Title: Disconnected

Author: Pink Rabbit Productions

Email: Yes, please. Feedback welcome and encouraged be it good, bad, or indifferent.

Disclaimer: Yes, this includes all female prurient type stuff. Gonna be offended, run away, please for all of our sakes. Offending you doesn’t please me. I don’t enjoy it, so go away. Likewise, if reading my work is going to get you tossed in jail. I like to think I’m a reasonable writer, but nobody is that good. Also, if you’re underage (which might get me tossed in jail), please wait until you’ve passed whatever age is legally acceptable in your neck of the woods to read this. I would not do well in jail as I am an utter and complete coward, and while being locked in with nothing but women has some theoretical appeal, I just don’t think I’d do well with the criminal element. Also the lack of computer time would seriously affect my mood. So let’s just avoid the whole scenario. For those of you likely to freak over spoilers, you’re in luck. There aren’t any. If you’re looking for Baggie Bonding, there’s none of that either, though the Maggot will be mentioned and might even show up in a scene or two. Plot? Oh, who knows, if I’m feeling inspired, I might include one. I will warn you that I’m thinking of trying (yet another) experiment with this one in terms of process, so I may sort of end up posting it virtually a scene at a time (I’m thinking about it). The end result of that would be more frequent posting, but they could easily suck like few things have sucked in the history of suckage if that happens because my own worst instincts might well get away from me before I can keep it from happening. I’m just saying....

Also, kind of important author’s note here (which is code for: READ THIS:) I’m not really feeling the Bianca love right now and it’s showing. Not that Binks has become a nasty, backstabbing sort or anything like that, but at the same time, she’s a looooonnnngggg way from perfect, sweet, wholesome, and thoughtful. In short, this is not a sweetsty-sweetsy piece, and she’s not especially admirable...at least at the moment. And I’m thinking I may have to force her to see that fact (I mentioned I’m not much feeling the Binky-Love, right?), and I’m being honest here in saying I barely have a plan where it might lead, and I dunno how far it will even go. I just mention these things because I wouldn’t want to bug anybody or leave them thinking I know what the hell I’m doing.

Oh, and the angst factor here is pumping way higher than my usual tolerance levels will allow. Yeah, I’m a sick puppy.

Disconnected
by Pink Rabbit Productions

Page 2

Pulling her car to a halt, Bianca peered across the dark landscape, a frown touching her brow as she struggled to make sense of the unfamiliar shadows. She’d been here once before, but it had been daylight then and nearly two years had passed since that day, so while she knew the general layout, she was hardly comfortable with the place.

The Pine Valley P.D. auto impound lot.

The last time she’d been there had been to witness the damage to a car she’d crashed after a drunken attempt to kiss Maggie.

God, it seemed so long ago, almost like another lifetime. She’d been so young and desperate then, romantic notions of love driving her to think that any female who was friendly or looked at her twice might be her one true love. She’d thought it was all so simple; that once she found someone everything would be sunshine and roses all the time, that her life would somehow instantly become simpler rather than more complex.

Hard to believe she’d ever been that young and innocent, or maybe a better phrasing was that inexperienced and stupid.

Bianca leaned her forehead against the steering wheel, taking a moment to gather herself. Finally she straightened, and reached into the backseat to retrieve the flashlight she kept in the car for emergencies.

This definitely qualified as an emergency, if not exactly the type she would have expected to need it for. Hefting the heavy flashlight in one hand, she climbed out into the night air. If need be, it could double as a decent club and she was a little uneasy to be alone in such a quiet place, but desperately in need of answers to the questions plaguing her.

The impound lot was surrounded by chain link fence topped by razor wire, but it was locked up for the night so there was no one to stop her as she walked along the perimeter, shining her light into the open air parking area, watching as the remains of accident after accident were neatly illuminated under the sharply delineated beam.

With each successive wreck, the knot in her stomach grew tighter and tighter while her thoughts spun faster and faster.

If steel and glass could be that fragile, what chance did mere flesh have?

How many of those crushed cars had held equally crushed bodies?

How many had lived, how many had died?

Those thoughts left her shaky legged and nauseous, the sense of human misery hanging over the place almost too much to be borne.

And then her light fell across the battered remains of a once-sleek, black Jaguar and Bianca froze, the only movement the shift of her hand at the wrist as she let the beam play over crushed metal and shattered glass.

The passenger side window was dark as though it had been painted out, but it wasn’t until the flashlight beam fell directly on the glass that she realized it wasn’t black, but rather a rusty shade of brown so thick the light barely penetrated what should have been clear glass.

The nausea only increased as Bianca realized what it was.

Blood.

Unable to bear the sight, she let the beam play on, touching on the hood where the missing front windshield had been draped, the spiderwebbed surface of crushed safety glass reflecting the light like a thousand interlocking prisms. Perversely beautiful, the sight held her rapt even as she realized a fine spattering in that same, chilling shade of brown dotted the inside of the glass on the driver’s side.

More blood.

She wanted to run away and keep running until the image was purged from her mind, but Bianca stepped forward until she was toe to toe with the fence, peering through the wire into the remains of the vehicle. It hurt simply to look at the proof of what had happened to her lover, but she saw it as her penance for her mistakes and failures, her punishment for letting Lena down and sending her into the night to be injured this way.

The driver’s door had been cut away and lay inside the vehicle in the driver’s seat. Even at that distance Bianca could see the crushed steering wheel and hacked seatbelt alongside jagged edges of steel. They’d had to cut Lena out in an effort to prevent the crumpled Jaguar from becoming her coffin. The fact that the other woman had nearly died was suddenly real to her in a visceral way that couldn’t be denied.

The car had rolled. They’d told her that, but now she could see the evidence of it in the damage to the vehicle. Then Lena had hung there, trapped, bleeding, probably scared as hell, maybe even expecting to die like that. Dark eyes slid closed, and Bianca had to fight to keep breathing as her brain insisted on conjuring a mental image to torture her. Human flesh, Lena’s perfectly fine and unbelievably soft, was so frail it was a wonder she’d even survived an accident that could do that kind of damage

The girl shuddered with horror, shying from the images playing in her mind’s eye.

She was still standing there like that, desperately trying not to imagine what Lena must have gone through when a hand landed on her shoulder.

A strangled scream escaping her lips, the young woman spun in place, the flashlight coming up as an impromptu club.

A thick hand came up, ready to block her swing. "Easy," hurried and tense, the words reached her ears even as she realized the newcomer was a police officer, blocky and solid, his hand on his gun. A brief pause, then he spoke again. "Ms. Montgomery?"

Bianca nodded. "M-my uncle is Jackson Montgomery. H-he was the D.A.," she said quickly, her heart beating a staccato rhythm in her chest. "I was just...I mean...." With no adequate explanation for what she was doing there, she fell silent.

He looked past her at the impound yard, then his eyes swung back. "I know who you are, Ma’am," he said softly, the suspicious note melting away to be replaced by a sympathetic one. He removed his hand from his gun, relaxing fractionally and threw another quick glance at the yard.

"You’re Officer Lyman, right?" Bianca mumbled unsteadily as his name came back to her.

Nodding, he looked at her again. "You really shouldn’t be out here alone, Ms. Montgomery. It could be dangerous." He nodded to indicate the impound lot. "We occasionally have break-ins...thieves raiding the cars."

"Oh," she exhaled. She hadn’t thought of that. "It never occurred to me. I just...I know this probably seems pretty weird, but a friend was in an accident and I just needed to see her car...what happened."

Again his eyes slid past her, and he drew a small flashlight off his belt, shining it into the yard to touch on the ruined Jaguar. "Ms. Kundera," he said very softly when he finally spoke.

Surprised that he knew, Bianca nodded jerkily.

"Nasty accident," Lyman added.

"W-were you there?" Bianca whispered, wanting the details and yet uncertain she could bear to hear them if the answer was yes.

"No...but I heard about it," he answered, his tone that of someone who’d seen too many such accidents and knew what they entailed.

Relieved and disappointed at the same time, she quietly asked, "Do you know what happened?"

A long, uncomfortable silence followed and she had the sense he was debating his answer. "It was rainy," he said at last, reciting the details almost matter-of-factly. "She was driving too fast, something happened, and her car rolled." He nodded to indicate the bashed-in door. "It landed on the passenger’s side in a ditch. They figure it was a couple of hours before she was found."

The nausea was back in full force as Bianca’s head swam, her brain doing far too good a job at conjuring what it must have been like for her former lover. "It must have been awful for her," she breathed, barely able to force the words past the tightness in her throat and chest.

Broad shoulders rose then sagged in a helpless shrug. There was really nothing to say to that so he didn’t try. "Why don’t I walk you back to your car," the officer suggested gently when he finally spoke again.

Torn between the need to stay right where she was---as though staring at the wreck of Lena’s car could somehow atone for her sins---and the profound desire to run and never look back, Bianca froze, uncertain what to do.

Officer Lyman seemed to understand her inner turmoil because his voice softened to little more than a coaxing murmur. "There’s nothing you can do for her out here." His light played over the crushed Jaguar again, drawing her eyes back to the wrecked car. "And looking at that? All that does is make everything seem worse." He looked at Bianca again. "Go home, okay?"

Bianca did a slow turn, staring at the wreck of Lena’s car.

"Don’t make me make it official, Ms. Montgomery," Sean Lyman pleaded. The last thing he wanted to do was make things any rougher for Jackson Montgomery’s niece. He liked and respected Montgomery and hated what had happened to the young woman in front of him. However, he couldn’t let her stay at the impound lot alone in the dead of night, and he had other duties to attend to. "You have to leave...now."

Looking back over her shoulder, she saw the determination in his eyes and nodded slowly, accepting that it was time to go. "Yeah, I know," she admitted. After one last long look at the destroyed Jaguar, silently imprinting the image on her memory, she turned away from the fence offering a wan smile. "Don’t worry. I’ll go."

"Drive carefully," the officer murmured as he fell in step beside her. He saw her to her car, then remained where he was until she’d pulled away, his expression sad and sympathetic. "Poor kid," Sean Lyman murmured as he watched her car disappear into the night. He glanced back toward the barely visible shadow of the crumpled Jaguar, then finally shook his head and made his way back to his own car. Pathetic as it all was, he had other duties to see to.

* * * * * *

"Thanks for staying late, Mrs. Timmons," Bianca said as she watched Tyler’s nanny retrieved her bag preparatory to leaving for the night.

The older woman turned and peered at her young employer, noting her sunken eyes and distinct pallor. The poor girl. She was so young for the responsibilities she’d been saddled with, and it often seemed as though she was simply hit with one tragedy after another. "Did you see your friend in the hospital?" she asked gently, careful not to let on how much she’d guessed about Bianca’s relationship with Lena Kundera. Spending as much time as she did in the young woman’s home, she’d seen the signs; the clothes accidentally left behind, the silk robe that Ms. Montgomery never wore, yet which was clearly in use by someone, Ms. Kundera’s car pulling away once, the jotted notes, and phone numbers on the caller I.D. She was discrete of course, never mentioning what she’d seen to her employer or anyone else. If Ms. Montgomery wanted her to know, she’d speak up. In the meantime, she could only offer whatever support was possible.

Bianca nodded stiffly. "Yeah," she whispered, her voice threatening to crack.

"Oh, I almost forgot," the nanny said abruptly and grabbed a piece of paper off a nearby end table. "A Dr. Grey called for you just a little while ago...asked that you call her as soon as you get in."

Any remaining traces of color drained from Bianca’s face, her breath suddenly short and ragged. She stared at the paper in the nanny’s outstretched hand, frozen in place, too scared to reach out and take it. After the way Dr. Grey had thrown her out, the only reason she could imagine her calling now was---

"She said it was nothing for you to worry about," the older woman broke in on Bianca’s tortured thoughts, "that there’s no problem with...with your friend," she added haltingly, hoping to banish the terror she’d unintentionally triggered. She reached out, laying a gentle hand on Bianca’s forearm, her tone reassuring. "Dr. Grey said it was just something she needs to ask you."

Her hand trembling, Bianca took the number. "Thanks," she whispered, the paper rattling gently in her hand as the adrenaline rush swept on past and left her shaking in its wake. Dr. Grey had said there was no problem. She wouldn’t lie about something like that. Lena was okay. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly in an effort to calm herself as she mentally repeated that mantra over and over. Lena was okay. Maria probably just wanted to give her another dressing down and warning not to show up at the hospital again, but she could live with that so long as Lena was okay.

Seeing the way her employer reacted, the nanny offered a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "Why don’t you call your sister and ask her to spend the night," she suggested gently, not liking the idea of leaving the girl alone when she was so obviously upset, especially if there was any chance that Maria’s news wasn’t so good after all. "I’m sure she’d be happy to."

Bianca shook her head, staring down at the paper clutched tightly in her hand. Even though Kendall knew about her relationship with Lena she didn’t want her there when she called Maria back. It was just too private. "No." She looked up, her expression as neutral as she could make it. Seeing the worry in her nanny’s eyes, she forced a smile. "Really, I’m okay. It’s just been a long day."

"I could stay a little longer if you’d like," the older woman offered on impulse, hating the idea of the young woman facing whatever lay ahead completely alone.

Shaking her head, Bianca waved that idea off. "No, you’ve already stayed a lot later than normal. I’m fine." She held up the paper with Maria’s number on it. "I’m sure this is nothing to worry about."

The older woman didn’t entirely believe Bianca, but it wasn’t like there was much she could do to argue. "If you’re certain," she said hesitantly.

This time Bianca’s smile was genuinely affectionate, the older woman’s caring reminding her of her grandmother in a way that chased off the internal chill just a little. "Really, I’m fine. You go on home."

A short time later, Bianca closed the door in her nanny’s wake, pausing momentarily after she finished locking up to catch her breath and try to calm her nerves.

Finally, she found the phone and a seat, paused another moment, once again trying to calm her nerves. She stared at the handset. Maybe she should have had Mrs. Timmons stay or called Kendall.

Neither of them would have judged her for still caring about Lena. Kendall wanted her to pursue the relationship, and Mrs. Timmons was one of the few people around who never offered even the vaguest criticism when her name came up. In fact her only comments on Lena had been sympathetic about the choices she’d been forced to make to protect her mother. Maybe she should—

Bianca cut that thought off. Who was she kidding? No matter what she should do or how good it might feel to have a little support, she couldn’t stomach the idea of letting anyone see her emotions when it came to her former lover. She didn’t even pretend to know why, but she simply couldn’t open up that part of her life. Better to create the illusion that any sexual or romantic feelings were dead now, that she was just sister, daughter, mother---anything but partner or lover. The thought made her sick and ashamed, and she hated herself for it, but she didn’t know how to get past it.

And now wasn’t the time for going there, Bianca reminded herself. She looked down at the phone clutched tightly in white knuckled fingers.

No, she was on her own. Whatever Maria wanted to say, she had to face it alone

And now it was time to do just that. No more delays.

Her heart in her throat, Bianca ran her thumb over the keypad, dialing Maria’s number, then fought to breathe while she listened to the phone ring on the other end.

"It’s Bianca Montgomery," Bianca gasped, nervousness making the words coming in a quick tumble of syllables. "I just got in and got your message."

"Hi, Bianca," Maria said. "Thanks for calling me back."

A momentary pause followed and Bianca blurted into the silence, "Is she okay?"

"She’s fine," Maria quickly assured her, then paused again, leaving Bianca with the sense that she was choosing her words carefully. "In fact that’s why I called. After you left she had a lot of questions...about you. I tried to change the subject, but she wouldn’t let it drop."

Bianca tensed, her voice a tight rasp as she asked, "What did you tell her?" Knowing how angry Maria had been and the way Lena’s family felt about her, she didn’t quite know what to expect or even what to hope for, the whole truth or a pleasant fabrication. Either answer had its benefits and its drawbacks.

"I told her that you and she were involved," Maria explained haltingly. "Past tense...no more than that. I don’t think she’s ready to hear the rest of it...not yet." Another pause. "I thought you should know."

Her skin breaking out in a cold sweat, Bianca concentrated on keeping her voice as smooth as possible. "Is that all?"

"No," Maria admitted. Another long pause had Bianca close to screaming in frustration. "She wants to see you."

A startled gasp escaped the girl’s throat as she was torn between terror and relief. "Does she remember anything...I mean, about me?"

Her emotions still a confusing turmoil, Bianca clutched the phone more tightly. "But she still wants to see me?"

"Yes. I think she’s hoping it will help with her memory...or maybe she’s just...." Maria trailed off.

"What?" Bianca prompted a little desperately.

"I don’t know," Maria sighed. "She didn’t tell me. All I can know is she wants to see you---"

"I’ll just call my sister to look after Tyler and be right there," Bianca began.

"Not tonight," Maria interrupted the younger woman’s plans. "And not anytime you might run into her family." Her voice took on a firm, almost parental note and she pronounced each word slowly and carefully to drive her point home. "They can’t deal with you."

"B-but..."

"Whatever," Bianca said quickly. "I’ll do whatever you want. I just want to see her."

Maria’s grim tone softened. "I know," she allowed. "Go ahead and give me your cell number. I’ll call you and let you know when you can come."

"Thank you," Bianca choked, then read off the numbers, her mind awhirl with what Maria had told her. Lena wanted to see her. A little of the agonizing terror let go somewhere deep inside allowing her to breathe a little more easily than she had since first learning of the accident.

"One thing," the doctor warned her.

"Anything," Bianca instantly promised.

Bianca swallowed hard. "Don’t worry," she assured the doctor. "I won’t tell her anything about any of that." No sacrifice there. She’d just as soon forget it all anyway.

"Just so you understand, not one word."

"Not one," Bianca confirmed.

"Okay," Maria said. "I’ll call you when it’s time."

After that they made their farewells, and Bianca hung up, well aware of the silence surrounding her and missing Lena’s late night presence more than she knew how to express. The house was too large and overwhelming, full of dark corners and hidden spaces that left her feeling small and alone. Lena had been there so many times to nurse her through the times like this, touching her, making love to her, then, when they were both spent, holding her as long as she would allow it. She would have given anything to feel that cared for and protected once again. Finally, she stumbled up the stairs, taking a moment to check on her son before stripping off her clothes and grabbing a fast shower. Her skin and hair still damp, she rifled through her closet, pausing as she came to Lena’s robe, the only garment she consistently left over. Without thinking, Bianca slid it on, wrapping it around herself, her lover’s perfume still clinging to the finely woven silk and making her feel a little less alone. Still wearing it, she climbed into bed and pulled the sheets up over herself.

It would be a long time before sleep came.

* * * * * *

David Hayward took a long swallow of beer, his throat still burning from the vodka chaser, though the alcohol did nothing to blunt the raw guilt burning in his belly as he thought about Erica’s message on his voice mail. Bianca knew about Lena’s accident.

And she was still in love with the Polish woman.

Christ, he should never have let Erica talk him into keeping his mouth shut. He didn’t like Lena Kundera, considered her a coward for her suicide attempt, and tended to agree with his cousin Maggie’s assertions that she was just in it for herself, but she’d been Bianca’s lover and Bianca should have heard about her accident in a controlled situation from people who cared about her and could help her deal with the news. They all should have been there to protect her and take care of her, not let her stumble into something she wasn’t prepared for.

He took another swallow.

So now Bianca knew, and however she’d found out, it had all gone badly. Big surprise that. Secrets never stayed secret long, and they were never revealed in the way you would have wanted. No, they always came out with the maximum amount of pain for all involved. If he’d learned anything in his life, he’d learned that much. Pity he’d let himself be talked into forgetting it because now Bianca got to pay for that mistake.

"Knew we should’ve told her," he muttered to himself between swallows, nearly eaten alive with guilt as he thought about the young woman. The irony that he should finally be discovering that lying didn’t help didn’t escape him even as he had a few more swallows of beer and another shot glass of vodka, the alcohol nowhere near as comforting as he’d hoped it would be.

Looking down at his mug, he noted it was nearly empty and waved to the bartender for another. It probably wasn’t the best time to get well and truly drunk, but he thought maybe he’d do it anyway. He glanced at his watch. He still had a few minutes left anyway, and facing Erica sober suddenly didn’t seem like all that good an idea. Being clear headed wasn’t likely to make things any better, but being drunk might blunt the pain a little.

The world was just starting to get pleasantly blurry when a hand landed lightly on his shoulder and a delicate figure perched on the neighboring stool.

"David," Erica said breathlessly. "Thank you for agreeing to see me."

He shrugged, peering peered intently into his mug as though perhaps it held the answers to life’s problems. "I’m here, Erica, but I don’t see what good it’ll do." No matter what they did now Lena would still be in the hospital, Bianca would still be hurting, and he would still be a lying scumbag. Wasn’t it amazing that no matter how much things changed, they always stayed the same?

"It’s just that...well...we haven’t spoken since that night," Erica began, the words coming in staccato bursts.

David glanced over, his eyes a little unfocused as they ran over her perfectly coifed figure. She was nervous and upset and trying to cover it without much success. "Don’t worry," he drawled, his tone wry. "Nobody knows where you were that night...or who you were with." He’d avoided her since then, his emotions over their clandestine coupling going from a sense of triumph at having cuckolded Jackson Montgomery to a definite sense that he’d risked hurting a lot of people for a few hours that meant nothing.

Erica stiffened, her eyes darting around, making certain there was no one close enough to overhear his comments. She kept her voice as low as possible while still making herself heard. "David, I don’t mean that. I know you wouldn’t tell anyone." Despite her attempt to sound confident, she stumbled over the words, stuttering ever so slightly. She lowered her voice another notch as she continued. "I was just wondering if anyone knows about you...that you were there that night."

He gained a moment’s time by taking a swallow of beer, then carefully set his mug down, his hands no longer their normal rock steady. "The paramedics saw me," he admitted, took another draught, then continued, "I don’t know if any of them recognized me though. It was too crazy...I didn’t give anyone my name, but...." He trailed off thoughtfully. "I live in infamy, so who knows?" He lowered the level of his beer another half inch. "Why? Did Lena remember seeing us?" He was startled when Erica didn’t immediately answer, and he finally looked over, startled to see how pale she’d grown. "Erica?"

"She doesn’t remember seeing you and I," she assured him, her voice quavering ever so slightly; for once not in that rather manipulative way he’d long since grown used to, but in a genuine show of emotion. She looked down, trailing a fingertip through a few drops of condensation left on the bar by whoever had previously sat on her stool. "She doesn’t remember any of us."

A hint of a frown touched David’s brow. "What are you...." His voice faded as he remembered the shot. He thought he’d overcome that flaw in the formula. "Amnesia," he exhaled as though he’d been gut punched. Oh god, what had he done? "Does she..." he didn’t finish the question.

Her mouth twitching into a brittle parody of a smile, Erica stared at her own reflection in the polished surface of the bar. "Apparently it’s not complete," she told him. "She at least knows who she is, but she’s missing the last several years of her life...." She continued to stare at that shadowy version of herself reflected in glassy dark wood, hunting for some sign of the monster her daughter apparently thought her to be. "...including Bianca...and everything that happened between them. And Bianca hates me for it...blames me...." The short sharp syllables gave way mid-sentence to a pathetic, very unEricalike dullness. A long moment passed, then finally she looked at David, her voice eerily flat. "She thinks I wanted Lena dead."

Remembering the way Erica had tried to comfort Lena, talking to her, trying to soothe the frightened, dazed woman, her tone and touch as gentle as she knew how to make them, he shook his head, denying that possibility. "No...you didn’t. I know that." Reaching out, he drew Erica’s head up and around until their eyes met. "I saw the way you took care of her that night...the way you comforted her. You did everything you could for her."

Dark eyes slid closed, Erica’s expression stricken. "I can’t exactly brag about that to Bianca, now can I?"

Reminded of the cost of their decisions, David doubled over, elbows braced on the bar, his head down, hair falling across his brow. "We shouldn’t have lied," he informed no one in particular.

"What else could we do?" Erica demanded.

A soft, ironic laugh escaped David’s lips. "Tell the truth?"

She stared at him as though he’d lost his mind.

And maybe he had, David thought with more than a little irony, if he thought either was one of them was going to take the straight and narrow at this late date in their lives.

"That would have just caused more pain," Erica snapped when she finally spoke, suddenly impatient with David’s need to wallow in whatever it was he was wallowing in.

"As opposed to what lying did," he snorted derisively.

A flinch shook the woman and she took a deep breath to steady her nerves. "Whatever we should or shouldn’t have done, it’s too late to change it now," she hissed. "We made our decisions---"

"And once more Bianca suffers for them," David sighed, head coming up as he ran his hair back from his brow.

Erica flinched again. "And that’s my fault," she said very softly, "but what’s done is done. Trying to change it now will only make things worse."

Dropping his head, David glared at his beer as though it was somehow at fault. "Look, Erica, what do you want from me?" Once he might have enjoyed the intrigue. Not now. Maybe he really was growing up.

Erica swallowed hard, her already precarious self-control momentarily threatening to slip. "Lena was conscious some of the time---"

"But hardly coherent," David muttered.

"But if her she remembers...if her memory comes back and she tells Bianca...." Her eyes were wide, desperate. "David, I was supposed to be at home alone that night." And they both knew where she’d been and what she’d been doing instead. Not at home and definitely not alone. If Bianca or Jackson ever found out, she stood to lose everything.

Closing his eyes to block her out, he shook his head. "What do you want me to do, Erica," he murmured, tired of it all and sliding into extreme sarcasm, "sneak into the hospital and smother her with a pillow to make sure she doesn’t talk?"

"Don’t joke," Erica hissed, outraged at his offhanded crack.

His expression serious, he looked at her, simply staring until her gaze broke from his.

"I would never..." she choked out, her voice thick and tremulous. Why couldn’t David and Bianca understand she truly didn’t wish the Polish woman any ill? She was just trying to protect the people she loved. Erica paused, taking a moment to gather herself, then looked up again. No matter her sympathy for Lena Kundera, she had to put her own family’s interests first. David, of all people, had to understand that. "Will she remember what happened?" she asked when she finally spoke again.

He shrugged. "I have no idea," he admitted. With no detailed medical knowledge, no idea the true cause of her amnesia, just his own suppositions, and no idea how much permanent damage might have been done, he couldn’t even begin to answer.

A hint of a frown touched Erica’s brow. "Is there any way you could find out?" she questioned.

"Maybe," he allowed, his tone sliding over into a mix of ironic and frustrated, "if I could examine her and get a look at her records." Seeing the hopeful look in her eyes he shook his head. "Remember, I don’t have hospital privileges. I can’t just waltz in and start going through a patient’s records." She reached out, her hand warm where it rested on his arm. He looked down, staring at the twining of bone and muscle, seeing slender fingers and perfectly painted nails....

And remembering.

"You could find a way, David," she whispered, her voice low and encouraging.

He swallowed hard then reached down and carefully removed her hand from his arm, the look in his eyes hardening. That night had been pure impulse, a matter of comfort and the need to chase out some very nasty demons, but it had meant something. This was simply manipulation. "No."

Desperation driving her, Erica tried again, instinctively going for another line of attack. "What about Bianca?" She saw his expression soften ever so slightly and drove the wedge harder. "This situation could hurt her in so many ways. We need to know what’s going to happen."

David cursed mentally, wishing he could simply walk away. It would make everything so much simpler.

"It’s the best way to protect her," Erica continued when he didn’t respond. "You have to do it...for her sake."

A muscle pulsed in his jaw and he ground his teeth until it was a wonder his molars weren’t powdered. He drained the last of his beer and set the mug down. "I’ll do what I can." Again her hand landed on his arm. This time he made no effort to remove it. Why bother? He’d sold his soul long before. What difference did one more lie, one more scam, one more con make?

"Thank you, David," she said, her voice low and grateful.

The bartender looked his way, and he pointed at the empty shot glass, indicating he wanted another. "I’ll do what I can to protect Bianca," he said softly, then flashed a bleak look Erica’s way. "But if you’ll excuse me, I prefer to drink alone."

Brown eyes reflected Erica’s hurt. "David, I---"

"I plan on getting falling down drunk," David explained with quiet practicality, "and I’m not really in the mood for company while I do so."

"David, I..." Erica began only to trail off as she looked at his stiff, angry profile. Ashamed of her actions, sickened by the bad choices they’d all made, she froze for a long moment. "I just don’t want my mistakes to hurt the people I love," she said at last.

Too late, David thought as he drained a shotglass full of amber liquid the instant it was delivered. He made the mistake of glancing at the woman on the neighboring stool, her pain too real for him to completely dismiss. His shoulders sagged and he leaned more heavily against the bar. "I know," he exhaled, unable to hold back that little bit of absolution for Erica. He might hate what she was asking of him, but he was the one giving way, and god knew, she’d already been through so much.

"Thank you," Erica breathed. She stared at him for a long moment, started to say more only to change her mind. Finally she slipped out without another word.

David waved to the bartender for another drink, and didn’t stop until the bartender and a waitress poured him into a cab.

* * * * * *

Sitting on an MRI table in the lab, Lena was looking very askance at the device. "Didn’t you already do this test?" she exhaled very softly. The memory was foggy, but she distinctly remembered sliding inside that narrow steel chamber where she had been surrounded by a constant din of intimidating sounds while unable to move lest it all start over again, her nails digging into her palms, oxygen feeling in short supply, confused, barely understanding the commands being given to her in English, in constant pain, and scared to death.

And that was the hazy version of events. She shuddered to think of what it might be like completely awake and coherent.

Maria patted her knee lightly. "Yeah, we did," she admitted, feeling bad for putting the woman through it again because she’d had a miserable time of it. Still heavily drugged and claustrophobic into the bargain, she’d barely managed to keep things together. "But this is a little different. We’re going to have you do some things while we’re running the tests...like tap your fingers and answer questions. It lets us get a better look at exactly how you’re brain is functioning."

"Don’t you mean malfunctioning?" Lena muttered darkly, the stress of the ongoing tests and amnesia, not to mention a return to the MRI chamber starting to affect her mood. She was desperately trying to maintain an even keel if only for her mother’s sake, but as the situation stretched out and the tests continued without offering any answers it was getting harder and harder not to panic.

A sympathetic smile curving her lips, Maria shook her head. "It may not be malfunctioning."

That comment earned her a soft snort and a doubtful look.

"What I mean," the doctor felt the need to clarify, "is we don’t really know what’s causing the memory loss. It could be something very minor...shock, stress, the drugs you’ve had since the accident---"

"Brain damage from oxygen deprivation or the blow to the head," Lena whispered, acknowledging the dark fear that everyone had so far carefully avoided mentioning.

Maria paused, then nodded. "Yes," she admitted. Time to face that possibility head on. "But even if that’s the case, it doesn’t mean the damage is permanent or that your memory won’t come back. Aside from a mild concussion, we’ve found no signs of neurological damage."

"But you’re not sure?" Lena whispered as she peered up at the doctor, her fear coming through in spite of her best efforts to hide it. Her best weapon and last refuge when life got rough, her mind had given her a leg up over others, allowing her to climb out of poverty, gain an education, and see the world. Now it wasn’t working right, stripping her of her normal confidence and leaving her feeling naked and vulnerable.

It wasn’t time to lie or try to placate her patient. "No," Maria said, her tone firm, trying to project an aura of confidence as she continued, "which is why I want to run the fMRI. I’m hoping it’ll answer some questions or at least eliminate some possibilities. And if we do find something, it may open up treatment options." She reached out, resting a hand lightly on a narrow shoulder. "My only interest is in seeing you get better...and this is just a tool to try and help do that. Think you can do it?"

Heaving a deep, tired sigh, Lena nodded. She had to trust the doctor knew what she was doing. Surrendering, she swung her legs up onto the table and lay back, lying perfectly passive as Maria adjusted her position in the frame that would help keep her head perfectly still. The doctor was nearly finished when she cleared her throat, drawing Maria’s attention. "You never told me." She was careful to keep her voice low. "Did you manage to arrange a meeting with Bianca Montgomery?" Her mother had been there when she woke that morning, only leaving her alone when the doctor arrived to escort her to the latest round of tests.

Her hands never faltering, Maria looked down, a hint of a frown touching her brow. "I spoke to her," she said hesitantly, carefully tracking her patient’s response. Noting Lena’s fascination with her former lover, she couldn’t help but wonder if it was a sign that whatever was wrong with her was healing allowing her memory to return.

"And?" Lena prompted when the doctor didn’t immediately continue.

Maria sighed softly, wondering how in the hell she’d wound up in the middle of this mess without meaning to. "She wants to see you," she admitted, startled by the leap of relief and something else that felt eerily familiar in Lena’s eyes. It was the same kind of speculative interest she’d once seen in Edmund’s gaze. Not love to be certain, but perhaps the potential for it.

Lena nodded, absorbing Maria’s answer and her lips twitched, not quite turning up into a smile, but teasing as though they might at any moment. "When?" she demanded when she looked up again.

"If your mother leaves early enough...tonight."

Dark eyes slid closed as Lena contemplated that news, abruptly realizing she’d been afraid that the young woman might refuse to see her again. After all, according to Dr. Grey they were no longer a couple. Bianca Montgomery had no reason to agree to see her. "Good," she exhaled after a beat. Maybe this would help her understand why her mind seemed to summon memories of her face and voice at every opportunity as well as the tangled emotions those thoughts invariably engendered. "Thank you for arranging it."

"I doubt it’s going to solve anything," Maria said softly. It wasn’t unusual to see patients latch onto strange ideas or expect miracles where they weren’t likely.

"I realize that," Lena murmured, her expression distant in a way that told Maria she was thinking about Bianca. "But I need to know."

"Know what?" the doctor questioned, wondering if perhaps

"I don’t know," Lena admitted, well aware that she wasn’t making sense, but with no better explanation to give.

Maria doubted anyone else in Pine Valley would have understood that comment, but oddly enough she did. She’d had plenty of those kinds of moments in the months after learning her true identity, but before she’d remembered anything and truly felt like Maria Grey again. "Can I ask you a question?" she said after a beat.

Lena nodded her assent.

"Is it possible you’re starting to remember?" Maria wanted to be prepared if that was the case because Lena wasn’t likely to have an easy time of it once her recent past started coming back.

A long moment passed while Lena considered the question. "I don’t think so," she murmured at last, then shrugged and tapped her temple with two fingers. "But I don’t feel like I’ve forgotten anything, so I don’t know that I’d know." Her voice trembled ever so slightly, a sign of the stress she was under. "I’m sure I don’t remember her though," she said after another pause. She’d searched her memory a dozen times over since meeting the young woman and the only images she could find were from that brief meeting. "But then I don’t even remember ever traveling to the states and yet here I am." She rolled her eyes back, staring at the ceiling. "I don’t know what’s happening...I just can’t stop thinking about her...wondering what it was like...what we were like together."

Once again Maria understood, perhaps better than she would have wished. "Okay," she sighed, not pressing for any more answers. The questions were stressing Lena, and it wasn’t the best time for that, since she still had the fMRI ahead of her. "I hope you learn something that helps," she said honestly, then left any further questions for another time as she quietly explained the procedure in more detail.

Several minutes later, as she slid into the tight confines of the MRI tube, Lena closed her eyes, consciously pushing down the claustrophobic panic. Struggling to think about anything but the close confines and rattling din of sound around her, she found herself going back over her memories of Bianca Montgomery and summoning the memory of a heart shaped face and gentle features. The mental image was a comfort and she held it close even as she followed Maria’s instructions, clinging to the knowledge that the other woman was out there and still cared enough to want to see her. She didn’t know why that was so important to her, but it was, and so she held onto it tightly, silently imagining comforting arms wrapping around her and a gentle voice in her ear.

It chased off the terror a little and let her get through the tests without coming unglued, leaving her to wonder if it had been like that before, if they’d supported each other through other times, shared their strength when life became too much.

She could only hope.

* * * * * *

Maria entered Lena’s room on light feet, her eyes going directly to the figure lying silently in bed, her broken arm propped up on a pillow to raise it above the level of her heart and help keep any swelling at bay. It was a little after nine P.M. and Lena’s mother had left only a little over a half hour before, though not before reminding Maria of her promise not to let "that girl" anywhere near Lena.

A healthy measure of guilt prodded the doctor’s conscience as she remembered that she’d gotten around telling a bald-faced lie by agreeing not to let in anyone that Lena didn’t want to see. Now there was a bit of hair-splitting that any politician was likely to admire, leaving her to think that she really should have stayed out of this one. The problem was she knew and liked Bianca Montgomery, while Lena Kundera had a puppy dog look sure to melt the resolve of the hardest heart.

Then of course, there was the fact that she was the biggest soft touch in the county.

Maria felt a tiny surge of relief as she drew closer to the bed and noted that Lena’s eyes were closed, her breathing slow and even. Good. Maybe they could avoid the subject of Bianca visiting for another night. That would make her life a little easier because she felt like the biggest heel alive for not telling Paulina Kundera her daughter wanted to see her former lover.

The problem was she understood Lena’s desire perhaps better than the woman did herself. Even when she hadn’t remembered Edmund, had resented the way he knew her better than she knew herself, and had nearly hated him for the way he couldn’t let go of the past, there had been a part of her drawn to him. That old chemistry and curiosity had been there in spite of her discomfort with it, and when she looked at Lena she saw that same sense of being drawn to something without quite knowing why.

Unfortunately, there were so many things that Lena didn’t know, so much pain and so much evil, and the poor woman hadn’t a clue. Maybe Paulina Kundera was right in wanting to keep the two women apart. Maria honestly didn’t know.

Which was why it would be a relief if Lena would just sleep the night through and make the whole topic moot for another day or two. Sometimes a little avoidance was a good thing, and at the very least, that would delay any meeting until after Lena was released when it would no longer be Maria’s problem.

She was still musing on the fact that it looked like she’d actually gotten lucky for once when brown eyes slid open, peering blearily up at her. Full lips turned up in a hint of a worn smile. "Doctor Grey," Lena said softly.

So much for luck, Maria thought, though her lips turned up in a hint of a genuinely fond smile. "I saw your mother out," she explained to reassure her patient. It surprised her, but she found she liked Lena Kundera. Soft spoken, thoughtful of the hospital personnel, and polite to a fault, the woman was handling a stressful situation surprisingly well.

"Thank you," Lena said, grateful to the doctor for looking after her mother when she was so alone in a strange country. "I hope you know I appreciate how kind you’ve been to her." Her lips curved into a wry twist. "I know she’s not always the easiest person in the world to deal with...and well...."

"She’s just afraid for her child," Maria replied honestly. "Believe me, I’d be a lot worse if one of my kids was hurt the way you were."

"Well, thank you anyway," Lena reiterated, then glanced away for the briefest moment as she drew in a deep breath, leaving Maria with the impression she was nerving herself up. When she looked up again, she seemed to settle herself, her expression turning deliberately neutral. Most of the time since losing her memory she’d seemed to be fairly open about her emotions, but the doctor was quickly learning to spot those moments when she put a protective wall into place. Though it was often very subtle, this time, it was screamingly obvious that she was trying to appear cool and collected when she was really nervous as hell. "Did you call her like you promised?" she asked.

Maria nodded. "I called Bianca." Despite her better judgment. "She should be here in a few minutes."

Dark eyes slid closed and a tiny, shuddery gasp escaped full lips while Lena’s uninjured hand trembled ever so slightly where it rested on the sheets. She drew in a breath, exhaled slowly, painfully aware of her suddenly racing heartbeat as she found herself wondering if this was such a good idea. She didn’t remember the woman, and according to Dr. Grey, they were no longer a couple. Perhaps the sense that she needed to see her again was nothing but a crossed signal in a very confused brain.

Seeing her patient’s obvious fear and confusion, Maria felt the need to remind her, "You know, if this is too much...if you’re not ready to see her, it’s not too late." Despite being torn between understanding what Lena was going through and some very real worries about the possible ramifications of this meeting, her primary concern was her patient’s health---both mental and physical. "I can still tell Bianca you’re not strong enough yet."

"No," Lena instantly rejected that option. Whatever her fears, she needed to do this. She swallowed hard, then moistened her lips, struggling to appear calm as she shook her head. "I want to see her," she insisted. "And you said she wants to see me."

Lena’s voice rose at the end in a questioning lilt, and Maria couldn’t deny her the truth and risk crushing the hope she saw in those eyes. Depression was starting to affect her mood. Understandable, but also a possible barrier to her getting better. She needed something to hold onto and if this was it, who was Maria to say otherwise? "She does," she confirmed, though she didn’t let on just how eager Bianca had been. "So I guess we’ll just see how it goes," she sighed, wondering how she’d wound up as the chaperon for the local lovelorn lesbian population.

Lena frowned, taking a moment to dissect the doctor’s words and tone. "You’re planning on staying while she’s here?" she asked when she spoke again.

"That was the plan, yes," Maria answered cautiously. Brown eyes flicked away, a subtle warning to the doctor that she wasn’t going to like the next part.

"I think it would be better if you left us alone," Lena murmured, her gaze coming back to the doctor only after she’d finished.

Oh, this just keeps getting better and better, Maria thought as that pleading, puppy-dog look that had already been her undoing once before was turned her way. "I really don’t think that’s a good idea," she muttered defensively, her determination to keep a tight rein on the situation already starting to slip. After all, she had a pretty good idea what Lena was going through.

Lena took the comment the wrong way, her expression falling, pleading turning to hurt. "Y-you don’t think she’d want to see me alone?"

No way in hell was Maria cruel enough to let the Polish woman think that, especially when she was comfortably certain of Bianca’s wishes, and they didn’t include a chaperon. "That’s not what I meant," she said quickly. Brown eyes continued to reflect Lena’s worries and she found herself wanting to erase that frightened look. "I’m sure Bianca would prefer that I wasn’t here when you meet, but I really think it would be best if I stayed." Bad enough that she was letting Erica Kane’s youngest in when she’d been banished, but to leave her alone with the freedom to say whatever she wanted? No, that was not a good idea.

"Why?" Lena asked, hurt sliding over into confusion with quicksilver speed. "Do you think she’d hurt me in some way?" As far as she could tell, the doctor’s hesitance made no sense unless she was afraid of something bad happening.

"Of course not," Maria instantly dismissed that possibility. Whatever lay between those two, she wasn’t worried about Bianca intentionally harming Lena in any way. "It’s just that...it’s...I just think it would be best," she sighed. There was little else she could say without explaining far more of Lena’s recent history than she had any intention of doing.

Lena wasn’t in the mood to be put off. "I don’t understand why," she said, peering at her doctor closely. More than once since waking in the ICU she’d had the feeling that people were hiding things from her, that there were secrets her mother and the doctor didn’t want her to learn. "Are you keeping something from me?"

Maria froze for the briefest second, then shook her head. "No, of course not. It’s just that you’re my patient and just a couple of days ago, you were in the ICU, seizing...and seeing your ex...even if you don’t remember her...I’m just afraid it could get a little intense." It wasn’t the best explanation since she was making it up on the fly, but Lena appeared to be buying it. "Your health is still fragile and I just want to make sure you’re okay."

"I understand," Lena murmured, though she was still turning the doctor’s explanation over in her head, not entirely comfortable with it, though it made sense she supposed, "but I’m fine...and I’m sure Ms. Montgomery will call you if there’s a problem," she added with quiet determination, buying the explanation, but apparently not sold on anything else.

"I really think---"

"Alone," Lena said simply.

Maria drew breath to argue, but was interrupted by a soft knock on the door. And that would be....

Bianca Montgomery eased the door open, sticking her head into Lena’s hospital room a little hesitantly. The first thing she saw was wide brown eyes and a nervous smile. Drinking in the sight, Bianca hooked a thumb over her shoulder to indicate the corridor. "I wasn’t sure if I should wait or just come in," she said by way of a question.

"Please," Lena said instantly, "come in."

Bianca found herself nodding and stepping inside. She was aware of Maria, but had eyes only for the woman in the hospital bed.

"Thank you for stopping by, Doctor," Lena said softly, every bit as absorbed as Bianca, "but you don’t need to stay."

As dismissals went it was probably the most polite Maria had ever received. She started to refuse, then saw the stubborn set of Lena’s jaw. Technically, Maria was the one in charge, but she wasn’t going to win this battle---not without a hell of fight. She glanced at Bianca, then back at Lena. "I’ll be close," she said pointedly. "Just hit the call button if you need me." Turning away, she faced Bianca, her expression grim. "Not one word," she mouthed to the young woman in silent caution.

Bianca nodded her understanding and mouthed back, "Not one," her response shielded from Lena’s view by the doctor’s body.

Maria cast a quick glance over her shoulder at her patient, wondering how the hell she’d been so neatly maneuvered when she was supposed to be the one in charge. "Remember, just hit the call button if you need me."

A hint of a smile graced Lena’s mouth. Her answer was directed at the doctor, but her gaze remained locked on the young woman who’d just entered. "I doubt it will be necessary."

The doctor glanced back and forth between her patient and Bianca. The two were simply staring, the energy between them enough to make her feel like she’d evaporated out of existence and no one had seen fit to mention it. "Okay, then," she sighed, accepting that she didn’t belong here. "I’ll check back in a little while." She turned a hard gaze Bianca’s direction, though she doubted the young woman noticed. Her attention was focused elsewhere. "Just be careful and don’t tire her out. She’s already had a long day, and I don’t want to see any complications from this little visit."

"Don’t worry. We’ll keep things quiet," Bianca promised as she tore her eyes away from Lena and did a half turn to show what she hoped was a responsible, serious expression to the doctor. "And I’ll get you if there’s any sign of a problem." Maria nodded and Bianca watched her exit before pivoting back to face Lena, her heart in her throat, still half expecting to find herself facing all that repressed hostility she’d glimpsed the night of Lena’s accident. Instead, the only thing directed her way was a welcoming, if somewhat nervous, smile.

They both froze, back to staring at each other, totally at a loss for words.

Realizing her mouth was hanging open, Bianca snapped it shut, glancing down at her own feet as she tried to jump start her brain. She’d rehearsed so many clever comments, but couldn’t remember a one. She swallowed hard, folding her hands together at the small of her back. Studying Lena carefully from under the cover of thick lashes, she couldn’t miss the nervousness that bordered on actual fear. With Maria’s exit her former lover tensed, suddenly looking like a wild animal ready to bolt at the slightest sound, her eyes wide, muscles taut to the point of quivering faintly. "I was surprised when Maria called and said you wanted to see me," she said after a long moment in what she hoped was a soothing voice.

Abruptly wondering if perhaps she shouldn’t have sent the doctor away, Lena squelched a nervous jump when Bianca spoke. It had suddenly occurred to her that Bianca might well be suspicious or hostile after their last meeting, but she sounded calm and friend enough. "I wasn’t sure you’d come," she admitted when she finally spoke, her eyes dropping to where she was plucking at the sheets with her good hand, "especially after what happened before." A moment of uncomfortable silence passed, then she looked up again, the lost look in her eyes holding Bianca perfectly still, a little afraid of how any movement might be interpreted.

"That doesn’t matter," Bianca responded instantly, keeping her voice low and soothing as though she was speaking to a frightened animal or child.

"I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d stayed away," Lena whispered, watching Bianca carefully in an effort to gauge what she was thinking, whether she was angry or feeling pressured to be there.

"I could never stay away if you needed me," Bianca swore. "Never." She took a careful step forward, watching Lena as she moved. "I’m just grateful that you’re alive and you’re going to be okay."

Lena paled and looked away again, but not before Bianca glimpsed her fear. This time there was no planning or care in the way the younger woman surged forward several steps, her tone urgent, her eyes scared. "You are going to be okay?" she demanded.

Slim shoulders dipped in a helpless shrug. "They’re still running tests," Lena said, her tone echoing her exhaustion with the entire subject. "They don’t seem to know why I can’t remember...so...." Another shrug.

Another hesitant step put Bianca next to the bed and she stared down at Lena, searching out familiar rises and hollows of her face, grateful to see that the cuts and bruises were starting to heal. "B-but you seem okay...I mean, aside from some missing time." Lena’s speech was clear, her eyes focused, and she seemed to track things well. No sign of any of the symptoms Bianca associated with brain damage.

Lena’s head dipped in an uncertain nod. "They keep telling me that there’s no sign of any other damage...or loss of function."

A small tremor shook Bianca as relief swept over her. "That’s good then," she exhaled.

"I suppose," Lena allowed, though it was hard to be very cheerful simply because things weren’t as bad as they could be when her brain wasn’t working the way it should. "I guess they’ll know more when the rest of the test results come in." Her mouth turned up in a wry smile. "Anyway, that’s not why I asked you to come."

Her eyes locked on Lena, Bianca pulled a nearby chair over and sank down into it. "Okay," she said cautiously.

Not knowing what to say, they were silent for a long moment, minds racing as they each struggled to formulate some kind of approach.

Lena tried first. "What happened when you were here before," she said at last, "the way my mother treated you...I’m so sorry about that." Even though she’d already broached the subject only to have it brushed aside, a formal apology seemed like a good opening gambit. And besides, she couldn’t think of anything else to say that didn’t sound slightly insane. Hello, I know you know me, and I don’t remember you, but I feel like I have to see you even though they tell me we aren’t together anymore, just didn’t seem to her like a good way to start a conversation.

"I told you, it doesn’t matter," Bianca assured her former lover with a dismissive wave of one hand. That was the least of her concerns.

"Yes, it does," Lena disagreed. "She shouldn’t have spoken to you that way." She looked down again, embarrassed by her mother’s behavior. Then again, maybe this wasn’t the best of topics. "There are just things she...she doesn’t understand." Definitely not the best of topics.

"Like the idea of two women in love?" Bianca asked gently, eager to simply blame it on that and keep Lena from considering any other possible reasons for the hostility.

Lena nodded, her embarrassment deepening. She couldn’t face Bianca as she quietly confessed. "She thinks such things are wrong...a sin...and that it’s not about love...just sex."

The color draining from her face, Bianca clenched her hands together in her lap to keep from reaching out to her former lover, something twisting tightly inside her in response to Lena’s words. How it must have hurt her to think that Bianca thought of her that way as well. "She said something in Polish," she reminded Lena, not giving herself time to think about things too deeply. "What did she tell you?" she needed to know how much Paulina might have said.

Lena still couldn’t look at Bianca, every word hurting her to speak. "That you cared nothing for me...were only using me. Nothing that matters." Finally, she looked up, her expression sad and lost, giving Bianca no opportunity to speak as she tried to explain, wanting to take away the pain she knew those words had to inflict, but also defend, or at least offer some understanding of her mother’s position. "I told you, she doesn’t understand. She thinks she’s protecting me. That’s why she acted that way." She glanced away, took a breath, then continued. "That’s why I..." she trailed off, the sentence unfinished.

"What?" Bianca prodded, sensing there was something important there that she needed to know.

"It’s nothing," Lena muttered, wishing she’d just remained silent.

"No," Bianca disagreed and shook her head, refusing to be put off. "It’s important. I can tell." So many times Lena had brushed things aside and refused to discuss her past. Not this time. "Talk to me."

Lena was silent for a moment, intensely aware of Bianca’s close perusal. "There was a girl...in Poland," she began at last in halting, uncomfortable syllables, "...when I was in my early teens. My mother found out...and she..." she paused momentarily, her gaze again dropping away, uncertain precisely what she was ashamed of, herself or her mother’s actions. Maybe both. "She was so angry...and so ashamed...so I just threw myself into my studies. It was easier...safer...and I knew I wouldn’t disappoint her that way." Again, she looked up, her eyes open windows to her soul in a way they never had been before, giving Bianca new insight into those old hurts and insecurities that Lena had at most only hinted at. "But I’m sure I’ve told you all of that," she muttered after a short beat.

"No," Bianca exhaled, aching for what Lena must have gone through and at the same time resentful that she’d never discussed it before, "you never did." She looked down, avoiding Lena’s gaze. "You didn’t talk about your past much."

Lena frowned ever so slightly, clearly surprised. "Oh," she exhaled.

Bianca could almost see the gears turning in Lena’s head. She was starting to have doubts and formulate questions. "I think you’d probably gotten past it by the time we were together," she said quickly, not wanting to let her former lover go too far down that path, afraid it would open up topics she couldn’t discuss. She could see the curiosity and discomfort in her former lover’s eyes. "It’s nothing to worry about." A hint of a soothing smile touched her lips.

"I suppose." Lena desperately wanted to ask more questions, but wasn’t certain how well they’d be received, something in the younger woman’s manner warning her off. She drew a breath to ask only to think better of it and leave the words unspoken.

Bianca heard the little hitch in Lena’s breathing and saw the way she started to speak. "What is it?" she encouraged.

"It’s nothing," Lena demurred, afraid of making the other woman uncomfortable or perhaps of learning something she wasn’t ready to hear.

"You started to say something," Bianca disagreed. "Go ahead."

"It was just a question."

"You can ask me anything."

"Dr. Grey said we were no longer a couple," Lena admitted. "I was wondering why." She peered up at Bianca, openly curious.

Momentarily paralyzed, Bianca’s breath caught, trapped in her lungs as she found herself wishing she’d just kept her mouth shut because there was no graceful way to tell that story without revealing things that would cause nothing but grief and doubtless get her banished from Lena’s presence. Dr. Grey had been very clear about avoiding everything to do with Michael Cambias and the last year. She swallowed hard, brain racing as she searched for a way to answer Lena’s question without saying too much. "Stupid misunderstandings," she said at last. "Nothing that mattered." She leaned forward, running her eyes over Lena’s body, taking in the evidence of the accident that could have killed her. "Especially not now." She wanted desperately to touch, to renew some measure of the intense physical connection that had always been such an inherent aspect of their relationship, but was afraid of moving too quickly or overwhelming her former lover.

That barely began to salve Lena’s curiosity. "But it was enough to---"

"We were trying to put things back together," Bianca blurted out. She saw Lena pull up short, her eyes wide. "Nobody knew," she continued quickly. In a way it even felt like the truth, though she suspected Lena might have argued given some of the things she’d said during that last fight. "I mean we weren’t ready to share it with anyone...but we...we were trying...and things...they were moving forward...." She trailed off, quickly running out of poorly planned lies.

Her mouth hanging open, Lena could only stare. "We were keeping it secret?" she questioned when she finally spoke again.

"Yes," Bianca confirmed.

Another beat followed as Lena absorbed that news. Finally, she tipped her chin up, peering seriously at Bianca. "Was it because of my mother...was I hiding it from her?"

The question caught Bianca completely by surprise, and she had no ready response.

"It was, wasn’t it?" Lena whispered when Bianca still hadn’t spoken a moment later. "I made you keep things secret to hide it from her, didn’t I?"

Lena’s interpretation of the situation was so far off that Bianca truly didn’t know how to respond.

Taking her former lover’s silence for affirmation, Lena flinched as though struck. No wonder they’d had problems. She’d probably been so busy trying to keep secrets that Bianca had felt unloved---something Lena instinctively knew wasn’t the case. "That’s it...and you...that’s why we..." she trailed to a halt, then whispered, "It must have made you feel awful---"

"No," Bianca broke in at last, shaking her head as she stammered out a weak denial, "it wasn’t...wasn’t that...that simple---"

Unfortunately, Bianca’s stumbling efforts to put Lena’s fears to rest without actually explaining anything only made things worse, convincing the Polish woman that her worst fears were right on target. "Stop lying. You’re not very good at it," she exhaled heavily, the sorrow in her tone temporarily silencing Bianca. Lena knew about lies. She’d spent most of her life telling one lie or another; to protect her family’s secrets, to protect her mother, to protect herself. Had she hurt Bianca with those lies? The idea sickened her. "Just tell me the truth. I was trying to keep my mother from learning the truth, wasn’t I?" Her voice threatened to crack and she couldn’t look at Bianca. "I probably thought I was protecting her. Since my father died, I...." She didn’t finish, instead dropping her eyes to focus on Bianca. "And I hurt you," she breathed, amazed by how easily she read the other woman’s emotions. Bianca just shook her head, but Lena was certain she’d finally figured out what was going on. "I can see it in your eyes."

"No," Bianca rasped, shaking her head, her voice little more than a ragged shadow of itself.

Lena barely heard the weak protestation. "I’m sorry," she whispered, overwhelmed by the magnitude of what she was sure she’d done. God knew, she’d made similar mistakes before, sublimating her own needs to hide her true nature, avoiding relationships and burying herself in school to escape the fear of being cut off from the only family she had left, determined to make a success of herself as though that would undo all the ugly things in her past. She’d hurt people before, and it seemed clear that she’d done so again. "I’m sure I never meant to hurt you...and I just...god, I’m sorry," she breathed. It was the only thing she could think of to say. "So sorry---"

"Stop apologizing," Bianca burst out sharply enough that Lena flinched and instantly fell silent. Her head down, tears blurring her vision, Bianca didn’t see. "Just stop," she pleaded, her own guilt a hard lash that ripped a fresh stripe across her emotions with each apology Lena wrongly felt the need to offer. All she could think of was that night and the way Lena had stormed off, so angry and hurt.

And it was all her fault. If she just hadn’t let Lena think those things, she wouldn’t have cracked up her car and she wouldn’t have been injured. She’d be fine and not lying in a damned hospital bed.

"But I---" Lena started to whisper.

Lost in her own tortured emotions, Bianca didn’t hear. She shook her head slowly, unable to look at her former lover as she croaked, "You didn’t do anything wrong...nothing...." She rubbed helplessly at the few tears that escaped in spite of her best efforts to contain them.

Bianca’s obvious pain breaking through her own wall of guilt, Lena pulled up short, staring at the young woman with wide eyes as she struggled to understand. "If I hurt you somehow---" She still couldn’t quite believe she wasn’t responsible in some way.

"No," Bianca cut her off. She shook her head, looking up to stare at her former lover through a watery haze. "You didn’t," she rasped. "It was me," the words burst from her lips. "It was my fault." She looked down again, unable to face the clear, innocent gaze directed her way for long. "God, if I hadn’t...." Unable to continue, she choked to a halt.

"What?" Lena questioned when Bianca still hadn’t spoken a long moment later.

Unable to face Lena, Bianca stared resolutely at her hands where they were folded together in her lap. "I told you we were trying to put things back together," she confessed, the words coming in halting, disjointed syllables that rapidly gained momentum, turning word by word into an uncontrolled tumble. "We were together that night...and...and...we argued...it was stupid...but I just...I screwed up...and you went away angry...driving too fast and...you crashed your car...and I...I didn’t even know...you could have died...and I didn’t even know...." She couldn’t continue, the words too hard to speak, and certainly couldn’t look up, too afraid of seeing distrust and hostility return to familiar brown eyes that normally offered so much safety and protection. Tension rippled through the young woman when a warm, remarkably gentle hand suddenly covered her own.

"Bianca," Lena’s voice was low, worried, and innately seductive enough to send a shiver of awareness down the younger woman’s spine despite the difficult situation.

Bianca swallowed hard, barely able to breathe, afraid to let herself hope too much.

"I’m not sure what happened," Lena began carefully, her words unplanned, the only thing she was certain of that the young woman in front of her was no more responsible for her accident than the tooth fairy, "but I am certain that I’m an adult...that I know better than to drive too fast...though one can’t generally tell that by my driving according to several friends." They teased her unmercifully whenever she was able to borrow a car, that she was going to drive to her death one day. Apparently some things hadn’t changed with the passage of a few years. She rubbed the rise of Bianca’s knuckles lightly with her outstretched hand. "Whatever happened before the accident, this isn’t your fault. It’s my doing."

"You don’t understand," Bianca broke in. If Lena just knew the truth, she wouldn’t be so kind and certainly wouldn’t offer any absolution. "I knew you were upset...that I’d hurt you...and I shouldn’t have let you go that night. None of what we were fighting about was important enough to justify your being hurt. If I’d just stopped you, you would have been safe."

"How could you have stopped me from leaving?" Lena demanded gently. "Locked me in a closet?"

"No, of course not," Bianca insisted and wanted to say far more, but unable to explain her own guilt, could only mumble, "but I shouldn’t have let you go the way you did."

"Bianca, I don’t know exactly what happened," Lena sighed, a little startled by her need to alleviate the other woman’s obvious guilt, "but I do know that each of us is responsible for the decisions we make in this life." Unaware of the fresh wave of guilt her innocent words triggered, she continued, "No matter what was said, I’m still the one who drove too fast on wet pavement...at best a foolish choice. That’s not your fault." When Bianca didn’t reply, just stared down their hands, her expression shielded by the fall of her hair, Lena continued, "If you’d had any idea what would happen, would you have stopped me?"

"Of course I would have," Bianca swore as she looked up again, "and if I’d known you were hurt, I would have been here..." her voice faded momentarily, emotion making it hard to speak. "Nothing could have kept me away...nothing." The intensity of her proclamation caught both of them by surprise, and they froze, Lena because of the confusing array of emotions she didn’t quite understand, Bianca because it suddenly came home to her just how true those words were. She doubted herself in so many ways, but she would have been there for Lena if she’d known. For the first time since learning of the accident, she truly believed that. She’d failed Lena in plenty of ways, pushed her away and hurt her, but if she’d known what would happen that night, she would have done anything necessary to protect her, and she would have been there if she’d any idea Lena was hurt.

Held in the trap of those eyes, Lena’s breath caught, her pulse abruptly racing. "Then don’t torment yourself," she whispered. "I certainly don’t blame you."

"Thank you," Bianca croaked, emotion making it hard to speak.

The intensity of the moment enough to leave her breathless, Lena dropped her gaze, brushing Bianca’s hand lightly with her own in a tactile offer of comfort. As she watched, one of Bianca’s hands turned under hers, the lightest of caresses brushing her palm then trailing along her fingertips. Up to that point she hadn’t let herself consider all of the things their relationship had doubtless entailed. In an instant she couldn’t think of anything else. Slender and graceful, those hands had touched her body. She couldn’t remember it, but there was a sort of sensory afterimage, as though the flesh still knew what the mind had forgotten. She glanced up, a tiny shudder making its way through her when she saw Bianca’s expression; intelligent, caring, and full of complexity and the memory of things Lena had no knowledge of.

It was too much.

Overwhelmed and just a little frightened, not of Bianca, but of her own responses, Lena tugged lightly on the hand bound to the other woman’s.

Feeling Lena pull away, Bianca momentarily tightened her hold, not yet ready to release that small physical connection. After everything that had happened, it felt so damn reassuring to simply hold Lena’s hand, feel her warmth and the touch of her skin and know she was alive. Lena continued to pull, becoming uneasy, and slender fingers twisted in Bianca’s grasp in an effort to work their way free. Would another moment bring fear to those eyes? Bianca couldn’t bear that idea and opened her hand, unspeakably bereft when Lena broke the contact and settled her hand on the sheets at her side. Afraid she’d pushed things too far or fast, she tried to apologize. "I’m sorry if I---"

"You didn’t do anything wrong," Lena assured her before she got any further.

Noting the way Lena suddenly wouldn’t look at her, and the way she hunched her shoulders as though she was drawing inside of herself, Bianca was inclined to disagree. "Obviously I’ve made you feel uncomfortable," she pointed out gently.

A small sigh escaped full lips. "It’s all just a little...confusing," Lena admitted, feeling bad about her response, but overwhelmed and a little bewildered all the same. She tried to explain. "I don’t know you...and yet...there are feelings...and when I look at you I can see so much emotion. I don’t know what to do or how to react."

Uncertain what to say or do that might offer some kind of comfort, Bianca could only say, "I can’t imagine what it must be like for you."

Lena finally risked a look at the other woman, strangely soothed by the caring she saw directed her way. "It’s a little frightening," she admitted, the simple act of speaking the words somehow making the fear a little easier for her to bear. "Sometimes it feels like people are looking at me...expecting something...or someone...like they know me and expect me to know things I don’t. And sometimes it feels like there are secrets they’re keeping from...things I should know, but no one will tell me." She’d felt the eyes of the nurses and technicians watching her, sometimes feeling as though conversations were quickly aborted when she entered a room. "I didn’t even know I had a lover. God, what else haven’t I been told?"

Trying to imagine what that would be like, words like raw, exposed, vulnerable coming to mind, Bianca just wanted to wrap Lena in her arms and protect her from anything and everything. At the same time, there was a curious sort of relief. She was talking to Lena, but with all the ugliness and pain between them neatly erased. In spite of the guilt, or perhaps because of it, she could almost pretend none of it had happened, that they were simply innocent lovers separated by an accident and an unsympathetic world. That denial allowed her to quietly ask, "What do you want to know?" and mean it. It wasn’t that she intended to lie, just that the images in her head, and those she intended to share weren’t those darker times.

It took Lena a moment to process Bianca’s offer, and when she did a hint of a frown touched her brow. "Are you sure the doctor would approve?" she asked. Instinct told her that Dr. Grey had probably warned Bianca not to discuss certain topics.

Bianca shrugged. "Maybe not," she allowed, "but I’m not sure that’s important." Seeing a hint of trust returning to dark eyes, she carefully reached out, just barely touching a fine-boned hand. "I can’t answer everything...but maybe I can make things a little easier."

Lena paused, amazed to find that she suddenly couldn’t think of a single question to ask despite the myriad of them that had plagued her since waking in ICU. "I-I guess..." She was tempted to ask about the fight that Bianca felt had driven her out into the night and left so much guilt in its wake, but something held her back. Perhaps just the idea of causing Bianca further pain, or perhaps she was afraid of upsetting the delicate balance they seemed to have achieved. "How did we meet?" she asked the first question she thought of that seemed fairly safe.

Careful to keep her expression neutral, Bianca tried not to let her relief show. Thankfully, Lena had asked something so easily answered without venturing too close to forbidden topics or requiring a lie. "You were applying for a job in my mother’s company."

A hint of a thoughtful frown touched Lena’s brow. She kept forgetting she hadn’t been a student in years."Did I get it?"

"You did."

Lena wasn’t sure how she felt about that. "So I chased the boss’ daughter?" she murmured doubtfully.

"No," Bianca said. "It wasn’t like that. It was..." she paused, then tried again. "I think any chasing was pretty mutual." Lena didn’t know about the bet with Boyd and now hardly seemed like the time to tell her. "We were both pretty fascinated with each other...but it was initially a working relationship. I was trying to learn the business and you were always willing to take the time to explain financial things to me...so we talked and later did things together...sometimes met for breakfast on the way to work...or shared dinner after." A genuine smile curved the young woman’s mouth as she remembered those better times, talking about them reminding her of the genuine pleasure she’d found in the Polish woman’s company. "We had a lot of fun...and over time it became something more." She paused, giving Lena time to absorb her version of events. It might not be the entire truth, but it was still true enough.

"So we were friends first?" Lena murmured when she finally spoke.

Bianca nodded in confirmation. "Uh-huh...though we flirted from the first," she said, a smile teasing her lips as she remembered that first innocent encounter, "but it was awhile before it went beyond that." She didn’t want Lena to think it was something either of them had rushed into.

"You’re younger than I am." It hadn’t really struck Lena at first---she was used to thinking of herself as younger than logic told her she was---but now it did, the realization feeling vaguely uncomfortable as though perhaps she’d done something wrong.

"Yes," Bianca admitted the obvious, "but it never seemed to matter to either of us." Without pausing to consider her actions, she scooted her chair a little closer, peering deeply into Lena’s eyes, relieved to see no signs of rejection, though there was a definite worried cast. "If you’re afraid that you somehow took advantage, you didn’t. Anything between us was completely mutual." Odd how freeing it was to say those words. She’d spent so much time doubting the sincerity of Lena’s emotions, but looking back through a new prism, she could see that genuine attraction far more clearly. It had been there from those first moments in small, subtle ways. Boyd might have been Lena’s target, but in retrospect Bianca had to admit that she’d been the one that Lena had paid attention to, the one who’d caused her voice to take on that inviting note, and who’d drawn her watchful gaze and easy smile. "I wanted," it was tempting to simply say, I wanted you, but Bianca sensed Lena wouldn’t be comfortable with anything that obvious and changed tack mid-sentence, "...to know you better from the first time we met."

Bianca’s brief pause and carefully avoided, but obvious suggestive phrasing sent a shiver coursing through Lena and she looked away, her chest suddenly tight, Bianca’s expression driving home that it very likely hadn’t been a simple, platonic affair. Still, she wasn’t quite certain. The chemistry between them didn’t necessarily mean they’d already followed through on it. Her lips moved, shaping the words, but she had a hard time speaking. She took a fresh breath, tried again. "Are we...I mean...have we...." Embarrassed heat suffusing her cheeks, she stumbled to a halt, unable to gracefully ask the question plaguing her mind.

"Are we lovers? Have we made love?" Bianca finished both questions for her. "Yes." It was that first night she thought back on as she spoke, and the remembered sweetness and passion made her voice throb with emotion. She leaned a little closer, intensely aware of the texture of Lena’s skin where their fingers were just barely touching. "The first time I was hurting and needed you so much...and you were there for me. You held me...made me feel so safe and so cared for...so loved...." Her voice tight with emotion, Bianca trailed off and took a moment to gather herself together before continuing. "No matter what happened, I’ve always felt that way in your arms," she whispered when she finally spoke again. "And I can only hope you’ve found a little bit of that peace with me." It was hard to say the words because it was what she wanted to believe, but at the same time she knew all too well it probably wasn’t the case. It was primarily a lie of omission, but it was one Bianca needed to tell almost as much as she needed Lena to hear it.

Her chest tight and aching, Lena could only stare for a long moment. They’d been intimate. Lovers. Alternately hot and cold, she didn’t quite know what to make of that knowledge, but seeing Bianca’s obvious lack of confidence that her emotions were returned snapped her out of the brief paralysis. Wanting to ease that self doubt, Lena impulsively stroked the hand so close to her own. "I’m sure I did," she whispered to offer some reassurance. "I can’t imagine I’d have..." Uncertain how to phrase what she wanted to say, she verbally stumbled for a beat before finishing, "...have been with you if I didn’t."

It should have been so easy to lie after everything she’d already said, but any simple response died unspoken on the tip of Bianca’s tongue. "Maybe," she said at last, the single word the only thing she could think of that neatly balanced on the dividing line between a lie she couldn’t tell and the truth she couldn’t bear.

Lena stroked Bianca’s hand again, her touch almost too light to be felt. Almost. Dark eyes honed in on and tracked the tiny caress with unerring accuracy.

Her heart running fast, a little frightened by the intensity of the moment, but drawn to it all the same, Lena debated her response, then simply whispered, "I’m sure of it." And she was. She didn’t know what had happened between them, but she couldn’t imagine looking into Bianca Montgomery’s eyes and feeling anything but safe and cared for.

Staring at features that were elegantly striking in spite of any cuts or bruises, Bianca found herself smiling in spite of herself. Even if it was offered in ignorance of the truth, Lena’s absolution meant far more than she could express. "I hope so," she said, not needing to lie this time.

After that they were both silent for a long moment, as though they’d both found some measure of peace in things both spoken and unspoken.

Without the twin pressures of fear and excitement to keep her going, weariness caught up with Lena and she settled more deeply into the mattress, her eyelids growing heavier.

Seeing her former lover’s obvious fatigue, Bianca frowned, worried that perhaps she’d pushed Lena too far and risked her health. "You’re tired," she said softly. "Maybe I should go."

Lena shook her head, catching Bianca’s hand in a surprisingly firm grasp when she seemed about to pull away. "Please, don’t." She wasn’t ready for things to end. Not yet. "Talk to me."

A thrill slid through Bianca. In spite of everything, Lena wanted her to stay, trusted her enough to want to hear more. She’d already said more than she should have---certainly more than Dr. Grey would have preferred---but she didn’t have it in her to refuse the other woman’s request. "What about?" It was risk to ask---Lena could ask a question she couldn’t answer---but she didn’t know what else to do.

It was on the tip of Lena’s tongue to say, ‘Anything.’ Bianca’s voice was comforting, making the world seem less alien and more like she had a place in it, but a little embarrassed by what felt like her own cowardice, she was in no hurry to confess that much. "Tell me about our times together...what we talked about or did...."

In no hurry to leave, Bianca nodded. "Okay." She gave herself a moment to think before she began, the details of better times spilling out in a low, soothing tones. "One of the first times we did something together, we went to a trunk show...then dinner afterward. I don’t think we’d have ever gone home if they hadn’t insisted on closing the restaurant...."

Tired but fascinated, Lena asked an occasional question, but mostly just listened, letting Bianca weave the story around her, comforted by the picture the younger woman painted of a sweet, gentle love affair. It was a relief to hear, squelching her hidden fears that there was some kind of secret everyone was keeping from her. Listening to the younger woman’s voice and hearing the genuine affection in her voice, she realized her worries had been more a matter of paranoia than reality. Waking to find that she was apparently missing five years of her life was a trying experience at best, making it too easy for the brain to seize on the tiniest things and build them into impossible scenarios. God knew, she’d had to fight that temptation, especially when her mother played such secretive games. Bianca’s version of their relationship eased those fears, making it clear that five years hadn’t changed her basic character.

Her eyelids fluttering, sleep hovering at the edges of her consciousness, Lena found herself wondering if the other woman had any idea of the gift she’d given. By simply talking to her and not putting her off, Bianca had chased off the worst of the clinging worries, giving her a new peace of mind. It let her relax for once, instead of fighting the encroaching loss of consciousness. When she settled her hand over Bianca’s it felt completely natural to do so, just like it felt totally natural when Bianca leaned close enough that Lena could feel the warmth of her breath. That soft voice still playing in her ears, she studied the shape of those eyes, then moved on, taking in the rounded curve of jaw and cheeks, the perfect cupid’s bow of pink lips. She’d tasted that mouth not so long ago, and she tried to remember what the sensation must have been like. Had the kisses been soft or firm, quick, or had Bianca’s mouth clung to her own, stretching the contact until they were both moaning and pleading for more?

Soft and clinging. Definitely soft and clinging.

She suddenly realized that Bianca had fallen silent, and was simply staring at her, so close now Lena could see her own reflection in inky black pupils.

"Lena," the younger woman breathed and lifted a hand to tenderly brush her cheek.

Had it always been like this, this overarcing surge of desire and emotion that swept a body up and drove everything else out? Like being caught in a powerful undertow, it left no room for anything else in its wake, and for a moment Lena almost forgot where she was, even who she was. She didn’t feel like she knew this woman, certainly didn’t feel like her lover, and yet she couldn’t deny the potent chemistry that simmered between them.

Then the soft creak of a door, footsteps, and a throat being cleared interrupted the moment.

Maria supposed she should have been surprised to find them like that, absorbed in one another, breath mingling in the scant space between them, only moments from doing something likely to get her killed by Paulina Kundera if the woman ever found out she’d had a hand in it. Oh yeah, those two weren’t likely to let a little thing like a lack of memory keep them from repeating their mistakes. Which was why she got to be the evil adult and break up this little party. "Sorry, kids, but Lena needs her rest." She turned a firm look Bianca’s way. "And it’s time for you to be on your way for the night, Bianca."

Bianca’s expression fell and she rose stiffly, abruptly self-conscious in the wake of Maria’s arrival. "Thank you," she said softly, casting nervous glances at Lena between almost every word, "for making this possible."

"It was what Lena wanted," Maria replied, making it clear that her loyalties lay with her patient.

"Thank you anyway," Bianca said softly. She got the message loud and clear.

Noting the way the Polish woman was watching Bianca, her gaze hungry and curious, Maria was far from certain she’d done the right thing. That sort of look portended continued curiosity of a sort all too likely to be noticed by Paulina Kundera. Given the elder Kundera’s emotions where Bianca was concerned and the lover’s recent past, it seemed entirely too probable that the whole situation would blow up in their faces. So why was it she couldn’t help but root for the two of them just a little?

Oh yeah, she’d been there, just as confused and scared and hopelessly lost as either of them could hope to be, and still somehow found her way back to Edmund. He’d been her anchor, giving her back her life, her family, and her children when she’d thought she might just go mad.

That made it very hard for her to maintain anything approaching neutrality no matter how hard she tried.

She abruptly realized both women were staring expectantly at her and dipped her head in a brief, understanding nod.

Turning back to face Lena, Bianca smiled tenderly. "Dr. Grey’s right. I should be going. I don’t want to tire you out."

Reaching out, Lena just barely brushed Bianca’s fingertips with her own, intensely aware of the brief warmth of the contact. "Thank you for coming...and for...everything."

"I’m just glad you wanted to see me," Bianca whispered in broken syllables, emotion making it hard to speak.

Maria experienced that curious sense of ceasing to exist once again as the two women stared at each other.

"Always," Lena breathed.

Then Maria winked back into existence as Lena flicked a quick glance her way as if seeking approval before saying anything more. Strange as it might seem the doctor knew exactly what her patient was going to say before the words left her mouth.

"Will you come again?"

Then it was Bianca’s turn to remember they weren’t alone as she turned a hopeful gaze her way. Maria drew breath to refuse---one visit was already taking more of a chance than she could ethically justify---only she couldn’t do it. She could see the need they were both struggling with, while Lena seemed more at peace than she had since waking. She was still mentally debating the gap between the dictates of logic and emotion when Bianca decided to take advantage of the situation.

Leaning down, the young woman turned a reassuring smile Lena’s way. "Tomorrow night...after your mother’s gone," she glanced at Maria, "if Doctor Grey will allow it."

Sneaky, very sneaky. Teeth grinding together in frustrated resentment, Maria found herself hit with that pleading, puppy-dog look, only in stereo now. Oh hell. Damn Bianca for putting her in this position. And damn her own inability to be as hard hearted as she ought to be. "All right," she sighed after a beat, surrendering though not especially gracefully. "I’ll call you after Paulina leaves." Besides, she reminded herself, if you don’t help, Bianca will just try to sneak in anyway.

"There you go," Bianca murmured, her attention returning to her former lover. Her gaze touched on full lips and she was incredibly tempted to steal a quick kiss, but it would be a mistake. There had been a moment there when Lena might have allowed it, but that was gone now. "I’ll be back tomorrow night, so until then you just do what the doctors tell you and concentrate on getting better, okay?" Having given up her chance at a kiss, Bianca didn’t miss the opportunity to caress a velvety cheek, just barely brushing her knuckles along the graceful arch, absorbing the texture and warmth of living flesh.

Lena allowed the contact, a small, shy smile making it clear the gesture wasn’t unwelcome. "I’ll do my best," she promised, "but in return I want your promise that you won’t feel guilty for things that aren’t your responsibility, okay?"