© 2000 by Ciarán Llachlan Leavitt.

email comments to: llachlan

No Range Rover.

Jae hadn’t realized how badly she wanted to see Reed until she saw the vacant slot, the oil-marred blacktop accusatory in its emptiness. She could just be running late.

The blonde took Reed’s laptop and backpack out of the front foot well and slung the straps of both over her right shoulder before adding her own bag to the left one. The coffee was a challenge, but cautious navigation enabled her to squeeze through the front doors without dropping anything.

Her office seemed stark without Cait’s computer and assorted knickknacks adding to her own clutter, and Jae wished that Cait hadn't moved into Roan's old office. The director set the cardboard take-out tray down on the unoccupied desk, along with Reed’s things. She’d figure out how to get them back to the actress later.

It was still pretty early, and most of the crew wouldn’t be around yet, so Jae dug out the edit notes that the film editor had forwarded on Friday. Thankfully, it was material from the second unit and the close-up shots of Irish character actress, Killian Downey. The actress cast as Kerry's best friend had successfully captured the wry, humour of her character, Colleen, and had excellent chemistry with Gwen. Filming tomorrow would switch to the first unit material for those scenes and would pick up any deficiencies or gaps in the second unit’s coverage. Not that she expected any. This morning, they would shoot the preliminary ‘villian’ scenes, and if she survived that, there was still a memorial service to get through before she could go home.

It was hard, but she resisted the urge to look out the large window behind the desk every five minutes to see if the Range Rover was there. At six a.m., Jae couldn’t hold off anymore. Reed had been due in make-up at five-thirty, so even if she had been running late, she should have arrived by now. Or called.

"She here?" The gargoyle maintained a stony silence and refused to answer.

"You’re a big help." The chair swiveled and she turned to look for herself. No Reed. Somehow, she’d expected more from the actress. Guess you don’t know her as well as you thought you did.

"Whatcha looking at?" Cait’s voice broke her reverie.

"Nothing." Jae swiveled back around and faced her assistant.

"Jesus Jae, you look like shit. What did you do - spend the night in a dumpster?"

"The beach."

Cait didn’t appear to have an answer for that, and Jae hoped that the subject would get dropped. Preferably over a cliff.

"I’m going to get coffee. Want one?"

Jae pointed at the other desk. "Actually it was my turn. I brought. Might have to run it through the nuker though. I forgot about it."

"You forgot about it?"

"Don’t start, Cait, ok? Not today. Not now." Jae knew she was held together with what her grandfather would have called a hunk of baling wire and a gob of spit - in other words - barely. Lack of sleep and a guilty conscience weren’t great weapons to take into a sensitive chat with Cait.

"Touchy. So I guess I won’t ask why there are three cups of coffee here."

"What?"

"Coffee. Hot drink - contains caffeine. There are three here." Cait’s brow was raised slightly, full lips quirked in an inquiring grin.

Three. It was her morning for coffee. Had she ordered three coffees? I must have. Here they are. Jae picked up one of the cups and read the side. It was a misto. So no accident, then. "I guess, I guess I was on auto-pilot. It’s Reed’s."

"You might not want to heat hers up - just in case she throws it back at you."

"Cait..." She trailed off, not wanting to start a conflict with her assistant on top of everything else.

"I’m sorry Jae. This one is different, huh?"

"Yeah. It is. I blew it, Cait. And a friendship is not all I may have blown."

"You have to separate them, Jae. If Reed walks out on the picture just because she found out you’re gay - that’s her problem, not yours. At work your sexual orientation is irrelevant. You keep telling me that she’s not aloof - just professional. Well if she’s so bloody professional, then she’ll be here. She may hate your guts on a personal level, but she’ll be here. Or were you wrong about her all along?"

What on earth is up with Cait this morning? Her friend was direct and honest with Jae in ways that no one else dared to be, but this bordered on antagonistic, even for her. The blonde took a deep breath and reined in her temper. "Maybe," was all she said in response. Then she grabbed her clipboard from the desk. "I’m due on the set."

You were wrong about Roan. Maybe you were wrong about Reed too. So what to do? In a way Cait was right. It was business. So if Reed didn’t show, then she’d do what she had to do from a business standpoint. That decided Jae turned and went back into her office.

"Hey pal." She lifted the gargoyle slightly and slipped a blank piece of paper out from under him, then dug in her drawer for a pen.

Jae chewed the tip of the pen as she read over the words. One hand slipped into her hair and she twisted the blonde locks around her fingers as she tried to think of what else to say. She gave up and signed it. Folding it, something else occurred to her, and she scrawled a couple of lines across the bottom, then added her initial. It would have to do.

Jae took the key to Reed’s trailer from her key ring and gathered up the actress’ things. It took less than five minutes to get to the trailer and put the bag and laptop inside. She left the key on top of the letter, in the center of the table. The trailer had become sort of like the room in Orlando - a shared sanctuary from the madness of the film set - and a lump formed in her throat as she remembered the haircut. As she remembered what she had forfeited. Wiping away the tears before they could spill over, Jae clamped down on the emotions and left.

The door to the soundstage opened with a metallic creak, and she stepped into its air-conditioned comfort. The catering table had been moved around the set that had been constructed at the end of the soundstage in order to take advantage of the high ceiling. Jae cut through the set, which was a mock-up of the mental institution, noting as she went that preliminary cables had been laid for the upcoming shoot.

She stepped out of an entryway and collided with the last person she’d expected to see.

Blue eyes locked on hers for a moment, unfathomable in their icy distance, then the moment was gone and Reed stepped past like she didn’t exist.

"Reed..."

The tall woman turned on one heel. "My talent, Jae. That’s it. Nothing more." Then the actress was gone, long strides taking her across the soundstage before the director could muster a response.

The look of hurt in Jae’s eyes lingered in Reed’s mind as she crossed back to the area of the soundstage devoted to Kerry’s apartment. The director looked like shit. There were circles under her eyes and a pallor to her skin that was at odds with the normally healthy tan she sported. It looked like Jae’s night had been as rough as hers. Not my problem.

Right.

The bright lights hurt her eyes a little and she took another sip of the coffee, thankful that she didn’t have a hangover. An assistant called for places, and Reed left her coffee on the side table and moved to her mark. She was grateful that her scenes for the next couple of days were darker than the romantic stuff they had been shooting.

Of course it made it easier that she didn’t much care for the actor playing Kyle. But every piece needed a villian and if nothing else Rafe would play Kyle as a slimeball. Sometimes you couldn't stop your natural personality from showing on camera, and Rafe [last name] had made a career of playing himself.

Commands were given and the tableau came to life.

Rafe delivered his line. "Who the fuck are you?"

"A friend." Reed moved across to where Gwen stood and dropped her voice a register. "Who doesn’t like to see other friends being manhandled."

"I don’t know who the hell you are, but this is none of your business. Got me?" He tried to drop his voice, but it didn’t quite work.

Gwen burst out laughing. "Sorry. Sorry."

They retook their places and Reed waited for her cue.

Reed could hear the ragged tiredness in the director’s voice as the cue came. "Action."

"Who the fuck are you?"

"A friend." Once again Reed moved across to where Gwen was and projected the same edgy menace that she had before. "Who doesn’t like to see other friends being manhandled."

"I don’t know who the hell you are, but this is none of your business. Got me?"

"Cut," Jae called. "Reed can I get you not to drop your voice so low?"

"You want me to change the character because he can’t act?"

"No. I want you to change it because I don’t want that level of menace until later. I want Kyle underestimating Dar."

Reed turned her back on the director and took up her place again.

"Action."

"Who the fuck are you?"

"A friend." Reed re-approached Gwen and dropped her voice a register. "Who doesn’t like to see other friends being manhandled."

"I don’t know who the hell you are, but this is none of your business. Got me?"

"You know, my father had a name for people like you, but you probably don’t want to hear what it was."

"Cut."

Now what? Reed watched as Jae came over, and spoke quietly to Gwen, rotating her slightly so that more of the doorway was visible between them. Then the director turned toward her.

"Not quite so angrily. Try it more conversationally. He gets angry, you stay in control. Bait him. Okay, once more from ‘who’." Jae’s voice was calm, undemanding and professional.

Reed swallowed her surprise. She’d expected to begin receiving the same treatment from Jae that she had gotten from Roan. Figured that Jae would stop being nice once she no longer had anything to gain.

Probably just another ploy. She needs you to keep filming or her career is toast.

Or maybe she is just doing her job, same as me.

Maybe. But don’t count on it.

The noise level on the set suddenly dropped, and Reed broke out of her reverie to see the executive producer come onto the set. Rod Chambers had a magazine clenched in his right hand, cheeks red in anger.

He stopped in front of Jae and slammed the magazine down on a table. "What in the hell is this?"

Not waiting for an answer, Chambers carried on past the director until he was standing toe to toe with Reed, his dark eyes a couple of inches below hers. "What were you thinking? Assuming, of course, that you were."

A number of responses darted through her mind, most of them geared toward allowing her free rein of her temper and a legitimate chance to escape the set with its associated stress of remaining professionally detached from her emotional responses to Jae. "I was thinking we haven’t been properly introduced. And you’re standing a little too close, for someone I don’t know."

Chambers’ face got even redder, but to his credit, he didn’t explode. Pity, she thought. Over his shoulder the actress could make out Jae talking on her cell, hand cupped around the receiver. Suddenly she wished her response had been more antagonistic - if she were going to get hung out to dry, better to go out swinging.

"I want to see you in my office, now." He turned on a heel and made his way back across the set. Before he could leave, Jae intercepted him.

"The interview was done with my consent and participation. If you want to take someone to task, it should be me."

Jae’s intercession surprised her again. The blonde was not behaving the way she expected, and it unnerved her more than she cared to admit.

The executive producer gave the director a strange look, then jerked his head for her to follow as well. Reed ignored the reassuring smile that Jae tried to give her, and concentrated instead on the dark pinstripe suit of the executive producer.

He led them to a well-appointed corner office down the hall from Jae’s and motioned for them to sit. Reed took a minute to look around gaining information about the executive producer from the way his office was decorated.

"So, who wants to go first?" The relaxed posture was in direct contrast to the anger he had displayed on the set, and which the actress sensed was still seething under the deceptively calm surface.

"I apologize for not keeping you more closely informed, and we haven’t seen the full text of the ‘Up Close’ article yet. But basically they were hounding Ms. Lewis, she came to me, and we solved the problem."

"By giving a lurid interview to a rag?"

"That information was going to come out anyway. We were able to control how much digging they did and hopefully kept the worst buried."

He looked to her for confirmation and Reed nodded her head, backing Jae up, the irony not lost on the actress.

There was a knock on the door, and Chambers yelled a terse, "come in."

Caitlynn Waters entered the room, loose paper sheets in one hand. "Here’s the LA Times response article. Thom just faxed through our advance copy."

"Thank-you, Cait." Jae turned to Chambers and handed him the article. "We then had someone close to Ms. Lewis essentially give a rebuttal interview - fleshing out and putting a different spin on the details that ‘Up Close’ used - effectively scooping them and leaving our..." the director indicated everyone in the room, "version the one the public remembers."

"I see." The executive producer steepled his hands and rested them under his chin, eyes locked on Jae. "So there’s no truth to the allegation that you are lovers? That Roan bequeathed his toy to you?"

"What?" Jae flinched, then looked over at Reed, giving her an apologetic look.

"You didn’t know? See for yourself." He tossed the magazine over.

Jae picked it up, eyes scanning the page. "He left Blackmon pictures to me?"

"According to their sources, yes, Blackmon and all of its assets - of which she is apparently one. Mix that with a sexual angle and it could be trouble. If you own her contract, you shouldn’t be sleeping with her - it reinforces a negative stereotype, one we are trying to break down with this picture." He grinned wryly in recognition of how Hollywood really worked under the surface. "Not that a scandalous set romance ever hurt a picture at the box office."

The only thing that kept Reed in her chair was the obvious shock on both Caitlynn and Jae’s faces. Was I the only one in Hollywood who didn’t know Jae is gay? Apparently. Chambers didn’t seem the least bit upset about the lesbian angle - just the publicity one.

"We’re just friends. It’s a business relationship," Jae hastily amended. "And I’ll void out the personal services contract immediately. We already adjusted the picture-specific contract. We were just waiting to find out who would be left in control of Blackmon to handle the other one."

Reed listened to them discuss the situation, and decided to remain silent, lost for the time being in thought. So why didn’t she hang me out to dry? She missed the remainder of the talk, only coming back into the room as Jae’s chair scraped the floor when she stood to leave. Following suit, she also stood, then filed out behind the other two women when they left the office.

"Holy shit, Jae, he left you Blackmon." Cait shook her head incredulously.

"We don’t know that for sure. The will won’t be officially read until later - after the service. And if it’s true, the first order of business is to get rid of that contract."

Green eyes turned her way, and for a minute Reed was tempted to smile back. Angry with herself for the thought, she snapped, "It changes nothing, Jae. Nothing." She moved away from the director and continued on her path out of the bungalow.

Jae swung her legs out of the car, careful not to crease the knee length skirt or create a run in her stockings. She slipped off her sandals, trading them for a pair of beige low-heeled pumps.

A well-maintained path wound through manicured lawns, and the blonde followed it to where a small group of mourners had gathered. She took a place at the back of the group and quietly waited for the service to begin. Trust Roan to opt for a graveside service. A showman to the last. That Roan was being buried almost a month after he died was, in fact, due to the precise instructions he left in his will. It had taken that long to assemble everyone named in the will, and for all of his relatives to be notified.

A priest in a white stole and long robe spoke a few words in Latin, then was replaced by a man who looked enough like Roan to be his twin. Jae listened with half an ear, still unsure what had made her come at all. Her feelings about Roan were decidedly mixed. The progression of speakers continued until she sensed it was her turn. Mind in turmoil she stepped forward. How do I eulogize a man that I am beginning to despise?

So much had happened in the last twenty-four hours, in the last week, that she still hadn’t come to grips with how she felt about Roan. Is Reed right? Am I subconsciously like him? She knew that her motives appeared questionable, but none of her behaviour had been the result of wanting to use or manipulate Reed.

The faces of the other mourners were indistinct through the tears she was surprised to find she was shedding. No matter what he was to you Reed, he was still my mentor, and friend. And I don’t give those up easily. No? Then why have you just accepted Reed’s anger and taken all the blame?

Jae sensed that the others were waiting so she stepped forward and touched the satiny surface of the ornate ebony chest that contained her mentor’s ashes. "I knew him for years, and to my sorrow found that I didn’t know him at all."

She was burying more than a mentor or a friend. In that moment, watching the sunlight glint off the polished wood, she realized that she was saying goodbye to an ideal. And that hurt.

Numb, Jae walked away from the service, unable to watch as the small chest was lowered into the ground and unaware of the curious eyes that followed her retreating form until it was out of sight.

She didn’t remember the drive home and tiredly mounted the stairs to her bedroom. The answering machine flashed its red beacon-light in urgent semaphore, but she ignored it. Bits and pieces of clothing were left in her wake until finally she reached the loft and fell gratefully onto the bed.

Today had been the sort of day she hoped never to repeat. It’s a good thing I’m blonde - or the gray hair I earned today would be showing. She’d survived it, even though it had cut deeply to be so thoroughly rebuffed by Reed. Her note had gone unanswered, but then she hadn’t really expected a few words on a piece of paper to erase the mistakes she’d spent weeks making. One hand snaked under a pillow and drew it closer, and she closed her eyes, trying to let go of the tension of the day.

Sleep was a long time coming. Her mind was awhirl with images. Reed’s eyes, the photos, storyboards for the last two weeks of filming, Roan’s grave and the turmoil of self-examination played over and over in her head, like the chorus of a song, keeping Morpheus at bay, until she finally dropped off into a fitful sleep.

A wild montage of images whirled through her dreams, snatches of accusation and Roan’s mocking face overlayed intense fear. Her eyes opened, startled, and she studied the end of the bed, focusing on the emerging outline of wood. She could still hear Roan’s nightmare voice, a low rumble that confirmed her worst fears...you’re finally like me.

The bedsheets clung to her skin, wet with perspiration. Jae sat up in the cloying heat and tried to clear the echo of her dream out of her mind and ears. Is that what Reed goes through every night?

She got out of bed, wrapping the blue sarong around her hips and walked out onto the small balcony that opened off of her bedroom. The night air was heavy, without the slightest hint of a breeze, and the heat felt like a weight on her shoulders. Snippets of the dream continued to play, making her reluctant to go back to bed.

It had been vivid and surreal - even for her. Peering through the open portal into her room, she looked at the clock. Three a.m. Jae moved back inside, leaving the door open behind her to air out the nervous fear she could feel in the room. Leaving the top floor, Jae went to get a guitar. It wasn’t until she got downstairs that she remembered she hadn’t picked up her guitars after the benefit. Which left only one option to distract her from the disquieting voice of Roan.

Jae finished wrapping her hands and made sure the velcro tabs were securely fastened. The white tape ate what little moonlight glimmered from the smog-hazed night sky and glowed slightly in the dark.

Limber from a light stretching routine, she went to work on the bag, using the repetitive motions and pattern of kicks and punches to settle her mind. The steady whap of her hands and feet against the leather filled the night with a cadence that unwittingly brought back the words she had heard in her dream. The more garish images were fading and most of the words lingered just out of reach, only impressions remained of most of it.

I am not like you, she asserted, pounding the bag. And I refuse to pay for your crimes.

She hit the bag again, making it swing with the violent impact of her foot against its hardness. I’m tired of having my actions judged against your misdeeds. The blows were coming so fast and hard that the bag appeared to be standing still. Before it could move in one direction another jab would change the bag’s course, only to be hit again, once more altering the path. I’m tired of feeling guilty, tired... Jae stopped, and rested one hand on the bag to stop its motion.

That was it. I feel guilty. She laughed out loud and shouted at the dream messenger, "I’m not like you!" It was the guilt that separated them. The guilt that had given her a twisted musical nightmare and the guilt that accepted Reed’s anger unchallenged.

Jae had never been so glad to feel guilty in her whole life.

So what are you going to do about it?

… … …

"So what are you going to do now?"

It was a rhetorical question whose solid sound in the air anchored her reaction and gave her something to focus on other than the tears that threatened to escape. Reed looked at the docking station, then at her laptop. Jae had been here, silently returning her things, after she had left to go to wardrobe. On the table she could see the key resting on cream coloured paper.

I should take it out and return it.

Ooh that’s good - cut your nose off to spite your face.

Fine, the docking station stays. She left them untouched and wandered through the small trailer.

In the bedroom, Reed gathered the clothes she had discarded earlier and stuffed them into a plastic bag. The shirt that Jae had borrowed and slept in hung from the door knob. It smelled faintly of vanilla and sandalwood, the fragrances of both their perfumes lingering on the white cotton.

It wasn’t all her fault, you know.

Reed shied away from that train of thought and collected the rest of her belongings before digging out the cell phone to call one of the wranglers for a lift to the house. It was, after all, what assistants to the assistant assistant wrangler did now that horses were a thing of the past.

A cheery youth met her at the front door of the production company's bungalow and she noticed that Jae’s Saturn was already gone. That’s odd. Jae is always here.

She gave the boy her address and then ignored him for the rest of the trip, though she was amused by the covert appreciative looks he periodically cast in her direction. The right look and I would have the rest of my afternoon filled. But for what? To prove I’m not gay? She didn’t need proof badly enough to have sex with some kid who barely qualified to drink publicly.

And would it really be proof? Came the mental rejoinder.

They were driving against the flow of traffic, the lanes and freeways sparsely occupied as the commuters either had not begun their treks home or were headed in the opposite direction, so the drive passed relatively quickly. Reed nodded politely, uttered a cordial, "Thank-you," as she got out of the vehicle and headed into the house.

She dropped the cell onto its charger as she cut through the living room to the bathroom. Reed thought about her options. Do I stay here or go back to the hotel? This morning it had looked like the hotel would be home for a few days. Now it seemed that Jae wasn’t going to push and that they could at least work in relative peace.

Hot water filled the large tub and steam filled the room, the cedar paneling releasing its scent under the humidity. Reed sank into the water, its nearly scalding heat soothing her muscles and skin. Music from the Enya CD swelled and echoed nicely from the walls of the house. Jae had introduced her to the artist during one of their late night gab sessions in Orlando, and she’d hung onto the CD after they had gotten back.

Why did you have to be like him? I would have done...what? Anything. Just because you asked. You didn’t need to manipulate me.

But it had all been a lie.

Reed lost track of how long she had been soaking in the tub, only stirring as the water began to cool. Drip-drying in the LA heat, she strolled to her bedroom and grabbed a dress from the closet. The silk hung loosely and felt good against her skin, its black sheen a perfect match for her hair.

After the various taxicabs and drivers over the last couple of days, it felt good to get behind the wheel again. The Range Rover’s precision steering and powerful engine hurtled smoothly along the freeway, and she let the task of driving absorb her attention fully.

It hadn’t been hard to find out where Roan’s memorial service was being held, and Reed pulled into the parking lot of the cemetery. The service had already started by the time she found the gravesite, and she hung back, watching but not joining the small group clustered about his headstone.

Jae’s blonde hair attracted the sun, and the actress spotted her immediately. Reed wondered if the director knew how expressive her posture was, tension and anxiety were easily readable, even from a distance. To the front, a dais held a darkly gleaming box, too small to be a casket, which most likely held the cremated remains of Roan Pirsig.

He was gone and it was over. So why are you making her pay for his mistakes?

I’m not. She lied to me. Pure and simple. Lied to get what she wanted. End of story.

And you had nothing to do with it?

There was movement in the group and Reed broke off her running mental argument to watch as Jae stepped forward to speak.

"I knew him for years, and to my sorrow found that I didn’t know him at all." One hand had touched the chest briefly then dropped back to Jae’s side.

Even from the distance of the tree she was lurking next to, Reed could tell that Jae was in pain. The lost look on the blonde’s face cut deeply and the words carried on the wind left the actress confused. She had expected Jae to wait around to claim the spoils, but her confusion grew as the director left the service before its conclusion.

Curious, Reed watched as Jae left, her own emotions a whirling mix of conflicting desires. She couldn’t just turn her feelings on and off - no matter how she could make it appear - and right now she wanted...what exactly? It was a good question and one she didn’t have the answer to.

Not until the last of the mourners and crew had left the grave, did Reed venture forward, unsure of what drew her to the fresh mound. Roan Laurent Pirsig. Too Soon Gone. There were no specific dates, just the years bracketing his life. 1962-1999. It was simpler than she would have supposed, given his flair for the dramatic and bold showmanship. But then its very simplicity stood out in the panicked opulence of this corner of a cemetery dedicated to the rich and famous, so maybe it wasn’t so out of character after all.

Unexpectedly, tears began to fall and the headstone wavered through the watery haze. The ache in her throat confused her. Why now? After all this time? It might have been the overwhelming emotionality of the last few days, but she thought it ran deeper. She just couldn’t put her finger on why she would grieve for a man she hated.

It never occurred to her that she might be grieving for the girl he had stolen or the woman she had become.
 

Jae looked up from the editing machine. The second unit director, Michael Hurtowski was standing in the doorframe, his expression hesitant, and she felt her stomach clench slightly in anticipation.

"What’s up?" she asked with an optimism she didn’t feel. He was shooting one of the confrontations between Kyle and Dar, and given the tension that pervaded the set today, Jae didn’t hold out much hope that the news would be good.

It was a scene that given her background in martial arts that she would normally have shot, but the actor portraying Kyle had proved to be moody and reluctant to shoot an action scene directed by a woman. It was easier to let someone else co-ordinate the blocking and rehearsals, while she concentrated on filming the pivotal conflict tomorrow.

"She’s a clutz."

"A clutz?" Jae hadn't expected that.

"Her leg goes up..." Michael motioned with his hands, then suddenly let them drop, simulating a fall. "And wham. She goes down."

Oh boy. To drop the blocking would render the scene totally ineffectual. The audience had to see Kyle attacking Dar. And Reed as Dar had to make the audience believe in her strength and determination. To use body doubles and stunt performers for the whole thing would limit her shots and increase the difficulty of the edit, while reducing the material she would have to work with.

"That bad?" Jae had just assumed that a woman as tall and toned as Reed had some athletic background. The actress certainly moved like she was in control of her body.

"Unbelievable."

Jae turned off the tape machine and stood, cracking her back as the vertebra slid into place.

The second unit director winced in sympathy. "Ouchers."

"I’ve been neglecting my own work-outs lately." Which was sort of true. Jae had neglected them more than usual during the early part of filming, with first Reed, then the long days and outside schedule, distracting her from any serious conditioning work. But over the last couple of days she had used brute physicality to bring on exhausted dreamless slumber. Her body wasn’t impressed, and aching muscles and abused joints were protesting the savage treatment. "Let’s go take a look."

The brief antagonistic flare-ups of Sunday had settled into a cold war of sorts. A social détente in which lines had been drawn and sides chosen. Reed seemed oblivious to the quiet support of her co-star and others, spoke only when spoken to, and when not required to be on the set, disappeared into her trailer. Amazingly enough, the film continued to proceed on schedule. In a bizarre way it served to justify Jae’s original faith in the actress. She was a professional.

Together they left the technical offices behind and headed for the soundstage. About halfway, Jae stopped, reached out and touched his arm, bringing him to a halt. "Other than that, how does she seem?"

Brown eyes regarded her thoughtfully, as if trying to gauge what he could and could not say. Which, thought Jae, is hardly surprising given my reaction last time he said something negative about her.

"When the camera is rolling, fine. Better than fine. Otherwise..." He shrugged his shoulders. "Who knows?"

That fit. As far as Jae knew, Reed had only Heidi and Geoff in her circle of friends. Whatever the actress was going through - she was going it alone. Even Holly seemed to be getting the cold shoulder - the scriptwriter paying for the director’s transgression the same way Jae was paying for Roan’s.

Her companion continued, unaware of her thoughts. "In fact, I have to give her credit. We’ve been over that scene at least twenty times, and not once has she refused to try again."

Jae laughed. "Who’d have thought getting her to kick someone would be harder than getting her to kiss them."

He chuckled back, then held the studio door open for her to enter first, before responding in a pseudo-sage-like manner. "A true mystery of life."

… … …

Reed moved to the side of the stage. It was the first time all week that she hadn’t left the building as soon as cut had been called. But the director of the second unit had said he’d be right back, so the actress found a quiet spot away from everyone else and sat down on an spare applebox.

Around her, she could hear the murmur of various conversations, the steady noise filling the large space. Off to one side, Holly was playing with a video camera, but kept it pointed away from Reed. Instead the scriptwriter seemed content to shoot footage of the technical crew who were doing the real filming.

She continued to watch the activity, tucked away in her vantagepoint, all but hidden from the crew. Head tilted against a large wooden beam, Reed stretched her long legs out to ease the ache that had crept into the overworked muscles. The scraping of wood against concrete broke the quiet, as a couple of grips began shifting set material to her left.

"What’s up with Cavanaugh and Lewis?"

"Dunno. Honeymoon must be over."

"Too bad. Lewis actually looked like she was developing a sense of humour."

One of the people chuckled. "Yeah, her slipping tongue to Pooh bear was pretty fucking funny."

"And that kiss. Wow!"

"I know. Man, what I wouldn’t give to get kissed like that by my girl."

"Some women have all the fucking luck."

The crewmen moved out of earshot and the rest of the conversation was lost in the growing distance and the noise of the partition they were dragging with them. The actress watched the retreating forms incredulously. They think that we’re having a lover’s quarrel.

Hey, look on the bright side - they didn’t call you the Amazon Ice Queen. "Some bright side," she muttered to herself. Reed stepped out of the shadows as Jae entered the studio with Hurtowski, both laughing over something. Jae’s smile slipped a little as she caught sight of Reed, and the director stiffly waved her over.

"Michael tells me that the staging of this scene seems to be a problem"

"It’s not the staging. She’s a clutz." The jibe came from offstage.

Reed shot Himler a dirty look, daring him to comment again. The actor merely leaned back in his chair, smirking, and for a second she hoped it would collapse under his obnoxious ass.

The blonde director shook her head. "There is a difference between being untrained and being a clutz. I should have checked this sooner."

"Whatever."

Jae ignored the comment and called places. Reed took up her stance and waited for action to be called. She was acutely aware of Jae and tried to focus on the scene instead of on the director.

"Action."

Bending one knee, Reed leaned over slightly and thrust her leg outwards, once again losing her balance. A twinge of pain shot through her groin and she pursed her lips to keep from showing her discomfort.

"You’re overbalancing." Jae moved closer, the awkward way she moved telegraphing hesitancy. In spite of the awkwardness, the director shifted her weight and brought one leg up at a ninety-degree angle to her body. "Keep your weight centered here." She touched her lower abdomen.

Reed studied the director’s movements as Jae repeated the maneuver. The blonde was balanced and perfectly still, no tremble or strain evident in the fluid motion.

"Now you." Jae indicated she should try again.

Around them the crew was watching, and the earlier comments from two of the grips made Reed feel like every eye was focused on their interaction, the curious stares given weight by the innuendo. She put aside the discomfort and tried again. Her leg got partway up before she lost her balance and started to topple forward.

Strong hands stopped her forward progress, righting her, then quickly let go. "Sorry. " Jae dropped her hands like she’d been scalded and took a backwards step.

Their eyes met for a moment, and Reed nodded then looked away quickly.

"See, a clutz." Himler spoke derisively from where he lounged in his chair. "Or maybe you need a man to handle - action."

A titter broke across the area, the nervous laughter a signal to Reed that the power structure on the set was changing. She wondered why Jae had left the action sequences to Hurtowski despite the involvement of a big name actor like Himler. Did Jae realize that if she lost control to Himler, then she wouldn’t get it back - her credibility would be eroded?

What do you care?

I don’t. I’m just not going to listen to that loudmouth for the next week.

"Why? Is there one here?" Reed drawled, looking around.

Jae’s eyes widened in surprise, then she turned in Himler’s direction. "No insults on my set. But..." she gestured with one hand, "feel free to repeat that tone in an actual scene. It was perfect."

Reed raised her own eyebrows in surprise; snarky comments were not normally Jae’s style. She took a closer look at the director, seeing the tension and exhaustion that ringed the blonde’s eyes with dark circles. A tired and cranky director was the last thing she needed to work with, so Reed clamped down on her own desire to take a potshot at Jae. "Teach me."

"Teach you? But--"

Reed lowered her voice so only Jae could hear the next words. "If you don’t teach me how to do this - he wins - and you lose control. So get on with it."

"I’d need to - touch you."

She froze, meeting Jae’s eyes for longer than a second or two for the first time since the revelation on Saturday. "No." Reed could feel every eye in the studio on them, and the overheard comments of the grips came to mind. She was damned if she did, and damned if she didn’t.

Jae nodded in understanding and backed away. "We’ll sort something out"

To the side Himler sniggered, and Reed made her decision - she'd have to let Jae touch her. "I’ve got better things to do than wait around. Just make it quick."

"Turn around," Jae instructed, nervous quaver resonating under the rich texture of her voice.

Reed complied, muscles tensed slightly. Jae’s hands seemed to take forever to reach her hips, then the soft weight settled over the light twill shorts and the director guided the actress through the movement.

Halfway through, Jae halted the motion. "Right here. Feel it?"

She flexed her knee slightly, testing the feel of her body as it moved through the point the director had indicated.  It did feel different, almost as though she was part of the floor and air at the same time. "Yes"

"Good." Jae stepped back, removing her hands from Reed’s waist. "Now I want you to repeat the move, then just before you get to the balance point, extend your leg. As you extend, let your body sink into its center of gravity."

Green eyes were watching her intently and Reed did as she was told, bringing her right leg up in a kicking motion. It took a little longer this time, but she began to topple over, and once again she felt Jae’s hands steady her.

"Good. Now try it again a little more slowly. I’ve got you."

Reed froze at the familiar words, then moved into place before Jae could see her reaction. She half closed her eyes in a mix of concentration and denial. Three little words. She had wanted them to be true. Wanted them true in a way that left her confused and at a loss. Her body sank into the remembered safety of Jae’s touch, and Reed pulled away, angry at the self-betrayal.

"I can do it myself." And she did. Lashing out with one foot instinctively, trying not to see the quiet hurt in Jae’s eyes.

They went through it a few more times, each run smoother than the last, until it felt to Reed like her leg was going to fall off.

Jae had retreated to the edge of the stage to watch, once more observing the physical distance that had sprung up between them over the last few days.

It was unnerving. There were no crying apologies, no denials, nothing - just a silence between them that was so loud Reed thought it would deafen her. On edge, she thrust her leg out viciously and felt the twinge of pain explode in an agonizing jolt.

Reed fell to the floor, a soft grunt escaping before she could call it back.

A flurry of activity erupted around her as the studio medical team was paged and numerous people she didn’t know hovered over her in a mix of morbid curiousity and genuine concern. The press of bodies made her even angrier, and she inched back slightly to get some space.

"Let her have some breathing room," Jae instructed, squatting down next to where she had fallen. "You okay?" One hand had come to rest on Reed’s shoulder, eyes searching her frame for sign of injury.

"Don’t touch me."

Jae pulled her hand back. "I -"

"I don’t care what you were doing. I’m fine." In spite of the pain, she stood and began to make her way off the set.

To exit the area, she had to pass the screenwriter, who stood, camera lowered, watching her.

"What?" Reed barked.

Holly looked at her intently. "You know. I never figured you for stupid. An occasional bitch, yes. Stupid, no."

There didn’t seem to be an answer for that, and she had to get back to the trailer before she fell. Some of the pain must have flashed across her face, because Holly’s expression changed and the brunette suddenly slung one arm under the actress’ elbow.

Reed went to move her arm, but was pinned in place by both pain and the surprising strength of the writer’s grip. "Holly." she said warningly.

"Shut up, Reed. Anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?" Holly began to steer them towards an exit, unobtrusively supporting Reed’s weight.

Stunned, she laughed, then shook her head. "No. I have been told many things, but that’s not one of them." Capitulating, she allowed Holly to help her off the set, and towards the trailer. "You’re not hauling me out here for a sensitive chat are you?"

"Why? Just because you’re acting like a total idiot doesn’t mean I’m going to say anything about it."

"Good."

They had reached the trailer, and Holly took the keys from her hand and unlocked the door. The pain in her leg was making it difficult to stand, so she slumped onto the settee, gingerly extending the limb.

"Hurts, huh?"

"Yes," the actress admitted.

"Any particular reason you opted to tough it out rather than let Jae get you medical attention?"

"Must be part of me being stupid."

"Ah. I actually thought it was part of the Ice Queen thing. Now the potshots at Jae - those I thought were stupidity."

Reed regarded the tall brunette thoughtfully. She’d been avoiding Holly, the screenwriter a vivid reminder of the implosion of her relationship with Jae. Only Holly wasn’t creeping her out. Her reactions to the other woman were the same as they had always been. A bit weird, true - but the same nevertheless. "Siddown. You’re making me nervous, hovering."

Holly sat on the lone chair, giving Reed space. "You sure you want to be alone in here with me? Folks might get the wrong idea."

Reed snorted softly, lifting a brow sardonically. "I’ve already been tarred by that brush."

There was a soft knock at the door and Reed stiffened, her heart rate increasing. It would be just like Jae to follow her. Then the absurdity of the thought washed away the adrenaline. Jae won’t follow me. Not now.

"You going to answer that?" Holly looked at her quizzically.

"Could you?" She pointed at her leg. The muscles were already tightening and Reed wasn’t entirely sure she could stand up.

"No problem. I need to get going anyway. And Reed, don’t be stupid. Get that looked at, huh?"

"Later."

"Unh hunh." The screenwriter shook her head, curls moving from side to side. "At least take some Advil then."

"Deal. Who is it?"

Holly peered through a lacy curtain. "Cait Waters."

Cait was surprised when Holly opened the trailer door. "Reed here?"

"Yeah."

She let Holly move past then mounted the steps, and paused at the door. Reed was lounging on the short sofa, the air thick with tension, and Cait wondered what Holly and the actress had been discussing.

"Come in. I won’t bite."

"No. Punching is more your style, I gather."

"That what she told you?"

"No, she hasn’t really told me much at all. The busted lip sort of spoke for itself."

"What do you want?"

"Jae asked me to bring this over." She extended the hand with the voided contract, and dropped it on the table in front of the actress when Reed made no move to take it. "I need you to sign pages ten and twelve and initial where I’ve put tabs."

"Too chicken to face me herself?"

Cait leaned in slightly, anger colouring her tones. "I have no idea what she saw in you, and frankly I’m glad you turned out to be such a shallow bitch."

"She fucking you?" Reed drawled.

That did it. Cait had had enough. If the two of them were going to behave like children, then she would treat them that way. Between Jae’s angst filled guilt trip and Reed’s petulant brooding, it was starting to feel like a soap opera. "No. I had my chance. But Jae has ethics. Not that that’s a concept you would understand."

"Some ethics. She used me."

"Really?" Cait purred. "Seemed like a two-way street to me. Or do you really believe it was all her? Tell me, did Jae ever do anything you didn’t want?"

Though the blue eyes darkened dangerously, the actress didn’t respond.

"I didn’t think so. She’s funny that way." Caitlynn didn’t wait for Reed to throw her out. She pushed the contract across the table and left, letting the door slam behind her.

"Ouch. That was harsh." Holly was standing against a tree, eavesdropping. Together, they headed back toward the set.

"Desperate times require desperate measures."

"She really hit Jae?"

Cait considered the question and the director’s original response to it. Reed hadn’t denied it, but instinct told her that whatever had led to Jae’s busted lip, it wasn’t something as simple as a punch. "No."

"Think they’ll sort it out?" Holly asked.

"Miss Guilt and Ms. In the Closet? Who knows? They’d have to talk first, and I don’t see that happening any time soon."

"I know. I want to walk up to Reed and say, ‘I have two words for you - latent homosexuality.’ "

"Oh Gods. I’d pay to see her face. You see it too?" Cait started to laugh.

"Let’s just say I PING the two of them and get 100% response."

Cait stopped laughing, and grew serious. "I’ve known Jae a long time, and I’ve never seen her respond to anyone the way she does to Reed. And it’s not all sexual."

Holly nodded. "No, it’s not. And I think that’s what would really suck, if they lost the friendship. Connections like that are hard to come by."

They had reached the office bungalow and Holly stopped, half turned toward the parking lot. "Later. Oh, and Cait, I think Reed’s hurt a lot worse then she let on. Might want to have someone check on her later."

"Sure," she acknowledged the remark, slightly confused. The actress had seemed fine. A little pale, but Cait had chalked it up to fatigue and a long day combined with the residue of the verbal sparring match they had engaged in. She absently lost the train of thought, distracted by movement up ahead.

A tall thin woman with electric blue hair was just leaving the building, and an enigmatic smile graced the fine features. Cait watched Becky leave and shook her head.

"Now there goes trouble. Wonder what she wanted?"

… … …

Jae sat slumped on the couch, one foot tucked under her body, eyes fixed on the tapestry that hung on the opposite wall. The threads chased each other around the large fabric, providing a visual distraction as she tried to follow the weave.

For a brief moment today, things had felt almost normal between the two of them again, the tension swept aside in the need to do a job. Then it had all come apart, the icy mask returning to Reed’s features.

"You look awful."

Jae jumped, startled. "That’s rich, coming from someone with blue hair. What do you want Becky?"

"I came to see how you were doing," was the simple response. Becky folded her lithe form onto the opposite end of the couch. "And to talk."

"Talk?" She looked over at her ex.

"Yeah, you know - that thing we used to be able to do."

"Talk? What do you really want?" Jae looked at Becky, waiting for the woman to get to the point.

"A part." Becky sat down across from her. "And I need to talk to you."

Jae considered. There had been no part while they were lovers, but now? "See Cait, she'll get you some walk on work."

"Thanks." Sinuous in her movements, Becky tucked one foot under her body and rested her chin on a raised knee. "I need to ask you something."

"What?" Wary, she unconsciously crossed her arms over her chest.

"It wasn’t because of her, was it?"

There was a plaintive quality to the question, and for the first time since they’d broken up, Jae got a glimpse of what the sudden ending of their relationship had seemed like to Becky. "No. I promise."

Becky nodded. "Thank-you."

"You’re welcome." She paused and regarded her ex-lover thoughtfully. "This is going to sound really lame, but it wasn’t you."

"It does sound lame. But it helps. A little." Two fingers were held a fraction of an inch apart. "Bout this much." But the amused grin belied any malicious intent behind the words. "You got it bad, don’t you?"

It wasn’t an angry accusation or even a jibe, and Jae leaned her head back against the fabric covering of the couch, while she decided how to answer. "I don’t know."

"No, I guess you wouldn’t." Becky spoke quietly. "I was really angry when I saw the two of you Saturday. Actually, I was pretty pissed for a couple of days." She smiled and shrugged.

For an instant, seeing the impish grin, Jae was reminded of some of the good times they had shared and she smiled back. "I bet. So what changed?" she asked, curious. Becky had never been predictable and this conversation was no exception.

Becky shrugged. "I can’t have you. I don’t think anyone ever has. But she does. Can I give you a piece of advice?"

"Can I stop you?" The banter was without rancour, following a joking form that they had established long ago.

"No." Becky reached across the gulf that had sprung up between the two of them, bridging it with a light touch and a gentle look. "Fight for her."

"It’s not that simple, Becky."

"Yes it is. For once in your life, Jae, don’t run from what someone makes you feel." The actress’ fingers trailed over the side of Jae’s cheek, cupping her jaw momentarily before disengaging. Then Becky stood and left the room, leaving Jae both dumfounded and bemused.

Fight for her? Question was - fight for what? Was there anything between them to fight for? Yes. Friendship. How?

Jae stood and paced around the room. She’d never chased a woman in her life, and wasn’t particularly sure how to go about it. Deep in concentration, she didn’t hear Caitlynn knock at the door.

"Hey."

She jumped again, yelling out in surprise. "Aghhh!"

"Wow. I didn’t know humans could hit that range," Cait teased, ducking the swat Jae leveled in her direction.

"Whap."

Cait grew serious for a second, nodding toward the door. "Was that...?"

"Becky. Yes."

"What did she want?"

"A job. I told her to you'll set her up with some walk on stuff." Jae canted her head slightly, eyes narrowed mischievously. "She thinks I should fight for Reed."

Cait’s eyes widened in surprise. "No shit?"

"Nope." Jae returned to the couch, and spread her arms wide. "Got any ideas?"

"Now that’s a switch. What happened to the ‘I’m not worthy’ guilty routine?"

Jae ran a hand through her hair, a gesture that made her seem both vulnerable and cute. "I’m not Roan, and if I’m going to be punished, it’s going to be for something I did."

"You don’t feel feverish." Cait held the palm of her hand against Jae’s forehead.

"Ha ha."

"No bumps."

Jae stood patiently while Cait felt around her skull. "Are you quite finished?"

"Yep." She grinned cheekily and flopped onto the couch. "So tell me more. How exactly do you plan to woo the Ice Queen?"

"I haven’t the faintest idea."

"It’s definitely going to take more than chocolates and flowers. You could try the Romeo and Juliet thing."

"What? Double suicide?"

"I was thinking poetry and music."

"Music?"

"They do say that music soothes the savage breast. Maybe you can sing your way out of your little rift."

"I’m good Cait, but not that good." They had curled up on the couch. It felt good to sit and talk to Cait. Things had been unusually tense between the two of them over the last couple of days, and Jae had missed their easy working relationship.

"Yeah. You’re right. No one is that good."

They fell silent, just sitting quietly while they mulled over the idea. It was nearly dark outside, and Jae watched the shadows in the room lengthen, while dust motes danced in the last of the day’s light. It was one of her favorite pastimes. The patterns created by the sparkling sunlight and the bobbing dust were always different, a reminder that even in everyday things there was always something new. She broke off her self-indulgent eye-play and rolled her head to the side, looking at her assistant. "What’s up with you?"

"Hunh?" Cait answered, startled.

"Last couple of days you haven’t seemed yourself. Everything okay?" Jae felt guilty. She’d been so absorbed in the stuff with Reed and the movie that she hadn’t really taken the time to check in with Cait.

"Nothing a week off wouldn’t cure. Planning a wedding while filming is a bitch. Remind me again how much prestige there is in being the AD on a major film."

"There’s lots and lots of prestige to being the AD on a major film," Jae repeated deadpan.

"That’s what I thought." Cait paused. "Fancy a drink and some dinner?"

Jae mulled over the offer, deciding that a low-key evening might be just what the doctor ordered. "Sushi?" she asked hopefully.

"Only if you promise not to order those vile flying fish egg things."

"I never order them - they just come on the plate. Besides, they add colour."

"Reed like sushi?"

"I don’t know."

"Ah, well there’s a starting point. All battle plans need starting points."

Jae had the funny feeling that having Cait help her with Reed might not be, in fact, as good an idea in practice as it had seemed in theory. "Umm Cait, about the Reed thing. Let’s just drop it okay?"

"Sure," Cait agreed amiably. "But I can still start a betting pool, right?"

The director groaned and flipped off the light, locking the office door behind them.

Reed sat, stunned, as the door swung shut. The loud click acted as an emphasis to Cait’s parting words. Did Jae ever once do anything that you didn’t want?

There it was, stark and undeniable truth. Whatever had been developing between them, she had been a willing participant. Okay. Now what?

The pain in her leg made it difficult for her to sit the way she was, so Reed cautiously stood and limped to the counter, rummaging in an overhead cupboard for the painkillers she knew were there. A deep swig of water from the tap washed the uncoated tablets down, and a second swallow erased the residue from her mouth and throat.

Gingerly resting her weight on the couch, she drew the leg upwards, supporting it with one hand, then let it drop softly onto the padded cushion. It was too short for her to rest the full length on the settee, and her foot hung off the end, allowing her to let one shoe drop onto the floor with an audible thud. Still mulling, Reed leaned forward and removed the other shoe, sending it to join its partner with a negligent flick of her wrist.

"Now what, indeed?" Reed closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the overstuffed pillows. "Thirty fucking years old is a little late to be re-examining my life choices." She’d just have to do this the rational way. Given - I’m straight. Given - Jae is not. She snorted, if this were a math class, I’d be flunking, ‘cause those two givens didn’t add up and she knew it.

Alrighty then, plan B. Why exactly am I mad at Jae and not at Holly? They’re both dykes. Yeah? But you don’t have feelings for Holly. On second thought, let’s skip that one for now.

Chicken.

That thought froze her in place, then her mind provided a counter-argument. Holly might not be like that, but Jae is a carbon copy of Roan. Into safe territory again, Reed let her anger at the director brew, fanning the feeling in an attempt to distract herself from the suddenly sharp memories of adolescence. Memories that had been dredged to the surface by the interviews and the vicious turn her nightmares had taken of late.

The issue wasn’t that Jae was gay. It was being lied to, having been used and betrayed by the one person she had let inside. Now it was just a matter of time before those secrets were used against her.

By a friend.

Reed smiled ferally. Two could play at that game. She had weapons of her own. No. You’re not that person anymore. She slumped forward, one hand coming to rest on her forehead. The voice was right. Not since Riordan had been born. But if Jae dared to try and use her son as leverage, the director would find out just how close to the surface that part of her still lurked.

Oooh, now that’s not too melodramatic, is it? her inner voice taunted, ruining a pretty good pity party. The only problem with that entire line of reasoning is that none of it seems to be your fault.

You can’t have it both ways. Either you’re mad ‘cause she’s gay and didn’t tell you, or you’re mad ‘cause she betrayed you. Except, where’s the betrayal? It’s one big fucking circular argument, Babe. Now deal.

Own your part in it. There was no manipulation because there was nothing to manipulate. She called you on everything.

What about the computer station and the money?

What about them? Did she ask for anything back? Did you ever feel like she wanted more from you than you were giving her?

She kissed me. Orchestrated that whole practice scene.

Wrong!

As far as Reed was concerned, only idiots lied to themselves. The only person in the world it didn’t pay to hide the truth from was yourself. You could lie to everyone, but there was no profit in self-delusion.

All three kisses had been at her instigation - even the studio one. Jae had clearly not wanted to kiss her. And the last one, the last one was all her fault, not Jae’s.

"She should have told me."

Why? Her mind persisted, stubbornly. Would it have been different? You wouldn’t have kissed her if you’d known she was gay? Kissing straight chicks is cool, but not dykes?

Exactly. She answered herself.

Ah. So that’s why you kissed her after you found out she was gay. Makes perfect sense to me.

That was different.

Yeah it was. It was mean and it hurt her. Big difference from how she treated you. That hurt and that was the problem with thinking. Doing was easier, except this really wasn’t a doing sort of problem. But thinking - thinking left her more confused than when she’d started - and feeling like an asshole to boot.

There were too many thoughts rampaging around in her brain, too many threads to untangle in order to discover why she felt so angry and yet still wanted to find a reason for it all disappear. To be able to walk up to Jae and smile, and know that there would be an answering one. For a brief moment on the set today, she’d felt it. Felt their connection and almost let herself forget that she was angry with Jae.

Forget that she had been lied to.

Did she lie? Or did she just not tell you something?

Did it make a difference? Yes. And it became very clear to Reed just exactly what her part in all of this was. She was no closer to figuring out what to do about it, but she knew what she had to own as her fault. What would you have done if she’d told you sooner?

The answer left her feeling cold. Didn’t exactly make a secret of how you felt about ‘people like that’, did you?

Irate, she heaved herself up, wincing as her stiffened muscles protested the sudden change in position. One hand lanced sideways, taking a firm grip on the tabletop, the steady surface bracing her against the possibility that her leg would give way under the strain. The painkillers must have done their job, because it hurt less than she expected, though more than she would have liked. "Can’t have everything, I guess."

She leaned against the tabletop for a minute, eyes drawn to the thick contract and the amended codicils that freed her from bondage to Roan’s film company, then slid to the right as cream coloured paper framed the silver of her spare trailer key. Tentative fingers trailed over the thick paper, brushing its folded edges, but not making any attempt to pick it up.

Touching it, a small smile played about it her lips. It was so absurdly Jae, handmade paper in a day and age of instant messages and digital communication. The fibres under her fingers contrasted with the cold hardness of the tabletop and somehow the key was ringing on the white surface, the note now in her hand.

Reed studied the paper as it opened of its own volition. Bold pen strokes resolved into words, and she read the simple missive.

She read the words over again, digesting the syllables. Not an apology for what Jae was, but for what she hadn’t said. And that had been four days ago. Reed dropped back onto the sofa, the pain in her leg temporarily forgotten as the implication of the note hit home.

Nothing had changed. She’d not even read the note, and yet Jae had continued to treat her professionally, exactly the same as before. Why? That’s what she couldn’t fathom and there was only one person who could provide the answers. Jae.

You owe her that much.

Reed was torn between what she wanted to do, what she knew she should do, and the certain knowledge that doing it would mean facing truths that she’d spent half a lifetime hiding from.

The trailer suddenly seemed too small, its narrow confines no longer comfortable, the space too tiny for her and the memories it held. Brusquely she gathered up her bag, then as an afterthought she tucked the linen paper into one pocket. The voided personal services contract she left on the table. Full dark had fallen, and she slipped out into the moonless night.

Metal gleamed dully under the lot lights, the Saturn still in its slot. Before she could think about it, Reed ducked in towards the bungalow that housed Jae’s office. In her ears the sound of rushing blood drowned out the screaming voice that demanded she leave, her heart rate responding to the fear inspired adrenaline. Locked. The actress dropped her hand away from the door handle - letting it pause briefly in mid-air as she considered pushing the buzzer. Disappointed and relieved, she turned back to her car, pulse still elevated.

The keys nearly fell from nerveless fingers as she struggled into the high footwells and seats of the Rover. Seated, the pain faded somewhat and she began the drive home, windows and sunroof open to let the air rush through. In its wailing, rushing flight around the leather interior, the wind made thinking impossible, and briefly she was tempted to just drive, but the quietly insistent twinge in her thigh every time she depressed the brake ruled out the possibility. Instead she steered the car toward the dark heights of the Hollywood hills and the rented house, not bothering to tuck it into the garage.

"Fuck," Reed swore softly into the night air, letting the expletive take with it a groan of pain as she forced her leg to support her weight during the climb up the concrete stairs that led to the house. It had been relatively easy to manipulate the clutch, brake and gas pedal, but getting out of the Rover had proven to be tougher than anticipated, and now it throbbed as badly as her arm had when she’d broken it falling off the barn roof when she was fourteen.

The memory of that last summer at home cut into the images of the orphanage, replacing them with the burnished gold of fall on their island home, and Reed smiled to herself, recalling her mother’s angry, worried, relieved countenance, as the woman had looked down, hands on hips. "Were you expecting to sprout wings?"

"No, but it would have been nice," had come her quick reply, and her mother had leaned down and picked Reed up, cradling the smaller form, careful not to jostle the arm which was canted unnaturally to one side.

"C’mon then, love. We’d best be getting you to Doctor Kelly’s."

She didn’t remember the trip, having passed out somewhere between the barn and the car, but it was the safest she had felt in her whole life, nestled there against her mother, knowing that Rowena Lewis would find a way to make the hurt go away. "I’ve got you, baby. Mummy’s got you."

The echo through time of words heard recently shunted her mind to another moment, and a wild race down an amusement park ride. To a time when she had experienced the same sense of safety and strength beyond measure, in a place she’d least expected to find it.

And with that thought came a return flood of memory, this time of things less pleasant. That was the pitfall of letting herself remember her mother or her grandmother. Remembering time with them led to remembering time without them - and that led to places and things she didn’t want to remember.

Things she could never forget.

Sleep would not come tonight, of that she was sure, so Reed stumbled out onto the deck, glad to be out of the dark house and the cloying walls. Falling into the lounge chair, she tried in vain to make out the pattern of stars overhead, the brightness that she knew had to be in the sky, swallowed by the false light of the city.

"So much for making the movie, collecting the paycheck and getting out of Dodge." It occurred to her, and not for the first time, that her life would be so much simpler right now if Roan had had the decency to wait before getting himself killed.

Roan. Now there were memories to leave buried. Green eyes flashed through her mind and once again her thoughts came back to Jae. All roads didn’t lead to Rome - tonight they all led to a petite, blonde director.

"So the big purple dinosaur ate the buff coloured horse while the alien invaders cheered wildly."

Jae knew she was having trouble following the thread of the conversation, but couldn’t figure out how the subject had twisted so grotesquely. "What?"

"Ah, so you are awake." Cait reached across and snagged a slice of tamago from the platter, the delicate yellow egg nearly breaking in half under the pressure from the chopsticks.

"Sorry. I was just thinking."

"About? Or is it too obvious for words?"

Grinning wryly, Jae expertly placed a slice of ginger on top of a slice of redfish and dipped it into the wasabi and soya mixture before popping it into her mouth. Finished chewing, she replied. "Actually, I was thinking about Becky."

Cait nodded, mouth full of salmon nigiri, eyes signaling that she was listening.

Warm sake trickled down Jae’s throat and she moved her shoulders offhandedly. "She said something and I can’t stop thinking about it."

"Going to share?"

"She said, ‘For once in your life, Jae, don’t run from what someone makes you feel.’"

"Guess she hasn’t bleached away all her brain cells. She’s a smart woman, Jae."

"Yeah, she is. So tell me why I couldn’t make it work with someone that smart, who obviously cares?"

"You don’t really need me to answer that. You know. But I’ll give you a hint. I wouldn’t date you - you’re a lousy girlfriend."

"I love you too."

Cait laughed. "Maybe that’s her angle. She gets you to chase Reed - who obviously doesn’t want you, thereby getting her revenge. Or, you do get Reed, and Reed has to put up with you and she still gets her revenge."

"Cait, that is so twisted." Jae was laughing so hard that the tuna nigiri balanced in her chopsticks escaped into the soya sauce pond with a small splash.

"Never, ever, underestimate a woman scorned," Cait pronounced solemnly. "Remember Sonya?"

"Ah, but Sonya was your ex - not mine."

"True." Cait looked pensive. "Hmm, how come if you’re such a sucky girlfriend, that none of your exes ever spray painted your car, or pitched a fit on live campus radio?"

"Just lucky, I guess." Another unfortunate prawn was given a ginger overcoat and dunked into wasabi and soya sauce before meeting its fate.

"Jae..." Her friend paused, waiting for Jae to meet her eyes. "Becky’s right, you know. You need to stop running eventually. Just --"

"Just what?"

"Just, I’m not sure that Reed Lewis is the person you should be trying that with. That chick’s got issues you could drive a harvester through. You know - rule three - no sucking chest wounds of emotional need. In fact, that woman violates every rule."

"Not true. Rule number two is still okay. Oh, and rule six." The dating rules were long established and mostly common sense, a legacy from a mutual friend, Gryph. It was rule one that had kept her from going to bed with Cait.

"Alright, I’ll give you that, she’s not a whack job. Barely. I wouldn’t be too sure about rule six."

That was a surprise. Jae kept her eyes lowered and tried to reply casually, "you think she’s so far in the closet she’s paneling?"

"Something like that."

Jae kept her tone light, masking her inner response. "That takes care of rule four then."

As intended, Cait laughed and together they recited Gryphon’s rule number four of dating. "No sexuality experiments. You are not a lab rat."

Inwardly tense, Jae chased a piece of kani around the tray, finding it as hard to catch mounted on rice as live crabs were on the beach. She tried to marshal her thoughts, her mind on a question she’d asked herself on a windswept beach in Miami. It would be wrong. And it would make me like Roan. A small porcelain cup held a serving of sake, and she tossed the clear liquid down her throat. No ulterior motives, no hidden agendas. Just me. It wasn’t something she could explain to Cait though, not without revealing secrets that weren’t hers to tell.

"I’ve kinda been thinking about that too." And she had. Reed Lewis had occupied the majority of her waking thoughts and most of her sleeping ones of late. "Forget what I said about wooing Reed." She kept her real reasons to herself and just shrugged. "Rule number one." No dating people you worked with. Ever.

Jae took another deep swallow of the brazier warmed sake, the warm rice alcohol lighting a matching fire in her belly. She looked up into Cait’s eyes. "Friendship’s as far as it goes."

"Some friend. Look, I have decidedly mixed feelings about her. On one hand, I can see that there is something between you that makes me want to shake you both and scream ‘wake-up!’" Voice intense and low, Cait leaned forward over the table. "And on the other hand, I don’t want my best friend anywhere near a woman who would give her a bloody lip, even as ‘just friends’."

"Cait, it wasn’t like that."

"Wasn’t like what? Then tell me. How’d you bust your lip?"

Jae looked down at the table, shifting her feet under the table, glad of the walls that at least prevented anyone from seeing her face, even if they didn’t do much for masking the words. "She kissed me."

"Kissed you?"

"Yes." The word was so quiet it was nearly a whisper.

Cait went quiet for a minute. "You know she wouldn’t tell me. Just accepted my accusation."

"You didn’t? Please tell me you didn’t pick a fight with her. All you had to do was drop off a contract. Cait!"

"Don’t Cait me. She asked for it."

"It was none of your business."

"I’m your friend Jae. It is my business."

"You’re also the Assistant Director. You were there to do a job, not start a fight."

"Who says I started it?"

Jae leveled her gaze at the other woman, holding her friend’s hazel eyes until Cait lowered them guiltily.

"Okay, so technically I started it."

That made sense to Jae. Nothing in Reed’s behaviour over the last few days gave any indication that the actress was going to start anything or even mention the specifics of what had transpired between them. Of course, she didn’t put it past Reed to escalate things. There had been plenty of evidence of that behaviour.

"Yeah, well trust me, she gives as good as she gets," Cait muttered.

Jae resisted the impulse to grin. That would have been something to see. In this corner, five foot five and weighing in at one hundred and twenty-five pounds, Caitlynn "You can suck my dick" Waters. And in the blue corner, standing five feet, eleven and a half inches, weighing in at one hundred and forty-five pounds, Reed "The Ice Queen" Lewis. "Let’s get re-eeaadyyy to rumble." "You didn’t tell her to suck your dick or anything, did you?" Cait’s colourful expressions of exasperation were legendary.

"It’s cock Jae, and no, I didn’t."

A geisha girl had brought in the next serving of sashimi and sushi, and Jae watched amused as the girl tried not to show her surprise at Caitlynn’s choice of words.

"Good. I think you’re selling her short."

"I think you put too much faith in a mercurial actress who does not have the best reputation for reliability."

This tray had a slightly different selection than the last one, and Jae fished a slice of octopus out of the assortment. Topping it with more ginger and wasabi, she chewed contentedly on the ham-like meat. The alcohol was beginning to take effect and she leaned back against the cushioned riser. "She did an awesome job today. Though I’m beginning to think that there is bad blood between her and Himler." As she remembered the way Reed had handled the actor, a slow smile spread over her face.

Cait snorted. ‘There’s bad blood between Himler and everyone."

"Hmmm...well anyway - she didn’t let it stop her from nailing the fight scene, in spite of having to learn the kicks in front of him."

"Kicks?" Cait asked, a worried expression on her face.

"What?" Worried in turn, she waited for the other woman to continue.

"Holly said something about Reed being hurt worse than she let on, and that someone should check on her later. I was kind of confused and then I guess it just slipped my mind. I didn’t know she meant physically."

"Slipped your mind? Someone tells you that the lead actress might be injured and it slips your mind? Honestly, Cait," Jae snapped angrily, more at herself for not pressing the issue with Reed earlier, than at Cait, then stopped, a look of horror spreading over her mouth and eyes. "I can’t believe I just said that."

The AD looked up, somewhat chagrined. "For what it’s worth, it was a pretty good imitation of your mother."

Jae just grunted, not wanting to appear too concerned. Oh come on, Jae m’grrl, this is the perfect excuse to talk to her. The colourful and carefully arranged food no longer looked appealing as she wondered how badly Reed had hurt herself.

They sat for a bit, and finally Cait spoke. "This could be a long shot, but I’m guessing dinner is over."

"Hmm. Yeah. Sorry. Do you mind?"

"No. All we had left were those flying fish thingies anyhow."

Jae stood, shrugging into her sweater, then reached for her shoes. "Thanks Cait."

"You’re going over there, aren’t you?"

"Where?" she asked, trying to look genuinely curious, not wanting to admit that she did indeed harbour intentions of checking on Reed.

"Uh huh, that’s what I thought. She is an adult, you know - perfectly capable of seeking medical attention all by her lonesome."

"Maybe," Jae allowed. "But it’s a work related injury and that makes it my responsibility. Oh good one. "Can you drop me at the studio so I can get my car?"

"No. We’ve both had enough to drink that it’s cabs, not cars."

Jae nodded acceptance, then smiled inside. Caitlynn Crusade number two - drunk driving. They had, over dinner, managed to touch on two of Cait’s personal crusades. Domestic violence and drunk drivers. "Alright, how about we share a cab and I drop you on the way?" They had to go by Studio City to get to the Hollywood Hills from where they were.

It wasn’t until after they had dropped Cait off that Jae realized Reed might not even be home. Now what? If she called, then Reed would have a chance to hide. Heh - if she can do that then you’ll know her leg is fine. And if she just showed up, then Reed could still be at the studio - especially if she were too hurt to drive home.

She ran out of thinking time as the car rounded a bend, the sweep of headlights revealed that the Range Rover was parked in the drive. She’s home.
 
  The concrete steps were cool under her thighs as Jae sat silently contemplating what to do next. Knock or call? How about option number three - just go home? Calling sort of negated the point of just showing up. Not that she’d been thinking ahead when she decided to come. I could have called from anywhere. Except phoning left Reed an out. "Too bad I don’t have an out." She considered whether she really wanted to risk being rejected, her peace overture ignored.

Around her, Jae could hear an assortment of people, animals and things. The seemingly disparate noises blended in a concert of life, and she lost herself momentarily, drinking in the sounds. A car backfired, a dog barked counterpoint and a splash of water from a nearby pool punctuated the natural verse.

Her cell phone felt heavy in her hand, the buttons illuminated, waiting to be pressed. The smooth wooden door beckoned invitingly, the soft glow of the street lamp glinting from the ornate knocker. Without realizing she had chosen, Jae felt the cell phone come to life in her hands. Three rings and then it was picked up.

"Lewis."

Mouth gone dry, Jae nearly hung up.

"Rio?" There was worry in the actress’ voice and it galvanized Jae into speaking.

"It’s me."

The silence spun out until it seemed it had gone on forever. Even the background noises disappeared in it, the whole world reduced to faint breathing sounds at either end of a cell phone connection.

She couldn’t make the actress talk to her, so Jae stayed quiet, letting Reed decide whether or not to continue with the call.

"Your nephew called."

The sudden breaking of the silence startled her, and it took a second before she registered what Reed had said. "He did?" Her wits about her now, Jae found it didn’t surprise her that Reed had begun the conversation with a total non sequitur. That had pretty much been the pattern. They’d argue or have a misunderstanding, and they’d get around it through the back door, not really talking about what had happened or how it felt.

"Yes. He wanted to know if he could still play computer games with Rio."

Reed didn’t elaborate any further, and she considered how to prompt the actress. The fact that they were talking about Rio at all had to be a good sign. The actress’ tone of voice was less cold than it had been on the rare occasions they had spoken over the last few days, and she hoped that Reed hadn’t taken her anger out on the boys. "What’d you tell him?"

"I told him he could. I also told him that you’d buy him the ice cream I owe him."

"Thanks."

"I didn’t do it for you."

Silence fell again, and Jae recognized that this time she had to break it. The door felt slightly warmer to the touch than the stairs, and she leaned back against its smooth surface, tucking one leg under her chin. There was so much she wanted to say, needed to say, but over the phone didn’t seem like the right way to do it. She needed to see Reed’s eyes, needed to be able to gauge the other woman’s reactions. You came for a reason - use it. She discarded a million ways to ask if Reed was okay, afraid that the question would be misinterpreted. She was guessing, but from Reed’s reaction earlier, what Holly had said to Cait and her own personal experience, she thought it likely that the actress had pulled or at least stretched her groin.

Aware that the silence had stretched on for too long, Jae tried to figure out what to say. Something, anything.

"You call for a reason?" Reed spoke again.

"Actually, yes. I called to check up on the injury."

"I see."

Was that disappointment in Reed’s voice? Or wishful thinking? Down the street a car honked, brakes squealing on the pavement as a car swerved to avoid what looked to be a cat.

"Where are you?" Reed demanded.

"Your front steps."

"My front steps?" came the disbelieving answer. "You called me from my front steps?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"You’re still my responsibility." Then she took a deep breath. "And because I was worried about you."

The line went silent again.

"Can I come in?"

"Is the door locked?"

Jae stood up and tried the handle. Locked. "Yes."

"Then no, you can’t come in."

"Okay." Jae sat back down. That’s weird. She doesn’t sound like she’s being mean or trying to make some Lucy pulling the football out from under Charlie Brown ‘psych’ type joke. She settled back against the door, once more drawing a leg up, then letting it drop suddenly as she sat up, clues snapping into place. "Reed, why can’t you come unlock the door?"

More silence. Then a long exhalation. "Because I can’t stand up."

"Oh boy. Is there a spare key out here anywhere?"

"No."

"Any windows open?"

"No."

"This would be a bad time to yell at you for not saying something to someone sooner, wouldn’t it?"

"Yes."

"Just checking. Well, you have two choices. Call your landlord, or we let the ambulance guys chop it down."

"No door number three?"

"No." An owl hooted in the receiver, and then Jae heard it again, this time from overhead. "Where are you?"

"On the back deck."

"Say hello to door number three."

"Are you nuts? The deck is almost 20 feet off the ground."

"Relax. We climbed worse in college. The guys at Phi Delta Theta never knew what hit them." She was already halfway around, when the ground started to slope rapidly away from the house. Okay, so maybe this isn’t such a bright idea.

"You were in a sorority?"

"Not exactly." No way was she going to explain to Reed what she and the women’s soccer team had been doing that night. Unh-unh. "I have to hang-up now. I need both hands for this." And my head examined. She laughed softly to herself, lines from a Dire Straits tune reminding her of Cait’s Romeo and Juliet remark.

"Jae, don’t. Just call the ambulance; let them chop the door down. Fuck the publicity."

Jae pretended not to have heard that last sentence, tucking the cell into one pocket. "Here goes nothing." With that she reached up and grabbed one side of the window frame in her left hand. Using the flexibility from years of kick-boxing, she perched one foot on the sill, and leveraged her body up until she could plant the other foot on the sill, using it as a ledge.
 
 

"Jae!" Reed snapped the cell shut in alarm. "Of all the crazy fucking stupid tom fool things to do." She thought she could hear scraping sounds from below. She’s really climbing up my balcony.

Amazing enough that the director had shown up on her doorstep. But now the woman was climbing to her rescue like some knight-errant in the fantasy stories Rio liked to read. Five days ago, she had never wanted to see Jae again. Now Reed didn’t want anything more than to see her blonde head pop impishly over the balcony rails.

Clamping her jaw shut against the wave of nausea that accompanied the movement, Reed twisted her body so that she could see the balustrade.

What are you going to do when she gets here?

"Damn." She hadn’t thought of that.

People don’t climb two stories for kicks.

It was quiet down below. Only the regular sounds of a neighborhood getting ready to call it a night filled the air. "Jae...?" she called hesitantly.

"Yeah?" It was more of a grunt than a word.

"Just checking."

"To see if I’m alive or dead?" There was a pause. "Sorry. That was uncalled for." The words were hard to hear, the breeze carrying them away.

Maybe I could just pretend not to have heard that pointed question. Except it was, in a way, a fair comment. "Something like that."

"Hunh." This time the noise was more distinct, as though Jae were closer. There was another soft grunt along with a cluster of bumps, then silence.

The deck shook slightly and Reed could hear the rattle of wood vibrating. Her heart was pounding as she watched for the first signs that Jae had made it to the top. She could picture that wall of the house, having spent quite a few evenings overlooking the hillside that fell away in a steep slope, lost deep in thought. As for what Jae was using for handholds - that she didn’t want to contemplate at all.

She also didn’t want to think about why Jae was slowly picking her way up the side of the house. She cares.

"Hey." Jae lifted herself over the rail and dropped lightly to the cedar deck.

"You’re crazy."

"Maybe." The director didn’t look to even be breathing hard, a faint glow and a light sheen of perspiration on her brow the only signs that she had been exerting herself at all.

Reed looked away from the green eyes that met hers so steadily, focusing instead on the blanket bunched at the end of the chaise lounge. Oh fuck.

So, you have the guts to apologize? Or the class? Reed cleared her throat nervously. "I read your note. Thanks." That is not an apology.

I’m getting there. Slowly she turned back to face Jae, and lifted her eyes till they met the director’s. "What I did. That was wrong. I’m sorry." As an apology that sucked.

Jae nodded. "I should have told you sooner. I’d say we have lots to talk about, but right now I’m worried about you. Where’s it hurt?"

Reed gratefully accepted the change in topic, relieved that there seemed to be room left in their relationship to maneuver around the topic for now. "Here." She indicated the inside of her upper right thigh.

"That’s a good sign."

"It is?"

"Means it’s not your knee. And you were able to walk on it earlier, so I’m guessing you haven’t torn or ruptured anything. A pull or a strain is most likely. Can I...?" Jae had knelt down next to the chair, and was indicating her leg.

Reed swallowed. "I’d...I’d rather you didn’t."

"You know something, Reed? Not once in my entire life have I ever forced myself on a woman." The words had an angry, hurt edge to them. Jae looked like there was more that she wanted to say, but instead she closed her mouth then shook her head.

"I ..." Reed struggled to find something to say.

"Let’s just drop it, okay?"

"Whatever."

"Alright. Can I at least get you into the house?"

"Okay." Agreeing, she was completely unprepared for what came next. Jae simply leaned over and slid one arm under her knees, and one under her back, then stood, lifting her smoothly from the chair. The motion jarred her leg and she winced.

"You alright?" They were inside the house now, and Jae navigated the small space between the balcony door and the living room.

"I could be asking you the same question." Reed kept her tone light, mind spinning. You gotta ask yourself some pretty serious questions. She’d thrown one arm around the director’s neck and she could fell the smaller woman’s heartbeat against her rib cage. How can one woman make me feel so utterly terrified and completely safe at the same time?

"I eat my vegetables."

"And bench press what? Two fifty?" She settled gingerly onto the couch, very aware of the places along her body where Jae had been holding her.

Jae laughed, perched on the edge of the sofa. "Not quite. You have a hot water bottle here?"

"I don’t think so. Might be something in the bathroom."

"Be right back."

Reed watched Jae leave the room. Alone for a minute, she tried to make sense of the jumbled tangle of reactions the director’s presence inspired. One thing was certain; this wasn’t going anything like she thought a meeting between the two of them would. On one hand there was a certain ease to it - and on the other a deep awareness that some topics were off limits, as were certain other behaviors they had taken for granted with each other. And that, she knew, was her fault. A week ago if Jae had clambered casually over the balcony, she would have said something like ‘You do this for all the ladies?’. She most certainly would have let Jae examine the injury.

The microwave bleeped loudly, then Jae reappeared in the room, a towel-wrapped object in each hand. "No hot water bottle - but this is even better. Rice."

"Rice?"

"Yep. I have a rice bag I use on my neck. Works really well - holds an even heat longer. Here, tuck this under your leg, just behind where it meets your...the top." She handed one towel over. "Wait ten minutes then switch to this."

Reed took the second bundle, noting it was cool to the touch. "Ice?"

"Close. The Mr. Freezies you had in your freezer."

"Thanks."

Jae smiled the first real smile Reed had seen since the director arrived. "You’re welcome."

The heat was beginning to seep through her clothes and into the sore muscles, bringing relief. "S’is nice."

"Good." Jae moved to the end of the long leather couch, leaning back against the cushioned arm, keeping their bodies separate.

To Reed, the space between had the same quality of electric anticipation that the air in Maine did before a summer storm. And when the storm finally broke, either things would be okay between them again, or over. Right now she wanted to pretend, at least for a while, that they were friends, so she refrained from saying anything at all, afraid of upsetting the delicate balance that hung between them.

"You want to see a doctor now or in the morning?" Jae asked quietly.

"No option three?"

"No. But look on the bright side - you get tomorrow off."

"Tomorrow then."

"Okay. You should switch packs now. But before you apply the cold, work the muscle gently like this to keep it from stiffening up too badly." The director demonstrated on her own thigh.

Awkwardly, she tried to reach the same muscle set that Jae’s flexibility and lack of pain allowed her to reach. "Fuck. That hurts." She gave up, and placed the cold pack under her leg.

"I bet it does. I pulled my groin once at a kick-boxing tournament in college. Don’t ever let a guy tell you they have a monopoly on groin injuries and pain." Jae got up off the couch, picked up the rice pack and headed for the kitchen.

"Did you win?"

"No. Bounced on my butt first round," Jae answered from the kitchen, her voice echoing from the other room.

Reed tried to picture that. After tonight she was having a tough time imagining anyone who could beat Jae. From behind, soft footsteps indicated that the slight blonde was returning, the aroma of bergamot accompanying her. "You’re spoiling me." The quip was out before she could call it back.

Jae didn’t reply straightaway, just handed her a mug of the hot earl gray tea and the reheated rice pack. "Well, I have to tell you, there aren’t many people I’d willingly scale a twenty foot wall for." The director’s eyes sparkled with mirth as she drawled the words.

Hearing them, Reed knew that while a lot of things had changed between them, a lot had stayed intact. Maybe even enough that they could be friends again. "So why?"

"Why did I scale the wall or why did I come here?"

"Either."

Jae looked pensive. "As a director you are my responsibility. That didn’t change just because we had a difference of opinion. You got hurt at work, doing something that I should probably have gotten a stuntie to do after I realized you didn’t know how."

It was something to think about, and something that marked Jae as different from Roan. Not speaking, she nodded to show Jae she was listening.

"As for the other. If you really want to know, ask me again when we have more time to talk." One hand ran nervously through her hair as Jae spoke.

"I will." With that Reed knew she was agreeing to discuss what had happened between them.

"Listen, I need to get going." Jae dug her cell out of her jacket pocket. "You have a phone book?"

"Why?" she asked, curious as to whom Jae would be calling at this hour.

"I need to call a cab. You need to change to the heat pack now."

It only took a split second, but Reed made a decision. She hadn’t come up with the words yet, or even have a concrete idea about what she wanted to say. There were a lot of issues between them and friendship. But she could make a concrete gesture, and actions spoke louder than words - or so her mother had always said. "Take my car. It’s not like I need it."

"Sure?"

"Yeah. I can get it when I’m done with the doctor."

"How about I send a wrangler around eleven to pick you up and take you over to the hospital? Then depending on the verdict, you can either pick it up or I can drop it off later."

"Sounds like a plan." Her eyes were beginning to feel heavy, the heat from the rice pack and the tea doing their job. "Keys are on the hook by the front door."

Jae nodded and made her way across the living room to the front hallway. "Good night Reed."

"Night Jae."

The door closed softly behind the director, once more leaving Reed alone with her thoughts. Is she being straight with me? She smiled. There was a whole new set of words to use with Jae now and that wasn’t one of them.

You’re playing with fire.

I know.

On the other side of the room the phone rang, and Reed forced herself off the couch, careful not to put too much weight on her leg. "Wonder what she forgot?"

Jae nearly collapsed against the side of the Range Rover. In the space of ninety minutes a relationship she had thought beyond repair had proven to have some life left in it. How much was uncertain. But the professional end of things was at least working again.

Any more than that was a bonus.

Every muscle in her body ached, and she sank into the soft leather interior gratefully. I can’t believe I did that. Ah, but ‘twas a grand gesture, m’grrl, and ‘twas maybe enough to thaw the ice a wee bit, no? She could all but see the twinkle in her grandfather’s eye. It was the sort of thing she imagined him having done for her grandmother, and it made her smile.

The drive home passed in a blur, and she struggled up the stairs, falling almost at once into a blessedly dreamless sleep.

The bed was moving, and for an instant Jae thought there was an earthquake, sitting up quickly only to find Antonia standing next to the bed. "Your alarm, it has been ringing for the last fifteen minutes. I only came up to turn it off, thinking you were not at home."

Jae smiled sleepily at her housekeeper. "S’okay. Thanks for waking me up." A familiar aroma drifted through the air. "Mmm, you make coffee?"

"Don’t I always? I’ll pour some for you while you get ready for work." The older woman spoke over one shoulder as she descended the stairs.

"Thanks. Oh, and when you do the shopping - just a couple of days worth - we leave for Miami and Michigan on Saturday."

A half-hour later she was maneuvering the Rover through traffic, having taken a little while to adjust to the difference in vehicle height. The windows made it seem like she was driving a portable fishbowl, and she was glad for the light tint that kept the morning sun at bay.

She slid the car into Reed’s slot, hopped out and jauntily made her way into her office. The shooting schedule would need some minor tinkering to accommodate the actress’ injury - how much tinkering they’d know later, when the doctor made a prognosis. "Morning." The gargoyle smiled back at her, toothy grin unchanged, the epitome of equanimity.

"You’re in a good mood this morning." Cait was leaning against the office door.

"Yep. We’re on time, on budget and everyone’s getting along. What’s not to be happy about?"

"You talked to her then?"

"Yes."

"She apologize for being such a bitch?"

"Not exactly. But I think she understands that just because we had a personal falling out doesn’t mean that I am going to take it out on her at work." In fact, it seemed as though Reed still had major issues with the gay thing, but she didn’t want to share that with Cait. "I gave her the day off. She needs to get the leg checked just in case." Leave out the Romeo act while I’m censoring the evening. I’m not hearing about that for the rest of the year. She grabbed her clipboard and sketchbook from the desk.

"I’ll adjust the shooting schedule for today, and we’ll play by ear then."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

"Can you get a wrangler to pick her up at eleven? Here are her car keys."

"Done. Bill wants to see you in editing bay four."

"Alright, I’ll drop by there now." She wondered what the editor wanted. Last she had checked he was working on the preliminary edits of one of the boardroom scenes, nothing earth shaking.

But all in all it was shaping up to be what passed for a normal day, and later hopefully she and Reed would get a chance to talk about the real issues that were lying between them. "You think she likes Japanese?"

As usual the gargoyle pleaded a silent fifth, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

She threw herself into the routine, fully concentrating on her job. It was coming together, and it looked like the worst was behind them. Two weeks of principal photography would see them move into post production work, and then the fun would really start. Miles and miles of footage would be condensed into a few thousand feet.

Feet up, she was going over the storyboards for the location shoot when Cait knocked on the door. "Hey. I was ready to take a break. What’s up?"

"I sent the wrangler."

The elation Jae had been feeling all morning slowly drained away as she guessed where this was going. "And?"

"You were wrong. She’s gone."

Jae didn’t wait to hear more. She raced outside and got in the Saturn, making the twenty-minute drive in less than ten minutes. The door was unlocked, just as she’d left it last night, and she walked into the house.

The clothes Reed had been wearing lay crumpled on the floor, empty tea cup still on the end table. On the desk, the handmade picture frame still held its photo. Jae moved into the bedroom. Some clothes were still in the closet, some haphazardly strewn across the bed. The bathroom told the same story, various cosmetics still rested along the vanity shelf, but the red handled toothbrush that had hung there last night was gone.

Back in the living room, Jae picked the photo up, running her finger tips across the image. Gone. But why now? Sunday...that I could understand. But now? She felt hollow, the elation from the day sucked away by the realization that maybe her faith in Reed had been misplaced. That this was payback.

For an instant she wondered if Reed had been kidnapped, but couldn’t imagine anyone getting the actress to go someplace she didn’t want to without leaving a trail of blood and destruction in their wake.

Slowly she wandered through the house again, eyes taking in details, looking for some clue as to where Reed had gone. In the hallway, she found the toothbrush sitting next to the phonebook, which was open to the taxi section of the yellow pages. Jae stopped, puzzled. "Well I give. I have no idea where your mother’s gone."

Unless.

Jae locked the door behind her and headed back to the car, hoping that just this once she was wrong.

… THIRTY TWO…

"You’re overreacting." Jae looked at herself in the rearview mirror. "She’s got the day off. What she does with it is up to her." She ignored the jumbled mess at Reed’s house as well as the fact that Reed wasn’t answering her cell.

Reed had done nothing to merit the assumption that she had taken off, and Jae felt slightly guilty that she, of all people, had assumed the worst without any proof. It didn’t stop her from mentally replaying last night’s conversation - searching for something that might have set Reed off. Instead she was left with the opposite feeling. The only real problem had been Reed not wanting her to look at the injury, and while it had angered her at the time, Jae could understand Reed’s reluctance to have someone she had just discovered out was gay take an up close look at her groin. Everything else had left her feeling like there was hope for them to sort things out.

The vague unease that had made her stomach clench earlier was back, and Jae tried not to think of the other reason Reed might have bolted suddenly.

Traffic was light and she made good time back to the studio, arriving with time to spare before filming began. One part of her mind was already running through the footage that she planned to shoot. The need to get on with her job forced her worry about Reed into the background.

Confidently, she moved over the set, checking the set-up and angles, making last minute alterations while she waited for Gwen and Himler to finish in wardrobe. Tomorrow they would be joined once again by Jared Sykes, who as Kerry’s father, Senator Stuart, would film his scenes with Himler and Gwen, then move on to finish the ones with Reed and Gwen.

What will you do if she has split? Jae didn’t want to think about that - without Reed to finish the picture, it was game over, man. They had filmed too much to start again and stay in budget, and not quite enough to cobble it together without her.

"Any luck?" Cait asked, entering the set, a stack of shot reports neatly bundled in one hand.

Feigning a total lack of concern, Jae casually leaned against a foley cart. "Just a change in timings."

"Oh." The AD both looked and sounded skeptical, and for a second Jae thought that Cait was going to call her on the bald-faced lie.

"Good." C’mon, get your head back where it belongs. Jae trailed Caitlynn across the set to where the storyboard was posted, mentally retracking in preparation for Gwen’s scenes with Rafe Himler.

They hadn’t gotten quite the chemistry between them she had been looking for - but antagonism was there in spades, and that was turning out to work almost as well. Better in some ways, really. Removing any hint of sexual chemistry between Kerry and Kyle’s characters increased what Holly referred to as the ‘slime factor’, while magnifying the chemistry that Reed and Gwen were demonstrating as Dar and Kerry. Reed. Not now, concentrate. Just put her out of your mind and focus. One hand rubbed at a temple, willing the beginnings of a headache to fade into the background - at least until she got through the next few hours.

"Nothing. How can someone not have an address?" Jae threw down her pencil in disgust. In two hours she hadn’t been able to find out anything about Reed that she didn’t already know. In fact, she had become painfully aware just how many personal details Reed had shared with her that weren’t written down or otherwise common knowledge. And you shared what?

The worst part was the uncertainty. Was Reed even gone? She did, after all, have the day off, and there was no rule that said the actress had to see the doctor exactly when told to. Except her laptop is gone. The way rumours flew around a movie set, Jae knew she had to be careful about the kinds of inquiries she made. Which also, for now, precluded calling Reed’s agent.

The house lease in the Hills was made out to Reed Lewis c/o Blackmon Pictures, and even the Rover wasn’t in her name - just Blackmon’s - as was the phone. It made sense though. The last person Reed would have wanted to know where she really lived was Roan, and until recently Roan was Blackmon Pictures.

A deep rap sounded at the door and she swept the evidence of her search into the top drawer of her desk. "Come in."

As it swung inwards, the door revealed the tall form of the executive producer. Rod Chambers strolled easily into the room, suit neatly pressed, and settled himself into one of the canvas chairs that flanked her desk. "Got a minute?" It wasn’t a question - more of a command request.

Jae leaned back in her own chair. "Sure. What can I do for you?"

"You can explain where Ms. Lewis is. The crew seems to think that she walked off the set yesterday."

"Barely." She paused and gave a light laugh. "Seriously, Reed pulled her groin doing a scene yesterday. I saw her last night and had to give her a couple of days off. No big deal. Cait rearranged a couple of scenes and cleared her schedule." The best option seemed to be a blend of the truth and wishful thinking.

Dark eyes studied her own and Jae had to fight to hold his gaze. Lying was not her strong suit, and she hated to do it. If you’ve bailed on me for anything less than Rio, I am going to kill you.

"There’s also a rumour that the two of you have had some kind of lover’s quarrel."

This time she could tell the complete truth. "Over the weekend she found out I was gay. But as you’ve seen from the rushes over the last few days that hasn’t had much impact on her performance."

He nodded. "Given her reputation and past behaviour, I had to ask."

There was nothing she could say to that. She couldn’t very well tell him the truth about why Reed had walked off the set of ‘Torqued’ years ago, and why if the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach was right, the actress may have done it again. "We may run into a scheduling problem though."

"On time, Cavanaugh. We discussed that."

She took a deep breath. You so owe me, Reed. "Well if Ms. Lewis’ groin needs more than a couple of days to heal, it will set us back two weeks minimum. Now I can recover most of that from post-production, and I have some padding in the film budget from cutting out the fancier stuff in the original script. The special effects for the tropical storm are still under budget - we got some good live footage while we were down there." She didn’t mention that they had yet to locate the Miami tape.

"What exactly are you asking me?"

"For room to maneuver under the schedule. It would be irresponsible of me not to have a back-up plan in place in the event that Reed can’t work for a bit. We can get a lot of tape with her in a chair - but most of the intense stuff is over the next couple of weeks. It is a work related injury - we’re covered for that."

Chamber’s appeared to consider the request. The production bond would cover any worker’s compensation related issues. "No extra money. On budget. How you accomplish that is up to you."

"Thank-you." It was enough of a concession. The time had worried her more than the money, and Chambers had just given her the time.

Chambers grunted in acknowledgement and stood up. "So far I’ve liked what I’ve seen. You’ve gotten material out of Lewis that I didn’t think was possible. Hell, I understand you even got Himler to behave - for him. With that he left, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Elated, Jae dropped back into her chair. Okay...what I need here is a plan. There were two scenarios and both involved Reed having left - only the why was different. And the solution to both was exactly the same. Find Riordan and she’d find Reed.

The telephone rang and her hand leapt across the distance. "Cavanaugh."

"Jaqueline?"

"Hello Mother. I can’t really talk right now. I’m expecting a call."

"You’ve been avoiding my calls all week."

"No Mother, I haven’t - I’ve just been extremely busy. I’ll have more time soon, okay?" Jae decided that a conciliatory tone would get her out of this conversation faster than going the confrontational route.

She continued to listen with half an ear, making a list of the things she would need to cover off in order to make sure that no one realized that Reed was gone. It would be so much easier if Reed would just call, but Jae doubted the mercurial actress would ask for help if she needed it. Heck, it would be much easier if Reed weren’t so secretive. I have no idea how I’m going to pull this off and still keep your secret. A word caught her attention. "What was that about dinner?"

An exasperated sigh nearly made her chuckle. "Honestly, Jacqueline. I said your father and I would love to see you for dinner when we drive down to see Danielle next week."

"That sounds nice, but I leave for the location shoots Saturday - first Miami, then Michigan. Look I really do have to go. Love to you and Daddy."

"We love you too Jacqueline."

Jae looked at the phone in shock. An ‘I love you’ and no lectures? "Night." Without replacing the receiver, she dialed a familiar number. On the third ring a machine picked up, and she waited for the beep. "Hey. It’s me. I need a really big favour. You can call me anytime tonight."

She hung up the phone and ticked off a mark on her paper. With any luck, she had just found the breathing room she needed. Now all she needed was to find Rio. How hard could it be to find a Riordan Lewis in the state of Maine?

… … …

Reed stared out the window, waiting for the plane to taxi out of the gate and onto the runway. The faster they could get in the air - the faster she could check on Rio. The flight was half empty, and she had a row of three seats to herself. Gingerly she stretched her leg out, aware of the pain for the first time since the phone call two hours earlier.

It had been a possibility. They had all known that.

And now it was reality. A waking nightmare a thousand times scarier than the worst ones that gripped her nights, stealing sleep. This nightmare had the power to steal her soul.

Dark curls framing a round, far too pale, face. The shallow rise and fall of a tiny chest as a respirator forced air into lungs unable to cope on their own. A white bandage over the skin under which his heart lay, hid the red wound twice the size of his delicate hands. Now there would be a fresh bandage over the long healed scar. Reed closed her eyes to block out the images only to find they followed her into the darkness, made sharper by her unwillingness to face them.

Opening her eyes, she tried to focus on how lucky they had been. By some chance twist of fate, Geoff had taken Rio with him to a computer trade show, putting them minutes instead of hours from a hospital well enough equipped to handle the sudden explosion of a tiny piece of rubber, as the balloon valve finally ruptured. An ambulance crew had been on site at the hotel and somehow they had kept Rio alive long enough for the doctors to whisk him into surgery.

She blinked away a tear. Right now he was in an operating theatre, hanging on to life with everything his determined soul had. While they waited. The seatbelt and no-smoking signs were still on - and that meant no airphone, no email. Just an agonizing wait. As soon as she closed her eyes she could hear the phone ringing again, waking her from a light half doze and catapulting her into instant wakefulness.

Reed let them echo in her mind now, concentrating with all her might on the fact that he was alive. And as long as he was alive they had a chance.

The seatbelt sign went off, and she snatched the airphone from its cradle, her credit card already in hand. Several rounds of electronic beeps filled her ear before the connection was made and the phone rang.

"How is he?"

"Still in the operating room. Dr. Zerafa just went in."

That news brought a small measure of relief. She trusted the heart specialist and knew he would do everything possible to save Rio. And if he can’t? Reed thrust the doubt down, unable to emotionally play ‘what if’ games. "I should be there by midnight."

"They let you go?"

"No."

"Guess you can kiss the Oscar good-bye." The joke was hollow and flat, an unsuccessful attempt at raising both their spirits.

"Fuck the Oscar."

"I know." Heidi paused, and she heard the muted sounds of Geoff’s voice. "Geoff will meet you at the airport. What airline are you coming in on?"

"I don’t know. Let me check." When she’d left the house she hadn’t even had a ticket and there were no travel agents open at two a.m. On the way to the airport, she’d checked schedules and gotten flights, nearly missing the next flight out of LAX. Reed flipped open the ticket packet and tried to sort out the jumble of timings. In order to get to Maine, she had purchased a ticket on a four a.m. flight to England, but would get off the plane in Chicago. At O’Hare, she needed to transfer to another airline, which would take her to New York, Boston and then on to Bangor. Circuitous, but it was the fastest route with available seats that she could find, given both the short notice and the relative isolation of her destination. "American Airlines, flight 358, arriving eleven p.m. local time."

"Geoff’ll be there to pick you up."

"I’ll call again in an hour."

"He’ll make it."

Reed accepted the reassurance Heidi offered. "I know. By the time I get there, he’ll probably be trying to use the IV stand as a skateboard again."

"Or the bedpans as drums." Heidi’s voice cracked.

"How you holding up?"

"The truth? I’m scared. He looked so small and pale on the gurney when they wheeled him out of ER." Her friend was crying, and she could hear Geoff trying to calm the sobs that suddenly came through the line. A couple of long minutes passed, and Reed let her own silent tears fall, then Heidi spoke again. "I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be falling apart on you like this."

"You love him too."

"Hold on." The phone was muffled, voices coming through faintly.

Reed tensed and leaned forward, pulling her leg awkwardly, and she groaned.

"You okay?" Geoff asked.

"Fine. Just moved the wrong way. What’s going on?" Her imagination was already supplying scenario after scenario, and she fought to keep the sudden fear from escalating.

"Zerafa just motioned Heidi over. He doesn’t look panicked and Heidi looks relieved. Here she comes."

"Reed?"

"Yes." She gripped the armrest and listened.

"They’ve got the bleeding under control and replaced the balloon valve with a new one."

"What’s wrong?" She picked up on the tangible fear in Heidi’s tone.

"They had to stop before they could finish constructing the new valve...he went into full arrest...it took them almost five minutes to revive him."

All the noise around Reed faded out of awareness. Even Heidi’s voice blended into the nonsensical background noise as the full implication hit home. Rio had been without blood and oxygen to his brain twice - Zerafa didn’t want to risk further surgery, either because he wasn’t sure there was anything to risk it for, or he didn’t want to risk a third deprivation - one Rio might not recover from. Instinct took over and she let another part of who she was surface, calling on assimilated pieces of people who didn’t exist. "What’s his condition listed as?"

Heidi responded to the medical terminology, her professional training surfacing. "They have him listed as critical. He’s on a respirator, and when he leaves recovery they are going to send him to the main CICU until they have a bed in pediatric ICU. We should know more in a couple of hours."

A mental image of Rio hooked to a machine superimposed itself on the memory of an infant in an incubator, hooked to a jumble of wires and machines bigger than he was, and Reed nearly lost her hard-won control. "I’ll call back then. He’ll be fine." She tried to give Heidi the reassurance that she knew she herself needed so desperately. He’ll be fine. He has to be.

"American, 358 right?"

"Right. Heidi...?"

"What?

"If you can - if you get a chance - kiss him for me and tell him, tell him, Mummy loves him and he better not forget it."

"I will."

"Thanks," she whispered, then disconnected the phone.

To her left the dark night sky was broken only by the intermittent flash of the light on the long wing, no stars or moon to wish on.

Closing her eyes she tried to sleep, aware that every ounce of energy she had would be needed over the next ten hours.

… … …

"This is the final boarding call for American Airlines flight 358 departing to Le Guardia, Boston, terminating in Bangor. Once again, this is the final boarding call for all passengers on American Airlines flight 358. All passengers should now be on board."

Reed ignored the shooting pain in her leg as she struggled to get to the gate. American Airlines was housed in terminal three, and her flight had arrived at terminal two, not leaving much time to switch planes.  It had been the fastest route though. She spotted the sign for concourse H, and uniformed attendants answering questions. "My flight is in final boarding." The words were out before she halted her motion.

The attendant took one look at her limping, tired body and radioed for a courtesy car. "It’s alright, ma’am. We’ll get you on your flight." He took her ticket and examined it. "You don’t have a boarding pass?"

"No," Reed answered. The need to switch airlines in Chicago had made it impossible for her to be ticketed through to Bangor from LAX

He nodded then spoke into the radio. "I have a passenger Lewis, flight 358."

A squawk and a burst of static accompanied the response. "Door’s still open. Let me check for a seat."

She resisted the impulse to say anything, and just sat down on the motorized cart. The driver pulled away smoothly, headed for the gate, while the other attendant continued to work on getting her a seat. They arrived at the gate in moments, the car capable of moving much more quickly than she could.

"Ms. Lewis, all passengers who do not check in - "

"I couldn’t check in - I was in the air. Now, I need to be on that flight." They had been delayed several hours in Las Vegas due to severe storms, and had been nearly stranded by the weather. It had made what should have been an easy connection to her four o’clock flight virtually impossible.

"I’m sorry but that flight is full."

"You don’t understand...."

"Hold on." Another burst of static and the gate agent plugged one ear with her finger. "Do you have any luggage?"

"No."

"We can’t get you on this plane, but we can get you a seat on flight 1244 to Boston, then on to Bangor, arriving ten p.m."

Reed closed her mouth. That was an hour earlier than her original flight had been scheduled to land. Gratefully, she nodded at the other woman. "Thank-you."

"You’re welcome. Let’s just get a boarding pass for you, and then Henry will take you to the gate. It’s just down the hall a little ways." A genuine smile framed the young woman’s lips.

Overhead the final boarding call was given for her new flight, and Reed looked anxiously toward the counter.

"Don’t worry. They know you are coming. Seat 14b, Gate 12."

The ticket stubs and boarding passes were handed back, and suddenly they were on their way. Taking advantage of the first available minute she had had to call since the storms had set in, Reed pulled out her cell and dialed Heidi again.

"Hello," Geoff whispered, unexpectedly answering the phone.

"It’s me."

"Reed. Thank God. Where are you?"

"Just leaving O’Hare. We hit a major storm front. How’s Rio?"

"Still hasn’t regained consciousness, but last time Heidi asked, his vitals were good."

The electric car came to a halt at the gate and Reed got off, handing the boarding pass to the gate attendant. "Where’s Heidi?"

"Right here. She fell asleep."

"I’m sorry, Geoff."

"Don’t be. We knew the score when we agreed to help. I wouldn’t have missed any of it."

It lessened her guilt a fraction, the part of her that felt she should be there instead of Heidi and Geoff unwilling to let her off the hook. There weren’t any words she could find, so instead she changed the subject, aware that she had only moments left before being asked to turn off the phone. "I had a flight change, American flight 1244, arrives 10:00 p.m." Three and a half hours was all that separated her from her son, but to Reed it felt like forever.

"I’ll be there."

"Thanks. I better go. They are getting ready to shut the doors."

"See you soon." He paused. "We’re here for him and for you."

"I know. Bye." They were there for Riordan - that she could believe - and as far as she was his mother, for her too - but only on that level. And even that was awkward at times, especially when she first returned from a trip, and Heidi and Geoff had to share him again.

Reed shut the cell phone off, severing the connection. They were there because she had something they wanted and needed, and the arrangement worked for all four of them. But no one had been there for her in a long time.

Wrong. The word came with an image of Jae’s tousled head popping over the balcony. She was.

Reed stared across the aisle, and into the gray sky. Whatever fledging steps their relationship had taken last night had most likely been destroyed in the wake of her sudden disappearance. Will Jae even talk to me now?

Do you want her to?

Yes. But that was something that would have to wait.

How long? The question was taking her in a direction she didn’t want to - couldn’t face going in. Not now, not just yet. First came Rio.

… THIRTY THREE…

"Okay. No Riordan Lewis. Hardly surprising, I guess, that a seven-year-old isn’t listed with the DMV or any other state agency." Jae spoke more to herself than to the gargoyle, though as usual he listened patiently. She crumpled the fax, tossing it over her shoulder where it dropped through a makeshift hoop and into the waste bin.

It was dead end after dead end. Even the phone interview with Heidi had been shrouded in mystery - Reed’s friend had called them. And just to top it off - she couldn’t remember the woman’s last name. Part of her kept thinking it was Doctor Chapel - but that was Star Trek. As for the airlines...between the red tape of customer confidentiality and the fact that three hundred planes had flown out of LAX within two hours of when she suspected Reed had left, it had proved to be worse than a dead end. She was fast running out of ideas. It seemed that the actress had taken paranoia to a whole new level when it came to hiding her son from Roan Pirsig and the rest of the world. Roan...

Electrified, Jae jumped out of her chair and grabbed the small box of things she’d taken out of Roan’s office. There it was. A legal-sized manila folder, labeled ‘Reed Lewis’, rested where she’d placed it after cleaning out her mentor’s office. Going over to the couch, she settled on one end, then mentally braced for what she may or may not find within the slim packet.

Neat, block letters filled a page in front of her while the opposite side held a black and white 8x10 glossy of a young woman on the steps of what looked to be a college of some sort. It was the eyes, Jae realized. Only the eyes were the same. And it must have been the eyes that drew Roan.

Her own eyes drifted across to the notes and photocopied news articles, and she began to read. Not until the sentences blurred and ran, ink pulled by the tears that had splattered onto the coldly distilled words of a child’s nightmare, used to forge a woman’s chains, did Jae realize she was crying.

In her hands she held the blueprint Roan had used to manipulate Reed emotionally, the tragic facts of her life, nothing more to him than a means to control. Phrases jumped out off the page, and she slammed the file shut, not wanting to see her friend profiled and dissected.

Swallowing, Jae leaned her head forward, hands twined in her hair, while she digested the information. She’d known that Reed was an orphan. What she hadn’t known was that the fire department had found an unconscious Reed still clinging to the door of the room where the rest of her family had died. The handle had been covered in blood from the wounds on the child’s hands, where splinters had dug under the skin as she had tried to force the door open. And Roan’s only commentary had been - ‘Lewis has no surviving family, no place she belongs. Use of words like family, belong, safe, should trigger the desired response.’

Horrified, she threw the file down in disgust. How had she done it? How had Reed survived all of that? And how was she coping now?

She no longer had the slightest doubt about what had driven Reed to disappear. It had to be Rio. Looking again at the file where it lay splayed on the floor, Jae tried to conceive of what it must have been like to lose your entire family, and then to face losing another one all over again. She couldn’t.

A yawn crept out of its hiding place and Jae looked at the clock, surprised to find that it was already three in the morning. Three more hours and the studio would burst to life, another day of filming started.

Hard to believe that slightly more than twenty-four hours ago things had seemed so full of promise. "How long after I left did you?" She tried to puzzle it out. If Reed had left right after she did - it would still have taken at least an hour and a half to get to LAX, and the earliest flight out she could have taken would have been at around four a.m. Factoring in the time change, Reed should have arrived on the East Coast by about six p.m. Pacific Time. That was nine hours ago. So why hadn’t she called?

"Now there’s a dumb question." The stone ornament silently agreed, its large eyes watching her solemnly. "I doubt I’d be my first priority either." Reed was probably focused entirely on Rio, and though it made life hell for her, it was something, having watched Danielle with the twins, that she could fully understand. It didn’t make her any less angry at being left hanging, but she could at least understand.

On the desk her notes looked back up at her, and Jae made another tick next to an item, drumming the pencil against the paper, thinking about which item to tackle next. She couldn’t lie to Cait indefinitely. Not only did it make her uncomfortable to lie to her friend, but if she had a hope in Hades of pulling this off, she was going to need Cait’s help.

There was nothing she could do about that at this hour. The AD would be in soon enough, and they could make a plan then. Maybe Cait would be able to push a few buttons on the Internet and voilà, instant actress location. Of course she had to survive the angry lecture that was sure to come with the confession.

… … …

Six a.m. and the hospital corridors were beginning to come to life around her. Nurses were changing shift and patients were being checked, visual reassurance that monitors and respirators were functioning properly.

In his bed Rio slept, unaware of the new day and the victory it brought. In blankets, he looked so small, the pale white of his skin nearly lost in the crisp whiteness of the sheets. Only the dark curls provided a reference point, but Reed didn’t need to see his face to know what he looked like.

Just twenty-six hours ago he had been awake, early even for him, the excitement of going to a grown-up breakfast and a chance to see the newest technology having made it impossible for him to sleep. I should have been there.

If you had been home, you’d have been in Eastport, no where near a hospital this well equipped.

Had he understood what was happening to him? Did he call out for me?

Stop. You can’t play this game right now.

Balanced on the stool Geoff had stolen from somewhere deep in the bowels of Eastern Maine Medical Center, she continued to stare through the window into the cardiac intensive care unit. Separated from her son by an inch of glass that might as well have been the three thousand miles she had just traveled.

"Ms. Lewis?" A gentle hand touched her shoulder. "You can go in for a minute now if you’d like."

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak through the sudden upwelling of tears. Arriving after eleven, she hadn’t been allowed in to see him, consigned instead to the hall and her perch.

"You need to put these on, okay?"

Reed traded the blue Navy sweatshirt she’d stolen from the set for a loose-fitting beige surgical scrub shirt and a facemask, then hobbled after the nurse. The bed had been lowered and a chair placed next to it. From inside a plastic bag tucked in the top corner of the bed next to Rio’s head a tape recording of ‘The Swiss Family Robinson’ that she had made for him was playing softly. Carefully she reached over and turned it off, the large buttons easy to manipulate through the sterile plastic.

"You’re gonna miss the best part if you don’t wake up soon, kiddo." She tucked a stray curl back into place with a gloved hand, her touch lingering to stroke his brow. "I love you. Remember that, okay?" Words were hard to find, the need to be optimistic and cheerful warring with her desire to just crush him against her body, holding him here by sheer force of will.

Her voice was ragged, tired from the long trip and the two days without sleep, but softly she began to sing Rio’s favorite song.

She let the words trail off, tears stinging her eyes. "Pretty bad I guess, hunh? Chris de Burgh I’m not. I have a friend though. She could do it justice. Jae could probably even play it on the guitar. You met her and her nephew Alex. Alex called yesterday." Was it yesterday? What was today? Friday? Wednesday then. Two days ago. "Wednesday, seemed pretty eager to let you beat up on him in Proton again. Wake up, Rio. Please." She held his hand in hers, head down on the bed, while she continued to stroke his brow, letting touch say what she no longer had words for.

"Ms. Lewis? It’s time to go. We need to change his dressing."

The same friendly nurse had returned, and Reed lifted her head.

"Dr. Zerafa just called. He’s on his way over to talk to you, and he’ll meet you in the family room across the hall in about twenty minutes."

Reluctantly she stood, and though she knew it wasn’t allowed, pulled her face mask down. The nurse met her eyes then deliberately turned away. "Thank-you," she whispered, then leaned down, planting a light kiss on each of his eyelids. "I love you." Straightening up, she pulled the mask back over her face, then turned the tape back on. "That’ll need to be flipped over soon."

"We’ll take care of it. Is that your voice?" The nurse, whose name badge identified her as Barbara, asked, leading the way past the other beds and out of the room.

"Yes." Reed let the mask fall again to her neck, retaining it and the shirt for later. The tapes had been made during the long nights of trips to Japan, as she tried to pass a love of classics onto her son.

"You have a lovely voice. What was it you were singing?"

Reed knew the nurse was just trying to be friendly, the questions designed to take her mind off of her troubles for a minute or two, so she smiled wanly instead of snarling back. "Just a song Rio likes."

Inside the family room Heidi was slumped against Geoff, his head tilted back against the wall, eyes shut. One of her smaller hands was twined with his, the other curled around his waist. For some reason he always reminded her of a large teddy bear, though Rio seemed to view him more as a horse. Reed watched them for a long second, aware now as she hadn’t been before of what she was missing. That there was no one to hold her against the storm threatening to break over them all. Jae had reminded her what it was like to have safety and comfort in someone else’s strength - and for an instant that was exactly where she wished she could be.

"Hey." She reached over and touched Geoff’s shoulder. "You awake?"

"Ayup." The sudden start to his body giving lie to the claim.

"Better wake Heidi. Alan Zerafa’s on his way over."

Geoff came fully awake, and he shook Heidi’s gently. "Wake up, sweetheart."

Heidi came awake faster even than her husband had. "What’s wrong?" One hand rubbed absently at her eyes, brushing away the signs of sleep.

"Doctor’s on his way up to talk to us." Even to her, her voice sounded tight.

"Oh." Heidi turned to face her, absently rubbing the sleep from still tired eyes. "How is he?"

"Still sleeping." It was easier to say that than use the word unconscious. Reed sat down on the chair opposite her friends and watched the door, waiting. The sick dread that she had been pushing away, refusing to acknowledge was back, leaving her feeling very small and alone. "Excuse me. I need to make a phone call."

"Now?"

"Yes." Because Reed knew that if she didn’t make it now, she might not ever make it.

… … …

Cait was beginning to get the sense that Jae was avoiding her. No matter where she went on the set, the director had just left or was expected momentarily. "Methinks there is something rotten in the state of Denmark."

It was obvious why Jae was avoiding her. Lewis had done a runner, and now the director was covering for the actress. She left wardrobe and started back towards the main offices. On the way she passed the second unit crew who was busy packing up for the return trip to Miami. Jae could fudge with the schedule here all she wanted, but without a lead actress in Miami it was all money down the drain.

Even if Lewis came back, and that she’d believe when she saw it, Jae had to get a grip. That her friend had no perspective where the actress was concerned was abundantly clear. She’d known Jae long enough to recognize when she was being lied to, and when something was eating at the director.

Inside her pocket her cell began to vibrate, and she dug it out, checking the number before accepting the call. "Hey Babe, what’s up?"

Thom chuckled, "Whenever you say that, I get an urge to look over my shoulder and find the woman you’re talking to. I got the address you wanted. You were right, we did have it on file."

"Hold on." She slid the palm pilot out of its case, made a few taps with the stylus and opened an address entry. "Okay go ahead."

"Lewis lives in a rented cottage on the property of her friend, Dr. Heidi Chappelle, her husband and son. Seems to keep a pretty low profile. Most of what we have is in regards to her disappearance from Pirsig’s film and her popularity in Japan."

"Where is it?"

"Eastport, Maine. Pretty close to the Canadian border, tucked up in the Bay of Fundy. I don’t have a street address, just a rural route and a farm name."

"Figures."

Thom laughed again. "You know that I am sitting on a pretty big story, right?"

"You’re an editor, Hon - it’s your job to sit on stories. But I promise you a bigger one, okay?"

"I’d settle for dinner and a movie."

"Deal. Now what’s the name of the farm?"

"Fairsing Farms, rural route number three."

"Thanks Babe, big kiss."

"No problem. Dinner tonight? I’ll cook."

"Umm sounds lovely, but I have no idea what’s going to happen here today. Can we wing it?"

"Yep. Head over if you want dinner. There isn’t anything I cook that takes longer than fifteen minutes, so it won’t matter what time you get here."

"I’ll see you tonight then. Bye."

"Bye."

It was tough to get too bent out of shape about stuff with Thom’s quietly reassuring presence in her life. Nothing much seemed to phase him, and he carried on, helping where he could and listening when he couldn’t.

She didn’t know why Pirsig had let Lewis go when she’d walked off his set, but she’d be damned if she was going to let Lewis ruin this for Jae. Damned if she’d let Jae ruin it for Jae, either. Armed with Reed’s whereabouts, she headed for her friend’s office, and hopefully the truth.

The door to the director’s office was ajar, and in her anger and haste, she didn’t stop to knock. Ready or not, Babe, here I come.
 
 

Jae heard the sharp, staccato footfalls move along the hallway and pause briefly at the door, before continuing down the hall. She exited her office and crossed to Cait’s.

Cait’s door was wide open. Jae steeled herself against the thunderstorm about to hit and knocked on the wooden frame. "Can I come in?"

"You’re the boss."

Oh oh, this is bad. The only time Cait ever referred to her that way was when the AD had a point to make - usually about personal stuff crossing the line. "And that has stopped you before, when exactly?" Best to get this out now.

"Okay. What the bloody hell are you thinking? It’s obvious what you’re thinking with. Did you chuck your ethics out the fucking window?"

"On second thought, I’ll come back when you can stop swearing at me."

"What Jae? Can’t face the truth? You are putting this picture at risk - and for what? That is so not like you, so what’s going on? Because from where I sit it looks like Lewis is gone, and you’re pretending nothing happened."

Cait was just getting started, and Jae decided to let the AD get it off her chest. Without the phone call that had come through while she’d been rummaging around in wardrobe Cait’s accusations would have more than a grain of truth to them. She’d missed the call - it having been to her office number rather than the cell - but call display had given her a lead and she’d eagerly followed it. The number had turned out to be to a pay phone at Eastern Maine Medical Center. There had been no message, but the fact of the call had been enough. It had to have come from Reed, and a call from a hospital meant that Rio had to have been the reason she had left without a word.

"You’re not even listening to me - are you?"

"No," Jae said honestly. "I was just sort of waiting until you were done. Are you done?"

"No. You might not know or care where she is --"

"What makes you think I don’t know where she is?"

"Every time her name is spoken, I swear you’re going to tear a bald patch in your hair, the way you are twisting it. Not to mention the fact that you lied to me yesterday. And while we’re on that topic - that hurt. Either you trust me or you don’t. You’re not the only one with stuff at stake here, you know."

"Touché." Chagrined, Jae walked to the window, thinking. Self-consciously, she kept her fingers out of her hair, the nail of her index finger picking at her thumb instead. Do I have the right to tell her? Wrong question, m’grrl. Do ye trust her - that’s the one she’s asking. She’d tried to avoid a lecture about Reed’s unreliability and had gotten a different one instead. And bottom line was she needed Cait’s help. But do you trust her? Yes. No doubts. All the way. Forgive me, Reed. But to keep your secrets from the rest of the world, I may have to share them with Caitlynn.

"Jae?"

Cait had come up beside her and Jae looked over at her friend, searching for the right words.

"Hey. What’s wrong, Hon?" The AD wiped away a tear, and enfolded her in a hug. "It’ll be okay. We’ll figure something out, okay? Even if I have to drag her back from that farm in Eastport with a team of horses."

Letting the tears flow, Jae made her decision. "She’s not in Eastport. She’s at Eastern Maine Medical Center in Bangor." And while Cait held her she let the details tumble out, holding back only the name of Riordan’s father.

"Oh Christ, Jae. I’m so sorry. How is he?"

"I don’t know. I don’t know how either of them are."

… THIRTY FOUR…

Heidi watched Reed limp slowly back into the room, her shoulders slumped even more than when she had left the room. She squeezed Geoff’s hand and stood up. "You know, if you were a horse, we’d have to shoot you." Reed was skittish at the best of times, and Heidi knew that a direct approach to an emotional issue was not a good idea. The actress would totally shut them out.

"Hunh?"

"The way you’re hobbling around. If you were a horse, I’d have to shoot you. Now C’mere." Before Reed could protest, she steered the taller woman to a seat next to Geoff.

"They don’t shoot horses anymore, do they?"

"Ayup. The stubborn ones." That got a weak snort of laughter, and Heidi settled herself on Reed’s other side, hooking a chair to prop their feet up on as she sat. "Are you going to let me take a look at that?"

Something flashed behind the blue eyes but was gone before she could get a handle on what it was.

"No. But I might be convinced to let a real doctor do it - one that won’t shoot me."

Just then Dr. Zerafa entered the room, friendly smile lighting his careworn face. "Heidi, Geoff." He nodded in their direction, acknowledging their presence. "It’s good to see you again, Reed. I just wish it had been under better circumstances."

Next to her, Heidi could feel Reed tense, though the expression on the actress’ face never changed. Half expecting it to be ignored, she reached over to squeeze Reed’s hand, surprised when she didn’t pull away from the touch. She let her hand remain where it was and let Reed handle the doctor.

"How is he?"

Zerafa sat in the chair opposite them, removing the stethoscope from around his neck and tucking it into a pocket as he sat. "I just had a look in on him. We’re going to upgrade his condition from critical to serious."

"That doesn’t answer my question."

"We’ve scheduled a CT scan for later this morning. That should tell us whether there are any abnormalities impairing brain function."

Heidi noticed he avoided using the word damage. "How are his vitals?"

The doctor appeared to brighten somewhat, and Reed relaxed a touch at the sign.

"Strong. His blood pressure is good, pulse rate is normal. His lungs are a little congested, but the respirator is taking the brunt of the load. Reflexes are good, and I don’t think we are looking at a possible coma. I think his body is just getting the rest it needs. Which is what you should be doing. He’s going to need you when he wakes up."

Heidi knew it was an old medical trick. One she used with the owners of her own patients, knowing that they would believe because she did - and sometimes belief could make miracles.

"Thank-you," Reed spoke, the ragged tiredness in her voice filling the room."

"You’re welcome. Now go on, get some sleep. I’ll meet with you again this afternoon after we’ve run the tests and have more information." He got up and left the room, leaving silent relief behind him.

They sat like that for awhile, how long exactly she didn’t know, but finally Geoff spoke. "Dibs on the shower."

"Ladies first, Geoff."

"You two go on ahead. I want to see Rio again before I go." Reed’s voice was quiet and Heidi could hear the mix of guilt and pain the actress wore like a mantle.

"You’re not going to be any good to him if you don’t get some sleep."

"I’m not going to be able to sleep. I’ll be by later."

Geoff looked over at her and nodded, so Heidi stood up and rested a hand on one of Reed’s broad shoulders. Shoulders that tried to hold more than was good for any one person to hold. "We’ll be back with some lunch, okay?" Letting Reed know that they weren’t fooled, but would support her decision.

For the second time in less than ten minutes, Reed surprised her by laying a hand over hers and squeezing back. "Thanks. For everything."

"What are friends for?" Then she and Geoff left, stopping to take a look in on Rio before making their way to an elevator. "She’s changed."

"Ayup." Geoff hit the down button.

"More open, and at the same time more...not there. Vulnerable almost. Like she’s glued together by sheer will."

"Worried?"

She nodded. "I’m worried about both of them."

… … …

Reed watched Heidi and Geoff leave the small room; heard them pause outside the room where Rio lay sleeping, then continue down the corridor. When she could no longer hear the echo of their shoes on the polished hospital floors, she slumped forward and let the tears flow.

She didn’t let herself cry long, afraid if she let go that she wouldn’t get control back, and she needed to be in control. For Rio.

He had looked so tiny, most of his face hidden under the surgical tape that kept the respiration tubes and various instruments hooked securely in place. I’m so sorry, sweetie. "I wish I could just make it all go away." But she couldn’t. Couldn’t do any more to save her son than she had been able to do to save the rest of her family. Or Will. She was powerless and she hated it. Angry and exhausted, she stood, the pain in her leg nearly forcing her back onto the bench. "Got to get that looked at." It was getting worse, the pain growing more intense each time she forced the leg to bear her weight.

"Ms. Lewis?" The hesitant inquiry came from a friendly looking nurse in pale pink pastel scrubs.

One corner of her mind wondered for an instant why everyone always called her Ms. Lewis. Never Miss or Mrs., just Ms. Or Bitch. "Yes."

"We’re taking your son over to the pediatric ward. You can come over with us if you’d like."

"Thanks." She took two steps forward, a sudden excruciating pain shooting through her hip and into her back, then hit the ground hard. Her head connected with the edge of a small coffee table and fresh pain exploded in her skull, then was gone as the darkness claimed her.

… … …

Are we even going to be able to pull this off? Jae settled in, adjusted the seatback and wiggled until she found a comfortable spot. Eyes closed, she tried not to think about what lay ahead. Not the next week, the next day or especially the next few minutes.

A yawn emerged from deep within her body. Jae gave into it fully, not bothering to stifle the reflex.

What are you going to say to her? Before or after I yell at her for taking off? She asked herself wryly. The responses would be different, and that’s where the difficulty in this mess really was. With Reed she was torn almost constantly, it seemed, between what she ought to feel for the actress on a purely professional level and what she felt for the woman as just plain Jae. It was something she’d been avoiding thinking about too deeply, but focusing on her problems beat thinking about the impending take-off, so Jae let her mind tackle the issue.

Work had always been simple. A welcome respite from the tangle of her personal life and its trail of disastrous relationships. A place where her dreams flowed from paper and across a giant screen into the subconscious of her audience. And now it was complicated beyond belief.

There was no good reason for the course she had decided to set; no justifiable explanation for her evasions, half-truths and outright lies to Chambers. Nothing except a gut level feeling that this was right. The same feeling she’d had during a Christmas dinner more than twenty years ago. I must be tired to be thinking about that again.

The table had been crowded with various cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents along with more immediate family members. She’d been squeezed in between her cousin James and her sister, a situation that made it difficult for her as a left-hander to eat neatly, so she’d been quiet, trying not to draw her mother’s attention.

They’d been waiting for everyone to finish picking at the large turkey, and her grandmother had asked James about school. Her cousin had looked panic-stricken, shooting a guilty look at his parents before responding that he was going but didn’t really have a clue about what he was going to study.

"Nonsense, James. You just need to apply yourself. Engineering, Law or Medicine, that’s where the future is," Uncle Robert had admonished.

"Oh leave the boy alone, Rob. Nobody knows what they want to do at his age. The whole world is open to them."

"I do." To this day Jae wasn’t sure what had prompted her to speak up, but she’d looked over at her grandmother, and it had felt right, so she’d gone with it.

Uncle Robert had laughed.

"Hush Robert. What are you going to be Jae?"

For an instant, seeing everyone watching her, she’d almost backed out, afraid to disappoint them. "I’m going to make movies."

Her mother had looked horrified, and of the others only her father and grandparents hadn’t laughed.

"She wants to be an actress of all things," Aunt Helen had trilled, bringing fresh laughter.

"No." She still remembered thrusting her small jaw out defiantly, determined to make them understand. "I want to make movies."

"Ah, the lass wants t’ be a Director." Her grandfather’s tone carried respect, and she could still hear the way he had said the word. It was the same way her Uncle Rob had said Engineering or Law.

She’d nodded then looked down at her plate. When next she looked up, both of her grandparents were studying her, and she had tried to figure out what they were thinking.

"How do you know, Jacqueline? You’re only eight. I’m ten years older and I still don’t know," James had asked with a mix of disbelief and condescension.

She had thought about it for a minute, aware of the indulgently expectant looks from her family. "I just do. Because." She’d struggled to find the words, unable, with her child’s mind, to put a name to what she felt.

"Because it feels right," supplied her grandmother, exchanging looks with her father. "Well if you believe, then so do we."

Then Danielle had spilled her milk reaching for more squash and events had moved on, her announcement apparently forgotten. But it hadn’t been. When her birthday had rolled around the following March, her grandparents had taken her aside. "There are two things that will take you farther in life than anything else. One is love, and the other is belief. Always believe in yourself. We do. Belief can make the impossible real, and love makes it worth it. Can you remember that?"

Solemnly, she’d nodded. "Yes." Though she really hadn’t quite understood.

"Happy Birthday, my girl." Her grandfather had kissed the top of her head as her grandmother had handed over an envelope.

"Thanks Granda. Thank-you Nan." The packet had ripped apart easily in her hand, a bankbook and a folded certificate inside.

"Belief is priceless, but money helps."

Jae let the memory trail off, fresh tears stinging her tired eyes. That’s what it comes down to, isn’t it? How much you believe. In yourself - and in her.

Except there wasn’t a logical reason in the world why she should believe in Reed, nothing tangible on which to hang her hopes. Nothing except gut instinct and faith. Belief.

And like her grandparents had with her, she’d believe enough for both of them. And the other? Jae let herself think seriously about the question, one she had been avoiding. The other will have to wait. I can’t afford to deal with the emotional component of all this right now. It would be hard, work no longer a viable escape, but she’d manage somehow.

And what would be wrong with trying?

Failing. The belief part I can do. It’s relationships I suck at. Not quite willing to admit it was more than a crush.

More settled in her mind now, Jae closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, oblivious to the cramped chair or the crowded plane.

… THIRTY FIVE…

"Please. I have the right to say good-bye. Please."

"The rules are quite clear - immediate family only. And the family has asked that you not be allowed in."

"All I need is a minute...please." The man continued to plead, his arguments falling on deaf ears.

Reed sat up slightly. The commotion in the ER had woken her, and she’d lain there for the past few minutes unintentionally listening to what was being said. Her head ached slightly, and when she flexed her right thigh, it throbbed painfully. The door to her room was open and various noises filtered through. Cart wheels skidded along the polished floor, the PA system made sporadic announcements, and from somewhere outside she thought she heard the sound of a construction crane.

"Please..." The voice was tired, ragged with fear and desperation, and Reed found herself feeling for the unknown man.

"I have things to do. Now excuse me." The person she assumed was the nurse spoke tersely and, Reed thought, with unnecessary cruelty.

She could feel all too clearly what the stranger must be going to through. To be that close to a loved one and not be allowed in to say good-bye was unthinkable. If it were Rio...

Tears stung at her eyes, and she swung her legs over the side of the bed. Nausea forced her back down and a soft grunt escaped as she fell against the pillow.

"Are you okay?"

Reed looked over, startled. It was the man whose voice she had heard arguing with the nurse. He couldn’t have been a day under sixty, but his face held the same child-like dazed confusion she’d seen on her son’s face when one of the farm animals had died despite Heidi’s best effort. "All things considered, yeah, I’m fine." Worried about my son, but fine. "You?"

The man was twisting his fingers, and his face showed gray with exhaustion. "No." His voice broke on the simple syllable and he looked up at her helplessly. "My...we’ve been together thirty years...and the kids, well...it don’t mean a thing to them. I’m not family, never will be." He shrugged again, and before she could reply he was gone.

A call buzzer was pinned neatly to the crisp white sheets to the left of her pillow, and she reached across, depressing the button. It was a long five minutes before a nurse arrived, time enough to worry about Rio and to think about the man whose pain she could feel as if it were her own.

"Awake are we, Ms. Lewis?" It was the same nurse from the hallway, her officious tone hiding whatever bedside manner she might have had. Reed decided that she disliked the nurse on principle.

"Obviously." She adjusted her position so that the nurse wasn’t looking down at her. "I need to check on a patient in the pediatric ICU."

"I’m afraid I can’t help you with that until the doctor comes in to talk to you."

"Listen, you cold-hearted bitch. I’m not asking you to help me. I’m telling you to. Clear?"

"The doctor will be here shortly. You can take it up with him." The nurse made a note on her chart and left the room.

Reed let her eyes roam over the white walls with their shiny metal fixtures. Pleated curtains presumably hung in front of the large observation windows blocking light from both the hallway and the world beyond. The cloying smell of antiseptic completed the nearly claustrophobic effect. I’m not waiting around in here.

"Hey. You still out there?" Reed called out.

"Me?" The old man stuck his head back in the door. "She don’t like you none either."

"Guess not. Listen, if you bring me a wheelchair, I can buy you five minutes worth of diversion."

Hope lit up his pale eyes and for the first time in a couple of days Reed felt good about what was happening. "You’d do that?"

"Being an actress has its useful moments. Now go on. Find me that chair."

He was back in a couple of minutes, pushing a battered hospital wheelchair. "How’s this?"

"Well it won’t win the Winston Cup, but it’ll do." The best that could be said about the gray device was that all its wheels appeared to be accounted for. "Want to help me out of here?" She didn’t trust herself to get up without keeling over, and the goal of this exercise was to end up in pediatrics. Where in the hell are Heidi and Geoff? What? Have them show up and spoil the fun? C’mon, admit it - you’re looking forward to sticking it to Ms. Unctuous. Yup.

He ambled over to the bed, and thrust out a large hand. "Josiah Bennett at your service." He sketched at slight bow and kissed her knuckles gallantly.

"Reed Lewis. Shall we?" Together they managed to get her into the chair without pulling her leg. Settled in its narrow confines, she looked up at him. "Okay, here’s the plan. I’ll cause a ruckus in the hall - I can guarantee you that I’m not supposed to be out of bed - so they’ll swarm all over me the instant I go out there. I’ll keep them busy while you say good-bye, then you have to come out and get caught so I can get out of here. It’s not long but it’s the best I can do. Deal?"

"Thank-you."

"Don’t mention it." She disengaged the brake, and ran her palms over the smooth gray tires, getting a feel for the chair’s motion. "Better go out and get ready."

She gave him thirty seconds, then wheeled herself out into the hall. The exertion made her head throb, which did nothing for her mood.

"And where do you think you’re going?" Nurse Unctuous had materialized in front of the wheelchair.

"I heard Nascar was looking for new drivers, thought I’d apply." It was good to let the anger and frustration out, and she couldn’t think of a better target - or a better excuse to be confrontational.

"Are we going to cooperate or do I need to call security and have you restrained?"

"Well I’m not going to cooperate, so you figure it out." An audience was beginning to gather, and even the nursing station clerk was focused on what was happening. This is sort of fun. She smiled up at the nurse, eager to see what would happen next. Out of the corner of her eye, Reed noticed Josiah slip into the room next to hers. Stage one complete.

"Just because you’re some fancy pants actress doesn’t mean you get to make the rules. This isn’t Hollywood."

It was the perfect opening. "And just because you are supposed to enforce the rules - it doesn’t give you the right to be cruel. Frankly, your bedside manner sucks. You could have called ICU for me, and you could have let that man in to say good-bye."

Hatred sparked in the nurse’s eye, the intensity surprising Reed.

"Is there a problem here?" A man’s voice interjected, and she broke off her visual war with the nurse to look at the newcomer. A youngish man in a white lab coat was walking next to a couple around the same age. He said something to them and they peeled away. Into the same room Josiah had entered.

"Oh shit," Reed muttered under her breath, then spoke up. "Yes. There is."

Without warning Josiah was flung into the hallway by the man who had just entered the room.

"You fucking faggot scum!" Before anyone could stop him, he kicked at Josiah, continuing to scream obscenities. "Keep your perverted murdering hands off my father!"

Reed looked around, shocked. Everyone was frozen. "Do something!" she yelled, catapulting the doctor and several orderlies into action. The hall was full of screaming people. Quickly she rolled the chair out of the way and turned it in the direction of the elevator. As she did, Reed looked in the eyes of the woman who was standing in the hospital room door. It was a look of implacable hatred and giddy triumph.

That could be me. This time Reed knew the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach had nothing to do with the bump on her head. She didn’t want to believe that she would be that mean, but she knew otherwise. The elevator arrived and she maneuvered her way inside, away from the tragedy unfolding in the hallway.

Thick metal doors slid shut on the sounds of hate and pain, and the floor under her chair vibrated as she began her ascent. Reed got off on the third floor and slowly wheeled herself in the general direction of pediatrics. The dull ache in her head had begun to subside, and she felt better for the sleep the injury had inadvertently forced on her.

She rounded another corner and stopped, recognizing a hall she’d already been down. "You, my dear, have the directional sense of a deaf bat in a labyrinth. On the bright side - if I don’t know where I am, then neither do they." Reed muttered to herself and kept moving.

One thing was certain, she had to find her way before some conscientious nurse decided she was out of place or nuts. Reed smiled, laughing lightly, that could work. It was even in the script. Well sort of - Kerry had been the one stuck in the hospital, not Dar. The thought sobered her for a moment as Jae and the movie came to mind. I need to call her again.

A swift scan of the surprisingly empty hallway was all she needed to locate a linen room. Furtively she looked around before rolling inside and closing the door. Reed quickly swapped the gown for a clean set of pale blue scrubs. "Whatever happened to garden variety green?" She tied the drawstring on the pants, realizing as she did that she had a problem. No shoes. Her bare toes were winking up at her. "So much for plan Dar." Without shoes, she couldn’t copy the way Dar had gotten Kerry out of the hospital. No one would buy a doctor with no shoes.

If I had my cell...if I had my cell, I’d still be hooped. Dead cells don’t make calls. Hell, if I had my cell, I’d have my shoes. Reed flopped back into the wheelchair, thinking. "Beam me up Scotty."

A white box halfway up the wall to the left of the door caught her eye, giving her an idea, and she smiled. Bingo. Plan B. Reed cautiously exited the closet, eyes seeking a clue to her location. A hanging sign to her left indicated that she had found her way to 4A-West. Re-entering the room, she reached up and pressed the button marked ‘all call’, made her announcement requesting Dr. Chappelle, then took up a post in the hallway. Reed tucked the chair into a window alcove that afforded her a clear view but allowed her to remain inconspicuous.

Outside she could see it was already gray and dark, but that didn’t mean anything in New England during autumn. The incident in emergency made her bet that it was around eleven, or maybe one in the afternoon - during visiting hours. Which means I was out for a good while. Is that why the nurse wouldn’t connect me with pediatrics? Now that she had a minute to think, the uneasy scared feeling that had all but owned her the last couple of days returned full force. Did something happen? Something - a nebulous possibility that would see her son well again or not; an outcome to cherish or to fear, all unknowing of its reality.

"You rang?" Heidi had rounded a corner and was standing with one hand on her hip, the other waving in the air. "Why didn’t you just stay put in ER?"

"How’s Rio?"

"Fine. He’s still unconscious, but they did an MRI instead of a CT, and everything looks as normal as can be expected. How’s the head?" Her voice held a note of optimism.

"Still attached." She turned the chair so that Heidi could get at the handles. "C’mon, let’s get out of here."

Heidi shook her head. "I don’t think so. You are headed back to ER."

"No."

Finally she gave in. "Okay, fine. I bet Rio hates it when you look at him like that."

"He’s smart enough to do what he’s told. Head injuries are nothing to take lightly. Look, it won’t take long."

… … …

"Won’t take long, yeah right." Reed was sitting in a comfortable chair next to Rio’s bed, leg elevated slightly. She’d spent three hours in ER exchanging the odd glaring look with Nurse Unctuous, who had apparently made it her personal mission to track and record every one of the actress’ movements.

At least she had her clothes back. They had been laundered while she waited, Heidi and Geoff having taken them to a dry cleaner that offered one-hour service.  They had also picked up a new pair of pajamas for Rio, and when the nurse had come in to change his dressing the last time, they’d carefully put the soft flannel ones on in place of the hospital gown.

He could have been sleeping, his face peacefully composed, breathing evenly, his chest rising and falling on its own, no longer hooked to the respirator, though a GT tube remained securely in place. She picked the book up off the bed, leafing through the pages until she found her spot. "Conan turned to the gold and ivory alter indicated and took up a great round jewel, clear as crimson crystal; and he knew that this was the Heart of the Elephant."

"You know I’m surprised you even have to read those anymore."

Reed looked up. Heidi was leaning against the doorframe. "It’s one I haven’t read before. It was in the parents’ room."

"Ah, a missed classic."

"You’d rather I read ‘Goosebumps’? They had a Wishbone book - ‘Joan of Arc’ I think."

"I kinda liked the ‘Knights of the Shrieking Armour’."

"You would."

"Ayup. Geoff and I are going back to the hotel. One of the nurses will bring a cot in for you in a little while."

"Thanks."

"No problem." Heidi walked over to the bed and stood quietly. The brunette’s eyes were ringed with dark circles, worry telling its story clearly in the lines of her face. She leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Night sweetheart, see you in the morning." The words were meant to be optimistic, but came out thick and choked.

"Hey." Reed leaned forward. "You okay?" They hadn’t really talked yet, all three of them skirting the seriousness of the situation. "No lies."

"This isn’t good, Reed. I know what Zerafa says - that’s partly his job - but the longer he stays like this, the less likely it is that he’ll be okay. So no. I’m not okay. I’m scared and worried. And it doesn’t help that you went and banged yourself up, so that now I have two of you to worry about."

The words were like a shock of cold water, and she looked at Heidi, unsure of how to respond. She’d already suspected that things were more dicey with Rio than the staff was letting on. Hearing it out loud only confirmed her fears.

Heidi sighed. "You still don’t get it do you?"

"Get what?"

"Rio isn’t the only honorary Chappelle. No matter what happens, you still have a place to come home to."

"I know."

"No Reed, I don’t think you do. Not everyone disappears, or hangs around because they want something."

Reed shrugged.

Heidi turned to face her. "And that’s what scares me the most. That if we lose him, we’ll lose you too." Tears ran down the vet’s face. "So remember us, okay? We’re all going to need each other to get through this."

"I’ll try." It was easier to think of Heidi and her husband in terms of being there for Rio; safer. "It’s just..."

"Hard. I know. But you can’t live your life in fear of things that have already happened."

A change of subject was in order, and she cast around desperately for something to say. "Did Geoff have any luck getting my cell phone recharged?"

Heidi shook her head. "No. And I get the hint. End mushy moment. But that does remind me." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a plastic card. "Here’s the phone card you asked for. It’s good for local and long distance."

"Thanks. Can you stay with him for a minute while I go make a call?"

"Ayup. Two mysterious calls in one day. You didn’t meet someone out there in LaLa land, did you?"

"It’s not mysterious."

"Reed, everyone you talk to is here in this hospital. So it’s a bona fide mystery."

"Only to the nosy. If you must know, I’m trying to reach someone back on the set." She could only imagine Heidi’s reaction if the other woman knew the half of it.

"Unh hunh." Heidi settled into the recently vacated chair. "You still didn’t answer the question."

"Yes I did." With that she wheeled herself out into the hallway and headed for the bank of pay phones next to the elevator. Reed dialed the familiar number and listened to it ring. A clicking noise on the line indicated the call had been picked up, but the beep followed by a canned voice revealed it to be the answering machine again, so once more she hung up. "Next time ask Jae for the fucking area code." The only number she knew completely was the office one, Jae having been the one to call every other time they’d spoken.

Reed wheeled back into the room and stopped at the doorway, holding back a laugh.

"The Cimmerian turned and fled from the chamber, down the silver stairs," Heidi read breathlessly.

"I thought you didn’t like Conan?"

"Argh. Reed! Don’t sneak up on people like that. And I don’t - it’s too gory."

"I edit the gore. And I wasn’t sneaking." The brakes locked into position, and she gingerly switched from the wheelchair to the more comfortable one the nursing staff had provided.

"If you say so. What do you want for breakfast?"

"Hotcakes and sausage. And coffee. A big coffee."

"Alright. See you in the morning."

"Night, Heidi." Then the other woman was gone and once more she was alone with her son. Reed adjusted his covers, and turned the light down a touch. The combination of hitting her head and reading for a couple of hours was making her eyes ache. "You know, I think I need glasses. Not terribly glamorous for an actress though hunh? What do you think? Should I get those big heavy frames that are all the rage right now? Or a pair of wire rimmed granny glasses? Or how about those pince-nez ones like in Matrix?"

She remembered the first night they’d gone to see it. The theatre owner had not been happy to have a seven-year-old in the audience on a Saturday night. It still brought a smile to her face. Rio had leaned over to the man behind the wicket, earnest-faced and polite. "May I please have two tickets for the nine o’clock showing of ‘The Matrix’?"

"We don’t let children in to see that one."

Rio had looked around, eyes meeting hers and quirked a small grin. "Oh no sir, she’s not a child, honest. I’ll make sure she behaves, and I’ll hold her hand during the scary parts."

They’d ended up seeing it three weeks in a row, the owner letting them in for free the last time.

"Matrix ones like Neo."

She barely heard the ghost-like whisper, her head snapping around at the sound of the longed-for voice. A lump formed in her throat as she looked into the ice blue eyes that were the mirror of her own. Then the lids slid slowly shut and his face relaxed again. She quickly hit the nurse’s button.

"Hey kiddo. Mummy’s right here. C’mon, wake up again, please?" Gently she shook him, trying to get a sign that she hadn’t just imagined it.

A nurse came into the room. "Is everything okay?"

"I was talking to him, then he woke up and spoke. He told me ‘get glasses like Neo’s. His eyes were open and everything." Reed knew she was rambling in her relief. He woke up.

The nurse busied herself taking vitals and lifting Rio’s eyelids, shining light into them much like the doctor in ER had with her earlier. One of Rio’s arms moved, and the nurse stopped what she was doing. A broad grin split her careworn face. "I’ll page the doctor."

"Is he going to be okay?"

"I can’t tell you that for sure, but it looks promising. Young Riordan here is a fighter. The doctor will be able to tell us more."

Relief washed over her and she fought the need to giggle, sure that if she had been standing her legs would not have held her up. The nurse left and Reed forced her chair closer to the bed, taking one of Rio’s smaller hands in both of hers. A snatch of a song from Orlando that had made her feel safe ran round in her head, and she began to sing, not quite on key, excitement making it difficult to hold the notes.

"Halfway down the stairs, is a stair, where I sit. There isn’t any other stair quite like it. "I’m not at the bottom, I’m not at the top; So this is the stair where I always stop. Halfway up the stairs..." she faltered, having not been awake to hear the rest of the song the other times it had been sung.

"Isn’t up, and isn’t down. It isn’t in the nursery, it isn’t in the town...."

The warm alto came from the doorway, and Reed slowly turned, not needing the evidence of her eyes to know who was singing.

"...and all sorts of funny thoughts, run round my head: ‘It really isn’t anywhere! It’s someplace else instead!’"

continued | back to fiction