Chapter 50

"Oh Shit." Cait stared at the television screen in shock. This was not good. Not good at all.

"Hon?" Thom poked his head through the open counter that separated the kitchen from the living room.

She didn't answer straight away, concentrating instead on what was being reported. "Hang on a sec." Film footage mixed with commentary added strength to the broadcast, appearing to validate the rumours that had begun to fly over the airways. It looked like the standard fare they had been expecting - Reed had had a fight with Jae, the two were more than colleagues, yada yada yada...drugs, collapse. Cait leaned forward and hit the volume control on the remote.

"...collapsed in a Maine hospital. Blood tests revealed that Ms. Lewis had more than four times the recommended dosage of a prescription painkiller in her bloodstream at the time of her collapse. Hospital sources confirm that she was admitted for treatment, then discharged at her own request after causing a disturbance in the ER. Eight years ago the actress, whom insiders refer to as The Amazon Ice Queen, walked off the set of another movie - one directed by the man originally slated to direct her current picture, a man who is now himself dead of a drug overdose."

"Once more it looks like sex and drugs are the supporting cast in a Hollywood film." The announcer turned slightly and the camera panned across the set, now focusing on a large screen. "But if sex and drugs get co-billing, what then of the director?" A large portrait of Jae filled the backdrop, but it was the caption that caught her eye.

Cait stared at the TV as the program cut to commercial.

"Everything okay?" Thom dropped onto the couch, oven mitts still covering his hands.

"No. We have big problems." The commercial break ended and once more Jae's face filled the screen, this time flanked by pictures of other women. "We were so worried about protecting Reed that we never even thought about how vulnerable Jae might be."

Thom looked back at her, his face gone still and slightly pale. Suddenly the sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach grew. "I can't talk to you about this, can I?"

"No." He sounded as helpless as she felt.

So far they'd been lucky, their respective jobs not yet coming between them. "This sucks," she said as she leaned against him, needing the physical comfort if she couldn't have the verbal.

"Yup. But it's not like we didn't know this might happen."

"It still sucks." On the TV, more innuendo about Jae and speculation about her sexuality filled the screen. If it didn't have the potential to hurt her friend so badly, Cait would have laughed at some of the rumours.

"She didn't really sleep with Melissa Etheridge, did she?"

"Are you going to print the answer if I tell you?"

"Probably."

"Then no. She didn't. She's never met Anne Heche, thought the coming out season on Ellen was wasted, Sigourney Weaver has never ever asked for her phone number, but she will probably admit to small crushes on Amy Ray and Emily Saliers."

"Signourney Weaver ever ask for your phone number?"

"No. Bette Midler did once, though."

"Was that before or after you rear-ended her?"

Cait burst out laughing. "After." She sobered up and looked at her fiancé.

"Don't ask. You're right in the middle of this one; your prior and current relationship with Jae makes you a big part of whatever story gets reported. All I can promise is that the facts will be double and triple checked - no innuendo or gossip."

"Is this going to get you in trouble?"

"No." He took off the oven mitts and dropped them onto the coffee table, then drew her close with one arm. "Because I don't know anything, and I assigned a staff-writer to the movie after we did the interview with Dr. Chappelle."

"Guess it's time to set some ground rules, huh?"

"No lying to me. A 'no comment' or an 'I can't talk about it' will be enough for me. You can lie to any other reporter you want. Just not to me."

"Okay. What about reasonable expectation of privacy? If you overhear something that I had reason to expect was private, then it stays private until you find a second source to provide the information."

"That makes sense. You need to make sure that your staff and Jae's family know who I am on a professional level, so nothing inadvertently gets said to me just because I'm associated with you."

"Good one. Now what about just between us?"

"That's a tough one. I can see you're upset by what's on the show, and I want to make it all go away, but..."

"But you can't. You can hold me, though. How about while this is going on we let actions speak louder than words?"

Thom grinned and dipped his head. "Deal." Warm lips covered hers and she surrendered to the reassuring kiss, letting her hands roam idly across his broad chest. "I love you."

"Love you too. Now beat it to the back bedroom. I have some calls to make."

Laughing, he got up off the sofa. "Does that mean I shouldn't ask you to move in right away?"

Cait froze, eyes wide. "Move in?" Her heart was beating so fast she thought it would take flight.

"Yes. As in co-habitate. Bad idea, huh?"

"Yes. I mean no. I mean yes, I'd love to move in with you." She leaped up and flung herself at her lover, the frustration of the day melting under the elation of being where she belonged. He gathered her in his arms, lifting her smaller body against his own, supporting her weight. Cait allowed their bodies to mash together and pulled Thom into a steadily deepening kiss.

"I thought you had some phone calls to make?" he murmured into her ear as he nibbled his way across her neck to an unprotected earlobe.

"Ummm. Thought I'd help you get settled in the bedroom first."

"Good plan." He captured her lips again, not putting her down as he moved the two of them into the bedroom.

*****

An hour later, she meandered out across the living room floor and dug out her cell phone, scrolling through the numbers in the phone book until she found the one she wanted. There was no point in calling Jae just yet; the director was still on the airplane, her flight not due to arrive in Bangor until just after eleven eastern.

The smell of pine furniture mixed with the subtle aroma of the basil Thom had been cooking with, drifting around the large apartment and filling it with a pleasantly homey atmosphere. She loved it here; the decor was simple - solid, warm and real - made to be lounged in. Not unlike Thom The happy glow, inspired by his low-key invitation to move in, suffused her with a warmth that nestled deep inside, holding her against the storm about break over all of them.

Cait wandered into the kitchen, amused to find that Thom had left the pasta congealing in the colander, though he had turned the sauce off. The phone jumped in her hand and she nearly dropped it into the sauce.

"Waters."

"It's Becky. You can tell Jae she gets a refund on her bottle of dye. I've had two reporters through here in the last hour."

"Did you tell them anything?" She knew that one of the problems in between them had been Jae's continual hiding of their relationship, so she wasn't sure how the actress would react to the opportunity to officially out her ex.

"Nada. There's out and then there's out. A public media outing would be worse for my career than hers. What do you want me to tell them?"

"As little as possible. Feed them Jae as Miss Visionary Dreamer who sees the best in everyone." That would be one way to explain Jae's continuing to cut slack to Lewis.

"In other words, tell them the truth - just leave out the facts," Becky quipped.

Cait laughed. One of the things she had always liked about Becky was her sense of humour. The actress had an excellent sense of the absurd and no one delivered a one-liner quite like she did. "Thanks."

"Later."

The dial tone came back and she hit a speed code then waited for the call to go through, adding water to the coffeepot as she did.

"Yeah."

"Michael, it's Cait."

"What's up?"

"Shit is hitting the fan back here. Expect some media attention on your set. Keep a muzzle on Himmler."

"What's the party line?"

"Everything's fine, no conflicts. The usual. And Lewis is a pleasure to work with."

"Will do. She is, you know."

"What?"

"A pleasure to work with. She always knows her lines, and even though I was skeptical at first, this wouldn't be half the film it's going to be without her."

"Then that's what you tell them. Stay away from their personal lives."

"Gotcha."

"Thanks Mikey."

That left two calls, plus Jae. Do I want to talk to Chambers before or after dinner? After. Right. She buttoned a couple of buttons on Thom's loose-fitting shirt so as not to give the neighbors a show and ducked into the living room. Her palm pilot was on the end table next to the couch. A few quick taps and she had the phone number she was looking for. On an impulse, she tapped the palm pilot again and held the mirror up to check how disheveled her hair had gotten. Elastic time, she winced, recognizing poodle hair when she saw it.

She dialed the number and waited.

"Cavanaugh residence, Aine speaking."

"Isn't it past your bedtime?"

"No," came the indignant response. "and Aunt Jae's not here."

"I know sweetie. Is your grandmother around?"

"Yes. I'll get her."

She held the phone away from her ear, all too familiar with just how loud Jae's niece could get.

"Hello." Elizabeth's voice was a richer version of her daughter's, both of them stressing syllables identically.

"Hello, it's Caitlynn."

"Has something happened? Is Jacqueline okay?"

"She's fine. But the media is about to drag her name through the mud in its quest for ratings. They're outing her, among other things."

"What do you need us to do?"

Cait wondered if Jae really had any idea just how much her parents were behind her, or if her friend's running battles with her mother had more to do with an imagined need to rebel than actual fact. On the other hand, that could be exactly where Jae gets her intimacy problems from. Monkey see, monkey do. "Be on the lookout for reporters. They'll want as lurid a picture as possible. To them, it's all fair game."

"You can't keep the family out of it? Not all of them will understand."

"There's nothing to understand. We are on a 'deny everything' policy right now. Get them to tell baby Jae stories, or about how she's always wanted to make movies. Nothing else."

"Can't Thom do anything about this?"

Here it was, the first time the question would be asked, but not the last. How she answered would be crucial to how mutual friends would look at him. "Thom needs to be able to do his job, without any pressure from us. But...I wouldn't be adverse to you talking to the Times if they come knocking." His ethics would guarantee a balanced story, so if they talked to anyone, better the Times than anyone else.

"How is she taking this?" Concern was clear in the older woman's voice.

"She doesn't know. I'll call her later, she's still en route to Maine."

"We'll do what we can, dear."

"I know. Call me if anything comes up or it gets too much."

"Brian and I will handle them, don't you worry. No one smears our Jacqueline."

Cait didn't doubt it in the least. Elizabeth Cavanaugh was a formidable woman, no mistaking that. And no mistaking just where Jae had gotten her drive. "Thanks." She rang off and leaned her head back against the cushions of the sofa. "You can come out now."

Thom came out of the bedroom and plopped down next to her. She swung her legs up onto the couch, letting her head fall into his lap. Together they watched the last rays of the sun dip below the horizon as darkness fell on the tender night.

"Everything set?"

"Hmm. Yes. Everyone's been alerted, looks like they'll stand behind her."

"Good. She's my friend too."

"I know." She twisted and looked up, holding his eyes with her own. "She knows that." She settled in again, enjoying the last quiet moments of peace they were likely to get for awhile. Yeah, everyone will stand behind her alright - everyone but the person who got her into this mess.
 
 

Chapter 51

Everything that she had wanted to say was gone, swept away by the sight of the small body swaddled in linen, and the sound of his mother's voice. When Reed faltered, she didn't hesitate, but picked up the lyrics she had been unconsciously singing along with. She nearly lost the thread as Reed pivoted and they came face to face. Words failed her as the song ended, swallowed by the clear blue pools that were the only points of colour on the actress' pale face.

Silence invaded the space between them, and for a second she nearly turned and bolted from the room, unable to deal with the sudden upwelling of emotion the pain and fatigue so clearly set on Reed's features evoked. And she would have, except for the barest glimpse of disbelief mixed with joy that had flashed in the eyes still holding hers.

"He woke up." Reed's voice cut the stillness, breaking the spell.

Jae was totally unprepared for the profound relief that hit, hands flying to her mouth, smiling through the tears. Without thinking, she stepped into the room, toward Reed, then faltered as she realized that the actress might not want to be touched. Tears were running down Reed's cheeks and Jae felt helpless. "I don't think I have a section in the friendship rule book for this."

"Are we?"

"Friends?"

"Yes."

"I don't know." Stark truth and she could see Reed flinch away from the honesty. "I'd very much like to be."

Someone brushed by, ending the nascent conversation. A tall, older man in a neatly pressed blue shirt was standing by Rio's bed. Jae turned to go, intending to give Reed and the doctor some privacy.

"Stay. Please?"

Jae nodded and moved to stand behind the chair to Reed's left.

"Let's see if we can wake this young fellow up again, shall we?" The doctor produced a small bulb with a tapered spout. He squeezed it over the sleeping boy's eyelid's, moving the dark bangs slightly as air rushed across Rio's face.

"He spoke." Reed repeated the words over again, like a mantra.

The doctor looked over, one eyebrow raised questioningly. "Was he coherent?"

"Rio told me to get glasses like Neo's...I'd been asking him what kind of glasses I should get."

Jae put one hand on Reed's shoulder and squeezed gently, silently acknowledging the victory before letting her hand drop away. The gesture had been unconscious, completed before she could examine the wisdom of touching the actress, but Reed hadn't flinched this time.

"Excellent." The doctor continued to puff air across Rio's cheeks, this time adding a streak of water from a nearby water glass, before blowing again.

There was a small motion from the bed, then another, as Rio started to awaken. His thick lashes began to flutter and his head turned slightly, as he tried to avoid the stimulus that was dragging him from a deep slumber. Jae watched as he drifted up through the layers, approaching consciousness. She remembered watching Reed sleep and how the angularity of the actress' face had smoothed. It had made her appear much as her son did now.

"C'mon, kiddo."

"That's the way, Riordan. You've got someone here anxious to see your baby blues." As he spoke, the doctor elevated the bed, further disturbing Rio's sleep, still trying to ease him into wakefulness.

Jae watched as Reed tensed, and once more laid her hand across the actress' shoulder, this time leaving it there. With the tips of her first two fingers, she made small circles over the rigid muscles, not speaking with words.

The figure on the bed stirred again, his face losing the serenity of sleep as the corners of his mouth twitched.

"Who loves you?" The wistful hope in Reed's voice nearly cut Jae, and she felt tears sting at her eyes.

"Mummy does." The words were mumbled and indistinct, but it was clear that Rio was aware of what was going on around him.

"And don't you forget it." Reed's voice was stronger now and she leaned forward, one hand brushing the hair back from Rio's face.

"Mummy?" His eyes were wide open now, a deep shade of blue that drank in the surrounding light.

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"I'm hungry."

There was a moment of silence, and then laughter erupted in the room, while Riordan looked on in confusion.

Reed moved forward and tried to stand, her motion awkward. Jae stepped around the chair and slid her arm under Reed's and lifted, assisting the actress to stand and move over to the bed. As soon as she got close enough, Rio threw his arms around his mother. A lump formed in Jae's throat as she watched them rock together, one of the actress' strong hands tangled in Rio's curls as he was being cuddled.

"Hungry, hunh?"

"Yep," he said happily, head cradled on his mother's shoulder. "Can I have some Froot Loops?"

"Eenntt." Reed made a sound like a buzzer. "I don't think so."

"Well young man, we can get you some Jell-O or a Popsicle tonight, but anything more substantial will need to wait until we see how you're feeling in a bit." The doctor efficiently moved around to the other side of the bed, and put a thermometer in Rio's ear. It beeped within seconds and the smile on the doctor's face grew. "Are you a cherry or a grape type?"

"Can I have green Jell-O please, Doctor Zerafa?"

"Green Jell-O it is."

Jae looked on the scene with interest as more notes were made on the chart and Reed exchanged looks with the doctor over Rio's head. No words were spoken as Reed edged away from the center of the bed and eased her son back onto the pillow.

"Mum needs to open your shirt up so the doctor can have a listen to your chest."

There was a slight hesitation over the last word, and Jae found herself tensing up along with Reed. For the first time he looked directly in her direction, then quickly buried his face against his mother and she couldn't help but laugh. "How 'bout if I turn my back?"

Reed whispered something in his ear and he giggled. "Really?"

"Honest."

"Cool." He leaned forward. "You don't have to turn around."

The doctor peeled the left hand panel of the Pokemon patterned top away and visually inspected the bandage before placing the stethoscope over its center. He listened for a few moments then, one-handed, removed them from his ears. "Reed, can I get you to gently lean him forward, careful not to let him bend at the stomach." He touched the exact place he meant, just under the ribcage.

Rio co-operated with the patience of one long familiar with being routinely examined, and in a few minutes was once again leaning back against his mother, one finger creeping close to his mouth. The air had grown expectant as they waited to hear what the doctor had to say.

Jae could read the fear in Reed's eyes as she waited for Dr. Zerafa to finish making notes. "I'm going to order you a double helping of Jell-O, and while we're waiting for it, I need to talk to your mom for a minute."

Reed started to get up, and Jae moved to steady her. Rio twisted suddenly, small arms wrapped around his mother's waist.

"No. Don't leave, mummy." His cheeks were wet with tears and his face ashen.

"Shhh, it's okay. I'm not going anywhere. I'll just be right outside the door, okay?"

"Promise?" There was a slight quaver in his voice, and tears were still flowing down his cheeks.

"I promise." Reed kissed the top of his head then looked up.

Jae met her eyes and nodded assent, instantly understanding what she was being asked.

"Jae's going to stay in here. She'll get me if you need anything." As she spoke she tucked the covers around his waist, neatly folding back the topsheet, then placed a kiss on his forehead. "No jumping on the bed."

He giggled. "Aww."

Dr. Zerafa had brought the wheelchair around, and Reed eased into it. Rio's eyes widened and grew luminous, curiousity lighting his whole face.

"Can I ride in that?"

"We'll see."

"Cool." He lay back again, a yawn stealing the alert look he had been wearing. "Mum?"

"Umm." Reed paused on her way out the door.

"Who loves you?"

"Rio does."

"And don't you forget it."

In that instant Jae knew that if it came to a choice between supporting Reed's need to be with her son and finishing the film, that it was no contest. Not even close.

***

Nervously, Reed watched the doctor walk away in pursuit of Jell-O and a sedative. The prognosis was guarded but hopeful, and Rio's condition would be upgraded once again, this time to stable, from serious. There would be more of the seemingly endless rounds of tests in the morning, and then a decision about whether to operate again now, or later. But for now...for now she just had to focus on the positive aspects and let go of the paralyzing fear driven by the uncertainty.

Every muscle along her back and shoulders ached, her stomach was twisted in knots, and she knew that she was inches from emotional overload. Why had Jae come? She also knew that the two most important people in her life waited within the tiny walls of Rio's hospital room. Or at least if I face her. It would be easy not to take that risk. To just go back in and brush Jae off. Safer too.

But Jae had taken the first step. Can I do any less? And so she turned and rolled into the doorway. Riordan was paying rapt attention to Jae as the director described filming an action scene. Reed stopped, equally fascinated as Jae enthusiastically sketched out camera angles with her hands, voice vibrant and excited, passion plain to see. The words held no evidence of the condescension so common when adults tried to explain things to children, the explanation peppered with technical terms like 'soft-light' and 'track in'.

Jae's excitement had proved contagious, and Rio's hands were also moving animatedly as he sketched a question of his own, punctuating the words with gestures. Not really listening, she caught only a word or two - 'Mystic Knights' from Rio and 'blue screen' from Jae. Instead she found herself watching their body language, eyes lingering longer and longer on the director.

So many of the things that drew her to Jae were playing out in front of her eyes. And a new one had been added. The polite interaction of Rio's cyber-introduction to the director had given way to what looked to be genuine liking, sparked by a shared interest.

When Rio yawned for the third time, and Jae for the second, Reed reluctantly broke off studying the two of them and moved all the way into the room.

"Mum!"

She smiled back, drinking in the width of Rio's smile. Such a simple thing.... And yet something she'd been afraid of not seeing again.

He peered around her, looking hopefully at the door, face transparent in its quest.

Reed laughed, "Jell-O will be here in a minute or two, kiddo."

On cue, two nurses came through the door. One bore a tray with covered bowls littering its surface; the other pushed a folded up cot into the room, then left.

The nurse with the tray placed it on the high bed table and wheeled it within Rio's reach. "I believe this is for you." Then she turned and looked at Jae, expression apologetic rather than adversarial. "I'm sorry, but visiting hours are over."

A flash of disappointment sparked in the director's eyes, and Reed watched her thoughtfully.

The doctor, who had entered on the heels of the nursing staff, spoke up. "It's alright Carol. Since the odds of getting Ms. Lewis here to go and get some sleep in a real bed are slim to none, she might as well have some company."

Jae looked back at her, as though to gauge her reaction. No time like the present. Reed nodded back almost imperceptibly, receiving in turn, a smile.

"Mum. My arm hurts." Some of the joy that had been coursing through her for the last half an hour fled at the sudden reminder of just how fragile the cord was that bound Rio to recovery. His face was wan, the colour blanched by the pain, his eyes now dull.

In a panic, she swiveled her head to check in with Doctor Zerafa, who had moved quickly to Rio's side. He met her worried gaze with a reassuring one. "It's just a combination of the inactivity and the sutures. The adrenaline from waking up has worn off - perfectly normal. He leaned down and captured a jiggling square of Jell-O on the spoon and deftly guided it to Rio's mouth.

Reed came alongside and took over feeding her son. "Prepare shuttle bay doors for landing." Now where did that come from? They hadn't played that game in a long time, Rio declaring defiantly one morning that he was no longer a baby.

"Shuttle bay doors open."

Tears stung her eyes and she fought them down, not to hide them from her audience, but from Rio. A couple of spoonfuls later he shook his head, and she let the utensil drop into the nearly empty cup. The sedative had taken effect, and his eyes drooped shut as he fought to stay awake. "Don't fight it sweetheart. Your body needs the rest."

"Stay?" he mumbled, eyes closed.

"Night. I'll be right here when you wake-up." There was no response, but a tiny smile decorated his pale lips before sleep smoothed even that away.

"He'll be fine until morning, Reed. You really should consider getting some rest, or at least a decent meal and a shower."

"I got some rest."

"No Reed, you got knocked senseless. Not quite the same thing."

"Hold on. Back up. What's he talking about?" Jae asked.

Reed shot the doctor a withering stare. "Thanks."

"Don't get mad at him. You had to know that sooner or later I was going to ask about the wheelchair and the hospital bracelet on your arm."

"Well now, I don't think you ladies need me for anything else. Reed, there's a pair of crutches at the nursing station, should you choose to do the sensible thing or at least go eat." With that, he was gone.

Uncomfortable, Reed looked down at her hands, aware that she and Jae were going to have to talk, and that the outcome was by no means certain.

"Do I unnerve you that much?" Jae's voice was quiet, immeasurable sadness in the question, and the assumption behind it.

"Not you. This." Reed gestured with one hand, a broad sweeping motion that encompassed everything. How do I explain? She wasn't sure what she meant herself.

"Ah." Jae nodded, seeming to understand.

"We can't talk here." The words broke into the silent impasse, harsh even to her own ears.

The director started to speak, then paused before finally asking, "Do you want to? Talk, I mean. Or...do we leave it, and go on from here, if not as friends, then at least not as enemies either?"

This was it. She could choose right now, with her next words, the future - choose whether it would include Jae or move on. It seemed as though the next moments passed in a hundred years, as she struggled to find the right way to begin mending the rift that she had caused between them. In the end she said the only thing that came to mind. "Talk."

Jae could feel her heart nearly stop as the single syllable fell into the stillness that had sprung up. She'd taken a chance, pushing Reed, laying the choices out bluntly in a way she hadn't done before.

Does Reed understand how scary this is for me? On some level, Jae was aware that this marked the beginning of something new and different, something out of her experience. Aware that the cost of this conversation might well be a piece of her soul. Ironic that I'm willing to risk more for simple friendship, than I ever have on love.

Then she met Reed's eyes and saw a fear matching her own, a risk of equal proportion. In that instant she stepped over the abyss and took a concrete step toward refashioning the bond that, contrary to all of the obstacles, continued to draw her inexorably to the actress.

Everything looked like she was viewing it through a Vaseline lens, people and objects softened and distorted by an invisible film smeared across her mind's eye. Then all at once, time regained its regular tempo and her vision cleared; the room and Reed came into sharp focus as she in turn spoke. "I'll drive." It wasn't fancy, or clever, and it was all she could think of, not daring to invite Reed back to the hotel room she'd hastily rented.

The slight dip of Reed's jaw was all the acknowledgement she received, but it might as well have been semaphore, so clearly did the gesture communicate trust.

A gentle kiss was placed on Rio's forehead, and his curls once more swept away from his brow. Reed pulled off the blue Navy sweatshirt and tucked it alongside her son, who curled a small fist around it.

"It's cold outside."

Reed shrugged and rolled forward. "I'm the Ice Queen, remember?"

It had been a joke of sorts between them, only now it didn't seem so funny to Jae. She stepped in front of the actress, one hand on each of the wheelchair's arms. "No. You may be many things Reed, but an Ice Queen isn't one of them. Not to Rio and not to me."

Wonder and tears showed in the blue plains. "How can you, of all people, still not see it?"

"No Roo, how could I, of all people, still see it?"

"After what I said to you?"

"That only proved you weren't made of ice. C'mon. Let's get out of here before I start to cry." The wounds they carried were only just below the surface, and if the top got peeled away before they were someplace safe, someplace where they were free to talk and cry, Jae was afraid that the things that needed to be said would die unuttered.

If anyone had asked her later how they had gotten from pediatrics to the car, she wouldn't have been able to tell them; all of her energy had been focused on what was to come. The only evidence she had for having made the trip at all was the fact they were sitting in the rental car, waiting for the light to go green.

"Jae?"

"Yes?"

"Where are you going?"

"I don't know. My hotel is over there, and we keep passing a Denny's, but I wasn't sure if either of those places is appropriate."

Reed raised a brow, a flash of the sardonic humour Jae loved showing clearly on her face. "Right, and I'm safer in a tiny car than in a big hotel room? Besides, I seem to remember you telling me that you'd never ever forced yourself on a woman - that changed suddenly?"

"No. That hasn't changed." Out of the corner of her eye, she observed the actress, who had turned to face the window. Instead of hiding her expression from Jae, it had the opposite effect. The darkened glass reflected the chiseled ridges of Reed's cheekbones, the harsh glare of passing streetlights shading the hollows in a monochromatic symphony that lent an almost ethereal quality to her features.

What's going on behind those eyes Reed? Continuing to study the actress' body language for hints and clues, Jae nearly missed the turnoff to the hotel, the dark faces of the unfamiliar city streets indistinguishable from each other.

It was a dance, really. There was no music, no movement, yet they were carefully finding the rhythm of the conversation. Occasionally it had bursts of sound, a flurry of exchanges, then quieted again. The lead shifted too, as each tried to follow without getting lost - or burned. The flow dictated she speak next, this time about something inconsequential - a breathing space in the melody.

"So what happened that got you a hospital bracelet of your very own?" Okay, so it's not totally inconsequential - but close enough.

"I fell." Reed turned away again. Jae saw her take a deep breath, then turn back. "I didn't stay off my leg and it gave out this morning, an end table generously broke my fall...and well, the rest is, as they say, history."

"How is it?"

"My head or my leg?"

"Both."

"Truth?"

"Yeah."

"My head hurts like hell and my leg doesn't feel much better. Doctor said to stay off it for a couple of days, then go easy for a couple of weeks. I strained something called a middle quadriceps of the thigh muscle."

"And your head?"

"Garden variety bump on the head - no concussion."

"Good. Concussions suck." Jae pulled up to the turn around in front of the hotel. A uniformed porter came out to meet them, his collar turned up against the late October chill. "We'll be leaving again around four, okay?"

"Ayup. If you ring down a bit o'head of when you want to go, we'll bring 'er along for you."

"Thanks." She slipped him a generous tip, shivering in sympathy at the porous polyester jacket he wore. The crutches were in the backseat and she grabbed them before moving around to open Reed's door.

The actress' white t-shirt clung to her body, pinned against her frame by the wind, nearly making Jae's teeth chatter. Reed, though, seemed oblivious to the fact Jae was cold on her behalf and slowly climbed out of the car. "You ever study Shakespeare?"

"You know, you have the non sequitur thing down pat. And yes, a little - from a dramatic device point of view. Why?" Reed continually surprised her, little tidbits about the things the actress liked or her interests dropped without warning at the oddest of times. Though, I guess an actress liking Shakespeare isn't all that surprising.

"There's a line from Henry the Fifth."

Jae cast about in her mind for the line that might fit. The play itself she hadn't read in years, but the Kenneth Brannaugh version stood out for her as a brilliant cinematic recreation of the story.

Before her eyes, Reed seemed to grow in stature, the tired woman giving way to the defiant King about to battle insurmountable odds. "Once more unto the breach..."

It was appropriate beyond what even Reed probably realized. If Jae closed her eyes she could almost see the spectres of battles Reed had fought, refusing to surrender. The rest of the line came to her then, and she smiled. "...dear friends, once more. And didn't they succeed in taking the castle?"

"Eventually."

Jae held the lobby door open. "Then once more into the breach it is."

*****

There was something about approaching an event by walking down a long corridor, and Reed suddenly understood why it was such an effective technique for building anticipation in filmmaking. Jae opened the stout room door, holding it wide to allow her to maneuver through with the crutches.

"Moving?" Several bags were piled in the center of the floor space at the foot of the two queen-sized beds. Only the black Sampsonite guitar case had been spared haphazard storage.

Jae hastily cleared the bags to one side. "Actually, half of this is yours."

"Mine?" Now that she peered a little more closely at the jumble of luggage, Reed was able to discern the familiar outlines of two of her own suitcases.

"I packed your stuff up and brought it with me."

"Oh."

"I figured either way, you might want it."

"Oh." Reed knew she was repeating herself in an effort to buy time. Something in the short exchange had altered the atmosphere and tension filled the place where a truce had reigned only moments before.

The normally hyperactive Jae had gone preternaturally still, black satchel clutched in one hand, not even daring, it seemed, to breath into the fragile peace.

Terrified, Reed let her eyes roam the room, drinking in irrelevant details to keep from having to break the terrible silence or answer the questions she was sure to find in Jae's eyes. Velveteen curtains hung from ornate bronze rods, the curves of the end caps reminiscent of an age long departed. The headboards were carved, detailed vine and leaf patterns growing along the cherry wood. A small crack ran up the cream wall, perversely appearing to spring from the hidden roots of the plant.

And still there was silence.

Her eyes traced the crack, tracking it along under the picture rails to its termination point where the wall met the gently coved ceiling. Now she could hear breathing mixed with a steady pounding, and it took a minute before she recognized that she was the source.

Everything had closed in around her, a bizarre optical illusion the opposite of what she normally experienced when under stress. Instead of the world receding and growing small as she distanced herself from the situation, it had grown - Carroll-like - distorted and overwhelming. I need to get out of here. The words sounded in her head, leaving her unaware that she had spoken them aloud.

"No."

Startled, Reed swung around to look at Jae. "What?"

"No running. It's not fair when you do that. If we are going to do this, I need to know that you won't just storm out if it gets difficult."

"I'll try."

"Not good enough." Jae took a breath, breaking into sudden motion as she moved across the room. "If you need a break, say so. But don't just cut and run."

It had started. The rules of engagement were being negotiated. She knew her own limits though and made a counter-proposal. "If I leave, I promise to come back within fifteen minutes."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why leave at all? It's manipulative - I end up not saying things I know I should say because I'm afraid you'll walk out."

Her legs and arms ached, and she let her weight fall onto the bed, a cover for the soft exhalation of pain, not all of it physical. Is that what it looks like? The crutches clattered against each other as they dropped, before being muffled by the deep pile rug. "That's not why. I leave because I'm afraid I'll say or do something to make it worse, not as a power thing." No, you leave because you're scared to be jolted out of your little cocoon. Reed pushed the voice away, concentrating on Jae instead.

Only the dark emerald of Jae's eyes gave her features any colour. Even the normally vibrant blonde of her hair seemed washed out and pale. "So will you stay?"

"Yes." It seemed barely a whisper, so she repeated herself, unsure if she'd actually spoken or merely replied mentally. "Yes." As her answer fell into the space between them, the room seemed to regain more normal proportions, the first hurdle having been navigated successfully.

Jae seated herself on the other bed, then got up and dropped into a wing-backed chair that guarded the window, facing into the room.

"So what did you want to say?"

This time it was Jae who looked caught off balance. "Huh?"

Reed measured her words carefully, forcing them to sound unconcerned, not revealing what was at stake in the asking. "You said that there were things you wanted to say, but didn't."

Jae turned her head and looked at the curtains a moment before again meeting her eyes and taking a deep breath. "Okay." But no words followed immediately.

Speculatively, she eyed the heavy wooden doors on the cabinet next to the stout desk, drawn by the possibility of what might be hidden within.  Unh unh. Alcohol, head injuries and sensitive chats do not mix.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I think the biggest thing I want to tell you is how mad I am. Or not mad, really. Hurt." Jae was facing forward, head canted to one side, strangely with both eyes closed. "Mad and hurt. I deserved better. Deserve better."

Oh fuck. One bourbon and coke coming right up. Jae was looking at her now, expectantly she thought, and Reed found to her surprise that the anger she had thought burned away was back. "You deserved better? You? I deserved not to be fucking lied to, used."

There was no turning back now. The impasse irretrievably shattered, and there was no way left to pretend everything was okay.

"I never used you. Never. Don't lay his crimes on me."

She recoiled as though slapped, for a brief instant disoriented in time, before realizing that Jae was talking about Roan. Defensively, she moved to the attack, zeroing in on the part left unsaid, but instead of sounding angry, her tone of voice betrayed the sadness she hadn't admitted feeling, even to herself. "But you lied."

"No. I just didn't tell you soon enough. It's not the same thing."

"You're playing semantics, Jae." Half of her wanted to get up and walk out the door, while the rest of her desperately wanted to be given a reason she could understand. What? One that absolves you of the blame?

"Am I?" Fierce eyes were turned in her direction, orbs bright with the tears that were beginning to stain Jae's cheeks.

"You should have told me."

"Okay. I'll buy that. When? When should I have told you?"

"Right from the beginning."

"Why? You never told me you were straight. And quite frankly, who I sleep with is between me and the person I may be sleeping with."

"You were sleeping with me." Is this really how you want to play this? Point, counterpoint, hurt - more hurt? Reed held up a hand to forestall Jae's reply. "Let me explain...please?"

Jae nodded, and turned her body so they were facing.

How do I explain? How much do I explain? Reed chose her tack carefully, tasting each word before releasing it. "In the beginning, you're right - we weren't friends, and maybe I didn't need to know."

"Reed, in the beginning you were a raging homophobe."

"Are you going to let me talk?"

"Yes. Sorry."

"No interruptions?"

Jae made a zipping motion across her mouth and tossed over the imaginary key, which reflexively Reed pantomimed catching. In two seconds the entire tone and mood had changed, the tension that had crackled in the air discharged. The unexpected flash of humour brought with it hope and a vivid reminder of what was to be gained if she were willing to take the risk.

It wasn't that it had suddenly gotten any easier. It just wasn't as daunting, and the words seemed to come naturally, habit of half a lifetime broken. "I know you took blame that belonged to Roan." And to others...but Reed didn't speak of them. There were some memories too bitter to taste, even for friendship. "For that I'm sorry. It wasn't fair. But I should have been told, especially after Orlando." She stopped speaking, taking the time to sift through her feelings and the conclusions she had come to on her own in the dead of long, lonely nights. "Maybe I wouldn't have understood, and I might have walked away." A wry grin touched her lips. "I'd like to think I wouldn't have treated you any worse than I did Holly."

You're temporizing. "Okay, so I might have called you a few names and stopped talking to you. We'll never know. How do I explain this? You had all the information. You knew you were gay. You knew that I would have problems with that. You had all the cards. I trusted you. Then suddenly it was Roan all over again - only worse. All he got was my body." Reed left the rest of it unsaid, letting the implication hang in the air between them. You had everything. "It hurt."

The hardest thing was that no matter how hard she thought about it, no matter how she apportioned the fault - and as long as she was being honest with herself - neither of them was in the right and both of them were wrong.

At a loss for what to say next...how to express the emotions behind the facts, Reed gestured futilely with her hands and stopped talking.
 
 

Jae waited, silent, keeping her promise to listen.  When the silence had stretched out several handspans of minutes, she spoke into the space between them, hoping her words would begin to bridge the gulf. "I started to tell you once, but we got interrupted, and before I got another chance - it was too late."

She didn't duck away from the scrutiny and unflinchingly meet Reed's eyes. What do you hope to see? What do I want you to see? It was one thing for the actress to see the truth in her words, quite another to have the truth behind them discovered. The ice fields had melted slightly, gaining colour as the tension lessened, and Jae studied the pattern of cobalt tangled with steel that ringed wide, black pupils.

As suddenly as the search began, it was over, and Reed blinked slowly, lowering her gaze. The abrupt release was like a shock, and it took a minute before she was able to regain her bearings. The intensity of the last left her drained. Do I want to deal with any more tonight?

Can I deal with any more?

She couldn't sit still any longer and got out of the chair, her long stride devoured the distance to the window. A gap in the curtains gave her a chance to fiddle with them, the busyness of her fingers a perfect parallel to the vortex of conflicting thoughts in her mind. "Truth is, I was scared."

Across from her, Reed sat, shoulders hunched as though to ward off imaginary blows. She looks so fragile - yet she's dealt with more pain than I can imagine. And she's still here. Can I do less? The mix of strength and vulnerability fascinated Jae. "How do you do it?"

"Big question. Care to narrow it down a little?" The sardonic humour was back, but it lacked the edge Reed's voice had when she meant to cut instead of amuse.

It was a big question, and she tried to focus in on the essence of what she meant. "How do you keep going?"

Reed stared at her again, the bed creaking as the actress shifted her weight. One eyebrow was lifted, and she shrugged her shoulders. "Why did you climb my balcony?"

What did that have to do with it? Jae leaned back against the desk, one hand to either side, elbows crooked, gently supporting her weight. "There was no one else. I had to." As soon as she heard the words, she understood. The understanding must have shown in her eyes, because a sad smile tugged at Reed's lips.

"Not handling it isn't an option. And to spend time dwelling on what I can't change doesn't accomplish a damn thing." There was another self-deprecating shrug. "I'm not a saint; I wallow occasionally - play with clay, drink too much, or if I feel particularly maudlin, I indulge myself with an hour or two on the harp."

Without thinking, she stepped forward and lifted Reed's hands, turning the warm skin palms-up. Her fingers traced paths along the tapered digits, the calluses on her own fingertips seeking kindred marks on the smooth flesh. There, on the outside edges of the thumbs, and more faintly on the fingertips. Why had she pretended to an ignorance of music?

"It's purely Holmesian." Reed answered the unspoken question then gently drew her hands away, no censure in the removal, and folded them together, ending the physical contact. "I can't actually play music. I just sort of pluck away. It's what Conan Doyle had Holmes do - he didn't actually play the violin. He just used to drag the bow across it over and over again - claimed it helped him think."

"Does it help you think?" Seated on the bed next to Reed, Jae tucked one leg under the other. They were by mutual consent taking a break from the dance, feeling their way slowly with less risky steps.

"Yeah. It does." The bed squeaked again, the actress leaning back slightly into a more casual pose.

"I'm more prone to do stuff like that when I don't want to think."

"Is that why you kickbox?"

"Yup." Well, that and it had been a really good feeling to knock some of the guys in high school flat on their sexist keisters. "There's a coffee pot on the vanity in the bathroom - interested?" Judging by the pace they were setting, it would take the better part of the night before they dealt with the more serious issues that still lay between them. But it was a comfortable pace - one that didn't feel too threatening.

"Coffee would be nice."

"Well that's one thing we've got."

Reed laughed. "I thought the reference was to a movie, not coffee."

"You're not the only one who can adapt quotes, you know."

"Ah. Well then, coffee it is."

Jae smiled back, the words to the song buzzing round in her head. The return of the shared ritual was about more than coloured hot water and caffeine, and more than a beverage had been offered and accepted. How much more remains to be seen. But the dark worry that had held her stomach clenched in knots began to drain away, as the coffeepot filled. She inhaled the satisfying aroma of the caramel hued liquid, exchanging the tension for the scent of hope.

*****

Reed listened, bemused, to the sounds emanating from the other side of the cream plaster wall. Jae had literally ricocheted off the bed and into the bathroom. Glass clinked against porcelain; water sloshed a fluid melody as it filled the carafe. She concentrated on distinguishing the sounds, able to discern the sound of water being transferred to the coffeemaker. Within a minute, it blurped distinctively in the universal language of appliances, the aroma testament to the onset of brewing.

Any second now.... On cue the clunk of mugs being moved across the counter drifted out into the main room, borne on the caffeine zephyr.

Her eyes roamed over to the pile of luggage. Jae's earlier words came to mind, pricking at her. Either way I thought you might want it. Reed stared at a spot on the wall just above Jae's suitcases, tracing the filigree pattern of cracks and bumps. Mentally she ticked through the calendar. It's Friday...no Saturday. The time changes and lack of regular sleep added to the difficulty of tracking the passage of time. Saturday...they...we were supposed to fly to Miami today.

Is that why she came? Reed tried to puzzle it out. So far Jae hadn't said a single thing about the film, or about her disappearing act. Either way....

"Can you check the mini-bar for milk?" Jae's disembodied voice echoed weirdly from the bathroom.

"There's no milk." She continued to root around inside. "Kahlua, Baileys...and two kinds of whiskey."

"Baileys? Really? Cool."

Reed removed the tiny ampoule of Irish Cream from the fridge and then, as an afterthought, the Jack Daniel's. On the surface it could be any one of the many nights they had stayed up talking in Orlando. All that was missing was a bag of cookies or a tube of Pringles.

"Should you be drinking that?" Jae was standing next to the wing-backed chair, twin mugs of coffee in one hand, coffeepot in the other.

"No." The top twisted easily in her hand and she resisted the impulse to skip the coffee altogether. Putting it aside, she opened the Baileys for Jae and exchanged it for one of the mugs. "Thanks."

"De nada."

What just a few minutes ago had seemed like a pleasant interlude, became for Reed an agonizing wait for the proverbial other shoe to drop. Jae had wandered over to the window and was pacing back along the far wall. "For Christ's sake Jae, will you just sit already!"

Jae dropped like a stone into the wing-backed chair.

Reed studied the mix of hurt and chagrin on the director's face and deliberately gentled her voice. "I shouldn't have yelled, and I know that it helps you think, but you were beginning to make me dizzy."

"Sorry."

"Look, I'll stay in the room no matter what happens, if you can stay within a three foot radius."

"Three feet, hunh?" Jae asked with a smile.

Reed smiled back. "Yup." She took a sip of the coffee, enjoying the mix of flavours. Whadda ya know...I handled that right after all.

"It's funny, isn't it? I move around when I get worried or scared - you go completely still or drift off into outer space."

"That would be a funny odd not a funny ha-ha, I assume?"

Her comment drew a laugh from Jae. "Yeah, and I guess we both do the humour thing."

"You'd rather we yelled?"

Jae looked at her strangely, as though making a decision. "It wouldn't be the first relationship I had that involved yelling. I had one girlfriend who thought that the tinkling of breaking plates made a nice counterpoint to the sound of her voice." She grinned wryly. "It didn't"

There it was. Jae's homosexuality was on the table in a way it hadn't been before. Even with Holly, it had been a fact that stayed in the background, never really talked about. I can deal with this. "I suppose that's a hazard in a relationship that has twice the estrogen floating around."

"You have no idea. I did okay until she came at me with a wine bottle - then I was out of there. Homey don't do domestic violence." The director set the empty coffee cup aside and slung one leg casually over one arm of the chair. You could, it would seem, move a lot and still stay in one place.

"Good. You deserve better." And she meant it. Yeah...change the equipment and you'd snap her up in an instant.

There was more shifting in the chair, and Jae looked at her for a long moment before speaking. "Can I ask you a question?"

Reed laughed - not to mitigate the seriousness, but in recognition of the ritual. "Sure, but then I get one back." She'd expected a laugh, or at the very least a small smile, but Jae looked even more somber. The coffee suddenly felt like mud, sitting heavily in her stomach, and she licked her lips unconsciously, waiting to hear the question.

"Why'd you kiss me?"

Oh fuck. I don't know why I did it...how in the hell can I explain it to you? Don't you? The fabric on the chair drew her eye, its pale salmon embroidered upholstery an absorbing swirl of criss-crossing lines. The answer to that question dug into things she'd just as soon stay buried. So what? You're going to lie to her? Isn't that what you were pissed off about to start with? Careful not to spill the last remaining mouthful of coffee, Reed placed the cup on the other bed. Simply not answering never occurred to her, and she struggled to find the words to explain. "I wanted to hurt you as badly as I had been hurt." She looked away. "I used the only weapon I had at my disposal...my body." It had backfired though; the kiss had had far more impact on her than it was supposed to. "Bodies and talent."

"Your body has never been worth more to me than your friendship." The expression on Jae's face was inscrutable, leaving her without a clue what to say next.

Non-plussed, Reed moved to the offensive. "So are you telling me that you aren't attracted to me?"

Jae went completely still, then her hand began to tug at her forelock, the short blonde strands eluding her grasp.

If it hadn't been such a serious moment, she would have laughed. As it was, it was a near thing. Reed continued to watch as Jae covered every square inch of the chair with various body parts, living up to the nickname bestowed on her in Orlando. A Tigger's a wonderful thing....

"I thought we were talking about why you kissed me?"

The evasion was answer enough. "My turn," Reed said, letting Jae off the hook for now. It was a subject best avoided, her own truths in the matter not information she wanted revealed. "Why are you here?"
 
 

Fresh from one jolting question, Jae was unprepared for the sudden escalation of things. The chair was too confining and she wanted to get up and move but was bound in place by her promise. "You walked off the set of my movie. You promised not to."

"No. I promised not to leave without a good reason."

She was missing something, Jae was sure of it. There was something behind the question. The conversation had become a complex tango - what was being said aloud was not as important as why or how. "It's a good reason."

Reed remained silent. Eyes guarded. The actress was once again looking at a point to Jae's left, and the director felt an overwhelming need to look too, but restrained herself. If the actress couldn't leave the room, then the occasional zone-out didn't seem unreasonable.

Jae struggled to stay in the moment. Her usual coping technique had been removed, and this was too important a conversation for her to daydream her way through. "Are you planning to come back to work?" Her tone of voice was much more casual than she would have believed possible.

It was the wrong question. She saw it instantly in the flash of pain across Reed's face and the total shuttering of her eyes. What did I miss? Jae squirmed, picking at her thumb instead of tugging at her hair. Bodies and talent.... It made sense...everything the actress had revealed about her previous exposure to directors and Hollywood had been about bodies or talent, never about Reed herself. She's been used so many times, she looks for it. And on the heels of my all but telling her I was attracted to her...okay, so how do I fix it?

A three foot radius.... Critically, Jae judged the distance from the chair to the bed. Eyes long used to judging camera angles and shot length easily assessed the gap. Not wanting to move too quickly and risk startling Reed, she smoothly stood and in two measured confident strides was at the bedside. Fluidly she sat, body half turned to face her companion, one foot tucked under the leg that remained on the floor.

Her arrival went unacknowledged as Reed merely absorbed the dipping of the mattress. The longer the silence remained, the harder it would be to break, so Jae continued to cast about for what to say, for the perfect words to soothe the hurt. But this wasn't a romance novel; there were no perfect words. And it's not like you have a proven track record of finding the right things to say in relationships anyway.

Still, she had to try. "I'm going to put my director's hat on here for a minute. You walked away from filming a movie without saying a word to anyone, and you're surprised to find someone wondering if you're coming back?"

"No. I'm surprised to find you wondering."

Jae swallowed, the bitterness and hurt that laced Reed's words brought a lump to her throat, constricting it. Wait a minute here. She walked away from my film...so why am I the one feeling apologetic? I believed in her when no one else did. With punishing clarity, Jae understood. I had more information than anyone else did, too. She had known that it wasn't a fit of pique that had driven the actress out of Hollywood the first time, that there was in reality no pattern of walking off movie sets. "I know you left because of Rio and not in a fit of pique. But I don't know that you're coming back. It might hurt, but it's a legitimate question."

Jae watched the muscles along Reed's jaw contract slightly, a visual clue to the maelstrom the actress was mired in. It was another of those fabulous contradictions; Reed could convey even the tiniest nuances of meaning with her facial expressions and voice when she was performing, but in private the clues had to be searched out and interpreted. Like now. What would be interesting to see was who actually answered - Reed or Dar.

"I'll finish it." Reed's voice was tight, jaw still clenched.

"Thank-you. But you know something?" Laser points of vibrant ice turned in her direction, almost physical in their touch upon her own eyes, and silently bade her to continue. "As just Jae, the movie pales next to how much I want Rio to be okay."

"Thanks."

There was more she wanted to explain, more that she needed Reed to understand. It took every ounce of courage Jae had, but she held Reed's eyes and took a risk of her own. "Work has always been easy - not even work really. And no matter what was going on - or not going on - with my personal life - there was work. Nothing personal was ever allowed to interfere with making a film. I'm good at what I do, and I love it. But you came along and shredded the cocoon. They aren't separate anymore."

The last of the surface issues was on the table, leading them into an area she had tap-danced away from earlier. Am I really prepared to go there? And do I even have a choice anymore? No. Briefly she considered not speaking at all, torn between asking a question, and making a statement, either one of which would irretrievably alter their relationship. Right...like it's not already been mangled and put through a ringer?

Instead it was Reed who changed the tempo, taking the lead. "I can't give you what you want."

"And what might that be?"

Reed faltered. Her mouth opened then closed, without a single syllable uttered.

The tension level shot up unbearably, and Jae found herself looking longingly at the door. What in heaven's name are you thinking, backing her into a corner? The brass handle beckoned, seeming a lot closer than it had a bare second ago, the only obstacle between the train wreck she sensed coming and safety.

Jae's question continued to hang in the small space between their bodies and Reed fought the desire to fling herself off the bed and toward the window, or the chair, surprised at how strong the urge was to move. They were deep into it now, and there wasn't a joke in the world that was going to get her out of it. Alright, let's lay it on the line then. Black and white. "Me."

"What? I'm not tall enough for you?" Jae's fingers were in overdrive, her hair nearly standing on end as a result.

Taking the humorous escape offered, Reed quirked a grin and replied dryly. "Actually, it's not the height. It's the accessories."

"That's the most interesting way I've ever heard it put." A devilish spark lit the director's eyes. "And you can shop for accessories."

The brief respite was gone, swallowed up by the truth behind the jest. "What the fuck do you want from me?" She hurled the question at Jae.

Jae flinched, then lifted her chin, anger tinting her words. "Nothing you aren't willing to freely give. And I could ask you the same thing. What do you want from me? You kissed me, remember? You know what Reed? I don't think you have a clue."

It was her turn to flinch. The sting of Jae's words sliced at wounds too long left to fester, the scars more painful than the original cuts. What do you want from her? Doesn't matter.

"Or is that what scares you? That you want me." Jae's voice was calm, words almost an afterthought.

Reed went still, the objects in the room snapped into static motion, and her entire world was reduced to the handbreadth of space between her and her accuser. "Stop." Gutteral and harsh, the plea fell into the gap that separated the two of them. "Don't." The monosyllables were the best arguments she could muster, unable to mount a counterattack of her own. She'd thought to leave Jae off balance, and instead she was the one teetering on the edge of a precipice.

"Okay."

It took a minute for the quiet agreement to seep through the rising panic. "That's it?" What's the catch? There's gotta be more.

She felt more than saw Jae get up off the bed and move so they were facing. "Look at me." A slight pause and an even lower tone. "Please."

She couldn't. Her head remained fixed in place, mind and body once more at war. A soft palm cupped her chin, holding it for a second or two - time had become strangely dilated - it could have been longer, or shorter. Reed could feel the pulse point at the junction of her throat and chin leap against Jae's hand, her heart rate nearly trebling upon contact. And once more her world shrank, now reduced to blood, skin and touch.

"Please," Jae repeated. The barest pressure accompanied the plea, enough to prompt her into movement, but not enough to force it.

"No." Even as she said it, her head tilted up, inclining of its own volition, and reflexively she squeezed her eyes shut, shuttering her soul against the promise of pain.

But she didn't need her eyes to see Jae's calm expression or read the reassurance reflecting from deep pools of healing green. That image was burned upon her brain and not dependant on visual clues. Removing one sense only heightened the others. A wisp of vanilla, a dash of alcohol, and to bind them, Jae's own unique scent mixed with the pervasive evidence of long travel.

The sound of silence filled the room. The void left by lack of words was filled with the complex mix of breathing, the radiator and the night noises of an ancient building.

And still there was touch.

Jae's skin on hers.

Breath that tickled the edge of her ear, and moved long tendrils of hair along a faux windswept path that meandered along the side of her face.

The press of a khaki clad leg against her denim clad one.

Now Reed could feel the racing rhythm of Jae's heart in the director's fingertips, keeping time with her own.

And then her eyes were open. There was a tick at the corner of Jae's left eye, the lid struggling to keep tempo with the coursing of their twinned heartbeats.

It was a daunting instant of limitless possibilities, an endless array of futures; from this one moment in time, all others would spring forward, taking shape from the mold they were about to cast.

Reed's lips were dry, no moisture available in her mouth to ease the sensation of skin about to break, and one hand convulsed in sympathetic despair. "What?"

"I'm only going to explain this once, even if I spend a lifetime proving it. When I said I wanted nothing from you that you weren't prepared to freely give, I meant it. You asked me to stop, so I did."

Somewhere her body found the moisture that had been stolen from her mouth, and tears welled at the corner of her eyes, threatening to spill onto her cheeks, where she would no longer be able to hide them.

"I don't know what Roan did to you, but it's a good thing he's dead, because I swear to god Reed, no one should be allowed to damage another human being the way he did you."

The words were out before she could call them back, the last lid exploding from a pressure cooker of secrets. "It wasn't Roan."

******

Jae sank to her knees, and let her hand drop away from Reed's face, having read the subtle signs that she instinctively recognized meant the actress no longer wanted to be touched.

"When they couldn't find any living relatives, I went to stay in a church-run group home."

As Reed paused, Jae could feel her throat constrict in fear, and she swallowed against the tightness.

"More of a parochial school, really. We had some kids that were from lower income families in the diocese, but most of us lived there at the state's expense. It was okay at first, then Father Francis left."

There was another pause, longer this time, a distant look in Reed's eyes. Oh god. Jae didn't know what she had been expecting to hear. Details about the fire, an abusive lover...anything but this. Torn between wanting to know what was haunting her friend and fear that she couldn't handle the details, Jae struggled to find a way to prompt Reed that wouldn't send her over an emotional cliff or make her retreat. The fear of inadvertently saying the wrong thing won out, and she remained silent, hoping that her continued presence would be reassurance enough.

"We all knew what was going on, but no one ever talked about it. Like if we didn't talk about it - then it wasn't really happening. We'd just lie there at night, waiting for the door to open. Mine never did.

"It was an unspoken rule that we tried to protect the younger kids. It didn't always work. Some nights it was too quiet; some nights it wasn't quiet enough. And always we watched for the turning of the door handle. It took me a long time to figure out why he never came for me." The words were stark, unadorned by embellishment and devoid of emotion.

Jae waited for Reed to continue, but the actress had gone someplace deep inside her memories, her eyes looking vacantly past the painted walls.  There was more, she was sure of it, but pushing seemed like a bad idea. She can't take much more, not tonight. I can't take much more.

It was true. As selfish as it seemed, Jae knew she didn't want to hear any more right now. It hurt too much. The very flatness of Reed's delivery told her how much pain was hidden under the stone façade. Almost as though she can radiate everyone's pain but her own.

What did you see? Whatever Reed had seen, or experienced it had left deep scars, that she could see, but something was missing. What aren't you saying? In the grip if indecision, she wrestled with her options, wanting to soothe away Reed's hurt, and by proxy her own. The empathy she had always felt to the pain of others had left her vulnerable to Reed's, and she could feel the angry hot tears fighting for release as her body fought to express emotions that Reed wouldn't.

The urge to move had left in the wake of her need to be held, and Jae wondered if Reed felt the same. Can I say with touch, what I don't have the words for? Is she ready for that? A lump constricted her throat again and a large tear dropped from the corner of one eye. How alone you must have felt...must feel.

Reed looked catatonic and the fire was gone from her eyes. Not even a ghost of pain showed, so deeply had she retreated from the room. There was no flicker of recognition or hint of awareness as Jae gingerly eased onto the bed. "Reed," she whispered quietly. It was a small window into the agony Reed must have experienced waiting for Rio to awaken, powerless to speed the process and unable to reach through the dark curtain that separated them.

But even in the darkness Riordan had Reed, and Reed had had...nobody. With that, the tears she had been holding in found release, involuntarily unleashed by a mix of anger and futility; that there was nothing she could do, no one she could punish.

Nothing except to be there.

"Reed," she tried again, this time bringing one hand up to curl around one of Reed's. She let her thumb trace small circles over the skin, gently trying to draw her friend back. Unbidden, a snatch of a Melissa Etheridge song danced through her thoughts, an eerily appropriate match for how she felt. I know your heart has held its own fear. It's perfectly clear what they did to you. In my heart, it's the screaming I hear. I won't let them come near, since my love knew you.

She'd heard Reed scream in the night, felt the fear in the frenzied pounding of the actress's pulse, but this calm terrified her more. Do something! Anything. She needs to know that this time, she's not alone. "I'm here Reed." Jae shifted position slightly, moving closer. "I've got you."

Swallowing her fear, and prepared to back off instantly, Jae brought their bodies into contact. "I've got you." Once again she wished for something clever to say, some way to shred the fog, but nothing came to mind, and she struggled on, fighting her own fatigue and overload.

The body in her arms remained rigid, as though still unaware, and Jae just sat. I'm not going to be much fun to deal with tomorrow. Not without a caffeine IV, anyway. She moved again to ease a cramp forming in her leg and caught a whiff of her own sweat. That smell alone should bring Reed around. I need a shower or two. Not to mention a good meal. We could probably both use a good meal, and a long hot bath. Oh...good one, babe.

"Hey. Reed. I'm going to run you a hot bath. I want you to stand up, okay? C'mon Eeyore, up we get." Jae stood, and continued to talk, trying to break through, the nickname another attempt at jolting Reed out of her reverie. "Of course I could just stand you in the shower and turn the water on - I doubt you'd notice."

"Would."

Startled, Jae nearly walked into the door frame, barely avoiding mashing her nose on the wooden trim. Yes! Thank heavens. She buried her elation under a tease. "Well it's not like we can test that theory now." The taps turned easily in her hands, and she let the water flood the large porcelain tub. It was an older hotel, decorated much as it would have been in the thirties, but, reflected Jae, there was something to be said for period décor. "I love these huge old-fashioned tubs."

"We have a claw-foot one at home." Reed's tone was still flat, and her movements were jerky, almost mechanical.

Pausing a moment, she studied the actress. Time to back off. Let her pull herself together. Suicide wasn't Reed's style, so she straightened and nonchalantly stretched, hiding her relief in the motion.

"While you have a bath and dig out some clean clothes, I'm going to go round up some food. I don't know about you, but between all the travel and time zones, I'm famished." Her stomach growled, punctuating the statement with truth. "Any preferences?"

A negative shake of the head was the only response.

Jae took a large towel from the rack and laid it on the counter. The water was close to overflowing, so she reached past an oblivious Reed and shut off the flow. "You're not going to drown while I'm gone, are you?"

"No."

"Good. Cause I'd like a bath too, and I really don't want to have to move your body out of the way to do it - or wait for a police report." It was slightly on the morbid side, but she hoped that the absurdity and irreverence would break the mood, and allow Reed to recoup. "I'll be back before you even know I've left." She turned and left the room, grabbing her pocketbook and keys from the counter near the door.

"Jae?"

She held the door ajar, looking back over her shoulder. "Umm?"

"I'd know." Then the actress turned away, lifting her t-shirt off before dropping it to the floor.

Exiting the room, Jae shut the door tightly, then leaned against its solid weight. In two words, the pain and anguish of the last few hours had been bought and paid for. At a bargain price.

Chapter 52

The water wasn't hot enough. Could never be hot enough. Reed sank below the surface, letting the steaming liquid fill her eyes and ears. Under the water, the world disappeared, no sights, no sounds. There was only the gentle pressure of the tub and the slight chill where exposed skin met air to remind her of the space beyond the narrow confines.

Heat began to seep through her pores and she drank it in, letting it ease the knots from her back. A quick shower in Rio's room had taken care of the evidence of travel, but hadn't done much to rejuvenate fatigued muscles. And the bath was accomplishing at least that much. Even as the muscles relaxed slightly her mind continued to dance along the edge of memory, increasing her anxiety. It was impossible to stay submerged. The water stung and burned her eyes if she left them open. Closing them brought darkness, and the darkness brought a fresh pull to memories no longer locked in the past.

Mechanically, she lathered the soap. Large bubbles dropped into the water and she watched them bob along. The bar slipped out of her hands, diving submarine-like to the bottom of the tub. Reed stared at the soap, transfixed, lather still dribbling from her fingertips and floating on the heat driven water currents.

"Can I stay in here with you guys?"

"Not tonight, Will."

"Please, Ree?"

She almost gave in, but Michelle rolled her eyes, and wanting to please the older girl, Reed stood firm. "Michelle and I want to talk...girl stuff."

He looked about to cry, but nodded agreement.

"I'll come read you some more of 'The Little Prince,' tomorrow night, okay?"

Will's eyes squeezed shut and he swallowed once. "Promise?"

"Yeah kiddo. I promise. Now get out of here before I tickle you."

He scampered out the door, cartoon-like.

"What a baby. How come you pamper him?"

"I don't."

"Sure you do, Reed. I saw you give him your dessert, and you read to him almost every night."

Watching the door, she answered flippantly, "Jealous?"

"Maybe."

Intense brown eyes focused tightly on hers and Reed looked away quickly. "Well, if you really want to hear 'The Little Prince,' I could go get it."

"I have a better idea. Hungry?"

"A little. Why?"

Michelle grinned back. "What say we blow this place? I'll even buy you a soda."

"What if we get caught?"

"We won't. And you know as well as I do that no one's gonna check on us. Now are you game or not?"

"I'm game." Nervously she followed Michelle, excited by the idea of escaping for a couple of hours.

The night passed in a sugar and pizza induced haze, the passage of time marked only by empty glasses and limp cardboard boxes. Stifling a giggle, Reed crawled in the window behind her companion, her height giving her an advantage over the smaller Michelle, who was untangling herself from the bedspread.

She looked over. Michelle had stopped giggling and was instead regarding her solemnly.

"I need to go." Reed's stomach felt queasy, the junk food not settling. Hurriedly, she got up and headed back to her own room. Focused on the nervous tension that had invaded her evening she wasn't paying attention to her surroundings and collided with another person.

The remaining euphoria from her evening of freedom fled as she recognized the priest leaving Will's room.

Clear eyes topped by a mop of blonde hair bored into hers, and she swallowed convulsively, fear turning the food in her stomach to lead.

"Out after curfew? We can't have children here who can't follow the rules. Of course...." He let the words trail off, closing Will's door behind him.

The message was clear; her silence in exchange for his.

"Have I made myself understood, Reed? Or are you anxious to try life on the streets? Hmm?"

"No, Father Xavier."

"You're a smart girl, Reed. Smart enough to know that little girls who sneak out after hours don't have much credibility." His oily words poured over her, leaving her feeling dirty. "Now go to your room."

"Yes, Father." She wanted to check on Will, but didn't dare, huddling alone in her bed all through the night.

Hot tears slid down her cheeks, dropping into the water, tiny splashes showering her chest with cold from the chilled water. The doorknob squeaked, and she cowered against the porcelain, her turn come at last.

Jae fumbled with the door handle, juggling keys in one hand, and the bag of junk food in the other. "Reed?" The moment the door had swung open, the sound of crying wafted through. Awkwardly she hung back, not wanting to intrude on private pain.

"No."

The plea was choked out, and the desperation it carried galvanized her. "Reed?" The actress was huddled against the side of the tub, arms wrapped protectively around her torso, legs folded under her body. She looks so small. But what struck Jae was the blue tinge to Reed's lips. Moving slowly, she knelt beside the tub. "You need to get out before you freeze to death." Reaching for the plug, she was unprepared for the wall of icy liquid that soaked her front as Reed recoiled from the intrusion, and she aborted the attempt.

Okay...so maybe leaving her by herself wasn't such a great idea. She had wanted to give Reed privacy and space but it was obvious that Reed was still locked in whatever memories their earlier conversation had triggered. The water was draining, and Jae could see the progression of goosebumps along the actress' skin as the air hit the chilled flesh. What did they do to you? Jae realized she might never know, that Reed quite possibly would never tell, but her imagination filled in the details, creating scenario after scenario, each more horrible than the last.

Reed made no further move to get out, the tears falling more furiously than they had been. The actress continued to shiver but it was the look on her face that nearly tore out Jae's heart.

Without thinking, she stood and stepped into the large tub, gasping aloud at the shock of the cold water soaking through her pants and socks. Jae steeled herself for chill still to come as she folded her body in front of Reed. Holy cow...this water is freezing! Goosebumps of her own formed under the saturated clothes and across the backs of her arms.

Reed was regarding her in shock, eyes wide.

Pretending not to notice, Jae reached behind her back and once again felt for the plug, this time pulling it. As the cold water drained, she turned the hot water tap on full, thankful that one side benefit of hotels was the unlimited water supply.

"What are you doing?"

Jae looked up. "Refilling the tub."

"What are you doing in the tub with your clothes on?"

"Keeping you company."

"Oh."

Taking a chance, Jae slid forward, placing one leg outside of Reed's body and wrapped one arm around a bare shoulder, bringing the actress' head in contact with the damp sweatshirt. "You look like you can use a hug."

There was a moment's resistance, then Jae felt one of Reed's hands curl into the material, twisting it under her grip, sobs beginning anew. "Whatever it is can't hurt you anymore."

"Promise?"

On the verge of promising, Jae hesitated. "I can't promise that for you, only you can do that. But I can promise to be here if you ever want to talk about it. And I can promise to be here even if you don't want to."

Reed didn't reply verbally but seemed to sag, releasing some of the pent up emotion.

It was back. Jae wasn't entirely sure how, but somehow, in spite of the issues still left to discuss, they had recaptured the trust that bound them so closely in Orlando. "Thank-you," she whispered, not meaning to speak out loud.

"For what?" Reed's voice was stronger now, not so distant sounding.

"This."

Reed pulled back slightly, blue eyes meeting hers through the sheen of fresh tears. "For making you sit fully clothed in a bathtub full of tepid water?"

"Yup," Jae answered. Happily, she leaned back, careful to avoid the taps, bringing Reed with her, until they were both more comfortable. "For being reason enough to get, fully clothed, into a tub of freezing water at three o'clock in the morning, stone cold sober."

"Oh." Reed paused a moment, as if digesting the words. "You're welcome."

******

The water was once again ice cold and, trapped in wet clothes, she began to shiver. The body curled against her had finally quieted, bringing to mind her cousin Sarah's iguana. It had only been possible to handle the reptile in a torpid state. Now there's a flattering comparison. Jae wished she could tell if the actress' stillness was her normal flake out response or if this time it was driven by something darker. Her own need to fidget assuaged by repetitive smoothing of Reed's damp hair, she continued to hold her friend.

"Your roots are showing." A quarter inch of brown was visible along the center part, and Jae touched her fingertips to the telltale evidence that Dar's hair colour was courtesy of L'Oréal, not natural to the actress playing her.

The backs of Reed's fingers touched her cheek, pressing gently against the chilled skin. "And you're freezing."

"A little," she admitted.

With no further ado, Reed unfolded her body from the contorted position she had been sitting in and stood, quickly stepping out of the tub. Forgoing a towel of her own, the actress held a large white towel out in front. "Here."

Jae hesitated, then stood and began to shuck the sodden clothes. As soon as she stepped out of the tub, Reed handed her a towel and limped slowly from the room. She waited a minute to give the other woman time to find some clothes, before following.

"You don't go in much for wardrobe variety, do you?" Reed held up a couple of identical sweaters.

"Being from LA, I don't have much suitable for fall in the east. I bought three of everything that fit. There wasn't time to send Cait."

"Waters buys your clothes?"

Jae caught the shirt Reed chucked in her direction. "I hate to shop, she loves it. Works for both of us."

"I see."

There was an unvoiced question behind the statement, and Jae sighed. And now it begins. She was used to this part of coming out. All of her relationships with other women were now suspect, viewed through the filter of her sexuality. "The answer is no. And how many of those did you steal?" Reed was tugging another of the Navy sweatshirts over her head.

"Four." She settled the sweatshirt into place and pulled her hair out of the neck.

"We need those for filming, you know." Finished dressing, Jae grabbed the bag of groceries from the floor where they'd been unceremoniously dumped.

"I'm only making them look less new. Were you ever?"

"No." The value pack of cereal gave her something to turn over in her hands as she thought. I could leave it at that. But maybe she needs to know that it's not all about sex. "We decided that while it might be fun, our working relationship and friendship were more valuable. That was over five years ago." The Froot Loops flew out of the cellophane wrapper and landed on the bed. She grinned sheepishly. "Those are for Rio."

"Ri-ight."

"They are." Jae tossed Reed a box of Special K. "My relationships aren't defined by my sexuality. Nor are my interests, political beliefs or the shows I watch on TV. There's more to me than who I choose to sleep with."

"How come I can't have the Frosted Flakes?" Reed whined, imitating her character.

Jae played along, supplying the next line. "Those are so bad for you."

One of the small blue boxes was stolen from the wrapper. "What are these for?" Reed held up a package of polystyrene bowls.

"The cereal." She looked at Reed, puzzled by what seemed like an obvious answer.

"Where's the fun in that? It's its own cereal bowl." The actress slid her thumbnail down the front of the box and peeled it open, the wax paper following suit. "Just add milk."

"Let me guess. I bet you can actually open Kraft dinner by pressing on the perforations too."

"Yep." Reed splashed milk into her makeshift bowl and dug in with a plastic spoon.

"So are we okay?" Jae blurted out the question before she could chicken out and let the relaxed atmosphere sidetrack them. Things felt okay, but Jae needed to be sure. While she waited for an answer she fumbled with the box, which refused to transform into a bowl.

"Give me that." In seconds the box was open and ready for milk. "If you meant what you said in your note...then yes. We're okay."

My note? Then she remembered. She read it? Jae really hadn't expected it to be read. "I meant it."

Reed nodded and continued to munch her cereal.

It seemed the last hurdle had been jumped and Jae dug into the Corn Flakes with gusto.

"And that's all you want from me? My friendship?"

The flakes turned to sawdust in her mouth, and only her mother's incessant lectures on decorum kept her from spitting them back into the makeshift bowl. It would be so easy to just say nothing at all. To let it slide, and let the attraction die unacknowledged. Time would take care of it, as it had with Cait and others. Reed is not Cait. "Are you sure you want the answer?"

"No more lies between us, Jae."

She knows. Jae inhaled, then let the air out slowly, marshalling her thoughts, afraid that she would get only one chance to explain. A wrong step here and the dance would end - the painstaking bridge building of the last few hours swept aside under the likely renewal of mistrust. "That's all I want. Would I be happy with more? I don't know. I do know that it's up to us to define how our relationship works. We make the choices."

"And how would you define it?"

Jae started to answer then stopped. "No."

"No?"

"No. Not this time. I'm not taking all the responsibility for this." Jae swung her legs into the space between the two beds and leaned forward slightly. Her palms were sweating slightly and she rubbed them across her pants. Oh bright one. Push her. It was an important point, and she kept a lid on the spark of anger. "I've spent two weeks tied in knots, and even before that, seconding-guessing everything. But you know what? It's not all one-sided. It's not just about what I want and how I feel, or about me being gay. It's two-sided, and it's time you picked up your end."

"You want me to set the boundaries?"

The barriers between them were down, and Jae sensed that if they were going to be able to honestly talk about this, it had to happen tonight, before the outside world intruded again. "No, Reed. I want us to set them. Together." She took another deep breath then released her next words. "And the 'no more lies' thing works both ways."

For a second Jae thought she'd gone too far. A crack split the heavy quiet, and the white plastic spoon Reed had been eating with broke in two, the pieces dropping to the bedspread.

"My life is a series of lies. I go from one to another; each one is real while I'm there, only to be replaced by the next role, the next lie. Ten years ago I was a murderer, after that a research scientist, then a DEA agent. Today I'm the lesbian vice president of a multi-national corporation. None of it is real."

Jae held her tongue, and waited for the actress to give context for the confusing speech.

"I don't know how much of what has gone on is me, and what is Dar. Did I like kissing you? Yes. But I'm not going to do it again, and that's a boundary you are going to have to accept."

"We're playing with fire, aren't we?" The unexpected confession left Jae reeling slightly. Things weren't all one-sided after all.

"Maybe. But you're the one who said it was up to us to define our relationship and that the choices are ours."

"Hugs are still okay, right?"

Reed laughed. "Like you could stop. The naked haircuts have to go, though."

It was her turn to laugh, and she took another scoop of the now soggy cereal.

"I am curious about one thing." Reed dug a new spoon out of the bag, a couple spilling onto the floor.

Jae mumbled around the mouthful of cereal. "What's that?"

"How come you're single?"

"Curious tonight, aren't we? They keep dumping me. Probably cause I'm not the most considerate of girlfriends. I tend to put my job ahead of my love life. In short, I'm told I make a lousy girlfriend." She felt compelled to explain, but couldn't think of anything else to say and went for humour instead. "So it's a good thing you and I are just friends. We'll last longer."

"Ah."

Jae looked up, unable to tell just what 'ah' meant. Well, turnabout is fair play. "What about you?"

Reed laughed. "I don't have a girlfriend cause I don't want one."

"Wiseacre."

"Yep. But I'm your wiseacre." Another piece of normalcy snapped back into place between them.

"I meant - why are you single?"

Reed stayed silent, once again looking at some point over Jae's shoulder.

"Sorry. You don't have to tell me. It's none of my business."

"It's alright. No one's ever asked me that before. Not even Heidi." The actress paused. "Except the media, of course. But they don't count."

"And I bet you didn't answer either."

"Wrong. But they couldn't print the answer I did give."

"You are so bad."

"They eat it up, though. Fits the image, keeps the legend alive." The clock rolled over, the double zero dropping into place with a soft click. "C'mon Tigger. I'm sensitive chatted out, and it's time to get back."

Jae got off the bed and stretched, a yawn escaping involuntarily.

"I can take a cab back. You need to get some sleep."

"Later. Unless you don't want me there."

There was no pause. "No, I could use the company. Can I ask a favour?"

"Yes." She handed over the crutches, surprised at how much Reed's mobility had improved over the last few hours.

"Bring your guitar?"

"Sure. No problem." She rang for the car and they headed for the elevator. Jae carried her guitar, the canvas briefcase slung over a shoulder. "Hey, Reed."

"What?"

They had entered the lobby and the thump of the crutches echoed weirdly in the sparsely furnished space.

"Rio can keep the sweatshirt. You too. Just save me one." It got a delighted laugh. Jae smiled back and opened the glass door, unprepared for the glare of flashbulbs that popped from the darkness beyond the carport. "Whoa."

"Fuck."

The valet opened the car doors and they rapidly dove inside, another expletive escaping Reed as her crutches caught in the door.

"Guess movie stars are big news in Bangor."

"Oh, I dunno. It's your hotel, not mine."

"As if." She shook her head. "What a way to start a morning."

Reed glanced over, giving her a droll look. "You get used to it."

******

Jae had gone for coffee, and Reed watched the gentle rise and fall of Rio's chest. She couldn't put her finger on why exactly, but it seemed different now that she knew he was merely sleeping. She'd actually reached over a couple of times and rested her hand against the flannel of his pajamas, feeling the air lift her hand as his lungs filled on their own.

It had been a good night. That's an understatement. She sat back against the wall, not taking her eyes from the still slumbering child. The whole night felt like a dream, and for the first time in as long as she could remember, she was afraid to wake up.

They'd worked it out. Somehow. And in an hour, maybe less, Rio would open his eyes again, smile and the worst nightmare of her life would be over. Exhausted beyond the repair of even caffeine, another yawn nearly split her jaw, and she struggled to keep her eyes open, no longer able to draw on the adrenaline that had kept her going since leaving Los Angeles.

"I hope you found espresso."

Jae followed the aroma into the room. "At quarter to five in the morning? I found a vending machine. There's enough sugar in this hot chocolate to fuel the space shuttle."

She reached for one of the cardboard cups, but the director held them out of reach.

"Go to sleep, Reed."

"I can't."

"Yes you can. You promised to be here when he woke up, and you will be. They didn't bring this roll-a-bed in here just for you to admire." Jae sat at one end and patted her lap. "Down."

Reed arched a brow.

"C'mon. You know you want to."

And she did. Jae was right. Now that the possibility of sleep had been broached, she could feel her body shutting down. She mustered a final argument. "What about you?"

Jae held up a pillow and tucked it between her shoulder and the corner she was leaning against. "I sleep better sitting up. Now c'mon."

Reed placed the other pillow under her own head and stretched her legs out on the bed, gingerly flexing her left leg to see if it had stiffened up. Sore, but I'll live. Cool fingers pressed against her temples and she opened her eyes, but Jae wasn't looking down, her attention instead focused somewhere else.

"Better?" Jae's fingers had begun circling, easing away a headache that Reed hadn't even been aware she'd had.

"Yes." And it was. Not just the headache either. Reed closed her eyes again and let the gentle rhythm guide her toward sleep. "Night Jae," she mumbled.

"Night Roo."

Jae's voice had grown indistinct, and she wasn't sure if it was a result of falling away from wakefulness, if the director was also drifting off, or both. Finally she decided it didn't matter and surrendered to the last dregs of the night.

Part 10

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