Sex: Yup.

Violence: That too.

Angst: Probably.

This story is going to be slightly long, but I promise it´ll be updated frequently. (There´s nothing worse than having to wait, is there?) Okay, since all that´s been taken care of, I´ll just shut up and let the tale begin. Comments are welcome at: dayze11@hotmail.com

Copyright © 1999 by Day

Part 13
Chapter Fifty-Seven

Please, don´t stand too close to me,
Can you hear my heart?

- Marianne Faithfull

April, 2048, the Organisation´s Base near Neo Roma

At the first beep of the alarm, Mickey´s arm shot out, silencing the small clock before it could get properly started. With a deep sigh she slowly rolled onto her back, eyes red from too little sleep staring mindlessly at the ceiling. Stifling a yawn, she then sat up halfway, shivering slightly when the covers slipped down from her chest and exposed her to the cool morning air.

Taking a moment to fully become awake, she turned her head to study the woman fast asleep beside her. It had taken much coaxing and many a whispered word, but finally around four a.m. Jo had managed to fall asleep, free from the nightmares that usually haunted her in the early hours of the morning. At least Mickey hoped she had been free from them, the last few nights she herself had been so completely drained and exhausted when going to bed that she had the unsettling suspicion she might have slept through even the worst of Jo´s nightmares. And she knew without a doubt that Jo would never wake her up if she felt she needed a comforting word or touch. No, as always Jo would curl up on her side and stare out into the darkness of the quarters, silently waiting for the day to dawn and the light to chase her demons away.

This can´t go on, Mickey thought wearily, her gaze resting on Jo´s face, its features now fully relaxed in sleep. It´s been weeks and no improvement. It´s killing her.

She leaned down to place a kiss on Jo´s cheek, then regretfully swung her legs down onto the cold floor.

And it´s killing me, too.

Quietly she walked over to her dresser and began to dress. It took her a little while to find everything she needed, but she didn´t want to switch on any lights out of fear of waking up Jo. Lately, the mere sound of her sighing had been enough to wake Jo from her fitful sleep. Mickey knew it wasn´t only due to Jo´s fear of dreaming that she was having trouble falling asleep, her lover was still in a lot of pain, whether she wanted to admit it or not, and that complicated matters. The light shifting of the mattress Mickey´s movements during the night brought on were painful to Jo who was still healing, but when Mickey had listened to one suppressed gasp of pain too many and had told Jo she would go sleep on the couch, Jo had been adamant that she stayed. She didn´t want to sleep alone she had said, and Mickey knew that was probably as close to hearing Jo say she needed her as she would ever get. At least with the way things were between them for the time being.

Scribbling a quick note to Jo that she would check in on her around noon, if her schedule allowed it, Mickey left the room and stepped outside. Drawing her jacket closer around her, she stood still for a moment, taking in the sight of people quickly moving to and fro various destinations on the base, and soldiers yawning and coughing, talking quietly to each other and absently saluting the officers who went by. It was April, spring had begun, but apparently the gods above had yet to realize that and most people were still sporting winter uniforms and gloves in a vain attempt to keep warm.

Fed up with being cold, Mickey let out an exasperated sigh and started to walk toward the hospital, mentally going over the tasks she would have to do and the patients that needed her attention. However, as always these days, her thoughts drifted back to Jo and subconsciously she slowed her steps, her gaze of its own volition searching out the cluster of buildings that served as the base´s headquarters.

This can´t go on…

Her thoughts from earlier echoed through her mind, causing Mickey to stop completely much to the annoyance of the technician who had been walking directly behind her. Barely managing to avoid walking headfirst into her, he let out a sarcastic "Good morning, Doctor, enjoying the scenery?" which Mickey completely missed, and then proceeded to the weapons arsenal, shaking his head the entire way.

Oblivious to it all, Mickey stared at one single dark window in the main building, indecision written all over her face. Then suddenly the lights went on inside and as if that finally prompted her into action, Mickey began walking, fierce determination slowly driving the uncertainty away.

The soldiers standing guard outside gave her a little nod then lost all interest and nobody tried to stop her from entering. Knowing exactly where she wanted to go, Mickey walked down a nearly deserted corridor until she reached the end, coming to a halt in front of a closed door. Hesitating for just a second, she knocked briskly three times.

Instead of hearing a voice granting her entrance, Mickey heard quick steps approach and the door was opened, revealing a clean shaven but decidedly sleepy looking Vlad.

"Oh… Good morning, Dr. Renault," Vlad spoke in surprise, the usually impeccable aide clearly not expecting to see her. However, he caught himself quickly and took a step back to let her in, "What can I do for you? Everything is all right with Major Delaine, I trust?"

"Yes, Jo´s fine," Mickey replied absently, her eyes already resting on the door to the inner office. Vlad noticed her gaze, but before he could speak, Mickey turned to him and asked, "Is she in?"

Vladimir studied her for about two seconds then said, "Yes, ma´am, she is. She´s been there all night, I just brought her some coffee when you knocked."

Mickey sighed inwardly. She had long ago given up getting the aide to treat her less formally. Her attempts had had some effect when Jo was around, but it seemed that whenever they were alone together he would revert to his old ways and treat her with the utmost politeness and respect. Something Mickey didn´t mind in itself, but had a hard time getting used to, not being in the habit of receiving that kind of treatment when working in the clinic in the Slums.

The thought briefly made her think of Sophia and Lennon who had left for another base just a week prior. Mickey knew very well that medical staff was needed everywhere in the Organisation and that the Lawrences´ themselves had wanted to go, but she still couldn´t help but feel a little sad thinking about them, missing the only family she had ever really felt part of since she lost her own when Lyonne was forced into submission and then practically destroyed. The Council´s trademark way of making an example to deter other cities and citizens of the Realm who might have the audacity to believe they had a right to think for themselves.

That belief had cost Mickey a father, a mother and two brothers, but still people held on to it, secretly but strongly, and only occasionally, only sometimes late at nights when Jo was crying silently in her sleep, Mickey found herself wondering if it really had been worth it all.

And if it still was.

"I would like to see her, does she have time?"

"Um…" Vlad walked around his desk and carefully browsed through the day planner. "Not really. She only has about half an hour to herself before people start coming and she hasn´t had any sleep last night..." He looked up, "Is it important?"

Mickey hesitated, then decided to use the only trump card she had, the one she knew would open any door that stood between her and Messina.

"It is important, it´s about Jo."

Vlad bit his lip, regarding her thoughtfully for a moment, then he let out an inaudible sigh, "Okay, I´ll go ask. Wait here."

He was gone for about a minute then the door to the inner office opened and he reappeared, gesturing that she could step in. "You got twenty minutes," he stated quietly as she walked past him and Mickey nodded in acknowledgement, whispering `thank you´ before the door was closed behind her.

"Doctor Renault," Messina acknowledged with her back turned as she heard the door close. "To what do I owe the pleasure of such an early morning visit?"

Mickey regarded Messina as she quickly and efficiently pulled folders one after another out of a filing cabinet, taking a brief look inside before she with a careless move tossed it onto her desk or returned it to its place in the cabinet. "Well, I´m not sure how to put this," she started hesitantly, "but I think you may be the-."

"How´s Jo?" Messina suddenly turned around to look at her, one eyebrow arched inquiringly.

"Um, well, physically she´s doing a lot better, moves around pretty effortlessly on the crutches now," Mickey informed her, raising an eyebrow of her own. "But of course you would know that if you had been around to see her."

The comment lingered slightly awkwardly in the air between them for a moment, then Messina resolutely closed the filling cabinet and walked to her desk, "I´ve been busy. The world doesn´t come to a halt just because one of my soldiers gets hurt."

"True," Mickey replied noncommittally, "but would it have been too much to ask for you to stop by just once? You know Jo wants to see you."

Messina, who had been about to sit down in her chair, stopped abruptly, staring at Mickey in puzzlement, then she grinned a little, scratching her cheek in amusement, her blue eyes twinkling as they met Mickey´s, "Oh, Doctor, I bet that just killed you having to say that."

Mickey smiled coolly, managing to keep it from shining through how surprised she actually was by Messina´s remark. Anything personal was usually off limit between them, and frankly, Mickey preferred it that way. Taking a seat in the chair opposite Messina´s desk, she said calmly, "I´m nothing if not a realist, Iris, I know perfectly well how important you are to Jo. And trust me," she accepted the cup of coffee the still smiling Messina handed her, "I have absolutely no problems with that."

"Hmm…" Messina studied her for a moment over the brim of her cup, then put it down and said with a smile and a shrug, "Too bad. Okay…" she pulled her chair closer to the desk and Mickey could almost feel how all the cheerfulness and high spirits left her and she became all business. "So you wanted to talk to me about Jo?"

"Yes…" Mickey bit her lip, torn between what she thought was right and her loyalty to Jo. Then she made a decision and said firmly, "I need your help."

"Yes?" Messina regarded her patiently, taking another sip of coffee to keep her hands occupied and stop her from drumming her fingers on the desk.

"Well," Mickey cleared her throat. "As I just said Jo´s health is steadily improving and she´s growing stronger from day to day." She hesitated, then continued, "Physically that is. Mentally things aren´t going so well."

"Go on." The slightly distant look in Messina´s eyes had been replaced by alertness and she subconsciously leaned forward in her chair.

"Jo´s having a hard time dealing with her experiences in prison," Mickey spoke delicately, not wanting to betray Jo anymore than she already felt she was doing and trusting Messina would get her drift. "She doesn´t sleep well at nights and she´s always very guarded and nervous, not just around strangers, but people she knows as well."

Messina nodded to herself and was silent for a moment before asking, "I take it she refuses to discuss it with you?"

"She refuses to discuss it with anybody," Mickey answered with a sigh, unable to completely hide her concern and annoyance. "She has had the sessions required with the psychiatrist attached to the hospital and doesn´t think she needs any more than that."

"And you let her get away with that?" Messina asked incredulously, her brow furrowing. "Doctor, with all due respect, you must know that Jo of all people is not going to-."

"I know!" Mickey interrupted, a little harsher than intended and her frustration showing quite openly. "Believe me, I´m very much tuned into Jo´s way of dealing with things, but what do you want me to do? Drag her there? Lock her up until she agrees to do as I say?" Mickey stared into Messina´s eyes, her gaze holding a clear challenge, but after a few tense seconds she shook her head slowly and spoke quietly, "You know I can´t do that, I won´t do that. Jo doesn´t trust that many people and I´m not going to risk anything by forcing her to do something against her will. I want her to feel relaxed around me, not wonder what I might do next."

"So…" Messina spoke slowly and thoughtfully, realization showing on her face. "That´s why you´re here… To get me to do it for you?"

Spoken out loud, it suddenly sounded so direct, so manipulative, and Mickey was about to explain her motives when she realized that what Messina was suggesting was exactly what she wanted her to do. So instead of beating about the bush she conceded with a nod, elaborating soberly, "If Jo receives a direct order from you to seek help, to get some kind therapy, then she won´t be able to refuse. She´ll be pissed, she´ll make a lot of fuss, but she´ll do it."

Messina fingered with the top button on her uniform pensively for a few moments then interjected in a low and matter-of-fact voice, "She´ll hate me for it."

"No, she won´t," Mickey stated with greater certainty than she felt. "She respects your decisions, even if she doesn´t agree with them, and besides, following orders without questioning is so deeply ingrained into her that she might not even consider objecting."

"I think you´re overestimating my influence on her," Messina spoke dryly, gulping down what was left of her coffee. "Jo has been questioning my orders practically from day one."

"That may be, but she always obeyed them, didn´t she?"

Messina smiled faintly, "That´s because she wasn´t given a choice."

Mickey returned the smile briefly then continued seriously, "She can´t be given a choice in this matter either, Iris, it´s too serious. If she doesn´t start talking about some of the things she has been through then I´m afraid she´ll never function properly again."

"It´s that bad, is it?" Messina asked earnestly, her eyes searching Mickey´s face for any hint of exaggeration.

"She flinches when I touch her," Mickey replied quietly after a long pause, looking away, "or even recoils. She nearly struck me once when I came up behind her without her hearing and startled her. When I change her bandages or remove stitches her muscles become so tense they cramp up and she starts sweating. She tries to pretend that everything is fine, but even though she knows she isn´t fooling me she plays it down when I ask her or ignores my questions altogether." Mickey faltered for a moment, then cleared her throat and concluded softly, meeting Messina´s gaze, "Sometimes it´s like she can´t stand having me around, but at the same time she doesn´t want to be alone. She needs me close, but doesn´t want me to touch her and it´s only getting worse."

Messina rubbed her forehead tiredly, taking in the information without a word, then when it became clear Mickey was finished she let out a deep sigh, "You´re right, something must be done. I´m not prepared to lose one of my most valuable officers only because she´s too stubborn or too proud to seek help. I´ll make arrangements for Jo to see a therapist today and then it´ll be up to him to decide how often he thinks they should meet. And just in case Jo causes too much trouble, tell her that if she ever wants to get back on active duty she´ll do as she´s told." She opened a drawer and after a bit of rummaging pulled out a sheet of paper, asking as she looked up at Mickey "Is there anyone you can recommend?"

"The base psychiatrist, Dr. Alicia Henman, should be very competent. She has a lot of experience of dealing with trauma victims."

"Okay." Messina scribbled down a few notes. "Sounds like she might do." She wrote down a little more, then added her signature at the bottom before handing the paper to Mickey. "Okay, give this to her, it basically says that this is a matter of the highest priority and that I expect her to treat it that way. If she has any additional questions, I trust you to be able to fill her in. It might be a good idea to let her know that the patient isn´t doing it voluntarily." Messina flashed Mickey a quick grin, "Just so she knows what to expect."

"Yes," Mickey smiled herself, looking the paper over before folding it and putting it into her pocket, "that would only be fair. Okay… I must be going, I do have other patients after all." She rose from the chair, suddenly looking at little uncertain. "Um… no matter what, I want you to know how much I-."

"Hey," Messina held up a hand to stop her, giving her a little smile. "No thank-you´s needed, Doctor. Just…" she hesitated, searching for words for a few seconds, then said, "Just keep me updated, okay? Let me know how it goes."

"I will, ma´am," Mickey answered with a warm smile, renewed hope flooding through her. "I promise."

"Oh?" Messina commented wryly as Mickey walked to the door. "Back to ma´am, are we?"

Unable to stop herself, Mickey blushed a deep shade of red, turning around quickly, "I´m sorry… I meant no disrespect… I mean… earlier when…"

Messina laughed out loud, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms across her chest, "It´s fine, Doctor Renault, I like you, you can call me whatever you like. Just as long as it´s in private, okay?"

Mickey grinned lightly, still feeling a little embarrassed and for some reason experiencing a strong need to reinstate some of the former formality between them, "Yes, thank you… Iris… but maybe I should stick to ma´am. In the end that´s probably the best idea."

She was afraid Messina might ask her why, mainly because she wouldn´t be able to give a reason, but she didn´t and just said, "Suit yourself," her tone of voice indicating that she was already losing interest in the matter. Mickey recognized a dismissal when she heard one and with an odd sense of relief quietly slipped out of the office.

Confusing and blurred images flickered by quickly in Jo´s consciousness. A few faces and scenes she recognized, or thought she recognized, but before she had the chance to grab a hold of them they faded and were replaced by others only to be replaced by others yet again. Her eyelids twitching lightly, one image of herself strapped to a table suddenly surfaced in her mind and stayed there, a cold sweat gradually erupting on her skin.

"It´s going to be fine, sweetheart," a low, mesmerizing voice spoke soundlessly in Jo´s head. "Nothing´s going to happen. I´ll just give you this and you won´t feel anything. It´ll be like you´re sleeping." The voice grew ingratiating, softer, and Jo shivered in her sleep, imagining the feel of a moist and sweet smelling breath touch her cheek, "You like sleeping, don´t you? It´ll be just like that."

A sharp but brief pain followed as a needle was inserted into her arm and Jo felt a cool liquid slowly being pressed into her vein. "No," she whimpered quietly, trying to withdraw her arm. "I want to go."

"Shh…" the soft voice spoke, a warm hand gently brushing a few dirty locks of hair away from her sweaty forehead. "You´re a big girl, aren´t you? You´re not afraid of a little pain. It´ll be over soon."

As the hand continued to caress her face, Jo vaguely heard the sound of a door opening and heavy footsteps coming closer, but as she tried to raise her head to see she found that she was unable to move a single muscle. "I want to go," she whispered, the words practically inaudible. "My mum´s waiting…"

"It´s okay," the voice breathed into her ear, the smell of the breath now so sweet Jo felt nauseous. A hand suddenly touched her leg, but although she could feel it, she was unable to move. "Your mother is right outside, you´ll be with her soon…"

Even inside the realm of dreams, Jo wasn´t about to give up without a fight and her mind fought a fierce battle trying to make her wake up and return to consciousness. But all she achieved was a new row of fragmented images flashing past her at a horrendous speed, too fast for her to make even the smallest sense out of it. Instead she experienced pain, pain from another time and place in her life. The pain of hundreds of volts coursing through her, singeing her flesh, the pain of tiny metal threads being pushed up under her skin, under her nails and into the bone. The pain of beatings with bats wrapped in barbed wire accompanied by hoarse laughter, the pain of being naked in a tub filled with ice water, the pain of being humiliated and despised.

And most of all, the pain of knowing she was dying, and that she was dying alone. That nobody cared.

"Jo?" Another, but this time very real touch startled her out of her sleep and she bolted upright, prepared to defend herself against anybody who might be there. "Jo, it´s me," Mickey spoke sadly, moving closer to the edge of the bed to give her some space and to avoid causing a situation neither would know how to deal with. They still hadn´t recovered from the last time Jo nearly struck her. "You were dreaming again."

Jo stared at her for a moment, the images from her dream still lingering in her mind, then she shook her head lightly, "Yeah, seems like it. So…" she shifted on the bed, pulling the covers up around her and giving Mickey a pale smile. "What are you doing here? Shouldn´t you be at the hospital?"

"Well, I´m on a break," Mickey answered, unable to stop herself from studying Jo, searching for any distress or pain in spite of how much she knew Jo hated her doing it. "There´s something I have to tell you."

"Yeah?" Jo said without much interest, moving back to lean against the wall so she could stretch out her aching legs in front of her. "What is it?"

Mickey took a deep breath, unaware that she had begun to fiddle with the sheets, then spoke, "You´re not going to like this, but it´s for the best… You´re going to see a psychiatrist…"

"Uh…" Christa whistled softly on the other end of the phone and Mickey could clearly envision the expression on her face. "I bet that didn´t suit her one bit."

"No," Mickey sighed tiredly, absently flipping through a medical file lying on top of the stack placed in front of her on the desk. "That would be putting it mildly. I don´t think I have ever seen her so angry before. She was furious, said I had no right to decide things over her head, that I was treating her like a child."

Christa whistled again, obviously very intrigued by what she was hearing. "So what did you say?"

Mickey finally gave up concentrating on reading the file and closed it before leaning back in the rather battered and unsteady chair. "Well, I tried to tell her it was for the best, that it would help her deal with whatever it is that´s keeping her awake at night, but she wouldn´t listen. Just told me that she would be fine if people would only leave her the hell alone and stop bothering her." She sighed, shifting her hold on the receiver and continuing quietly, "I know I shouldn´t let it get to me, Christa, but it´s just so hard. I try and try and all Jo does is become more and more hostile or resigned. Every time I suggest something she gets angry and then I lose my temper which in turn makes me feel guilty and that just makes everything worse."

"I´m sorry, Mickey," Christa spoke sympathetically. "I wish there was something I could say to make you feel better." She paused for a few seconds then asked, "Have you tried leaving her alone? See what would happen?"

Mickey shook her head although her friend wasn´t able to see it, "No, I have thought of it, but I´m not going to take the risk. I´m not an expert in psychiatry, but I know it can´t be healthy for a person to be left to brood over such events by themselves, especially not someone as remote and taciturn as Jo. It took me forever to get her to admit her feelings for me because I was too insecure and unwilling to push the issue, I´m not going to stand by waiting this time. I´m not going to let her have her way until she breaks down, and she will, Christa, whatever she may think herself, she´s not inhuman."

"You know how Jo despises displays of weakness," Christa´s voice pointed out calmly on the phone. "She has a hard enough time accepting it from others, accepting it from herself is out of the question."

"I don´t care," Mickey replied succinctly, sheer determination etched into her features. "I love her, Christa, she´s my life, but she´ll have to admit that she isn´t capable of handling everything herself, that she needs help. If she doesn´t…"

"What?" Christa inquired softly when Mickey didn´t continue. "What then?"

Mickey was silent for a very long time, then said quietly, "Then… then I don´t know…"

Christa was quiet herself for a moment, absorbing what she had heard and the subtle despair in Mickey´s voice. Then she asked, "Have you told her that?"

"I…" Mickey cleared her throat. "I have tried to. I have also tried to tell her that it´s not just because of her that I want her to talk about things. I want… need… to hear about it myself. Imagining what took place there is driving me crazy. I have all these medical files with all the technical details of what´s wrong with her, all the various injuries she had when she was brought in, but that´s not enough. All I can do is conclude and diagnose, come up with the right treatment and…" Mickey´s voice faltered and she let out a long breath, then finished quickly, "It´s not enough, Christa, it just isn´t enough… I saw her. I watched her being caught on that rooftop together with millions of television viewers and maybe they have forgotten about it, but I haven´t. I saw her go down, I saw the dogs tearing in her, and even if Jo doesn´t need to talk about it, I sure as hell do. She just doesn´t seem to realize that-"

"Does she even know?" Christa interrupted suddenly as a thought struck her. "That you witnessed it on TV, I mean? Does Jo know that? Has anybody told her?"

"Well," Mickey began, but then trailed off uncertainly and Christa took it as her clue to continue. "Everybody on the base must know of Jo´s reluctance to talk about her capture, so most likely nobody has mentioned anything. Aside from you and Basil I don´t think anybody would feel comfortable bringing it up and you said Basil was away destroying outposts, and you haven´t told her, have you?"

For a few very long seconds there was no answer, then Mickey admitted, "No. I haven´t said anything."

"Why not?"

"I don´t know," Mickey answered curtly, suddenly sounding defensive. "I have been very busy in case you haven´t noticed, taking care of Jo plus all the other patients in the hospital. We´re terribly understaffed."

"Bullshit, Mickey," Christa commented unceremoniously. "If you had wanted to tell her, you would have found the time. So why haven´t you? You can´t really blame Jo for being uncommunicative when you´re unwilling to speak yourself."

Mickey´s mouth moved soundlessly a couple of times, her mind searching for words to ward off the unexpected attack. Then she said harshly, "It´s not the same! Those things can´t be compared. I haven´t said anything because I didn´t…"

"Because you didn´t what?" Christa asked patiently, inwardly speculating whether some of Jo´s communication skills were rubbing off on her friend.

"Because I didn´t want to upset her," Mickey finished a little disgruntled, hoping to end the subject. "Because I knew if I told her she would be upset and I didn´t want that."

"Uh huh," was Christa´s only answer and Mickey felt herself getting angry. "Look, Christa, it´s not the same thing. I haven´t said anything because I was trying to protect Jo whereas the reason why she hasn´t spoken is because she´s trying to protect herself! There´s a big difference."

"Yeah well, it all comes down to the same thing if you ask me," Christa spoke, clearly unmoved by Mickey´s objections. "Both of you avoiding to talk to each other for whatever reason. You said you have tried to talk to her, but how hard have you really tried? How hard did you push? You´re sure you have never taken the easy way out and just let Jo´s unwillingness take the blame?"

"Waitaminute!" Mickey exclaimed incredulously. "Are you saying it´s my fault that we aren´t getting anywhere?!"

"No, of course not," Christa said wearily, "that´s not what I meant. Gee… Mickey…" she sighed heavily. "You guys aren´t children anymore, when are you going to stop acting like you are?"

"I am not acting like a child!" Mickey protested adamantly, but then realized the absurdity of it all and smiled involuntarily, hearing Christa chuckle lightly on the other end of the line. "Well, if that argument didn´t just stun me speechless, Mickey. Your eloquence is, as always, staggering."

"Shut up," Mickey replied with a pleasant grin, getting to her feet. "You´re no fun talking to when you´re like this. I wanted support, not criticism."

"You wanted me to cheer you up," Christa spoke with confidence, the smile evident in her voice. "And that I have. Now, go see your patients, I have a date tonight and still have tons of secret reports to shred."

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Trying to get comfortable, Jo shifted irritably in the chair, shooting an evil look at the closed door before her. She was sitting alone in a small, gloomy and terribly overheated room, waiting to see the psychiatrist whom she against her will had been forced to see. First she had attempted to talk Mickey out of it, to explain to her that it was unnecessary and redundant, but she had quickly realized that her lover wasn´t going to change her mind and in annoyance and frustration Jo had gone to see Messina - only to be denied access to her office by a nervous but determined Vlad who had claimed she was busy and couldn´t be disturbed. It was the first time ever that Jo could recall that had happened and it only added to her already bad mood, and by the time she arrived in the psychiatrist´s office, she was ready to kill someone.

It didn´t help that the crutches she still had to use to move round properly were driving her crazy, and that everywhere she went people either acted like nothing particularly bad had happened or asked the most stupid or awkward questions about her capture or her health in a misguided attempt to be kind. Even complete strangers approached her and although Jo knew they meant no harm, that they only tried to show interest and concern, she was nonetheless tired of saying she was fine or nod repeatedly, agreeing with them that things could have turned out a lot worse and that she had been lucky.

Truth be told, Jo didn´t feel very lucky. She was still in pain from her injuries, her nightmares weren´t becoming fewer, the inactivity she was currently trapped in was slowly driving her insane with boredom, and to top it off, things with Mickey weren´t going too well. They didn´t exactly argue, but they didn´t exactly communicate in a friendly manner either, and Jo knew it was mainly her fault. She didn´t do it on purpose, but she was finding it hard to relax around Mickey and what was worse, she was finding it even harder to think of something to say to her. So many subjects were loaded or potentially dangerous, capable of leading them down paths Jo didn´t want to go as she was afraid where they might end up. She was aware she was making it difficult for Mickey and that her hostile or distant attitude was hurting her lover, but she simply didn´t know what to do to change it. Sometimes she would start out by being friendly and approachable, but then, out of the blue, her mood would change and she suddenly experienced strong feelings of anger and frustration for no apparent reason, and more often than not, Mickey was the one to bear the brunt.

Lately it had resulted in the two of them being very careful and civil around each other, both doing their utmost to avoid doing or saying anything that might upset the other. But with that came also a feeling of distance that Jo didn´t like and which was starting to make them feel awkward when they were alone together. And again, she didn´t know what to do about it and she was starting to think Mickey didn´t either.

Sighing desolately, Jo glanced at the closed door again, then reached out to pick up one of the magazines lying on the small table in front of her. To her surprise she saw that it wasn´t one of the usual censored and government controlled papers which were the only publications allowed, but an issue of an underground newspaper actually printed in Neo Roma. The idea that an illegal newspaper was being made in the capital itself was quite appealing to Jo and she grinned slightly to herself as she opened it, absently wondering how Dr. Henman had obtained a copy as such magazines and newspapers were very hard not to say dangerous to get by.

Squinting and holding the newspaper up close to her face to be able to see in the dimly lit room, Jo´s face darkened as the content of the articles became clear. The underground writers were telling about villages all over the Realm being seized to make room for military outposts and bases in the Council´s increasingly frantic attempt to quell the Organisation and its influence in the more rural parts of the land. Instead of receiving any kind of compensation or being rehoused when the soldiers moved in, families were scattered and torn apart as the inhabitants were just sent on their way, expected to be able to cope for themselves. There were even rumours about deportations and massacres of uncooperative villagers, but they had yet to be confirmed.

To make matters worse, it appeared that the United States had permanently closed off its borders, refusing to accept any more refugees coming from the Realm out of fear that some of the people may be carrying the Reuma virus and because the refugee camps along the coastal line were filled to capacity. Any vessels coming from that part of the world were searched before allowed entry into American harbours and sometimes they didn´t even get that far, but were ordered to turn around and return to international waters. It was said that at least two ships with refugees had been sunk when the captains had ignored their instructions to turn around and had attempted to enter a harbour after all despite the firm warnings that the patrol boats would open fire if they proceeded.

The editor of the newspaper concluded in his editorial that the United States had finally made it clear to the entire world that they were not going to get involved in the conflict on the continent. And that it was likely they would go from openly condemning the Council´s rule to adopting a more neutral policy as time went by until they ultimately would be concentrating entirely on national affairs. A decision which would have a catastrophic effect on the Organisation´s possibilities of financing its continuing fight against the horrors taking place in the Realm.

Rubbing her forehead tiredly, Jo closed the magazine and returned it to the table. She had been aware that the outside world was divided in its opinions on how to deal with the Council, but she had thought that they would continue to support them, if not with troops or weapons, then at least financially. However, ever since the expansion of the Realm ended more than twenty years ago and the new borders were clearly established, it seemed as if the neighbouring countries were less eager to get involved and somehow Jo couldn´t really blame them. One thing was fighting for a noble cause, another thing was fighting for a noble cause which didn´t really affect you personally. Still, she was enough of a realist to know that they would need help to defeat the Council. When the time came they would be able to destroy a great deal of the Realm´s infrastructure once they concentrated their forces and take over some of the major cities, but then their resources would be exhausted and without any additional support they would be forced to give up halfway through and thus accomplishing nothing but sending a lot of people to a meaningless death.

"Major Delaine?"

Jo abruptly looked up when she heard her name. She had been so far away that she hadn´t even noticed the door to the office open and now a grey haired and rather harmless looking woman was standing in the doorway watching her.

"I apologize for the wait, but my last patient took a little longer than planned. I can see you now."

Remaining where she was for a couple of very long seconds, looking very much like she was tempted to run, Jo then sighed inaudibly, grabbed her crutches and slowly rose from the chair, forcing herself to smile at the woman as she stepped back to let her in.

After all, how bad could it be?

To Jo´s endless relief, there wasn´t even a couch-like furniture in the room, but only wide and comfortable leather chairs placed so they were facing each other in front of a huge wooden desk, covered with papers, but in a organized and orderly manner. Compared to the waiting room, this room was just as dark, but cooler and more pleasant to be in, and Jo sat down feeling that perhaps she had been seeing things too dire and been a little too inflexible. Folding her arms, she sat back, patiently waiting for the doctor to go through her file.

"I must apologize once again, Major," Dr. Henman looked up briefly over the rim of her reading glasses, smiling distractedly as she continued to go through the papers. "I know this is a tad unprofessional, but you were assigned to me rather suddenly and I haven´t had much time to get familiar with your case."

"No problem," Jo answered politely, trying not to show her dislike at being referred to as a `case´. "I know you weren´t given a choice in the matter."

The doctor smiled to herself, making a few notes in the margin, then commented calmly, "And neither were you as I can see."

Jo shrugged, studying the various pictures of wildflowers on the wall, "People think they know what´s best for me. I´m here to find out if they´re right."

"Well then," Doctor Henman closed the file and put it back on the desk together with her glasses. "Let´s get to it." She suppressed a smile when she noticed the wary and guarded look that abruptly appeared on her newest patient´s face. Beginnings were never easy and she had a feeling this one wasn´t going to help her much with breaking the ice. "So…" she spoke slowly, not because she didn´t know what to say, but because she was fascinated by the subtle changes in the woman before her, the badly hidden tension in her body. "You were captured some time at the beginning of March and imprisoned for a short period of time before you were rescued by an old friend who acted of his own accord without prior permission. Am I right so far?"

Jo nodded, already having decided she wasn´t going to say more than was absolutely necessary. Her earlier misgivings had returned tenfold the moment the doctor put down the file and she was very much wishing she was somewhere else. She didn´t like to talk about herself, and she most certainly didn´t like to talk about herself to a complete stranger whose profession it was to analyze her every word and gesture.

"I see he was demoted to corporal for it." Henman´s voice was casual, relaxed, but the green eyes were alert and attentive, making Jo feel very uncomfortable. "How do you feel about that?"

Jo barely resisted the impulse to roll her eyes, answering in spite herself, "How am I supposed to feel? He´s my best friend, he risked his life and career for me. Would you expect me to be thrilled about his demotion?"

"No," the doctor smiled faintly, "of course not. I was just curious. I know from your file that you´re a conscientious and loyal soldier who obeys orders and always follows the rules, well… almost always follows the rules…" Henman gave her an amused look which Jo chose to ignore. "So I was wondering what you would feel about this breach of protocol. This… violation of regulations?"

"Does it matter," Jo stared at her, starting to feel convinced that the psychiatrist had to be backward in some way. "If he hadn´t, I would have been dead. It´s as simple as that."

"So, does that mean you don´t think rules and regulations should be obeyed at all time? No matter the circumstances?"

"Well, of course!" Jo glanced at her watch in annoyance, fully aware that the doctor would see the gesture which was precisely why she made it. "Everything is relative as I´m sure you have heard."

"Aha…" Henman spoke thoughtfully, but didn´t continue and instead let silence fall between them. Pretty soon, Jo had to consciously stop herself from shifting restlessly in the chair and without really being aware of it, she suddenly heard herself say, "But… but of course you have to strive to follow the book as much as possible, you know, obey orders. Otherwise it´ll end in chaos if everybody does what they believe is right. There…" She hesitated for a second, then concluded dismissively, "There have to be rules."

The doctor nodded sagely, smiling inwardly. Apparently it hadn´t been as difficult to break the ice as she had feared. Of course, this issue was still harmless, it would be a different matter when the conversation became more personal. Pushing the thought away, she asked, "But how is that reconcilable with what you said before? When is one to know when it´s justifiable to break away from the norm and do what you yourself believe is right? And it is ever justifiable to disobey orders when you´re a soldier, regardless of what your motivation may be, isn´t complete obedience essential in a militaristic system? Isn´t is very presumptuous to think that you know what is proper procedure, but your more experienced superior officers don´t?"

"Nobody´s perfect," Jo replied gruffly, beginning to get very tired of the discussion and her legs were hurting. "Officers are human, too, they also make mistakes."

"You´re an officer yourself."

"And?"

"Do you make mistakes?"

Jo looked at Henman for a moment, seemingly uncertain how to react or if she cared to, then she sighed deeply before answering indifferently, "Of course I do. I´m not perfect either."

"You´re human, too?"

"Well," Jo raised an eyebrow sarcastically, "that would be obvious, wouldn´t it?"

The doctor ignored the jab and just asked innocently, "So what makes you think you´re better than other people?"

"What?!" Jo straightened up quickly in the chair, her eyes narrowing. "I have never said I was better than anybody else."

"No," Henman acknowledged dispassionately, waiting a second or two before adding matter-of-factly, "but you seem to think so, deep inside, otherwise why would you expect more from yourself than from other people? Why would you expect to be better and more capable of dealing with problems and events which are difficult for any normal human being to overcome? How is it possible for you to endure and handle everything on your own if you´re not stronger, mentally and physically, than ordinary people? Or is it just that you´re simply…" She paused, eyes gleaming, then finished with a smile that was close to being taunting, "Simply tougher than the rest?"

Jo looked into Henman´s eyes for a long time, her face hard, but otherwise betraying no emotion. Then suddenly she spoke, quietly and coolly, almost as if she was bored, "If I wanted to, I could break your neck with my bare hands, Doctor, and I could do it so fast that you wouldn´t even notice it before you were halfway on your way to heaven. I don´t know about you, but to me that makes me a little… tougher… as you call it, than most people."

"That´s not the kind of toughness I was talking about, Major, I´m well aware of the skills the soldiers in the Organisation have."

"Oh?" Jo made herself comfortable in the chair again, crossing her legs nonchalantly despite the pain it brought her. "What kind of toughness did you mean then?"

"This kind." Before Jo had time to act, the doctor leaned forward and poked her firmly in the chest. "Inner toughness." She leaned back in her own chair, mimicking Jo´s posture and studying the shocked soldier for a moment before asking with a conciliatorily smile, "Just because you kill people and I don´t, does that mean your heart is tougher than mine?"

Jo let out a low curse as the cane got caught in a hole in the sandy ground and caused her to nearly lose her balance. Basil paused mid-step beside her, barely resisting the impulse to reach out and steady her. He knew Jo wouldn´t appreciate the help. Sighing inwardly, he waited until Jo was in control again and they resumed their slow walk down the narrow path leading away from the base and toward the heath-like country lying between them and the mountains.

Basil had returned two days ago from the region of the former Netherlands after having been away for nearly a month and he had been happy to see how much Jo´s physical condition had improved, but also concerned that the state of her mood, which had been exasperated and sullen when he left, didn´t seem to have improved along with her health. She was silent, even more silent than usual, and she didn´t appear to really care about what was taking place around her. Only the regular sessions with the therapist twice a week could get a reaction out of her and that was mostly reluctance and irritability, if not outright hostility over having to keep seeing her. Mickey was working hard in the hospital and only had time to say hello when he came to see her before she was called back, and Basil hadn´t had the chance to ask her about Jo.

Thus he had decided to take it upon himself to find out how things were going and had talked Jo into going for a nice afternoon walk, saying it would be good for her to get out of Mickey´s quarters and out into some fresh air. Jo had agreed with surprisingly little fuss and for the last half an hour they had been walking quietly side by side, not talking and both lost in their own private thoughts.

They continued like that until they reached more hilly and broken ground and Basil was about to suggest that they take a rest, but Jo ignored him and proceeded up the slope, despite the difficulties it was clearly causing her. Basil stood watching her for a moment, not sure if he felt like strangling Jo or giving her a hug, then he sighed to himself and resumed walking, quickly catching up with her.

"You know, Jo," he spoke at length between breaths, wiping his forehead to remove the perspiration that had appeared from the ten minutes of strenuous walking. "There´s a path leading around this hill as well. We don´t actually have to climb it."

Jo´s breathing was also coming heavy and laboured, although she did her best to hide it, and she just shook her head, giving him a slightly annoyed look, "You´re free to go back if you like, Basil, but I want to do it this way. It´s about time I find out how much strength I have left."

"Okay, suit yourself," Basil replied exasperated, tossing his hands up. "If you want to kill yourself then fine by me. See if I care!"

Jo stopped abruptly, her eyes angry as she looked at him, "Oh? Don´t you think I can do this? Do you really think me so weak and helpless that I´ll have to lay down and die if I continue much longer? Well, I´m sorry to disappoint you, but I´m feeling just fine!"

Without waiting for a response she turned around and stomped upwards, clutching the cane tightly in her right hand.

Basil sighed even deeper than before, fighting the anger that was beginning to build in him. Jo was really pushing it and he wasn´t sure how much more of her childish behaviour he wanted to put up with. Still, she was his friend and she was clearly not fine whatever she said herself. So shaking his head slowly, Basil followed her up the path, wondering how much longer Jo´s legs would be able to keep up with their stubborn owner.

Scant minutes later, Jo´s pace had lessened considerably as she felt nearly drained of strength and her joints and muscles were aching, and without a word Basil came to walk beside her, adjusting his steps so they fitted in with hers. Gradually, Jo began to slow down and suddenly she just stopped moving, raising her head to look towards the top of the hill which in spite of her efforts was still far away.

She was silent for a long moment, her erratic breathing calming down, then she spoke softly without looking at Basil, "It´s too far away, I´m not going to make it… I´m too tired."

"I know," Basil said gently, pausing only for an instant before he reached out to carefully put his hand on Jo´s shoulder, indicating with a light pressure that he wanted her to sit down. "But it won´t be long before you´ll be able to walk all the way. Maybe only one more week and you´ll be running to the top."

"Yeah," Jo mumbled with little conviction, allowing Basil to help her to sit down on the moist grass.

Slumping down next to her, Basil searched his mind for something to say, finally feeling that Jo was ready to talk, but before he could begin she beat him to it.

"And it´s not just that… It´s not just that I get tired fast whenever I´m trying to move around, it´s…"

"Yes?" Basil inquired helpfully, studying Jo´s profile as she didn´t seem to want to make eye contact.

"Everything…" Jo spoke slowly and uncertainly as though she wasn´t sure exactly what she wanted to say. "Everything tires me. Not just physically, but… It just…" She shrugged carelessly, her gaze fixed on something far away as she finished dispassionately, "I just get tired of it all."

Basil was silent for a few minutes, hoping she would elaborate, but nothing came forward. Clearing his throat he said, "We all feel that way sometimes, Jo. Sometimes I get sick and tired of it all and just want to leave, but then something always happens that makes me want to stay."

Jo nodded slowly in acknowledgement, then asked quietly, still without meeting his eyes, "But what if that `something´ doesn´t happen? What if you continue to feel that way?"

"Um…" Basil shifted on the wet grass, trying to ignore the fact that the moisture was beginning to seep through his trousers. "Are we talking about life here in general, or are we talking about life in the Organisation?"

Jo shrugged again, "I don´t know. Both I guess… It´s hard to separate."

"Well…" Basil began tentatively, his brow furrowing in thought. "I don´t think that you should think that way, Jo. I know that life sucks sometimes and so, but I think you should keep expecting it to change for the better. And even if you feel down now, there´ll come a time where you´ll feel happy again… just like before, and you´ll see the beauty of life again."

He gave her an affectionate pat on the back and they both deliberately chose to ignore the instant stiffening of her body it resulted in. Forcing herself relax, Jo turned her face toward him, giving him a faint smile, "You think so?"

"Of course!" Basil smiled brightly, relieved that she seemed to be cheering up because he really didn´t know what else to say. "Things can only get better."

"I hope so," Jo replied, looking away. "Because I´m tired of feeling this way." She grinned to herself, a quick, humourless grin that left no trace on her face. "I guess you could say I´m tired of feeling tired."

"What does your therapist say about it?" Basil asked after a short moment of silence where both had been staring straight ahead in the direction of the base. "Doesn´t she have an opinion?"

"I´m sure she does," Jo said with something that was close to a smile, "but she has still to utter one on the matter. She´s still busy dragging stories of my childhood and youth out of me so we haven´t quite caught up with the present yet."

Basil laughed out loud, "Oh, poor, Jo! I can´t imagine anything worse for you than actually having to talk about yourself, and then for hours non-stop. You must be completely drained after such a session of spilling your guts."

This time Jo´s smile was genuine, "Yeah, it´s definitely an experience, but…" She paused, a pensive expression flickering across her face before she continued, "But, you know, it´s not so bad after all. She does have some good points sometimes. Like when…"

"Like when what?" Basil turned to look at her when Jo abruptly stopped talking.

Jo didn´t answer straight away, but fiddled with the grass, a slightly nervous act that puzzled Basil a little. Then she spoke very quietly, avoiding any attempts of his to see her face, "Like when she said it was all right to want to stay alive… That… that it was a natural thing to not want to die and to want to protect those you love… no matter the consequences."

Basil was about to say that of course that was a natural thing when instead he halted, suddenly realizing that to Jo it might not be so obvious. Rising to his feet, he moved around to kneel down in front of her, waiting until she raised her head to look down at him. "Jo…" he spoke mildly, giving her a smile. "Believe it or not, but it´s okay to be selfish occasionally, it´s okay to put your own needs before others. And…" he faltered, not sure how to proceed, but then made a quick decision and continued with renewed strength, his voice very sober, "And, Jo… Whatever you may have had to do to stay alive, or to keep those you care about alive, nobody is ever going to hold that against you. You did what you had to do. And anyone in your place would have done the same. There´s nothing to feel bad about." He reached up and gently placed a hand on her cheek, looking directly into her eyes, "And there´s nothing to feel guilty about, Jo. Nothing whatsoever."

She looked at him in absolute silence and Basil could tell she was torn if she should refuse his caress or not. A rock was cutting into his left knee and his kneeling position in front of her on the slope was altogether unpleasant and awkward, but he didn´t dare move in case the moment should be broken. Then, almost too low for him to hear, Jo spoke, for once her gaze unwavering, "I was about to take them to the HQ, Basil, in Neo Roma I mean. I was ready and willing to sentence several agents, some of them my friends, to a certain death if only it meant that the guards would leave me and Mickey alone." She swallowed, her voice hoarse and full of pain and she took a deep breath before adding, "I was ready to do anything, Basil. I was ready to betray the- hell, I did betray the Organisation just so they would stop hurting me… just so they would let Mickey go…"

"Mickey?" Basil frowned, incomprehension showing on his face. "What do you mean? She was here on the base at that time."

"I know that now," Jo nearly whispered, grimacing helplessly. "But I didn´t know then. I thought they had her, I thought they were torturing her, and I just couldn´t stand it. I couldn´t stand the thought of them hurting her… of her suffering because of me. So… So I told them I would lead them to the HQ in the Slums, and I would have." The sadness and despair suddenly left Jo´s voice and it became cold and emotionless, hard blue eyes drilling into Basil. "I would have, Basil, if you hadn´t showed up I would have led them all the way and stood by, watching as they caught or killed everyone present. Don´t you ever doubt that. I would have done whatever was necessary to keep Mickey safe, even if it meant sacrificing the lives of others."

Basil met her gaze without blinking, heard her blunt confession without moving a muscle, then he spoke calmly, "And that´s why you´re feeling so guilty, Jo. That´s why you don´t want to talk about what happened in St. Peter´s because you chose to put you and your own needs first, because you reached a point when you couldn´t take it anymore and decided that the Organisation wasn´t worth risking Mickey´s life for. I have no doubt that you would have been willing to die for it yourself, intentionally or not, but just as little do I doubt that you wouldn´t want Mickey to do the same. They got to you, Jo, they broke you, and that´s what you´re having such a hard time accepting. And that´s why you´re so afraid that others will learn about it because you don´t think they will be able to accept it either. That they won´t understand."

"But guess what, Jo…" he stroked her face tenderly with his thumb, smiling faintly as he looked into her eyes. "They will understand and they won´t think you weak or call you a traitor. And do you know why? Because any of them would have done the same in your place. There isn´t a single one of them who wouldn´t have done whatever it took to stay alive and the sooner you come to grips with that, Jo, the sooner you will get to grips with everything that happened and the decisions you made in order to protect both yourself and Mickey. You held out as long as could possibly be expected and we all know that you didn´t give in because they weren´t talking to you nicely. You were systematically broken, my friend, by very professional people. You were starved and bereft of sleep, you were terrorized and manipulated. You were tortured, Jo, and then, only then, did you begin telling them what they wanted to hear."

"Face it," he smiled again, stroking her cheek one last time before moving back to sit on his haunches. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. On the contrary, you should be proud of lasting as long as you did. I doubt that I would have been capable of the same."

Jo sat rigidly, like she was frozen, staring at Basil as though she was in some state of shock. Her throat moved several times as she swallowed, various signs of emotion flickering rapidly across her very pale face, then finally her lips moved and she said quietly, "Thank you, Basil… for saying that… That… that really means a lot to me…"

Basil smiled warmly, but almost instantly his smile faded as a thought struck and he asked urgently, "I´m glad that it means something to you, Jo, but does that also mean that you believe me? That you agree with everything I have said?"

Jo hesitated, unsure what to say and knowing that what she was thinking might not be what Basil wanted to hear. Seeing the anxiety on his face, she then smiled briefly, saying as truthfully as possible, "Maybe not completely, Basil, not now. But I think there´s good chance that I will eventually. You just have to be patient with me."

"Ha!" Basil exclaimed with a grin, leaping to his feet and dusting off his trousers before reaching down to help Jo up. "I have been patient with you all my life, Jo! I think I´ll be able to keep it up a little longer."

Jo raised an eyebrow, smiling wryly, but she didn´t comment and side by side they started to descend the hill, slowly making their way back to the base in silence, both of them feeling very, very tired.

Chapter Fifty-Nine

"Um…" Jo hesitated, sceptically watching the doctor skilfully swirling the cue between her fingers. "Is this like… standard procedure?"

"What?" Henman lifted her head, pausing just as she was about to sink the eight ball into the far right corner.

"Hustling your patients in pool?"

"Well…" Henman spoke slowly, watching the black ball as it rolled neatly across the table and slipped into the intended pocket. "I find that being outside the office often strengthens the doctor/patient relationship. Trust is built, the patient feels less vulnerable and awkward. Less on display basically."

"Uh huh," Jo commented with a little grin, walking over to write the new score on the small blackboard on the wall.

"Of course," Henman began, smiling broadly as she gathered the remaining balls, racking them up. "Maybe I just do like to hustle my patients."

Jo studied the score with a frown. She had to admit she was glad that it was still early on the day and that the bar that they were playing in was practically empty. She had never claimed to be particularly good at pool, but this was embarrassing. She had won one game out of five and that had been the first one they played, Doctor Henman had probably only been warming up then.

"Another game?"

"Sure." Jo walked around the table, using the cue as a sort of cane. She was more or less capable of walking without any support now, but she still tired easily and occasionally needed to sit down to get the weight off her legs. "But this time you gotta let me win, I hate losing."

The doctor made a clicking noise with her tongue, waving her finger at Jo in mock reproach, "Now, now, Major, don´t you know that only the victory you have come by honestly gives any joy?"

"A victory is a victory," Jo replied, her words accompanied and nearly drowned out by the sounds of balls breaking as she shot the cue ball hard across the table. She straightened up, her gaze following a striped ball as it disappeared into a pocket. "It´s up to you whether you choose to derive any joy from it or not." She leaned down to take aim at another ball, giving Henman a quick smile as she did so to let the doctor know she shouldn´t take her remark too seriously. "But of course," she sunk the ball, "some victories are more enjoyable than others."

"Very true," Henman replied, keen eyes following Jo´s progress on the pool table, her hands absently caressing the cue. They played in silence for a few minutes until Jo struck the cue ball with too much speed and it ended in a pocket, and the doctor took her place, efficiently ridding the table of four balls within seconds.

Jo let out a low sigh, already seeing how the match was going to end. But Henman took her time choosing her next target, circling the table indecisively. Suddenly she said without looking at Jo, "I saw Dr. Renault yesterday."

"Oh…" Jo answered, not sure what else to say. She watched as Henman finally made a decision and leaned in over the table, and suddenly heard herself ask, "Where?"

"In the hospital. My colleague who works there wanted to consult me about a patient and on my way back I ran into Renault." A swift movement and yet another ball was history. "She´s very beautiful."

Jo was caught off guard for a moment, but as the doctor raised her head to look at her, obviously expecting a response, she nodded and said, "Yes, very."

"Very sweet and charming, too."

"Very," Jo admitted, eyeing her a little suspiciously, the slightly bewildered expression on her face hinting at the fact that her mind was working furiously trying to figure out what Henman was up to. In the almost two months she had been seeing her she had quickly realized that the doctor rarely said or did anything without a purpose.

"How long have you been together?" This time Henman´s aim wasn´t up to its usual standard and she missed the shot, stepping away from the table to give room for Jo. "Close to a year," Jo answered, staring intently at the balls, trying to spot an easy shot.

Just as she had found one and had angled the cue exactly right, the doctor spoke, effectively throwing off her aim and concentration, "She clearly loves you very much."

Trying not to let her annoyance show over the ruined shot, Jo looked up, flashing Henman a suave smile, "Well, Doc, why wouldn´t she? There´s a lot to love."

Consciously overhearing the light note of sarcasm in Jo´s voice, something Henman wasn´t sure Jo even noticed herself, she continued casually, "She´s been very worried about you these last couple of weeks, months even."

Again, her words interrupted Jo just as she was about to shoot, but instead of becoming annoyed she met the doctor´s eyes, asking with a hint of surprise, "Did she tell you that?"

Henman shrugged, "She didn´t have to, it was obvious from the way she spoke about you."

For the third time Jo halted her shot, her voice suddenly angry as she asked, "Did you two discuss me?"

"I never discuss my patients, Major," Doctor Henman replied placidly, meeting Jo´s accusing stare without difficulties. "You should know that by now. No, we didn´t discuss you, Renault just asked how things were going and I told her I couldn´t say anything, that she would have to ask you." Henman paused, turning her head to follow the ball Jo finally got around to hitting as it rolled along the cushion and into the far left pocket, then spoke neutrally, "Some of the questions she had kind of surprised me, it made me wonder whether you ever tell her about the things we talk about." She waited for a response, but didn´t receive any and added, sounding slightly weary, "Do you ever tell her anything?"

Jo shrugged noncommittally, preparing for her next shot, only to miss by tenth of an inch. "Why should I? It´s not like it´s going to be of any use to her what we spent our sessions together chatting about. I´m sure there are other subjects she´d much rather talk about."

"You don´t really believe that, do you?"

The doctor´s question itself was harmless enough, but Jo could tell from her tone of voice that she wanted an honest answer and with a low sigh she perched herself on the edge of the pool table, speaking tiredly, "Look, Doc, I just don´t like talking about certain matters with Mickey, it´s bad enough I have to talk to you about them, I don´t want to have to do it with her, too."

Henman crossed her arms, hugging the cue tightly to her as she studied Jo sharply, the pool game momentarily forgotten, "But some of those matters as you call them concern her, indirectly or not. Don´t you think she has a right to know?"

"Why?" Jo countered immediately, her eyes narrowing just a little. "What good would that do? What difference would it really make? I´m sure Mickey knows all she wants to know and besides, if she´s so curious why hasn´t she come to me? Why hasn´t she asked me about anything?"

Henman just gave her a look, "Why do you think, Major? You haven´t exactly been easy to be around lately. You´re moody and distant, and even I as your therapist have a hard time getting you to talk, it´s practically like pulling teeth, but at least I don´t care about being rejected or your hostile behaviour, it doesn´t affect me, but have you thought about that Renault may not feel the same thing? She loves you, don´t forget that, and it´s not very pleasant having your love thrown back in your face again and again. Sooner or later you stop trying, and even worse, you stop caring. Is that what you want, Major?" She walked around the table, coming to a halt inches away from Jo, staring her in the face, "Is that really what you want? Do you want her to stop caring? Do you want her to leave you alone?"

Jo stared at Henman, stunned by her directness and aggression, then gradually the meaning of the words sunk in and almost imperceptibly she shook her head, saying quietly, "No, I don´t want that. I wouldn´t know what to do if I didn´t have her."

"Then why do you keep pushing her away? And don´t tell me you don´t because I know you do, Jo. You´re not the first patient I have had to act this way."

"Well, you´re supposed to be the expert, aren´t you?" Jo retorted angrily, feeling uncomfortably cornered as Henman made no indication of moving away or easing up on her. "Aren´t you supposed to be telling me that?"

"No." Henman shook her head firmly, pinning Jo who shifted uneasily with her gaze. "I want you to tell me." When she saw that all she was achieving with her forcefulness was a tightening of Jo´s jaw, she sighed to herself and moved away a little, looking at Jo for a moment before asking mildly, "What is it you´re so afraid of? I want you to tell me."

"I´m not afraid," was Jo´s answer, but even to her it sounded half-hearted and she continued awkwardly. "I just don´t like talking about some things. I have told you some of it and you know a lot about me already, and that´s okay because I know that you´re only trying to help me, but I just don´t want to discuss it with other people and especially not Mickey. I have some unpleasant memories to deal with, both old and new, and you´re helping me with that, Mickey doesn´t need to get involved. It´ll only upset her."

"And you don´t want that?"

"No," Jo said with emphasis. "I don´t want that. As I said, it would only make her upset and maybe she-" Jo cut herself off, not wanting to say any more than she already had, but she quickly realized it was pointless as Henman was unyielding, looking at her pointedly and expecting her to finish the sentence. So reluctantly she did, her words alternating between being rushed and hesitant, "And maybe… maybe she would get angry, or sad, and… and maybe she would start feeling sorry for me, and I won´t be able to stand that. I want her love, not her pity."

"I think compassion covers it better than pity," Henman spoke with a gentle smile as Jo averted her face, staring down at the floor. "It has a much better ring to it, don´t you think?"

"Whatever," Jo muttered disinterestedly. "It´s the same thing."

"Hmm… I think some may disagree with you there, but let´s not get into that now. I believe it was my turn?"

Without waiting for an answer, Henman returned to the table, scanned it for a second or two and before the speechless Jo could recover from her surprise proceeded to sink the last of the balls finishing off with the eight.

"Aren´t you…" she began uncertainly, still unsure of what had just happened. "Aren´t you going to…"

"What?" Henman gave her cue a little victory kiss, glancing at Jo, the look on her face indicating that she was tremendously pleased, but with what exactly Jo couldn´t tell. "Analyse you? Push you to tell me more? Offer you a shoulder to cry on as you tell me all about your insecurities and fears?" She grinned slightly as Jo´s eyes widened drastically. "Well, we could spend the time we have left doing that, but wouldn´t you much rather play pool? You´re down six to one after all, you´re being beaten by an old woman twice your age. I would say it´s getting a little embarrassing, wouldn´t you?"

Jo stared at her, rendered speechless once again. Then as all Henman did was to continue to prepare another game, a smile slowly appeared on her face and she shook her head lightly, "No offence, Doc, but sometimes I think you have spent just a little too much time among crazy people."

"That, my dear, Major," Henman replied with a faint smile, leaning down to make the opening shot, "could very well be." She adeptly sunk two balls and Jo made a small complaining noise in her throat, remarking dryly, "You do realize that if you keep this up, you´ll not only beat me, but completely and utterly wipe the table with me? Aren´t you getting bored?"

"Oh, that´s okay," Henman grinned at her innocently. "I don´t mind winning all the time."

"How very gracious of you," Jo replied, closing her eyes in resignation as the next ball was being beautifully lowered into the middle pocket.

More running than walking, head lowered and hands hidden deep in her pockets, Mickey covered the distance from the hospital to her quarters in record time, the dark, cold and stormy night being a great incentive to move quickly and not linger.

It was only a little past eight p.m., but the area was practically deserted and only a few poor souls were out among with the unfortunate soldiers who were standing guard at the fences and buildings, all shivering pitifully in the cold and trying to take cover from the howling wind as it swept across the compound.

Perfect setting for a horror movie, Mickey thought to herself, glancing a little uneasily at the shifting shadows between the barracks she passed. It´s good I don´t believe in ghosts or monsters anymore.

As a little girl she had been afraid of the dark and her older brothers took great delight in telling her ghosts stories when their parents weren´t home. Usually scaring her so much that she was unable to sleep without the lights on. However, the fear of the dark left her soon afterwards when the soldiers came and she had learned that the dark could just as often be your friend as your enemy.

Reaching her destination, Mickey´s cold fingers closed around the handle and she turned, swearing under her breath when the door was nearly being torn from her grip and slammed hard against the barrack wall. With not a little effort, she pulled it closed behind her, taking a minute to enjoy the warmth and the quiet before she continued down the corridor, her light steps making almost no noise on the floor.

Under practically all the doors she went by she could see light shining and her door was no exception, but instead of walking right in, she paused, a sudden tired and weary expression showing on her face. Exhaling slowly, she then straightened up and quickly opened the door to go inside.

Jo was sitting on the bed as she came in, her back against the wall and her legs stretched out before her as was her usual custom. She stopped browsing through the magazine she had been reading and watched in silence as Mickey walked over to hang her jacket in the closet. Mickey could feel Jo´s eyes at her back and she felt instantly tense, subconsciously preparing herself for whatever the evening would bring.

"Are you hungry?" Jo´s question was nothing like Mickey had expected and it took her a moment before she could answer, turning around to look at her. "A little. I haven´t had anything to eat since lunch."

"I made some sandwiches for dinner," Jo spoke, indicating the small fridge standing near the door with her head, "but then I wasn´t very hungry. You can have them if you like. I think one of them is with chicken, your favourite."

"Thanks," Mickey smiled, feeling almost ridiculously touched that Jo remembered but also a little on guard, wondering if this was only the calm before the storm, the calm before Jo´s mood would deteriorate as it did so often lately. "So," she asked conversationally as she stepped over to the fridge, opening the door to peer inside. "What are you reading?"

Jo sighed, carelessly tossing the magazine onto the floor beside the bed, "Nothing interesting. It´s the latest issue of The Neo Roma Journal and it´s full of just as much crap as it always is. The Council´s factories are developing new wonderful weapons, far superior to the equipment belonging to some of the more unfortunate elements existing in the Realm - that would be us by the way - the president is making tons of wise and generous decisions; five more terrorists have been captured and are awaiting trial, which will be fair and just of course; the national economy is booming and everybody is being prosperous and content… and so on and so forth. You know the drill. We´re all just so very happy!"

The exasperated sarcasm in Jo´s voice made Mickey smile as she walked over to sit down on a chair in front of the bed, balancing a plate of sandwiches in one hand and a glass of water in the other. "Well, at least we have something to keep us entertained and even if all they write is fabricated you still learn something by reading between the lines."

"I know," Jo answered, smiling distractedly at Mickey before she raised her head to stare thoughtfully at the ceiling. "But sometimes I don´t like what I read there either. A lot of things are happening right now and it bothers me that I don´t know for sure what´s true and what isn´t. It´s clear that ever since Lingstrom took over some kind of rearmament has been taking place, but how far they plan to take it and what they plan to do with it exactly nobody in the Organisation knows. Or at least nobody has told me anything."

Overhearing the subtle tinge of displeasure in Jo´s words, Mickey washed the last of her sandwich down with water and said, "Well, I´m afraid I can´t be of any help to you there, I know less about it than you do. I have been so busy with the hospital the last many weeks that sometimes I´m not even sure what day of the week it is."

"True…" Jo took her eyes off the ceiling to look at Mickey. "You have been very busy." She seemed indecisive as to whether she wanted to say more, but then asked casually, "They have been working you hard, very hard, from six in the morning to late at night. It´s not getting to be too much for you, is it?"

Mickey met her gaze, hating herself for the fact that she was searching for a motive for Jo´s seemingly innocent question but she couldn´t help herself. "Well," she started hesitantly, getting to her feet. "It´s been tough occasionally and I could definitely use a holiday soon, but I don´t really have a choice about the amount of work. None of us at the hospital do. There´s nobody around to do it for us."

She walked over to put the plate and glass into the sink, hearing Jo say behind her, "I know that, I just worry about you sometimes. You have been working really hard for a long time now and there doesn´t seem to be a lessening of the burden. On the contrary, with all the rumours of refugees seeking shelter in Organisation camps and bases it´s more than likely that it´ll only increase."

With her back turned, Mickey was free to smile at the absurdity of Jo worrying about her when all she was doing was worrying about Jo. Turning on the water to finally clean the dishes that had gathered over the past few days, she spoke softly, "I´ll be fine, Jo, we´ll manage somehow. And maybe it won´t be so bad, this base is pretty close to Neo Roma and according to the reports it´s only the smaller villages faraway from the cities that are being cleared of people."

"Yes," Jo agreed, "that´s true, but exactly because we´re close to Neo Roma, in fact we´re the base closest to it, a lot of people are going to come here. The Council will want to establish a buffer zone of outposts around the capital and for that they´ll need to remove the people who are living in that area."

Mickey nodded slowly in acknowledgement, staring listlessly down into the soapy water, "You´re right, I hadn´t thought of it that way." She sighed, reaching for the washing-up brush, "Guess that means more work for me."

"Yeah, guess so," Jo replied, suddenly wishing she hadn´t brought the subject up when she noticed the slight slump of Mickey´s shoulders by the information. Quickly, to get her to think of something else she said, "Guess what Dr. Henman did today?"

"I don´t know," Mickey shrugged, listening with only half an ear as she was trying to get rid of some persistent rice leftovers that appeared to have become permanent part of a pot. "Knowing her it could be anything."

"She took me to the officers´ bar to play pool," Jo announced with a mixture of amusement and good-natured incredulity, obviously curious as to how Mickey would react. "And then she proceeded to beat me in practically every single game, quite thoroughly even, while still finding time to analyse me in between."

Mickey turned to look at her, keeping her wet hands on the sides of the sink. "Really?" She studied Jo´s face closely, attempting as she always did to figure out what she was thinking and slightly surprised that Jo had brought up the topic of her therapy by herself. Usually that was her job and usually it never led anywhere. "Well, I had heard that she has a rather unorthodox way of treating patients, but I didn´t know that playing pool was a part of it."

"No, I didn´t know that either," Jo answered with a little smile, "but I must confess it was a pleasant change from her office. She may be a good psychiatrist, but she has a lousy taste in interior decorating and her waiting room´s always so hot it´s boiling. You´re sure to be sweating even before she´s asked you any questions."

Mickey had been about to turn back to the dishes when Jo began to speak, but one of Jo´s relaxed comments made her freeze on the spot and she stared at her in surprise, asking as soon as Jo had finished, "You think she´s a good psychiatrist?"

"Doctor Henman?" Jo asked needlessly, being a little perplexed by the urgency she thought she heard in Mickey´s voice.

"Yes, Doctor Henman. Do you think she´s a good psychiatrist?" Mickey repeated her question, continuing to stare directly at Jo.

"Um… yes…?" Jo said experimentally, regarding Mickey in puzzlement and wondering what she was getting at. "I mean, I don´t have anybody to compare with being she´s the only one I´ve ever had, but I think she´s okay."

To her great discomfort, Mickey only continued to look at her without speaking, but just as she was about to say something else just to fill out the silence, Mickey spoke, "I´m glad." She smiled suddenly and the shadows under her eyes and the exhausted look on her face seemed to disappear for a second, "Very glad."

This time it was Jo´s turn to look at her searchingly, realizing that there was a lot more to Mickey´s reaction than just approval of what she had said. Clearing her throat once then twice, she spoke slowly, not exactly sure of where she was heading, "In fact, Doctor Henman is… well, she knows what she´s doing, I think, and… and… maybe… maybe it wasn´t…"

Mickey subconsciously leaned towards Jo, hanging on her every syllable and frustrated beyond reason that she wasn´t getting to her point faster, but she didn´t dare rush her in case it made her clamp up.

"Well, I guess that… that you making me go see her wasn´t such a bad idea after all," Jo finally finished, looking nearly as beat and drained for strength as if she had been wrestling with Basil for hours, her eyes nervously lingering on Mickey´s face.

Something happened inside Mickey as she heard Jo´s words and their meaning became clear. Something seemed to release inside her, to start to flow again, but what it was she didn´t know and all she could do to was to smile briefly, afraid of what she might do otherwise, afraid that the tumultuous emotions racing through her would startle Jo or make her uncomfortable if she let them shine through.

When Jo returned her smile, a little uncertainly at first but then more genuinely, Mickey smiled again before turning away, reaching for the tap to refill the sink with hot water. And as the water began to flow, gradually filling the sink, she whispered, too low for anybody but herself to hear, "I´m glad..."

Another low sigh from Jo at last prompted Mickey to turn over in the bed to look at her lover who was lying on her back beside her, staring blankly at the ceiling. The darkness in the room was making it hard for Mickey to see Jo´s face and she couldn´t tell if she was in pain or just thinking, and doing her best to hide the concern that seemed never to be faraway, she asked, "Can´t you sleep?"

Jo didn´t answer at first, then turned her head to look at her and said with a shrug, "Nah, but it´s okay. I like listening to the wind outside." She smiled briefly before looking back at the ceiling, "Makes me feel so much more fortunate to be inside and not out there."

"Yeah, it´s nasty out there right now," Mickey replied, but she wasn´t really paying attention, her mind focused solely on whether she should ask her next question or not. But like so many times before she was incapable of stopping herself, and asked, trying to sound as indifferent as possible, "Do you hurt anywhere?"

Usually, asking Jo that particular question was a sure way of ruining her mood and make her aggravated, but this time she only shrugged once more, speaking after a moment´s silence, "Not really. My legs ache a little, but not more than they would after a long run so I´m okay. That´s not keeping me awake."

"Would you like me to massage them?" The question was out before Mickey had a chance to think it over and she subconsciously held her breath, waiting for Jo´s response.

In the last couple of months since Jo had been released from the hospital and moved into her quarters they had had very little physical contact with each other. Except from the beginning when Jo´s bandages required changing and her stitches tending, Mickey had barely touched her. It wasn´t that she didn´t want to, but when the unconscious tensing of Jo´s body one night had turned into something that could only be described as a direct recoil, involuntarily as the rejection may be, Mickey´s confidence had suffered a severe blow and she didn´t want to run the risk of experiencing it again. It would hurt too much.

The irony wasn´t lost on her that the space they shared now was just as small as her apartment in Neo Roma, if not smaller, and that they shared a bed every night, but the distance between them seemed to be just as great as when they first encountered each other again back in the clinic in Slums.

"You don´t have to do that," Jo voice was quiet and impossible to read anything from as she finally answered. "It doesn´t bother me, I really am okay."

"I know I don´t have to do it, but I would like to," Mickey answered just as quietly, sighing inwardly as she had the distinct feeling that Jo wasn´t going to take her up on her offer and hating herself for even asking in the first place.

Jo raised her head a little from the pillow, trying to get a better look of Mickey´s face but there wasn´t light enough and Mickey´s features remained hidden to her. Trying to decide what she wanted, she continued to look at Mickey for a few seconds, then nodded quickly, "Okay… if you´re sure you don´t mind."

"I´m sure," Mickey gave her a faint smile that Jo missed in the dark. "I´ll go see if I have any suitable lotion or oil for your legs, you get hid of your sweats in the meantime."

Jo nodded again, but didn´t move until Mickey had climbed out of the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. Then slowly she sat up and began to pull off the sweat pants she had taken to sleeping in because of the ineffective heating of the room, and it was still unusually cold for the season. Sitting only in briefs and a t-shirt she soon began to shiver and retreated under the covers again, rolling onto her stomach to be able to see Mickey when she came out of the bathroom. Mickey returned shortly afterwards, having donned a pair of sweats and a thin sweater herself to ward off the chill. In her hand she held a bottle and holding it up for Jo to see, she said with a friendly grin, "Baby lotion´s all I´ve got, I hope that´s all right."

"Sure," Jo smiled, making herself comfortable in the bed, "my legs won´t care. And neither do I for that matter. By the way, do you want me on my stomach or my back?"

Mickey paused, one foot in the bed and another on the floor, relieved that Jo was looking straight ahead and thus couldn´t see the slight blush on her face caused by the sudden images Jo´s innocent question had sparked. "Um…" she cleared her throat, getting the rest of the way into bed. "Just stay the way you are that´ll be fine."

"Kay," Jo answered, putting her head down on the pillow and closing her eyes. "If you do it right, then maybe I´ll fall asleep."

"Maybe you will." Mickey moved the covers away from Jo´s leg, making sure her upper body was still covered. "You just have to relax otherwise all this will be in vain." She gently nudged Jo´s legs apart to get room to kneel between them, her eyes intensely following the subtle flexing of muscles in her lover´s thighs and calves, knowing to herself that Jo was trying hard to do as she was told. "Relax," she said softly, carefully placing a hand on the middle of Jo´s right thigh to calm her, pretending not to notice the acute stiffening it resulted in. "It´s not going to hurt."

"I know that," Jo mumbled into the pillow, cursing herself for her reactions, but unable to prevent them. "I´m just…" she trailed off and made no attempt to finish the sentence, but Mickey understood anyway and only nodded. "I know, Jo. I know. It´s okay."

Jo didn´t answer, but she appeared to have an easier time relaxing and with great fascination Mickey felt the muscles under her fingertips gradually loosen and the tension vanish almost completely from Jo´s body.

It´s a start, Mickey thought confidently, feeling better than she had in a long time. Now it can only get better. I hope…

She squeezed out a generous amount of lotion in her hands, rubbing her palms together until they were warmed up and then leaned forward to begin her massage. But inches before she would have touched Jo she halted, saying quickly, "I´m going to start now, okay?" Even though she felt slightly foolish and couldn´t help but wonder if she was overreacting by practically announcing it like that, she was nevertheless glad that she had, not wanting Jo to spend another five minutes trying to relax in case she caught her unprepared.

"Okay," came Jo´s muffled answer and she sounded almost sleepy and to Mickey´s pleasant surprise far from guarded. "Do your worst."

"Be careful what you ask for," Mickey replied with a smile, gently running her hands down Jo´s legs. "You may just get it."

Seconds, minutes, even an hour passed unnoticed by Mickey as she immersed herself fully into her task, all her senses focused on Jo and Jo´s responses to her touch. She tenderly massaged Jo´s legs from toes to thigh, taking care to apply minimum pressure to the places she knew might cause Jo pain or make her tense. She kneaded the muscles in her calves harder because she knew they could take it and she even found time and courage to rouse Jo from her semi-slumber by tickling her under her feet, grinning devilishly when Jo withdrew her feet in complaint. But in spite of all the attention devoted to Jo and her comfort, it wasn´t all for her and as much as Mickey found joy in hearing Jo´s contended sighs and groans, she selfishly stole some of the pleasure for herself, relishing the feel of the smooth skin under her hands and the feel of muscles becoming pliant and relaxed. She began to understand that she had missed touching Jo and the intimacy they used to share a lot more than she originally thought, and slowly the joy she had been experiencing was replaced by sadness and longing, and the pleasure of touching Jo became more bitter than sweet.

When at last she stopped her massage, Jo was sleeping peacefully and had been for a long time, and she didn´t see as Mickey slipped out of bed and walked over to the window, perching herself on the sill and remaining there completely motionless until the sun rose.

Chapter Sixty

3rd June

My Dear Jo,

First, let me tell you how sorry I am for not having been to see you yet, you know there´s nothing I would like more, but unfortunately it just hasn´t been possible. Lately life here in Vega has been chaos, refugees are arriving everyday and we´re running out of places to house them and out of food to feed them. Also our medical staff has been working around the clock because so many of the people are exhausted and malnourished after sometimes travelling for days, weeks, on foot and sleeping outdoors. Some of them also need treatment for wounds they received when they were driven from their homes by the Council´s soldiers.

I don´t think I have to tell you how angry that makes me, you have known me long enough for that, but to be honest I´m a little surprised by my own reaction. Maybe I have just mellowed with age, otherwise I don´t understand why I could ever have believed that Lingstrom and his cohorts would treat civilians any better than his grandfather did all those years ago. However, righteous anger can be very powerful and give you a lot of energy as I´m sure you know, and right now I´m in need of all the energy I can get, having my hands full of scared and angry refuges who I have no idea what to do with.

But enough about my troubles. I´m so glad to hear you´re doing better, you must almost be up to full speed again by now. Mickey has been very sweet to keep me updated on your condition and I can tell that you have been making real progress. Not that I would have expected anything less mind you, you´re one of my old students after all and I didn´t teach any weaklings. Now I just have one thing to ask: Why the hell did you allow those bastards to catch you in the first place! I really thought I trained you better than that, Jo. Never ever attempt something like that without having a fail-safe route of escape. You cannot rely on luck or circumstance to get away, you have to know for sure that you can get out of there, fast!, in case something unexpected happens.

Now, I didn´t write this letter to yell at you, I just want to make sure that something like this never happens again. You had me worried there for a moment, kiddo, when I first heard the rumours that you had been captured, and I don´t like being worried. And I especially don´t like being worried about you, so don´t do anything like this again. And next time come to me for advice, I may not be able to throw you around as efficiently as I used to, but this old man still has a few tricks up his sleeve which could come in handy.

Got that? Good. Then we won´t have to talk about this again.

Well, before I end this letter I have some news to tell you that may surprise you, in fact, it´s still surprising to me. Vivien and I are getting hitched. Yes, I know, shocked me, too, but I have come to the conclusion that neither of us are getting any younger and since that we mostly get along fine, I thought to myself, why the hell not? I´m not going to find anybody else who puts up with my quirks and follies the way she does, and I know she loves me, although only God knows why, and after so long it seems fitting somehow. We haven´t set a date yet and with the way things are going it´s probably going to be a while before we have time and opportunity. Vivien assures me that she doesn´t want a big ceremony, but I know she´s lying. In spite of her tough appearance she´s a real romantic at heart and I have told her that we´re going to have a proper wedding with everything that involves. (As much as that is possible of course. Vega doesn´t exactly have an abundance of priests and churches.) Truth be told, it doesn´t make a difference to me, but I think she deserves a reward for being so patient for so many years and if it´ll make her happy I don´t see why we shouldn´t make it an affair to remember.

Okay, one last thing. Of course I´m aware that you and Vivien were never the best of friends and most likely never will be. But that doesn´t mean I don´t fully expect to see you at my wedding and be just as happy on my behalf as the rest of the guests. You don´t necessarily have to smile and you definitely don´t have to kiss the bride - as if she would let you - but I do want you to be there, Jo. In fact, I´m ordering you to be there. (Just forget my lower rank here for a second, kiddo, it´s about seniority of the heart instead.)

Once I have all the details and everything has been planned I´ll let you know. My guess is that we´ll get married sometime in autumn, possibly in early October. I know you´re not free to decide your own schedule and that a lot of things can happen before then, but now you at least have something to go on. I also know you´re reasonably good at handling the Field Marshal so don´t you think it´ll be possible for you to drop by? I´m confident that the Organisation will be able to manage without you for a day or two.

Well, that´s all for now. I have work to do.

Stay out of trouble.

Pilot

Jo read the last paragraph about the wedding again, letting out a long, tired sigh as she did so. Then she spent a few minutes staring at the floor, her face absent and thoughtful, before she finally rose and walked outside, leaving the letter lying on the bed.

"I thought I might find you here." Jo walked the last few yards up to where Messina was sitting, standing beside her for a moment looking out towards the horizon before sitting down in the long grass next to her. "Nice sunset."

"Yes," Messina replied quietly, her face only partially illuminated by the red glow of the sinking sun. "It´s beautiful."

Jo watched the display of golden orange and deep pink colours in the sky for a little while, then when dark spots began to appear before her eyes she turned her head slightly, looking into the direction of the base. "This place is also very nice, very quiet. I was here with Basil a few weeks ago."

Messina only nodded, continuing to look towards the sun which had now almost disappeared from sight. As the last of the rays brushed the land and faded, the air started to cool quickly, bringing with it the smell of impending rain, but neither woman made a move to get up and both seemed to be looking at something faraway in the distance. After a few minutes of silence, Messina spoke, sounding almost like she was thinking out loud, "The next couple of years are going to be rough. Nothing will ever be the same again."

"I know," Jo said softly, hugging herself tightly as she began to feel a little cold. "Once the official declaration of war on us has been given there´ll be no turning back."

"Yeah…" Messina agreed, letting the word linger between them. "It can happen any day now."

"You know…" Jo turned to look at her, noticing that Messina was also feeling the cold and was shivering lightly. "Sometimes I fear… that when this war is over, nobody will be able to tell who won. And what kind of victory will that be?"

Messina lifted herself an inch up from the grass to pull free the parts of her coat she had been sitting on and wrapping it firmly around her spoke tiredly, "It´ll be the kind of victory most victories achieved in war are like. Bloody and dirty and with so high casualties of both soldiers and civilians that one can´t help but wonder if it was worth it."

"But it is, isn´t it?" Jo searched as much of Messina´s averted face as she was able to see. Messina didn´t reply at first, but then turned her head to look at her. Smiling bleakly, she said, "Of course it´s worth it, Jo." The smile became a grin, "It has to be, hasn´t it? I have dedicated my entire life to this cause, this fight, and would rather not find out that all of it has been for nothing, that it´s all been a waste."

"Yeah." Something that might have been a smile flickered across Jo´s face as she raised her head to look out towards the now completely black horizon. "I know what you mean."

Silence fell between them, but it wasn´t uncomfortable and neither felt the need to break it. It wasn´t until Jo was starting to feel cold for real that she spoke, voicing something she had been wanting to hear the answer to for quite some time. "Why didn´t you come to see me when I was in the hospital?"

Messina didn´t look her way, but just said calmly, "Would you have wanted me to?"

"Of course I would," Jo exclaimed wearily. "You must know that."

Messina smiled to herself, an enigmatic, impossible to read smile and then said, "Maybe I should have, but I didn´t want to disturb. Dr. Renault was there, Vlad and Corporal Neville were there, plus you were constantly surrounded by medical personnel. I thought it might get a little too crowded if I was there, too."

"You didn´t have to camp there," Jo argued slightly annoyed and not at all satisfied with Messina´s explanation. "I know you´re busy and all, but you could just have stuck your head in and said hi. I would have if I were you."

"But you aren´t me, are you, Jo?" Messina pointed out serenely, appearing almost amused, but then she grew serious, reaching out to place a hand on Jo´s thigh. "I´m sorry," she spoke quietly, looking into Jo´s eyes. "I had my reasons, it didn´t have anything to do with you. You know how important you are to me."

Jo held her gaze for a moment, but then nodded and gave her a smile, unable not to be mollified by Messina´s words and very touched by the sincerity in her voice. "It´s okay. I´d just have liked to see you, that´s all." She hesitated, looking as if she was reaching a decision and then said, so low it was nearly a whisper, "Thank you."

Messina regarded her for just a second, then looked away, "What for?"

"You know what for," Jo replied simply, not the least surprised by Messina´s inquiry. "I have already thanked Basil and now it´s time I thank you."

Messina didn´t speak and neither did she move, but then, after a very long moment of silence, a practically imperceptible nod of her head indicated that she acknowledged Jo´s thanks. But as she spoke, all she said was, "Rumours travel quickly here. If I didn´t know better I´d say that half of my men are more busy gossiping than doing their job."

Jo smiled fleetingly at the remark, but she wasn´t done yet and she wasn´t about to let Messina change the subject. Studying the hand still resting on her thigh, she doubted Messina wasn´t even aware that she hadn´t removed it, she said, "You took a great personal risk on my behalf."

"Not more than your friend Neville did," Messina answered flatly, staring straight ahead. "In fact, I hardly did anything."

Jo sighed. She was starting to get tired of nobody wanting to accept her thanks for rescuing her. Basil had been exactly the same, not wanting to admit that he had done anything special or unselfish either. "Be that as it may, but I´m still grateful. Basil couldn´t have come to my aid without your involvement, it´s as simple as that."

She was about to continue when a familiar voice below them suddenly called out, "Delaine?! Are you here?"

"Yeah, I´m here, Vlad!" Jo shouted back, rising to her feet even though she doubted he would be able to see her in the darkness. "What is it?"

"I´m looking for the Field Marshal. Have you seen her? She´s not in her office and she didn´t leave any message."

Jo turned to Messina, wanting to get her permission before informing Vladimir of her presence. For the briefest of seconds, indecision, if not wistfulness, showed on Messina´s face, then she waved a hand carelessly, gesturing for Jo to answer.

"She´s here with me, Vlad. What´s so urgent? Has anything happened?"

"Refugees have- shit!" Vlad abruptly cut himself off as he tripped over a tussock and nearly landed on his face.

"Stay where you are, Vladimir, there´s no reason for you to kill yourself," Messina ordered quickly as she heard her aide trying to find his way up the steep hill towards them. "We´re coming down. What was it you said about refugees?"

"People from some of the villages near Neo Roma have arrived, there are about two dozen of them, and their leader says more may be coming."

"Great," Messina mumbled softly to herself as she and Jo carefully made their way down the hill. "If that isn´t just what I need right now… Well, hopefully, it can´t get any worse."

In that very moment a gentle rain started to fall and they paused, looking at each other for a couple of seconds before they continued down the hill, chuckling quietly to themselves.

By the time they reached the base, the rain had increased steadily, but it was warm and seemed to have taken some of the chill from the air and except for the fact that she was drenched, Jo didn´t really mind that much. Messina, however, was of a different opinion and had been muttering quietly to herself nearly all the way back, but since Jo hadn´t been able to hear exactly what her superior said she figured she could also be complaining about the refugees.

"This is also serving the cause," Jo remarked with a grin as they stepped through the gates onto the base. "Taking care of people who need our help. It´s not all about fighting honourably to death."

"Well, that may be, but that´s the part I prefer, it´s simpler," Messina replied sourly, adjusting the collar of her coat, her eyes searching the compound that was illuminated by two bright spotlights coming from the eastern and western guard towers. "I hate having to deal with civilians, it always causes problems. You know I have no people skills."

Jo smothered the grin that was about to appear on her face, but her voice gave her away as she said, "That´s not true. You have plenty of people skills, you just don´t want to have to bother with being nice." Before Messina could answer, Jo turned to Vladimir who had been standing quietly beside them, "Where did you put them, Vlad? I don´t see them out here."

"Currently they are all in the hospital getting a check-up, after that those who´re declared healthy will be brought to the F barrack. The security chief and I decided to house them there since it´s currently empty and there is room for them all. However, if their leader is right and more are coming we may be running out of places to house them soon."

Messina ran a hand through her wet and lank hair, sighing deeply, "Have somebody take a look at some of the storage rooms, Vlad, see if they can be made into acceptable living quarters. Don´t clear them yet, but have everything ready in case we should need it. I don´t want to run the risk of having people camping outside."

"As you wish, ma´am," Vlad saluted, then turned around and quickly walked away.

"Well, Delaine…" Messina sighed again, giving Jo a tired smile. "Should we go look at it? See what Santa brought us?"

"After you, ma´am," Jo replied with a grin, mimicking Vlad´s salute. "Oh, cut it out, Jo!" Messina exclaimed exasperatedly, striding off towards the hospital. "At least do it like you mean it."

Entering the hospital, they both stopped abruptly in the doorway, eyebrows arching dramatically as they watched the chaos taking place before them. The hospital corridor was absolutely cluttered with people, some standing in small groups talking, while others were moving around restlessly, calling out names or asking for information. Children were running around wildly playing tag, a few people had taken to lie on the middle of the floor in apparent exhaustion, and among them all were doctors and nurses, zigzagging between them on their way to and fro examination rooms, shouting orders and instructions over their shoulders to invisible note takers.

"I thought Vlad said there was only about two dozen," Messina spoke in a voice that threatened severe harm to her aide in the next foreseeable future.

"Well, maybe more arrived while he was out to find us," Jo suggested, quickly sidestepping to avoid a little boy who was mere inches from colliding with her in his flight from to older boys who were chasing him down the corridor.

"Or maybe Vlad just can´t count," Messina spoke through gritted teeth, shooting the two approaching boys such a menacing look that they instantly skidded to a halt and ran back to their parents, giving up their chase of their smaller victim.

"Could be," Jo said, unable to not be just a tad amused by the situation and Messina´s reaction. She was about to say something more when she saw a familiar figure further ahead, speaking intently with an old man while a younger woman was pulling repeatedly on her sleeve, seemingly trying to ask her something. "Looks like Mickey has her hands full," Jo noted, more to herself than Messina, and her superior wouldn´t have been able to hear her anyway as she was on her way through the cluster of people, not so gently removing those who got into her path.

"No! Sorry, I don´t have a damn clue how long it´ll take! Do I look like a friggin´ doctor to you?! And no, I don´t know where your sister is and frankly I don´t - lady, would you please move aside so I can get through? I´m trying to find the surgeon in charge of this mess!"

Shaking her head lightly as Messina´s voice and annoyed words carried through the noise of talking and arguing people and babies crying, Jo let out a low sigh and looked back to where Mickey had been a few seconds ago, but now she was nowhere to be seen.

Taking a deep breath, she started to move forward, trying to be slightly more considerate than Messina had been, but before she could reach the end of the corridor, a voice suddenly spoke, causing her to stop, a bewildered frown showing on her face.

"Jo? Jo, is that you?" Jo turned her head, her gaze coming to rest on an elderly man standing near the wall a small distance away from the other refugees. A faint smile flickered across the man´s face as their eyes met and he spoke, taking a step towards her, "I thought it might be you, I would recognize that pretty face anywhere."

Jo stared at him, unable to believe her eyes as memories from long ago washed over her, hitting her with so much force it made her head spin. "Gunnar?" she finally managed to get out, her voice a mixture of suspicion and surprise. And maybe a little joy. "Gunnar? From the village? The one with all the patients?"

"The very same," Gunnar smiled, taking another step and coming to stand directly in front of her. "So how have you been?"

Jo just looked at him, incapable of answering. The man before her was one of the people she had never expected to see again, and he and his strangely yellow eyes had nearly been erased from her memory. But as she looked at him now things started to come back to her. She remembered the night she and Messina had been forced to flee into the forest when the camp they were staying at was attacked, and how Gunnar and his men had found them and brought them to their village, the doctor nursing a critically wounded Messina back to health and thus saving her life. That she remembered, but with those memories came something else, a feeling of shame as she reluctantly recalled what had happened afterwards, how Messina had repaid their kindness and how she herself had stood by, watching as the soldiers took off with the pills that was the only thing that kept Gunnar´s patients alive.

Unable of coming up with anything intelligent to say and desperately fighting off the blush of embarrassment she could feel was close at hand, she said awkwardly, "You… you look good."

It was a blatant lie and they both knew it. Gunnar was looking tired and gaunt, he had become frightfully thin since she last saw him and he had lost what was left of his grey hair, liver spots now dotting his shiny scalp and deep wrinkles lining his forehead.

"Thank you," he answered graciously with a small nod, accepting her half-hearted and inept compliment. "So do you." He paused for a second, then added, "I see you have moved up in the world since we last saw each other, you´re major now."

"Yeah…" Jo shifted uncomfortably on her feet, wishing she was anywhere but there. She didn´t like the way he was making her feel like a clumsy cadet who had been caught in the act of doing something wrong. "I guess I got lucky."

I have nothing to feel guilty about, she thought, knowing full well she was trying to convince herself. It was necessary, it had to be done. We had no choice.

"Well," Gunnar smiled a little mysteriously, pointing at the emblem on her uniform symbolizing her rank with his index finger. "Knowing you, luck had nothing to do with it. Or am I wrong?"

Jo didn´t respond and didn´t even appear to hear the question, but just looked at him, a million different thoughts running through her head. A sudden loud cry from one of the examination rooms made them both look that way, but only for a moment, then Jo returned her gaze to Gunnar and asked, "What are you doing here? Did you come with the others?"

"Actually, they came with me," Gunnar explained, taking a quick look at the people around them, as if to make sure everything was okay, before he continued. "I led them here. I´m… well…" he shrugged. "I guess you could say that I´m their leader."

Jo smiled involuntarily, "Somehow that doesn´t surprise me." She bit her lip thoughtfully for a second. "Look, Gunnar," she then began, but was interrupted as someone called out her name. Looking up she saw Messina stand in the door to the head surgeon´s office, gesturing irritably for her to come. Not knowing why she did it, but having the feeling that she should, Jo took Gunnar by the arm and led him up to Messina. Hesitating, she glanced from the impatient looking Messina to the blank faced Gunnar and back before saying, "Ma´am, this is Gunnar. He is-"

"Are you their leader?" Messina cut in, her eyes resting on Gunnar with no particular interest.

"Some would say so," he replied neutrally, making no indication of what he was thinking.

"Good," Messina said, looking past Gunnar and not appearing to really pay any attention to him. "Then go tell your people that as soon as they have been examined by the doctors they are to go out and have the soldiers waiting there accompany them to their barrack. There´s no reason for those who have already been checked to stay here and fill up the corridor. Got that?" She gave him a statutory smile and without waiting for an answer walked back into the office, ordering over her shoulder, "In here, Delaine, when you have a moment."

Jo stared at the empty doorway, then turned to Gunnar, having an odd feeling that she should somehow apologize, but before she could say anything he spoke, his voice tinged with something Jo couldn´t properly identify, "I see she hasn´t changed in the last five years. Not that it surprises me."

Their gazes met for a moment, then Jo said quietly, "I guess she didn´t recognize you."

The corner of Gunnar´s lip curled up slightly, then he reached out and placed a large, wrinkled hand on her shoulder, giving her a light pat, "Why should she, Jo? Why on earth should she?"

Then he released her, turned around and walked away, his frail and delicate frame quickly disappearing in the sea of people occupying the corridor.

Chapter Sixty-One

Ignoring her splitting headache and her fatigue, Mickey carefully took another blood sample, the twenty-sixth so far, and without turning around just held out the small phial through a gap in the curtain surrounding the examination table, and it was instantly snapped by a passing nurse who was already carrying a tray of samples to be brought to the lab for testing.

"There," Mickey placed a Band-Aid over the tiny mark left by the needle, giving her young patient a smile as she did so. "That wasn´t so bad, was it?"

The little boy just turned his head away, clinging closer to his mother, a thin and weary-looking woman who smiled apologetically at her, "He´s just a little shy, Doctor, and tired. Usually he´s a lot more open around strangers."

"It´s okay," Mickey pulled off her latex gloves, tossing them into a nearby bucket used for that purpose. "Nobody likes having blood taken. And he was actually very brave. I have had grown men turn pale at the sight of a needle."

Nodding goodbye to the mother and her son, Mickey took a moment to lean against the wall and close her eyes. She was exhausted and she had little doubt that if she was left alone for just a few minutes she would be able to fall asleep, standing up or not. She had been on her feet since early morning and had barely gotten home and kicked off her shoes when a message arrived that all available medical staff was to report at the camp hospital immediately. That was hours ago and the last time she had a look at her watch it had been well past midnight. What the time was now she didn´t care to know.

Hearing noise as the curtain was drawn aside and then closed again, she opened her eyes and saw a large and heavyset man with a little difficulty ease himself down on the examination table, watchful and wary eyes studying her intensely from below big bushy eyebrows. Smiling mechanically, Mickey reached for the box with gloves standing on the trolley carrying all her instruments, speaking tiredly, "Please take off you shirt, sir, so I can have a look at you."

He did so, albeit reluctantly, revealing a massive and hairy chest, vaguely reminding Mickey of a barrel with fur. With little thought and less concentration, she gave him a routine check-up, noticing nothing unusual aside the furious beating of his heart which she suspected was due to the nervousness and anxiety he was obviously feeling. After a few vain attempts to make him relax, she gave up, making a mental note to have someone look at him later when the perils of the long journey he had just taken and the fear of being somewhere foreign had eased.

"Now, sir, all there´s left for me to do is to take a blood sample then you will be out of here and can join up with your family in the barrack."

"A blood sample?" the man spoke for the first time, looking at her suspiciously. "What do you need that for?"

"It´s routine procedure," Mickey explained matter-of-factly, preparing a syringe. It was not the first time that night she had heard that question. "We have the samples tested in the lab to make sure that none of you are carrying any contagious diseases."

"You mean like Reuma?" the man asked, his arm twitching slightly as he stared at the needle in Mickey´s hand.

"Yes, that too, plus a couple of other diseases. We try to take as many precautions as possible to avoid problems later on." She smiled at him, drawing a chair over to sit down next to the examination table, "Better safe than sorry you know."

"Yeah…" he returned her smile, but it was feeble and without any real feeling. Mickey took his right arm and held it straight, searching for a vein under the mass of dark hair covering his skin. Just as she was about to insert the needle, he pulled his arm back, asking quickly, "What do you do if somebody´s infected with Reuma?"

Mickey hid her irritation over the delay, fully expecting her patient to be one of those faint-hearted men she had told the mother with the boy about. "They´re put into isolation in the quarantine area of the hospital." She reached out again to take his arm, this time more firmly. "And then they´ll remain there for awhile before they are transferred to another base. This base is a Reuma free zone and we don´t have the facilities to treat people here."

"So you basically send them off to die somewhere else so they won´t bother you here? So you won´t have to witness it?" The man´s voice was harsh and angry, and Mickey halted, looking up to meet his eyes. Speaking quietly but calmly she said, "I have seen my share of Reuma patients, sir, and as much as I would be happy never having to see one again that is not why we do it. It is simply to avoid unnecessary risks that we gather everybody with the disease the same place. The medical staff there is all volunteers and the patients get the best possible care. It´s better for them to be among people who don´t fear or shun them as would be the case if they stayed here. Also there they can move around freely without restrictions and lead as normal a life as possible."

"Normal!" the man snorted, pulling his arm back once more and abruptly rising to his feet. Starting to rebutton his shirt, he growled, "If that is what goes for normal in the Organisation then I don´t want to see what abnormal is! You´re talking about keeping innocent people imprisoned until they die! What the hell is normal about that?!"

Mickey retreated quickly, not liking the hostility in his eyes and his threatening behaviour. "Look, sir," she spoke firmly, holding her arms out as if she was trying to calm a frightened animal. "I can´t let you leave before I have taken a blood sample. It´s Organisation policy."

"Oh?" he spoke mockingly, eyeing her slender form from head to toe. "And what are you going to do to stop me?" Without waiting for her reply, he roughly pulled the curtain aside and was about to step outside when Mickey swiftly moved in before him to block his path. "I´m sorry, sir, but this is serious. If you leave you will be arrested."

The commotion had caught the attention of everyone in the crowded room, doctors, nurses, and patients alike, and many pairs of eyes were on them now, some alarmed, others fascinated. Ignoring all the staring eyes, the man just spoke coldly, "Get out of my way, Doctor. I have never hit a woman in my life, but I´m willing to make an exception if you don´t move."

Mickey squared her shoulders and stared determinedly into his eyes, trying not to look as nervous as she felt, "Go back in, sir, and let me take the sample. After that you´re free to go."

As answer, the man made a sudden move for her, but before he had the chance, Mickey planted her fist straight on his jaw, using all her strength. For a split second he stared at her in astonishment, looking just as shocked as Mickey herself, then his eyes rolled back and he collapsed to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Mickey took a step back, staring first at the man on the floor and then on her smarting fist in surprise. Dead silence filled the room for a moment as every single person present stared at Mickey in disbelief and awe, then a woman´s voice was heard snickering, "Hah! I always knew Noel had a glass jaw and this time he won´t be able to explain it by saying he´d had too much to drink."

This seemed to release everybody from their state of shock and widespread laughter and good-natured cheers were heard as two assistant nurses grabbed the man by each leg and dragged him out of the room. Mickey stared after them, still unable to believe what she had just done. One of her younger colleagues came up to her, giving her a pat on the back and speaking with a grin, "Nice punch, Renault, I´ll know who to call the next time a patient causes trouble."

"I… I…" Mickey stammered, turning around to look at him, cradling her now very painful hand against her chest. "I didn´t mean to do that."

"No?" He grinned again, shaking his head lightly. "Well, it sure as hell looked like you did and I´m pretty sure it felt that way, too."

Mickey was about to answer when suddenly she sensed something and looking up, she stared directly into a pair of blue eyes. Jo was standing near the wall at the end of the room, next to an old man who was engaged into conversation with another man sitting beside him on a chair.

Not hearing as her colleague excused himself and went back to his patient, Mickey watched as Jo slowly walked through the room towards her, her eyes never leaving hers as she deftly avoided running into the never idle nurses moving quickly from place to place. Coming to a halt before her, Jo´s face was immobile and unreadable as they looked at each other and Mickey felt her heart pick up briefly, unsure of what was going on in Jo´s mind.

Just as Mickey was about to speak, to apologize for the grave error she felt she had committed and to explain, a wide smile spread on Jo´s face and too surprised to react, Mickey could only listen as Jo leaned forward until their faces were nearly touching and whispered into her ear, "That´s my girl."

Moving away, Jo´s smile grew even wider as she saw the expression on Mickey´s face, but instead of commenting she just said softly, gesturing at Mickey´s hand, "Get someone to look at your hand to make sure it isn´t broken and then put it into ice until it´s stopped hurting."

Mickey nodded, too stunned by Jo´s behaviour to speak. If she didn´t know better, she would say Jo was looking at her with something akin to pride. A faint smile flickered across Jo´s face again and she reached out to gently brush Mickey´s cheek with her knuckles, her hand lingering a moment before she pulled it away. "I´ll see you later."

And then she walked past her and out of the door.

An hour or two before dawn, the rain that had been falling all night turned into a full-blown thunderstorm. Later people remembered it as the moment when the weather finally changed and summer arrived, but at the time few were awake to witness it.

Standing at a window in the now empty corridor of the hospital, Mickey sipped her coffee, silently taking in the sight of lightning illuminating the base with regular intervals. She had been about to leave when the weather worsened, almost from one second to the next, and she was now waiting for a break in the storm to cross the compound without getting drenched or possibly struck by lightning. Something Mickey felt might just happen considering the luck she had had tonight.

First she had been practically pulled out of bed to return to the hospital, and then there had been the incident with her unwilling patient, and ever since she had had to listen to comment after comment about the punch. Good-humoured or not, it had very quickly become old and tiresome. In spite of what others and Jo seemed to think, she didn´t feel particularly proud or good about it and was still rather shocked by her own behaviour.

Her mood had improved a little when one of her last patients, apparently a doctor like herself, had told her he had once had to do the same, but still Mickey wasn´t completely at ease with it, even when she had been informed by her superiors that it would have no repercussions for her.

No repercussions. Yeah right! I´m going to be known as "Doctor Punch" for the rest of my medical career, if not longer.

Mickey leaned her aching head against the cool glass of the window and closed her eyes. She stood like that for a couple of minutes until a nurse walked up to her and asked why she didn´t go home to get some sleep?

Handing her the half full coffee cup, Mickey gave her a weak smile and replied that she might as well, since the storm didn´t look like it was going to ease up for the next many hours. Declining the offer to use her raincoat, Mickey said goodnight to the nurse and walked outside, too tired to hurry despite the weather. Thus she was just as drenched as she had expected by the time she quietly let herself into her quarters, being as soundlessly as she possibly could in case Jo was there and asleep.

The room was dark and the curtains were drawn, but the occasional flash of lightning outside the window was more than enough to help her orientate herself, and she had no problem seeing the contours of a curled up body outlined under the covers in the bed. In no time Mickey had changed into her warmest pyjamas, still deeming the room a little too cold to sleep in anything less, and carefully climbed into bed, fully intending to be sound asleep by the time her head hit the pillow.

Although she had taken care to make as little movement and noise as possible, Jo woke up - or maybe she hadn´t been asleep in the first place Mickey suspected - and turned over to look at her.

"Hey…"

"Hey," Mickey answered softly, stifling a persistent yawn. "When did you get in?" Jo raised her head slightly to look at the digital numbers on the alarm clock, sighing loudly as she lay back down, "About forty-five minutes ago. Because of the development with the refugees, Messina held an emergency meeting and they always last forever. Some of her officers enjoy hearing themselves talking way too much."

"Did you come to any conclusions," Mickey asked, holding her fist up before her face to study her bruised knuckles. Fortunately the x-ray had showed that nothing was broken, but in spite of nearly an hour with her hand submerged in ice it still hurt like hell.

"Only that we won´t be able to keep them here," Jo answered. Without thinking she reached out to gently take Mickey´s hand, bringing it closer to get a look of the damage herself. "Right now eighty-eight people are divided between the F barrack and one of the storage rooms, but they can´t stay here. Especially not if more are coming which is to be expected considering how the situation near Neo Roma is."

Mickey watched as Jo turned her hand lightly, studying it from all angles and carefully stretching out her fingers and probing her joints. Her low hiss of pain instantly made Jo release her and she smiled sheepishly, "Sorry, just testing if everything was still functioning."

Mickey gave her a smile in return, "S´okay, and everything works fine. My hand´s just very sore and probably will be for some time."

"Yeah, probably…" Jo bit her lip, struggling valiantly to keep a straight face, but the thought of Mickey´s precise knockout of the guy threatening her still made her smile. She had been talking to Gunnar when she noticed that something was amiss at the other end of the room. But before she could react Mickey had taken care of the situation herself quite capably, and somehow Jo was glad she hadn´t had the time to intervene. Initially she had been just as startled as the rest of the people present, but the shock subsided almost instantly and pride had taken its place. She knew very well that Mickey wasn´t proud of it herself, but Jo saw no reason why she couldn´t be proud for her. After all, she didn´t have to let her know.

Finally getting her amusement under control, Jo was about to speak when she noticed that Mickey had almost disappeared completely beneath the covers, only the tip of her nose and a few blond strands being visible. Gradually tugging the covers away from Mickey´s face, she deadpanned, "Cold?"

"Whatever gave you that idea?" Mickey inquired dryly and pulled the covers back in protest, promptly giving Jo´s hand a light slap as she made a move to remove them again. "It may be June, but it most certainly doesn´t feel like it. It´s like April, a cold April even, and the heating in this room just sucks."

Jo laughed quietly, being only too aware of Mickey´s dislike of cold weather and the effect it had on her mood. Then, debating with herself for just a second, she opened her arms slightly in invitation and said softly, "C´mere, my feet are cold, I´m afraid, but the rest of me is warm enough."

Mickey gazed at her over the hem of the blanket, obviously surprised by the offer although Jo could tell she was trying to hide it. Just as she began to worry that she would refuse, Mickey smiled, a little uncertainly, but nevertheless she moved closer, joking as she put her head down on Jo´s chest, "That´ll work just fine because my feet are warm whereas the rest is cold."

"A perfect match," Jo replied with a faint grin, putting her arms around Mickey and trying to ignore the unsettling feeling of relief she was experiencing. "Or a perfect combination."

"Absolutely," Mickey agreed sleepily, shifting to make herself comfortable, her left arm instinctively slipping across Jo´s stomach as was her habit even though it had been awhile since she last had the opportunity. "Like yin and yang."

Jo smiled in the dark, then continued in the same light, teasing note as Mickey, "We might as well face it, we´re stuck with each other… whether we like it or not."

Mickey didn´t respond immediately and Jo thought she might be asleep, but then she raised her head to look at her, all traces of teasing gone from her voice as she said earnestly, "I like it."

Jo looked into her eyes for a very long time, then she spoke with a little smile, reaching up to tenderly trace Mickey´s jaw with her finger, "Have I told you lately that I love you?"

A strange look flickered across Mickey´s face, then she turned her head away.

Jo suddenly felt cold, the hand that had been caressing Mickey lingering uncertainly in the air before dropping to the sheets. "Mickey…? What are you-"

"No, actually…" Although Mickey´s voice was nearly inaudible it was enough to silent whatever Jo had wanted to say, and she stared at her in both confusion and shock as Mickey finished in a near whisper. "You haven´t."

"What?" Jo finally managed to say after a long awkward silence during which she had been desperately trying to see Mickey´s face, and where Mickey had been avoiding all her attempts to do so. "What do you mean?"

"Just…" Mickey shrugged nonchalantly, at last meeting Jo´s worried gaze. "What I said… you haven´t said it in a while."

"That I love you?"

Mickey nodded, feigning carelessness, but doubting that she was succeeding much. Smiling quickly, she said, "It´s okay, Jo, it´s not a big deal. It´s just when you said that…" She shrugged again, "I don´t know, I shouldn´t have said anything. It was stupid."

Jo was speechless, all the unspoken feelings and thoughts behind Mickey´s words slamming into her so hard it hurt. "Mickey," she got out at length, once again reaching up to touch Mickey´s face, but this time firmly cupping her chin to prevent her from looking away. "You do know I love you, right?"

Unwittingly holding her breath, Mickey searched Jo´s eyes for a moment and when she saw what she had hoped and, deep down, probably known was there all along, she smiled, a small but genuine smile. Brushing a lock of hair away from Jo´s forehead, she spoke softly, "Yes, Jo, I do… it´s just been a couple of very long months, that´s all."

Instantly realizing what Jo would say next and not interested in hearing it, she hurried to add, pressing a finger to Jo´s lips, "And don´t you dare apologize, I don´t want to hear it. Okay?" She emphasized her request by tapping her finger lightly a few times on Jo´s lips, grinning affectionately, "No apologies, not for this. Not for my being insecure and you for being your usual uncommunicative self. We really should be used to it by now. And besides, I´m sure you´ll get plenty of opportunities to apologize to me for something you have done in the future, but not now."

"No apologies?" Jo spoke against Mickey´s finger, looking intently into her eyes as if to see if she truly meant what she said.

"No apologies," Mickey affirmed, putting her head down on Jo´s chest again. "I´m tired of them… unless of course you use all the hot water like last time, then you better believe you´ll have a lot of apologizing to do."

Jo laughed out loud, sudden joy and renewed relief rushing through her. "Oh, is that so? Well, who was it who stole my last clean shirt the other day?"

"Beats me," Mickey answered innocently, smiling with her eyes closed. "It´s not my fault you hate doing laundry. If you did it more than once in a blue moon you wouldn´t run out of clothes all the time."

"Uh huh," was Jo´s only comment, deciding to give up what she strongly suspected would be a losing battle, and not really caring if she won anyway.

Silence fell between them and Mickey snuggled closer, hearing the steady rhythm of Jo´s heart beating beneath her ear while the rain hit hard against the window in the background. Just as she was about to slip into oblivion, Jo´s hand began to stroke her hair and she said quietly, "I love you, Mickey."

Then she paused, for about two seconds, before adding with a smile in her voice, "And for the record, I´m not the least uncommunicative."

And those were the last words Mickey heard before she fell into a dreamless sleep, the slightest trace of a smile showing on her face.

"I don´t remember."

"You don´t remember?"

"No," Jo gave Doctor Henman an irritated look as she shifted restlessly in the chair. "Getting 50,000 volts through your body will do that to you." She glanced away, her gaze searching out one of the countless Monet reproductions on the wall as she mumbled under her breath, "Plus a few other things…"

Henman laced her fingers, studying Jo thoughtfully. Then she asked, "Do you have any idea when they did that to you? I mean, was it right after your capture? Towards the end? When?"

Jo shrugged, continuing to stare at the painting as if was the most fascinating thing she had ever seen. "Both. They did it at first to make me disoriented and cooperative, later they did it to achieve the opposite. They lowered the voltage to jumpstart my brain to make me remember better."

"And to cause you pain."

Jo smiled coldly, her eyes glazed in memories, "Yes, well, I guess you could say they were a couple of versatile fuckers."

There was silence in the room as Henman made a few quick notes, ignoring Jo´s displeased sigh. Looking up, she asked, "How much would you estimate you remember from your stay in St. Peter´s?"

Jo didn´t answer immediately, but then she slowly turned her head to meet the doctor´s inquiring gaze and said impassively, "Enough." She paused, then murmured as if to herself, "Enough to know I don´t want to go there ever again."

"Not even to get revenge?"

"I don´t care for revenge, "Jo replied tiredly, running a hand through her hair before looking at her watch. "I just want to forget." She rose from the chair, "I´m afraid I have to cut our session short, Doc, I´m expected at a meeting in HQ in twenty minutes and I need to shower and change first."

She walked to the door and was about to open it when Henman´s voice held her back, "You don´t care for revenge, Major? Does that mean you feel no anger, rage, not even hatred towards the people who did those things to you?"

Jo halted with her hand on the door handle for a moment and Henman could see how her knuckles turned white from the strength of her grip. Then, still with her back turned, she answered, "Of course I do, Doctor. Of course there is a part of me that wants to hear them scream in pain, have them beg for mercy when cigarettes are extinguished on their thighs, or see them be humiliated in front of a room of laughing soldiers when they soil themselves because they´re unable to control bowel or bladder."

She turned around to face Henman, staring directly into her eyes, "Of course I feel all those things and more, but do you know what I feel the most when I think of them?"

Henman showed no reaction to Jo´s words and just asked quietly as though she already knew the answer, "What do you feel?"

Something resembling a sneer showed on Jo´s face and her eyes glinted, but then all emotion faded and her voice was low and resigned as she spoke, "Fear, Doctor. I feel fear. I´m afraid of them… even now, even with all this distance between us…" She held Henman´s gaze for a couple of seconds, then added very softly, "But that doesn´t mean I won´t put a bullet in their heads should I ever come across some of them again."

She gave the doctor a curt nod and then walked briskly out of the office, leaving the door wide open behind her.

Outside the sun was beating down from a practically clear sky, only occasionally dotted with a few white clouds, and in spite of only two days of warm and sunny weather the sandy ground beneath her feet was already hard as asphalt. Jo hurried across the compound, greeting a few acquaintances on the way, but not making any stops or getting into conversations. The session with Doctor Henman had taken longer than she had planned and she would have to hurry if she was to make herself presentable before the meeting with Messina and her officers. The talk with Henman had also brought up topics she didn´t care to think of if she could avoid it, but she had learned the hard way that things rarely went her way when the therapist was involved. And she was actually starting to get used to it. Sort of.

Closing the door behind her, she stopped abruptly when she heard the sound of running water from the bathroom. It was only close to three p.m. and Mickey wasn´t supposed to be home for several more hours. Frowning, she pulled off her damp shirt and threw it on the bed, wiping her sweaty forehead in her t-shirt before walking over to the bathroom and cracking the door open. Mickey was in the shower all right and judging from the steam enveloping the room and the amount of moisture on the outside of the shower curtain and the surface of the mirror, had been for quite a while.

Brow furrowing for a moment in puzzlement, Jo smiled to herself as she recognized the song Mickey was half singing, half humming as one of the more raunchier tunes the soldiers guarding the gates at night liked to sing to keep themselves entertained. She hadn´t been aware Mickey knew that particular song, but she had to admit she was singing it very nicely and with enough gusto to make even a seasoned veteran blush like a schoolgirl.

Although she had only intended to make sure it really was Mickey in the bathroom, Jo suddenly found herself lingering in the doorway, pushing the door all the way open to get a better look. The shower curtain wasn´t quite as see-through as she would have liked, and the steam in the room was also making it hard to see anything properly, but still she was able to get a pretty good view of Mickey moving around in the shower. A faint smile playing on her lips, Jo watched with great interest as she began to lather and then rinse her hair, blue eyes intently following the paths of foam running down her back and all the way to her feet.

Following the same trail upwards, this time a lot slower, Jo felt a sudden stirring in her body and for the briefest of seconds she looked caught unawares, then a lopsided grin spread on her face when she realized what it was she was feeling. It was something she hadn´t felt for quite awhile, at least not without it being overshadowed and ultimately ruined by other emotions.

Too engrossed in watching, it took Jo a moment or two to notice that Mickey had stopped moving and wasn´t singing anymore. Gazing up, she saw a soapy hand appear from behind the plastic curtain, drawing it slightly aside and a blond head looked outside.

"Jo?" Mickey stared at her, obviously startled, but then she let out a small breath, smiling fleetingly, "You scared me. I didn´t hear you come in."

Jo smiled quickly in return, shifting a little nervously on her feet, "I just… I…" She suddenly felt like she had been trespassing, spying, and was at a loss as to what to say further. It didn´t help either that she now had a generous view of most of Mickey´s upper body, glistening wet and dripping with water, and as much as she tried to prevent it, her gaze kept dropping below Mickey´s face.

The faintest hint of a smile grazed Mickey´s lips and she subtly pulled on the shower curtain to make it reveal even more of herself, and the smile on her face was replaced by a look of knowing when she saw Jo´s devouring eyes instantly come to rest on the newly bared area of skin. The intense concentration clearly depicted on Jo´s face was all it took to send Mickey´s blood coursing through her veins as her heart began to beat faster, and she was extremely tempted to just draw the rest of the curtain aside to see what would happen. But something held her back and instead she asked softly, trying to sound as casual as possible, "Care to join me?"

The low question was the incentive Jo needed to finally be able to tear her eyes away, and she blushed lightly when she looked up to see the smile Mickey was giving her. "Um…" She cleared her throat, pretending not to see the grin it elicited from Mickey. "I´d love to… I really would… but I have this meeting to go to and I´m going to be late if…" She gestured vaguely at the shower and Mickey, surprised beyond reason by her own misplaced adolescent behaviour. It wasn´t like she hadn´t seen Mickey naked before after all, but she didn´t seem to be able to help it.

However, before she had time to ponder the thought more thoroughly, Mickey asked, "You mean the meeting Messina´s having shortly about what to do with the refugees?"

"Yeah," Jo shook her head imperceptibly, managing to clear it from almost all distracting thoughts. "You know about it?"

"Yes. As a matter of fact, I have been asked to be there to present her with the medical status of all the new arrivals and the result of the blood samples. But since it´s already late…" Mickey shot a sidelong glance at her wristwatch lying on the sink, but was unable to tell the time from that distance, and shrugging slightly, she continued with a sly grin, "If you come in here… we can be late together?"

Jo grinned a little, staring indecisively down at the floor and rocking back and forth on her heels for a moment before making up her mind and answering with a sigh, "Well, it´s tempting, it really is… but no. I can´t be late." She looked up to meet Mickey´s eyes, giving her a friendly but pointed look, "And neither can you, Mickey, you´re to appear before the important players of the Organisation in a few minutes and they hate waiting."

Mickey let out a dramatic sigh, softening it with a smile, "Typical! I finally get to play with the cool kids and then…" She winked at Jo and retreated into the shower, quickly washing the remains of shampoo out of her hair. Stepping back out, she nearly bumped into Jo who was bending down before her, unlacing her shoes.

"Needing a shower, too?"

"Yes," Jo straightened up and began to unbutton her trousers, blatantly studying Mickey as she took a towel from a peg and wrapped it around her dripping body. "I was working out with Basil before seeing Dr. Henman and I didn´t have time to shower in between. If I don´t do it now, I´ll be ripe by the time the meeting starts."

"Which is in exactly five minutes," Mickey informed her with a teasing smile, noticing Jo´s gaze but deciding not to comment. "You´d better hurry."

Jo mumbled something unintelligible in reply, letting the trousers fall down around her ankles before kicking them off. Standing in the doorway, Mickey took a moment to appreciate the view, consciously trying not to look at the pale and not so pale scars generously littered across the back of Jo´s thighs. Yet when Jo took off her t-shirt she had to close her eyes for a few seconds, fighting the nausea she felt by the sight of the angry red stripes covering her entire back.

She knew they were there of course, had cleaned them and dressed them herself on more occasions than she cared to remember. But one thing was dealing with it as a doctor mechanically doing her job, another was it to have to face it now, in everyday life situations where it was just the two of them, and Mickey still wasn´t used to it. She shivered involuntarily, suddenly feeling as though something foreign had entered the room, something that didn´t belong.

Forcing all unpleasant thoughts from her mind, she stepped up behind Jo, putting her chin on her shoulder and carefully slipping an arm around her back. So happy was she that she didn´t feel Jo´s body tense from her touch that she just stood there, forgetting what it was she had wanted to say.

"Mickey?" Jo turned her head, glancing down at her. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Mickey smiled, not quite as convincingly as she would have liked, but almost. "Just had an impulse."

"An impulse?" Jo repeated a little sceptically, searching Mickey´s face, but not finding anything to cause her worry. "Yes," Mickey replied with a bigger smile, placing a lingering kiss on Jo´s shoulder before moving away again. "An impulse because you´re so goddamn irresistible, baby, in spite of having enough bad habits and mood swings to make even people with multiple personalities jealous."

Ducking the towel Jo tossed after her, Mickey laughed and returned to the doorway and was about to continue outside when, almost as an afterthought, she halted, looking back at Jo who was just stepping into the shower. Waiting for just a heartbeat, she spoke, her innocent tone of voice not quite matching the look on her face, "Oh, and by the way, Jo… there may not be any hot water left…"

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