© 2000 by Ciarán Llachlan Leavitt.

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… THIRTY SIX…

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

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

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

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

"Once more it looks like sex and drugs are the supporting cast in a Hollywood film." The announcer turned slightly and the camera panned across the set, now focusing on a large screen.

Cait stared at the TV as the program cut to commercial. Jae would walk off her plane unaware that a storm had risen in her absence.

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

"No. We have big problems." The commercial break ended and this time Jae’s face filled the screen, flanked by pictures of other women, some of whom Cait recognized as Jae’s former lovers. "We were so worried about protecting Reed that we never even thought about how vulnerable Jae might be."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Probably."

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

"Signourney Weaver ever ask for your phone number?"

"No. Bette Midler did once, though."

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

Cait burst out laughing. "After." She sobered up and looked at her fiancé. "Is this going to get you in trouble?"

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

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

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

"Okay."

"Now what about just between us?"

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

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

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

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

Laughing, he got up off the sofa.

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

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

She dialed the number and waited.

"Cavanaugh residence, Aine speaking."

"Isn’t it past your bedtime?"

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

"I know sweetie. Is your grandmother around?"

"Yes. I’ll get her."

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

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

"Hello, it’s Caitlynn."

"Has something happened? Is Jacqueline okay?"

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

"What do you need us to do?"

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

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

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

"Can’t Thom do anything about this?"

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

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

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

"We’ll do what we can, dear."

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

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

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

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

"Everything set?"

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

"Good. She’s my friend too."

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

… THIRTY SEVEN…

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

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

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

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

"Are we?"

"Friends?"

"Yes."

"I don’t know." Jae could see Reed flinch away from her honesty. "I’d very much like to be," Jae added.

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

"Stay. Please?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"C’mon, kiddo."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"I’m hungry."

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

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

"Hungry, hunh?"

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

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

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

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

"Green Jell-O it is."

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

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

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

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

"Honest."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He giggled. "Aww."

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

"Can I ride in that?"

"We’ll see."

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

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

"Who loves you?"

"Rio does."

"And don’t you forget it."

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

… … …

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mum!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Shuttle bay doors open."

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

"Stay?" he mumbled, eyes closed.

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

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

"I got some rest."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ah." Jae nodded, seeming to understand.

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

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

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

… … …

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

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

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

Everything looked like she was viewing it through a Vaseline lens, people and objects softened and distorted by an invisible film smeared across her mind’s eye. Then time regained its regular tempo and her vision cleared; the room and Reed came into sharp focus as she in turn spoke. "I’ll drive."

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

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

"It’s cold outside."

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

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

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

"No, how could I, of all people, still see it?" Jae rejoined. "C’mon. Let’s get out of here before I start to cry." The wounds they carried were only just below the surface, and if the top got peeled away before they were someplace safe, someplace where they were free to talk and cry, Jae was afraid that the things that needed to be said would die unuttered.

… THIRTY EIGHT…

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

"Jae?"

"Yes?"

"Where are you going?"

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

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

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

What’s going on behind those eyes Reed? Continuing to study the actress’ body language for hints and clues, Jae nearly missed the turnoff to the hotel.

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

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

"I fell." Reed turned away again. Jae saw her take a deep breath, then turn back. "I didn’t stay off my leg and it gave out this morning. An end table generously broke my fall."

"How is it?"

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

"And your head?"

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

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

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

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

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

… … …

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh."

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

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

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

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

And still there was silence.

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

"No."

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

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

"I’ll try."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So what did you want to say?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I never used you. Never. Don’t lay Roan’s crimes on me."

Reed recoiled as though slapped. Defensively, she moved to the attack, zeroing in on the part left unsaid, but instead of sounding angry, her tone of voice betrayed the sadness she hadn’t admitted feeling, even to herself. "But you lied."

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

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

"Am I?" Jae’s fierce eyes were turned in her direction, orbs bright with a glistening in the corner.

"You should have told me."

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

"Right from the beginning."

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you going to let me talk?"

"Yes. Sorry."

"No interruptions?"

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

It wasn’t that it had suddenly gotten any easier. It just wasn’t as daunting, and the words seemed to come naturally, habit of half a lifetime broken. "I know you took blame that belonged to Roan." And to others...but Reed didn’t speak of them. There were some memories too bitter to taste, even for friendship. "For that I’m sorry. It wasn’t fair. But I should have been told, especially after Orlando."

Reed stopped speaking, taking the time to sift through her feelings and the conclusions she had come to on her own in the dead of long, lonely nights. "Maybe I wouldn’t have understood, and I might have walked away." A wry grin touched her lips. "I’d like to think I wouldn’t have treated you any worse than I did Holly."

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

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

At a loss for what to say next, Reed gestured futilely with her hands and stopped talking.

… … …

Jae waited, silent, keeping her promise to listen.  When the silence had stretched out several minutes, she spoke into the space between them, "I started to tell you once, but we got interrupted, and before I got another chance - you knew."

She didn’t duck away from the scrutiny and unflinchingly met Reed’s eyes. What do you hope to see? What do I want you to see? It was one thing for the actress to see the truth in her words, quite another to have the truth behind them discovered.

Reed blinked, lowering her gaze. The abrupt release was like a shock, and it took a minute before Jae was able to regain her bearings.

Jae couldn’t sit still any longer and got out of the chair, her quick stride devoured the distance to the window. A gap in the curtains gave her a chance to fiddle with them. "Truth is, I was scared."

Reed stared at her again, quirking an eyebrow. "Why did you climb my balcony?"

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

… THIRTY NINE…

Reed listened, bemused, to the sounds emanating from the other side of the cream plaster wall. Jae had literally ricocheted off the bed and into the bathroom. Glass clinked against porcelain; water sloshed a fluid melody as it filled the carafe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"De nada."

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

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

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

"Sorry."

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

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

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

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

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

"You’d rather we yelled?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why’d you kiss me?"

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

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

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

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

If it hadn’t been such a serious moment, she would have laughed. As it was, it was a near thing. Reed continued to watch as Jae covered every square inch of the chair with fidgeting body parts.

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

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

… … …

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

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

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

Reed remained silent, eyes guarded.

Jae struggled to stay in the moment. "Are you planning to come back to work?" Her tone of voice was much more casual than she would have believed possible.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thanks."

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

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

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

"And what might that be?"

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

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

… … …

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

"What? I’m not tall enough for you?"

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

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

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

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

It was Reed’s turn to flinch. The sting of Jae’s words sliced at wounds too long left to fester, the scars more painful than the original cuts. What do you want from her?

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

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

"Okay."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And still there was touch.

Jae’s skin on hers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

… … …

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

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

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

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

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

"We all knew what was going on, but no one ever talked about it. Like if we didn’t talk about it - then it wasn’t really happening."

"It was an unspoken rule that we tried to protect the younger kids. It didn’t always work. Some nights it was too quiet; some nights it wasn’t quiet enough. And always we watched for the turning of the door handle." The words were stark, unadorned by embellishment and devoid of emotion.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing except to be there.

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

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

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

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

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

"Would."

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

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

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

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

A negative shake of the head was the only response.

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

"No."

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

"Jae?"

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

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

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

… FORTY…

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

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

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

But there hadn’t been a tomorrow night. Reed squeezed her eyes tight, trying to shut out the images.

It was a decision that still haunted her. Then, like now, no amount of water brought absolution from a promise she hadn’t been able to keep and another goodbye she hadn’t been able to say.

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

… … …

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

"No."

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

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

Reed made no further move to get out. The actress continued to shiver but it was the look on her face that nearly tore out Jae’s heart.

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

Reed was regarding her in shock, eyes wide.

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

"What are you doing?"

Jae looked up. "Refilling the tub."

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

"Keeping you company."

"Oh."

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

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

"Promise?"

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

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

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

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

"This."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"A little," she admitted.

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

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

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

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

"Waters buys your clothes?"

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

"I see."

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

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

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

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

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

"Ri-ight."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My note? Then Jae remembered. She read it? "I meant it."

Reed nodded and continued to munch her cereal.

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

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

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

"No more lies between us, Jae."

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

"And how would you define it?"

Jae started to answer then stopped. "No."

"No?"

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

"You want me to set the boundaries?"

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

For a second Jae thought she’d gone too far.

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

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

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

Reed looked directly at her, "We’re playing with fire, aren’t we?" The unexpected confession left Jae reeling slightly. Things weren’t all one-sided after all.

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

"Hugs are still okay, right?"

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

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

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

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

"How come you’re single?"

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

"Ah."

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

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

"Wiseacre."

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

"I meant - why are you single?"

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

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

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

"And I bet you didn’t answer either."

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

"You are so bad."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Bring your guitar?"

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

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

Jae smiled back and opened the glass door, unprepared for the glare of flashbulbs that popped from the darkness beyond the carport. "Whoa."

"Fuck."

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

"Guess movie stars are big news in Bangor."

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

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

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

… … …

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

Reed sat back against the wall, not taking her eyes from the still slumbering child. The whole night felt like a dream, and for the first time in as long as she could remember, she was afraid to wake up.

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

"I hope you found espresso."

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

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

"Go to sleep, Reed."

"I can’t."

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

Reed arched a brow.

"C’mon. You know you want to."

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

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

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

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

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

"Night Reed."

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

… FORTY-ONE…

There it was again. Jae blinked and tried to clear the bright black spot floating on her eyes. Then another. The flashes left her slightly disoriented and she paused on her way down the steps of the house they were filming in, afraid that she would fall.

It was constant, the press and media unrelenting in their pursuit of what they perceived to be some hidden truth or scandal.

"Ms. Cavanaugh, why have you suddenly switched locations?"

Jae drew on one of the stock answers provided by the studio publicist. "Not a big mystery - there’s no snow in Michigan and locations often change to match budgets - Bangor gave us a great reception. Now if you’ll excuse me." All things considered, it came out much more cordial than expected, given her current frustration level with being followed around.

Another round of flashes went off, forcing her to blink again to retain her balance and her eyesight. The handrail prevented her fall and guided her down the stairs. Too bad it can’t keep them from following. They were merciless and Jae had watched, in morbid fascination, as the smallest details of her life were revealed to America at large. Relevance wasn’t relevant. Everything from fourth grade report cards to the number of guitar strings she broke during her last set had surfaced. I’m learning things about myself that I didn’t know. Her sense of humour was all that stood between her and a scream. Edvard Munch style.

Chambers was eating it up, and as a result was no help at all dealing with the rumours, choosing instead to be enigmatic, neither confirming or denying prior knowledge of her sexuality or Reed’s peccadilloes. Jae ignored the cameraman trailing after her and headed for her car.

It was a good trade-off, her privacy for Reed’s. She just wished the media hadn’t made her love life sound so sordid. The only condition she needed to adhere to was budget - Chambers was willing to let her have the extra filming time but the fiscal rope was tight. But, in one of those weird twists, even that was working in her favour. Eastern Maine Medical Center was undergoing major renovations and had an entire wing closed. A wing they were only too happy to rent out for filming in exchange for a donation to the building fund. It was a cheaper arrangement than the one that they had had in Michigan.

Distracted, she’d missed a reporter’s query, but it didn’t really matter - it would be another question without an answer. It didn’t matter how she replied - a yes or no - either way it gave them something. She’d finally learned to just ignore those kinds of questions, though it hadn’t stopped reporters from asking them. I guess hope springs eternal. The wry grin was replaced by a genuine smile as Jae glanced hopefully for a familiar body skulking behind the rental car.

It was another off day for the actress and she didn’t really expect to see Reed until later, but she couldn’t help but look.

"Is that a yes or a no, Ms. Cavanaugh?"

The good humour vanished with the interruption. "That would be a ‘no comment’." The lone ones were the worst. In a group they served to check and balance each other - not from any social restraint, but rather to keep from being scooped. I never thought I’d miss the gaggle that trailed us last week.

"Does Ms. Lewis know about your continued association with Rebecca Devereaux? Your hotel phone records show several calls to a number listed to her."

"I said, and I quote, ‘no comment’." Jae let the slamming of the car door punctuate the sentiment. My phone records? They’re checking my phone records? This time it wasn’t flashes from cameras that left her unable to focus. Her eyes stung as she fought angry tears and maneuvered her car out of the parking lot toward the I95 and Bangor.

After parking the rental car in the small lot adjacent to a small park, Jae dug out her backpack and changed into running gear, maneuvering around the interior with practiced ease. The reporters couldn’t keep up with her when she ran, and the rough banks of the Penobscot River kept them from following any other way. Which hadn’t really been all that bad. Indulging in the late afternoon runs had given her a measure of space to think, and forced her back into a semi-regular fitness regime that made long filming hours easier on her body.

Forty-five minutes later, Jae adjusted the scrubs and tucked the sweat pants and shirt into her backpack, out of sight. She took a last look at her reflection in the glass door, pulling her ball cap low over her forehead for good measure. Close enough to shift change, I hope. EMMC didn’t seem as welcoming as usual, and for the first time since her arrival, Jae dreaded going into the hospital, afraid that today would be the day they got caught and the secret she’d spent weeks keeping would be out.

A ball of tension settled in her stomach and she could feel more tears beginning to form. Get a grip. Reed doesn’t need to have you crumbling now. I don’t need me crumbling now. A deep breath and she was through the doors and into the spacious lobby - into the congestion of patients, staff, and visitors. Baseball cap still pulled low, she crept to the back of the crowd that had spilled from the plush lobby into the front entrance and blocked any possible egress.

The knot in her middle unwound as she passed unnoticed through the throng, skipping her usual foray into the gift shop, heading for the elevator and the eighth floor.  Paediatrics was relatively quiet, a lot of the children eating or sleeping, the steady ping of machinery replaced the sometimes surprisingly boisterous laughter that often rang through the halls. At first she’d hated the sounds of respirators and heart machines, but now she found them comforting. Every ping, every beep, meant a child was alive.

The beeps from Rio’s room were steady and regular, auditory proof that he had come through his second surgery in fine shape. Jae knocked lightly on the door. "Can I come in?"

"Sure." His eyes never left the small TV mounted over his bed but he moved over slightly, making room.

She crawled onto the empty space, indulging with guilty pleasure in some down time, and suddenly the day didn’t seem so bad. The production problems faded a little as she watched the mindless antics of Pinky and the Brain. The plots in the episodes of Rugrats that followed were almost painful to watch, but she enjoyed Rio’s unabashed glee in Tommy’s revenge on Angelica.

He squirmed closer and she let him curl up against her, supporting his weight, letting her mind wander. It was an unexpected bonus, being trusted with not only Reed’s secrets but with her son. Jae ruffled his hair, the dark curls falling naturally back into place, and gave him a small hug, avoiding any outright mushiness. "I’m going to grab a soda - want a Popsicle?" She was pretty sure he could have one of those.

"Lime?"

"You got it." It took a few minutes to find a nurse and double check that Rio was allowed the frozen treat, and a few more to locate a lime Popsicle.

When Jae got back, voices were emanating from the room, and she speeded up, sensing that something wasn’t right.

"She’s a friend of my mum’s."

"Oh, and who is your mother?"

The question was asked casually and Rio started to answer. "Get out." Jae didn’t know or care who the man was. The camera was enough to signal bad news.

Bright light exploded in the room as the flash went off and another picture was taken. Jae didn’t stop to think about it, just reached for the camera. A fist connected with the side of her head and she heard the man wince in pain, his knuckles less solid than her skull.

Jae heard the soft crunch before she felt the nasal bone give under her fist. The reporter crumpled to the floor, one hand over his nose, the other supporting his weight. Still on autopilot, she opened the back of the camera and pulled on the film, throwing it at the reporter.

"You bitch." Blood stained the front of his vest, matting against the yellow fleece.

"We’ll see how an assault charge plays." Husky tones purred quietly from just inside the room.

Jae turned to face the newcomer, and the sudden shocking realization of just how serious a mistake she’d made hit her hard. The woman was dangling a camera from a broad black strap, its lens unshuttered, a cocky smile twisting her features in an expression of triumph, a small cell phone held loosely in her other hand.

"Jae?" Rio asked, fear and confusion on his guileless face.

"It’s okay, sweetheart. Can you press your buzzer for me?" If the nurse came, then security would follow and she could get the press out of here and buy some time.

"Good idea. After all, can’t have a story without plot points. And what a story it is too. Ms. Goody Two Shoes loses it. And I can’t wait to make the acquaintance of this young man’s mother."

Jae wanted to wipe the smarmy look off the woman’s face, close to deciding that if she were going to hang - it might as well be for stealing the whole flock instead of just a lamb.

"Did you beat up on Rebecca Deveraux too? That’s quite a temper you have there."

She was being goaded, the sole intent to force her to react. Jae knew it, and it still didn’t stop her from responding to the taunts. "No. I never hit her." Only realizing after the words were out, that she had provided the first official confirmation of her relationship with Becky. It was coming unraveled, the long weeks of carefully weaving lies and truth ended with a punch. Of all the times to lose my cool.

Jae put herself between Rio and the unwanted company, willing them not to see the obvious. Reed’s gonna freak.

The shift nurse appeared in the doorway. "What can I...oh." She had enough presence of mind to yell for security. "You’ll have to leave."

"Sure. We have what we came for." The reporter helped her colleague to his feet. Yellow vest’s nose was no longer spilling fresh blood, the crimson stain already coagulating, and a slightly cupric smell hung in the air.

"And what was that?" Reed spoke from the doorway. There was no mistaking the icy anger behind the question.

It was fascinating to watch. Reed seemed to grow even taller and would have dwarfed the reporter with sheer presence alone -even if she hadn’t had several inches on the woman. Without bringing their bodies into contact, the actress somehow maneuvered the reporters out of the room.

Vintage Reed, Jae thought, realizing she was being treated to a performance by one of the best actresses in Hollywood. A small thump rattled the small pane of glass in the wooden door, and dark material blotted out the light from the hall. Or maybe it wasn’t. One thing was for sure, Jae was glad that she wasn’t in the hallway.

… … …

"Give me the film." Reed allowed a feral grin to play over her lips, keeping any hint of warmth out of her eyes. Sometimes it was an advantage to have pale eyes.

"Reality check,  Babe. This is not a movie. And if you think I’m just handing over a $200,000 chunk of film, you’re nuts." Reed’s shock must have registered with the reporter, because the woman leaned forward, moving to the offensive, almost purring. "Translation: don’t fuck with my boss."

Reed shoved the woman back against the door, rattling the window. Only the presence of her son on the other side kept her from repeating the move. "Don’t fuck with me."

"Ah, ah, ah." The admonishment was accompanied by a cockily wagged index finger. "You don’t want to join your girlfriend in jail, now do you? Felonious assault isn’t exactly CV material." The reporter paused and smiled. "Come to think of it, they might let you room together."

"Judging by your buddy’s knuckles, I’m guessing the bastard deserved what he got." The cameraman had been taken to a side room by one of the nurses, though there was still no sign of security. She moved inside the other woman’s personal space, using her size to her advantage. "And this is private property - with clearly posted signs about unauthorized visitors, so at the very least you’ll be joining us." The quick flinch and clouding of the otherwise cocky smile told Reed she’d scored a hit, so she continued to press the advantage. "Translation: your boss won’t do your time for you."

There was some fire left in the reporter, because she moved forward, and Reed took a step back, retreating slightly in response.

"You can’t hide the truth forever, Ms. Lewis. And I intend to get what my boss paid for." The smile that accompanied the words was without any humour, more warning than anything.

It clicked into place. These people were from ‘Up Close’. Apparently the tabloid had been less than pleased about the maneuvering they had done around the interview, and they were determined to get the full details this time.

"So who’s the kid? He’s cute."

Security chose that instant to arrive, forestalling what would likely have been a very loud and very physical response on her part. As it was, it was still a near thing, and Reed let her hand drop to her side, harmlessly, clenching and unclenching the fist in order to bleed off some of her anger.

She didn’t even have to deal with it. The nurse who had intervened originally materialized and quietly directed the security staff. It made Reed wonder where the staff had been in the first place, something she would pursue later - with the hospital administrator if necessary. Right now she just wanted to see her son.

The reporter didn’t speak as she and her co-worker were escorted out of the hospital. Instead she met Reed’s eyes as the elevator doors slid open and tapped her watch, message clear.

It was only a matter of time.

Reed took a deep breath and opened the door, feeling its weight as she pushed it aside. Jae had curled up on the bed and was holding Rio, smoothing his hair as she rocked him gently. She took a minute to study the two of them. In a way she found it almost unbelievable that the director continued to generate such interest from the tabloids. But then it had been a relatively slow news year in Hollywood. Jae had tried to laugh it off, but Reed could tell that it had been getting to her friend lately, the constant scrutiny wearing on a woman who never looked for hidden agendas in other people and so couldn’t quite fathom others looking for them in her. If what the reporter in the hall had said was true, it was the first time she could remember Jae having lost control of what sometimes seemed like a supernatural calm.

Watching, unnoticed, she could see that Jae was anything but calm now.  Tears were visible on the blonde’s face and it was obvious that she was only keeping herself together for the sake of the sleeping child in her arms. I can’t protect either of them.

And I can’t chose.

Can’t you? Act. Don’t react. The beginnings of a headache accompanied the harsh words of her inner voice.

Remnants of the anger from the hallway coloured her internal reply with a sarcasm she rarely turned inward. Right, and the truth shall set you free?

Yes.

If he had to find out at all about his father, this was most definitely not the way she wanted it to happen. And it would come out, Reed realized. They wouldn’t let it go until they knew everything. And what they couldn’t find out they would make up. It was only sheer luck that had kept them from figuring out that they were at the hospital to do more than film scenes.

Jae swung in her direction, and Reed read the apology without Jae needing to speak.  There was fear written there as well, and instinctively she crossed the small room to wrap her arms around the director, wanting to soothe the hurt. "It’s okay."

"You’re not mad?" The words were hesitant, barely spoken.

Her stomach clenched as Reed realized she was responsible for the fear clouding the normally confident and bright eyes. "Not at you." What hurt more was the awareness that Jae’s fear wasn’t misplaced; her past behaviour more than justified Jae’s reaction. Reed traced the soft hair under her hand, pausing as she encountered slight swelling just behind a delicate ear. "So it was self-defense."

"Not exactly. But I did get the film." The bit of plastic in question still lay crumpled on the floor where it had been dropped. "I’m sorry."

Reed turned to look directly at her friend. "No. I’m the one who’s sorry. You don’t deserve this."

"Neither do you."

But that wasn’t really true. They were her mistakes and maybe if she had taken more responsibility for them sooner, Jae wouldn’t be sporting a lump on the side of her head, or facing a possible assault charge. I guess we’ll see if the truth is enough to at least set you free, cause it sure as hell ain’t going to do me much good. She wrapped her hand around one of Jae’s smaller ones. "Call your friend Thom. Tell him everything."

"Reed!"

She laid a finger across Jae’s lips, gently but firmly cutting off the protest. "It’s time." As she said it, Reed realized it was true. Roan was dead, no longer any threat, and by barricading herself behind a wall of silence she was giving him even more power than he deserved. And maybe, just maybe, it would buy them more peace than hiding had.

"Why me?"

"Because I need to tell Riordan."

"Oh."

"Please?"

The assent was given by a thoughtful nod as Rio began to stir, the movement and conversation drawing him out of the light slumber.

"Hey kiddo. Hungry?"

Dark curls bounced from side to side as he shook his head. "I had a Popsicle."

Reed raised a brow, pinning Jae with a mock serious glare. "And your mother accused me of not knowing what to feed kids."

Jae laughed, shaking off the somber air that had invaded the room. "Don’t blame me - the nurse okayed it."

She laughed along for a minute, then sobered, the enormity of the task ahead slamming the humour out of the situation, replacing it with solid fear. Her hand was squeezed in silent support, and she mustered a wan smile as Jae disentangled herself and stood.

"I’ll be at my hotel."

"Thank you." The words came out much more formally than intended, but still not adequate to express what she meant.

The warm look and smile she received in reply calmed some of the trepidation, and Jae whispered, "Always."

… … …

Reed fiddled with the blanket, then leaned down to place a featherlight kiss on the sleeping child’s forehead. He’d been tired and she wasn’t sure that he fully understood what she had been trying to tell him. Any clarification had been forestalled by Heidi’s unexpected arrival and abrupt departure and Rio had fallen asleep during her futile effort to catch her friend.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself." Reed turned to face Geoff, who was leaning against the doorframe, carryout tray, complete with steaming coffee, in hand. "I see you came armed. She still mad?" Heidi had left the room without speaking a single word.

"Ayup. Pissed."

"I’m not going to take him away from you."

"I know. I think she knows that. But it’s hard for her."

She thought about that. All of the childcare decisions had been made jointly, the three of them sharing the parenting. For all intents and purposes he had been their son too, the community at large accepting him as such, and treating him accordingly. That had just been pre-empted.

Reed took a cautious sip of the hot coffee, the sweet caramel flavour a pleasant surprise, and mulled over the situation.

"It was time, Geoff. I couldn’t hide him forever."

"Ayup. Long past time, I’m thinking. But you should have given her some time to adjust to things."

"Where is she?"

"She went for a walk."

Oh-oh. This is serious, not just a mad-on over an interview. Heidi never exercised, at least voluntarily. Reed leaned down and gave Rio a final goodnight kiss, then hugged Geoff quickly and left in search of his wife, whom she speedily found sucking air on the hotel steps.

… … …

Heidi took another gulp of the night air, desperate to get some oxygen into her starved lungs. Her legs burned and she was pretty sure that any second now she was going to pass out. Walking hadn’t done anything to ease the anger - if anything she was even angrier with Reed.

The door behind her swung open, and she moved to let whomever it was past. Instead, it was Reed, who joined her on the concrete steps of the hotel, having most likely come through the hospital.

"Geoff send you?"

Reed hunched forward and tucked her hands together, right thumb rubbing at the webbing of her other hand. "No. Look, I’m sorry."

"I don’t even know why you’re bothering to talk to me about it at all - you just went ahead and did what you wanted." Heidi spat the words.

"It just happened."

"Protecting your new little friend was more important than respecting the ones you already have."

"What in the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You figure it out." She let the words trail off, the hurt in Reed’s eyes giving her pause.

"I’m not taking him away from you. It wouldn’t be fair to any of us, least of all Riordan."

Heidi wondered if Reed had sidestepped her meaning on purpose - or if the actress really didn’t see what everyone else was beginning to. "I still don’t understand why you had to tell them" In a strange way though, Heidi did understand. It was Reed through and through. Impetuous to a fault, her friend did nothing half way.

Reed met her eyes, voice low and earnest. "Because my secrets were hurting someone who didn’t deserve it. But it doesn’t change anything."

She looked down, breaking eye contact with the actress. "Things are changing, Reed. You’re changing." Her whole world was changing. She knew it was petty, but she wanted things to stay the way they were. Her and Geoff, Reed and Rio, a family, finally able to live without fear.

It was terribly ironic, even she could see that. Heidi knew Reed had been afraid that she would be cast aside if Rio were no longer part of the picture, valueless without her son. Now she was the one afraid - a healthy Rio meant change would come anyway. Reed would no longer need to work so hard, or so far away from home, and she and Geoff would no longer have a place in their lives.

They hadn’t been able to have children. Procrastination and tiny cysts had robbed her of a dream she hadn’t realized she wanted until it was no longer possible. Then one day Reed had knocked on the door of the cozy farmhouse, and in the months that followed the four of them had forged a family.

Heidi looked over, wondering what was going on behind the deceptively stoic façade.

Reed was still, her eyes fixed on the darkened waters of the river that bounded the hospital and hotel. Slowly the actress turned so they were facing, then spoke. "You too?" She sounded hurt. "Go ahead - get it over with - ask, everyone else has."

Heidi didn’t want to ask. She wanted Reed to tell her. "I don’t need to." Why ask a question you already knew the answer to? She’d seen them, that first morning. Arriving early after receiving Reed’s message that Rio had woken briefly, she’d rushed into the hospital room. No, the sight of Reed curled up in the blonde’s lap, while one of the director’s hands stroked the longer hair of the actress, had been all the answer she needed, even if the two of them were unaware of what they projected. And maybe it was about the family growing - not shrinking - because it was clear to Heidi that Reed considered Jae family.

"C’mon, I’ll buy you some orange juice." Reed stood, still favouring her leg slightly. The abrupt change of subject signaled the closing of the brief window into deeper emotional territory.

"Orange juice? After that torture session, I was hoping for a milkshake. Of the chocolate variety." Heidi stood too, her back screaming in agony, a pointed reminder of why running was her least favorite recreational activity imaginable.

"Deal."

"You think Jae would like to join us?" Heidi asked. It would take some getting used to, but she was willing to try. Especially since the mere mention of the director’s name had caused Reed to light up like a Christmas tree. And that, in spite of everything else, was too rare a thing not to be encouraged.

"I think if you mention the words chocolate and ice cream in the same sentence you’d have to hold her back." Reed shook her head in mock distaste as she carefully enunciated every syllable of the word chocolate.

Heidi grinned back, unable to think of a suitably snappy comeback. Maybe it will be easier than I thought. After all, how horrible could someone who liked chocolate be?

… FORTY TWO…

Reed leaned close to Jae. "Remind me again why I’m here."

Heidi honestly couldn’t remember how she’d roped Reed and Jae into attending a wedding for someone they barely knew.

"You? That should be my line. I have no idea who these people are," Jae whispered back.

"Point." Reed agreed, amiably.

"You’re here because it’s a family wedding and you’re family." Heidi whispered back.

A woman in front of them turned and glared. Heidi poked Reed in the ribs, and she stopped speaking, rubbing the spot with exaggerated indignation.

Jae grinned, scrunching her nose. They all exchanged conspiratorial winks, then Heidi returned her attention to the ceremony. Occasionally, she turned her eyes on the other guests.

Most of her family was here. Assorted aunt’s, uncles, cousins, even a few relatives once or twice removed. The pews across the aisle held people, who would, at the end of the wedding ceremony, be family too.

Surreptitiously she looked again at Reed.

They’d met when Rowena Lewis had taken a teaching position at the University of Maine. Reed’s mother had needed to split her time between Calais and the research facility in St. Andrews, on the Canadian side. Heidi’s mother had provided childcare.

She’d been ten, a year older, but still a full two inches shorter, than nine year old Reed Lewis. They were friends instantly, and even changes in interests and differing sets of friends hadn’t changed it.

Only the fire that killed Reed’s mother and grandmother had separated them.

"It’s my fault." If she lived to be a hundred, Heidi knew she’d never forget those words. Even at sixteen, she had been able to recognize the depth of anguish they held.

"It’s my fault."

She hadn’t known what to say. "No. It wasn’t."

Reed had lifted her head. "I wasn’t home to warn them." Her eyes immediately fell to the white dressings covering both hands. "I was supposed to be…home," her voice broke on the last word.

Then Heidi had understood. Reed had snuck out to go to the State Fair after all.

She wiped away a tear, pretending the ceremony was the cause, and wondered if Reed had ever forgiven herself for sneaking out, for not being home to die with her family.

Heidi didn’t think so.

But somehow, whether Reed realized it or not, she had built a new one; and now that family was growing.

Everything was changing. Reed being gay, she could handle, but Heidi didn’t know how she would cope with losing Rio. Her family was shrinking. Convulsively, she grabbed Geoff’s hand and squeezed it tightly, needing to feel him next to her.

They’d be childless again.

She’d known the day would come when Reed would either meet someone, or would no longer need to work, and Reed had said all the right things the other night at the hospital, but still, in her heart, she knew things would never be the same. You had only to look at the two of them to know that. Jae was here to stay.

Another tear slipped down her cheek.

After all, you were allowed to cry at weddings.

… … …

Reed looked around, discovering the ceremony had ended. Chagrined, she stood and sidled out of the wooden pew, then waited for the others to join her. Together they made their way outside the church to await the emergence of the newlyweds, and the progression to the reception hall.

Space opened up in front of them, and they entered the large stone church hall. Long tables lined the back wall, proudly displaying the myriad packages, boxes, bags and bright bows of the gifts deposited there before the ceremony.

Circular tables filled the majority of the hall, balloons, streamers and a dance floor taking up the remainder. Ornate, hand-lettered name cards rested on the fine china plates, the flowing calligraphy an elegant complement to the place settings.

"Here’s ours." Geoff pointed at a spot on the neatly lettered seating diagram, then indicated a table on the far side of the room.

"Aren’t you the perfect gentleman?" Heidi remarked.

It took Reed a second to figure out what Heidi was talking about, and she looked down to where her hand still rested on the back of Jae’s chair. The ringing of cutlery against crystal saved her from needing to reply, and she quickly seated herself.

Dinner followed the preliminary speeches, and the traditional roasting of the groom followed the prime rib. Music followed the last of the speeches, and the room became even more festive as the children disappeared and the alcohol began to flow more freely.

Well lubricated herself, Reed watched Geoff drag Heidi onto the dance floor, laughing as he spun his wife around with flare.

Off to one side, a group of young men were casting intermittent looks in their direction. Even augmented by occasional physical pokes and prodding encouragement, they hadn’t had quite enough alcohol to give them sufficient courage to make an approach.

"I’d love to hear that conversation." Jae snagged her glass from the table, rotating it slowly in her hands.

"No. That’s the one I’d pay to have heard." She indicated the corner where the bride and groom had been talking, and the fact that Heidi’s cousin was now making her way slowly toward them.

"As long as she doesn’t ask me where my husband is or when I’m getting married, I’ll be happy."

Reed laughed. Poor Jae’s dinner conversation had consisted largely of fending off questions from the only two people in the room who didn’t know she was gay.

"Umm. Hi."

"Hello."

"I, ah, that is we, umm wanted to, we wanted to thank you for coming. To the wedding." She looked back over her shoulder, and Reed was amused to see the look of adoring encouragement her husband bestowed on her. "We, well there’s dancing you see, and well, you’re not, and umm we wanted to say you could. Dance, I mean. Here. Together. Thanksagainforcoming Thankyouforthegift. Bye." She turned and fled.

Stunned, Reed looked over at an equally stunned director and they both started laughing at the same time. Every time they looked at each other the paroxysms started again, and in order to stop they had to avoid each other’s eyes.

"People are staring."

The stage whisper carried across the table and Reed smirked. "And that would be new, how exactly?" Which started Jae laughing all over again.

"I needed that. But I think we hurt their feelings."

"In that case, maybe we had better dance." Something fast and boppy was playing; the artist she recognized, but the title escaped her.

"Then shall we?" Jae bowed and held out a hand.

They made their way to the floor and joined the throng, who paused briefly to watch before once more picking up the rhythm. Heidi and Geoff moved to join them before being shanghaied by another group of relatives. The newlyweds took to the floor and Reed unexpectedly found herself dancing with the bride while Jae laughed.

There was another shift in tempo and partners, the director whisked away in a flurry of dance steps. As the pattern shifted, Reed caught a glimpse of red topped by a broad smile before someone claimed her as a partner and she lost track of Jae.

Once again the music changed, the seagoing history of the state, and the ancestry of its people, filling the room. Lines formed and she instinctively took her place in the reel. She stepped forward, timing her pace to bring her level with her partner in the center of the floor as they took the first turn before switching off and re-partnering.

Faster and faster the dancers whirled in response to the music, then suddenly it was over and slow piano notes replaced the frantic fiddle.

"I love this song. Dance with me?"

Reed turned to find Jae standing in a pool of light, the sheer fabric of her red dress shining under the soft glow. Before she could decide, a man stepped between them and answered, "It would be my pleasure."

Over his shoulder Jae’s eyes were locked on hers and the director gave her an apologetic grin. Suddenly feeling conspicuous, Reed left the floor and headed for the bathroom, craving privacy.

Reed was facing the mirror, but not looking in it, eyes focused instead on her hands, which rested on the counter.

But the same eyes looked back at her when she finally did raise her head.

Now she was looking at Jae, their eyes meeting in the plane of the mirror. Reed turned and leaned against the counter, its marble surface cold through the fabric of her dress.

"You okay?" Concern clouded Jae’s face and she had moved to stand close, one hand on the counter while the other brushed a wisp of hair away from Reed’s cheek.

It crystalized in that instant. She’d felt it form in a split second on the dance floor, but it had escaped unnamed. I’m going to kiss her. If she doesn’t move, I’m going to kiss her.

Jae didn’t move and neither did she. I’m going to kiss her. The door could open at any second and she didn’t give a damn. I’m going to kiss her.

Still there was no movement, and Reed tried to figure out what had just been said. But her focus had been on the motion of her friend’s lips, not on the words, and she had no idea what the topic was. Her heart was pounding so hard it would have drowned out any sounds, had she been paying attention.

Jae stepped back and the opportunity passed.

A multi-purpose answer came to her lips. "Okay." Her voice cracked before the word was complete.

"Are you sure you’re okay?"

"I’m fine. Never better." She’d guessed right.

"Any room left on your dance card?"

"Yes." Normal banter was beyond her limits just now, but it seemed to pass unnoticed.

The smile she received seemed brighter than before, the eyes warmer, and Reed followed Jae out onto the floor. She couldn’t hear the music, everything distant and unreal in the wake of what had almost happened.

If they were being watched, she wasn’t cognizant of it. She was aware of the scent of vanilla and the smooth texture of Jae’s dress. Reed let her hand rest in the hollow at the small of her partner’s back. It felt different. The heat was different, the familiar curves of Jae’s body alien and new. It had all changed.

The rest of the evening passed in a pleasant haze, reality only setting in with the bracingly cold fall air she had to walk through as they arrived back at the Riverside Hotel after dropping Jae at her hotel.

Mind in hyperdrive, she flopped onto the bed, dress discarded in a heap on the floor. Overhead, the ceiling fan turned with precision, navigating a predictable orbit about the central axis. She knew that, yet from where she lay watching the slow revolutions, it appeared off kilter, the path elliptical and uneven.

The moment from the bathroom played itself over and over again. She didn’t need to close her eyes to be able to feel the sudden certainty. The shock still reverberated through her mind and body. Nervous tension left her unable to sleep, and she sat up in the bed.

It was the role. Had to be. Had to be the long nights of filming combined with prolonged rehearsing with Jae during the day at the hospital. Had to be the constant proximity to the director. Had to be.

Yeah that was it all right. Proximity.

But there had been no confusion, no alcoholic haze. She’d known whom she was seeing, known who she was.

Reed hated the empty hotel room like she hadn’t in the two and a half weeks that she’d been in it alone. The publicist had put them in separate hotels, which really hadn’t been a problem until now. Oh right. Like this is something I can talk to Jae about.

Heidi was out too. The vet was having her own problems with the change in their lives.. At first, she just hadn’t had time to worry about it. There was Rio’s second surgery, then a return to limited shooting before resuming a nearly full work schedule. By then it had become apparent that no one really cared about the truth and that when it came down to it, the world at large didn’t care either. What drove publicity was the speculation. They didn’t want to know - most of them had made their minds up anyway - they wanted to gossip.

Not that it wasn’t awkward to have photographers jumping out at them now and again, hoping for some evidence to answer the most asked question in Hollywood these days: ‘Were they or weren’t they?’ But that’s what publicists were for, and Cait had hired a good one.

Reed smiled to herself. At some point they had begun to tease the press, first by accident, then more deliberately. It was, she reflected, interesting to have a relationship with the media that wasn’t antagonistic. Interesting? It’s fun to tease them - admit it.

It was fun. The LA Times article had changed her relationship to with the press, and even the assault charge had worked in their favour. The court of public opinion had little sympathy for the fourth estate when it came to ambushing children.

Work was fun again, the way it had been when she’d first started, back before it had become a means to an end. Riordan was over the worst, his three-week hospital convalescence was nearing its end, his release expected Monday.

It was one thing when the gossip was groundless, but now.

Now it’s still groundless.

I have choices. I don’t have to do anything.

Except.

Except, I’m in love with my best friend.

Put that way, she could deal with it. But the second she allowed free range to the implications, it became too much. Because it wasn’t simply her best friend she was in love with. It was Jae. Even thinking in those terms as a simple name devoid of gender, it still made sense. But taken one step further, then - then it became impossible.

Impossible.

Obviously not.

Across the room a small cardboard box rested on the desk. It seemed she once more had fans. A lot of the fan mail came via the internet, but there was still a sizable stack of more traditional handwritten letters - most of which she hadn’t opened yet, preferring the sterile ease of electronic mail to handwriting. Not Jae. The director had reveled in the unexpected letters, some bizarre sense of history satisfied by scratching words on paper.

So what are you going to do about this?

Nothing.

Reed picked a random letter out of the box and unfolded it, curious to see how Jae had responded on her behalf. Bold, distinctive strokes splashed across stationary that was just as distinctive. The director was unlike anyone she had ever known, male or female. Jae had stood by her in ways that she still had trouble understanding. And tonight it had all changed.

No. That wasn’t quite right. The changes had been gradual. She’d felt them before, odd twinges she’d shoved away under a burden of guilt and fear. It was the realization that had been sudden, almost paralyzing, leaving her unable to lie to herself anymore, no matter how badly she wanted to.

Reed turned her attention from the box to the bottle resting next to it on the table and wrenched the top from the brandy, splashing a healthy dollop into one of the glass tumblers flanking the spirit. The warm alcohol burned her mouth slightly as it washed over her tongue.

Wryly she looked at the glass, recognizing the coping mechanism. But in this case the cure was worse than the disease - though not by much. The amber liquid reflected the light from the corner lamp. The beveled pattern on the tumbler served to disperse the glow and she swirled the brandy around watching it move. It occurred to her that the treatment for both was the same and she deliberately put the brandy down, aware that she could stop drinking far easier than she could stop what was happening between her and Jae.

… … …

The strings were stretched beyond the point they would hold a tuning, but Jae continued to play, the confusion of her thoughts finding order in the progression of chords that her fingers were drawing from the guitar.

Every time she thought she’d won the battle between her body’s desires and those of her heart, something else happened to throw things back into chaos. Like tonight. Absently she fiddled with the tuning pegs, tightening the D-string before resignedly laying it aside.

Maybe the key wasn’t to not be attracted to Reed - like I have any choice there - but rather it was about accepting that as a facet of the friendship - not as barrier to it. It had been refreshingly nice to have physical intimacy with someone that wasn’t predicated on having sex, and if occasionally her body reminded her of other needs then she would just have to deal and move on.

Like tonight.

She traced the outline of one of her breasts through the cotton nightshirt she’d changed into, aware of how sensitive it was, partially a physical reaction to Reed, and the remembered physical contact, and partially a natural reaction to where her body was in its cycle.

It wouldn’t take much, and maybe it would help her sleep - or at least ensure her dreams were pleasant ones. The monthly changes in her body fascinated her, the almost imperceptible swelling and weight increase that meant a larger cup size - at least for a few days. Shirt unbuttoned, she traced the swells, enjoying the resulting shivers.

The caresses were less about achieving orgasm than about comfort and fascinated exploration, and she continued to let her hands play over her body, even as she let her mind wander over the evening’s events.

I wouldn’t trade it.

She dipped into the growing wetness, drawing idle circles along the outer edges, turning the unexpected thought over, surprised by the certainty washing through her.

It was true.

What she had with Reed was something she wouldn’t trade - the emotional intimacy they had achieved infinitely more satisfying than any other relationship had ever been.

Friendship, it seemed, was worth more than sex after all.

Her body agreed with the assessment, a slight spasm sending tendrils of lazy warmth over her, speeding the descent into sleep.

… FORTY THREE…

The clock above the nurse’s station told Reed that it was even later than she’d thought. Her interview had run overtime, some of the questions had been thought provoking, and for the most part she’d enjoyed the experience. New England, in its typical fashion had forgotten the parts of the story that ran counter to their puritan sensibilities and instead seized on the Disney aspects of the situation.

She’d barely made it to the restaurant in time to pick up the cake they’d ordered to celebrate Rio’s impending discharge. "Have ice cream cake - will travel." One nice thing about Maine in October - it was cold enough to keep frozen food frozen.

"Sorry I’m late." Absently, Reed dumped her jacket over the chair by the door.

An unfamiliar man was sitting in a chair, his back toward the door. Rio was playing with a video camera while Heidi and Geoff hammed it up and Jae supervised.

"Mum!" The camera was forgotten as the cake was spotted.

"Hey kiddo."

"Ms. Lewis."

Reed straightened and turned at the salutation, freezing as she recognized the speaker.

"Look what Mr. Josiah brought. Meccano!" Rio held up a bright green plastic box, the metallic components of the building toy rattled against each other as he displayed his prize proudly.

Somehow she mustered a smile for her son. "Did you remember to say thank-you?" Completely of their own accord, her eyes fixed on the slightly threadbare form of Josiah Bennett. The world could have exploded in that instant and she wouldn’t have noticed, every fibre and shred of control she had was focused on trying to remain in the here and now.

Her heart was pounding against her ribcage, and Reed didn’t feel like she could breathe. Something was being held out in her direction - a small packet covered with subdued paper, bound with a ribbon - mechanically she accepted it, still fighting the rising feeling of panic. "Thank-you."

It was dark and light all at once, and every breath had to be fought for. Echoes long subdued ran free around her head and an eerie silence seemed to pad her from the sounds in the room. Reality was no longer what she could see and hear - it had become a mix of the moment and memory.

"I just wanted to say thank-you." Pale eyes peeked from bruised lids, evidence of the beating he had received still present. His skin was pale, the blanching due more to age and weariness than lack of sunlight.

"You’re welcome." The words were coming out stilted, her thoughts refusing to order themselves.

Bennett looked between them and smiled weakly, before beginning to rise from the chair. "You take care of your mother, young man. Glad to see you’re well." As he leaned forward to stand, his body hung briefly over the rumpled bed, dwarfing Rio.

Without warning the world rushed away, the people in the room becoming small and distant. Outside, in the twilight, an ambulance siren grew louder, completing the ancient image that had replaced reality.

Her face felt wet, but she didn’t think she was crying. It couldn’t be. Not here, not now. This is the hospital, not the orphanage. And this is not Father Paul.

"Reed?"

Eyes unfocused, she turned in the direction Jae’s voice had come from. An arm was draped across her shoulder and she flinched from the unexpected contact, before recognizing the director.

A cold cloth was pressed against her face and Reed realized her nose was bleeding. Slowly, things normalized and she was able to breathe again. Steadier, she forced polite words to come, desperate to cover her lapse. "Stay. There’s plenty of cake, Mr. Bennett."

Reed had no idea what flavour the cake was, every cell in her brain split between trying to figure out what was going on, and the need to keep anyone else from figuring it out first. People were laughing, and there was a parade of doctors and nurses out of the small room, each saying their good-byes before Rio was discharged in the morning to finish his long convalescence at home.

It could have been a Bergman film, missing only a dove perched in a corner. It had the same surreal quality, and Reed was sure that she was on the verge of some shattering epiphany, if only things would slow down enough to let her catch up. It was there - a palpable lump in her chest, tangible in the nervous fluttering of her stomach and the bright red blood that intermittently trickled from her nose.

All she had to do was hang on long enough to get to her hotel room. Rio laughed and Reed turned to see him triumphantly adjust a final bolt on what looked to be a damned good replica of a pod racer from the new Star Wars movie.

The chime that marked the end of official visiting hours beeped and the party broke up, Josiah once more rising to leave. Nervously she accompanied him to the door, not quite able to bring herself to meet his eyes. The old man turned awkwardly, stumbling as the motion brought them face to face in the hall and out of earshot of the others. "You didn’t know before, did you?"

She hadn’t - not until after she’d helped him. Not until the angry words and blows had filled the hall. "No." Reed examined that, realizing that she would have helped him anyway, that more than the need for a diversion had sparked her into action.

"And now that’s all you see. You don’t even know me, and you hate me."

"I don’t hate you." Reed was sure of that much. She knew what hate felt like and this wasn’t it. "I hate me." There it was, profound in its simple truth.

"Hate is the one emotion that is truly wasted, Ms. Lewis."

By the time she figured out what to say next, he was gone, presumably swallowed by the elevator.

"Hey." Jae’s soft voice broke the solitude.

Reed blinked, gathering her wits. "Hey."

"Heidi and Geoff are going to tuck him in and stay for a bit. You look like you could use some fresh air."

The offer was clear, but Reed shook her head no. Whatever was going on, Jae was a huge part of it, and she needed to think without the younger woman’s distracting presence. "Rain check?"

Jae looked like she wanted to say something, but instead dug into one of the huge pockets on her tan cargo pants, pulling out a small pad of paper. A pen was whipped from its resting-place on the V-neck of the director’s blue sweater. With precise strokes, words were placed on the sheet, which was then ripped from the pad. "One rain check. No expiration date."

Carefully Reed tucked the folded note into her front pocket. "Thanks." Jae seemed to know when to push and when to back off, though she had to admit, she didn’t always initially agree with the director in the heat of the moment. She waved, then set off for the stairs, and one of the back exits that would dump her outside next to the river.

Hands shoved deep in her pockets, she played with the edges of the note and finally pulled it out, curiousity over coming her.

Smiling, she tucked it safely away for later.

Hours later she was no closer to sorting out the mess. Half a life spent burying her feelings had left her ill prepared for the kind of introspection she was being forced into now. It used to be easy. She’d decided on a cold November morning who and what she hated and simply gone on from there. But her safe haven of hatred had collapsed, real people making it impossible to maintain the broad anger. Jae, Holly and now Josiah had stepped out of the convenient mold, turning her worldview on its ear.

The time for hiding from the truth was over, and what had happened - or almost happened, at the wedding - made continued inaction impossible. Question is - are you big enough to do something about it?

"Alright. Let’s think this through." Absently she swallowed another mouthful of ice cream, unconscious of the smile that flitted over her features as the vanilla flavour of Jae’s gift exploded over her taste buds despite of her philosophical preoccupation.

Chasing the first spoonful with still another, she continued to talk to herself, meeting her reflection’s eyes steadily. "Is Jae a pervert? A little weird about some stuff - but no - put her down in the non-whack job category. Holly? Dangerous, but not a pervert." The screenwriter projected a benign image to the world at large. But she had a dangerous sense of humour along with razor sharp intelligence - questionable taste in breakfast foods, but definitely someone she had time for.

Would she have time for me? That was an unexplored option. For the first time she had choices - more than one friend. At least she thought they were friends. Well, the damn woman had her phone number and address plastered across the web, so a phone call might not be totally out of line.

Right and what the hell are you going to say? "Yo, Holly. I think I might have more than platonic feelings for my boss." Not the sort of thing she could say out loud, that was for sure.

And that begged the obvious question.

The reflection continued to stare back, familiar features taking on an almost alien cast as she studied the angular planes and high cheekbones, trying to fathom her doppelganger’s thoughts, even as she tried to reconcile the woman she saw with the woman she was.

And who is that?

I don’t know anymore.

Don’t you?

Somewhere Reed summoned up the courage to meet her own eyes and asked the only question that really mattered. Answering it proved a great deal more difficult.

One question, so many confusing possibilities. It didn’t matter if Jae or Holly or if Santa Claus himself was a pervert. It only matters if I am. But that wasn’t really the crux of the issue. Her growing feelings for Jae and what they portended were. And even then, the feelings weren’t the whole issue either. What she felt for Heidi was love, so the emotional aspect wasn’t entirely foreign, and while the hugs, and occasional physical contact, were comforting, she didn’t crave Heidi’s touch the way she did Jae’s. Hadn’t craved anyone’s touch that way.

No longer focused on her own image, she instead focused on the real question, her eyes locking on some invisible point that intersected nothingness and her own internal struggle.

Reed stared into nothingness for a long time, weighing what she wanted against the probable consequences. But then everything had consequences - action and inaction alike That was a lesson she’d learned the hard way. It was late, but Reed knew what she had to do, knew that maybe there was someone she could talk to afterall.

The house wasn’t hard to find, though it was virtually identical to the ones on either side, and she walked up the cedar chip path. Lobster traps leaned decorously against one another, the mesh supporting a tangle of plant growth. Faded orange buoys completed the stereotypical postcard Maine house landscaping, and she couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony.

A soft glow came from the bay window and Reed peered inside, last minute hesitation stopping her hand before she could knock. Her eyes registered the scene as her body carried her forward through the door. It banged off the interior wall, causing the room’s occupant to jump.

"Don’t, please."

Josiah sat neatly dressed in an overstuffed chair, a clean suit laid out on the chair to the left of the long couch that bordered the window, a revolver on the table in front of him, inches from his left hand.

"It’s time, Reed." But his hand moved away from the dull black Browning.

It was then that she noticed the gilt frame off to the right of the gun. The picture wasn’t visible from where she stood, but instinct told her that it was the Crosby half of the ‘Bennett and Crosby’ painted on the mailbox.  She didn’t know what to do or say. Reed gestured at a chessboard. "You play?"

"Chess was Holden’s passion. He brought a set back from every place he’d ever been. I carved this set for his birthday. Do you play?"

"A little." Reed reached out a hand and moved a pawn to king four.

Josiah looked at her a minute and moved his own knight in response. "You’d best have a seat. These things tend to take a while."

Moves were exchanged, and somehow in between planning her strategy and trying to decipher his, she spilled the whole story. Spoke for the first time of seeing Will’s sheet-shrouded body wheeled out of the dormitory. She wasn’t entirely sure why, but she told him about Jae too.

"Check." Josiah moved his queen, cutting off the right-hand side of the board. "So are you afraid of being gay, or of what you think being gay means?"

"Were you?" She retreated and moved her king diagonally one space, realizing that at best she was prolonging the game.

"Terrified. Of both. I wasn’t even sure what being gay meant." A rook joined the queen, blocking access to the other three quadrants. Pale eyes were turned upward to meet hers. "In the end I gave up trying to figure it out. It didn’t matter."

"What did?" Desperate, she moved her remaining pawn, using it offensively in a last ditch effort to stave off the inevitable.

"Holden." A knight swooped across from where it had been benignly hiding, removing her pawn from play.

Reed reached across and with one tapered finger knocked over her king, conceding.

"In thirty years, that’s the only game I ever won."

It was nothing like she had imagined, sitting here among the memories and artifacts of two lives. "I’m sorry. " Reed let a tiny snort escape. "I’ve been doing that a lot lately."

"Losing at chess?" Grey eyes twinkled with humour and Josiah reset the board, fussing with the pieces until they were perfectly aligned.

"That too." This time she moved a pawn forward two spaces.

"Don’t know when to quit, do you?"

She slid the bishop out next. "I pick my battles."

"Good idea, that." He blocked her bishop with a pawn, which he promptly lost.

The queen floated nicely into place and they continued to play, this time in silence until she was able to say, "Checkmate."

"So it is." Once more the board was reset. "Keep playing? Or are you going to quit while you’re ahead?"

It would be the safe thing. "You go first this time."
 

… FORTY FOUR…

The couch beckoned and Jae stared at it reluctantly, only dropping onto its unwelcoming cushions because falling to the floor seemed like a much less pleasant option. Though, she allowed, not by much.  The tan blanket was still bunched up where she'd left it the night before or was it the night before that? The two days since she’d returned from location had blurred together into one long day.

She didn't want to think about it, which, of course, meant that that was exactly what she was thinking about. Peering at the clock over her desk, Jae was able to read the small letters, eyes widening. Tuesday? What happened to Monday? Well, she certainly wouldn't get away with another all-nighter - Caitlynn would see to that. Oh well, what Cait doesn't know can't get me lectured.

Most likely the only thing that had kept the assistant director from swooping in and reading her the riot act already was the fact that she hadn't been due back until Tuesday. Today, she mentally corrected. Reed was due in tomorrow, and filming would pick up the following afternoon.

Tired past the point of being able to sleep, Jae toyed with the idea of driving home, while pulling the blanket firmly under her chin and wiggling to find the slight depression carved from a succession of late nights. A bright spot of light burned through her closed eyelids, the lamp positioned perfectly to make ignoring its glow impossible.

"I don't suppose you'd get that for me, would you?" Stone wings remained furled, the gargoyle dead to the world. There was a remote somewhere in the room that operated the lights, TV, VCR, CD player and coffeemaker, but it would take longer to move the piles of paper to look for it, than it would to get up and switch it off manually. Jae made sure the path back to the couch was relatively clear, rearranging a couple of the piles but not disturbing their overall order. One pile for each shooting day, thirty-seven in all, with four more yet to come. They were, ironically, under the number of shooting days originally scheduled, though two weeks behind in terms of the calendar, and were it not for the sudden change of locations and associated plane fares, they'd be well under budget too. Hopefully, Chambers would decide that all things considered it was as good as on time and under budget.

With a start, Jae realized that she had settled into her desk chair, and was sketching the blocking for a scene she wanted to rework. Reed's distinct profile looked up at her and she resisted the impulse to pick up the phone. The actress hadn't called, and Jae had respected the unspoken covenant, not pushing, though it hadn't stopped her from worrying about Rio and Reed’s return.

A lot.

But either she trusted Reed or she didn't, and trust meant waiting.

Lack of sleep, plus the emotional low on top of what was shaping up to be a wicked case of PMS, caught her with a vengeance and her eyes blurred. Tired, Jae turned out the light and curled up on the couch in a ball, tightly cocooned within the ancient tan Scooby blanket, her entire body hidden in its fluffy, comforting depths. One last thought flitted through her consciousness before she drifted off. Sometimes being a woman sucked.

"Here."

A voice joined the aroma of coffee, both contributing to arouse Jae from a sleep that hadn't been nearly deep or long enough, marred as it had been by odd dreams. "Mmmrmph."

"If you'd rather, I could just inject the caffeine directly into your bloodstream. I used to be quite skilled with a needle."

Funny how, even in her dreams Reed retained the laconic wit that bordered on the edge of eviscerating. Of course the fact that Jae could actually smell coffee lent some credence to the idea she wasn't really dreaming, and was in fact, very nearly awake. And if she was awake and the coffee was real, then the actress really was there - behaving exactly as she should.  "Ever wonder if caffeine is like alcohol?"

"Other than the fact they're both drugs, and come in more concoctions than Methuselah had birthdays?" Reed sounded amused and Jae didn't need to open her eyes to see the smirk or tilted eyebrow.

Jae opened her eyes anyway, wanting to see if she was really awake. "Right. Besides that." You could get drunk just by holding alcohol in your mouth, and coffee seemed to imbue alertness without actual ingestion. Now if coke could catch on to that....

"Nope." A grin came with the denial.

It was too early for this - the playful verbal jousting was just out of reach this morning. Cranky, Jae served up an uncharacteristically generous helping of blunt. "What are you doing here?"

The grin vanished. "You aren't being metaphorical are you?"

"No. I'm being 'you are here a day early in my office at an ungodly hour of the morning' literal."

"I, uhhh, here." Reed seated herself on the end of the couch closest to the door, holding out the crumpled rain check. "And by my watch it's five a.m. - hardly ungodly."

"Oh." That took the wind right out of the sails of the S.S. Indignant and ran it aground. It was definitely too early to get into this, though. "Later, okay? I have a rule about coherent conversations and coffee - they must occur in alphabetical order."

Reed nodded and passed over a cup of the steaming coffee. "Later then." The tone didn't hide the hurt that had flashed across her face.

Jae winced internally, aware that she was being unnecessarily short tempered. "Can we get a rewind? I'm sorry."

There was a small 'zzuuttt' noise and Jae stifled a laugh as Reed painstakingly repeated her previous movements - only this time in reverse - before pausing mime-like at the threshold and re-entering the room. "Here."

Laughing, Jae once again accepted the proffered coffee and patted the edge of the couch as she moved over slightly, making room for her friend. "Good morning."

Reed instead motioned for her to lift her legs and slid in under them, back resting against the couch, feet stretched out in front. One hand patted the top of Jae's thigh before coming to rest on her knee. "I bet you say that to all the ladies."

"Only the ones smart enough to bribe me with coffee." The hot drink settled nicely into her stomach and she settled back into the couch, which seemed a lot more comfortable than it had last night.

Except for the occasional soft whistling of air as Reed blew on her coffee, they were silent, at ease with each other despite the initial rough start to the day. Or maybe, she reflected, they had just reached a point where conflict didn't equal being unfriends. Unfriends? With a vocabulary like that, I need to stick to directing.

A loud yawn broke the silence and Jae lifted her head to see Reed stifle another one. She must have come directly from the airport. That thought warmed her more than the coffee had.  The only reason for Reed to come to the studio at five a.m. with two cups of coffee on a day they weren't filming was to see her. Which meant that the actress wasn't avoiding or shutting her out after all.

"I have to assess the production cost report and adjust the script breakdown sheets to accommodate some extra shots I want to lay down - both before lunch so why don't you go grab some sleep, and we can talk later?"

Surprisingly, a brow was lifted in curiosity as Reed perked up, interest replacing fatigue. "Alternate angles of stuff we already shot - or new stuff?"

"Old stuff. I didn't handle the comedic aspects as well I wanted to and I want to revisit part of it - just to be sure that I have enough to work with when we edit." That was the fine line she had to walk, the balance between shooting too much and too little - each was costly in its own way.

"I don't think it was just you." The wry admission was accompanied by an apologetic grin.

"Thanks, I think." Jae smiled to reinforce that she was teasing, feeling better now that she'd finished the coffee.

"Seriously, part of it might have been unfamiliarity with the territory, but we were stiff too - we shot those pretty early on and were still awkward with each other, and it threw the timing off - forced it a bit. Actually, I was stiff. I bet the one we shoot to end filming goes better."

Jae listened, glad to be able to discuss it with someone. Michael was out because he tended to fawn a tad too much to provide useful insight, and Cait didn't understand the process. Reed understood the nuances and wasn't afraid to take responsibility for mistakes or to give praise when it was due.

"There is one scene I think we do need to reshoot, part of." Reed looked down and her brow crinkled.

Intrigued, Jae swung her legs to the floor and sat up. The actress' insights and instincts had often proved right on target. In a way it had been uncanny, so deep was Reed into the role that it was like having Dar actually able to comment on how she'd behave. It also made it difficult to trust the mixed signals the actress gave off. "Which one?"

"It needs to end on a high note."

Was Reed blushing? Now she was definitely curious. Jae didn't think it was possible to make Reed blush. Bleed maybe - but not blush. "I'm listening."

"You need to end on them together - a quiet moment, a little humour - some indication that they've survived, and fade out on them making love. Leave the audience with proof that it's solid."

The top popped off the cardboard cup, as she squeezed the sides, caught by surprise. Carefully Jae pushed the plastic lid back on. It was something she'd thought about, but had discarded, having already exhausted the amount of nude screen time that the nudity clause in Reed's contract allowed. "You'd be okay with that? I haven't got any room left in the budget for a body double - for either of you."

"I'd be less okay if you didn't make the kind of movie you want because I stood in your way. Let me talk to Gwen."

Reed sauntered from the room as if she hadn't just dropped the cinematic equivalent of an ACME boulder, and all Jae could do was grin. She picked up the notes to the last scene left to shoot and reviewed the blocking and angles she wanted. Strike that - second to last scene.

And what a doozy it would be too, if the mental images running through her brain were any indication.

… … …

"That's good." Reed said.

Jae nodded to herself, watching through the camera monitor as Reed smiled slightly. Perfect - so far, so good.

"Mm... yes, I was glad to see it. I also ran an analysis for hormones and other anomalies, and I think I may have figured out what your little forgetfulness problem is." It had been hard to find a character actor who could convey fatherly concern and teasing camaraderie at the same time, and who was willing to work for peanuts. Damon Wiggins had read for the part - the aging action star willing to take a risk along with a pay cut to revamp his career - and so she'd added him to her little crew of misfits.

Reed sat up, and cocked her head. "Yes?"

"Yes." The actor playing Dr. Steve paused, then nodded solemnly. "I'm afraid you have elevated levels of endorphins in your bloodstream, my friend. Especially Oxytocin."

This is where the scene usually began to fall apart, and Jae held the fingers of one hand crossed tightly as she listened to Reed deliver the next lines. "Oh. What is that? What causes it?"

"Well, it's a naturally occurring hormone. It basically is one of the things responsible for feeling good. Your body releases it under certain circumstances, and it's known to produce the symptoms you're describing. "

Reed pretended to consider the information. There was nothing wrong with the actress' delivery or mannerisms; she was delivering exactly what she'd been asked for. "What circumstances?" In a perfect blend, alarm was mixed with curiosity

"Mmm, in some cases, exercise - especially long distance running. Do you do that?" Even Damon was doing a creditable job as the doctor. Jae just wished she could shake the feeling that they were losing something in the translation from paper to celluloid.

Reed shrugged. "Six, eight miles in a morning."

"Did you do that this morning?"

There was a subtle shake of the actress' head and Jae grinned to herself, as the characteristic furrow that decorated Reed's brow when she was thinking appeared - entirely appropriate for the character. "I. No. " More hesitation. "Not this morning."

"Not that, then." Damon steepled his fingers. "You take any opiates?"

"What?" Reed's brow contracted sharply, anger superseding the thoughtful crease. "Steve, you goddamn well know better."

This was where they'd lost it before, the delicate balance of absurdity and humour that was supposed to be mixed with serious anticipation somehow never really came through. It was supposed to be a comedic scene, right?

Damon raised both hands, changing the script slightly - but that was the least of her problems. "Okay, okay - just asking." A tiny grin chased itself around his lips. "That eliminates two of the three most common causes."

"What's the third?" Reed chuckled, setting up for the punchline. "Eating chocolate?"

"Falling in love," Damon quietly replied. "Oxytocin is the hormone that stimulates the need for touching."

Reed simply stared at him, her jaw sagging slightly, and blinked her eyes, understating the magnitude of the announcement perfectly. "That's, ah, no, Steve, I don't." Reed ran a hand through her hair, this time adding one of Jae's own mannerisms to Dar's character. "That's not."

"Dar, relax." Damon leaned forward. "Breathe, okay? I don't want you keeling over in my office, it looks bad for the nurses. My god, you'd think I just said you were pregnant or something... there's nothing wrong with being in love - it's good for you." The words were capped by a fond smile.

"But I'm, are you? Is that all, Dr. Steve?" Jae wondered what well Reed was drawing on for the stumbling confusion.

"Sure." Damon gazed at the actress, projecting quiet compassion. "Go take a walk, Dar - get some air. You're white as a sheet."

Reed nodded absently, and walked through the doorway.

"Pan right, follow her - and cut." It was still off, and she was about ready to scream in frustration. The problem was she didn't get the scene as written - it didn't make sense to her, so how could she capture it? I can't. "I don't get it," she muttered to no one in particular. Was it supposed to be comedy or not?

"Get what?" Cait asked, handing over the shooting notes.

"This scene. It doesn't make any sense."

Holly leaned across from her place next to Cait. "What doesn't make sense?"

"This. How can Dar not know? I mean - a doctor? She needs a doctor to tell her she's in love?" It had made her laugh aloud when she'd read the novel itself, but for reasons completely inimical to what she needed to film.

"You mean how can anyone not notice when someone makes them smile just by entering a room, inspires them to out of character behavior or when two people seem totally inseparable?"

"Exactly. No one is that blind."

Holly looked at Cait before replying. "It wasn't blindness so much as a bone deep belief that love wasn't for her. That it was something she wasn't entitled to or capable of. She'd never felt it before - and so could not recognize it. Not much she could do to rationalize away scientific evidence."

"Sorry, what was that again?" Jae turned her body to face the writer and away from Reed's distracting presence.

"She said that Dar wasn't blind - just a little battered and disbelieving," the AD supplied, dark eyes lingering on Jae's.

The air was pregnant and Jae was uncomfortably aware that they were staring at her expectantly. "What?"

"Nothing." Came the simultaneous response as Cait and Holly walked away, heads shaking.

"That was weird." Jae shrugged it off and turned back to see if the set had been readied for the next take yet. She signaled an assistant and raised her chair, ready to begin as soon as everything was in place again.

… Forty-Five…

"Cut and print." Everyone froze and looked up at her. Jae held the moment slightly, drawing out the words they waited to hear. "We nailed it guys - that's a wrap."

It's over - the long weeks of filming - the tightrope dance with budgets and schedules is over.

Before she could catch her mental breath, she heard the unmistakable sound of a cork popping. "Cait! No!" She ducked, knowing it was futile. Champagne sprayed over her, dousing her shirt, running down the valley between her breasts, and into her shorts. Another blast hit from behind and she looked over to see Reed shaking a bottle, as the actress readied a second blast. Movement from the left drew her attention to Gwen, who, it seemed, was also part of what had to be a preplanned plot, though the blonde actress was still struggling with the wire cage trapping the cork.

Jae gave up as Michael, along with various other members of the crew, produced bottles of their own from various hiding places, and held her arms out to the side, presenting a smiling target. Thoroughly soaked in the most expensive ammunition she'd ever played with, Jae caught a smiling Reed's gaze. Blue pools flickered slightly to her left, a wicked grin tipping the director that the actress was up to something.

Jae followed the actress' line of sight and spotted Reed's target.

Laughing, she liberated a champagne bottle from Cait, and in silent collusion moved around to create crossfire for Reed. The actress winked, and they slipped silently into place - or at least as stealthily as a half-naked actress and the primary target of the liquid firing squad could go.

They were lucky, and by the time Holly realized what was about to happen, Reed had nailed the brunette with an extended spray of champagne.

Reed leaned the bottle jauntily against one hip, looking extremely self-satisfied. "Yo, Holly!"

"Yo, Reed!"

The actress never saw it coming. The scriptwriter arced a return volley of her own, thumb expertly tucked across the top of the bottle, increasing the pressure, and soaked the actress.

The war was on.

Jae lost track of whom she was aiming at and who - as well as how many - were firing at her.

Cait had champagne dripping from her nose, and Michael had shed his shirt. Waterguns had materialized from somewhere, and soon they were ducking in and out of the sets, hiding behind fake walls and scaled down furniture.

Teams began to form, coalescing along familiar lines, and Jae found herself back to back with Reed as they fended off some of the technical crew to one side, Holly and her girlfriend, Sam on the other, while Cait, Thom, and Gwen advanced from the front.

"We're doomed." Jae shook her bottle again trying to generate pressure, but she was nearly out of ammo.

Reed looked at her thoughtfully, and Jae swore she could see the wheels turning. "Not necessarily."

"You have a plan? Because now would be a good time for a plan." Jae ducked a blast from Thom's water cannon, flinching as the cold water splashed off the wall and onto the back of her neck.

The actress feinted to the left, then swung her bottle around, nailing her co-star squarely in the chest. "When I say 'run' - duck between Cait and Holly."

"That's your plan? Run?"

"Rule number one - if you're outnumbered, run."

"What's rule two?"

"If you're almost out of ammunition, run. And since both apply, run. Now!"

Jae did as she was told, more than a little surprised at how easily she was able to get by their adversaries. Breathless, she ducked around the corner of what had been Kerry's living room and flopped onto the couch.

"Holy Mary, Mother of God." The exclamation flew from her mouth, and she thought her eyes were going to follow suit and land on the floor.

Reed had sauntered cockily, the fitted half-sheet she had been wearing while filming the final love scene in one hand and a champagne bottle in the other. "What? It's not like you haven't seen me without my clothes on before."

Jae took the bottle from Reed and watched while the actress replaced the sheet around her torso and fastened the snaps that kept the sheet fastened during filming.

"Now I know how you avoided panty lines." Oh - good one. This year's award for stupid comments goes to - Jae Cavanaugh. Jae took a swallow from the bottle, swirling the slightly flat, warm champagne around her suddenly parched mouth before finally swallowing it. "That's not helping much." She pointed at the sheet, which a thorough soaking had rendered nearly transparent.

Reed moved forward, merely inches from straddling Jae's outstretched legs, and took back the bottle, drinking. "You object?"

Danger, Will Robinson. Danger. Her mental alarm bell rang - giving ample warning - which she promptly ignored. "No objection." Deliberately, she let her eyes roam slowly over Reed's body, careful not to linger over any one spot too long. "Not at all."

"Good."

The bottle was passed back and Jae drank, though how she avoided choking she wasn't sure. Is she flirting with me? Reed still hadn't moved, so she passed the remaining alcohol back, and watched as the actress drained the bottle. "Where's everyone else?" She'd half expected the others to thunder in after them.

"Holly, Sam, Waters, and Gwen took advantage in the momentary lapse of attention in the men to gang up on them. I don't think Waters appreciated her fiancé's wandering eye. Come to think of it, about the only one who wasn't shocked to immobility was Holly."

The image of a stunned Thom ogling the actress left her laughing so hard she started to snort, which set Reed off.

This was probably the most relaxed she'd ever been at the close of filming - usually she was exhausted. But then lots had changed during filming. She'd changed. For once in her life she'd put something ahead of making movies, put someone ahead of her job. It had been touch and go, but they'd made it.

Not even Cait could make her laugh like that. It was one of the things she loved about Reed, the quirky humour that was usually carefully hidden, often delivered with a deadpan expression that only the slight curve to her lips betrayed.

Her eyes widened and Jae thought her heart had stopped. If someone had tied a clue to a brick and chucked it at her, it couldn't have hit any harder.

"You okay, Tigger?"

I love you. "I'm fine, Roo." For a split second, she wasn't sure which one she'd said out loud.

"Good. I'd hate to lose you this early in the evening. C'mon, your crowning awaits."

"Do I have to?"

"Let's see," Reed held her fingers to her forehead, like she was trying to predict the future. "Lead Actress, Director Skip Cast Party. Yeah, I think they'd notice."

Jae looked over at the actress. "Y'think?"

"As little as possible," Reed deadpanned, getting up from her spot on the couch where she'd collapsed laughing earlier.

"All right. I surrender."

They made their way back to the main catering area where a water balloon fight had erupted. It was total chaos and by tradition decorum had been completely chucked out along with most of clothing of the participants, as latex splattered against people and props, drenching everything.

… … …

The party was in full swing, the bulk of the sets dismantled, and almost all of the water from the earlier contest had been sopped up. Music rumbled from the large speakers that the sound crew had wired onto a makeshift stage, and various members of the special effects crew had jury-rigged a light show of sorts.

From her vantage point behind a pillar, Reed could see Jae laughing, delicate fingers fiddling with the tuning pegs as she tamed the guitar before beginning to play. Her glass was empty and she ventured forth in search of a refill. On the stage, Gwen and Cait were hamming it up as Jae and the impromptu band played.

It wasn't quite karoke, but close.

Jae finished with a flourish and they collapsed laughing, as the crowd applauded and stomped. Several songs and beers later they stumbled down, putting the instruments to rest.

Reed accepted a drink thrust at her and drained it, her throat parched from laughing. "That was awful."

"Yes. But fun."

"Definitely." Reed snaked an arm out and caught the director as Jae stumbled, then left her hand in place, guiding them toward an empty couch. Alcohol had fuzzed her brain more than she would have liked, and she was hyperaware of the body next to hers.

Jae's nose crinkled in thought, and Reed tried not to grin.

"What?"

"You are such a dweeb." Reed let the smile show and affectionately ruffled the director's hair.

"Dweeb? You come into my house, and insult me?" Jae did an uncanny impersonation of DeNiro.

"If it helps, you are my dweeb."

"Am I?" The question was spoken softly.

The tension they had been playing with jokingly for weeks suddenly boiled over, propelled by the heat added during the champagne fight. Reed swallowed, then swallowed again. "Yes."

Around them the party ebbed and flowed, guests and crew drifting in and out of the sunken living room, in some pattern that only Nostradamas could have interpreted. It was quiet around them though, noise and laughter not penetrating the insulated little world they'd just created. Neither of them broke the spell, and they just sat, aware of the significance of what had just happened, equally unsure of what was next.

Casting another sidelong glance at Jae, Reed tried to figure out what the director was thinking. Foam from the draft beer rested on the fine hairs above Jae's top lip, and without thought Reed gently wiped it away with her thumb, letting her hand linger.

Jae turned her head inward slightly. Warm breath kissed Reed’s palm and ran through her body like an electric shock. Before her mind could thwart her body's intent, she leaned forward and replaced the touch of her thumb with a kiss.

It was a jumble of sensations and feelings - fear, excitement, curiosity, desire - soft lips gave under hers, tentative and daring all at once. A muffled sigh reached her ears, waking her from the sensuality of the experience to the reality of what she had done.

The emotions tying her in knots were far more complex than the simple kiss that changed her whole world. It wasn't the first time they'd kissed - or even the second - but it was a completely new experience, and the hedonist in her reveled in the gentle give and take as they explored each other.

She had no idea who pulled back first, aware only that they were staring at each other and that she couldn't tear her eyes away from Jae's. Hardly daring to breathe, she waited to see if she had gone too far, let her impulsiveness ruin a friendship.

"C'mon." Jae stood and held out her hand. "We need to get that taken care of."

It was only then that Reed realized her nose was bleeding.

"Hey, it's okay. It's sort of cute."

Numbly she followed Jae out of the cavernous soundstage and into the cold desert air. The chilly blast served only to highlight the lingering heat where their bodies had come together. As they walked she had time to second-guess what she had done, though she still had no clue what had possessed her to actually do it. There was no clue in Jae's movements as to how the director felt about what had transpired.

Somehow they were at her trailer and then inside. Confused and feeling lost, she grabbed a towel from the rack separating the bedroom from the bathroom and viciously wiped at her nose. "I'm sorry."

The cloth was taken away. "Shhh. Let me," Jae whispered, then reinforced the words with gentle motions of her hands as the last trickle of blood was dabbed away.

Butterfly kisses to the tip of her nose replaced the cloth and Reed tilted her head, allowing another kiss.

What do I do now? The mechanics she understood, having read too much not to be aware of how things were supposed to work. Reed just wasn't sure what she was allowed to do. She knew what she wanted to do.

She wanted to kiss Jae again. The desire must have telegraphed itself to her partner, and they kissed again, less tentative this time, and when Reed felt the gentle pressure of a tongue against her lips she opened in response. Suddenly it seemed she was having difficulty breathing, and she pulled back slightly.

The motion didn't deter Jae, lips tracing a path to the soft skin of her neck, and Reed wondered if the other woman could feel how hard her heart was beating. A thumb brushed over the material of her shirt, the thin cloth transmitting the touch directly to the skin below.

If she needed any concrete proof that she was aroused, Reed had it, as her nipples rubbed painfully against the rough cotton. With Jae's head bent, there wasn't much of the woman she could reach, so Reed lifted one hand to play with the hair on the back of Jae's neck. She needs a haircut.

Bolder, she let her hands play over the finely muscled shoulders, then further along to the slight dip of the small of Jae's back. She wanted to go further, but wasn't entirely sure she hadn't gone too far already. Funny how you could be scared shitless and feel perfectly safe.

Reed felt a deft touch to the skin of her tummy as Jae explored the area below her breasts, never quite touching them, caused her to arch slightly in response. Her skin tingled in places Jae hadn't even touched yet, anticipation doing as much to kindle a response as the caresses. She was trembling, unable to tell how much of it was fear, and how much desire, or outright panic. What if I can't do this? They'd pretty much covered everything she had any experience doing, and she was fast being pulled light-years from her comfort zone. Surreptitiously, she lifted a finger to her nose, afraid that she might be bleeding again, and was relieved to find it dry.

… … …

Under her fingers Jae could feel the quiver of the tight muscles that framed Reed's abdomen. Every pass of her nails generated a response. She just wished she knew if it was desire or stark terror causing it.

"Look at me." She propped herself against the cushions on one elbow. "I want to hear you say something."

Confusion was plain on Reed's face, but there was an affirmative nod.

"I want to hear you say no." With her free hand, she nudged a lock of dark hair back into place, letting her fingers linger on the strong jaw of her friend.

"I don't understand."

"I know you don't - and that's why." How could she explain without hurting Reed? "I need to know that you know that you can say no." The furrowed brow she received in response helped her clarify the rest of what niggled at the edge of her awareness. Reed was drunk. "And I think I need to know that you're sober enough to know what's happening."

"You don't wa-"

"No, I want you." To prove it she leaned forward and nibbled lightly on Reed's lips until they parted in response, then deepened the kiss, before reluctantly pulling away. "More than you know. But what I want more is your friendship."

"So you aren't going to sleep with me because you like me?"

That was one way of looking at it. "Yes. And to be perfectly honest, I'd like to be more than a drunken experiment." And I want to know that I'm sleeping with Reed - not Dar. But she didn't say that.

"So you're after repeatable results?"

The quirky humour she loved had surfaced again, along with the low throaty drawl that almost made her forget why she was saying no. "Something like that." She could see Reed mustering her courage, determination settling over chiseled features. It was like a decision had been made, a goal set, and it made her uncomfortable. "What do you want from me?"

"I don't know." The admission was subdued.

Treading carefully, Jae reached a hand out and softly stroked a cheek before taking one of Reed's hands in her own. "When you can answer that, then we can try this again."

The hand was pulled away and Reed sat up, arms tucked protectively across her chest. It didn't take a rocket scientist to see that she was upset. "Are you always so fucking noble?"

"No." And she wasn't, either. She'd had her share of flings, comfortable with her sexuality and physical desires.

"Then let me worry about me."

Obviously, in trying to explain on rational grounds, she'd missed something.

"Is this honestly how you want it to happen? A drunken quickie in a movie trailer? Cause this isn't how I'd pictured it." No sooner were the words out of her mouth than she realized what she'd just confessed.

Instead of the anticipated accusations of planned seductions, a shy smile appeared. "You thought about it." Wonder filled the statement and some of the edgy tension that Reed had been radiating disappeared.

Jae realized the inadvertent admission had been a type of reassurance that her earlier words had failed to provide. By having fantasized about the circumstances, she was confirming in a very real way her desires. "A lot. You haven't been helping lately, either." That was an understatement.

"Fireplace? Shower? Beach? Hot tub? Cave?" Reed was smiling, ticking off clichés.

Jae wondered if the other woman realized that she was revealing a few things about herself with the list. "I don't know exactly." There was no way she was going to admit to the unfettered physicality of some of her fantasies. "I was hoping for more than two or three hours. And I could do without the PMS." Romantic it wasn't. But it was the truth. As much as she wanted to make love, Jae wasn't sure she was up to it - even if Reed didn't have to leave for the airport at five in the morning.

"Guess that explains why you've been such a cranky bear all week." One finger poked at Jae's stomach, a light tickle that bordered on a tentative caress. "You want it to be perfect."

"I don't want it to be perfect. I just want it to be right." She knew she'd finally found the right words to explain what she was feeling, as she was rewarded with a genuine smile.

Reed leaned back against the cushions. The last vestiges of the tension that had been plainly visible on the lanky frame had vanished. A hopeful glance was cast in her direction. "Can I kiss you again?"  A flush crept upward from the open neckline of the sleeveless shirt. "I liked that part."

It was charming, and Jae felt an indulgent smile forming. Boldness and a surprising naiveté mixed with jaded cynicism, all tempered by an adventurousness of spirit - it was a magnetic mix and she leaned forward, complying. "I liked that part too."

And this time it was just a kiss. Freed from performance anxiety, she gave herself up to the sensations, amazed to discover that in spite of her experience, some things were still brand new.
 

… FORTY SIX…

Black and ominous, it might as well have been a spider as a telephone, because she couldn’t make herself reach out and pick up the receiver.

"What are you looking at, hunh?" Jae glared at the gargoyle, daring it to laugh. Prudently, it did not and she reached out, affectionately scratching the tuft of yellowish fake fur that stuck up from the top of its stone head. The ideal pet for a negligent workaholic. With a wry grin, she lifted the notepad from her desk onto her lap, the pathetically empty page belying the previous thought; she’d gotten absolutely no work done this morning.

And without knowing where she stood with Reed, Jae very much doubted she’d get any more done today either. She’d tried. The larger-than-life-sized images had danced across the screen of the editing bay, mesmerizing her with the power she’d had. A flick of a switch, a cut here, a cut there, change this angle, overlay that shot - it had been intoxicating - she could make Reed do anything she wanted. And in the end, she had been unable to make the actress do anything at all, abandoning the editing bay for notepads and shot reports, afraid that she’d let the line between Reed and Dar blur in a haze of wishful thinking. If it’s this hard for me - how are you coping? They’d needed more time, and there just wasn’t any. No time to sort out the tangle of feelings or the implications of what they had done.

There was time. How long does it take to say ‘I love you’?

She was still sitting there, thinking, when the door opened, the hinge creaking, once again in need of oil.

"You look like shit." Cait set the carryout tray on the desk, then lifted the plastic cover from her own steaming cup, letting it cool.

"I love you, too." The sarcastic words spilled out with a lack of self-consciousness that only served to highlight her cowardice in not saying them to Reed.

Annoyingly cheerful, Cait blew her a kiss Monroe-like. "I know."

Jae picked up her coffee, taking a second to enjoy the mix of eggnog and nutmeg that wrapped around the stronger aroma of the dark roast, complementing it perfectly. "Thanks."

"Don’t thank me. Read the card."

Card? There it was, tucked in the center. She’d assumed it was a receipt or charge slip, and hadn’t given the folded square a second thought. Keeping her eyes averted, sure she was blushing, Jae opened the small envelope and slid the card out.

Because ‘C’ comes before ‘E’,

R

It was Cait’s handwriting, but the sentiment and style were unquestionably Reed’s.

… … …

"Lewis residence, Rio speaking."

Reed looked up, the pieces of Meccano building toy frozen on their way to being joined to the body of the car they were building. It was about the right time

"We’re building a car, and it has a motor and everything, and mum said we could race it in the barn cause it’s bigger and there’s more room." The words tumbled out in breathless excitement. "I’m going to set the camera up and see if I can make it look real, well except that the pieces are all sorts of colours."

He paused, looking thoughtful, head cocked to one side, listening. It had to be Jae.

"Cool." Rio was grinning from ear to ear, and she wondered what tip the director had given him. "Mum’s right here." He giggled. "Yes, she’s behaving herself."

Here it was. Reed felt the adrenaline rush through her body and her stomach tensed in response. She’d left the director sleeping when she’d gone to the airport, intending to call as soon as she got home, but it hadn’t been that easy.

What had seemed simple and heady in the predawn hours had become unbearably complicated in the morning light. It was easier to do than to think.

"Mum?"

"Sorry. Thanks." She took the receiver, holding one hand over the mouthpiece. "Can you do me a favour?"

"Sure." He hopped down from the stool.

"Go make sure that Aunt Heidi doesn’t need the barn this afternoon."

"’Kay."

Reed waited until he’d headed for the entryway and his boots before speaking. "Hello."

"Hey."

It was only one word, barely breathed, but Reed realized that Jae was as scared as she was. "I don’t think Waters is very fond of me."

Jae laughed, and the little ball of tension that had taken over her body relaxed its hold. "Nah. You just mess up her neat little schedules. That and I gather you phoned her at six in the morning."

"Guilty. I didn’t think it was fair to unleash you on an unsuspecting editing bay without a shot of caffeine." Now that the film was over, would they have anything to talk about?

"Then I’ll have to think of a suitable punishment."

"Should I run?"

"Do you want to?"

Things took an abruptly serious turn, but couched in ambiguous enough language that they could both save face and pretend that nothing had ever happened.

There’d been too much pretense in her life already. "No." Reed paused, digging deep for the words, being as honest as possible. "But I don’t know if I’m ready to be caught, either."

"Me either." There were muted voices coming through the line, and Jae asked someone to wait a minute. "I have to go. Talk to you later?"

"Definitely."

"And Reed?" Jae hesitated.

"Yeah?" Her stomach fluttered.

"I miss you. A lot."

The flutter increased, spreading warmth in its wake. "I miss you too." Reed hung up and tugged on her boots, oblivious to the fact she was singing to herself.

Slightly off-key words hung over the freshly fallen snow as she made her way to the barn, equally unaware of an amused Heidi watching from the paddock.

… … …

"Well? What do you think?"

Reed used her mouse to drag the status bar and reset the clip. "I think you don’t like it." She turned the sound down and replayed the footage.

"That bad?" The director sounded defeated.

"No. It’s good. But you don’t like it. How come?"

"I don’t know," Jae snapped back.

Reed took a breath. Talking to Jae when she was frustrated was a lot like helping Rio with his math homework. "Yes, you do. What are you seeing that no one else can?"

There was silence, and she could tell that Jae was replaying the scene again. The silence stretched out, only the intermittent clicks and soft whirring noises indicating that the footage was being replayed over and over again.

The first time Jae had asked her to look at a section of the film, she’d been surprised. It had taken a couple of times before she’d figured out when Jae wanted advice, or simply confirmation of what she already knew. Today was different. Reed sensed that Jae was truly frustrated, unable to put into words what her intuition and instincts were saying.

"The camera," Jae said suddenly. "I can see the camera. It’s there in the room." The frustration had become elation.

Reed replayed the scene. Now that Jae had put a name to it, she could see it too.

"Thanks, Reed."

There were sharp clicks and more whirring noises, then the phone went dead. Jae was back in ‘focus’ mode. Bemused, Reed let the ‘you’re welcome’ fall into the phone, knowing that even without the live connection Jae heard them.

… … …

"A little to the left. Higher. A little higher," Jae directed.

Reed brushed aside a heavily needled branch. "If this gets any higher it won’t even be on the tree."

"Ha ha. Left. Lower. Perfect."

"Are you sure?" Her height allowed her easy access to the upper reaches of the pine.

"Yes. Now we need some blue ones - for balance."

Hiding her smile, Reed obligingly dug through the battered wicker chest and retrieved a box of the fragile blue glass bulbs, quickly verifying that they all had metal hooks. For some reason the little silver hooks went missing in numbers that grew exponentially from year to year - no matter how many you bought. The top had broken on one, its jagged edge glinting under the glow of the white Christmas lights already strung on the pine. She gingerly threw it in the trash can, perversely enjoying the tinkling noise.

"Now there’s an odd number."

"Actually there was an odd number to start with - they come in boxes of nine. Rio broke one last year trying to get his truck out from under the tree. So we have seven of nine - an odd number." Reed took a sip of her mulled wine, the subtle interplay of the mead with the raspberry wine creating a burst of flavour that made it easy to forget how potent the drink was.

Mischievously, she began to haphazardly scatter them over the face of the tree. One, two...three.

On cue, Jae cut in. "You’re putting them too close together."

"Tell me something, Tigger. Are you always this anal, or are you channeling Piglet for a reason?" She lifted her eyebrow and let a small grin show.

"Oh God. I’m channeling my Mother."

Reed nearly burst out laughing at the horror evident on Jae’s face. If Saint Nick himself had arrived in a puff of soot, she doubted that the blonde would look any more shocked than she did now.

Jae looked up, subdued. "It was awful. She’d order Dad all over the living room, making him adjust things until they were perfect. She’d even divvy up the bulbs into neat little piles beforehand. We’d put them up and Mother’d come along behind us, moving them around. The tree always looked gorgeous."

"Well then, just think of this as the first Christmas off the rest of your life." Reed reached into the chest and pulled out a finely detailed wooden pony, its green rockers and tiny reins an exact copy of the larger horse in Rio’s room.

"Close your eyes." Reed waited until she saw Jae’s eyes close. "Now give me directions."

"Left. Up. There."

Reed carefully hung the pony on the branch, cheating a little to make sure it wasn’t too close to a neighboring red bulb. "Again."

"Down, down...around the side, there."

Again she hung an ornament, this time placing the porcelain bear in front of a light, making it glow softly. "Again."

Soon she didn’t need to say ‘again’, and Jae would just say ‘there’ every once in awhile, her eyes still closed, a contented smile complementing the relaxed way she was sprawled on the rug. Reed smiled and turned the light out, letting the soft glow from the tree fill the room.

"You can open them now."

Silence.

"Jae?"

"It’s beautiful."

"So are you." The quiet words broadened Jae’s smile and Reed let their eyes meet in unstrained awareness, enjoying the simple connection, holding it between them and not quite letting it go, even when the sudden skipping of the Christmas album made them look away.

"Let me guess. A favorite?" Jae asked, smiling.

It was. Heidi had found the compilation in a second hand store down Calias way, and together with Rio they had worn a groove in the vinyl.

The clock chimed, the heavy brass knockers sounding the hour.

"I have to go." Jae said.

"I know." Every day they talked, sometimes about the film, but mostly about nothing at all, the conversations lingering far into the night, and more often than not, well into the morning. Not tonight, though. "I wish you were here."

"Me too."

"Next year."

"It’s a date. Merry Christmas, Reed."

"Happy Christmas, Jae. Drive carefully." The monitor flickered, and the screen went blank, the direct video feed shut off. After a second of wishful thinking, Reed turned the system off, watching as the green light on the hard drive went out.

… … …

 Should I? Jae hesitated over the number. On the desk her credit card shone under the lamp, its hologram logo reflecting the light, winking. The clerk had said that she had until four p.m., and it was already a quarter to.

Giving Rio the computers from the film set for Christmas was one thing, but this was more. A lot more.

Since when? Busted by her own conscience, Jae looked at the calendar reflexively. It was the first time she’d remembered Valentine’s Day without Cait’s help in years - and the only time that marking the occasion carried such a huge risk.

Ten minutes had slipped by, ticked off unnoticed, and she picked up the phone. How Reed felt about her wasn’t important, and the words were true, irrespective of context. So she’d say them.

She’d believe.

It was a good thing that she’d written Reed’s address down, because her brains deserted her at the critical moment. The girl on the other end patiently waited for her to read the information.

"What would you like the card to say?"

Jae hesitated again. She wasn’t witty like Reed, the perfect turn of phrase eluded her. Believe. Her granda’s voice echoed over her worries and she swallowed. "I love you."

"Signature?" The girl sounded blasé, unaware of the momentous occasion. But that was life, really - a series of events that gripped you in their urgency and which passed unnoticed by others held in the grip of their own lives.

"No signature."

It wouldn’t need one.

… FORTY SEVEN…

It was raining - not unusual for Maine in the spring. Splashes lovingly cleaned the last evidence of winter from the landscape, and the unique aroma of trees in bloom crept through the spaces between the timbers of the cabin. Reed listened to the steady throb as the water beat against the roof and windows, waking slowly to the same rhythm that had lulled her to sleep where she sat, curled in a chair. Opening her eyes fully, she traced the spidery veins splayed across the glass, obscuring the world beyond

Reed tucked the blanket around her hips, more for comfort than warmth, the small fire in the wood stove more than enough to ward off the chill. It had been a settled few months, her time divided unequally between Rio and the odd public appearance in support of ‘Tropical Storm’s’ pending release. They’d had to adapt and it had taken some getting used to, but in the end things continued much as they had before.

Soft chimes rang the hour. It was time to decide. The invitation had come in its finely engraved envelope, bearing the director’s distinctive signature and words that if they had come from anyone else would have seemed trite - ‘121 down, 10 to go’. That had been nine and a half days ago.

The envelope now rested on top of the airplane ticket to Miami, which was in turn tucked under the small wooden box that contained a gift from Josiah and the card from a dozen roses. Nestled in the box, carefully encircling each of the two kings, were two rings, inscribed with five simple words.

‘Where you go, I go’.

The box that she’d forgotten when she left his house had arrived three days after she returned from California, and when she’d finally been able to make herself open it, she’d found the simple red-gold bands, worn more on one side than the other. They weren’t ornamental pieces brought out for show on special occasions - they were tangible symbols of something she had thought couldn’t exist.

Something she thought she’d found.

The last words he’d spoken to her had echoed on that long flight to Los Angeles, but it had taken her a week to take the risk, and play. They drifted through her head again, and she could almost picture him sitting on his couch as he called out, after barely catching her before the door had swung shut. Could see him pointing at the board, where she’d lost another game. ‘Never be afraid to lose, but be terrified of never trying.’ So she’d tried.

And won, defeating the legacy of a lifetime of fear. That had turned out to be the easy part. More complicated was the realization that pursuing a relationship with Jae would mean accepting the label the media had already given her. Even more complicated was figuring out whether or not to bring a child into the mix.

She still had no answers for that one.

Reed poured another mug of coffee from the carafe idly resting on the raised hearth, the heavy clay enough to keep the contents piping hot. Light rapping on the window warned her that she had company. "In here."

"You haven’t left yet?"

"Can’t put much by you."

Heidi stuck her hands over top of the cast iron stove and briskly rubbed them together, using a combination of warmed air and friction to ease the chill. "Can’t decide what to wear?"

"Can’t decide whether or not to even go." She left it at that, having never spoken to Heidi of the change in her relationship with Jae, or the things she had begun to learn about herself. Heidi knew she was seeing a counselor, but Reed had kept the details private.

The brunette crossed to the table, one finger sliding over the top of the box, before she pulled the tickets and invitation out. "I think you have. I think you made the decision months ago."

Startled, Reed just stood there.

"Geoff and Rio are bringing the car around. Let’s get you packed."

Packed. To go. Then she knew. She had to go. It had to be her this time. It had always been Jae. Jae who climbed balconies, Jae who flew across the country. This time - this time - it had to come from her, freely and without suasion.

She had the answer to Jae’s question.

… … …

Jae slid the straps onto her shoulders and took a last glance in the mirror. I look like a candy cane. Long hours in an editing bay over the winter had somewhat diminished her perennial tan, and the red dress clung to her frame, its brilliant hue a sharp contrast to her paler hair and eyes. She sighed. Too late now to do anything about it.

Tonight was the night. Opening night.

She ruffled her hair one last time, grateful at least that she’d remembered to get it cut, and left the room, heading for the lobby and the waiting limousine. The foyer was crowded, but Caitlynn and Sarah were easy to spot, sitting as they were in a group that included Thom, Holly and Samantha - the woman she presumed to be the writer’s escort.

"Hey Punkin."

"Daddy!" Jae threw her arms around her father, and let him wrap her in a bear hug.

"Your mother thought it would be a nice surprise. It’s not everyday one of your kids releases a big Hollywood picture."

She swallowed. "It’s a surprise, Da. Definitely a surprise." Jae just hoped the content wouldn’t prove to be an equally huge surprise to her parents.

Her father laughed before leaning down to kiss the top of her head. "We’ll see you at the party later, if you can spare some time for yawr pawr kin." The twinkle in his eyes and the outrageous Appalachian accent let the director know she was being teased.

"I dunno, Paw, you’d better book a dance or two through Cait. She handles my scheduling." They had gotten to the table where the others were seated, and she squeezed into a seat that afforded her a clear view of everyone coming and going from the spacious lobby down below. "Where’s Mother?"

"She needed a few extra minutes to finish dressing."

They both rolled their eyes, knowing that a few extra minutes could mean anywhere from five minutes to ninety and beyond.

Jae looked around. Her Mother had arrived, joining those already gathered in the lounge. Everyone’s here. Almost everyone. The strangest part was that no one had asked where Reed was - or at least no one had asked her. Maybe she’s just running late. Still, she couldn’t help but scan the crowd just in case.

Jae put her disappointment aside and trailed Sarah and Holly out to the car. In a show of unity, director, lead actresses and author-screenwriter would arrive together. The others would arrive first in separate cars.

The ride itself passed quickly, her nerves blurring the sights and sounds, and suddenly they were there. The bright spotlights that swept the sky illuminated the theatre as they raked the edifice. Velveteen ropes cordoned off a pathway that led inside, and acted as a soft rampart, holding back the throng of people who had come to catch a glimpse of Hollywood’s bright lights.

Halfway down the carpeted pathway, she froze.

Reed.

At the end of the journey, Reed stood waiting, sheen of cobalt blue satin accentuating the darkness of her hair and the pale luminousity of her eyes.

She came.

Then everything stopped. There was no noise, no flashing bulbs of light, and the feel of the carpet beneath her feet faded away. She came.

Reed’s smile was so small that anyone else would have missed it - but then again - it wasn’t aimed at anyone else. That smile was for her, and her alone.

Someone nudged her, and it was only then that she realized she had stopped. Putting one foot carefully in front of the other, she moved forward again, not daring to break eye contact, lest the other woman disappear, having not really been there at all, made real solely by a wish.

Standing and waiting for Jae to finish the long walk from the curb to the cinema was one of the hardest things Reed had ever had to do. Not because she wanted to bolt, but because she wanted to meet Jae halfway.

Reed stood her ground, and just watched as the group made their way inside. Peripherally, she was aware that Holly and Sarah were flanking Jae, but she paid them no mind, mesmerized by the bright smile she received as Jae recognized she was there.

Lovely. She was sure there were other words, heaps of them, that could be combined better, but at that instant that was the one that fit. The red dress was a perfect contrast to the lighter features and paler skin of the blonde, the sheath clinging and moving in perfect time as well-muscled legs brought Jae closer.

Then she was there and Reed stepped forward. She didn’t think about it. If she had, the moment would have passed, another one lost, and she was determined not to lose anymore. It was the barest brush of her lips to Jae’s, then she shifted her path, letting her lips hover above a delicate ear. "Yes?"

There was a hitch in Jae’s breathing. "Yes."

Their mouths came together, and if it wasn’t perfect, it was right.

… … …

"Hey. You okay?" Tears were running down Jae’s cheeks and Reed was worried. It hadn’t been a sad movie. The first chance she’d gotten, she had slipped away from the press and well-wishers, acutely aware that Jae had disappeared from the private room in the restaurant.

"No."

She hesitated, unsure and unable to figure out what was wrong. The film had turned out beautifully and Reed had been amazed at the view of herself she’d seen splashed across the screen. It had been her and yet wasn’t her - and unlike other movies, by the fourth or fifth scene she’d even been able to forget she was watching herself - watching scenes she already knew the endings to. Jae had done a masterful job. Suddenly, it clicked. Had done. Past tense. For Reed the role had ended months ago, she’d already completed the process of picking Dar out of her psyche - not so Jae.

The director’s end had come when the screen went dark and the house lights came up.

"Let it out." Reed pulled them into a dark corner.

And Jae did, the sobs wracking the director’s body until Reed was sure that they’d tear her friend apart. When the director finally looked up, black lines streaked her face where mascara had run, obviously not quite waterproof enough.

"I’m sorry."

"Don’t be." Jae had held her enough times while she cried; in a strange way it felt good to be able to reciprocate.

Jae leaned against her again. "I can’t believe it’s over. Nine months. Gone."

"Not gone. Shared." She kissed Jae’s forehead.

"It’s going to be weird."

Reed smiled. "Weirder than us?"

There was a tiny hint of a smile around Jae’s eyes. "I don’t think that’s possible."

"C’mon. We have two choices. I can lick a napkin and wipe the smudges off your face, or we can go back to your hotel and clean you up properly." There was a third choice. The restaurant they were holding the post screening party in had restrooms, but she’d had enough of people and Reed sensed that Jae had too.

"Ewww. You don’t do that to Rio, do you?"

She didn’t. But it had gotten Jae to smile, so it was worth it. "Yep. Big wads of spit-soaked napkins - even works on spaghetti."

"That is so gross." Jae gave her a sideways look, then started to laugh. "You are such a liar."

"Busted."

"Thank you."

"You’re welcome." She leaned in slightly and let Jae kiss her again. Every nerve in her body was aware of the gentle pressure. Only the wall kept them from falling over, her body pinning Jae’s smaller one to the wooden panneling.

"Hotel," Jae breathed out, the word ragged, partially swallowed by the kiss.

"Definitely." Reed could feel her breathing and heartbeat increase, refusing to stop the kiss, months of anticipation stoked past the boiling point.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." She had never been more sure of anything in her life.

… … …

The morning after the night before.

The morning after.

Morning.

Reed worked her way into a lazy wakefulness, absorbing the last few hours, and tucking bits away for safekeeping. Jae’s smile as the curtain fell and the crowd rose, applauding; the sound of her name whispered in the night; the utter sense of safety and simple joy that came from just thinking about moments to think about.

Every cliché about love and passion was threatening to float through her mind, and she still couldn’t find a way to express how she felt. It had been a hell of night. A wonderful night. One worth waiting for. Definitely worth repeating. With hope one she’d repeat every night for the rest of her life.

It felt like her whole life had been leading to this one moment. One neverending moment. Giddy, she fought down the giggle that threatened escape. Mushball. Total mushball. For once she didn’t argue with the inner voice, agreeing completely.

Under her ear, she could hear the steady rhythm kept by Jae’s heart. Slow and even, it bespoke the same peaceful lassitude that held her in its grip. She never wanted to move. Her bladder had other ideas, body torn between its needs, and its desires. Desire was winning.

She snuggled deeper, ignoring the start of the day for as long as possible. It was nice to be held. One hand tentatively rested above Jae’s navel, fingers playing with the edge of the depression. She wondered what would happen if she were to kiss the same spot that her thumb was lazily exploring. Or maybe, if she moved her neck a fraction and took one crinkled brown areola into her mouth, nipping gently with her teeth. Jae, it turned out liked to be bitten lightly. Nervous, she’d accidentally nipped the sensitive flesh with her teeth and had nearly panicked when Jae suddenly arched in response.

She smiled at the memory, her own body not nearly as reactive as her partner’s. It was, fairly demanding though, and she gave in, carefully untangling from her willing human mattress in order to pad off to the bathroom. After all there are no rules about how many times you can get up.

Jae’s perfume clung to her skin, the scent triggering another image from the night before. Radiant. That was the word she’d been looking for as she watched Jae make her way up the red carpet. Radiant.

She still looked radiant. For a minute Reed did nothing but watch Jae sleep, soaking in every detail. It had always been the other way around with Jae watching over her troubled slumber. A muted thud outside the hotel room door distracted her, and she listened for a moment. Morning paper.

Reed opened the door, not giving a damn about who might walk by, and scooped up the newspaper. With the heel of her left foot she shut the door, and unfolded the paper. Front page. Slow news day in Miami. Ah. Local angle.

"Is it bad?" Jae had woken, and was half sitting up, half reclining on her elbows.

If she hadn’t heard the nervous fear in Jae’s voice, she would have teased the director and maybe later she would. But not now. "It’s a pretty good picture of Holly actually." Reed read the headline aloud. "Local Writer’s Movie Takes City by Storm." Now that’s original. I could have predicted something like that. "See story page A5." She passed the paper over, settling back on the bed next to Jae, who passed it back.

"I can’t. Read it for me? Please."

She nodded, her voice unconsciously taking on a fuller quality, the timbre approximating a professional anchor. "I learned last night that there are two kinds of mush-filled movies and that I like mush - served correctly. There is the kind which dishes up shameless sentimentality that masquerades as epic romance - the story and the director beating the hapless audience over the head with the message ‘Love Conquers All’ - a la ‘Sleepless In Seattle’. Then there are the movies that show us. Adapted from the novel of the same name by local writer Holly Wulfenden, ‘Tropical Storm’ is a shining example of the latter. Acclaimed independent film director Jae Cavanaugh brings the same understated elegance to this film that garnered her Sundance’s top prize last year, wringing subtle and powerful performances from her leads." She scanned the rest, glossing over comments about her own performance, grinning as she read the final line. "Oh yeah, and I forgot, Dar and Kerry both happen to be women."

Jae just sat, eyes shut, unmoving, looking a little shell shocked.

"You did it."

"We did it." There was a light in the green eyes that almost danced.

Leaning forward she kissed Jae’s cheeks, suspecting they were tears of joy. They tasted faintly of salt, tinged with something undefinable but that was all Jae. She never quite let her lips touch Jae’s, teasing them both.

A sharp knock interrupted the moment.

"Who the hell?"

"Ignore it." Jae moved a fraction and their lips met hungrily.

The pounding increased. Reed tugged on a white shirt that had been hanging over a chairback and opened the door. "There’s a pile of presents out here." She moved a large gift basket into the room, then stepped into the hallway to slide the other packages into the room with her feet, while snagging the champagne and ice bucket with her free hand.

The largest one was passed onto Jae, while she busied herself pulling the cellophane from the basket. Cheese, some fruit: strawberries and grapes mostly, along with an impressive array of chocolates. A little more poking revealed a few other small brightly wrapped packages, one of which bore the distinctive aroma of truffles. Promising. Definitely promising.

"I’m going to kill her."

Reed looked up, fumbling with a box. "Who?"

"Caitlynn. She and Thom are sooo dead." A white cardboard box proudly advertised that Jae was now the proud owner of a deluxe toaster oven.

"How sweet. Our first appliance."

"Laugh it up. But knowing Holly’s sense of humour I’d be careful how you open your packages."

Reed shook her head, "Scott-free," showing as she spoke, the chocolate covered strawberries nestled in the box, then blushed as she read the card. Try dipping them. H.

"Scott-free, hunh?" Jae had stood and was running a finger down the side of her jaw, following the blush downward.

Dragging one of the coated berries across lips nearly the same shade, Reed was acutely conscious of how rapidly her heart had begun to beat. A simple touch, a little proximity, and those beautiful eyes smiling into hers was all it took. "Look on the bright side - we won’t have to leave the room anytime soon."

"Umm. Maybe I ought to promote her again then."

That was the last coherent thing either of them said for a long time.

When she woke again, Jae lazily ran her fingers through Reed’s hair, occasionally holding it up and studying the way the light played on the chestnut strands. It had taken some getting used to; she’d grown accustomed to seeing Reed with almost inky black hair. Smiling, she decided she liked it. The subtle play of red and brown was fascinating, almost as fascinating as the woman herself.

That wasn’t the only thing that was going to take some getting used to.

Reed was lying, half on her, half on the bed, the taller woman a surprisingly good fit against her chest. The height difference kept the less fleshy parts of their anatomy from bruising each other and allowed them to fit snugly together. It was one more thing she found she liked. A lot.

More than a lot.

It had been a night and a morning of discovery - for both of them, and Jae wasn’t sure who had learned more.

She changed the pattern her fingers had been making, moving to trace the faint spread of scars that splayed out from around Reed’s abdomen. They were beautiful, each one part of the woman she held.

"Mmm. Good morning again." Reed’s voice was husky with sleep.

"Good morning." She stilled the motion of her fingers.

"Don’t stop." The plea was accompanied by a kiss.

"Never." Encouraged, Jae played over a larger area, still fascinated by the faint white lines. Studying the slight dips and pale skin, she realized they were stretch marks, left behind after Rio was born. She let her hand rest on the slightly rounded flesh, the extra weight Reed had gained making her look in life as healthy as she did on film.

She shivered as her own skin was languidly explored. No more words were spoken; none were needed. A mole peeking past the edge of the cotton covering Reed’s right shoulder caught her attention, and she moved her mouth to kiss it.

Scars, moles, the edges of muscles, skin, flats of bones, wisps of hair - each sensitive spot burned itself into her memory, even as they all ran together, subsumed by the growing urgency to their explorations.

Taste joined touch, melded by soft whimpers and exhalations into a completely new sense.

… Epilogue …

Rio ran into the kitchen, nearly tripping over Jae, who made a startled squawk as she leaped away from his mother.

Grownups.

They were worse than Uncle Geoff and Aunt Heidi.

What’d they think he was? A baby? He knew what kissing was. Oh well, if it would make them feel better he’d pretend he hadn’t seen anything.

Besides if they really wanted to keep stuff a secret, they should probably shut the windows.

He grabbed a cookie from the jar and thundered back outside, he had a couple of more scenes he wanted to shoot. "Bye mum."

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