh, Kerry, my apologies."

Kerry started to speak, then thought better of it. "Don't worry about it, Roger. It's not a problem." She started to wheel herself towards the door. "Excuse me, I've got to get out of the sun for a while."

Kerry pushed the wheels hard, propelling the chair at quite a clip across the living room.

"Hey, hey!" Kim called from the dining room table. "There's a speed limit in here, lady!"

Kerry slammed to a stop. "Do I look like a lesbian?"

Kim cocked her head, a puzzled expression on her face. "I beg your pardon?"

"I mean, is there something about me that tells people that I'm a lesbian? Was I the last to know? Because it seems to be evident to everyone else."

Kim shifted in her chair to face Kerry. "Okay, you're going to have to tell me what we're talking about here."

"First it was Finn and then that nurse and now Roger. Everyone just seems to assume that we're lesbians."

"Okay," Kim said slowly. "But Kerry -- we are lesbians."

"I know but everyone just assumes that we are."

"So you're saying that you'd rather that people not know that you're a lesbian?"

Kerry's eyes locked on Kim's and froze.

"I didn't say that."

"Not in as many words, but it's what you meant, isn't it?"

"Don't put words in my mouth."

"All right," Kim said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms, "what did you mean?"

"I meant that I don't want people to...I mean it's none of their business. It's private."

"Private?" Kim asked. "Or secret? Because there's a big difference."

Kerry paused long enough for Kim to know that she'd hit a nerve. "I just don't want it to be the first thing people know about me."

Kim arched an eyebrow at her. "Then don't make it that way. You're the only one who can influence that."

Kim saw Kerry's eyes flash.

"That's not the point," Kerry said and the tone of voice was one that Kim had heard her use with delinquent residents in the ER. "What I'm saying is that if I was one of those very masculine looking women with a crew cut and tattoos, then I would --"

"Hold it, hold it," Kim said. "Are you suggesting that someone who chooses to look like that is less --"

"I'm saying," Kerry said over her, "that it would be more obvious to everyone that that person was a lesbian, whereas you and I --"

"What if I cut my hair, Kerry? Huh? What if I cut my hair and got a great big labrys tattoo on my arm and started wearing flannel shirts and big black boots? You wouldn't find me attractive then, would you? Would you even speak to me?"

"Kim, don't be ridiculous," Kerry said. "You would never do something like that."

"And so that's why you're willing to be seen with me, is it? Because I don't look like some bad 1950's stereotype of a bull dyke? Is that it? Because I have an acceptable haircut and because I choose to wear feminine clothes, you can be seen with me and feel safe because no one will think that you're a lesbian. Am I right?"

"Kim you're being --"

"Kerry do you have any idea how it makes me feel when you pull your hand away from mine like you just did out there?" Kim said. "It makes me think you're ashamed of me."

"Kim, I don't think you're seeing what I'm saying," Kerry said, but her voice was shaking.

"No," Kim said, "I think I'm seeing exactly what you're saying Kerry and I'm realizing what an idiot I've been to think that anything had changed." She got up and slammed the computer shut. "God, I just can't talk about this anymore. I'm going out for a walk."

She strode purposefully across the living room, and disappeared out the front door, slamming it behind her.

Kerry slumped in her wheelchair.

Fuck.

Kim sat in the sand, hugging her knees to her chest, staring out at the lake, seeing nothing. She'd walked for several hours at least before she even thought about turning back and she'd stopped and sat down long before Rachel's house came into sight. Judging from the sun, it was close to suppertime, but she sat there anyway, unwilling and unable to face Kerry again quite yet.

My God, how stupid could a person be? How many times did she need to have it thrown back in her face before she would learn? A few emotional scenes, she let you hold her hand once or twice and POW! You're right back where you were when this all started -- an overgrown love sick teenager who sings along to stupid love songs and starts thinking about happily ever after.

Christ.

She shook her head angrily. She was supposed to be too smart for this. She was supposed to be able to see things like this coming and avoid it, like any rational adult would do. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me four times, I must be Kim Legaspi.

She cried for a while and it did absolutely no good, as she'd known it would. Because despite the fact that her head told her that she had to put as much distance between herself and Kerry Weaver as she possibly could, she knew that what she needed and what she wanted were two very different things. Logic and self-preservation told her that she needed a clean break, maybe a job in a different place and a lot of time and miles between her and the confused woman in the cast. But that wasn't what she wanted. What she wanted was that stubborn little bossy redhead with the flashing eyes. She wanted the Kerry she'd fallen in love with, the one who laughed and whose smile transformed Kim's day, who touched her with such gentleness and passion, who made herself vulnerable and gave herself so willingly to Kim. Oh, she knew what she wanted all right, she wanted Kerry -- in her life, in her arms, in her bed, in her dreams and in her future.

The water lapped at the sandy shore and Kim stared, unseeing, at the waves.

She knew what her heart wanted.

But maybe it just wasn't possible to have it.

It was after dinnertime when Kim returned to the house. They had the briefest of conversations, Kerry mainly reassuring herself that Kim was unhurt before quickly retreating to her bedroom, a somewhat fearful look on her face. Fine, Kim thought, I didn't want to discuss it anymore either. She reached into the cupboard, hauled out the first bottle she laid her hand on, grabbed a glass and stalked right back out the front door.

She walked all the way down to the shore, planting herself heavily in the sand. She glanced at the label of the bottle. Booker's Bourbon. She laughed as she unscrewed the lid and poured herself a generous portion. Leave it to Rachel to buy a $70 bottle of bourbon when the rest of the world made due with Jimmy Beam.

She gulped a mouthful and it burned its way down her throat and lit a comforting fire in her belly.

This is perfect, she thought, leaning back on her hands. I can sit here and watch the sky turn colours, drink my bourbon and she'll be fast asleep when I go back up to the house. And with any luck, she mused as she took another gulp of the healing amber liquid, I'll be so hammered by then that it won't matter if she is up.

"Kim?"

The voice was timid, but it made her wheel around. Finn stood several yards away, halfway between the shore and the house.

"Hey, Finn," she said.

He approached, a puzzled look on his face, those cornflower blue eyes concerned. "Why are you sitting down here?" He turned and looked towards the house. "And where's Kerry?"

"She's inside," Kim said, suddenly feeling embarrassed for no particular reason. "I think she's, uh -- laying down."

Finn nodded and covered the rest of the distance between them. He plopped himself down and played with the sand.

"How are you doing today?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I'm okay. Kind of tired, but..." He lifted his eyes to meet hers. "I kind of feel a little better, I think."

"Well that's good," Kim said. At least someone is feeling better around here. Such resilience people had. It never failed to amaze her. Maybe she'd even get over Kerry one day. She started to slug back another shot of bourbon, then paused and made herself sip. "Kerry was kind of worried when you didn't come over this morning," she said.

"Gran made me stay. She was worried I would get a cold from being wet. It took me all day to convince her I was fine."

Kim smiled.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing at the bottle that sat beside Kim in the sand.

"That is very expensive bourbon," Kim said. She held her glass out for him to sniff.

Finn wrinkled his nose. "That smells awful," he said.

Kim nodded. "Yes it does. And that is only one of its many charms." She drained her glass and then poured herself more.

"How does Kerry feel today?" Finn asked, leaning back on his hands and stretching his legs out in front of him.

"Kerry," Kim said. "Well. I think Kerry feels pretty good today. Her leg anyway."

Finn nodded and they sat together without talking for a long moment.

"Hey, Kim?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"Why did you and Kerry break up?"

Kim sat bolt upright and gave him a look. "You know it's really creepy how you do that."

"Do what?" He sat up, too, interested.

"How you -- how you always know exactly what question --" She sighed. "You'd make a good psychiatrist, you know that?"

"You think?"

"Yeah, either that or an Inquisitor," she said, under her breath.

"So why did you?"

"Why did I what?"

He sighed. "Why did you and Kerry break up?"

Kim leaned back on her hands again and let out a long sigh. "Finn, it's complicated."

She regarded his sweet face and serious blue eyes. No, he hadn't been a baby since the day his mother had stepped off the platform of the el. He'd had his own little personal hell for the past two years. Maybe that's why he was so sensitive to other people's pain. She sipped her drink, then put the glass down in the sand.

"Sometimes, Finn, when a person first starts to realize that she's gay, it takes a little while for her to get used to it. There's a lot of stuff that you need to think about and ...just get used to. And because you have usually learned that being gay is 'bad,' sometimes it takes a longer time for that person to unlearn that and to realize that it's okay that they're gay. That they are okay."

Finn's eyes were riveted to her face and he listened attentively.

"By the way," Kim said, "you probably shouldn't share this little talk with your Gran, because no doubt she'd forbid you from ever coming over here again."

He cocked his head and gave her a look. "I'm not that stupid," he said.

Kim chuckled. "I know. It was just a friendly reminder."

"So you're saying that you broke up with Kerry because she thought being gay was bad?"

Kim's glass stopped halfway to her lips. Why did that sound so irrational coming out of his mouth, when it made so much sense in her own head?

"Well, no, that's not exactly it, Finn, I --"

"Was it because she wasn't getting used to being gay fast enough?"

"Well, no..." Kim said and she sat there holding her glass and trying to get her thoughts straight. Because actually that was precisely what the problem was, wasn't it? Kerry wasn't as far down the road of embracing her new identity as Kim was. And it was hard on Kim to have to double back and wait all the time. She took another gulp, put the glass down and took a deep breath.

"You see, Finn, one of the things about being in a relationship with another person is that stuff that affects one person also affects the other."

"Like when my mom was sick with her depression and it would make my dad and me really sad. Like that?"

Kim nodded. "Yeah, exactly like that."

The puzzled look crept back into those serious blue eyes. "But my dad didn't break up with my mom because she was sick. Even though it made him sad."

"But this is different," Kim said.

"How?"

Kim looked at him and searched her insides. "It's different because Kerry's feeling bad about being gay really affects me. It reminds me of when I felt that way, and I hated feeling like that. It also makes me feel like,..., like she's ashamed of me because I'm gay. And that hurts, too. Can you understand that, Finn?"

He nodded. "That doesn't sound too nice for you," he said. He made designs in the sand with his finger, then wiped them away. "It's just that you guys seem really happy together sometimes."

"Yeah," Kim said, nodding. "Sometimes we were really happy."

"Maybe she just needs more time to get used to it, you know to being gay and everything."

Kim looked down at him and chuckled. I am discussing my love life with a nine year old, she thought. And he is making more sense than I have for months.

Finn met her eyes. "What?" he said.

She shook her head and smiled. "Nothing. I was just thinking that you're pretty wise for your age."

He shrugged. "I do a lot of homework," he said.

Kim laughed out loud.

"Do you still...you know, love her?" Finn asked.

Time stopped on the beach and stood still for a tiny eternity.

"Yeah," Kim said. "I do."

"Well then I think you should wait for her," Finn said, turning back to drawing in the sand.

Kim watched him for a long time.

"You know what I think?" she said, finally.

"What?"

"I think that you are the last of the great romantics," she said.

He made a face. "Romantic? What's that?"

"A romantic is someone who is sweet and sensitive and noble, like Finn Mac Cool. Somebody who really believes in happy endings."

"I like happy endings," he said. "But I like it best if there's a lot of shooting first."

Kim laughed. "Come on. That's all the serious talk I can stand for now. Let's go collect some driftwood for a fire and then we'll go tell Kerry that you're here. She'll be glad to see you."

They got up and ambled up the beach towards the house.

Kim zipped up her laptop case and jammed the rest of her notes in a side pocket. Everything she could possibly need at the editorial meeting was packed and ready to go, and still she was dragging her feet.

The early hour wasn't helping. In order to make her twelve o'clock appointment with the editor of the ER Psychiatry book, she needed to be on the road by seven a.m, which meant getting up at an what was, in her opinion, an obscene hour. She wasn't particularly looking forward to the drive, they were predicting a hot and muggy day in the city and to top it all off, she felt nervous leaving Kerry. Which made absolutely no sense, because Kerry was feeling well, Finn had been hired as a "sitter" for the day and between them, they had the phone number of Finn's Gran, Estelle, Roger and his wife, the fire department, Kim's cell phone, the local ambulance service and the Beaver Point District Hospital. Between the two of them, Finn and Kerry were ready to handle anything short of a tidal wave. And hell, the unflappable Dr. Weaver could probably take out her own appendix with what she carried around in that damned medical bag.

Kim took a last long drink of her coffee. She knew they'd be fine, it was just... well, maybe it was just that she didn't want to go. Lord knows twelve hours ago she'd been more than ready to get in her car and never look back. But by the time they'd had the bonfire with Finn last night, she and Kerry had been speaking civilly to each other and by bedtime, they'd both clumsily apologized for any number of things said. Kim had lain awake for a long time, thinking about what Finn had said about waiting for Kerry and something about it resonated deeply within her. As the room had lightened in the hours just before dawn, Kim had found herself slamming into the same question over and over again: If you don't love her, why on earth have you been here taking care of her since her accident? Clearly, there was something there. But was it enough?

Kim shook the thoughts out of her head and grabbed her laptop case and car keys. She made her way to the kitchen, where Finn was loading the dishwasher under Kerry's supervision. He had toast crumbs all over his t-shirt and a chocolate milk moustache.

"Okay, I have to get going," she said, sliding her wallet and id into another pocket of the case. "I can't see how I'd be any later than seven thirty or eight."

"Well, take your time," Kerry said. "Just drive safe."

"You're sure you two are going to be all right?" Kim asked.

Finn smiled broadly. "I've got things under control Kim. Don't worry."

She suppressed the smile that sprang up. "All right, then. Well, you two have a good day. I'll see you tonight."

Kerry wheeled herself along behind Kim, to the front door. "I mean it Kim, drive safely. It's a lot of miles to cover in one day."

"I will," Kim said and she studied the tiny woman in the chair. There was something different this morning. A sparkle that hadn't been there before. Maybe she was finally starting to feel better. "I will. See you."

Finn closed the door behind her and then wheeled to look at Kerry.

"All right," Kerry said, with a smile, "we've got a lot to do! Let's go!"

The pair hurried back to the kitchen.

Kim glanced at the glowing blue numbers on the dashboard clock. Not much longer until she'd be home, which was especially good since there was a nasty bit of weather moving in. Late afternoon when the temperature and humidity simply could not get any higher, a breeze started to stir and Kim had spotted bruise coloured clouds hugging the horizon. There was going to be a thunderstorm in the next hour, but hopefully she'd be home by then.

Home. She had to chuckle at that. The house of an ex-lover who dumped her for a man, where another ex-lover of questionable current status who required nursing care waited with a nine-year-old warrior-poet-seer borrowed from the mansion down the beach.

Oh, well. Normal sounded boring anyway.

The meeting had gone marvelously. Not only had her editor treated her to lunch at a wonderful little bistro, but he had loved the drafts that Kim had sent him. All of his suggestions had been ones that Kim herself had already considered, so the small changes he suggested would be little work. Before they wrapped up, he had even begun floating around other potential offers for her to think about, since he said her writing style was informative, yet readable. She smiled a little as she thought about it. She'd nearly turned down this project in the first place because she didn't think that she could write well enough. Who knew?

The sky was the colour of pewter now and even though the sun would not set for another couple of hours, Kim had to put on her headlights. The wind had picked up considerably and when she caught glimpses of the water she could see creamy whitecaps on the surface of the lake.

She cast an eye towards the passenger seat where a large bouquet of cut flowers sat. She'd bought them impulsively, on her way back to the parking lot where she'd left her car. She'd been walking along letting random thoughts breeze through her head when she had a fleeting thought of returning to the beach house and to Kerry and she'd had the most tender little thrill run through her. Kerry was there, waiting for her and Kim was going to go to her. Something about it set her heart singing and the next thing she knew, she was in a florist's buying these flowers.

She had a sudden, unbidden memory of the bouquet she'd brought Kerry when she was hospitalized at County and how Kerry had refused even to see her. Kim loosened the vice grip she had on the steering wheel and let out a long sigh. That's okay, she thought, sometimes when you decide to wait, it takes a long time. You just have to keep waiting. It just required patience.

Beside the flowers was a long, narrow paper bag that held a bottle of wine. A bottle of 1995 Chateau Cheval Blanc St. Emilion to be precise. It had put her back a few dollars but it was going to be worth it. On the spur of the moment and before she'd headed over to Kerry's to perform one last little errand, she'd dropped by the wine shop she usually frequented for a quick browse and had stumbled across this little gem. It was going to make for a very special meal. Kim smiled. Maybe even tonight.

And now she sped along the deserted highway, pacing herself against the oncoming storm and wondering how Kerry and Finn were.

The first fat raindrops hit the windshield moments before she turned into the drive. They splattered on the ground and the Jetta and on Kim as she gathered her things up and sprinted to the house.

She unlocked the door and pushed it open, a gust of wind shoving her inside.

She got the door shut, put down the armful of flowers, wine and computer and wrestled her hair back into a manageable shape. Then she paused and gazed into the living room, puzzled.

No lamps were lit and she could see straight through the living room to the lake which was churning and frothing in the storm. The furniture had been pushed back and there was a warm glow coming from the room that bore no resemblance to incandescent lights. She took a couple tentative steps forward and peered into the room.

The sofas, chairs and end tables had been pushed away to form a space in the middle of the room, near the windows which overlooked the deck. A plaid blanket was laid out on the floor and there were a dozen fat candles burning at the head of it. Two places had been set, good china and silver, complete with champagne flutes and what looked like linen napkins. There was a wicker picnic basket nearby and a bottle of champagne, resting in a large bowl of ice. And around the room, in little clusters that made a continuous curving path of light, were tiny votive candles, flickering merrily.

Kim stood there with her mouth open, trying to process the scene. A moment later, she looked up and Kerry was there, beside her, smiling uncertainly.

Kim looked down at her, blinking, trying to find words. "Did you -- Is this --?"

Kerry reached out and took Kim's hand. "Welcome home," she said softly.

Section Five

The votive candles had flickered out long ago and by midnight all that was left were the half dozen candles on the picnic blanket. Kim lay on her side, propping her head with her hand, looking at Kerry in the warm glow. Kerry was reclined into a mass of pillows and had just drained her wine glass.

"So are you going to tell me how you pulled all this together from your wheelchair?" Kim asked.

Kerry gave her a smug look. "It's all about delegation, my dear. Finn and I did the cooking together: I was the supervisor and he was my hands. Then, Finn moved the furniture, put out the candles, set up the blanket and read me the wine labels in Rachel's wine rack so I could pick." She held her glass out for Kim to refill. "Estelle dropped off a few groceries on her way out of town for her weekend off and Roger brought the blueberry pie from his wife's bakery."

Kim shook her head. "Well it was very impressive. And delicious."

Kerry turned to read Kim's face. 'Do you really think so?"

Kim nodded, her eyes locked on Kerry's. "It's lovely, Kerry. Thank you."

Kerry averted her gaze for a moment. "I wanted it to be special. I -- I feel like an apology isn't enough for some of the things I said yesterday. For the things I've done."

Kim held up her hand. "Don't. It's over. We don't need to talk about--"

"But I do, Kim. I do need to talk about it."

Kim held her breath. "Talk about what exactly?" she asked quietly.

Kerry considered her wine glass closely. "About being a lesbian," she said. "I -- I just need to talk about it. Is that okay?"

Kim nodded and smiled, those gentle blue eyes drawing Kerry in. "Well, since I'm currently the only lesbian you know, I guess it's okay."

Kerry took a long breath and when she let it out, it sounded ragged and uneven. "God, I don't even know where to start."

"How about when you first realized you might be gay?" Kim asked and Kerry suddenly knew why Kim must be so good at her job. Whatever she asked, there was something in the way she looked at you and waited that made you want to answer. That made you want to tell her everything so that she could make it all right.

"I realize now that I've always known. Or at least I've known for a very, very long time," she said. "I just didn't know what it was. I couldn't identify it as that. My whole life I'd felt different, you know, like I didn't fit in and I always thought it was other things, but now I think it was that."

"Fit in where?"

Kerry shook her head sadly. "Anywhere. In my family, my work, my school. I mean God, I was adopted, I was smart, I had a physical disability and a crutch...for one reason or another, I just always felt like I was separate from everybody. Different. Even in my own family I felt that way."

She paused and sipped her wine. "All these years, trying everything I could think of to just be accepted. And I've never been able to because I still felt like something was wrong with me, like I was still different somehow." She turned to look at Kim and she smiled. "And now I finally know what it is."

"Some people say that when they first realize that they're gay, they have a sense that some empty space inside them has been filled," Kim said. "As if some part of you was missing and you've just found it. I think I felt like that."

Kerry thought about this and nodded. "Yeah, it is like that. And it makes me realize that I've been trying to scale the wrong ladders all the time, you know? Trying to fix the wrong thing."

"What about your sexual experiences?"

Kerry shrugged. "What about them? They haven't been very notable. I mean, I enjoy men. I like working with them more than women sometimes because they'll be straight with you and they don't hold grudges. And I've known some exceptional men, a few of whom I've had relationships with and slept with."

"And?" Kim prompted quietly.

"It was all right. Satisfying in a way, I suppose." She looked over at Kim and Kim saw the sparkle again. "It was absolutely nothing like when I was with you, though." She studied Kim's face, a budding smile on her lips. "That was...that was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. I felt alive for the first time in my life."

Kim made herself study the blanket for a moment while she tried to pull on her clinical face again. "So what are your conclusions about all of this?"

"Well, obviously when I decided a few years ago that I had an unusually low sex drive, I was mistaken."

Kim chuckled. "Yeah, I'm in a position to speak to this topic and I wouldn't say your sex drive was low."

"It's not that my libido was lacking," Kerry said. "It was that I hadn't found the right way to express it. The right kind of person to express it with."

Kim reached over and took Kerry's hand. She squeezed it.

"So you're pretty sure you're a lesbian, huh?" Kim asked with a grin.

Kerry nodded and smiled. "The jury's in and it's unanimous."

"So now, you need to figure out how you're going to live out this part of yourself."

"And that's the hard part, isn't it?" Kerry said. "I've known lots of people who were gay but I never realized how hard it was to be gay in this society, in this time."

Kim raised an eyebrow. "Some people would say that this is the easiest time in history to be gay. Gay people enjoy more legal rights than ever, we're more accepted, gay characters are on television, we aren't living such closeted lives...."

"And some of us are tied to fence rails and beaten to death," Kerry said sharply.

Kim nodded sadly.

"I understand prejudice, Kim. My whole life I've been judged and categorized by people the moment they see my crutch. I stop being a person with unlimited potential and I become a member of a category. They just drop me in the 'crippled' box and move on." The ruby wine swirled in the bowl of the wineglass as she studied it. "In fact, that's been my stumbling block, I think. Because I've fought too damned hard and long to get out of one box only to get dumped into another. I don't want my sexual preference to be the central organizing principle of my identity."

"But it will influence things, Kerry. If you're going to actually let yourself explore this part of yourself, then there will be ripples. Even if you try to stay in the closet," Kim said.

"I know," Kerry said. "And that's why I realize that I really don't have a choice. I have to just come out and start living. Because the alternative is simply not an option for me."

Kim watched Kerry's face in the flickering glow of the candles. "What are you most afraid of, Ker?" she asked, softly.

Kerry stared at her wineglass. "Destroying my career, or derailing it anyway. Losing face with my staff. Being the butt of gossip and jokes, although, I suppose I'm already enjoying that honour." She looked off into the darkness and the wind whistled at the windows. "Coming out at an age when everyone else is settled and ending up alone." She turned and met Kim's gaze. "It's like it's a whole different world for me and I just don't know how I'm supposed to be. Am I supposed to adopt a different way of living? Go to bars? Am I supposed to become involved in all these causes and movements and things, because I really don't want to."

Kim grinned. "Oh, I see. So you're saying you'll play for the team, but you don't want to wear the uniform, is that it?"

Kerry propped herself up on one elbow. "You see, that's another one of those in jokes that I don't get -- like that U-haul thing and that stupid toaster oven thing. What the hell is that supposed to mean anyway?"

Kim rolled onto her stomach, laughing, then extended an arm to grab Kerry's hand. "Oh, Ker, I'll explain all of those to you sometime, okay?"

Kerry nodded her reluctant agreement, then sipped her wine, but did not pull her hand away from Kim's grasp. Lightning lit the room and there was a blast of thunder above their heads.

Kerry squeezed Kim's hand. "That's nice," she said. Kim smiled at her and rubbed the back of her hand with her thumb. So soft.

"I know we need to talk about us, sometime," Kerry said.

"It doesn't have to be now," Kim said, her face nestled into the blanket.

Kerry raised her glass of wine and smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, but this may be the best time."

Kim said nothing, just lay there and watched.

"I acted like an ass, Kim. I have never been as ashamed of myself as those days in the spring when you nearly lost your job."

"It's ancient his--"

"No, Kim, let me say this. You were being attacked and I did nothing to help you. I was consumed with my own insecurities and fears and I can't imagine how that made you feel." Her eyes were jade green in the candlelight and Kim thought she could see the reflection of tears. "Even if you can find it in your heart to forgive me for what I did, I doubt I'll ever be able to forgive myself." Kerry turned away quickly and took a gulp of wine.

The storm raged outside while they were silent.

"I let you down, too, Kerry. I knew that this was all new to you, that you were struggling with it. But I was so busy feeling hurt and embarrassed and angry that it never occurred to me that you needed support yourself." She propped her head up on her elbow again, moving closer to Kerry, never letting go of her hand. "I'd been courting Romano's wrath since before we met. I knew what was coming. And maybe I let it drive a wedge between us because I was scared of what I was getting into with you. I think I was terrified, deep down, that you were going to get up one morning and say, 'You know what? I think I like men better.'"

Kerry put her wine down and cupped Kim's face with one hand. "Oh, Kim, I would never do that."

Kim shrugged. "Well, I've had some less than satisfying times with 'straight girls' and I think I just didn't want to get burned again. So I let this crumble around me and then conveniently got to blame it on you."

Kerry's eyes never left Kim's.

"A wise little person reminded me the other day that some things are worth waiting for," Kim said. She chuckled. "I had almost talked myself out of being in love with you, Kerry."

"Almost?" Kerry whispered.

Kim nodded. "Almost. But not quite."

Kerry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Okay. So we were both wrong and we both acted like idiots. What now?"

Kim shook her head. "I don't know." She squeezed Kerry's hand. "What do you want to happen next?"

Kerry felt the familiar draw into those soft blue eyes and knew what she wanted. She tugged on Kim's hand, pulling her closer. Kim's smile blossomed and she leaned in the rest of the way.

Kim's lips brushed softly against Kerry's and then Kerry's hands were on her, fingers tangled in her hair, gently, insistently holding her there. Kerry's mouth was warm and velvety and tasted faintly of expensive french wine. Kim felt the heat beginning to build in her belly and she moaned, a low mournful sound from deep in her throat. She reached down and brushed a tender hand across Kerry's hip and Kerry shuddered with need beneath her.

Kim pulled back far enough to see Kerry's flushed face.

"Are we going to do this?" Kim asked and she realized that she was out of breath. "I mean, should we? Do you want to?"

Kerry nodded. "Yes. To all three," she said and she pulled Kim back down to her and captured her mouth hungrily.

The sudden pounding at the front door shocked them both into stillness. They froze and listened.

"Kerry!! Kim!! It's me, open up! Hurry! Kerry!!"

"That's Finn," Kim said and sprang to her feet. An instant later she flung the door open and Finn was falling into her arms. His X-Men pajamas were soaked through, his feet were bare and his eyes wide with panic. Kim crouched down to look him in the eyes and he grabbed onto Kim's arms as if she were all that was keeping him from falling over.

"It's Gran!" he shrieked. "She's sick and Estelle is gone and she fell on the floor!"

"Who fell on the floor, your Gran?"

He nodded frantically, catching his breath. "Something's wrong with her and I don't know what to do and the phones wouldn't work and the power's off and she's laying there, Kim, come on, you've got to help her!" He nearly dragged Kim off her feet.

"All right," Kim said holding him by both shoulders to keep him in place. "Listen to me -- I need you to get Kerry's crutches from the kitchen and then help her get up, all right? Can you do that?"

He nodded, his chest still heaving.

"All right, go on now," she said, releasing him.

"Kerry, I'll get your bag," Kim said, jogging to the bedroom. She pulled two blankets out of the linen closet, located Kerry's medical bag and grabbed her cell phone. By the time she returned, Kerry and Finn were at the door, contemplating the sheets of rain that were coming down.

"I can't go quickly on the crutches, Kim, especially in the gravel," Kerry said. "I need you to carry me to the car."

"Kerry, I --"

Kerry met her eyes and Kim stopped. "All right," Kim said and she handed the blankets and bag to Finn. She crouched down and gently scooped Kerry over her shoulder in a fireman's carry, then slowly stood up. "Are you okay?" Kim asked.

Kerry patted Kim's back. "I'm fine. Go, go!"

They rushed to the car.

Finn preceded them into the house, calling for his grandmother. The house was dark and still. "She's in the kitchen," he said as he ran through the foyer and off into the west wing of the house. Kim doggedly followed, rain dripping off her and the load on her shoulder. Two turns and they were in a huge, well-appointed kitchen. A couple of candles were burning on the counter and it afforded just enough light to make out Mrs. Ryan, prone, on the floor, her dressing gown splayed out around her.

"Gran? Gran?" Finn said. He was crouched beside her, shaking her shoulder gently. "Gran, I brought Kim and Kerry and they're going to help you, but you have to wake up." He opened his mouth to speak more, but choked on his tears.

Kim deposited Kerry on the floor beside Mrs. Ryan then grabbed Kerry's bag from Finn and opened it up. Kerry took a two-finger pulse at Mrs. Ryan's neck then turned to Kim. "Okay, get on your cell phone and see what kind of EMT support they have out here and tell them to get here now."

Kim nodded, whipped out her phone and walked out of the kitchen, pushing buttons.

"Okay, Finn," Kerry said, sliding herself around parallel to the old woman's body, "I need your help sweetheart, you're going to have to be my assistant, okay?"

Finn sniffled, wiped his nose on his pajama sleeve and nodded.

"All right, when I say go, I want you to roll your Gran towards me, okay? We're going to roll her over together." She indicated where she wanted the little boy to push. "Now be gentle, okay? One, two, three, go."

Maureen Ryan lay in front of Kerry, her jaw slack, her skin an unhealthy gray. Kerry quickly covered her with one of the blankets Kim had brought, then she grabbed her stethoscope and started listening. "Finn, does your Gran have any medicine that she takes?"

He nodded.

"Do you know where she keeps it?"

He nodded again. "In the cupboard in the bathroom upstairs."

"Okay, I want you to go and get all of it and bring it to me, okay?"

He raced off into the darkness, his wet feet slapping against the ceramic tile floor.

Kim hurried back in. "There is an ambulance service out of Beaver Point and they're sending a van now. They said it's going to take at least twenty minutes."

Kerry rolled her eyes. "Take her blood pressure, would you?" She handed Kim her stethoscope and the blood pressure cuff, then grabbed a small spray tube, eased Mrs. Ryan's mouth open and sprayed under her tongue.

"Heart attack?" Kim said, as she inflated the cuff.

"It's likely," Kerry said, shining a small flashlight into the old woman's eyes. "Finn's gone to get her prescriptions. Maybe they'll tell us something."

Kim let the air out of the cuff slowly, then frowned. "She's hypotensive," she said.

Kerry grabbed the stethoscope back from Kim. "How long did they say they'd be?"

"Twenty minutes," Kim said, glancing at her watch. "Maybe eighteen by now."

Kerry listened carefully to the woman's heart, moving the stethoscope's diaphragm around and pausing every so often. Finn scurried back into the room, an armful of small and large prescription bottles clutched to his chest. He set them down beside Kim.

"Is she okay? Do you know what's wrong with her? Is she going to wake up soon?"

Kerry kept listening to Mrs. Ryan's heart for another moment, then she grabbed Finn's arm and pulled him beside her. "Your Gran is sick, Finn and you were very smart to come and get us. Now, I think she's had a heart attack --"

"Kerry," Kim said, two large amber bottles of medicine in her hands. "It's not her first heart attack."

Kerry nodded. "Give her another nitro spray, Kim."

Finn watched Kim while Kerry continued. "Right now, what's most important is that we get her to the hospital where they have machines and medicines that can help her. It's really, really important that the ambulance find this house quickly, okay? Now Kim's already phoned them and they're coming, but I'm going to need you to go stand at the end of the driveway, with a flashlight and watch for them. Can you do that, Finn?"

He nodded, glancing back and forth between his Gran and Kerry. Kerry took his hands in hers. "We're going to do everything we can to make her better, all right?"

"Okay," he said.

Kim got to her feet. "Come on Finn, we'll get some shoes on you. I think I have a raincoat and a flashlight in the trunk of the car. We'll get you set up out there." She reached out her hand and he quickly got to his feet and took it. They hurried out of the kitchen.

Kerry took the old woman's hand and felt for her pulse, counting off the beats in her head. And then Kerry lost the weak thudding. She repositioned her fingers, feeling for the pulse again. Nothing. Goddammit.

She flipped the stethoscope back on and listened intently, directly over Mrs. Ryan's heart.

Shit.

Three minutes later, Kim hurried towards the dimly lit kitchen and stopped dead in the doorway. Kerry was struggling to kneel on one leg so that she could provide compressions to Mrs. Ryan's heart.

"Did she arrest?" Kim asked as she dropped to her knees and took over for Kerry.

"No," Kerry said, swinging her legs back out in front of her and catching her breath. "I think she's in V-fib -- it's hard to be certain without a monitor, but I think there's just a flutter of heartbeat right now." She scooted around to put her ear close to Mrs. Ryan's mouth to listen to her breathing. "That would make sense, since hypotension indicates ventricular dysfunction due to ischemia. She's probably had a large infarct and I'd bet that it's her right ventricle."

Kim pushed rhythmically on the old lady's chest. "Is she going to make it?"

Kerry began inflating the blood pressure cuff again. "Not if we don't get her to a hospital soon."

Kim glanced at her watch as she continued forcing blood through Mrs. Ryan's body. Another ten minutes before the EMT's. If they were lucky.

She squeezed her shoulder blades together to stretch out some tension and continued the compressions.

They heard Finn long before they saw him.

"Kerry!! They're here!! They're here!!" he hollered as he led the two EMT's and their gurney through the darkened hallways of the huge house.

Two men, young enough to look like high school seniors burst into the kitchen right behind Finn. They stopped and stared at the woman with the cast sitting on the floor with the unconscious woman.

"All right, I need her on a cardiac monitor, right now and get your defibrillator charged. Move!"

They did as she said.

"Are you a doctor?" one of them asked hopefully as he unfolded the monitor and untangled the leads. "I'm uh, Bill."

"Yeah, I'm a doctor. I work in an ER in Chicago," Kerry said. She glanced at the other young man, made sure he was moving quickly with the defib paddles, then grabbed the paramedic shears from her bag and started cutting a path through Mrs. Ryan's nightgown. She signaled for Kim to stop compressions while she and Bill slapped the leads onto the appropriate spots. They both turned to stare at the tiny monitor.

"She's in V-fib," Bill said.

Kerry didn't seem to hear him. "She needs a large bore IV, Bill, and I want her on 100% oxygen by mask. And give her a 50 mg bolus of Lidocaine as soon as you can."

Kim stood up and moved back to let the other nameless EMT move closer to Mrs. Ryan. Her neck and shoulders ached and she dug at the sore muscles with one hand as she watched Kerry and the two paramedics work on the old lady.

And then her eyes fell on Finn. He was opposite her, standing a step or two behind Kerry and his eyes were fastened on his unconscious grandmother.

Kim stepped around the equipment clutter and went to his side, then crouched down.

"Hey," she said. "Are you okay?"

His eyes never moved from the old woman on the floor and he said nothing.

Kim touched his shoulder and realized that he was drenched through and shivering in a thin pair of wet pajamas. She looked around for the other blanket she'd brought, and spotted it on the floor near Kerry's bag. She retrieved it, then sat down beside Finn, spread it across her legs and gently pulled him down. He sat on her lap and she wrapped the blanket and her arms around him.

"Charge it to 250...clear!" Kerry said and Mrs. Ryan's body was jolted off the floor for a moment. Kerry and the paramedics studied the monitor intensely. "Charge to 300," Kerry said and the whine of the defibrillator batteries filled the kitchen.

"What are they doing?" Finn asked Kim in a hushed voice.

"Your Gran's heart is beating in a funny rhythm. Kerry is giving it a shock of electricity to make it beat right again," Kim said.

"Oh."

He watched Kerry inject something into Gran's IV, then he turned to look at Kim. "Is she going to die?"

Kim hesitated. "Kerry is a really good doctor, Finn, and now that the paramedics are here we can take --"

"Kim," he said and it was one part rebuke, one part desperation. "Is she going to die?"

Kim pursed her lips. "We don't know for sure yet, Finn. Maybe."

He looked back at the scene unfolding in front of him and saw Kerry shock her with the paddles again. He turned and regarded Kim with those serious, sad eyes. "When you know for pretty sure, will you tell me, please?"

Kim searched his face for signs of what was going through his mind. "Okay, if you want us to."

He turned back towards his Gran and watched, a resigned look on his face.

Kim glanced at the sleeping figure sprawled out beside her on the couch. Finn's X-Men pajamas had been changed for a dry pair with Batman characters all over them, his little feet were in Kim's lap so that she could bandage the scrapes and cuts on his feet and a very tired looking stuffed rabbit was pressed to his cheek. Not exactly how Kim had imagined the evening would end when she'd come home to Kerry's romantic living room picnic. But then, life was like that sometimes.

The remains of their meal, the snuffed out candles, even their half-empty wine glasses were still strewn across the floor and Kim couldn't help but think of where things were going when Finn had arrived, so hysterical, many hours ago.

It had been a long night.

But Mrs. Ryan had been flown out to Chicago and to her own cardiologist, (at Kerry's very vocal insistence) and was holding her own. And even though the sun was probably going to rise in another hour or so, they were home at last. Her head swam a little from fatigue, but the crisis had been managed.

She could hear Kerry in the kitchen, on the phone with Maureen Ryan's doctor in Chicago and Kim saw her again, sliding herself around the kitchen floor, flinging the dead weight of her broken leg out of the way to get a better angle on her patient. Kim shook her head. What a woman, she thought. What a passionate, brilliant, stubborn woman.

She finished taping the gauze on Finn's left foot and laid it to rest back in her lap, then reached for the right to inspect it for cuts. He'd run barefoot for almost a half mile on the gravelly shoulder of the road to reach them and there were minor abrasions and lacerations on his soft pink feet. Thank God there hadn't been a broken bottle somewhere along the way. Finn sighed and shifted a little as she propped his foot up a bit and applied antibiotic cream. He'd been something of a hero tonight, first by summoning them and then by his stoic demeanour at the hospital. Which was sad really, when she thought about it -- it meant that illness and sudden death had been enough a part of his life that he'd become practiced at it. She tenderly rubbed the cream into his skin and gazed at his face, even more angelic in sleep.

She heard the phone being put back in its cradle and Kerry wearily wheeled herself into the living room. She steered herself close to Kim.

"When did he fall asleep?" Kerry whispered.

"As soon as he laid his head down," Kim replied. "He's exhausted."

"No wonder," Kerry said and did as Kim had been doing, just stopped to look at his beautiful young face. "I didn't think I'd ever say this, but I've never been so glad to sit in this wheelchair. I'm beat."

"Yeah, you must be," Kim said and she started winding gauze around Finn's foot to hold the sterile pads in place. "How's your leg?"

"Not much sorer than any other part of my body, frankly, " Kerry said.

"Do you want a painkiller?"

"No, I'll just take some ibuprophen and go to bed."

"Okay, let me just get him tucked in and I'll bring you the pills, okay?"

"Okay," Kerry whispered and she turned to touch Finn's face. "Goodnight, Finn. You did good, buddy." Her hand lingered on his cheek and then she pushed herself away from the couch and towards her bedroom.

Kim stuffed the first aid supplies back into Kerry's magical medical bag, then got to her feet and stretched. She wanted to sleep for a thousand years. Maybe more. She sat Finn up and hoisted him into her arms where his head immediately dropped against her shoulder. She grabbed the fallen bunny, then carried him to the bedroom, pulled back the sheets and slipped him under them. He roused himself enough to turn over and hug his pillow while Kim covered him with the blankets and replaced the battered stuffed toy where he would feel it. She leaned down and kissed his forehead. "'Night, Finn. Sleep tight."

Kerry was sitting in her chair beside the bed when Kim entered with water and some pills.

"I know it's pathetic, but I don't think I have the strength to stand up by myself to drag my butt into this bed. Would you give me a hand?"

Kim chuckled. "I'm not surprised, Ker. You worked the better part of a shift tonight. Sitting on the floor." She gave Kerry the water and ibuprofen, and flopped down on the bed while she took them.

"You look pretty tired, too," Kerry said.

Kim nodded. "It's been a big day."

Kerry looked at her for a long moment. "I hope you won't forget about what we were talking about...you know, before everything happened."

"I haven't forgotten," Kim said with a smile.

"Good." Kerry's eyes danced despite her fatigue. "But first, a little sleep, right?"

"That's probably a good idea," Kim said. She got to her feet and helped Kerry out of her wheelchair, steadying her as she transferred herself to the bed. Kerry fell back into the pillows with a sigh. "Oh, God, that's better," she said. "You know, I'm not going to bother getting undressed or anything. I'm too damn tired. I'm just going to sleep like this."

Kim bent to pick up Kerry's paperback, which had been knocked from the bedside table as she'd been getting from the chair to the bed. She stood upright again and suddenly the whole room was pirouetting around her. She stuck out a hand and grabbed the bed while the blood made its way back to the proper organs.

"Whoa, head rush," Kerry said. "Sit down for a minute." She guided Kim to the bed and watched her carefully. "You all right?"

Kim rubbed her forehead. "Just dizzy. I do that when I'm really tired, sometimes, I just get all spinny."

"Lie down for a moment," Kerry said, tossing two pillows to Kim and pushing herself over to make room on the bed. "Because the last damn thing we need tonight is you opening your skull on the bathroom tiles."

Kim stretched out on the bed beside Kerry and sighed tiredly. "On the bright side, we're on a first name basis with the entire staff of the Beaver Point District Hospital."

Kerry chuckled and reached for Kim's hand. "Yeah, but I don't know if that's the good news or the bad news."

Kim closed her eyes, felt Kerry's warmth seeping into her tired body. "Good point. I'll just lie here for a minute, until I don't feel so weak..."

They were both asleep in less than a minute.

It wasn't the mid-morning sun that woke Kerry up, so much as it was the tantalizing smell of freshly brewed coffee. She stretched her stiff limbs, careful not to disturb Kim, then sniffed the air again. No, it wasn't a hallucination brought on by lack of sleep, there really was coffee being perked in the house. And since Kim was here beside her...

She listened more carefully and could just make out the quiet opening and closing of cupboards and drawers and the tinkling of china. She smiled to herself.

Beside her, Kim moved a little and moaned softly and the sound sent a shiver through Kerry's center. How could you go through the hell that Kim had during the previous 24 hours, sleep in your clothes and still look so beautiful? She touched the back of her fingers to Kim's cheek and closed her eyes at the feelings that it sent ricocheting through her. God, thank You for the second (or was it third?) chance and please help me not to fuck it up this time.

Kim's eyes fluttered open and for an instant, Kerry almost pulled her hand away. Then she stilled her nerves and continued caressing Kim's silky skin.

"Hey," Kim said and her voice was still hoarse with sleep.

"Hey yourself," Kerry said and she couldn't stop smiling.

Kim's forehead wrinkled. "Do you smell coffee?"

Kerry chuckled. "I think Finn might already be up."

"Oh, God bless him," Kim said, rolling over and stretching like a cat. "I guess I didn't make it to my bed last night. I hope you didn't mind."

Kerry never took her eyes of the tall blonde. "I didn't mind at all. In fact, I'd like to wake up with you more often."

Kim rolled her head over to look at Kerry. "So would I."

"Then we'll have to do something about that."

"I guess we will."

A polite tapping at the door interrupted.

"Hey Finn, come on in, we're up," Kerry called.

The door swung open, yielding to a gentle kick and Finn slowly entered, balancing a steaming mug in each hand.

"Good morning," he said and he took his eyes from the mugs long enough to glance up at Kim and Kerry. "I made coffee," he said, a proud smile on his face.

"I can see that," Kerry said, struggling to sit up so she could take a mug off his hands. "I didn't know you could make coffee."

He nodded as he made his way around to Kim to give her the other mug. "Kim taught me. She said it's an essential life skill."

Kerry smiled. "Kim's right."

He handed Kim her mug and she grabbed him and hugged him. "You are a wonderful little boy, you know that?"

"You're just saying that because of the coffee," he said, blushing slightly.

"Well, maybe, but that doesn't make you any less wonderful."

He laughed and climbed onto the foot of the bed. "Kerry, did you hear about my Gran this morning? Is she okay?"

"Well, as of three o'clock this morning, she had arrived in Chicago and was at the hospital. She's in the intensive care unit, but she's stable, which means she's mostly okay. I talked to her doctor last night and he said she was doing well."

Finn's face glowed with the news.

"Oh and your grandfather had arrived at the hospital and he was staying with her, so she wasn't alone."

"So she's going to be okay?"

"It looks good," Kerry said, sipping her coffee. "You can probably talk to her this afternoon on the phone."

The little boy fairly bounced with excitement.

"You should be proud of yourself, Finn. You're a big part of the reason that your Gran is okay," Kim said.

He regarded his gauze covered feet. "I was pretty scared," he said.

"Everybody's scared when something like that happens," Kim said. "But the heroes are people like you who are scared, but who do the right thing anyway." She smiled at him. "I'm starting to see why they named you after Finn Mac Cool."

He beamed and flushed a bright red and stared at his feet.

"Hey," Kerry said. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm starving."

"Me, too," Finn said.

"How about pancakes?" Kerry said.

"Yeah!" Finn agreed.

Kim rolled her head to look at Kerry. "You're not thinking of cooking, are you?"

Kerry shrugged sheepishly. "Actually, I was sort of hoping you'd make them."

Kim laughed. "Okay, I'll make them."

"Finn and I can set the table," Kerry said.

"No," Kim said, dragging her legs over the side of the bed and standing up. "Finn is going to be in the kitchen with me, learning his next essential life skill: pancakes."

Finn bounced up and down on the bed. "Okay! Can we make blueberry ones?" He jumped off the bed and followed Kim out of the bedroom. "Or how about animal shaped ones? Oh! Or maybe ones that are like letters, I saw that one time at a restaurant with my dad..."

Kerry watched them go and chuckled.

The beach was spectacular that morning. So many shades of blue in the sky and water that you could lose count, a sweet, soft breeze from the lake and just the right amount of sunshine to rock you to sleep and caress you like a warm blanket.

Kerry paused for a moment to consider that this was the same beach, the same horizon, the same lake that she'd looked at morning, noon and night since they'd arrived, but somehow, it looked different this morning. Better. She and Kim were reconnecting, God was in her heaven and all was right with the world.

Kim had dozed off, a few yards away, in a deck chair, a trade paperback clutched to her chest. They had come close to arguing at breakfast and Kerry still felt like an ass. Kim had mentioned that it had been nearly two weeks since her trip to see Dr. Fisher at the local what-passed-for-a-hospital. Kerry had blithely ignored the comment, knowing very well where Kim was going with it. And, Kim continued, doggedly cheerful, hadn't Dr. Fisher said that he wanted her to come back in oh, two weeks or so, for another x-ray to make sure that all was as it should be? Kerry had looked up from her pancakes and barely held back a growl.

"Why don't you want to go have an x-ray, Kerry?" Finn had asked, genuinely puzzled. "They don't hurt you know. I've had one before. You don't feel anything."

Kim had smiled, somewhat smugly, Kerry thought, as if to say, there, try and argue with that.

She had said that she'd think about it, in a tone that let everyone know that the discussion was now over.

And so, having won a conditional victory on the x-ray front and after breakfast had been cleaned up, Kim had emerged onto the deck with wet hair from a shower, wearing her bathing suit and the sarong she'd worn the night that Luka had visited. Kerry had had to take a deep breath to keep herself from losing it, right then and there. Did Kim have any idea what the sight of her in that particular ensemble did to her? Probably not, she'd just tossed it on to cover up the bathing suit until she was set to swim or tan. But God, there was just something about it -- the way it rode low on her hips and hugged her in places where Kerry longed to run her hands, or maybe the way it all accented her waist and her breasts. Whatever it was, Kim was hot in it. She wanted to roll her eyes at her own sophomoric choice of words, but there was no escaping it, she was hot. And henceforth, should ever Kerry's status as a lesbian be in doubt, she knew she could just summon up the image of Kim ambling through the house in her bathing suit and sarong to seal the deal.

The door slid open and Finn emerged just then, portable phone in one hand.

"It's my Grandpa. He wants to talk to you," he said, giving Kerry the phone and slipping into a chair beside her.

"Hello?" Kerry said.

"Dr. Weaver, is it?"

"Yes, I'm Dr. Weaver."

"My name is Francis Ryan, Dr. Weaver. I'm Finn's grandfather. I was phoning to thank you."

"There's no need, Mr. Ryan. It was our pleasure."

"I understand from my wife's doctor that you were instrumental in saving Maureen's life. That is no small debt I owe you."

"We were happy to help," Kerry said.

"My wife has told me quite a bit about you, doctor," Mr. Ryan said.

Kerry's grip on the phone tightened. "Has she now?"

Francis Ryan chuckled at Kerry's tone. "So has Finn. My grandson is very fond of you and your friend and now I can see why. I have to tell you, I can't remember when I've seen him so happy."

"I'm very glad to hear that," Kerry said. Finn wandered back into the house, quietly closing the door behind him.

"I am wondering if we could impose upon you for one further favour, Doctor. A rather large one, I'm afraid."

"How can we help?"

"My wife and I were wondering if Finn could stay with you and your friend Dr. Legaspi for a few weeks."

Kerry blinked. They must have the old lady on some great painkillers.

The elder Mr. Ryan continued. "I know it's a grave imposition, but my wife's going to need to stay in Chicago for tests and to be near the hospital and her doctor for some time and ...well, as between letting Finn stay at the beach with you and dragging him back to Chicago with us, I have the feeling that he'd never forgive us if we made him leave the beach."

Kerry watched Finn slip back out of the house, in his bathing suit, with a copy of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets in one hand. He settled into the deck chair beside Kim's and started reading. "We would be delighted to have Finn stay with us for a few weeks," Kerry said, her eyes on the boy. "For as long as you'd need, Mr. Ryan."

Finn's head whipped around and he stared at Kerry. Really? he mouthed, eyes wide. She nodded.

"That's very kind of you, Dr. Weaver," Mr. Ryan said. "I'm not sure how you've done it, but you've gotten through to him in a way none of us have been able to. I am very grateful. And I won't soon forget what you've done for my family."

Kerry watched Finn doing an energetic but silent dance of joy on the deck and she smiled. "He's a remarkable young man, Mr. Ryan. We're grateful to your family for sharing him."

Kerry heard Kim's soft footsteps, crossing the living room, turning off lights. She put down her book and peered over the top of her glasses at the bedroom door, watching hopefully. A moment later, Kim slipped into the room, quietly shutting the door behind her.

"Is he asleep?" Kerry asked.

Kim's smile betrayed the answer before she spoke. "Sleeping like the proverbial baby," she said, heading to the bathroom to switch off the last light. "He and Mr. Bunny only lasted through two pages before he crashed."

Kerry put her book and her glasses on the bedside table. "He must be exhausted."

Kim nodded, her brush in hand. "It was all pretty traumatic."

Kerry leaned back into the pillows and regarded Kim. Oversize t-shirt, paisley boxer shorts and still she made Kerry's heart flutter in her chest like it was about to give out. Kim ran the brush through her hair a few times.

"Can I?" Kerry asked, stretching out a hand to Kim.

Kim paused, a smile slowly dawning, then she nodded. "Yeah, sure." She sat down on the side of the bed, close to Kerry and gave her the hairbrush.

Kerry's strokes were short and tentative at first, then grew longer and more confident.

"So this must be what it's like to be a parent," Kim said, her eyes closing at the feeling of Kerry's hands in her hair. "Always waiting around for the kid to go to bed so that they can get it on."

"Yeah, I guess so," Kerry said, chuckling. "That and braces and chicken pox and you've pretty much got the experience."

Kerry's steady brushing lulled Kim, made the tension drain out of her shoulders.

"Have I told you that you have the sexiest, most beautiful hair I've ever seen?" Kerry said softly.

"You might have mentioned something like that." A smile.

"And that you can make a pair of boxer shorts incredibly arousing?"

Kim turned slowly and met Kerry's eyes. "Are you trying to seduce me?"

"Yeah, I am," Kerry said. "How am I doing?"

"Really well," Kim said and she turned around all the way and kissed her. A long, deep, burning kiss that left no questions as to her intentions. Kerry responded in kind, dropping the hairbrush and wrapping her arms around Kim's waist and pulling her long, slender body against her.

The feel of Kim's lips made Kerry dizzy with need and she slipped her hands under the tail of Kim's t-shirt, discovering silky skin that flowed underneath her fingers. Kim groaned at the touch and arched her back, then broke away from the kiss. She got onto the bed, straddled Kerry's lap and then pulled her t-shirt over her head in one flowing movement. The shirt fell onto the bed and Kerry quickly recaptured Kim's lips.

Her center burning, Kerry traced the line of Kim's spine with tender fingers, following the ridge of one rib and caressing the warm, soft flesh of a perfectly sculpted breast. Kim pulled away from the kiss and sat back, let Kerry's hands find her breasts, let Kerry's strong and delicate fingers caress her nipples. Her head tossed back in reflex to the exquisite torture of Kerry's touch and suddenly there were tears welling in her eyes.

Kerry's hands were cupping her face now, wiping tears with her thumbs. "Oh sweetheart, oh I'm so sorry," Kerry said. "What is it? What's the matter?"

Kim wrapped her arms around Kerry and hugged her tightly. "I'm all right, I just -- I hadn't let myself think about how much I missed you," she said. She sniffed and then another sob shook her lithe body. "How much I missed us. I -- I though we were never going to --"

"Shhhh," Kerry said. "Don't even say it." She stroked Kim's hair with one hand and rocked her. A moment later, Kim sat back and looked at Kerry's eyes, a smile slowly blooming through the tears. Kerry kissed her just then.

It was like coming home.

Finn put his pencil down and sighed. "Okay, I did finished that question," he said, pushing it across the table to Kim. Kim pushed her laptop aside and inspected the paragraph he'd painstakingly scrawled onto a piece of loose-leaf paper.

"All right," Kim said, "what are we looking for today?"

"Spelling and organization of sentences," Kerry replied, wheeling herself out onto the deck. "How'd he do?"

Kim nodded as she read. "Pretty good. You'll want to look up 'people' and 'decision,' but otherwise spelling is good." She reread it and then handed it back. "The sentences are well organized and they flow together. I'd give it an A."

Finn nodded glumly, took the page back and reached for his dictionary.

Kim gave Kerry a questioning look.

"Finn," Kerry said. "Are you all right? You've looked pretty discouraged about your lessons for a week now. Is it the schoolwork? Or are you worried about your Gran? Because she's doing really well, you know."

He shrugged and continued flipping dictionary pages. "No, I know she's all right."

"Is it your schoolwork then?" Kim asked. "Do you need a break from it maybe?"

He shrugged again. "It doesn't matter."

"Finn, sweetie, look at me," Kerry said gently. He raised his eyes from the dictionary. "What's the matter? Please tell us."

He fell back in his lawn chair and sighed. "It doesn't matter. There's nothing you can do about it."

"About what?"

"About going back to that stupid school."

"You mean the Blackburn Academy?"

He nodded. "My dad keeps saying that I'll get used to it, that I just have to be patient and everything and that he didn't make friends right away when he went there either."

"So it's pretty bad there for you, huh?"

He nodded, looking miserable. "And I have to stay there all week. It's a boarding school. And sometimes I have to stay there on weekends when my dad is away on business." He played with a loose thread on his t-shirt.

"Finn, have you talked to your dad about how you feel?" Kim asked. "He needs to know that you're unhappy at this school."

"Yeah, but it doesn't do any good. It's stupid because my dad didn't like it there either. He used to tell me how he would get homesick and how the big kids picked on him but no matter what happened, Gran made him go back every year."

Another knowing look passed between the two women.

"So it doesn't matter what I do, I have to go back and the big kids will beat me up and not get caught and I'll still be the stupidest one in my class and I'll still feel homesick all the time." He tore the thread off and wound it around his index finger, deep in thought. Finally, he sighed, scooted to the edge of the seat and picked up his pencil. "Okay," he said wearily, "what question do I have to do now?"

Kerry's eyes met Kim's gaze and held it. You do it or I will, Kerry saw in the blonde woman's face.

"You know what?" Kerry said, slamming two of Finn's textbooks shut.

"What?" Finn looked startled and intrigued.

"We have neglected to teach you another essential life skill," Kerry said.

"Oh yeah? Which one?"

"Reading x-rays."

Finn's face went blank. "What?"

"You heard me, young man," Kerry said, stuffing his notebooks and papers into his backpack. "I don't know what we were possibly thinking, overlooking such a crucial one as that."

"Crucial," Kim said, shutting down her laptop.

"But lucky for you, today is the end of the second week since my infection and I am supposed to get my leg x-rayed, this very day, to make sure it's healing properly."

"You're making that up," Finn said, but there was doubt in his face.

Kerry crossed her heart. "I kid you not. We have to get ourselves to the hospital and have my leg x-rayed and then, I'm going to teach you how to read an x-ray."

"Cool," Finn said, perking up a bit.

"Furthermore, as the head tutor here at the beach, I am declaring a two week homework holiday, beginning right now." She tossed his knapsack over into the corner for emphasis.

Finn's eyebrows shot up. "But, Gran --"

"Leave Gran to me," Kerry said. "Everybody needs some holidays, especially little boys who have already been working for over a month, don't you agree, Kim?"

"Absolutely," she said, with a smile.

"Good. Well, then, since we're all in agreement, who's going to get my crutches so we can get on our way?"

"I'll get them," Finn hollered, scrambling out of the chair. He galloped off into the house.

"Put some shoes on!" Kim called after him. She let her gaze fall on Kerry.

Kerry noticed the attention and half-smiled. "What?" she asked.

Kim leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Nothing. Just thinking about how much I love you." She followed Finn into the house.

Kerry blushed.

Kim heard them before she actually saw them.

"...now in this one, look at these bones here, see how small they are?"

"Wow, I've got that in my hand too?"

"Uh hunh. Except for that broken one there."

"What about this one, what is this one?"

Kim rounded the corner to see Kerry, sitting in a chair with her crutches propped beside her. Finn was slapping another film onto the light table. Somebody had pulverized their elbow.

"Hey, you guys, sorry I took so long," Kim said. "It turns out Dr. Fisher and I went to the same medical school, a few years apart. We were catching each other up on our more colourful professors."

Kerry stopped herself from rolling her eyes. Maybe Kim wanted to catch up on old professors, but Kerry's money was on Dr. Fisher coming up with anything to entice the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen to stand there and talk to him for just one more minute. And of course, Kim probably hadn't even realized that he was flirting with her. Kerry shook her head. Incredible.

Kim leaned against the counter and crossed her arms. "Did they already shoot your films?"

Kerry nodded and said nothing.

"Do you want to see Kerry's x-ray, Kim?" Finn asked. He shuffled through the jumble of films on the counter and slipped the Kerry's x-ray up onto the light table. "See, this is where her ankle is and these are the bones in her foot..."

Kim stopped hearing the words as she inspected the ghostly images on the x-ray. Her eyes traced the tibia and fibula up and down and then she turned to look at Kerry. "Are you sure this is your x-ray?" Kim asked, indicating the one on the light table.

Kerry nodded, her smile starting to grow.

Kim glanced at it again, then looked back at Kerry. "Kerry, the bones are...it's like..."

"They're healing better than I had ever dared to hope," Kerry said. "Better than I'd imagined." She beamed as she said the words, but Kim could tell that there were tears not too far off. Kim reached down and swept Kerry into her arms, kissing her forehead, her cheek, her mouth, then holding her tightly. Kerry did not pull away.

"This is wonderful," Kim said. She looked over at Finn who was clearly amused by the sudden display of affection. "This calls for a celebration. Let's go out for lunch. My treat."

"Can we get milkshakes?" he asked, replacing the x-rays where he'd found them.

"Absolutely," Kim said. She gave Kerry a hand getting to her feet, then passed her her crutches. Their eyes met and Kim saw once again the relief and sheer joy in Kerry's eyes. Kim kissed her once more, a lingering kiss on the lips. Kerry smiled and ducked her head a little.

Maybe life was a great big gift after all and you just had to receive it.

She crutched her way back down the hall towards the exit, Kim and Finn happily chattering beside her.

Captain Jack's Café turned out to be better than any of them had expected, which shouldn't have been surprising, since they'd asked Anita for a recommendation as they left the hospital and she had told them that if they wanted good food and a pleasant atmosphere, Jack's was the only place to go. It was on the main street of the little town, flanked on one side by a hardware store and on the other by a store that sold appliances. Kim liked it immediately because the tantalizing smell coming from the kitchen told her that someone here knew how to cook with grease. Kerry gave it her approval because it was fastidiously clean. And Finn was delighted with the Billy Big Mouth Bass Singin' Fish that was near the cash register, which, when its button was pushed, would sing and dance to "Don't Worry, Be Happy."

They snagged a booth near the counter, Kim and Finn sliding in on one side to allow Kerry room to put her leg up on the other seat. They studied their menus carefully, Finn pointing out that they made a peanut butter milkshake here. He was not at all sure what to think of that.

"Oh, hey, I meant to tell you something," Kim said, closing her menu. "With all the excitement with your Gran, I forgot to tell you that I brought Kerry's telescope back that time I went to Chicago."

"Did you really?" He nearly bounced on the seat.

"Yup. It's in the trunk of my car. We can take it out when we go home."

"Oh boy," Finn said. "Do you think we could do some star-gazing tonight, Kerry? Could we?"

"I don't see why not," Kerry said. "So long as the weather's clear."

Finn clapped his hands on his legs. "This is so cool! I've never even seen a real telescope before."

Kim slung an arm around him pulled him closer, dropping a kiss on top of his head.

The waitress, a plump woman who was probably younger than she looked, sidled up to their table, pad and pen in hand. She looked from Finn to Kim then back again and smiled. "Well my goodness, it's sure not hard to see who you belong to," she said to Finn. "You are the spitting image of your mommy, now, aren't you?"

Kim froze, momentarily uncertain what to say. Then she saw Kerry's hand slide across the small table and close on hers.

"Actually," Kerry was saying, "he belongs to both of us." She squeezed Kim's hand.

The waitress looked from face to face, mentally doing the math. Then she tried to smile again and didn't quite make it. "Oh, I see, well isn't that nice?" she said. "Can I take your order?"

Finn immediately launched into the description of the milkshake he wanted. Kim looked across at Kerry who smiled benignly at her. Kim looked at their hands together on the table.

She hoped this wonderful woman never stopped surprising her.

Kim flipped the living room lights off and stepped out onto the deck. The night was balmy and the lake was almost perfectly still. There was only the slightest ripple of sound from the shore and from the crickets in the dunes beside the house. So still and peaceful. She had brought Kerry here looking for peace. It had taken a while, but they might just have found it. Finally.

She snapped on her flashlight and carefully made her way across the deck, down the stairs and out onto the sand, heading for a small oasis of light near the shore. As she approached, she saw that Kerry was shining a flashlight on Finn's astronomy book. Kim turned off her light and stood there, staring up into the heavens, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness.

"But why do they call them radio telescopes?" Finn said. "They don't have anything to do with radios, do they?"

"Well, no, but radios, just like radio telescopes pick up radio waves. But radio telescopes can also pick up lots of other waves like microwaves for instance."

"I still don't see why they just don't build humungous regular telescopes and look into them," Finn said.

"Because there are some stars that are so far away, we can't see them looking through a regular telescope," Kerry said.

"Then how do they know they're there?"

Kim chuckled and headed over to join them.

"Who was on the phone?" Kerry asked when she saw Kim.

"It was Luka," Kim said, settling back into her lawn chair beside Kerry. "He phoned to say that he has the next two days off and he wondered if he could come up and visit."

"Luka's coming?" Finn said. "Excellent!"

"Is he going to drive up tomorrow?" Kerry asked.

Kim nodded and snuggled deeper into her hooded sweatshirt. "Yup. He said he's going to leave early so he can be here before noon."

"Do you think he'll want to go swimming and play Frisbee again?" Finn asked.

"Oh, I'm pretty certain he will," Kim said. "And Finn, by the way, there was a message for you from your Gran."

The little boy paused. "Really?"

"Yes. She said she hoped you were behaving yourself and that you weren't having so much fun that you were neglecting your schoolwork."

Finn bit his lip and nodded. "I guess she's feeling better."

Kerry laughed. "Sounds like it."

Finn gave Kerry a long look. "We're not going to tell her, are we?"

Kerry shrugged. "Well, we're not going to tell her everything, if that's what you mean."

Finn beamed and went back to his astronomy book.

"Okay," Kerry said, "now you try and find Cygnus."

"Cygnus," Finn repeated, sitting down in the sand and adjusting the telescope's eyepiece. "That's the swan one, right?"

"Right. Now do you remember how I told you to find it?"

Kim turned her gaze to study Kerry in the glow of the flashlight as she talked to Finn. She longed to reach out and touch her face, her neck, to bury herself in Kerry's arms, to undress her slowly and deliberately, kissing every inch of skin that she exposed...

She felt a flush and a rush of moisture and she glanced over at Finn wondering when they might finally get him to bed.

"There it is! There it is!" he said. "I found it Kerry, come and look!"

"Okay, give me a minute," Kerry replied.

She gave herself a shake and chuckled. It didn't take much to get her all hot and bothered these days. She took a deep breath and let it out, let the tension drain with it.

She could wait. She would wait all night if she had to.

After all, some things were just worth waiting for.

EPILOGUE

Kerry teetered on her good leg while she unlocked the door, the late October wind doing its best to knock her over. She slipped inside and shut the door behind her, then dropped her umbrella, briefcase and the pair of oversized binders she'd lugged all the way from the car.

"Kerry?" Kim's voice from the kitchen.

She turned and Kim was there, holding a glass of red wine. She wordlessly handed it to Kerry, then kissed her and helped her off with her coat.

"Malucci was what?" Kim prompted.

"Oh, it doesn't matter," Kerry said, "it wasn't any different than any of the two million other bone headed things he's done this year." She followed Kim into the kitchen where the cooking smells intensified. "I swear to God, some days I feel like I'm running a day care not an ER." She perched herself on a high stool at the island and propped her crutch beside her. "My God, something smells good. What are you making?"

Kim chopped red onion for the salad. "I'm making a vegetable and beef stew and I'm baking bread."

Kerry raised an eyebrow and took a long, soothing sip of red wine. "I'm impressed. I think you should have more days off so you can do this."

"Be your wife, you mean?" Kim said with a mischievous smile.

Kerry considered this. "Well, no, I meant relax and cook, but now that you mention it..."

Kim shot her a look and resumed chopping.

"So how was your day?" Kerry said.

"Very nice, actually. I went to the gym this morning and this afternoon I did the groceries and cooked. And then I wanted to catch up on my journal reading..."

"Ah," Kerry said and sipped her wine. "How long did you sleep?"

Kim chuckled. "About three quarters of an hour."

"Well, it sounds like a perfect day off," Kerry said.

"Oh!" Kim said suddenly, wiping off her hands. "We got a letter today." She reached to the end of the island and plucked an envelope off a pile of mail. She handed it to Kerry with a grin.

Plain white envelope, child-like script. She glanced at the return address.

"Finn!" she said.

Kim grabbed her wine and pulled up a stool beside Kerry's while Kerry got the carefully folded loose leaf out of the envelope.

Dear Kim and Kerry,

Hi! This is Finn. How are you? I am fine. Thanks for writing me the letter Kerry. It was the first real letter I've ever gotten, like in the mail and everything.

How is your leg, Kerry? You probably have your cast off now. I hope you can walk okay. And remember to do your exercises okay?

I guess you don't know but I changed schools this year. I didn't have to go back to Blackburn Academy. Now I go to a much better school. It's called St. Joseph's. The only bad part is that we have to go to mass a lot, like every month. But I like almost everything else about it. The kids are a lot nicer there and the teachers are really nice too. I'm getting mostly B's and A's so far, so even Gran can't say that it was a bad idea to change me. I was so glad when Grandpa said he thought that maybe Blackburn wasn't a good idea for me...

Kim laid her hand on Kerry's. Kerry looked over.

"You talked to his grandfather, didn't you?" Kim asked.

Kerry hesitated. "Well, I didn't talk to him directly."

"What did you do?"

"I wrote him a little note, reminding him that he had once told me that his family owed me a great debt." Kerry shrugged. "He seemed like the kind of man who always pays his debts."

Kim pulled Kerry closer and kissed her cheek. "I like your style, Weaver."

...so now I can live at home with my dad and walk to school and everything. And my dad let me join a soccer league and he and I are taking Tae Kwon Doe together on Saturdays. It is so fun! My dad says one of these days he and I will have a fight and I will kick his butt!!

Anyway, the other reason I am writing is to tell you that I have a three week vacation at Christmas time. Gran and Grandpa are going to Europe for my Grandpa's business and except for the first week (when Christmas is) my dad probably has to work a lot. He said that if it was okay with you guys, I could take a plane all by myself and come and visit. But only if you wanted me to. Because I'm not supposed to invite myself he said. Except I didn't know how to ask you without sounding like I was inviting myself. Is that okay?

Anyway, you guys should write back or something and tell me if it's okay. I would really like to visit with you and remember, Kim you said sometime you would take me to a hockey game? Maybe we could do that. I've been saving my allowance and it could be my treat.

Anyway, I have to go because I have to go to bed now. I'm on the fourth Harry Potter and my dad lets me read for an extra half hour before I have to turn out the lights.

Please write back really soon and tell me if it's okay about Christmas. And I really hope it is. I miss you guys. A lot.

Love, your friend

Finn.

P.S. I looked up a lot of words, so I hope the spelling is good.

P.S.S. Kerry, my Gran wants to know what hospital you work at because she would like to make a donation from you. To say thank you and everything.

P.S.S.S. Kerry, remember: Goodness in our hearts, strength in our limbs and truth on our lips!!!

Kerry folded the letter and put it back into the envelope. Kim watched her attentively, gauging her reaction.

"Pretty good spelling, wasn't it?" Kerry said, reaching for her wine. Kim saw the glint of tears in her eyes. She rubbed Kerry's arm affectionately.

"I miss him, too," Kim said and all Kerry could do was nod. "In fact, I was thinking...how hard could it be to track down Finn's father's number? So that we could call and talk to him tonight."

Kerry pursed her lips. "If we couldn't get it through standard channels, I know a certain resident who comes from a very well-connected Chicago family. Maybe they could help us."

Kim nodded. "Then I think we should try to call him tonight." She slipped off her stool. "Why don't you start trying information while I put dinner on the table? If we haven't gotten the number by dessert then you can call in a favour from Carter. Not that you'd need a favour to call in. The boy has a soft spot for you the size of Wisconsin."

Kerry didn't move, instead sat there watching Kim putter around the kitchen, slicing bread, assembling salads. She followed every move with her eyes until Kim paused, two warmed bowls in hand and looked over at Kerry, a hint of concern in her expression.

"Kerry?" she asked. "You okay?"

She'd almost lost this. Almost lost her. Because she'd been afraid.

She was never going to let that happen again.

"I'm fine," Kerry said, sliding down off the stool. "I'm just fine."

The End

Table of Contents

Start