

CAN YOU

MEND IT?

Part 3 - TRUST

## by Billy Wood-Smith

#

_Copyright © 2015 Billy Wood-Smith_

_All rights reserved. No part of this to publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any from or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without prior permission of the author._

_This novel is a work of fiction._

_Names, characters, events and even some locations are purely fictitious and a work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental._

_For_ _more on the books_ _(such as Who's Who; some more info on the characters; a timeline etc.)_ _and the author_ _check out the official website_

http://www.billywoodsmith.com

**Table of Contents**

Pete letting go?

Work Issues

What Sarah knows

Breaking in

While normal people enjoy the sunshine...

Here's the Deal

A Pill and a Kidnapping

A Cable Car Ride

World from Above

A Night at the Mountain

The Crap from the Past

Descending

Foreign Country Code

Back to Work

Back to Amsterdam

D and Robert

Jan's Offer

Talk to her anyway...

Navigating Tricky Terrain

Dinner with Christine

Massage

The Guy in the Mirror

Child Psychology

Can you make it?

What's he doing here?

I've got it for you...

Grandma's Birthday

Early Departure

Working

Change of Plans

Visitor

Accident

There's Someone Here for You

A Hospital Visit and an Evening Together

What is this going to be?

An Invitation

Seriously?

Blackmail

Trip to Italy

Firenze

Views, Kisses and Some New Ideas

Toothbrush Variations

# Pete letting go?

(Friday, August 30th)

D got home around two, feeling like a dazed, love-drunk teenager. Not even the prospect of having to meet with Pete in two hours could spoil this.

Humming to herself, she got the two paper bags with Pete's stuff out of the spare room and set them next to the coffee table.

So, this was finally going to be the last act of the Pete-drama. She was so ready for it to be over! She was going to give him his stuff and that would be it. Finally! And today she would be immune to all the things he did or said that usually dragged her down and made her feel unfair, cruel or as if she were expecting the impossible. After last night she knew for sure that the indefinable something that had always seemed to be missing when she was with Pete, could still really exist.

She was about ready to leave home and head to the Riverside Café when Pete called and told her he couldn't make it in time. He was at an insurance company in Innsbruck to help them prepare for an audit, and he wouldn't be able to leave for another hour or so.

"How about I call you when I'm done, and we go out for an early dinner instead?" he suggested.

D couldn't help feeling an immediate flash of anger. Nothing ever went as planned with him! Now he wanted to do dinner. And she could hardly say no without triggering an endless discussion.

"Okay," she said, struggling for a neutral tone. "Just call me when you're about to leave, and I'll take off from here."

"Why don't I pick you up," he suggested. "We could finally try that restaurant up the hill that we never got to while we were together."

D was about to tell him that she'd rather drive there in her own car, but then she stopped herself. The way he had just said 'while we were together' gave her hope that he had finally accepted that it was really over between them. That's all that mattered.

Having dinner with him wasn't what she had envisioned for today, but now, that the end of this drama was in sight, she should probably just go along with it.

Pete arrived ninety minutes later with flowers, a box of marzipan pralines and in an unexpectedly good mood – given the occasion.

When he saw her frown at the gifts, he hurriedly explained that the flowers were an apology for last week's party, and the pralines were from his Mom.

"She has a hard time getting used to you not coming by anymore," he said with a little smile. "But that's just the way it is. She'll get over it – eventually."

A little baffled at yet another positive sign that Pete might finally be seeing their split-up as a fact, D took the flowers and the box of chocolates and let him in.

"Thanks," she said. "I'll miss your Mom too. Just seems kind of inappropriate for me to keep in touch with her when we're..."

Pete nodded. "Yeah, that would be a little strange."

She put the flowers in a vase, filled it with water and then left it beside the sink. Pete was waiting in the entryway, ready to leave.

Considering that he had just come straight from work, he seemed surprisingly relaxed. She had been sure he'd show up stressed and tense, and still wearing his suit and tie – or one of those silk scarfs he had started wearing lately. But he wasn't. He must have left the suit jacket in the car, he was wearing neither a tie nor a scarf, the top button of his shirt was open, the sleeves were rolled up and his overall demeanor was more laid-back and upbeat than she had seen him in a long time. Who would have thought?

The dinner went well.

The food was great and so was the view from their table. The atmosphere was friendly and the conversation unexpectedly relaxed. It had been a while since they had last talked so freely about anything that came to mind, and not just about their relationship.

All in all, D found herself enjoying the evening. She told him a little about her time in London (leaving out the job issue) and about having cleaned out her closets, and he spoke about some new neighbors that had just moved in next door to him about his sister's baby boy and about some little annoyances at work. The dreaded references to how he couldn't live without her and how much she'd hurt him didn't occur at all. It was a pleasant surprise.

After dinner he drove her home.

His two bags were still at her flat.

On the ride back, D mentioned the bamboo plant in her backyard that he had once bought for her and that wasn't doing too well. She asked him if he might want to take it and try to save it. She had never really liked the plant, and from the way it seemed, the plant knew that and was about to commit suicide. Pete decided that he would have a look at it.

# Work Issues

(Friday, August 30th)

After D had left, Joe had put away his and D's breakfast dishes while listening to Sarah, who was still drinking her coffee, rave about the 'Me and my Cello' performance she had seen the previous night. She had found it absolutely hilarious and insisted on showing him some funny scenes that she spontaneously found on YouTube. It really was funny; and Joe consequently even checked out other tour dates for the show online and found one at a venue not too far from Innsbruck in three weeks. He'd ask Danny tonight, if she wanted to go to that.

The day passed uneventful. He went to the supermarket to get some things to restock Sarah's fridge and pantry. So far, it had been mainly Sarah doing the grocery shopping, and he realized that he better start contributing his share or Sarah would get pissed sooner or later.

He also washed some clothes and re-organized his dresser drawers. Which meant that he threw most of the old stuff out that he had left here when he had moved and replaced it with the clothes he had picked up from the place in Munich a week ago.

Once everything was put away, he turned on his laptop to check his emails.

Steve had sent a message titled Miscellaneous.

Joe,

I think the Arlin program looks great. We did a test run and it seems to work fine. Some great ideas.

Wanted to let you know that Jan called a few times. He wanted to talk to you but was okay talking to Eric at the end. I think Eric got everything under control. And since you're going to Amsterdam next week anyway, SCANY should be fine.

By the way, I talked to Mom on the phone yesterday and it sounds like Liz told them that you're currently gone a lot and she (Liz) is supposedly concerned because you're working way too much... So, Mom asked me why it had to always be you going on those trips and if we don't have anyone else that could do the traveling instead. Anyway, looks to me as if my sister is still trying to keep the dream alive. Just a warning...

Not much else. I'll leave the office earlier today. Flight leaves at 22:00.

Steve

After that, there was another Email from Steve.

Joe,

Sorry, but something just came up. See attached Email from TCT in Florence. Last time I talked to Luca he said there was no rush. Therefore I have not even started working on their program. From what he writes, I'd say it is pretty urgent now... Sorry to throw this at you last minute! Please look into it. Maybe you can just buy us some time until I get back.

Thanks.

Steve

Joe checked the attached Email. Luca wrote about just having been notified by the supplier of the program they were running alongside the software from R&D that there wouldn't be any further updates. The announcement had obviously come unexpected. Considering that there were some compatibility issues with the R&D software already now, Luca expressed his concern that the next R&D update in less than a month would lead to serious problems. He had, already for a while, discussed with Steve the possibility of replacing the other software with a customized R&D solution but – since there hadn't been any real urgency – he had procrastinated giving the go-ahead for R&D to develop something. In his e-mail he apologized, but asked if there was any way to get that replacement software up and running within the next four weeks.

Scratching his head, Joe thought about this for a moment. He had had a few conversations with Steve on the matter and therefore knew which program and which problems Luca was referring to. And he had to agree with Steve and Luca that there definitely was some urgency now. He better start thinking about a solution... He surely wouldn't get bored in the coming two weeks at the office.

It was almost 5:00 pm when he went downstairs and had a bite to eat.

D hadn't called yet. She was going to get in touch with him once her meeting with Pete was over. At the thought of Pete, Joe growled to himself and quickly shoved a big bite of bread into his mouth.

After his snack, he pulled Sarah's laptop closer. She'd left it out on the kitchen table for him, so he could have a look at it. She had had some trouble with it lately and had asked him to see if there was anything he could do. So he played around with it for almost ninety minutes. After that, the laptop was as good as new – with all problems solved.

Stretching his arms over his head, he leaned back in the kitchen chair, yawned and glanced over at the clock on the microwave. With a sting of irritation he realized that it was almost seven o'clock already. Danny still hadn't called. How long could her meeting with Pete possibly take? She should be done with him by now. Or not?

He was still pondering this when his phone started to ring on the table.

Chuckling to himself at the perfect timing, he reached for the phone – and realized that it wasn't Danny. It was some 0031 number. Someone from the Netherlands.

He picked up.

"Hello?"

"Joe...? This is Jan. From SCANY."

"Oh, Hi Jan," Joe couldn't hide his surprise at getting a call from Jan on his private phone when all his business calls were supposedly being diverted to R&D. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," Jan said. "Just – I apologize for calling you like this. I know this is your private number, but –"

"That's fine," Joe hurried to say. "What's up? Any problems?"

Jan laughed a little uncomfortably. "No, no problems. I just... Well, the last few times I called R&D and tried to get a hold of you, I was always referred to this Eric guy. Well – he's smart and helpful – don't get me wrong. And he took care of all the questions we had. Still, I just wanted to make sure you're still... I mean, you're not leaving R&D, are you?"

"No, ahm, not that I know of," Joe said.

"You're not in the office much though, right?" Jan insisted. "Are you sick? Or did you and Steve have a fallout?"

"No, no," Joe couldn't help laughing. "Nothing like that. But you're right, I'm not in the office much at the moment. It's kind of... how should I say. Some stuff in my personal life has changed and I decided to take a time out." Just as he said it, he realized that Jan had been more than just a business partner long enough to actually deserve the truth rather than some cryptic hints.

"Actually, and this is between you and me," he therefore said, "I broke up with my girlfriend that I've been living with. I moved out, and I am still trying to figure out if I'll just get a new place close-by or work off-site from somewhere else. Right now I'm staying with my sister in Innsbruck. Needed a vacation anyway... But I'm definitely not leaving R&D."

"Oh, okay," Jan sounded relieved. "Glad to hear that. I just... I just needed to ask."

"Yeah, sure. I understand," Joe said.

"Are you still coming to Amsterdam next week?" Jan asked. "Or is Steve sending that Eric?"

"No, I'll be coming myself," Joe assured him, "But Eric's good too."

"Yeah, probably, but... I still prefer working with you, if I have a choice."

Joe couldn't help laughing. "That's nice to hear. Thanks."

"I mean it!" Jan said. "And, by the way, if you're seriously thinking about a change of scenery, what about relocating to Amsterdam? You could work out of SCANY. Of course you'd still be with R&D. Nothing would have to change there... Just a thought."

"O-kay," Joe didn't quite know what to say.

"Really, just a thought."

"Okay, yeah... I'll ... I'll think about it."

"Good. Glad we talked. Sorry I called you on your private mobile."

"No problem."

"I'll see you on Monday then."

"Right. See you then."

# What Sarah knows

(Saturday, August 31st)

It was Saturday just before noon when Sarah came home from Jack's. She was only swinging by the house to quickly change into a bikini and a dress, pick up her towel and some other stuff and then head back to Jack's place so they could go to the lake together. It was another warm and sunny day.

Neither Joe's nor D's car were anywhere to be seen, and Sarah concluded that her brother and D were out somewhere, enjoying the weather and doing something fun. She just hoped they hadn't gone to the lake as well. She wouldn't really want to run into them there. Jack and she were still somewhat struggling themselves with the transition from a platonic friendship to – well – a whole lot more. Being around her brother (who at least knew something) and D (who had no idea unless Joe had told her) would therefore be a bit weird.

Entering the house now, Sarah made a mental note to herself that she needed to have a little talk with D one of these days and tell her about the changes regarding Jack...

She went up to her room and got changed. Then she grabbed her bag that she usually took swimming, stuffed a large towel, sun protection, an extra bikini and a paperback inside and returned downstairs. She was just taking a small bottle of juice out of the fridge to take with her, when she heard the front door being unlocked.

Footsteps approached, and a moment later Joe appeared in the doorway.

"Oh, Hi," he said. "I didn't think you'd be home already."

"I'm actually on my way out again," Sarah smiled. "Just picking up some stuff to go to the lake."

"Oh, okay," he nodded, his gaze drifting off to the side.

"I'm surprised you're home," she said.

"I just picked up my car," he replied with a shrug.

"Yeah, right," Sarah said. "I wasn't sure when you'd get it back." She leaned against the kitchen counter behind her. "Are you happy with it?"

He nodded. "Looks like new." There wasn't much enthusiasm.

"Well, I'm glad!" Sarah grinned. "That stupid evil bitch!"

"Mhmm." Joe nodded absent-mindedly and refrained from contributing his own thoughts on Liz.

"Did D drive you there?" Sarah asked as she watched him walk across the kitchen.

He shook his head and opened the fridge.

"I just biked there," he said without turning around. "Bike's still on the car." He took a container with potato salad out of the fridge, got a fork from the drawer and sat down at the kitchen table.

Sarah frowned at him. "Is that your lunch?"

His eyes on the potato salad, Joe shook his head and took a forkful right out of the container. "No, this is dessert. I just had a burger on the way to the car place."

"Oh, I see..." Sarah said with raised eyebrows. "Dessert..."

"Yep!" he took another bite. Then he glanced up at her. "So, you're going to the lake with Jack, huh?"

"Yep," Sarah nodded. "What's your plan for the afternoon?"

He shrugged, his eyes dropping to the advertisements in front of him that had come with the newspaper. "Don't know yet."

"What's D doing?" Sarah asked, assuming he would have plans with D.

Across from her, Joe seemed to come to a brief and odd halt, mid-fork-lifting-movement. Then he shrugged again, something twitching in his jaw.

"No idea," he said and, without looking at her, shoved a forkful of potato salad into his mouth.

Sarah watched him, not sure if she was just imagining it or if his behavior was indeed a little strange.

"Have you talked to her?" she asked, just following a hunch.

There was a moment of silence. Then Joe glanced up and exhaled sharply. With a swift shake of his head, he stuck the fork right into the middle of the salad and pushed the container to the side.

Sarah felt her stomach knot.

"Is everything okay?" she asked even though, at this point, she was relatively sure the answer could only be negative.

His gaze fixed on the fork now, Joe scoffed. "I haven't got the slightest idea."

Sarah was eyeing him cautiously, wishing he'd elaborate a bit. But instead of saying anything else, he pulled the advertisements closer and looked at them as if he had the greatest interest in checking out those great deals right now.

"What's wrong?" Sarah asked.

With a jerky, little shrug he started to leaf through the advertisement. "I don't know," he said flatly. "Maybe nothing's wrong at all..." He pretended to be attentively studying the picture of a sparsely-dressed woman riding a lawn-mower.

"But you think there's something wrong," Sarah diagnosed.

He turned the flyer around to a full page of garden tools and inhaled sharply. Then, folding his arms over his chest, he leaned back in his chair and raised his eyes to her, a hard look on his face.

"Well, let's see..." he said darkly. "Ever since Pete came by yesterday afternoon, we seem to have a problem getting in touch." His tone was sarcastic. "She didn't call me last night although she said she would, and she's not picking up her phone either. So, yeah, I can't deny that something seems a bit off..."

Sarah felt her jaw drop at the mention of Pete.

"It sounded like it really wasn't a big deal," he grumbled. "Just him picking up his stuff, you know, but..." Instead of finishing his sentence he just shrugged and huffed out an angry breath.

Sarah was about to blurt out something like 'He still hasn't picked up his crap?' but then she stopped herself. Instead she said, "Maybe there's just something wrong with her phone..."

"Yeah, right," Joe coughed, rolling his eyes. "How likely is that, you think?"

Feeling extremely uncomfortable, Sarah glared at the tile floor between them and decided not to answer. It hadn't sounded like a serious question anyway.

"You need to help me out here..." Joe suddenly said.

Sarah's eyes darted up to him. "What?" she asked with a frown. "How am I supposed to do that? I can hardly call her and hand you my phone as soon as she picks up..."

"No one asked you to call her!" Joe snapped. "I just need you to tell me what's up with Pete. Because honestly, so far, the whole Pete-thing has been a bit of an annoyance to me, but that was about it. I tried to keep out of it. Because I didn't really feel entitled to get territorial – given the history. But I'm starting to think that I should have maybe given this a bit more attention..." He paused for a moment and gave Sarah a firm look. "I really need to know what's going on there."

"Huh?" Sarah's eyes widened. "What makes you think I would know?

"Well, something tells me that you know a lot more about this than I do.".

Sarah shook her head. "I didn't even know Pete was coming by," she told him. "I haven't talked to D about this for quite a while. Lately you seem to be much more up-to-date on the Pete-topic than I am."

"Oh, come on," Joe gave her an annoyed roll of his eyes. "You're best friends. You must know something!"

Sarah let out a humorless little laugh. "Is this my keep-out-of-it-this-time-I-really-mean-it brother telling me to give him insider information on D and Pete?" She tried to make it sound funny, but she didn't find this funny at all.

"I guess," Joe confirmed stiffly.

For a moment they just looked at each other across the room. Then Joe shrugged. "All I know is that they broke up – I'm not even sure why and when and whose idea it was. I was informed that they are still friends or whatever, and that she was going to that stupid party with the fucking jerk, while – at the same time – she was apparently looking at a job in London just to get as far away from him as she could." He paused for a moment. "Not much logic in that as far as I am concerned." He angrily shook his head. "Well, and let's not forget, I also know that she... well – that she stays overnight with me, and then Pete comes by the following day, and I don't hear a beep from her after that." He huffed out an irritated breath. "So, yes, this is me asking you for some insider information! I need to know what I'm missing here!"

Across from him, Sarah was scrambling to come up with something helpful to say.

"Sarah!!!" Joe leaned forward on the table, his eyes trained on her. "Would you please give me a quick educational overview here?"

Sarah swallowed and sucked in some air. Right this minute she wished he had stuck to his keep-out-of-it rule. This whole thing came as a bit of a shock to her, and she had absolutely no idea what to tell him. She had assumed that, with D just having spent Thursday night in Joe's bed, the Pete-problem must have previously been solved. Unfortunately, from the way it looked now, it wasn't solved at all! This was just unbelievably idiotic! What the hell was D doing?

A little hopeful voice inside Sarah's head reminded her that there was, of course, the possibility that D had finally solved the Pete-problem yesterday afternoon. Maybe she had given Pete his stuff and then kicked him out of her life forever. Could be... Only, if that were the case, why would she not pick up her phone or call Joe when she said she would?

Grrr! Sarah felt her blood start to simmer. She would have liked to get in her car right now, drive straight over to D's and get to the bottom of this – even if it involved yelling at her best friend for the very first time.

However, with Joe sitting there across the kitchen and waiting for the demanded briefing, there was no time to do any more research or have a quick talk with D on the matter and get back to him later.

"Sarah!!!" Joe snapped impatiently. "What the hell is going on?"

Sarah gave him a frustrated look. How in the world did she always get caught up in shitty situations like this?

"Okay," she finally sighed and let her gaze trail to the side. "If you really want me to get into this, here we go." She paused again, not sure – despite the grand introduction – what exactly to tell him. "I personally think that, if Pete hasn't picked up all his stuff by now, that's his own damn fault! D should just dump it all into the garbage! But that's just mean, heartless me, who never liked Pete in the first place." She paused again, realizing that this was probably not the kind of information Joe was looking for. "D would never do such a thing of course," she continued angrily. "D is fair and nice and patient, even when she should kick him in the ass. And you know why, right? Because she thinks she owes him. She thinks it's the least she can do after breaking his sensitive, little heart. I mean – yeah, poor Pete, but really... She's been about ready to end this for quite a while. Finally put her foot down almost three months ago. It's about time he got over it."

"Three months?" Joe interrupted incredulously. "It's been that long?"

"Yeah," Sarah said slowly. He apparently didn't have the slightest idea regarding the timeline. "In my opinion, he's had plenty of time to pick up his crap," she announced. "And it's not like he hasn't been by her place a few times – supposedly to do just that... I don't understand why D puts up with it, I really don't. And why she still agrees to see him. But well... like I said – guilt!"

Joe's expression had darkened. "Keep going..."

Sarah swallowed. "I don't know what exactly you want me to tell you," she said tensely. "It's just – to me, it almost seems as if Pete just flat-out ignores that she doesn't want to be with him." She paused for a moment and reflected on how to best say this without making D look like a spineless idiot. "She's wanted to end it for almost a year, I think. But then it's taken her a while to work up the courage – or should I say coldness? – to tell him. And even after she told him, he just refused to let go. He keeps calling, tells her how much he loves her, he tries to convince her that she's an idiot if she doesn't realize how perfect they were together and blah blah blah. He's a real manipulative prick, if you ask me! And now he milks the friendship thing for all it's worth. Does she not even like him enough to be friends? After all this time together...? That's kind of the way he argues. I've told her more than once that she needs to cut him off. Radically. She told me that's easier said than done. Which is probably true, but still..."

She paused again and glanced at her brother. His expression had turned controlled and unreadable.

"What I'm telling you here is my personal impression, okay?" Sarah hurried to say. "It's not necessarily something D told me. In fact, she really hasn't told me all that much. But I've been around a few times when he called during the past few months, and she got all tense and upset and let slip a few things afterwards. Like – that he still hadn't cancelled a vacation they had planned together, or that he suddenly put such an emphasis on their friendship and all that kind of crap. He just... I don't know. I'd almost call it psycho terror, but that's just me. I think he doesn't give a shit if she loves him or not, or what she wants. He wants to be with her and that's all that counts. And he has a special talent to make her feel so bad and guilty that she might just go along with what he wants for a while, just to have her peace. And then she ends up hating him and herself, and... well – I mean, it's complicated when someone claims they love you so much and you... just don't. I can see that. And I understand. Still..." She shrugged.

Joe had been listening. Sometime during her report, his gaze had shifted to the table and she wasn't totally sure if he understood what she was trying to say.

A few seconds after she had stopped talking, he looked up again. "Okay..." he said flatly. "That was a lovely and disturbing summary." He exhaled audibly and nodded.

Sarah wasn't sure what that nod was all about.

Suddenly he let out a humorless laugh and dropped his gaze to the advertisements.

"Well, I'm not totally up to date either," Sarah muttered defensively.

She had no idea what was going on in his head right now. "What I'm telling you here is information from a month ago."

Joe nodded again, his eyes fixed on the pictures of various garden tools. He looked as if he was pondering something. (It probably had nothing to do with new hedge shears or leaf rakes.)

Suddenly his eyes trailed up again. "You mentioned going along with something," he said, not letting her out of his sight. "What exactly are we talking about?"

Struggling to hold his gaze, Sarah resisted the urge to grind her teeth. Maybe she should have just left that 'going along' part out. Somehow she had really gotten a little carried away.

"Well, going to that party with him, for example..." she said evasively.

Joe's eyes narrowed. "That's all you meant?" He tilted his head to the side. "Or how far does this going along with what he wants really go, do you think?"

Sarah could have kicked herself for having brought that up. He wasn't going to let it go now, of course!

"I don't know, okay?" she mumbled, suddenly scrambling for a way out of this. "I can tell you what he wants, but I can't tell you how successful he is at getting it. Everything I'm telling you here is absolutely off the record, okay? And some of it is only what I pieced together reading between the lines! I may have read this totally wrong... Definitely should have put it differently..."

The look Joe gave her, told her that pedaling back now was senseless. She had put something into his head, and there was no way she could still erase it now.

"All I know is that Pete is extremely manipulative," she said, trying to put it into some perspective at least. "And from his point of view they are both single, so... But D would never – I mean – with you two being back toge–" Sarah interrupted herself and gave him a cautious, questioning look. "Well, are you actually back together?"

Joe shrugged and pushed his chair back as if to get up. "Until half an hour ago I'd have told you we're testing it," he said gravely, "But after what I've just heard, I actually think we can skip that test!"

Blowing out some air through clenched teeth, he got up. He shook his head, turned around and headed out into hallway. "I think I'll go upstairs. Have fun at the lake!"

Alone in the kitchen now, Sarah felt almost a bit sick. Their conversation was replaying in her head and she desperately wished she hadn't said a few of the things she had told him.

From upstairs she could hear really loud, not exactly pretty music now – death metal or whatever that noise was called. She hadn't even known he owned that kind of music. It was definitely not the kind that could be expected to have a positive effect on his mood.

Sarah pondered her options for a moment. Then she left the kitchen and walked up the stairs.

She didn't bother to knock. He wouldn't have heard it anyway, and he most likely wouldn't have asked her in. So she just burst into his room without knocking.

Joe was lying stretched out on his bed, his head resting on a pillow that was propped up against the headboard, his arms folded over his chest, his legs crossed at the ankles. With a hard expression he seemed to be glaring into space.

Sarah walked around his bed and turned the stereo off.

His eyes darted over to her and he gave her a threatening look. "Just leave me alone!" he snarled.

Standing next to his bed, Sarah placed her hands on her hips. "So, that's it, huh?" she challenged. "Now you're mad and your ego's a little dented, and that's it?"

"That's what I'm just trying to decide," he grumbled. "Why don't you leave me alone, Sarah?"

Sarah scoffed. "Yeah, now I'm supposed to stay out of it again, huh? First you drag me into this, make me say things I shouldn't be telling you and then..." Instead of finishing her sentence, she angrily shook her head. "You're not an angel yourself!" She pointed a finger at him. "So, don't you lie there and behave like you've been betrayed! If D isn't responding, it's probably not because she's happily back together with Pete... My guess is as good as yours here, but I kind of think that something's happened. And whatever it is, I'm kind of afraid she doesn't only hate Pete and herself now, but she's shutting you out, because she assumes that you'd hate her too."

"Well, maybe she's right..." Joe growled.

"Well, just suit yourself, Joe!" Sarah blasted. "But you know – and forgive my honesty – when it comes to D, you have no right to be so touchy. After what you did three years ago, I'd say you owe her."

Joe blinked at her, looking baffled. Then his expression hardened.

Determined to use the time she still had before he kicked her out, Sarah sucked in a quick breath and continued. "If you want to just abort your tests and move on" she said, "go right ahead. You'll find some replacement easily, won't you? And if not, you're always welcome to work in my garden or fix my computer or do other stuff like that to keep you entertained. But I saw you yesterday – at breakfast – and I would recommend that you think twice before walking away from this because you seemed pretty happy then." She paused for a moment and caught her breath, expecting him to tell her to get the hell out. Surprisingly, he didn't, though. He just lay there, gloomily staring at her and chewed on his lower lip.

"Man, Joe just pull yourself together and jump over your slightly bruised ego," Sarah said, her tone a little softer now. "Make sure D gets rid of Pete for good! You can be creative..." With that she turned the music back on – on lower volume than before – and left his room, shutting the door behind herself.

She went downstairs, grabbed her stuff and, as she headed out the door, called Jack to inform him that she was on her way.

She couldn't wait to be with Jack – a sane person!

# Breaking in

(Saturday, August 31st)

D heard the doorbell through a thick haze. That annoying, nerve-wrecking dingdong sound that just wouldn't stop.

She turned over, yanked the comforter over her head and buried her face in the pillow. She desperately tried to tune out that bell. All she wanted, was to go back to sleep. Or better: just die. Anything that would guarantee that her brain was turned off at least temporarily and that she didn't have to see anyone.

The doorbell continued ringing.

She could just picture Pete standing out there, all remorseful now; desperate to tell her how incredibly sorry he was for what had happened last night.

She wanted to kill him!

She should have never let him in yesterday. It had been so moronically wrong!

She had let herself be lured into thinking that he had finally accepted their breakup. Especially after – towards the end of the car ride to her place – he had suddenly told her, a little awkwardly, that he had started going out with a new colleague from work. He had delivered this information almost like a confession – and as if he was wary of her reaction.

She had had to keep herself from cheering and clapping her hands at the news. She had seen it as a sign that he had moved on, maybe found somebody who fit better and who shared his interests and views more than she ever had.

And then, just as they had been walking from his car to her front door, Pete had said that he still hadn't cancelled their trip to Spain. She had started at him in awe, ready to blurt out if he was crazy, when he had hurriedly explained that he would have lost nearly all the money with the late cancellation and that he had therefore decided to postpone the trip a few months – in the hopes that maybe, by that time, his colleague would come along.

He had avoided eye-contact while he had told her this, and she could tell that he wasn't sure how she would take it. She had told him that she thought this was a good idea. His hinting at having fallen in love with someone else and even wanting to go on vacation with that person, had felt like the final absolution.

They had entered her flat and headed straight out to the deck where she had turned the terrace light on and pointed towards the bamboo in the garden below. Pete had gone down there to inspect the plant while she had stayed on the deck, hugging herself because she was getting a bit cold in just her summer dress.

Pete had quickly made up his mind that he would take the plant home with him. He had picked up the planter and carried it up the stairs. "I'll just take this to the car," he had told her in passing. "And then I'll be right back to get my stuff and say goodbye."

She had watched him disappear through the front door with the bamboo and had decided to quickly go to her bedroom to put on a cardigan. She had just slipped it on and turned around, when she had found Pete standing in the bedroom door.

"I didn't even hear you come back," she had said with a surprised, somewhat forced chuckle.

He had given her a weak smile and then dropped his gaze to the floor, his hand tracing the molding of the doorframe.

Something in the atmosphere seemed to have shifted.

"I'm really glad you took the plant," D had babbled, pulling the cardigan tighter around herself. "I would have probably just killed it."

Without looking up, Pete had given a short, awkward nod. He had just stood there with his shoulders slumped. And then D had seen him swallow hard.

Rubbing her hands over her upper arms, trying to fight the chill she still felt, she had struggled to come up with something light to say – to cut the tension that there suddenly seemed to be. But what do you say when this was goodbye now?

"This feels so strange," Pete mumbled, his voice thick. His gaze was still fixed on the carpet between them.

"I know..." She didn't known what else to say.

Across from her, Pete exhaled shakily and then glanced up at her with what looked like a brave smile. "Well, I guess that's it then," he said with a little shrug. "Just like that..."

Clenching her jaws, D had to keep herself from pointing out to him that the three months of struggle and endless discussions that lay behind them, didn't really qualify as just like that. But there was really no point in starting an argument about this now. It was finally over, and that was all that really mattered.

"I'll miss you," Pete said quietly, his light green eyes trying to catch hers.

"I'll miss you too," D muttered. She had dropped her gaze because she couldn't lie to his face. It was the least she could do in a situation like this – tell him that she'd miss him too...

"Can I give you a hug at least?" Pete took a hesitant step into the room. "For goodbye?" His voice was insecure. "And then I think it's probably better if we don't see each other for a while."

D was both shocked and relieved to hear him say this. Maybe he actually finally saw it too!

Even without her approval regarding the goodbye-hug, Pete stepped up to her now and, after a somewhat helpless shrug, he opened his arms. "Wish it would have worked," he said and pulled her into a cautious embrace.

"Yeah, me too," D mumbled, trying hard not to tense up. She forced herself to lift an arm to his back and rub it awkwardly.

She could see him briefly close his eyes at the touch. Then he pulled her closer and hugged her tighter – almost as if to get the most out of this last embrace.

She let him. This was goodbye. This was the last time. The last hug... So, why not just let him. No need to be cruel!

She stood there, hoping that it would end soon. Pete had slung his arms around her, one of his hands was running up her back and the other had just pushed into her hair. With some amazement she realized that she didn't feel a thing – besides a growing impatience for him to finally let go of her again. She didn't really like his new after-shave. And it suddenly bothered her that he was so much taller than her. In fact, he even seemed to be a bit taller than Joe, as she could glance over Joe's shoulder when he held her like this, but she couldn't quite look over Pete's... It was a weird thing to think about in this moment, but as she was struggling to hang in there and patiently endure this endless good-bye hug, that's where her thoughts drifted off to. This and the fact that she would have sworn that Joe was taller...

She was still waiting for this embrace to end.

But then it didn't end.

On the contrary.

Suddenly there was this gasping noise against the side of her head and Pete buried his face in her hair.

Crying.

D froze.

His arms still tightly around her, his body pressed against hers, she felt shocked and paralyzed. She had never seen him cry. She had heard him nag and moan and complain, but not cry. He was crying now. Sobbing like a child.

Before she knew what she was doing, one of her hands had moved to the back of his head – stroking his hair, in what was meant to be a consoling gesture. She couldn't bear to have him cry here. About her...

"Pete, please..." she stammered, glancing up at him and feeling absolutely helpless. "You just told me you've met someone else..."

He was looking back at her, his features distorting and his eyes brimming with tears. "It's not the same..." he breathed with a desperate shake of his head.

D stared at him, her head kind of spinning. What now?

Interpreting her stunned silence as melancholy over the same thing he was crying about, Pete raised a hand to her face and blinked through some tears while smiling a sad smile.

"Last time, okay?" he whispered and leaned down to kiss her.

D experienced this as an out of body experience of sorts: his lips on hers, first salty and cautious, then more firmly, hungrily roaming her mouth.

His arm around her back seemed to have tightened and he was pulling her even closer against himself now while his other hand in her hair was so firmly resting against the back of her head that it was impossible for her to turn away.

D registered all this through a haze of shock, her heart thumping and her stomach clenched. She knew perfectly well that it was all wrong. So dangerously wrong. But in that moment she was too dumbstruck and stunned to react. Pete was kissing her – in that same over-eager, fidgety and almost rough way he had always kissed her.

Some red flashing lights had come on in her mind, telling her to push. Push him away. But there was also this paralyzing, devastating realization that she might have encouraged this; brought it upon herself. That she might have sent out the entirely wrong signals. And that it was all her own fault.

"I know we shouldn't do this," Pete panted, his hand from her back having strayed. "But I'm lonely, and I know you are too, so why not?" His voice was suddenly hoarse. "Let's just do this. Okay? One last time – as friends..."

At that point D was with her back against the wall – Pete cornering her, pressing his body against hers, salty, hungry kisses indicating that he was still crying. The skirt of her dress had slipped up or been pushed up, with one of Pete hands firmly running over her thigh, his mouth pressed to hers.

"Stop that," she gasped, briefly managing to turn her head enough to escape that kiss. She pressed her hand against his chest, trying to push.

"But I love you, Danielle," Pete sobbed and crushed his mouth on hers again. "Last time, please. I love you..."

It made D feel like choking. He loved her despite everything. She wished he hated her instead. But he didn't. She could be as cold and cruel to him as she wanted – enough to make her hate herself – but he still loved her. There didn't seem to be any way out of this.

Suddenly Pete shifted against her, pressing her harder against the wall. And then there was this eerie sensation of something moist and hard slide against her inner thigh – one of Pete's hands pulling aside her slip while his body had started to move against her in a mix of grinding and shoving. By the time she realized what was happening, he had already pushed a little further.

It had the quality of an electric shock. And it finally reached her brain – full force – and triggered what should have been triggered long before.

"Are you crazy?" She pushed him away with such force and a kick against his leg that he stumbled backwards and landed on his knees on the carpet. Gasping, he caught himself on the bed.

Frantically straightening out her dress and her underwear, D stared at him. Horrified at what had happened. What she had let happen...

Pete scurried to his feet. He hastily pulled up his underwear and his pants. "I'm so sorry! Oh God, I'm sooo sorry!" His voice was panicky as if he had just run over the neighbor's cat and was trying to revive it with apologies.

"Please, forgive me..." he reached out and tried to touch her shoulder.

That's when she slapped his face.

Hard.

Another out-of-body experience. Somehow – in that very moment – her brain and limbs seemed to be acting independently of each other. Brain actually not working at all.

"Get out," she croaked, her voice failing her.

She stiffly pointed to the door. "Get out! Now!"

With an expression that reflected utter shock, Pete stared back at her for another moment, one hand rubbing his cheek. The skin where she had slapped him was starting to turn red.

Finally he turned around and stormed out of her bedroom. She heard him stomp through the living room, and only seconds later, the front door was opened and slammed shut.

In her bed, D was clutching her hand to her face now, her thumb and index finger pressed against her closed eyelids.

The bell was still ringing.

Dingdong. Dingdong. Dingdong.

Pete...

It made her stomach knot.

Pete... Relentlessly ringing the doorbell. Wanting to come in. Talk to her. Make things right.

Like that could ever happen...

Well, no matter how long he was intending to keep ringing that bell, she wasn't going to let him in.

If anything, she would have liked to get up and find a way to deactivate that stupid bell. But she might not make it out of bed right now. Even just lying here in the dark room, she felt limp, dazed and dizzy. There was this paralyzing combination of heavy fatigue and bottomless despair weighing on her like a heavy lead blanket.

Suddenly the bell stopped ringing and she relaxed a bit. But then, with the silence, her brain came to life again and started replaying scenes from last night once more...

Pushing her fingers into her hair she tried to push those memories away and cursed herself for her own, horrible naiveté and stupidity. She desperately wished it was yesterday morning instead.

As the memory of waking up next to Joe hit her, she slammed her fist into the pillow, curled up under her blanket and started to cry.

~~~

Sarah was getting out of her car at the parking lot outside Jack's building when Joe called her on her phone.

"Joe, what is it now?" Her tone that was anything but friendly. She pictured him still pouting on his bed, and she wasn't willing to deal with his attitude anymore for right now.

"Does she have a house key hidden anywhere?" Joe asked with an air of urgency.

"What?" Sarah didn't follow. "Who?"

"Danny," he snapped impatiently. "Is there a spare key to her place anywhere?"

Sarah hesitated. Was he at D's? Hadn't he indicated he was done with D? Well, obviously he did sometimes listen to what his sister told him. What a pleasant surprise.

"Sarah!?!" he barked.

"I hear you," Sarah retorted. "But I don't think you should just break in."

"I don't give a damn what you think I should or shouldn't do. Is there a key or not?"

"Joe," she said, trying to keep her voice down. "Listen... I... I tried to call her too and... well, yeah, the phone's turned off or something. Actually, I was going to talk to Jack and... maybe we should just come over there as well."

On the other end Joe sucked in an audible breath. "No Sarah, just stay where you are, okay? I don't need you here. I can handle it! Just fucking tell me if there's a key!"

"You cannot just break into D's place!" Sarah insisted, trying for a calming tone. "Maybe she's not home, maybe Pete is still there. You absolutely can't do that!"

Joe scoffed angrily, and Sarah thought she could almost hear him roll his eyes.

"There's no car around that looks like Pete's," he informed her tensely. "And I'm sure he drives some fancy monstrosity with customized number plates."

"I don't know which car he has right now," Sarah said. "Some BMW, I think..."

"Figures," Joe let out a humorless laugh. "No cars like that here!" He paused for a moment. "But I'm pretty sure she's home. Walked around to the back. The bedroom curtains are still closed." He paused again. Let that sink in. "I have a really bad feeling here, Sarah, okay? And unless you can tell me that I'm totally overreacting, I need to get in there."

Nudging her car door shut with her elbow, Sarah realized that, as much as she wanted to, she wasn't sure he was overreacting. She was actually getting really worried herself.

"Just wait and I'll come over there, okay?" she said tensely. "Then we can both..."

"Sarah! No!" he cut her off. "I need to do this, and I need to do it alone. So, does she have a hidden key? And where is it?"

"Yeah, but –" Sarah started.

"Sarah, I'm serious!" he interrupted her again "Either you tell me where that key is, or I'm just going to kick the door in – or at least the glass part of it."

"Okay," Sarah sighed. "Yeah, there is a key... It's under the deck somewhere in the back – at least that's where I saw her get it from the last time she locked herself out. It's on a nail or something. She could hardly find it herself last time..."

"Don't worry, I'll find it," Joe assured her darkly.

"Let me know as soon as you know something, okay," Sarah urged. "Jack and I can really come over."

"Yeah, I'll let you know..." He hung up.

He rang the bell one more time and then went around the side of the house, squeezing through the hedge again to get to D's backyard.

A few seconds later he was ducking under her deck, scanning the undersides of the wooden planks. Eventually he spotted the key in the very back, where it was hanging on a nail. He crawled under there and retrieved it, hitting his head a few times as he was backing out again.

His hand tightly wrapped around the key, he straightened up and shot another worried glance up to the bedroom window. Then he headed back around the house to the front door.

He rang the doorbell one more time.

When there still wasn't any reaction, he slid the key into the lock. His heart was beating up to his throat as he turned it. He could only hope that this wasn't the worst idea he had ever had. But since he didn't have a better one...

He opened the door.

The place seemed dead quiet.

Holding his breath, he stepped inside and closed the door behind himself.

In the living room he spotted two big paper bags beside the coffee table. One had toppled over, with some stuff hanging out or having fallen out altogether. There was a sleeve of a sweater, a pair of black pants, a blue tie and something that almost looked like a silk scarf. A flask of aftershave was lying on the floor beside the bag, along with a fancy alarm clock. Joe ground his teeth. Obviously this was Pete's stuff, and it was still here.

He was about to head straight for the closed bedroom door and demand an explanation, when something on the bar counter caught his eye – and made his stomach drop. There was a package of pills and a half-empty glass of water...

His throat suddenly really tight, he took the few steps over and snatched the package from the counter. His hand slightly trembling, he looked at it. Then, briefly closing his eyes, he exhaled. Just melatonin. Thank God!

There were eight pills missing. Even if she had taken all of them last night, it wouldn't kill her. It would definitely be more than the recommended dose for a restful sleep, but it wouldn't do any real harm.

Setting the package back on the counter, he noticed the flowers in the vase next to the sink. His expression darkened – and darkened another shade, once he spotted the box of marzipan pralines beside the vase. He had almost forgotten that she loved marzipan. That's a thing thoughtful fucking Pete would never forget, of course. And how nice of him to bring flowers as well...

Growling, Joe stepped around the bar counter. He gave the flowers a brief, narrow-eyed look before taking one of the buds between his thumb and index finger and severing it from the stem with a swift snip of his fingernails. Contently he watched it drop into the sink with a plop. Seeing this was incredibly satisfying. A little distraction before dealing with the dark drama again...

Drawing in a deep breath now, he turned around and walked over to the closed bedroom door. He couldn't imagine that this would end well, but there was no way around it anyway.

He put his ear against the door. Everything seemed dead quiet. He straightened up and tensely blew out some air. If she was seriously still sleeping in there after he had rung the doorbell for ten minutes straight, it was definitely time to pull her out of her dreams...

He knocked on the door.

There was no answer. Of course.

He knocked again. Harder this time.

Then, without waiting any longer, he just opened the door and walked inside.

# While normal people enjoy the sunshine...

(Saturday, August 31st)

In her bed D was suddenly wide awake – despite the two melatonin pills she had taken in the early morning when she had woken up and felt unable to face reality.

She must have nodded off again after the annoying doorbell had stopped ringing. Had that been hours ago? Or maybe just minutes? She had been so relieved that Pete had obviously given up and left. She had even had some sweet, carefree dream of eating ice cream with Robert in Stockholm.

With the knocking on the bedroom door a moment ago, her heart had literally dropped.

Obviously Pete had not given up at all!

He was actually inside!

She had never expected him to go that far – to just take the spare key and break in. This was absolutely, freakily crossing the line! But after last night she should know that he didn't give a damn about lines and rules anymore.

~~~

"Danny? It's me..."

His own voice sounding strange, even to himself, Joe stepped into the dark room.

There was just eerie silence.

Swallowing hard, he just stood there for a moment, waiting for his heartbeat to slow down a bit and for his eyes to adjust to the near darkness in here. It took a few seconds, but then he thought he could actually make out the outline of her body under the comforter there on the bed.

~~~

Totally dumbstruck, D lay in her bed.

When the door had opened, she had been ready to yell at Pete to get the hell out. Tell him that she'd call the police. But any sound had gotten stuck in her throat the moment it had dawned on her that this was not Pete.

Along with the calm, familiar voice, the faint scent of Joe's shower gel mixed with his aftershave had swept over to her and made a giant lump rise in her throat.

Joe...

~~~

At the foot of her bed, Joe was trying to assess the situation.

It seemed like the person under that comforter had just slightly moved an arm up to where the face must be. So, obviously, she was still alive and – unexpectedly – awake enough to move her limbs.

He wasn't sure at all how to proceed here. And he had no idea what to expect. He was kind of expecting the worst, however.

"How did you get in?" A shockingly hollow voice from under that arm.

"How did I get in?" Repeating the question seemed like a good way to gain some time and get over how her tone freaked him out.

"Guess I found your spare-key and broke in..." He managed to make it sound provocatively self-evident when, at the same time, he was seriously struggling not to lose his bearings. The smell in here reminded him so much of waking up next to her yesterday morning and that hurt like hell...

Well-aware that he needed to keep the memory of yesterday morning at arm's length, he walked around the bed over to the window.

He pulled one of the curtains aside and cracked the window open.

As soon as the sunlight hit the room – and the bed for that matter – D stirred under the covers and turned away from the light – and from him.

Perched against the windowsill, Joe watched her drape that arm over her face again.

Last time he'd been to this room he'd helped her stuff garbage bags with clothes. He surely hadn't anticipated returning here to a scene like this.

"Danny, what's going on?" He was trying hard for a calm tone.

No answer. No movement either.

"Danny!" he pressed.

"You don't want to know..." Her voice was hardly loud enough to hear and there was an extremely devastated edge to it.

Joe swallowed. Maybe he really didn't want to know. He was actually terrified of what she might tell him if he insisted on answers.

But he needed those answers, right?

After his chat with Sarah, his vivid imagination had gone through the roof, picturing all kinds of possible scenarios – one more disturbing than the other. He needed answers.

"Actually I do want to know," he said. "That's why I broke in, and that's why I'm here."

While there was no immediate reaction from the bed, the yapping of a dog became audible from outside the window. He glanced over his shoulder and saw D's neighbor with the Yorkshire terrier out in the backyard. The woman was cutting some herbs, and the dog was bouncing around her. Thank God they hadn't been out there earlier when he had been looking for the key.

He shifted his attention back to the bed.

"Are you actually going to say anything?" he inquired, still somehow managing to sound a lot calmer than he felt. "It would be kind of helpful to just roughly know what happened between yesterday morning, when everything seemed just fine – or actually more than fine as far as I'm concerned – and last night. Seems like you refuse to communicate with me since then." The last part had come out with a sarcastic edge.

Still, there was no response.

"Danny!?!" Slowly but surely, he was starting to lose his composure.

Suddenly there was a gasp.

"It's not you..." Her voice was seriously choked-up.

Briefly closing his eyes, Joe bit down on his lower lip.

"Great. Not me, huh?" A slightly mocking tone had crept into his voice. "Perfect! I was pretty sure it couldn't be me, though, because I don't remember doing anything."

When – again – there was no immediate reaction from her, he huffed out an irritated breath and threw his arms up, knocking over a flower pot in the process. He caught it just in time before it could take the dive down. Some soil had already fallen out and on the carpet.

He straightened out the pot on the windowsill and glanced at the spilled soil. Then he shrugged. With Pete's stuff spread all over the floor in the living room, flowers and marzipan pralines in the kitchen and a girl in a very disconcerting condition in the bed right in front of him, he might as well make his own contribution and spill some soil in her bedroom! It actually was sickeningly satisfying.

"Okay," he growled. "Why didn't you call me last night like you said you would? Can you tell me that?" He paused for a moment and then continued. "Or can you tell me why you're playing dead here in a dark room while normal people get back from lunch and enjoy the sunshine outside?" He tapped his fingers on the windowsill. "And explain to me why the hell Pete's stuff is still here?"

Angrily staring at the bed, he bent his thumbs against the edge of the windowsill until it hurt and hoped that this little exercise of venting his frustration would help keep him from yelling. Because right now he really felt like yelling. And like throwing stuff – such as that flower pot...

As some more, seemingly endless, seconds passed the dog outside barking again, he started to seriously consider grabbing the flower pot, dropping it from high up and then storming out, slamming some doors shut behind him. It was either that or grabbing and shaking the girl on the bed until she finally opened her mouth.

It was then, while the dog was still yapping, that he suddenly noticed that the comforter-covered body there on the bed was trembling. And there was a muffled sob.

With silence from outside now he was relatively sure he wasn't mistaken.

"Just leave..." Stubborn. Grave. Devastated. Before the comforter was pulled up higher and he could hear faint sniffling.

Dropping his gaze to the spilled soil on the carpet again, his chest tight, he swallowed. Over the past few years he had gotten extremely good at not letting Liz's theatrical bawling get to him. There had been times when he had wondered (and worried) that he might be getting insensitive and immune towards other people's feelings and crying in general.

What he was experiencing right now proved that he wasn't immune. Far from it! And this was only the hiding-under-the-covers-not-wanting-to-be-caught-crying version of a crying girl!

The anger was suddenly gone. In fact, his first impulse at seeing her come apart was to crawl onto that bed, wrap his arms around her and try to make her stop crying. He kept himself from doing that, though. Because there was no way she would allow it. Knowing her, she was probably cursing herself for having this meltdown while he was still around.

"Hey..." he said, his tone a little softer now. "What happened?"

There was a helpless gasping sob. Sniffling. Then she cleared her throat, always keeping her face under that arm.

"I really wanted him to just pick up his stuff..." she was struggling to get the words out. "And I was going to call you afterwards, so we could..." Her voice failed her and she moved the arm, clutching her hand to her face now. There was a frantic, hiccupping sob.

Joe tried to keep himself from grabbing the curtain beside him and yanking it off in frustration. He wanted to wring Pete's neck. And he could kick himself for not having foreseen the looming nightmare. He probably could have. There had been signs. Such as the comment she had made about applying for the job in London just to get away from Pete... Or her answer – two weeks ago – when he had asked her if there was anyone new, and she had said that she needed time to breathe. If he had only known how dead-serious that had been.

He pushed himself away from the windowsill and walked around the bed. There he leaned against the wall beside the bedroom door and looked down at her – or the little he could see of her.

She wasn't crying right now. It actually seemed as if she were holding her breath.

He inhaled deeply.

"Danny –" he started, not even sure what to say.

"Just leave," she pleaded in a choked-up voice. "Go and enjoy the sunshine! Like normal people..."

Scoffing, he pushed himself away from the wall.

"This is not one of the just-tell-me-if-you-want-me-to-leave situations, okay?" He had stepped closer to the bed. "And it's also not a situation where you get to tell me to back off either! I'm not leaving until I get some answers here."

She released a shaky breath into her comforter. She was clearly trembling.

"I want to know what happened with Pete!" Joe pressed. "And look at me, for Christ's sake? This is just –"

He fell silent when she abruptly lifted her hand and he saw her puffy, tear-filled eyes, the red nose and a totally pale face.

He swallowed hard.

She was giving him this stubborn look that was totally contradicted by the trembling lips that clearly indicated that she was just barely holding it together.

"Looking at you," she whispered, a tear running down her cheek. "Happy now?"

Dropping his gaze, Joe shook his head.

"And as for Pete," she said, her voice shaky, but at the same time cutting. "I almost went too far with him..."

His eyes shot up again.

She was staring at the big, blue painting on the wall behind him, blinking frantically and trying to choke down tears.

"How sick is that?" she said in a somewhat empty voice. Then she buried her face in the pillow, pulled her arm over her face again and cried.

Despite all the scenarios he had pictured on his way over, the announcement still came as a shock – like a hard kick to the stomach or a slap with the frying pan upside the head.

As the seconds passed, though, and with her slightly shaking with suppressed sobs, he came to realize that he should probably be relieved. He had pictured the worst, and it had obviously not quite come to that. Thank God!

He drew in a few deep breaths – trying to clear his head and push emotions aside as best he could. He repeated to himself what Sarah had told him. When it comes to D, you owe her...

He sat down on the edge of the bed.

The moment he touched her, she jerked away, moaning something incomprehensible.

Trying not to let this discourage him, he put his hand back on her shoulder. Lightly.

"Hey..." He gave her a gentle squeeze before he moved his hand down her arm.

She had tensed up again, but she didn't pull away this time.

He started slowly stroking her upper arm, still expecting another shift away from him or a defensive flap of her arm, but surprisingly there was no such thing. So he just continued slowly running his hand up and down her arm, from her elbow to her shoulder and back. He could clearly feel her tremble.

"I'm a hopeless case!" she suddenly said, hardly loud enough to hear.

"What do you mean?" Even though he had a pretty good idea what she was getting at, he would rather be sure.

"Do you have something wrong with your ears?" she winced without looking at him. "I like... walk out of your house, head over here to give Pete his stuff and then..." The rest was lost in gasping sobs again, and she slammed a fist into her pillow. "That's just sick!"

Momentarily in danger of losing his balance, Joe took his hand off her and tensely ran it over his face. He couldn't let this get to him. Not right now. He turned to face the big blue painting and tried to keep himself from getting sucked into really thinking about what she was telling him. If he let the jealousy take over here, that would be it.

"Yeah, I heard you," he finally said flatly. "And I'm just glad you said almost..."

From behind him, he heard her cough in disbelief. She probably still remembered his getting much more upset and territorial about much less.

Still facing the painting, he shot her a quick look over his shoulder. "I really wish you'd told me how big of a problem Pete really is for you," he said.

"Oh, what problem?" she mocked, her voice a bit shrill now. "That he's driving me absolutely insane?" She noisily cleared her throat. "Really, what problem would I have?" Her tone was dripping with sarcasm now. "That he's determined to love me to death? That he'll never give up on me? Oh, he won't let me throw away the perfect thing he thinks we were having, even if I somehow don't seem to appreciate it!"

She let out a bitter little laugh. "I simply don't know what I'm doing, you know...."

She sucked in a sharp breath. "And why should he believe that I'm not happy with him when I can't even properly explain what it is that makes me happy? Maybe I don't even know how to be happy..." She gasped for air before she continued in the same freaked out voice. "There must be something so totally wrong with me, I tell you!"

She broke off, suddenly choked up with tears. "But he still won't give up on me. He just loves me sooo freaking much! Isn't that sweet?" She swallowed. "No problem using the L-word, by the way. Even while I'm mean and cold and heartless!"

"You're neither mean, nor cold, nor heartless!" Joe told her, ignoring the side-kick about a more generous use of the L-word. "And just because he says he loves you doesn't mean you have to love him back."

He turned around to her again. "Personally, I'd actually prefer it if you didn't?" he said, "So if you would count me into that equation..."

Slowly, very slowly he was feeling as if he was getting a grip on this situation. When Sarah had tried to explain the whole Pete-thing to him earlier, he had thought it was ludicrous. Now it was actually starting to make sense in some crazy way. Either Danny had a better way of telling it, or it just helped to hear it twice...

Suddenly she turned to lie on her back. Both her arms on the comforter, she glared up at the ceiling.

"I was so sure yesterday that I'd be immune to it," she said sounding shaky but a little more composed now. "I thought there's nothing he could do or say that would still get to me. I mean – I had just come from you..." Her voice failed again – choked up with tears.

"I'm a hopeless case" she winced with a frustrated shake of her head. "If I couldn't even handle it yesterday..." There was a desperate little sob and she covered her face with her hand again.

"What exactly happened?" Joe asked with forced composure.

First he didn't think she'd answer. But then she dabbed her eyes with the tip of the comforter and looked at him.

"He seemed to be accepting it finally." She turned on her side, so she was facing him. "He actually put on a really good show." She was tracing the stripes on the pillowcase with her fingers. "And I fell for it. Stupid, naïve me!" She slammed her flat hand onto the bed.

"The next thing I know is that he's hugging me – just one last time..." her voice had turned freaked out. "And he's crying. And then he kisses me... Shit! I should have stopped him right away, but somehow...somehow I didn't."

She let out a bitter, little laugh, "Maybe I even kissed him back, I really don't know. It's not like we haven't been together long enough... It all works kind of on autopilot even if it feels all wrong."

Joe ground his teeth. What she was telling him made his blood boil – literally – but he forced himself to think of all the times he had ended up in bed with Liz when it had felt (and been) totally wrong. He should know best what guilt and good manipulation could accomplish. So, who was he to judge!?! Even the autopilot part sounded familiar. Been there, done that...

Suddenly D interrupted his thoughts, her voice an inconsolable whisper. "I really don't know how it even happened, but suddenly he was... like... he had me with the back to the wall and... guess his pants were... down... and he pushed..." Her voice failed again. "It was sooo close!"

Joe dropped his gaze to the floor.

He was so ready for this to be over. He had heard enough.

"Seems like you turned off the autopilot at some point, though," he said, trying for a soft and final tone. He didn't want her to tell him any more...

There was a long moment of silence. Finally Joe glanced up at her again and reached out his hand to touch her shoulder again. She pulled away.

"I don't think you really get it, Joe," she said, giving him a heartbroken look. "Why don't you just leave? Please... This doesn't make any... I know you." Her voice failed her and her gaze shifted away from him. "You don't want to deal with this..."

Joe stared back at her, baffled, and struggling to make sense of this.

"What do I not want to deal with?" he asked slowly. "I mean... yeah, I could kill him, but..."

She shrugged jerkily and looked away.

"Danny if there's anything else, I'd rather hear it now than later."

"Don't make me make you a drawing," she croaked. "I've been as clear as I can be... I really don't want to..." He saw her blink frantically. "Just leave, okay? We both know you can't deal with stuff like this."

Joe swallowed. Yeah, well, there had been a few episodes in the past where he had probably been a bit too jealous... Came back to haunt him now.

He slowly went through all the information he had so far: There'd been a kiss. Or two. Maybe more? Probably some removed clothing. (Made his stomach knot.) Pete's hands all over... (Made him really sick, but he'd have to live with it.)

"How close are we actually talking about?" he finally asked flatly, almost choking on the question.

There was no answer from the bed – only total silence. She was staring at the painting again.

" _Danny?"_

She shook her head, her eyes never meeting his.

Drawing in a quick breath, Joe realized that he needed to ask her, but he wasn't even sure how to.

"Contact?" He could hear his own voice crack as he said this out loud.

There was a hint of a nod.

"Shit!"

He ran his hands through his hair, the message just sinking in.

"Unprotected???"

First there was no reaction. Then there was another brief, hopeless shrug.

Joe exhaled and briefly clenched a hand to a fist.

"Crap!!!" He shook his head. "I don't know about you..." His voice was eerily detached now. "But from the time when I was still reading teen magazines, I seem to remember that this close could well be close enough for an unpleasant surprise in nine months."

"I know that..." It wasn't more than a weak whisper.

There was a moment of tense silence.

Then, his gaze trailing over to the blue painting again, Joe shrugged, huffed out a breath and pushed himself up from the bed.

"Fucking shit..."

On the way out, he slammed his left hand against the doorframe.

# Here's the Deal

(Saturday, August 31st)

Her heart beating wildly, D was lying in her bed and holding her breath. It was only a matter of seconds before the front door would be slammed shut.

She so wished Joe hadn't come by. Maybe there would have been a different way of telling him. But in the end – what difference did it make? The outcome would have been the same.

A minute passed.

Then two.

She never heard the door at all.

Her head was spinning and her stomach almost revolting as she scooted over and slid her legs out of bed.

Rising very slowly now, she realized just how crappy she was feeling. Her whole body was shaky. It was probably the nerves more than anything...

She picked up the bathrobe from the floor and put it on.

Winding that belt into a knot had never been so complicated. As if she didn't even have control over her hands.

Pathetic!

She shuffled by the armoire, making sure not to look sideways into the mirror. She felt like crap, and she was sure she looked like it too. She didn't really need to see it! And it wasn't like it really mattered at this point.

She reached the bedroom door that Joe had left open.

Her hand on the doorframe she took a few deep breaths. She really needed to pull herself together.

With wobbly knees she stepped out into the living room.

Joe was sitting on the sofa, his feet on the coffee table. He was sweeping his thumb over the display of his phone while chewing on something. Judging from the open praline box next to him, it was a marzipan praline.

He didn't notice her until she stepped up to the sofa. That's when he glanced up, his expression controlled. With his free hand he took the praline box and held it out to her.

"Here," he said, already dropping his gaze to his phone again, "Have some. They're good."

More out of a reflex D took a praline and pushed it into her mouth. The immediate sweetness had something surprisingly comforting.

Without looking up he nudged his head towards the seat beside him and sat the praline box on the coffee table.

"Sit down for a sec." In contrast to the outburst a few minutes earlier there was no emotion whatsoever in his tone right now.

D hesitantly lowered herself to the sofa, leaving about half a seat between herself and him.

"I've just checked something," he told her matter-of-factly, "And I've got a deal for you. You can take it or leave it. But if you don't take it, I'm out of here, and I definitely won't want to stay friends with you."

Her eyes on her hands that she was kneading in her lap, D swallowed.

She felt him turn to her and give her a quick look from the side. It made her stomach knot. Right here and now she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to look him in the eyes again.

He exhaled audibly, looked away again and simultaneously draped his arm over the back of the sofa.

It made her flinch even though she was sitting so far to the front of her seat that there was absolutely no physical contact. She could clearly sense that arm behind her, though. It affected her in some crazy, magnetic kind of way and made her wish she could just sit back and lean her head against that arm.

"It's easy," Joe said while tapping his phone against his knee. "I'll make you breakfast, you have a shower and get dressed – and whatever else you need to do to look less dead – and then I'll drive you to the pharmacy on Summer Street. It's the only pharmacy that's still open Saturday afternoon, and they're only open until three-thirty. I just checked. I'll take you there and you go in and get the morning-after pill. Contrary to what the teen magazines made us believe, there isn't any real danger unless Pete jerked off fifteen minutes before, but..." He interrupted himself and cleared his throat. "Anyway, just to be on the safe side, we go there, you take that stuff and that's it. You can take it up to 72 hours afterwards."

Feeling a giant lump in her throat, D quickly leaned forward and, amid frantic swallowing and blinking to stop herself from coming apart, started aligning the three remote controls on the coffee table.

Joe watched her closely. Saw her fight tears, swallow hard and shift remote controls with unsteady hands.

"I don't need you to drive me around," she finally croaked, her gaze fixed on the remote controls. Suddenly she grabbed one and slammed it into the seat cushion beside her.

Joe resisted the urge to touch her. "You're not driving as long as you're so out of it!" he told her. "And since that pharmacy closes in an hour, there's no time to wait until you've gotten your act together. I'm driving. That's part of the deal. Take it or leave it."

She sat frozen; desperately trying to hold it together.

"Come on," Joe said and shifted his leg. "I think it's a good deal. Just take it!"

When his knee nudged hers, D felt another bout of tears, and there was a sob escaping her before she could even clutch a hand to her mouth.

"Hey" Joe said softly and gave her back a light rub. "Why don't you go and have a shower."

~~~

Once the bathroom door had closed behind her, Joe leaned forward and buried his face in his hands. If someone had told him this morning what this day would bring, he may not have wanted to get up.

From the bathroom he could hear the toilet flush, then D blowing her nose noisily, finally the shower starting to run.

He pushed himself up from the sofa and headed over to the kitchen. He'd better get started on his part of the deal: making breakfast.

He had just taken out some bread and was looking for a pan to scramble an egg, when his phone beeped with a message coming in. From Sarah:

I'm worried. Jack's worried. Everything okay?

He typed back:

Under control.

Not even twenty seconds passed, then Sarah wrote:

Let me know if you need me/us. If not, I might stay at Jack's tonight.

Joe responded:

It's fine.

Showered, dressed and her face pale despite an attempt to improve the deadly look with a bit of makeup, D appeared a few minutes later just as Joe was dishing up the egg.

Giving her a cautious look that she avoided by keeping her eyes on the carpet, Joe set the plate on the bar counter between a cup of coffee and a glass of orange juice and made an inviting gesture. Even if she wasn't looking at him, she was likely to see some things from the corner of her eye.

"Thanks," she muttered and shuffled around the bar. Her posture reminded Joe of his very old grandmother.

He turned back to the coffee machine and poured himself a cup. Then he went to sit in the big chair in the living room that had a good view of the kitchen and the bar, where D had sat down on one of the barstools looking gloomily at her plate.

"Come on, eat," he said. "Might make things look a bit less bleak."

He heard her suck in a staggered breath. Then she nodded, took the glass with the orange juice and drank it all at once. Finally she picked up the fork that was lying next to the plate and started eating.

One hand wrapped around the coffee cup that he was balancing on his knee, Joe had fished his phone out of his pocket again. He scrolled around a bit – checking the news and E-mails as if he actually cared. Every once in a while he shot a quick glance over towards the bar counter.

When he saw D put the fork down and realized that, unexpectedly, she had finished all her food, he pocketed his phone and cleared his throat. He still wasn't quite sure how to say what he was going to say.

She looked over – actually meeting his eyes for a change.

He let his gaze trail to the stereo. Not looking at her might make this easier.

"There's something else," he told her.

The announcement was met with tense silence.

He drew in a breath. "The next time Pete comes by," he said as firmly as he could. "I'm gonna be here."

Even without looking at her, he thought he could hear her jaws snap shut and he was almost sure her eyes had just widened or narrowed. (He wasn't quite sure which of the two, but he didn't' feel like checking either.)

"For what?" Her voice was cracking.

He scoffed. "Do I really need to go into detail?"

She stared back at him for a moment, obviously still processing what he had said, maybe already envisioning the scenario.

Then she exhaled and slightly shook her head. "We can't do that..."

Joe let out an angry, little laugh that immediately made her eyes dart back to him. They were definitely narrow now.

Giving her a hard look back for the short moment she actually did look at him, he realized that it was a good thing he had not made this request part of the take-it-or-leave-it deal like he had initially planned. She would have probably rejected the entire deal if he had done that.

"Really. We can't -" It sounded like an apology.

"Yeah, I heard you," Joe interrupted her sharply. "Even though I'd actually think that the only thing you really can't or shouldn't do, is let anything like last night happen again. But that's just me..."

# A Pill and a Kidnapping

(Saturday, August 31st)

Slouched in the passenger seat of the Volvo, D pulled the seat-belt across herself and glared out the side window.

Beside her, Joe was taking his glasses out of the middle console.

She tried not to think. Just keep that lump in her throat under control. Stay halfway composed. Stop twisting the strap of her purse between her fingers so nervously. Keep her hands still, her head up, and get herself to function somehow. At least for the coming half an hour until he'd drop her off at home again.

Desperate for him to start the car, she shot him a quick glance from the side and found him still fiddling with the iPod.

Scrolling and clicking his way through Albums, Artists and Playlists, Joe tried to make up his mind. There was no doubt that they needed music to make this ride bearable, but he also knew that the wrong choice would only make things worse. Picking the right music here was a delicate balancing act.

When he had finally found something that he thought would be okay, he placed the iPod on the middle console, started the car and pulled out into the street.

Beside him, D was incredibly relieved when an upbeat, rhythmical song she had never heard before came on. Thank God for that! This would cover up at least a bit of the tension here.

After a few kilometers, Joe stopped at a gas station to fill up the tank. He went inside to pay and returned with a small bottle of water.

D could feel his eyes on her as he dropped back into the driver's seat and placed the bottle behind her seat. She kept her gaze fixed on something outside the window, struggling to keep herself from swallowing or blinking while he was looking. It would just make it more obvious what a total mess she was. Not that he hadn't seen enough of it already, but still... It made her sick to imagine what was going on in his head right now – what he thought when he looked at her.

When he started the car again and the music came back on – with another cheerful tune by what seemed to be the same band as before – she released a slow breath and tried to loosen up a little.

But then she couldn't. They were driving through unexpectedly heavy weekend-traffic, and her mind started to suddenly circle uncontrollably around all the should-haves of last night. When Pete had suggested dinner, she should have said no. And even if she hadn't, she should have never let him come back inside with her. And even if she had let him come in and look at the bamboo plant, she should have just walked outside to the car with him, taken his bags with her and said goodbye in the bright light of the streetlamp in good view of all the neighbors' windows. She had misjudged and mishandled this on so many levels!

It would have to be seen when she'd actually be able to look in the mirror again and not see a pathetic, stupid loser.

The pharmacy was located in a part of town where people came on Saturdays to go shopping, to meet friends and to have coffee or/and good ethnic food. With the weather being nice today, there were many people around – and also lots of cars.

After one look at the situation, Joe decided that trying to find parking here was useless. He therefore turned on his hazard lights and just double-parked right across from the pharmacy.

Of course that didn't go over too well with the person in the car right behind him. There was some pissed-off horn-honking and gesturing, but Joe just shrugged.

"I'll try to stay parked here," he told D, his eyes on the pedestrians that were hurrying across the street at the crosswalk ahead. "If the police shows up, I'll drive around the block once or twice and then come back here and pick you up, alright?" He shot her a quick glance.

"Okay," she nodded, unable to look at him. Then she opened the door and slipped out of the car.

Joe watched her walk up to the crosswalk and cross the street together with about twelve other people, all of whom looked a whole lot happier than she. Somehow she moved as if some evil vampire had sucked all the energy out of her.

Gnawing on his lower lip, Joe clenched his hands around the steering wheel and imagined different ways of slowly killing Pete. He envisioned scenes with a lot of blood and Pete begging for mercy. It was kind of relaxing to picture this. And he needed relaxation badly... He actually felt pretty drained.

Shooting a quick look into his side and rearview mirrors, making sure there was no sign of the police, Joe wondered what to do once she returned. He hadn't really thought this through beyond getting her to the pharmacy and making sure she took that pill. He had no idea how to proceed after that. Part of him wanted to just keep the music on something meaninglessly chipper, take her home and leave. Give them both some time to digest this. If it could actually be digested.

Another part of him was very skeptical that brooding over this would result in anything but a deepening of the divide; make it impossible to ever get back to where they'd been yesterday morning.

He was pulled out of his considerations by the passenger door flying open and D dropping into her seat, a small paper bag in hand. Obviously she had just run across the street instead of using the crosswalk with the traffic light.

He shot her a look.

Glaring at the bag on her lap, she fastened her seat belt. Then she started to nervously roll the top of the bag between her fingers.

Joe reached behind her seat and grabbed the water bottle. "Here..." He held it out to her. "Just get it over with..."

She didn't look at him, when she took the bottle. "Thanks." She still sounded seriously choked up.

Joe turned off the hazard lights and started the car. From the corner of his eye he registered how she took a small package out of the bag, fiddled it open and pulled out a blister-pack and the leaflet that she immediately began to unfold.

"No serious side-effects to speak of," he told her in a by-the-way manner as he steered the car down Summer Street. "I googled it..."

Of course he was omitting the fact that there was the realistic possibility of nausea and dizziness. In his view those were the self-fulfilling-prophecy kinds of side-effects which would unavoidably occur as soon as the patient heard or read about them. His patient here was therefore going to be kept in the dark...

Beside him, D had dropped the leaflet into her lap (unread) and picked up the small blister-pack. She popped out the single pill, put it into her mouth and washed it down with some water from the bottle. Then she screwed the cap back on, crumbled up the leaflet and shoved it, the blister pack and the paper box back into the bag. Finally she placed the bag at her feet as if to get it out of sight.

A few seconds passed with her sitting totally still in her seat, her eyes gazing out the front window while Joe pretended to be totally preoccupied with driving.

"Did you want any water?" she asked after a while.

He shook his head. "No, that's alright." He didn't take his eyes off the road.

She nodded and held the bottle in her lap, her hands wrapped around it as if it was a warm cup of tea on a freezing winter day.

A new song had just started. This album had definitely been a good choice as – so far – there had only been fast-paced, happy songs.

"What's the music?" D asked, managing a halfway steady tone.

"They're called the Henry girls," he said with a quick glance over at her. "I saw them in concert in Amsterdam a year ago. Three sisters. Irish band."

She slowly nodded. "Sounds nice..."

"Mhmm."

They approached the next big intersection, and the traffic light turned red right in front of them.

It turned out to be a very long red light...

To D it felt like the longest red light in her entire life. And to make matters worse, the music had just changed to a very slow love song. Staring at the light, she was willing it to turn green very quickly. Because sitting here with him, at this red light, while a soft, melancholic song filled the air, made it hard to breathe.

Suddenly there was a loud crackling noise that almost made her jump. When Joe's eyes darted over to her, and then to the bottle in her lap, she realized that, being tense as she was, she must have tightened the grip on the bottle to the point where the plastic had dented noisily.

"Sorry..." She eased her hold on the bottle, causing it to make another popping noise.

"Danny, cheer up," she heard him say, his tone perfectly calm.

It made her hastily turn to look out the side window, frantically trying to suppress the tears that were already clogging her throat again.

"Hey..." He had reached over and was giving her knee a gentle pat, then the light turned green and he needed his hand to shift gears.

They continued their ride, with Joe tapping his fingers on the steering wheel with the music and D trying to figure out how she'd manage a halfway graceful exit from this car with composed words of thanks and goodbye once they reached her place.

Suddenly he stopped tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, put on the blinker, weaved out of the rolling main street traffic into a turning lane and then pulled into the deserted parking lot of a law firm.

He parked the car at a big sign that said, 'Reserved for Mr. Hayes, LLM' and turned off the engine.

D felt her stomach drop and her throat go dry as he stopped the music.

From the corner of her eye she could see his hands trace the steering wheel and his head turn to her.

"You've got to stop brooding over this," he told her sternly.

She huffed out a sarcastic breath and helplessly shook her head.

What followed was a few tense and quiet seconds with her trying hard not to make the bottle crackle again.

"Did you have any other plans for this afternoon besides staying in bed and playing dead?" Joe finally asked and turned to her again.

She shook her head, her eyes on the cap of her bottle.

"Good," he said. "Then I'm just going to kidnap you."

Her eyes flickered over to him. Baffled.

"Let's go up there..." he said with a nod towards the mountain up ahead.

# A Cable Car Ride

(Saturday, August 31st)

Twenty minutes after they had left the reserved parking spot of Mr. Hayes, LLM, Joe opened the trunk of the Volvo and took out his windbreaker and a navy blue fleece jacket that he always kept in the car.

Slamming the trunk shut again, he shot a tense glance across the parking lot towards the cable car station. The big gondola was just leaving – hovering out of the building, high above ground; its giant arm clasping the thick cable that was pulling it up towards the top of the mountain. There were several people inside, all of them gazing out of the giant windows. Some kids were pressing their noses against the glass, obviously attempting to get the best glance almost straight down.

Shuddering slightly, Joe looked away.

Despite the fact that this had been his idea, he wasn't looking forward to the cable car ride at all. It was just a necessary evil that would get them up to an altitude from where, hopefully, some things would appear a little less dramatic than they did from down here.

He absolutely dreaded the ride itself, though. He was afraid of heights – always had been, probably always would be. As a kid he had put up a big fight – kicking and screaming – each time his parents had as much as gotten close to one of these metal cages. He had been horrified.

By now he knew how to control himself and he had figured out that, if he just stood in the very center of the cabin and focused on looking straight ahead, he could pretend that he was on solid ground and get through the ride okay.

D pushed the car door shut and followed his gaze to the gondola above them. She wasn't sure how she felt about this so-called kidnapping. Maybe it was worth a try, though.

"Here." Stepping up to her, Joe handed her the fleece jacket. "You might need it up there."

"Thanks." She took the jacket and looked down on herself. She was definitely not dressed for a mountain expedition. Jeans, tank top and sandals...

"Okay, let's go," Joe said. "I'll pay."

She was about to protest, but when she suddenly felt his hand lightly against her lower back, she didn't. She simply wouldn't have gotten he words out.

They got their tickets and then climbed up some stairs inside the building, passed through an automatic turnstile and stepped onto a landing.

It was two hours before closing time, so there were only a handful of other people still waiting for the ride up: a young couple with big backpacks and all kinds of mountain gear; a guy with a giant bag that probably held his parachute for paragliding back down into the valley, and two elderly ladies who were talking to each other in a foreign, maybe Eastern European, language.

After a few minutes which D and Joe spent standing next to each other in total silence, there was a serious rumbling accompanied by a slight vibration of the floor, and the gondola arrived, crammed full with people. It slid into position right in front of the landing and the big door on the opposite side opened to let out all the passengers.

Glancing at D, who was watching the people spilling out of the gondola, Joe could feel his anxiety rise. And he started to curse himself for having suggested this. Couldn't he have come up with some excursion that didn't involve floating a hundred meters above ground?

The door on their side slid open with a hiss and the elderly ladies got on first.

Joe stepped into the cabin behind D, but unlike her he didn't right up to the window to look down but headed for the pole in the very center with no view into the abyss.

D had already put her arms on the narrow window ledge when she noticed that she was standing here alone. It only dawned on her now, what she should have remembered...

Joe saw her turn around and give him an uncomfortable look.

He shrugged and pulled his mouth into a crooked smile – a smile that immediately vanished from his face the moment the cabin started moving. It was this freaky motion – almost like when a ship was hit by a big wave – or collided with an iceberg. He absolutely didn't care for this feeling.

Staring out of her window, D felt incredibly stupid. How could she not have thought about the fact that there was one thing he really wasn't dealing well with, and that was heights. She had been so preoccupied with her own problems that she had not thought about it at all. Plus, this trip had been his idea...

She shot him another undecided look, considering if she should just join him at his pole. That's when he actually let go of it and came towards her in swaying steps. He stopped behind her and grabbed hold of one of the holding straps that were dangling from the ceiling. With his other hand he grabbed hold of the window ledge beside her elbow.

"You still afraid of heights?" she asked without turning around.

"Don't think that ever goes away."

"Was your idea to do this, though." She shot him a quick look over her shoulder.

"I'm not complaining," he shrugged. "The takeoff's just not my favorite part."

Slowly the cable car travelled up. Above tree tops and steep hillsides that were ski slopes in the winter.

D was staring out of her window, trying to push away the dark thoughts of what had happened and how it might have wrecked it all.

"You need to stop brooding over it," she suddenly heard Joe say behind her. His arm that was holding on to the holding strap had briefly brushed up against her shoulder.

She shrugged awkwardly.

"I'm serious." He leaned in, his arm resting against her shoulder a little longer this time. "You need to stop brooding over it, and you need to let it go!"

"Like you can let it go..." she muttered with an air of devastation.

"Me?" He sounded baffled. "I can let it go..."

"Yeah right. And that's exactly why you need to keep a close eye on me from now on, don't you?"

Sucking in a sharp breath, Joe straightened up and slightly pulled away from her. "If this is about what I said about... about wanting to be there the next time Pete comes to get his crap..." He paused for a moment. "That's not how I meant it."

She scoffed.

"This isn't at all about me keeping an eye on you," he claimed – well aware that he wasn't being totally honest. "But you need to make sure someone's there next time he drops by. Doesn't have to be me." He paused and briefly considered this. "In fact, it'd probably be better if it wasn't me."

In a somewhat helpless gesture and because she was a total loss of words right now, D raised a hand and scratched her left eyebrow.

"Hey..." He was leaning closer again. "I've screwed up a few times myself, okay? You of all people should know that."

D swallowed hard, her vision suddenly turning cloudy with tears. Desperate to cover this up, she shrugged jerkily and tried to keep her gaze firmly at the view outside the window. Far below them, the cable car station was getting smaller and smaller and she could hardly make out the sand-colored Volvo in the emptying parking lot anymore.

"Now listen," Joe said calmly, his elbow lightly resting against her shoulder again. "From what I've heard, it doesn't sound like you were an especially enthusiastic participant in what happened, so... unless, you wanna change your story..."

D shook her head, her throat so tight now that she knew she wouldn't get a word out even if she tried.

Suddenly there was a jolt. And the cabin rocked like a boat on rough seas as the gondola's arm slid over the first tower.

The touch against her shoulder was suddenly gone and she saw his hand on the window ledge grip so tight that the knuckles turned white.

"Are you okay?" She turned and gave him a concerned look over her shoulder.

Tensely staring at something on the floor, he nodded. "That's not my favorite part either."

Before she could stop herself D had slid her hand over, closer to his, extented her small finger and gently pushed it against the side of his thumb. "Almost there."

"Good." He released a tense breath. And then he lifted his thumb a little and gently pushed it against her finger.

# World from Above

(Saturday, August 31st)

"Let's go down this way!" Joe pointed towards a gravel road that led from the cable car station and the small historic hotel that was adjoined to it, down towards the forest.

"Okay," D nodded, a weird feeling in her stomach. This trail would eventually take them right to the place where, years ago, they had built the infamous snowman.

Walking downhill – next to each other, but with a generous safety buffer between them – they passed a small farm that offered homemade food and fresh dairy products. Some people were still enjoying the afternoon sun in the beer garden.

As they kept walking by the cows that were grazing behind the farm, they passed a turn-off – to a steep, narrow trail that, according to a sign, lead up to a viewpoint.

"Guess we better save the mountain climbing for some other time," Joe said. "You're just not wearing the right kind of shoes..." It was a joke, given his fear of heights.

D coughed. "Oh, please don't worry about me. If you really, really feel the need to climb up there, just say so and I'm sure I can make it somehow..."

"With sandals?" he pushed.

She shrugged. "Barefoot, if necessary. May not be the smartest thing, but as long as it keeps you from acting as if I'm a princess... Come on, let's do it..." She turned to head up that trail.

"No, no, hold on!" Chuckling, Joe grabbed her hand to hold her back. "I don't really need to do that! I actually had enough freaky views from high above already."

"Are you sure about that?" D asked, trying for a teasing tone, when his hand around hers, and that look he gave her, made her a bit dizzy.

"Yeah. I'm very sure," Joe confirmed. "Because, honestly, the problem really isn't that you're too much of a princess, but that I'm freaked out by heights. We'll have a good enough view from where we're going..." He released her hand and motioned towards the forest up ahead.

There were several people coming towards them, obviously on their way back to the cable car for the ride down.

After a five-minute walk through the forest, the safety buffer reestablished and slightly increased, the road lead them out into the open again, onto a seemingly endless grassy field – with an amazing view towards the valley and the mountains around them.

Joe walked into the field a little ways, then stopped, spread his windbreaker out on the ground and sat down on it, leaving enough space beside him.

Looking down at him, D hesitated.

"Come on, sit down," he said with a glance up at her.

Her heart beating harder and her eyes fixed on the grass, she sat down, pulled up her legs and wrapped her arms around them.

Joe was gazing into the valley, seemingly lost in thought.

"I love that view," he said and leaned back on his outstretched arms.

"Mhmm, me too."

"All the crap seems far enough away from up here," he contemplated.

She swallowed. Something told her that the crap he was referring to, might not all have to do with her and Pete, but might be including Liz and himself as well.

From the corner of her eye she could see him pull his left arm forward to check his watch. It made her glimpse at her own, and she realized that it was almost 4:30 pm.

They had less than half an hour left before they'd have to head back to the station again.

Her stomach twisted at the thought of returning to the valley.

They would get into his car, they'd both pretend to feel oh-so-much better, he'd drive her home, there'd be an awkward moment outside her flat, and then she'd bravely say goodbye – just because she was too embarrassed or too proud, or simply too stupid to tell him to come in – and stay, for God's sake.

Beside her, Joe shifted and then laid back in the grass, one arm bent under his head.

Keeping her eyes on the church steeple far below, D couldn't help but notice that his not sitting up anymore beside her, made her feel chilly. She picked up the fleece sweater she had lying next to her and pulled it on. It smelled like him...

"We could stay, you know," he suddenly said from behind her.

When she turned to look at him now, not quite getting the message, he was staring straight up at the sky, his free hand combing through the grass. "We could stay up here," he repeated. "Overnight."

D swallowed, her eyes still on his face.

His eyes flickered to her. "We could just stay at the hotel."

Watching her, how she'd blinked a bit more than necessary and then dropped her gaze, without giving a clue what was going on in her head, Joe was literally holding his breath. The idea of staying on the mountain had just popped up. And he had said it out loud without having given himself any time to consider how smart of an idea this really was. He knew exactly what Liz would have told him in a case like this. "Are you crazy? You want me to stay at that place? That's a bit rustic, don't you think? Besides, I didn't bring anything – no curling iron, no make-up... Honey, you really can't expect me to do that." (And it wasn't like Liz's enormous handbag didn't contain the beauty essentials for a week-long expedition.)

D still hadn't said anything, but he suddenly realized that he absolutely wanted, or even needed her to agree to this – stay for the night! He had no clue what would come out of it, but they needed to try it. It seemed like this unique chance to make things right after they'd been messed up so terribly. If he let this chance pass, there might not be another.

"It looks like a nice place" he said trying for a cheery tone to mask how on the edge he really felt. "They have rooms, they have food, and I can live without a toothbrush until tomorrow morning! And since you're not a princess, you can probably too..."

Her eyes had flashed up to his face again for a fraction of a second, but then moved back to the grass.

Starting to feel increasingly frustrated and more and more convinced that she'd reject the idea, he exhaled sharply. "Stupid idea, huh?" There was no point in keeping up the cheerfulness any longer. Letting out a humorless laugh, he pushed himself into a sitting position.

D felt her heart stop at this. She was well aware that should have said something long ago. Anything...

"Guess we should just head back then..." He shifted and was about to get up.

"Joe, wait..." Her hand was on his leg before she even knew what she was doing.

He came to a halt. "For what?"

She was looking back at him tensely. "It's not... it's not a stupid idea..." She awkwardly lifted her hand from his knee again and started twisting her earring. "But... I just... I mean I can't even look myself in the mirror right now..."

Joe let out a little laugh. "Oh my!" he said. "Maybe they have a room without a mirror..." A little more serious he added. "I'd rather not over-analyze why I want to do this. Let's just do it, okay?" He took her hand, put it back on his knee and held it there, his hand lightly on top of hers. Then he tilted his head. "Come on! I guarantee you that however bad you feel right now will get any better if you go home now, crawl back into bed and relive your last encounter with that asshole again."

Releasing a long breath, she shrugged.

Joe nodded contently. "Okay then."

With his free hand he pulled out his phone, tapped and scrolled around a bit until he found the hotel's phone number on the internet and called them, his other hand still on her hand on his leg.

A few seconds passed. While he was waiting for someone to take his call, he shot her a quick look and slowly slid his fingers between hers.

"Oh, hi," he said into the phone. "I was wondering if you've still got a double room for tonight?"

There was a short pause.

"Yeah, I know," he said, his eyes back on their entwined hands. "We're already up here. Just trying to decide if we should take the last ride down or not."

There was another short pause with the person on the other end telling him something. He nodded and simultaneously pulled her hand up to his mouth, threateningly flashing his teeth and greedily eyeing her small finger.

"Oh, you do?" At the same time he tried to keep D from pulling her hand out of the danger zone.

"Great!" he said contently, while shooting D a raised-eyebrow look and pulling her hand closer to his flashed teeth again.

"Yeah, that would be fine. It's just for one night, yeah – Great –What? – Oh, it's Reilley – double-L-E-Y. Yep. Thanks! Bye."

He ended the call and placed the phone beside him on a sleeve of the windbreaker.

"They've still got a room," he said and looked at her hand in his. "So, if we want, we can stay up here." He had raised his second hand and placed it palm to palm with hers, so her hand was now wedged between both of his for a moment. Then he released it.

"They said to just come by anytime..."

"Okay," D nodded, feeling a little overwhelmed by the turn of events. With his releasing her hand, she quickly pulled it back and awkwardly ran it over her arm just to give it some use.

"The rooms have only sinks, though," he said. "Bathrooms and showers are in the hallway. No accommodations for princesses, I'm afraid..."

"That's fine," she said, briefly meeting his eyes.

"Great." He laid back in the grass again, one arm under his head, the other one across his stomach.

Watching him gaze straight up at the sky, D felt an involuntary shiver run through her. She felt so drawn to him that it almost hurt...

After a moment of hesitation, she scooted down a little and lay down beside him.

"Hi..." He nudged his upper arm against hers while his eyes remained fixed to the clouds.

"Hi." She briefly closed her eyes and just gave in to the amazing heatwave the touch was causing.

A few minutes passed in silence with them just lying there, arms touching and both of them just staring at the clouds above.

Then Joe broke the silence. "Have you come up here much?"

"Not really," she said slowly. "Why?" She turned to look at him.

"Well, I thought, since you're living here." His eyes remained fixed at the sky.

"I haven't been up here since you guys built that snowman," she said, watching his profile. At the mention of the snowman he blinked a little more than necessary.

"Yeah, the snowman..." he said. "Still remember that, huh?"

"Mhmm. There was some guy standing behind me during the photo session..."

"Oh really?" He glanced over at her, an amused twinkle in his eyes. "Which guy was that?"

"Oh, just some guy," she shrugged and looked up at the sky again. "Don't remember his name..."

Joe laughed. "Must not have left much of an impression then."

"No, not really."

There was another few seconds of silence.

"You've never come up here with Pete?" Joe asked then, his hand pulling at some grass again.

"No."

Joe waited for more than just this somewhat brisk No, but there wasn't anything. Just silence. That bothered him. Because right now, Pete was back on his mind, and he couldn't stop thinking about him. Pete. Pete. Pete. Pete. It was quite annoying and had the potential to drive him crazy.

Despite the fact that he had claimed earlier that he had no problem letting this go, he had to admit that it wasn't so easy after all. Weirdly enough, the thing he struggled with the most wasn't what had happened with Pete Friday night; what bugged him way more was the fact that he simply couldn't wrap his mind around how she had ever gotten together with Pete in the first place. And then stayed involved with that idiot for – how long had it been? Two years? Almost three? He wasn't really sure.

He turned to face her and propped himself up on his elbow.

"So, how did this whole thing with Pete actually work?" he asked. He had just decided to tackle the annoying issue here and now. The last cable car was leaving this very minute...

"What?" D gave him a perplexed look, obviously stunned by the blunt question.

Joe shrugged. "Well, I'm just kind of wondering. How did that work in general? You and Pete? I mean, I know that you had a weekend thing, but..."

Her eyes trailing off, she gave a brisk little nod. "Yeah. It was a weekend thing. Why?"

"Well, what did you two spend your time with during those weekends?" Joe asked a little impatiently. "I mean during the day." He had a hard time keeping his mind from drifting off into the shadows that he'd rather not think about. Of course there obviously had been nights too – during those weekends. "I'd just like to understand that. The attraction of Peeeete... Because I don't totally get it, to be honest."

He picked up a small rock from the grass and played with it. "I mean – it's not like I really know him that well. I only know him from a course we both took at university five years ago or so. But he seemed like a really annoying, nerdy, tense tight-ass. Wouldn't have imagined you ever ending up with someone like that."

"What is this?" D asked sharply and sat up.

He shrugged. "I guess I'd just like to know."

"Why?" She sounded irritated.

"Did you go camping?" He inquired instead of an answer.

She huffed out a breath, shook her head and slung her arms around her legs. With a dark expressions she glared towards the valley.

"Probably not his kind of thing, huh?" Joe pressed. "Or did you actually use the tent with him?" There was an edge to his tone now. Thinking about the tent they'd picked out together and that he'd given her for her 21st birthday obviously did this to him. They had used it a few times.

"No. No camping," D said stiffly.

"Probably only resides in five-star hotels, huh?" Joe scathed, actually glad that Pete hadn't slept in 'his' tent.

D had clenched her jaws at his latest remark. "No, just four star."

Joe raised his eyebrows in surprise. He hadn't really expected a response to his silly side-kick.

"Where did you go with him?" he asked without the mockery. He just wanted to know. "I mean, I already know Lisbon, but... where else?"

She turned and shot him a hard look over her shoulder.

"Why are you doing this?"

He shrugged. "Guess I'd just like to get a feel for who you spent a few years of your life with..."

"A few weekends of a few years of my life," she corrected.

"Whatever... He's just so not your type," he started again. "I just can't figure out how you ever..."

She interrupted him with a coughed-out, bitter laugh. "Well – and I thought brainless blond sex bombs weren't your type!"

For a moment there, they just glared at each other. Angrily. Until they both realized that they were operating very close to the abyss here.

Finally Joe blew out a tense breath and ran his free hand over his face. "Sorry," he said stiffly with a shake of his head, "I just..."

"Yeah, I know," she interrupted cuttingly. "You just wanted to know..." She paused for a moment and gave him a hard look. "If that's really what keeps you up at night, I should probably tell you, though..." Her tone was acidic now. She had dropped her gaze and was pulling at the grass beside her. "Pete might not seem like my type but, at the time, he had one thing going for him, and that was that he's just the total opposite of you."

Joe was glad she wasn't looking, because he couldn't help swallowing at this. It felt like a slap in the face, and he knew she hadn't just said it to hurt him. She was obviously telling the truth...

"Pete likes reading, going to the theatre, concerts, art exhibits..." She reeled this off while staring towards the valley again. "Nice restaurants, walking –" She threw out her hand, indicating that the list might actually be endless.

Joe suddenly wished she'd stop. He knew he had somehow overstepped a line, and he really didn't want to pursue this any further. But he had set something in motion and she wasn't done yet.

"And just to be fair here," she said sharply, "Pete's not a bad guy, okay? I mean, compared to your choice..." She shot him a quick, dark look over her shoulder. "Just because Pete's interests didn't match mine and..." She paused, looking for the right words. "And just because I didn't think we really fit – doesn't mean he's an idiot, okay? I personally wouldn't spend that kind of money on concerts and stuff, but the ones I went to with him weren't all that bad. And although he's driving me crazy with some of the things he does, that doesn't mean he's a bad guy."

"Yeah, I know," Joe said, trying for a conciliatory tone in the hopes that it would end the topic now. But it didn't.

"Why don't we talk about you, though?" D said. She had turned around and was looking straight at him. "There's probably no end to the list of exciting things you and Liz spent your time with, right? Why don't you tell me about that? Stick to the outdoors stuff, though. The bedroom crap I can easily picture."

Joe drew in a resigned breath and then slowly released it. Fair enough! His own fault for having started this!

"Any hiking, biking, swimming, travelling?" D pressed, her tone laced with fake sweetness. "Come on, tell me!"

He hesitated. Then, his eyes trailing off to the side, he shrugged. "Sure," he said with an air of exasperation. "I'll tell you. Let's see..."

He took a moment as if to gather his thoughts. "We tried a bit of everything, yeah – hiking, biking, swimming, skiing. Of course – first we needed the ideal weather and then she needed the perfect equipment and outfit." A slightly sarcastic edge had crept into his voice. "The equipment part got a little expensive, but since Daddy had lots of money... Anyway, it wasn't a whole lot of fun. She hated it and – well, that didn't make it very enjoyable for me either – so..." He shrugged again and then flopped back on his back, eyes directed straight up.

"So that was that," he said flatly. "We tried some concerts, too. That was okay, even though I kept nodding off and she got really angry. Of course she also dragged me to some of the things at her art gallery." He paused as Bob briefly crossed his mind. "And – did I already mention that we spent a lot of time fighting? You wouldn't believe how time flies when you're having that kind of fun..." He shook his head, a fake smile on his face. "But I was gone a lot too – business trips, late evenings; some of it totally unnecessary for the business. Crucial for my mental sanity, though." He fell silent and glanced at her. "So, that's how it worked. Any other questions?"

D had listened to him, her stomach twisting in the course of his report. She could only hope her expression didn't reflect how sick she was starting to feel at hearing all this. And something told her he was only scratching the surface here.

"No," she said quietly, unable to look at him. "And I would never have asked if you hadn't started it..."

Joe shrugged stubbornly.

A few minutes passed – with D staring towards the valley again and Joe gazing up at the sky, neither of them talking, both of them caught up in their own thoughts.

"Do you wanna go?" D finally asked with an insecure glance back at him.

Nodding, he sat up. "Yeah. Let's go and have something to eat. I'm actually starving..."

# A Night at the Mountain

(Very early Sunday, September 1st)

D woke up sometime during the night. She didn't know what time it was, but it was still dark outside and she desperately needed to go to the bathroom – even if that meant she'd have to leave the room and run across the hallway.

Trying not to wake up Joe, who was lying all the way over on his side of the bed and breathing peacefully, she pulled back the comforter and got up.

Thanks to some moonlight that was coming in between the curtains, the room was not entirely dark.

After a moment of considering if she should slip back into her own clothes over the bra and underwear she was wearing, she just pulled Joe's shirt from the chair beside the bed and put it on. It was big enough to cover what needed to be covered, and she doubted that she would encounter anyone out there anyway.

Barefoot she snuck out of the room into the dimly illuminated hallway, where everything was quiet and deserted.

In the bathroom she stepped up to the window and looked outside. It was such a cool view – the lights down in the valley, the outline of the mountains all around and the stars and the moon up above.

Pulling the shirt tighter around herself, she buried her nose in the collar and drew in a deep breath. It smelled like him...

She closed her eyes and ground her teeth.

Joe and her... She had no idea where they stood anymore.

After the few hours of sleep, everything that had happened yesterday seemed almost unreal now. Only that it wasn't.

In the aftermath of their uncomfortable exchange about life with Pete and Liz, they had walked back to the hotel in silence and far apart. There had suddenly seemed to be an invisible barrier between them that hadn't been there before.

They had checked into the hotel and then gone straight to dinner.

The restaurant had been nice and cozy, with a fire burning in the fireplace, a friendly waitress and some really good local food. The food had definitely improved the atmosphere and helped them find back to a halfway relaxed and friendly conversation, even though the slight, underlying tension that they'd brought with them from outside had never really left them.

Joe had dug out some anecdotes from his childhood and teenage years with Sarah – stories she had never heard before. It had made her laugh. She should probably cross-check those stories with Sarah before believing them, but in any event, they had been something to talk and laugh about.

Obviously determined to steer clear of dangerous and controversial topics altogether, Joe had then asked her how her family was doing.

So she had talked a bit about what had been going on with them over the past eighteen months – with Robert's quitting his job and starting the catering business and with Dad going through chemo therapy. She had left out how tiresome it had often been with Pete – especially his getting upset when she had cut their weekends short every other Sunday to go over to her parents. Sometimes Pete had come with her – supposedly as support, but his being tense and in a pissy mood all the time had only made things harder. Dealing with him on top of everything else had sometimes been more than she had thought she could handle. Looking at Joe now, she couldn't help thinking that she might have had a lot more support from him...

Somehow they had gotten into talking about work next – a harmless topic with a lot of potential. She had happily told him a bit about June and some of the crazy, sometimes annoying things that happened at the office. And Joe had countered with some episodes from his own work – stories that had made her laugh, but that had also reminded her that he wasn't just talking about any job. He was talking about the company he owned together with Liz's brother...

They must have spent almost two hours at the restaurant. Finally he had suggested sharing a dessert and they ordered mousse au chocolate with two spoons.

Despite the light conversation and the laughter, it had been hard to ignore that there was something strangely guarded and held back in the way Joe behaved. It all seemed a bit like an act. He joked and chuckled, but he didn't look at her much, and he never even tried to touch her once.

After dinner they had headed up to the room.

At first there had been a weird, tense moment, but then Joe had sunk into the comfortable chair beside the bed and started analyzing the oil painting of a haystack and cows that was hanging on the wall across the room by using some vocabulary he could have only picked up at Liz's art gallery. It had made them both laugh – but, they might have laughed about anything in that moment, just to overcome the awkwardness of being alone in that room with the big bed and not knowing how to exactly handle the sleeping arrangement.

She had then washed her face and ended up with dark mascara rings around her eyes, which had made him call her a zombie and pretend to be terrified, which had tempted her, in turn, to put on a grim face, raise her hands above her head and head towards him like a zombie in search of a victim. She had stopped half a meter away from him, though, as there had suddenly been a lump in her throat. If she touched him now and his reaction showed that what they had had two nights ago, was all gone...

She had eventually gotten rid of the mascara eye rings by applying some chop stick and rubbing a tissue over it.

Later, they had watched TV for a while. They had both sat on the bed, both fully clothed and both very careful to avoid that even their arms touched.

The movie they had watched had been silly, and they'd both seen it before. Still, they'd pretended to find it really funny – even if the laughter sometimes sounded a bit hollow.

Once the movie had ended, Joe had stretched and yawned and announced that he was tired. He had gotten up, walked around the bed, slipped out of his jeans, unbuttoned his shirt, placed everything on the chair beside the bed and then returned to his side of the bed in his boxer shorts. He had slipped under the covers, grabbed a brochure that was lying on the bedside table and immersed himself in it.

For a moment she had tried to decide how much clothing she wanted to shed herself. Or better: What was appropriate to wear to bed in a situation like this? Tank top, bra and underwear or just bra and underwear? Finally, she had gotten up from the bed, quickly pulled the top over her head, stepped out of her pants and slipped under the comforter. Over on his side of the bed, Joe had yawned again, wished her a good night and turned off his bedside lamp. He had been asleep (or pretended to be asleep) within a few minutes.

She had still lain awake for at least another hour, her head buzzing with everything that happened in the course of this day. The exchange about Liz and Pete had gone through her head again. And it had suddenly hit her – with her stomach knotting – that her claiming Pete was not a bad guy and defending him to Joe the way she had, had been a pretty disastrous thing to do. Sure, the way he had introduced the topic had not really been fair and had rubbed her the wrong way, but still.

Maybe, in the future, she should first take a few breaths and count to ten before saying anything. Because sometimes what came out of her mouth was, even if theoretically correct, still destructive and tactless.

In this particular case, it had changed Joe's mood from still wanting to hold her hand to carefully avoiding getting close to her ever since.

In fact, the current sleeping arrangement and the way they had said goodnight reminded her a lot of the time she had shared a room and a bed with her brother Robert during a trip they had taken. This was Joe on his best brotherly behavior...

Coming back from the bathroom now, D managed to re-enter the room and close the door behind herself almost without making a sound. Once inside, she waited for a moment until her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, then she tiptoed further into the room, took off Joe's shirt and draped it over the chair again.

Then she slipped back into bed.

It didn't seem as if Joe had moved in her absence. He was still lying far over on his side, seeming sound asleep.

Quietly lying there with her back to him, D pulled the comforter around herself more. She was freezing now. It had been cold out there – and walking around barefoot had been idiotic.

Hugging herself under the comforter, she rubbed her feet against each other to warm them up.

"Now you're cold, huh?" With the mattress bouncing a bit, he turned around to her.

"Sorry, I didn't want to wake you up," she told him with a glance over her shoulder.

"I'm not really awake, don't worry," he muttered and scooted closer. "But you should have kept my shirt on."

"Then it would be all wrinkled tomorrow." She tried hard to sound in control when feeling his warmth behind her made her feel lightheaded.

"A wrinkled shirt?" He whispered, feigning shock. "Yeah, that would be a real disaster..." His hand came to rest on her hip. "I could warm you up, though." By now his chest was against her shoulders and his knees were just sliding against the undersides of her legs.

D swallowed. Had she seriously been worried about his brotherly conduct earlier? Well, this didn't sound very brotherly anymore. And it didn't feel like it either. She closed her eyes.

Leaning in a little more, Joe realized that what he was doing here was contrary to every good resolution he had had for tonight – namely that he wouldn't get real close to her in general – and definitely not in bed. The original reason for his wanting to stay up here with her had been to keep an eye on her and avoid an overnight deterioration of a situation that had – at that moment – just seemed to have stabilized a bit. Had it not been for their revealing talk about Pete a little later, who knew, he may have thrown all caution overboard and headed up to the room with her even before dinner. Hearing her defend Pete like that, though – and the reason she had given for getting together with him in the first place – had put things into a drastic perspective and made him realize that he should probably avoid playing any feely-touchy games with her for a while. It had seemed crucial somehow.

So, as they had gotten to the hotel and later to their room – which had been a really awkward moment, the grand plan had been for him to stay on his side of the bed with at least 90 percent of his body for 100 percent of the time. He had been tired enough last night to stick to that rule without any problems. But now, here he was, all of him on her side, and his mind (and not just that...) stirring with some ideas that went far beyond just warming her up for the sake of a comfortable body temperature...

He felt her catch her breath as he let his hand glide across her stomach – first intentionally only touching her lightly, then placing his palm against her lower ribs. There seemed to be a slight shiver as he started to slowly sweep his thumb back and forth there.

Then he gently rubbed his chin against her shoulder.

"Feeling any warmer yet?" he asked saintly and let his hand slide slowly up over her ribs and up further to where it was nicely cupping a bra cup.

She seemed to have stopped breathing there for a moment. An absolute thrill...

Suddenly he felt her icy toes on his feet.

He flinched. "God that's cold!"

"You offered to warm me up," she replied with a dry little chuckle and pressed her frozen toes against his feet some more. "Hopefully that includes the body parts that might be less interesting to you..."

"Why would you think your feet are less interesting to me?"

"Just a feeling."

"Oh, you're so wrong..." He leisurely brushed his thumb over the exposed skin between her bra cups.

She swallowed hard.

"So, tell me..." he whispered, leaning over her shoulder and placing a kiss against the side of her neck. "Why exactly are you wearing this?" He put another kiss on the shoulder strap. "It doesn't really serve any warming function, does it?"

"It's for protection," she told him bravely.

"Oh really?" Laughing, he snuck his thumb underneath the fabric of the cup. "Great protection! He teasingly swept his thumb over the part of her breast he could reach.

She gasped. "Stop it..." Barely suppressing a giggle she got hold of his wrist.

"Oh, I'm so sorry..." he whispered and brushed his thumb up and down again – just for kicks. "You don't really want me to stop, do you?"

"Joe..." If she was trying to make it sound like a warning, her breathlessness contradicted the message.

"Sorry," Joe chuckled, obviously not sorry at all. "This seems like a very uncomfortable piece of clothing to wear in bed." He leaned forward a little, gave her a warm, wet kiss against the side of her neck and one on the indentation just below it and then caught the shoulder strap of her bra between his teeth. Chuckling and intentionally exhaling against her skin, he was hoping for a tickling effect as he started to slowly drag the strap off her shoulder.

"Is this your idea of warming me up?" D complained, trying hard to sound in control. "Taking off the little clothes I'm still wearing?"

"Mhmm," Joe mumbled and released the strap just above her elbow. "Seems contradictory, I know. You'll see that it works, though. Just trust me."

D coughed out a little laugh. "Yeah, right. The bra wasn't just for my protection, by the way..."

"Oh, I can protect myself, thank you." With the bra cups very loose now, he slid his hand over her breast, gently cupping it.

"What were you trying to protect me from anyway?" He leisurely brushed his thumb over her nipple. "This?" Contently he noticed the effect his touch had. Almost made his head spin. Perfect fit. Perfect size. Absolute turn on.

"And since you asked..." He leaned close to her ear again. "I personally think this is an excellent idea. Maybe not very creative, but who cares..." He bit her earlobe and single-handedly unhooked the bra in the back.

It made her release a really shaky breath.

He relocated his hand to her lower ribs again and left it there for a while. Feeling her breathe – her chest slightly rising and falling under his hand – literally sent a wave of warmth through his body.

He had totally abandoned his good resolutions by now. There was no thought left of giving them both time apart to digest things. He actually didn't care anymore what had happened with Pete the previous night or her defending Pete. All he really wanted right now was to sleep with her. Just sleep with her and forget about all the other crap.

Regarding contraception he was confident that yesterday's morning-after pill would cover them just fine. He sure hoped he wouldn't be required to discuss this with her, however, as it would absolutely ruin the moment.

"Come on," he said and tried to pull her arm out of the bra strap, "seems like you're warm enough. No need for that."

She huffed out a dismissive little breath. But then, to his big surprise, she cooperated and dropped that bra on the floor. A step in the right direction as far as he was concerned...

He was about to put his hand somewhere soft and warm, and then go south from there, when she turned over to where she was now facing him. "You're just..." she started with an exasperated sigh.

"What?" he inquired with an expectant look. "Dangerous /horrible /great /weird?"

She nodded, placing a soft hand against his cheek. "Yeah, all of that..." She slid her hand from his face back under his ear, her eyes meshing with his in the semi-dark. Then she propped herself up a bit, leaned in and kissed him. Softly. Warm, moist, parted lips sliding against his. And there was a gentle sweep of her tongue...

Desperate to really feel her, Joe shifted and, both his arms around her, pulled her on top of himself – one of his hands coming to rest against her lower back, the other curling around the nape of her neck.

He carried on with the kiss – and carried it further. Feeling her body against his like this, her forearms resting against both sides of his head, her breasts against his chest and one of her legs just sliding over his lap to where she was straddling him, made him wonder how long he would still be able to control himself. He moved his hips a bit, giving her a well measured hint of the intended route this was supposed to take sooner rather than later. After all, they still had to solve the problem of removing some underwear here.

Suddenly D broke the kiss. Pulling away, she jerkily turned her head to the side. And sneezed. Explosively.

"Sorry!" She cleared her throat. And was immediately shaken by another sneeze. "Must be something in the air." After a little sniffle, she lowered herself against him once more.

Despite the fact that he still felt as if he were on fire, he suddenly wasn't in as much of a hurry anymore. This felt incredible, and he could as well just give them both a moment to catch their breaths.

She had buried her face against his neck, and he slowly ran his hand from her lower back up to her shoulder blades and back down again. Then he craned his neck so he could place a kiss on her shoulder. He felt her kiss the side of his neck in response, one of her hands coming to softly rest against his jaw, her fingertips tugging on his earlobe – it was this soft, teasing touch that triggered an incredibly fluffy, warm feeling.

"Shit, Danny... – I love you."

It had just slipped out.

Nothing he had been planning to tell her.

Nothing he had even consciously acknowledged so far.

Maybe that's why it had come out so easily. He was almost shocked when he heard himself say it. There was the L-word... And he realized with total amazement that it felt unexpectedly liberating to have it out there.

The reaction of the girl in his arms seemed quite a bit off, however. The moment he had said it, she seemed to have frozen against him. Her face still buried somewhere between his neck and his shoulder, he couldn't even feel her breathe anymore. The standstill lasted for a second or two. Then he heard – or rather felt – how she swallowed hard.

"Don't say that..." she said, hardly loud enough to hear.

"Well, I didn't mean to swear," he said jokingly, one of his hands moving down her back, his thumb tracing her spine.

She lifted her head a little and drew in a breath. "That's not the part I meant..."

Joe frowned, his hand on her back having stopped moving. He could be mistaken, but somehow she sounded freaked out and choked up.

"Oh, you mean the I-love-you part?" Even if it had just slipped out earlier, he realized that he was in no mood to take it back now. "What's wrong with it?" He tried to keep up the light, teasing tone, but her reaction had thrown him off quite a bit.

It was supposed to go like this: I love you – I love you too. In an ideal world, that was – or in a movie.

"Just – don't..." she mumbled. It sounded like a plea.

Then she slipped off of him.

He remained lying on his back, feeling momentarily dumb-struck. Then, in a quick, jerky move, he turned on his side so he was facing her.

"We better keep feelings out of this, or what?" he asked through gritted teeth.

When there was no answer and she just kept staring straight up, he scoffed. "That's a brand new approach coming from you! Don't tell me you can do that!"

"I didn't say that," she said, her voice sounding strange and detached.

D felt like she suddenly was in a thick, impenetrable haze. From the corner of her eye she could feel him watching her, maybe waiting for some additional statement. And she knew there needed to be one. But her brain was still stuck on the one thing she should have said, but hadn't been able to say – the thing that was now somehow blocking the channels for fresh ideas.

"Man, Danny," Joe said, his voice strained. "You're just so torn apart... This is never going to work, is it?" He shook his head. "You're never ever going to get over it..."

She swallowed. There seemed to be something final in what he had just said.

"So what exactly was it we were doing during the last half hour?" His tone was cutting now. "Was that you being on autopilot?"

Joe knew perfectly well that what he had just said was idiotic – a mean and destructive way of venting his frustration. And still, when even now she didn't say anything, he went even further: "I sure hope we weren't on autopilot two nights ago as well..."

He said it, and then he flopped on his back, closed his eyes and waited – like someone that pulls the pin on a hand grenade, throws it and then waits for it to hit the ground and explode.

It took her a moment to react. The first thing he heard was her sucking in a sharp breath. Then, instead of any kind of explosion in the sense of verbal or physical attack, she yanked back the comforter with such force that it almost flew off the bed.

Before he understood what was happening, she had gotten out of bed. He may have tried to catch her arm, had he anticipated this reaction. But he hadn't. He had been going for maximum provocation. To get her to talk to him. To yell at him, if necessary. Her getting dressed and walking out on him had not been the plan.

He glanced over at her, suddenly feeling a lump rise in his throat.

What if she left? So far, she was still standing next to the bed, staring towards the door as if she hadn't quite made up her mind yet. The cable car wasn't running for another four hours or so.

He suspected that this probably wouldn't matter to her, though. She would just hide in some dark corner in the hotel or outside and wait until she could get off the mountain.

And then they'd have to start all over again or just leave it.

Lying there and picturing her walking out, Joe realized that he didn't see much sense in running after her this time. It wouldn't fix anything. Maybe certain things just couldn't be fixed. And her and him might just be one of those irreparable things. Maybe it was time to face it. He simply didn't have any more energy and imagination to pour into this. He was at the end of his wisdom. It was just absolutely sickening how they had just gone from a feeling like flying - to this...

When he registered D snatching her bra from the floor and take the two steps over to the chair, he turned his head to the window – away from her. Outside it was already dawning.

Behind him, he heard some shuffling and pictured her putting her bra back on. Then her pants and her top. He was bracing himself to hear her put on her sandals next, before she'd open the door and walk out.

# The Crap from the Past

(Very early Sunday, September 1st)

When he suddenly felt the mattress bounce a little, Joe turned his head and – to his big surprise – saw her climb back on the bed. She was wearing her clothes and his fleece jacket that she was just zipping up.

She sat down with her back against the headboard, pulled her legs up and snuck her bare feet under the comforter. She wasn't looking at him.

"What were you going to tell me at the lake?" she asked quietly.

Giving her a baffled look, he tried to process this unexpected twist that a) she hadn't left; b) she was actually still talking to him and c) she had seriously asked the question she had asked...

"What were you going to tell me?" she repeated with a glance over at him. Her voice was controlled.

He sucked in an audible breath and huffed it out again right away. "Oh, the thing you didn't want to hear?" There was a mocking edge.

D nodded. "Yeah, the thing I didn't want to hear. I'd like to hear it now."

Letting out a humorless laugh, Joe shifted his gaze back to the ceiling.

"Right," he said drily and crossed his arms behind his head. "You wanna hear it now. In the middle of the night and at the snip of your finger..."

D scoffed. "Oh, I'm so sorry if this keeps you from sleeping! But considering that I've had quite a few sleepless nights over you myself, my sympathy for your sleep deprivation is very limited!"

"Yeah, I can see that," he said flatly.

D for her part was trying hard to mask just how close she was to losing her footing here. Her heart was racing, her whole body was shaky and she had absolutely no idea what she was doing.

Burying her nose in the soft collar of his fleece jacket for a moment and she drew in a deep breath. Then she straightened up and glanced over at him.

"You thought it was important at the lake," she reminded him.

"Yeah, well." He shrugged without looking at her. "If I remember right, you absolutely didn't want to hear it. And I already told you then that it's not my favorite piece of conversation anyway, so..." Now he gave her a brief, hard look. "And I'm actually really not in the mood to warm this up now..."

When he could see her swallow, he realized that he was in the process of blowing the very last chance to keep this night from ending in total disaster. He told himself that he didn't care.

A seemingly endless moment of silence followed. Then D inhaled sharply and reached over. Lightly placing a hand on his arm she looked at him. "Tell me" she said. "Please."

Joe clenched his jaws, trying hard not to let this get to him. This light, gentle, warm touch.

"Joe... Please."

"Dammit!" He pulled his arm away from her touch. "Sure. I can tell you..." His tone was stubborn now. "But I really don't know what for. It won't change a thing..."

"I don't care," she said with a weak shrug, "I just want to know..." She wrapped her arms around her knees and leaned her cheek on her arm, facing him. Waiting.

"Okay," he grumbled. "It's just this – well – this fucking misunderstanding."

She gave him a questioning look.

"Well, it's something that kind of came up when I had breakfast with Sarah that morning after... after sleeping on your sofa."

"Okay..." It sounded like a question.

"Don't ask me how we got on the subject," he went on, "but Sarah told me some stuff I didn't know. About... well – the time when we – I mean you and I..." He fell silent trying to avoid past mistakes in phrasing this.

"The time we broke up," she helped him out, using exactly the words he had used at the lake.

"Yeah..." He decided not to comment on how ironic her putting it like this seemed. "Anyway, Sarah said that you tried to call me the morning after... after that damn party...." He was well aware that reviving those memories was probably not the best idea, but since she insisted on hearing it, and since nothing really mattered anymore at this point, here it was!

"Sarah told me..." He tried to keep his voice steady. "She said that Liz picked up my phone and told you that I was in her shower." He resisted the urge to look at her, and he didn't give her any time to react either. "For whatever difference it makes to you," he ploughed on, "I didn't... ahm... I didn't spend the night with her. And I definitely wasn't in her shower that morning when you called."

What followed was a few seconds of eerie silence.

When he finally shot her a glance again, he saw that she had lifted her head from her arm and was gazing at him with some bewilderment.

"What do you mean?" There was disbelief in her voice.

"I mean that somehow Liz must have had my phone and that Liz lied to you."

He saw her blink a few times. Then she bit down on her lower lip.

"I went to your dorm," he told her. "But... yeah, well –" He shrugged. "We both know that you didn't answer. And since I didn't have my phone... I thought I'd left it had Jack's... I couldn't call you either. You wouldn't have picked up anyway, I guess. Anyway... after the dorm, I went home. Alone. For what that's worth..." He paused for a moment. "That's what I wanted to tell you at the lake."

"You weren't even there???" There was a shrill undertone in her voice. She sounded – and looked – as if he had just told her that the Martians had landed that night and kidnapped him. "You weren't even there – that morning, in her shower...?"

"Nope," he gave a faint shake of his head. "I wasn't even there."

There was a long pause. Then she blew out a long, tense breath.

"Wow! What a bitch!" She still sounded as if she couldn't believe it. "This is just... this goes so far beyond..."

Not quite sure what to contribute to this, Joe just shrugged.

"And you lived with that bitch for..."

"Danny!" he cut her off. "Stop that, okay!?!" He had pulled one of his arms out from under his head and raised a hand defensively. "We've been through this. Yes, I've lived with her for three years, yeah. I'll spare you any more details of how that worked. I told you some yesterday, so..." He paused for a moment. "If it comforts you, though, I can assure you that answering your phone call that morning was just one of her many masterpieces."

D had just opened her mouth to say something, but given his latest disturbing statement, she closed her mouth again and swallowed.

"It doesn't comfort me," she said quietly.

"Well, great," he muttered. "And maybe if you'd actually talked to me at the dorm that night, things would have never gotten so screwed up."

"I couldn't have talked to you even if I'd wanted to," she retorted sharply. "I didn't get back to the dorm until way past midnight."

He frowned. "How come? Where did you go after the party?"

"Nowhere," she grumbled. "I was on my way back, and then the chain on my bike jumped out at that incline just before the forest..."

Slowly, Joe was starting to see the bigger picture.

She let out a humorless laugh. "It was great! It was dark, it was starting to rain and I couldn't even call anyone because the battery of my phone was dead. Otherwise I might have called Jack – since you were screwing Barbie."

Joe's jaws clicked. "I wasn't screwing anyone..." he said through clenched teeth. "That's what I was just trying to tell you. I was standing in front of your fucking dorm, ringing that fucking bell, thinking that you were just not opening..."

"Well – and I was pushing my bike through the rain, picturing you screwing Liz..." D retorted.

There was a long moment of silence.

Finally Joe blew out a long breath and turned on his side so he was facing her again.

He cleared his throat. "So you walked all the way?"

She shook her head. "Just to the street. Took me almost an hour and a half to get there, though. Then some guy stopped and offered me a ride. And I really didn't care that he looked a little freaky. I was soaked, I was tired, I was... well, it was kind of the end of the world anyway, so..." She shrugged. "I just got in."

Now Joe swallowed. He wasn't sure if he even dared to ask.

"Did... did something happen?" He cleared his throat again because it suddenly seemed really tight. "With that guy?"

She let out a bitter, little chuckle. "Halfway to the dorm he reached over and... I... I saw his hand on my knee and I just snapped. Totally. I pushed him, I yelled and screamed and sobbed. He probably didn't even know what had hit him. I almost feel sorry for him in retrospect. It's amazing we didn't run off the road. He got to hear it all. All of it! He was probably glad when he was able to drop me off at the dorm."

Joe released a quiet breath of relief and dropped his gaze to where his hand was now clenched around the corner of the pillowcase. Things had gone so wrong that night. On so many levels.

"When I called you the next day," she said and pulled him out of his considerations. "I didn't call you to talk to you and try to work things out. I called to yell at you – just to make me feel better, and to kick you out of my life. Liz just saved you the yelling..."

"Yeah, maybe." He was twisting the corner of his pillow between his fingers. "But it still might have changed things."

D thought about that for a moment. "I don't think so."

Joe looked up at her. "Why not?"

She dropped her gaze. "Because you wouldn't have wanted to work things out."

"Sure, I would..."

"Oh, come on, Joe," she interrupted. "Even before you started messing around with Liz, there were some issues. And don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. As soon as we signed up for the London exchange program, it was as if you were starting to – I don't know – as if you were so sick of it. Or me..."

"That's not true," he claimed. "I was just–"

"Well, whatever it was," she interrupted warily. "You had those phases where you were just sooo hard to be around. Really. You were irritable, critical, weird, distant... It was a lot like after that thing with your Dad had happened. You shut me out. It used to drive me nuts."

She turned her head so she wasn't looking at him anymore.

"I kept trying to figure out what was wrong. And you kept insisting that everything was just perfectly fine. But it wasn't fine at all! There were several times when I was so ready to end it. Because I really didn't want to be stuck in London with you when you're like that." She took a deep breath before she continued, "But then you suddenly changed into your old self again. At least for a little while."

Listening to her, Joe was scrambling for something to say in his defense. "I didn't realize it was that bad," was all he could come up with.

She shrugged. "It wasn't always bad." Her tone had softened a bit. "But all in all it was like you were trying to force me to break up with you just so you wouldn't have to do it. And then, every time you had me to the point where I was ready to grant you that wish, you switched back to normal. And things were fine. Until it started all over again. Talk about being torn apart..."

Joe wanted to contradict, but deep down inside he knew that she was right.

Beside him, D let out a humorless little laugh. "But I was so stupid too. Really! So naïve! Even after I caught you with Liz at the party, I seriously thought that it might be just an excuse – to get out of... us."

"May have been," he said slowly.

D shook her head. "Seriously? Someone you spend three years with afterwards?"

"Yeah, I know it's crazy," he admitted grudgingly, "But initially that's all it was, I think – the perfect way to boycott London and everything I had with you..."

She released an audible breath. "Well, aren't you glad it worked so well..."

He sighed, but didn't respond. No, he wasn't glad at all...

"What was your problem?" D asked. "Do you even know? I mean – I asked you often enough, but I never got an answer. What was so scary about the London thing?"

"I don't know," he said evasively. "It's stupid from today's point of view, so..."

"Tell me!" she insisted. "If there is any theory, then tell me!"

Joe flopped on his back again. "Yeah, there is a theory..."

"Okay? Which is...?"

He didn't answer right away. "Maybe..." he finally said, "It might have had something to do with... well – the implications of you and me spending a year abroad together..."

"Which implications?" She didn't get it at all.

Then, when he didn't answer, but just kept staring straight up, she huffed out a breath like an angry dragon.

"Did you think we'd have to get married afterwards?" Her tone was cutting now.

"Well... I already said it sounds stupid today," he muttered defiantly.

She let out an incredulous laugh. "That's just..." she shook her head. "That never even crossed my mind!" There was another dark laugh. "But who knows – if it had crossed my mind, I might have behaved just as idiotic as you..."

Still staring straight up, Joe swallowed. He had no idea what to say anymore.

For a while there was total silence.

"You know," D suddenly said then. "And I don't care that you don't want to hear it, but this doesn't make any sense at all that – just because you were scared of going to London with me – you'd get involved with Liz and then even move in with her. The moving-in part is what really –"

"Yeah, I know that," Joe interrupted her with an air of impatience. "And that's the part you'll never get over, right? That part that really doesn't make any sense at all." He tensely ran a hand over his forehead. "But I really can't help you with that! It happened. It's done. Can't change it now! Maybe things wouldn't have turned out this way if your chain hadn't jumped out that night and you'd gotten to the dorm earlier, or if at least Liz hadn't had my phone. It's senseless to ponder all the 'what-if' crap now."

"Yeah, I know," D agreed quietly.

For a while they just remained silent, both following their own thoughts.

Finally Joe heard D released a breath that sounded a bit irritated.

"What now?" he asked, reading all kinds of things into it.

"Oh, nothing," she muttered. "Just that... well, even if you weren't screwing her that night, you were by then, weren't you?"

Joe bit down on his lip and shifted his gaze back to the ceiling.

"You went over to her place so many evenings," she said. "Supposedly to help Jack help her with God knows what. And I had my doubts right from the start that Jack was really always there, and I kind of knew that she had you on her menu from day one..."

His eyes shot over to her again. "Huh?"

Looking back at him, she shrugged. "Remember that time when Jack brought her along – to the Chinese restaurant? Must have been one of the first times we ever met her. There was this look she shot you across the table. You didn't even notice it, I guess, because you were so immersed in your food. But I kind of thought, 'Wow, she's all over Jack here and at the same time..." She shrugged. "So, I kind of had a feeling even then, but I would have never thought you'd seriously ever fall for her."

Staring at the ceiling again, Joe didn't say anything.

"But then you were over there a few times and... well, you'd apparently kind of decided you were sick of me, so..."

"I wasn't..." Joe muttered.

"Doesn't matter," she said curtly. "I had a bad feeling, but at the same time I didn't want to cling to you when... well – love's the only thing you can't force."

Joe briefly glanced at her, not quite sure if what she had just said, was pertaining only to the past and her not seeing any sense in clinging to him, or also to the present and his not having a chance because she just wasn't feeling it...

"Two weeks before the party Jack called me in the evening," she interrupted his thoughts. "He was asking for you." She let out a bitter, little laugh. "You had somehow told him you'd be with me at the dorm, and you had told me that you'd be going out with Jack. I'm pretty sure I wasn't the only one making the connection during that phone conversation. But you know Jack. He tried to come up with some excuse for you." She brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. "I would have thought he would warn you."

"Well, he didn't," Joe retorted drily. "And if you really need to know: Nothing had happened at that point, okay? Or... not much."

D let out another bitter laugh. "Meaning?"

His expression defiant, Joe turned to look at her. "It really only just started right before the party." He paused and cleared his throat. "And it was not... well, it's not like I just fell madly in love with her instead of you. It wasn't like that at all. She wasn't even really my type. She told me maybe three weeks before the party that she's in love with me, and I pretty much ran out. Was kind of a shock... I basically avoided her after that and didn't really see her again until a few days before the party. That's when we... Shit – yeah – that's when we ended up in bed together." He released a tense breath. "We – that would be you and me now – had had a fight – about London. You were mad. I was mad. And I was stupid enough to go over to Liz's. And I can't even say that I didn't have the slightest idea where that might lead."

D held his gaze for a moment longer, then dropped her eyes to her hands that were cramped in her lap. "Great," she said, her face an unreadable mask now.

Joe watched her for a moment, then pulled back his blanket and got up from the bed. He couldn't lie here any longer.

"I went to the party by myself," he insisted and walked over to the window, his back to her. "And at that point, I wasn't even sure I ever wanted to see her again."

He pulled the curtains apart halfway to look outside. The sun hadn't risen yet, but it was getting brighter and the mountain tops seemed to be glowing.

From behind him, he heard D scoff.

He turned around again and looked at her undecidedly.

"Actually, I need to know this..." He ran a hand through his hair. "I mean – we already know what Liz did with my phone the day after the party, so I was wondering... I guess she could have done something like that on another occasion – the morning before the party." There was an uncomfortable pause. "I mean - my phone was lying around, she did have access... So, if you were trying to let me know that you'd be coming to the party, I never got anything..."

"I didn't," she said plainly. "First of all I didn't even know that I'd be able to make it until that afternoon, and then I didn't really feel like letting you know."

He raised his eyebrows.

"Okay..." For the first time in his life he had obviously suspected Liz of a crime she hadn't committed. "Great, then." He threw out his hands. "You didn't, by any chance, conspire with Jack to get me and Liz to the basement at the same time..."

"What???"

Defensively raising his hands, Joe shook his head. "Sorry... guess not..."

D was sitting on the bed, giving him a furious look.

"I'm sorry, okay?" he muttered angrily.

Her face hard, she shook her head and looked away. "I got home earlier and decided spontaneously that I could still go to the party," she said. "And out of some crazy mood I didn't even try to call you. Don't ask me why. I remember biking there and having that weird feeling. Like when you go to the dentist and you suspect you'll get a root canal, and you know you just need to go through with it. I don't know what I expected. But I think it was kind of what I found...."

Joe blew out a breath and briefly closed his eyes. Then he straightened up, tilted his head from side to side as if to loosen up. Finally he stepped away from the window.

"I'm gonna have a shower," he said. Then he walked around the bed, grabbed his towel and left the room.

# Descending

(Sunday, September 1st)

D was still sitting on the bed by the time Joe came back from his shower. It was close to six o'clock, and they still had almost an hour until breakfast and another half hour until the first cable car down.

"I'm going to take a walk," she said, eyeing him cautiously. "If you wanna come, maybe we could..." In the back of her head she had imagined how a walk together might help turn the situation around; bring some normalization. They could even watch the sunrise...

Joe picked up his shirt that she had neatly hung over the chair again and slipped it on. Over his shoulder he told her to just go ahead. Go, take a walk. He was going to stay here, check some e-mails on his phone and read the news. He wasn't feeling like going outside right now.

He didn't look at her once.

So she left.

Stumbled out of the room, struggling for a halfway composed expression.

She stepped out of the building and walked. Fast. Up to the viewpoint – despite the sandals. And then she stood up there, out of breath and a giant lump in her throat as the sun rose and memories of everything that had happened over the last few hours flashed by and made her feel almost nauseous.

When she returned to the hotel, Joe was sitting outside on one of the benches that were currently in the full morning sun. He had his eyes closed, his arms folded over his chest and his head tilted against the house wall behind him.

Seeing him like this, D felt this strong urge to just step up to him, block the sun and see him open his eyes. She couldn't help imagining dropping down on his lap, putting her hands around his face and kissing him – make all the crap go away.

But then he opened his eyes and she felt a chill.

"Hi," he said stiffly. "Did you have a good walk then?" There wasn't the faintest trace of real interest in an answer.

"Yeah, was okay," she mumbled, her mouth dry.

"Good," he said with look that seemed to go through her. "Let's have some breakfast..." He pushed himself up from the bench and, without paying attention whether she was following or not, headed inside.

Throughout breakfast Joe kept up a neutral expression and dropped a few non-committal comments about the weather being nice, the coffee being a bit weak and the first ride down leaving in thirty minutes. He ate his food, drank his coffee and carefully avoided ever looking her in the eyes.

Feeling almost sick, D struggled to keep up appearances, choke down some bread, sip on her coffee and react to the few things he said in some form that wouldn't show how miserable she felt. During all this she tried to convince herself that something good might come out of the talk they had had; that their having dissected the past would have a cleansing and positive effect in the long run. She could only hope so...

~~~

Half an hour later they were on the cable car going down.

They were the only people in the gondola except for an employee from the hotel who was probably heading down for his day off.

D was standing at the window looking out. Her stomach was in one big knot. The gondola had arrived, she had gotten on first, automatically taking a few steps towards the window facing down, but then noticing her mistake and turning around again, so she could stand somewhere around the center pole.

But Joe had, right after stepping into the gondola, headed to the exact opposite side of the gondola and sat down on one of the corner seats. An unreadable expression on his face he had pulled out his phone and started playing with it.

~~~

Staring out of her window that she had stepped up to after all, D's mind was racing. She could still turn around and walk over there, maybe sit in the second corner seat or just stand next to him at the window. If she wanted to do that, she had to do it now, though. The ride lasted only a few minutes and the gondola had just swung out of the station...

Her pulse thundering in her ears, she turned her head just enough so she could see him from the corner of her eye.

He was still playing with his phone.

Her throat tight and her legs feeling like lead she turned back to the window. She couldn't go over there right now. Not after she had just had two scary, but very realist visions: of how he might either totally ignore her when she stepped up to him, or he'd simply shoot her a cold, questioning look.

She wouldn't be able to take it. It would just make things so much worse – because she'd counter with her own stupid reaction, and then...

Maybe she should just let him be for right now. Give them both some space – at least for today. Tomorrow was another day.

~~~

On the ride home Joe had the car radio turned up louder than usual. It was set on a morning news program. Lots of talking, no music...

D glanced over at him a few times, but he had his eyes fixed on the road, his hands on the steering wheel and a tense expression on his face that seemed to say Do not disturb.

Now that he pulled into her street, her heart started racing again. Over the course of this car ride she had decided that, once he dropped her off at home, she was going to suggest that they meet tomorrow evening – at the lake or wherever. Otherwise she'd drive herself nuts again for a few days, contemplating if and how to best get in touch with him. She just hoped she'd have the guts to say something and actually get a word out.

Joe pulled up in front of her house.

She waited for him to turn off the car, but he didn't. He switched off the radio, however.

"Well," he said with a shrug and an undecided look at her, "I guess I should head home and start packing..." With that announcement, his eyes trailed off to the front window.

D faltered. What was that?

"Packing for what?" she asked, her voice unsteady.

His eyes returned to her, and he squinted, obviously a little confused. "I told you that I'm going to Amsterdam tomorrow morning, right?"

It felt as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water over her head. Had he told her? Wouldn't she remember that?

"Oh, okay..." she stammered, "I don't think you did, but..." Instead of finishing her sentence, she shrugged helplessly.

A trip to Amsterdam would take how long? Two days? Three? Somehow the car suddenly seemed to be spinning...

"How long are you there for?" She wasn't sure how she even managed to form a full, reasonable-sounding sentence.

Glancing out the front window, he frowned as if to remember.

"I'm in Amsterdam until Wednesday afternoon," he finally said, "and then I'll have to be at the office until Friday because Steve's on vacation and I'm covering for him – this week and the next."

"Okay..." D felt winded. "Well – sounds like you're going to be busy..." A stubborn edge had crept into her voice, as something inside her had kicked into cover-up mode. Cover up the sickening effect of what he had just said. Cover up the urgent desire to ask if he was coming back on the weekend and where the hell he was planning to stay during the time he was in Munich covering for Steve. And how, if he was going to be gone, they would ever be able to work things out...

Joe shrugged. "Yeah well..." His eyes flickered over to her again, his gaze extremely guarded. "I should go."

Her jaws clenched, D nodded, unable to hold his gaze.

"Sure," she said curtly and reached for the latch to open the door. "Have a good trip." It was the professional tone of an airport employee checking tickets and passports at the gate.

"Thanks," he said, mirroring her tone.

She pushed open the door. "Bye."

"Bye," he replied flatly.

With a lump in her throat D pushed the car door shut and shakily headed down the gravel path across the front yard. She was just taking the three steps that led up to her door, when she heard him drive away.

With trembling hands and with her vision turning increasingly cloudy she unlocked the door. When the first thing she saw upon entering were Pete's bags beside the coffee table and the half-full praline box on the sofa – the praline box Joe had held out to her yesterday – she stormed over there and gave one of Pete's bags a kick that sent it flying across the living room. Tears were rolling down her face when she dropped onto the big chair...

# Foreign Country Code

(Sunday, September 1st)

When Sarah got home Sunday evening, some potatoes were boiling in a pot in the kitchen. Joe was nowhere to be seen, but she figured that he must be upstairs.

Since the timer for the potatoes showed fifteen more minutes, she was confident that he would appear soon.

And maybe he would actually shed some light on what had been going on since his break-in in D's flat over 24 hours ago.

Sarah couldn't deny that she was curious – and worried. She had tried not to think about it too much. And being with Jack was an excellent distraction...

A door being opened upstairs and someone coming down the stairs pulled her out of her sweet thoughts.

"Sarah?" Joe called on his way down.

"In the kitchen," she called back.

"Hi, I thought I heard the garage door..." Joe appeared in the doorway.

"You can hear that upstairs?"

He nodded and stepped around her to have a look at his potatoes. "Are you hungry?" he asked. "Or did Jack already feed you? I got two steaks and potatoes..."

"Sure, steak sounds great," Sarah said with a smile.

"Well, good..." He took a package from the butchery out of the fridge, unwrapped the steaks and plopped them on a plate and drizzled some olive oil on them. "How are things with Jack?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Good," Sarah said. And as she felt a big smile creeping up on her she added, "Very good, actually..."

Laughing, Joe took the big fork out of the drawer and turned around. "Excellent!" He seemed very content and, Sarah suspected, convinced that part of this was just thanks to his meddling.

"How are things with you?" she asked, eyeing him cautiously.

The fork in one hand and the plate in the other, he seemed to come to a halt. His eyes on the steaks, he seemed to be weighing his answer. He shrugged. "Yeah, well – I don't know."

"Okay," Sarah tried her best to read his expression – or his mind. It was impossible. "Well – are you back in your test phase with D? Or is that cancelled for good?"

He chewed on his lower lip, then looked up at her. Shrugged. "I don't know. Just..." He shook his head. "Really don't know." He pulled his mouth into a crooked smile. "I think I'll start grilling the steaks." With that he headed into the living room and out into the garden.

Being left behind in the kitchen, Sarah started taking out plates and silverware. What he had said sure didn't sound like a happy ending at all. But also not like all was lost. So, who knew? She wished he'd spit out a few more details so she could judge for herself, but knowing him, he wasn't going to tell her any more than she had just heard. And maybe she should just be glad about it. At least this way she didn't get caught between the frontlines.

She went outside to the garden where Joe was just starting the barbecue and she set the table.

"Can you check the potatoes?" Joe called over his shoulder just as she was on her way back inside.

In the kitchen Sarah poked the potatoes with a fork. They seemed done, but she decided to wait until the timer would go off in three minutes.

She leaned against the counter, watched the water boil and waited.

Suddenly a phone started ringing behind her.

She turned around and spotted Joe's phone on the counter next to the knife block. The display was showing some name and a number. Sarah stepped closer and squinted.

Christine.

She frowned. The number shown under the name started with 0031...

What country did 0031 stand for? She'd have to look it up later. And who in the world was Christine?

The timer went off and she drained the potatoes, her mind still occupied with Christine-related contemplations. As much as she was dying to know who that was, she realized that she probably shouldn't flat-out ask her brother. Maybe she shouldn't even admit that this call had come in in her presence. She almost wished that it hadn't.

She transferred the potatoes to a bowl, grabbed some sour cream and salt and went back outside.

Joe was just flipping the steaks on the grill and looked like he was deep in thought about something.

"Do you want me to cook tomorrow?" Sarah offered as she sat down at the table. "I get off around six-thirty and Jack's got plans with his karate club."

Joe looked up. "That's nice, but I'm going to Amsterdam tomorrow morning. Didn't I tell you?"

Sarah frowned. "I don't think you told me. You're going for business?"

He nodded and came over to collect the plates. "Yeah, we have a customer there. Kind of my responsibility now, since Steve and the owner don't get along."

He placed a steak on each plate and came back to the table, setting one plate in front of Sarah.

"Hopefully not too bloody," he said and pulled out the chair across from her. "I can put it on a little longer..."

Sarah cut into the meat and checked the color. "No, that's fine," she said. "Perfect, actually."

Joe reached for the sour cream. "Don't try this with Jack, though." He chuckled mischievously.

Sarah gave him a very dark look although there was a giggle tickling her throat and trying to come out.

Unimpressed by her look, Joe shrugged and chuckled some more. "I'm serious, he's a master meat destroyer..."

"I know, I know," Sarah laughed, then batted her eyes at her brother and whispered. "But he has other talents..."

Joe dropped his knife and fork with an accusing glare and put his hands over his ears. "Please, spare me the details," he moaned. "I'm eating here!"

"Payback time," Sarah grinned.

"Figures." He continued mashing his potatoes with his fork before mixing in some sour cream and salt.

They ate in silence for a while.

Finally Sarah looked up again. "When are you getting back? From Amsterdam."

"I fly back on Wednesday," he said, chewing. "But Steve's on vacation the coming two weeks, and I need to cover for him. So, I get back from Amsterdam and go straight to the office."

"Oh, right..." Sarah said, suddenly remembering how, on the way home from the hotel two weeks ago, he had mentioned something about having to cover for Steve. She had totally forgotten about it.

"I'll probably be back on Friday evening, though – if that's alright," he said.

"Of course that's alright!" Sarah assured him. "I thought that was clear! Are you going to sleep in your office while you're covering for Steve then?"

Joe nodded. "Yeah, it's perfectly set up for that."

Despite his light tone, Sarah couldn't help feeling a sting. Looking down at her plate, she tried not to think about how messed up your relationship must be if you start furnishing your office for overnight stays.

"Steve offered me his house too, of course," Joe said. "But with Liz undoubtedly having a key and such..."

Sarah nodded. "Sounds creepy. I'd prefer sleeping on the floor somewhere too, if I were you..."

He laughed.

Sarah's mind returned to Amsterdam. She wondered what country code the Netherlands had? 0031?

"Where are you staying in Amsterdam?" she asked into the blue.

"Always the same hotel. Close to the Van Gogh Museum. Can walk anywhere from there."

"That's great," she said. "You hopefully also get to do something besides work...?"

He shrugged. "Not a whole lot. I might go out to eat with my business partner one evening, and meet some friends."

Sarah's ears perked up and she gave him an interested look. "Which friends do you have there?"

"Remember Peer?" he asked.

Sarah thought for a moment. Peer? Slowly she nodded. "Oh, your roommate from the flat in Vienna?"

"Yep. That one."

Sarah had met Peer three times.

"He's from Amsterdam. And – well – I used to get together with him and his girlfriend when I was there for business."

"That's nice..." Sarah said. "Funny, though – I would have sworn he was gay."

Joe coughed. "Yeah, well... turns out, he actually is. Last time I was there, Christine called me and..." He gave a slightly helpless shrug. "She told me. They had just split up a few days before. He actually is gay..."

In Sarah's mind the mention of Peer's girlfriend's name – or ex-girlfriend's, technically – had set in motion a clicking and turning of all possible wheels in her head.

"That must be hard," she said slowly. "For her, I mean. Did you actually hear from Peer too, then?"

"Nope, haven't heard from him ever since. Met with Christine, though – last time I was there. She was pretty upset. Understandably." He took another bite. His steak was almost gone.

Sarah watched him closely. "Last time you were there? Right after you left Liz?"

He nodded, his eyes on his plate where he was scraping together the last bits of his potato sour cream mush.

Sarah dropped her gaze to her own plate and considered this: Christine, just having been dumped by Peer for another guy, meets Joe, who had just a few hours earlier walked out on Liz and the relationship from hell. Two heartbroken people coming together. Sharing some stories... Sarah quickly shoved a big bite of steak into her mouth and tried not to think this through. It was hard not to, however. The way he had so carefully avoided looking up at her since the topic had come up, seemed suspicious. Or maybe she was just imagining it. She could only hope so. But it was a fact that Christine had just called on his phone fifteen minutes ago. Probably to see when he wanted to meet her for dinner this time. Hopefully dinner was all it was going to be!

# Back to Work

(Monday, September 2nd)

When D got to her office door Monday morning, it was still locked. She was almost relieved to find that June wasn't here yet. She felt down and miserable, and she just couldn't imagine how she'd be able to deal with the chatter about London today.

This was her first day back at work since returning from London last Thursday, but somehow it felt as if weeks had passed since then. So much had happened.

Getting up this morning, she had wished she could just take off and go somewhere for a day or two and hide. From everything and everybody – until some things became clearer in her head and until the extreme tension in her stomach or chest or wherever else that crappy feeling resided, eased a bit.

While still in London, she had told June a little about Joe – more honestly than she might have told even Robert or Sarah. June had listened intently and finally smiled, patted her shoulder and announced dreamily that love had to always come first – before jobs and money – and colleagues that really wanted to keep you around... Love had to come first – providing that it was real love and the perfect thing.

A big lump in her throat, D sat down at her desk and started the computer. The perfect thing... She swallowed hard. As the scenes from the mountain and bits and pieces of the conversation in the hotel room flashed by – all of it seeming nightmarish this morning – she could feel the bile creep up her throat.

She had so messed it up! So totally, totally messed it up...

Drawing in a quick breath, she straightened up in her chair. She needed to focus on work here. There would for sure be a lot of e-mails and, once everyone was in, a lot to do and several people wanting to know how it had been in London...

Outlook had opened on her screen. There were 65 new e-mails. She scrolled down and skimmed through the subjects and senders. There was a lot of miscellaneous stuff, but there were also some e-mails from David, Harry and Sven – probably about the job in London.

# Back to Amsterdam

(Monday, September 2nd)

Joe couldn't wait for this plane ride to end. He was sitting in the back of the plane, wedged between a young mother with a whiny toddler on her lap and an elderly lady who was totally engrossed with the toddler. The two women had been chatting across him without interruption ever since they had taken their seats, and the toddler was whining and fidgeting around.

When, even before the plane had taken off, the two women had tried to engage him in their conversation, he had pretended not to speak their language and had quickly put his headphones into his ears. Then he had turned on the music (on something neutral), closed his eyes and tried to zone out everything around him. The next time he travelled by himself, he was definitely going to book business class...

He had been sitting in his seat with his ears plugged and his eyes closed for twenty minutes now (it felt like hours) and there was still at least forty minutes left to go. He had actually hoped that he might nod off once the engines started humming. That hadn't happened, unfortunately. Instead his mind had started whirling with issues regarding Danny – and all the crap that had happened between them over the past few days.

It made his chest tighten just to think about it, and he had a hard time keeping his eyes closed and his jaws from clenching too hard.

The night at the mountain had been an eye-opener in a lot of ways.

Right from the beginning he hadn't been sure where this thing with her was going. And he had intentionally not given it too much thought – maybe afraid that he might jinx it. There was no denying that it had been wiggly and unstable right from the start.

He experienced a rush of frustration as he remembered their rolling around in bed Saturday night. The kissing. Her body on top of his. Her hand against his face

It had really felt like flying.

And then everything had come crashing down when he had told her that he loved her. Man, why in the world had he dropped that bomb?

Her reaction had been priceless – in the worst possible way. Why she had ever let it get that far – emotionally and physically – when at the same time she was totally freaked out by the possibility of his actually being serious about them, was beyond him. And he hadn't realized just how serious he was about them until she had reacted like that. It was kind of ironic...

The soft nudge of the toddler's shoe kicking against his knee, made him open his eyes and exhale. His eyes met those of the young mother and she gave him an uncomfortable, apologetic smile and quickly shifted the kid on her lap to where any further kicking would hit the seat in front of them instead of Joe's knees.

Closing his eyes again, Joe couldn't stop his mind from darting straight back to where it had been before the little distraction – to the night on the mountain... The discussion Danny and he had had about the past started replaying in his head and he could feel his throat tighten. He had had no idea how well she had seen through him even at that time. She had sensed his reservations about the exchange year in London probably before he had admitted to himself that he had any. She had tried to work it out with him – and he had lied to her. She had stuck around despite his moods and even though there had been a lot of times when – how had she put it? – when he had been so hard to be around... And amazingly she even seemed to have identified Liz as a possible threat – at a time when he had still viewed Liz as Jack's annoying, high-maintenance new flame that would disappear from their lives within a few weeks. Little had he known how she was going to mess up his life. Or how he would let her mess up his life...

Danny had stuck around because she had really cared. Then. She had stuck around until she had seen no reason to stick around any longer.

How had she put it? Love's the one thing you can't force...

Joe swallowed.

And maybe love was also the thing you just can't revive after you've killed it.

The way she had frozen against him as a reaction to his slipped-out confession was suddenly vividly back. That and how he had burst out accusing her of possibly having done everything before that on autopilot. She had almost walked out after that.

Keeping his eyes closed, he involuntarily ground his teeth. He knew perfectly well that there was no way she had faked it all.

Something much worse had just crossed his mind, though – a bold and disturbing theory – basically an alternative to the autopilot theory. Being with her had felt like flying. But what if they had never even made it off the ground – figuratively speaking. What if it had been nothing but good flight simulation – with her never letting the warning lamps and control switches out of her sight, while testing how far she could go, experimenting with her own limits, seeing how it would feel. While her hand was constantly ready to slam on the emergency stop button...

Drawing in a deep breath, he tried to force his mind to focus on something else. Somehow, being on a plane while thinking about these complicated, frustrating issues (autopilot, flight simulation...) wasn't really helping. He needed to think of something else. Amsterdam. Yeah, Amsterdam was a good thing to think about. SCANY. And Christine...

He had called her an hour ago from the airport. It had been nice to hear her voice, and she had sounded truly happy to hear from him. They had agreed to meet at a restaurant close to where she lived for dinner tomorrow evening.

He was looking forward to seeing her. Something uncomplicated with no strings attached!

# D and Robert

(Monday, September 2nd)

"So, how was London," Robert asked as his sister sat down across from him. It was Monday, he was in town, and they were at the Chinese restaurant across from D's office.

"Good," D said lightly. After a morning of having answered this very question several times already, it came across her lips easily.

The little Chinese lady came and took their orders.

Robert's glance followed her as she walked away, then his gaze returned to his sister.

"Sounds good then," he said, "I mean London."

D nodded. "Yeah, it was good."

"So are you going to do it?" Robert inquired. "Your company wants you over there?

"I'm not sure," she said evasively. "We'll see."

"You're not sure they'll want you over there or you're not sure –"

"I'm not sure I really want to do it," she said curtly.

"Why not?" he asked. "I mean – I'm not desperate to get rid of you, but it would probably be good for your career and –"

"Can we maybe talk about this some other time when I know more?" she suggested with an air of impatience. "I'm really not in the mood right now."

"Okay. Sorry." Robert frowned at her. "Seems like you're in quite a crappy mood, actually," he said. "Maybe I should let you eat something before I talk to you at all..."

# Jan's Offer

(Monday, September 2nd)

At 6:50 pm Joe was walking home alone from a micro-brewery he had been to with Jan and Anders after work. He crossed a pedestrian bridge which had several ancient-looking bikes locked to it and then followed the canal for a while. He felt slightly drowsy from at least two more beers than he should have had, but also strangely elated. They had gotten into talking about the idea Jan had surprised him with on the phone a few days ago – the idea that he could work out of SCANY's headquarter at least for a few years while staying co-owner of R&D at the same time.

Jan seemed to have put quite a bit of thought into the idea since they had last talked. And, the more Joe had listened and sipped his beer, the more appealing Jan's offer had started to sound.

# Talk to her anyway...

(Tuesday, September 3rd)

At 4:35 pm on Tuesday afternoon, Sarah sprinted to her car that was parked in the very back of the hospital's employee parking lot. She was holding her jacket over her head, trying to shield herself from the rain and the cold wind. It was hard to believe that yesterday had still been nice and sunny. Now fall seemed to have arrived.

She quickly dropped into the driver's seat, pulled the door shut and flung the wet jacket onto the backseat where she had unfortunately left her umbrella in the morning. The weather forecast had predicted cooler temperatures but not such an extreme drop and no rain either.

She quickly checked her phone. There were two text messages. One from Jack asking her to call him when she got a chance; the second one from Mom saying that they were going to have a little birthday celebration for Grandma next Saturday afternoon.

Sarah put the hands-free headset into her ear and called Jack back.

He picked up right away. "Did you just get off work?" He sounded like he had a smile on his face.

"Yeah, I'm on my way home now. How're you doing?"

"Missing you."

"Oh, really?" Sarah pretended to be surprised even though his announcement and his particular tone had just caused such a nice tingle in her stomach.

"Yep. Really. Extremely..." Jack confirmed in an exaggeratedly smoldering voice as if he could hardly take it.

"Well, it's not me, who's got better plans tonight," Sarah said jokingly. "It's not me, who prefers the karate guys to an evening with me doing–"

"Please don't say it," Jack begged. "Don't tell me what I'm missing..."

She laughed deviously. "I'll drive home now and drop all my clothes and have a bath..."

Jack laughed out loud. "Thank you!"

"Welcome!" she chuckled. "Feel free to come and join me. My brother's gone..."

"Man, you are so evil!" Jack laughed. Then he turned serious again. "But I have to go to that thing. Really. It's a yearly event and if I don't show up even for that, after I have already missed a few weeks of training, they'll probably kick me out."

"It's okay," Sarah said with grand generosity. "I'll forgive you."

"You could call D," Jack suggested. "Or have you heard from her?"

Sarah didn't answer right away. "No, I haven't," she said then. Even to herself she sounded guilty.

"What did Joe say on Sunday?" Jack asked, "Are they back together now or what's going on?"

"I'm not sure what's going on," Sarah slowly admitted. "He didn't say a whole lot, and the bit he did say, didn't sound really promising. But you know him, he'll only talk when he wants to, and yesterday he didn't want to go into any detail. At least not about D. He told me something about some female friend in Amsterdam instead that he's probably going to meet with while he's there." She paused for a moment, wondering if it was really fair to Joe to bring this up. But since it bothered her so much she couldn't have stopped herself anyway. "She's the ex-girlfriend of Peer. Remember Peer?"

"His roommate from when he was studying in Vienna."

"Exactly," Sarah said, "Sounds like the last time Joe was in Amsterdam – and please note that that was right after he had left Liz – he met with this Christine and she was apparently all upset because she had just found out that Peer is gay..." Her tone should tell Jack all he needed to know.

"And you think Joe... comforted her?" Jack concluded.

Sarah coughed out a little laugh. "If that's what you'd like to call it... Comforted her, comforted himself, whatever! And please don't tell me he'd never do such a thing."

Jack took a moment to consider this. "Well, even if he did," he finally said, "And I assume your sick little mind goes way beyond a comforting arm around Christine's shoulder..."

"Yes, way beyond that..." Sarah confirmed darkly.

"Yeah, but that would have been before he came here," Jack pointed out. "Correct?"

"Yeah, yeah, correct," Sarah grumbled, "I know! But he's going to see her again..."

"Yeah, well... I don't know what to tell you," Jack said. "Especially since I don't have the slightest idea what's going on with D and him. I really think you need to have a chat with D. See what's going on and make sure she's alright."

Sarah drew in an audible breath.

"This hopefully isn't still about you girls not being able to talk about your brother," Jack sighed. "Because if it is, you need to get over it!"

"I'll talk to her, alright," Sarah muttered defensively. "I mean, it's not just that discussing Joe with her is a bit weird. I also still have to tell her about my new boyfriend..."

~~~

Joe checked his watch at 5:30 pm. He was supposed to meet Christine in ninety minutes, but the way things were going here at SCANY, he was almost sure he wouldn't get out of here until seven.

"Hey, I've just got to send someone a quick message," he told Anders, with who he had been working in SCANY's server room all afternoon.

"No problem." Anders stretched with a yawn. "I'm going to get another coffee. Do you want one?" He got up from his chair.

Already pulling out his phone, Joe shook his head. "No, thanks." After three cups in the afternoon he didn't feel like having any more caffeine.

He typed a quick text message to Christine:

Hey,

Sorry, but can we meet half an hour later? Need to finish something here at work.

Joe

The phone still in his hand, he reached up with his free hand and cupped the back of his neck. He felt like some nerve or muscle was pinched there ever since he had gotten off the plane yesterday. It was starting to drive him crazy. He tilted his head back and forth a few times, but it didn't help.

The phone in his hand vibrated.

A response from Christine:

Hey, no problem. 7:30 then. See you soon. C

~~~

Soaking in her bathtub, Sarah thought about what Jack had said – about her calling D. She knew she should. She should have called D days ago. She should have actually never gotten into that discussion with Joe on Saturday, she should have never told him what she had told him about D and Pete and should have never informed him about the spare key. Instead she should have insisted on going over there herself ... But she hadn't done that. A chain reaction of bad judgments – set off by the absolutely disarming experience of having her brother actually turn to her for help... And what a help she had been. Only that now she wasn't sure how to face her best friend again.

# Navigating Tricky Terrain

(Tuesday, September 3rd)

Sarah leaned back into the sofa cushion and glanced over at her D.

A little over an hour ago she had still been soaking in her bath. Engulfed in lots of nice-smelling foam and trying to come up with the best strategy for a call to D. (Best introductory words; what to say; what better not to mention...)

When she had finally climbed out of the bathtub, there had been no foam left, the water had only been lukewarm anymore, her toes had looked like hundred-year-old prunes and she had still not had a good plan for that call to D. She had known that she really did need to make that call, though.

A towel loosely wrapped around herself, she had gone to the bedroom to put on her sweats. Suddenly her phone had started ringing from the bed where she had dropped it earlier.

It had turned out to be D...

Sarah had picked up, saying something about telepathy and how she had just been thinking about calling herself.

D had said that she was just leaving work. She had sounded tense and had asked if Sarah wanted to get together one of these days. Sarah had suggested that D just come by the house tonight. They could order Chinese food for dinner...

So, here they were – a little after seven o'clock, both holding a bowl of rice, topped with Sweet and Sour Chicken and Eight Treasures in one hand and chopsticks in the other.

They had started eating while having a half-hearted small talk about the weather and about neighbors with dogs. Then they'd chatted about work a bit – with each of them summarizing what was currently going on at the job, but D not mentioning London with a single word.

Finally they had both run out of light topics and fallen silent.

It had dragged on for a few minutes by now.

"Seems like we haven't gotten together and had a good chat forever..." D finally said. She sounded apologetic.

"Yeah really." Sarah looked up from her food and nodded. She still wasn't quite sure what to expect here. Just superficial chit-chat? Or maybe the true story of what had happened with Pete Friday night? Some sarcastic comment about how she shouldn't have told Joe about the hidden spare key? A bit of insight of what Joe's breaking into D's place had led to?

Maybe D was just going to steer clear of anything regarding Joe altogether, though. That, of course, would make this meeting extremely awkward and tricky.

Holding Sarah's gaze, D nervously cleared her throat. "You told Joe about the key..." she said quietly but surprisingly matter-of-factly.

"It was either that or he would have kicked in your door," Sarah replied mirroring D's tone.

D let out a weak chuckle. "Thanks," she said slowly. "Thanks for saving my door..."

Looking at her, Sarah decided that she actually did sound kind of grateful. It probably had nothing to do with relief about her front door still being intact, however.

"I was going to come over there myself," Sarah said, "but Joe... well, he was really worried. And he really didn't want me there."

Even though D's gaze remained fixed on her food, Sarah could see her swallow at the mention of Joe being worried. Then she quickly picked up a piece of meat with what seemed to be slightly trembling chopsticks and transported it to her mouth nearly losing it along the way.

Sarah weighed how to proceed for a moment.

"I'm almost scared to ask," she finally said, "but... how did that turn out... I mean - his having the key. He really didn't say much on Sunday, so I hope it didn't –" She broke off, just having decided against spelling out all the bad things she hoped had not happened.

D had stopped chewing and was staring at the remote controls on the coffee table.

"I think I totally screwed up," she said then, her eyes trailing off towards the archway that connected the living room to the kitchen. "I totally, totally screwed up..."

The devastation in her friend's tone made Sarah's stomach knot. Now, she could play dumb and innocently ask what D was referring to, or she could make this at least a bit easier by letting D know that she knew at least the basic facts.

"Joe told me that Pete was supposed to come by..." she said cautiously.

D nodded. Then she weakly shook her head. "That's not what I meant" she said quietly, "Of course, that was a mess as well." With the tips of her chopsticks she absent-mindedly scraped some rice from the side of her bowl. "Pete wanted to pick up his stuff –

"For the fiftieth time..." Sarah concluded.

"Yeah, I know." D glanced up, looking a bit paler than before. "And it was as if everything bad you ever predicted finally came true..."

Sarah frowned.

"You know how that goes!" D said, her tone turning sarcastic. "First he couldn't make it in time in the afternoon, so we had to go out for dinner instead – one last time..." She scoffed. "I have to say that he was at his very best behavior, though. I almost thought, great, he finally got it. He even told me about some colleague he supposedly likes."

She paused and drew in a deep breath. "Well, after dinner he still had to come to my place because his stuff was still there, and he was thinking about taking that stupid bamboo plant that I have almost killed. He actually took it, too. Went to take it to the car and then came back inside to get the rest and say goodbye." She broke off for a moment. "And then...well, then it's finally time for the grand final goodbye scene, and – stupid me – I seriously think it'll be okay, and it'll be over quickly. After all, he just told me about some new flame, right? Well, it wasn't quick or easy," she said drily. "Because the next thing I know, is that he gives me a last goodbye hug and starts crying. And begging and... Shit, it was..." She swallowed. "Well, he decides we should just have some happy breakup-sex against the wall, and he gets right to it."

"Oh crap..." It was out before Sarah could stop herself.

D glanced up at her. "It was just... bizarre. Horrible. I got out of it, but I felt like – I don't know – like a tramp and a heartless monster all at once. I slapped him so hard. I'll never forget that face. And – of course – he didn't take his stuff after all."

"Then throw it out on the street," Sarah blurted out. "This is just... Grrr, I could really kill the guy. Really! Maybe next time he comes by I could be there. I'll give him his stuff – and a piece of my mind..."

D let out a humorless little laugh.

Sarah gave her a questioning look.

"That's kind of what your brother said too - that he wants to be there next time Pete shows up..."

Sarah raised her eyebrows in surprise. So Joe and D had obviously gotten as far as discussing this kind of arrangement in the aftermath of the break-in. Maybe a good sign...

"Well, Joe and Pete meeting on your front steps might actually be real interesting," Sarah said, "I'd even like to be there for that..."

She gave D an encouraging smile.

"It would be a real mess," D said flatly. "Besides, your brother may have changed his mind anyway."

"Meaning?"

D blew out a tense breath. "Did you see him Sunday?"

"Yeah, I saw him in the afternoon," Sarah confirmed cautiously. "He grilled a steak for me when I got home and we ate together."

"Did he... did he say anything?" D asked hesitantly.

"Did he say anything about what?" Sarah pretended to be puzzled when, in reality she was struggling to determine for herself what – if anything – of the exchange she had had with Joe on Sunday could or should be shared with D.

"You didn't ask him where he spent Saturday night?" D asked, seeming surprised.

"No. Why?" It only dawned on Sarah now that this must mean that Joe hadn't spent the night at home. Why else would she be expected to inquire about his whereabouts during the night? The thing was, she hadn't even noticed his absence, of course, because she had spent the night at Jack's. Otherwise she would have definitely asked Joe where he had been. Or just assumed that he had slept on D's sofa again.

Looking at D who had just leaned forward and set her bowl on the coffee table even though her food wasn't even halfway gone, Sarah Sarah decided that this was as good a time as any to tell her friend about Jack...

She cleared her throat. "Ahm...I –" She chuckled nervously. "Now how do I say this? – I actually didn't even know Joe wasn't home Saturday night. Because... ahm... I wasn't home all night myself..."

D had just leaned into the back cushion again, her gaze still on the bowl on the coffee table. Now she looked up and gave Sarah a questioning look. She obviously wasn't quite sure if she was just jumping to conclusions or if there was really something.

"Where were you?" she asked.

Sarah huffed out a little chuckle. "Big secret," she said half-heartedly.

"You can't have any secrets from me," D announced with a mischievous smile. "Not that kind at least. If this is what it sounds like..."

"Yeah, I think that's exactly what it is..." Sarah admitted, lowering her gaze.

"Did you meet someone?" D sounded really excited now.

Sarah weighed her answer. "Technically not," she said then.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That I didn't just meet someone."

"But you spent the night?" she asked confusedly.

"Yeah, but I didn't just meet someone," Sarah repeated. "It's been... it's been there for a while, I guess."

D rolled her eyes. "Could you be any more cryptic? Or is it one of your doctors?"

Sarah laughed. "No." She shook her head. "It's Jack."

D's jaw dropped. "You're kidding?"

"No, not kidding," Sarah shook her head, unable to keep a straight face.

"That's..." For a moment D seemed to be scrambling for a proper classification of what she had just heard. "Jack..." Her tone – and her face – indicated that she was still processing the information. "I had no idea!"

Sarah gave her a crooked smile.

"How come you never said anything?" D asked.

"Well... It...it just developed," Sarah replied with an awkward little shrug. "I mean – it kind of surfaced while you were in London and... well... since then, there really hasn't been any good time to tell you." She paused for a moment. "And you were kind of busy anyway."

A shadow seemed to pass over D's face.

"But now you know," Sarah concluded.

"Yeah." D nodded, a smile spreading across her face. "That's great! I think it's great. Who would have thought..."

Smiling a bit crookedly herself, Sarah shrugged. "Yeah... Anyway, what's up with you now?" She gave D a searching look. "Did Joe spend Saturday night at your place then? On your sofa, of course..."

D shook her head. "No, we...It's actually a bit complicated... "

She nervously ran her hands over her thighs. "We went up the mountain Saturday afternoon –"

"With the cable car?" Sarah looked incredulous.

"Yeah," D nodded. "Was his idea... And you don't need to tell me that his voluntarily taking a cable car is..." She made a grand gesture with her hands. "...exceptional."

Sarah laughed. "Okay, then I won't tell you that. Just as long as you know."

"Yeah, I know that," D said quietly. "Anyway, we stayed at the hotel on the mountain overnight."

"Oh..." Sarah couldn't hide her surprise. "That's good. Or not?"

D had started kneading her hands in her lap. "Well...staying up there really hadn't been the plan initially. We'd just gone up there to get away from all the crap down here, I guess." She swalloed. "I mean - when he showed up in my bedroom that day and... well – when the whole Pete-crap came out... because I told him... I really thought he'd just walk out, slam the door shut and that would be it."

She paused for a moment, looking down on her hands.

"But he was..." She broke off and exhaled. "He was actually really... sweet."

"Yeah. Great." Sarah put her empty bowl on the coffee table. She could only imagine how much Joe would hate for her to know of any of this. It was a bit like going through his most personal things in his absence.

"Don't worry," D interrupted her thoughts, "there won't be any hot details..." She glanced up with the hint of a smile. "Nothing happened anyway. Not in that sense at least..."

Sarah grimaced. "Thanks. Because, to me, that's still my 'little' brother we're talking about..."

"I know. And as his sister you're probably going to want to kill me once I tell you what I did, but maybe as my best friend you could spare my life and help me out with some advice."

"You're scaring me," Sarah said. "What happened, for God's sake?"

Drawing in a quick breath, D lowered her gaze to her hands. "He dropped the L-word," she said, hardly loud enough to hear.

"Oh..." It took Sarah a moment to translate this into what it really meant.

D swallowed. "Yeah." There was a brief pause. "And that's where I really screwed up."

Sarah's eyes widened. "Don't tell me you blew him off!"

Instead of an answer, D just gloomily glared at the remote controls and swallowed hard.

"You did," Sarah concluded drily.

Briefly closing her eyes, D nodded. "I told you, I just totally screwed up." Her voice was cracking.

"Yeah, well, I thought you were referring to screwing up with Pete or something," Sarah scoffed, "but this – this is ... Crap!" She shook her head. "Why would you do that? Why did you even ever start hanging out with him again?" She did sound a bit shrill now.

"I know that I screwed up, okay?"

"Why?" Sarah asked, not making much effort to hide her disapproval.

D shrugged, her gaze returning to her hands in her lap.

"What exactly happened?" Sarah pressed. "Did you think he just said it so you'd –" She swallowed. "– sleep with him? But – I mean – it's not like you didn't... sleep with him before..." Internally she cringed at just touching this issue. Joe would absolutely hate it. "Right?"

"He didn't say it because of... that," D said, equally uncomfortable with discussing this particular aspect. "Let's just say his chances were pretty good before and non-existent afterwards, so..."

Sarah released a tense breath and shook her head.

"I wasn't prepared for it," D muttered defensively. "Not then..."

"O-kay," Sarah was struggling for a non-judgmental tone. "So, what did you say? Exactly?"

D briefly ran a hand over her face. "Something like... that I don't want him to say that..." She looked absolutely miserable now.

"Shit..." Sarah sighed and shook her head as if to clear it. "I'm a bit confused at the moment," she said then, "This is the same guy who used to drive you crazy because the L-word would never ever pass his lips, right?"

Wordlessly, D nodded.

"Same guy, right?" Sarah repeated. "And now he says it and you're like, No Thanks."

"That's not exactly what I said," D muttered, "but yeah. I guess..." She threw out her hands. "I know I screwed up, okay? And I'm sorry if I didn't just melt away. It just... totally caught me by surprise. I surely didn't feel particularly loveable that night. And who knows what would have happened if I had..." she paused for a moment searching for the right words, "... returned the compliment."

Sarah weighed that for a moment. D might actually have a point there – or at least some justified, deep-rooted fear.

"Yeah, I guess you never know with him," she admitted. "So, you told him that you didn't want to hear it, he got angry, you had a fight or what?"

D didn't answer right away. For a moment she just chewed on her lower lip, seeming deep in thought.

"He wasn't happy," she said then. "Said something about how I'm so torn apart. And I guess – yeah – he's probably right. I am torn apart – or, I was that night. Not so much about him, but myself and Pete and... I don't know. Anyway, somehow we ended up digging out the past next."

"Meaning?"

D glanced up, looking undecided. "He told me that he hadn't been in Liz's shower that morning after the party – but I guess you already know that."

"Yeah..."

"He said..." D paused and started over. "Well, he thinks that if I'd been at the dorm that night and let him in, or if Liz hadn't had his phone and told me that shower-story, we would still be in happy-ever-after land." She glanced over at Sarah and checked her expression. "We wouldn't be, though," she announced a little stubbornly. "I mean – it wasn't just Liz that wrecked it all."

Sarah gave a shrug-nod in agreement. "Yeah. Sure. He's definitely not the poor victim that Liz dragged away. Anyway, what exactly was the point of this discussion?"

"There was no specific point," she said with an air of exasperation. "It just – it just developed that way. One thing led to another and I... yeah, I guess I made it pretty clear that it wouldn't have worked because he simply didn't want it to work. It's true. Anyway, before that talk about the past he only thought I was torn apart. After that – judging from the way he acted, he was –" She broke off and exhaled sharply.

"Convinced that you'll never forgive him and you'll never get over it?" Sarah concluded.

Avoiding eye contact, D nodded gloomily. "Something like that. Yeah."

Sarah had started to feel really angry. At her friend over there. And at her brother too...

Knowing how his brain worked sometimes, and knowing that he was in Amsterdam now, close to a woman that might have already once comforted him over some girlfriend trouble, she was actually starting to feel a little sick here.

"Okay." She cleared her throat. "I guess I just need to ask this, D. No offense, okay? I am trying to help. But do you actually think it could work? I mean – you and him? Realistically? Because if you don't, then there really is no point in –"

"I'm not playing with him, if that's what you think..." D interrupted. "It actually felt... really... great..."

"Okay." Sarah nodded. "I guess, coming from you and in this context this means he's got you right where he had you years ago..."

Biting down on her lower lip, D shrugged.

"But he doesn't know that," Sarah noted.

"Guess not," D confirmed. "And now he's on his business trip, and I think I'm actually starting to lose my mind here. But I can't fix this over the phone. Given the way he acted when I last saw him, I'm not even sure he'd pick up if I called him." She blew out a tense breath "The timing's so crappy!"

"Yep," Sarah nodded. "Your timing's really pretty crappy." She was struggling for a teasing tone here, but with Christine back on her mind now, she was having a really hard time. She told herself that all her theories about Christine were pure speculation. Still, she couldn't get rid of the feeling that there was something.

"What did he say exactly?" Sarah asked. She needed to judge for herself. "After... after you had that great, destructive talk?"

"Not much," D said. "He made some small talk, but all in all it was like when you pull the shutters down. Really reserved..."

Sarah rubbed the back of her nose, recalling Joe's mood Sunday afternoon. It all made sense now. And she couldn't even blame him, if after all this, he would rather have a nice uncomplicated rendezvous with Christine...

Christine. Christine. Christine.

"We didn't really talk much afterwards," D said, "And I thought, well I'll just let him be and maybe tomorrow we can work it out. Bu then he drives me home and just as I get out he's like 'Oh, by the way, I'm leaving tomorrow. And then I'll be at the office in Munich for almost two weeks once I get back from Amsterdam."

"Amsterdam, yeah..." Sarah nodded, hoping that all the things that were going through her head right now didn't show in her expression.

"I was kind of speechless," D admitted, "but I guess I might have still sarcastically wished him a nice trip..."

Sarah coughed. "Man, you two..."

D uncomfortably shifted in her seat. "Yeah. I know."

There was a moment of silence, with Sarah's thoughts still circling around Christine.

"He's not staying with her, is he?" D suddenly asked.

It made Sarah's head snap up and she almost blurted out that, as far as she knew, Joe was staying at some hotel close to the Van Gogh museum and he was only meeting Christine for dinner. But then she realized just in time that D was actually talking about Liz and Munich.

"No, as far as I know, he's staying at his office. He said, he's all set up for that..." She let out a dark little chuckle. "Just from that you can kind of imagine how bad this thing with Liz must have been..."

D tensely ran a hand over the armrest to her right. "I already know that..."

There was another long moment of silence.

Sarah was starting to feel as if she was on pins and needles.

Christine, Christine, Christine.

Still not sure how to handle this, she straightened up and cleared her throat.

It made D look up.

"Okay," Sarah said firmly, "If you're back in love with him – and I think that's what this is – you should really get in touch with him." She was trying hard not to let the urgency that she felt creep into her tone. "You need to talk to him. Soon. If he doesn't pick up his phone, send him a text message or an e-mail. You may not be able to fix it, but you have to give it a shot. Straighten some things out at least. Even if he comes back this weekend, don't wait until then. Get in touch with him. Tell him anything. Just give him something to work with!"

D swallowed. Then she slowly nodded.

"Just give it a shot, D," Sarah said, pulling her mouth into an encouraging smile, "It'll be fine."

She could only hope that D's call didn't come too late – or at a time when Joe might be distracted by a naked girl sharing his hotel bed.

# Dinner with Christine

(Tuesday, September 3rd)

When Joe arrived at the restaurant, it was almost eight o'clock.

Christine was sitting at one of the tables in the very back, looking a little bored. When she saw him, her face lit up and she waved.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," Joe said as he pulled out the chair across from her. "I guess we should have just postponed it. I didn't know it was going to take that long."

"It's fine," she assured him. "Don't worry it." She pushed her menu over to him. "You look tired, though."

"I'll be fine once I get something to eat," he said and opened the menu. He couldn't deny that her sympathetic tone and just her presence as such was extremely comforting and touching.

"You probably already know what you're having, huh?" He glanced up at her. "Since you had forever to think about it."

Christine laughed. "I've changed my mind about four times already, but at the moment I think I'll have the salmon."

Joe closed the menu. "That sounds perfect," he said, "I'll have that too."

The waiter came and took their order.

"It's really good to see you," Christine said when they were alone again.

"Likewise," he smiled, uncomfortably aware that he was suddenly having serious trouble keeping some images of their last very close encounter confined to the back of his mind.

"You look good," he said, "I mean – you looked good last time too, just happier this time."

Christine laughed. "I am. I'm actually doing well. It took a while, but now I'm fine. I'm working a little more than I probably should, but I'm also trying some new stuff in my free time – yoga, painting..." Her blue eyes had locked with his.

"That's good," Joe said reflexively, unable to suppress the distinct memory of how those eyes had nervously blinked when he had started to pull her shirt over her head last time – right after he had kissed her.

Oblivious to what was going on in his head, Christine nodded. Then she grinned. "It's actually kind of nice," she said, and Joe had some trouble reconnecting to what they were talking about. "I'm currently just doing whatever I want, whenever I please..."

Joe nodded and quickly directed his gaze at the waiter that had just arrived with the beverages. Maybe it was only his very troubled mind, but he couldn't help thinking that – without the waiter's arrival – Christine's last comment might have ended in 'and with whoever I choose'.

Feeling a little obsessed, Joe swallowed. Then he quickly grabbed his beer, gave Christine a non-committal smile and took a swig.

"Peer picked up his stuff a week ago," she told him. "I made sure I wasn't home, so I didn't have to see him. Seemed better that way."

Joe nodded. What if they did another round of NSA activities tonight? Some recreational sex to get over the unpleasant aftertaste of his recent flight simulation experiences?

"We don't talk and we don't try to be friends," Christine continued her report. "And I'm doing fine. A few lows here and there but not too bad. Have you actually ever heard from him?"

Joe shook his head. "No, I haven't. I thought about sending him a short e-mail, but then I didn't really know what to say. Because I pretty much would have had to mention that I met with you and that you told me..."

She let out a little laugh. When she saw Joe's confused face, she chuckled. "Sorry, but I was just imagining how you'd actually tell him that we met and then maybe close with a discrete hint at how we ended that evening." She laughed again, obviously finding the idea quite delightful.

The arrival of their food saved Joe from the hard task of deciding how to react to what she had just said.

Two plates, both with a nice-looking piece of salmon along with some rice and grilled vegetables on the side were placed in front of them.

For a while they just ate.

"How about you?" Christine picked up the conversation again. "How have you been doing?"

He shrugged, his eyes only briefly meeting hers before quickly returning to his plate. "I've had some gruesome telephone conversations and encounters with Liz right after I was here," he said.

"Oh," Christine was eyeing him cautiously. "What did she have to say?"

"Oh, this and that," he said lightly as if this was actually funny. "She kind of thought she wants me back, so she claimed that she was pregnant. Then, when that didn't work, she decided that she wasn't pregnant after all – that kind of thing. Oh, and she came to Innsbruck, took my car for a drive without my knowing it and wrecked the front of it just to make a point..." He shrugged with forced indifference. "It was a bit of a mess..." He stabbed a piece of zucchini with his fork and shot Christine a quick glance.

"Sounds like quite a mess," she confirmed with audible concern.

"Seems like she's calmed down a bit now, though," Joe said and took another bite. "At least I hope so. I picked up a few things from the apartment while she wasn't home. That pissed her off, of course, but other than that..." He exhaled and reached for his glass to have a sip. "Oh, and while I was in the flat I found some evidence that she's still screwing her boss's husband. So, I guess, she hasn't changed at all..."

Christine stopped chewing and blinked, obviously uncomfortable with so much detail.

"Sorry," Joe said, "Sometimes I overdo it a bit – acting as if I don't care... Male pride, you know..."

Christine shook her head. "Doesn't have anything to do with male pride," she said. "Things like that just hurt."

"Well, it shouldn't," Joe said, his gaze returning to his food. "I don't even love her. Maybe never have." He laughed without humor. "Well, as you can see, I have had some time to figure things out lately. Some of it I really don't like."

"Are you still staying at your sister's? In Innsbruck?" She asked.

He nodded. "Mhmm."

"How's that working out?"

"Good," he said. "Fine. Big enough house. But this week and next I'll be covering for Steve – that's my business partner. That way I'll give my sister a little break."

"Where are you staying while you're in Munich?" Christine asked.

"I'll just be sleeping in my office."

Christine frowned. "In your office?"

"Shower's down the hall, office is perfectly set up for overnight stays..." he grinned. "Could have stayed at Steve's house but – and maybe I never mentioned that – Steve's Liz's brother."

Christine's expression turned puzzled. "Oh," she said. "That sounds tricky..." She paused for a moment as if to give him a chance to elaborate if he wanted to. When he just gave her a shrug and an awkward smile, she changed the topic. "How did that meeting with your old friends go, by the way? Last time I saw you, you mentioned some get-together you were going to attend..."

Playing with his glass now, Joe nodded. "Was nice, yeah..." he said vaguely.

"Didn't go as well as you hoped, huh?" Christine diagnosed.

"No, that's not it," he said evasively, his eyes on the base of his glass. "Went great. Was good to see them all. Only that – well, one of these friends is my ex – my ex-ex, to be precise – and my sister's best friend on top of that."

Christine raised her eyebrows. "You really seem to have a very complicated life, if I may say so. Liz is your business partner's sister; your sister is your ex-ex's best friend..." She laughed sympathetically. "And the ex-ex still hates you, I assume?"

Briefly glancing up, Joe scratched his head, trying to decide how far into this he really wanted to get.

"Well, actually..." he said slowly, "at first it seemed like she did hate me, of course, but – surprisingly – eventually we did get closer." Staring at his plate now, he paused and rubbed his chin. "We got pretty close actually."

"Oh..." Christine seemed taken aback.

Joe took a quick swig from his glass.

"It didn't work, though," he said flatly as he set the glass back on the table. "There's just too much crap from the past. I guess you can never get past that..."

"What kind of crap are we talking about?" Her tone indicated that she had a general idea but didn't want to jump to conclusions.

"We were supposed to go on a student exchange year together during the last year at the university, but then I started messing around with Liz and she walked in on us."

Christine blinked.

He laughed. "And there you thought I was a nice guy..."

She laughed too, even if a bit forced. She met his eyes. "Well, some people learn from their mistakes."

He coughed. "Are you referring to me or her?"

"You."

"Even if I did learn something – and I learned a lot, believe me – it's definitely too little too late. Isn't that what they say?" He pushed his silverware to the side of the plate, downed the rest of his beer and leaned back in his chair. "I don't think romantic reruns can work. It's too bad in this case, but –" He shrugged.

"Romantic reruns?" Christine chuckled. "Good way of putting it." She turned serious. "I know what you mean, though. And I agree that it's tricky and sometimes just prone to fail. I've tried it once." She scooped up the last bite of salmon. "There was this guy I knew from school." She chewed for a while, her expression a little absent, maybe melancholic. "I was seventeen when we got together. Totally crazy about him, naïve, immature... And I was so sure we were meant for each other; that nothing could be more perfect." She huffed out a breath. "He dumped me after four months, then he suddenly quit school and went abroad with a woman that was ten years older than him – from Australia or something. I thought I'd die." She laughed. It sounded a bit sad. "I didn't die, of course. By now I even know that this kind of stuff doesn't kill me." She smiled. "A year and a half later he showed up again and – well – wanted another try... Pretty soon we were back together – head over heels. I didn't know what had hit me. Didn't work out, though." She dropped her gaze. "I couldn't bring myself to trust him again. But he actually was a real jerk." She glanced up at Joe and the corners of her mouth curled up in a shy smile. "You don't seem like that much of a jerk. I still think you're pretty nice."

~~~

D had left Sarah's place and had driven about half of the way home, when she decided to pull into a parking lot.

To call Joe.

Here and now.

Because right this moment she totally agreed with Sarah that she needed to give him something to work with. She better not postpone the call until later when her fear of how wrong this conversation could go, might outweigh everything else. She knew herself well enough. The longer she waited, the harder it would get.

Of course there always was a chance that he wouldn't pick up. He might not be back in his hotel yet, might still be out with business partners...

Still, she needed to just give it a try. Now. Before her over-anxious brain could work itself into a knot again. And she needed to do it right here, because in this dark, empty parking lot she would probably be able to concentrate much better than in her apartment.

She turned off the engine, released her seat-belt, took out her phone and drew in a deep breath. With her thumb she scrolled through the contact list down to Joe's name. Her throat felt really tight when she pressed call.

The phone against her ear, she started counting the rings. By the time it rang for the fourth time, her pulse was so loud in her own ears that it was almost overpowering the ringing. The ringing seemed to be coming from far away. But it kept ringing. Five, six...

Her hand that was holding the phone was getting increasingly unsteady. Seven, eight...

And then it kicked into voice mail. "Hi, you've reached..."

She hung up.

After taking a few deep breaths, she started the car to drive home.

# Massage

(Tuesday, September 3rd)

"What's wrong with your neck?" Christine asked with a concerned look over.

The waiter had just taken away the plates; they had asked for the bill and Joe had, for the second time this evening, placed his right hand around the back of his neck, applying some pressure with his fingers and gingerly moving his head from side to side with a strained expression.

"I don't know," he said leaning his head back again, his hand firmly around his neck. "I must have pinched a nerve or something. It's been driving me nuts all day."

"You need a massage," Christine diagnosed.

He laughed. "Yeah, I wish..."

"Well, if you want, I actually know how to do it," she offered.

Joe raised his eyebrows. "I thought you were a pediatrician."

"I'm a child psychologist, technically," she corrected, "but I took some courses for medicinal massages on the side. For fun – and for Peer..."

"Medicinal, huh?" Despite the pain in his neck that seemed to have gotten worse in the course of the dinner Joe was having serious trouble getting certain images out of his head here. Massages usually included taking off clothes and touching...

Christine laughed. "Yep, purely medicinal..." There seemed to be a slightly flirtatious tone to the way she said it, but Joe wasn't sure how much of it was just in his imagination.

"Why don't you come back to my place afterwards?" Christine suggested. "You can see what I've done to the flat since Peer moved out, we can have some wine or ice cream or both – and if you want, you can try that massage."

~~~

D had arrived home, feeling on the edge. She was trying to tell herself that Joe was probably just out with some people and hadn't heard the phone or had decided it wasn't a good time to pick up. Maybe he'd call her back. But then again, maybe he wouldn't.

If he was determined to play this like when she'd been in London, she still had at least three agonizing days in front of her. She could only hope it wouldn't come to that. Because with even Sarah insisting that she shouldn't wait until he came back...

She felt a lump build up in her throat as that part of her conversation with Sarah replayed in her head. She couldn't help suspecting that Sarah knew a little more than she let on. Maybe Joe had told her that he was finally sick of it...

~~~

Christine's place was a twenty-minute walk from the restaurant.

As they walked, Christine was talking about some furniture she had ordered to replace the things that Peer had taken, and how the store had screwed up on the order. Two pieces had to be sent back and wouldn't be delivered for another three weeks.

Even though Joe made sure he threw in comments such as Oh, really?, That's bad.... or just a sympathetic nod every once in a while, he was finding it hard to keep up with the conversation.

His mind was buzzing with something else: Before they had left the restaurant, Christine had gone and used the bathroom. Alone at the table, he had quickly pulled out his phone to check if there were any new e-mails – especially any from R&D's customer in Florence. There hadn't been any e-mails from Luca. But there had been a missed call from Danny. He hadn't expected to hear from her. It had totally thrown him off. And he was still wracking his brain now – not only about what she could want, but also if he could carry on with his evening as planned – regardless. He was on his way home with Christine – for wine and a massage and whatever that might lead to.

~~~

D had spontaneously decided to do some filing.

The stack of paperwork such as credit card statements, telephone bills, information from the energy company that she collected in the spare room and filed every once in a while had grown extensive enough to make it worth it. And she really needed something to occupy herself with. Preferably something brainless.

She was sitting cross-legged on the carpet in the living room, the stack of unsorted paperwork on her lap and four big file folders and a hole punch arranged around her. One by one she took the pages from her lap, scanned them for content, punched holes in them and put them on top of the respective folder to file once everything was sorted.

~~~

"Looks nice," Joe said truthfully as he followed Christine into her living room. "I like what you've done."

The flat had changed considerably. It had always seemed a little crowded and dark, but with less furniture now along with new, brighter curtains and some other new things – such as a nice, comfortable-looking beige sofa with some funny cushions – it looked like an entirely different place. A nice, cozy and inviting place.

"Have a seat," Christine ushered him towards the sofa. "What would you like? Wine or ice cream or both. Actually, I think the ice cream is a sorbet in reality. Lemon or Raspberry or both."

Not being a big fan of sorbets, Joe opted for the wine – even though there was a good chance it would affect his good judgment later on. He was willing to risk it, however. He had decided to just relax and see what the rest of this evening might bring. There was no reason not to. He actually liked Christine. He wasn't in love with her of course – at least not yet. But if he decided to accept Jan's offer and lived here... Who knew?

"Red wine okay?" Christine asked with a smile over her shoulder while taking some glasses out of a cabinet.

"Sure, sounds great."

~~~

D had gone through about two thirds of her paperwork and was just punching holes in a credit card statement when she could hear her phone ringing from the living room.

She dropped her hole punch and the page she had been punching, moved the remaining pile of paperwork from her lap to the floor and jumped up.

On her way out of the room, she almost tripped over one of the file folders.

~~~

So they had wine...

And talked.

About their families.

About their jobs.

About their last relationship.

Finally Christine set her empty glass on the table and rubbed her hands over her thighs. "Do you want more wine?" she asked.

"No, thanks," Joe shook his head and immediately grimaced involuntarily as the pain in his neck was triggered once again.

"Oh, I almost forgot about the massage..." Christine said. "Why didn't you say anything?"

He shrugged with a little smirk. "Scared, I guess – of what you might do to me."

~~~

The phone to her ear, D ground her teeth. The call had turned out to be from Pete, and she had unfortunately picked up before she could stop herself.

"I'm staying with some friends just outside Innsbruck this coming weekend," Pete told her very matter-of-factly. "And since I still need to get my stuff from you..."

D had to bite her tongue so she wouldn't lash out at this. He made it sound as if it was her fault.

"If I may," he continued, over-politely, "I'd come by your place on my way into town Friday afternoon. Maybe around four?"

"Well, if I'm not home I can always leave your stuff outside the door and you can get it there, right?" D said evasively. It seemed like a good solution to simply not be there for his visit.

"Man, Danielle," Pete sighed. "Some of that stuff's kind of expensive. Can't you just be there. We can set a time. Just tell me when it's convenient for you..."

Clenching her free hand to a fist, D thought about this for a moment. She was seriously considering telling him that No, she had plans already. What stopped her was that she suddenly remembered seeing his alarm clock – the one that lay in one of the bags with his other stuff – advertised in the Lufthansa miles&more catalogue as a 'designer alarm clock' for € 250. And it wasn't just the alarm clock. The bags also contained, amongst other things, at least two spendy ties, a silk scarf, D&G slacks, a pair of expensive shoes and his fancy shaving kit. As much as she wanted to, she realized that she couldn't just leave these things out on the front steps and risk that the neighbors' Yorkshire terrier ripped them apart or peed on them.

"Okay," she said a bit snappily. "Then come Friday afternoon between four and five. I'll be here, I'll meet you outside, I'll give you your stuff." She drew in a sharp breath. "But that's it then, Pete. I really mean it!"

Pete let out a bitter little laugh. "Thank you!" he drawled. "I get it!"

D coughed. "Well, excuse me! But after what happened last time, I'm not going to play any coming-in-for-a-minute or let's-chat-over-coffee games anymore and get myself into another situation where..." She broke off and let him come up with his own ending. After a short pause she added quietly, "And I don't think being friends will work either."

Pete scoffed. "Whatever! We've only been together for two years, but well. We don't even have to greet each other when we meet on the street." His tone had turned very testy. "Should I just call you at the turnoff from the Autobahn on Friday, so you can put the stuff out on the front steps and lock the door again before I show up?"

D swallowed. "I didn't say that," she said uncomfortably. "You can come by, I'll give you your stuff, but anything beyond that..."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever..."

~~~

Christine was good. The massage felt awesome. Even if, so far, it was purely medicinal – and painful – at times. ("Wow, you're really tense...")

As her hands moved over his back, up towards his neck, putting some more pressure here and there to loosen things up, Joe was starting to notice not only a definite improvement, but also a certain relaxation. The wine might have something to do with it too. And the lemongrass smell of the oil she was using. And that touch, of course...

Once they had agreed that he'd just have to try the massage, Christine had brought a big towel from the bathroom, commanded him to take off his shirt, spread the towel on that big sofa and made him lie down, face down, a small, rolled-up towel to rest his forehead on. Then she had knelt down on the floor beside him and gotten to work.

~~~

There was a short moment of silence in the line, Pete obviously still not ready to hang up.

"Is there someone else?" he suddenly asked, his tone indicating that this had just occurred to him.

It took D a moment to react, as the question had been unexpected.

"Does it make a difference?" she grumbled.

"So there is?" Pete asked skeptically.

Somehow his skepticism rubbed her the wrong way.

"I met someone else, yeah," she finally said matter-of-factly. At this point it could only help her.

Total silence on the other end.

"Just between last Friday and now?" Pete mocked.

"No, already before that, but that's–"

"Wait! Did you actually break up because there was already someone new on the radar?"

"No. No one was on the radar then," D retorted with open irritation. "Can we stop this now?"

"You're just saying this, so that I–"

"Think what you want," D cut him off, "I won't say any more. I'll actually hang up now. See you Friday."

And she hung up.

~~~

"Tell me if it hurts too much," Christine said as she dug her thumbs into a spot above his right shoulder blade.

"No, that's fine. Just torture me," Joe mumbled.

He heard her chuckle and the pressure increased.

"Any better?" she asked after a while, her hands now firmly running from his shoulder blades inwards.

"Mhmm." He lifted his head and turned it a little, so he could shoot her a glance and assess his condition at the same time. "Seems like it's better," he said turning his head back and forth a bit. "Otherwise I couldn't do this. Definitely haven't been able to move my head this far all afternoon." He put his forehead back on the rolled-up towel. "Feel free to do something less torturous as a finishing touch, though."

Christine laughed. "Sure..." And he could feel her hands move down to his lower back, her touch much lighter now. Her fingers sprawled, she ran the hands up again – all the way up to his shoulders, and then - thumbs tracing his spine – down again. She did this a few more times, each time more slowly and more softly until, finally, her touch was a gentle stroking.

Skilled, soft palms over sensitive skin.

As she reached his shoulders again now, Joe could clearly sense the effects of that touch all over. It made him feel weird and warm – and somehow guilty. He didn't want to feel guilty, though! For what? For spending an evening with a good friend? Someone that was nice and fun and understanding, had a great touch and – so much more...

He slowly lifted his head and turned it, his eyes meeting Christine's. Then he reached back, his hand sliding against Christine's face back to where his fingers were in her hair. She bit her lip. And he pulled her closer. For a first brushing of soft lips against lips...

The cell-phone vibrating on the glass table put an abrupt end to this.

Christine pulled away and glanced over her shoulder. "It's yours," she said shakily. "Says Danny..."

Huffing out a tense breath, Joe pressed his face into the rolled-up towel and slammed a fist into the seat cushion of the sofa. "Shit!"

The phone kept vibrating on the table but he didn't move. When it finally stopped, he released an unwilling growl, his face still in the towel.

"Joe..." Christine gently touched his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

After a while he turned on his side, exhaled sharply and then pushed himself into a sitting position. Careful not to lean back and get the sofa all oily, he remained seated on the front edge of the sofa for a moment and glared at his knees. Finally he forced himself to look at Christine again. She was still kneeling next to him.

"I'm sorry!" he said.

Christine blinked, a weak smile spreading across her face. "For what?" she asked softly. "For freezing up during the best part of my massage?"

Too embarrassed to look at her any longer, he dropped his head and shook it.

"Is that her then?" Christine asked. "The ex-ex you thought things didn't work out with?"

His eyes still on the floor, Joe nodded. "It didn't work out..." he insisted while running a hand over his face. Then he straightened up. "And I have no idea why she'd still call me."

"I guess you need to find out," Christine said and handed him the phone.

He met her eyes for a moment, then he shrugged and took the phone.

"If she calls you at this time of night," Christine said and got to her feet, "you can't just ignore it." She gave his shoulder a quick rub. "Call her back. Come on..."

Nodding grimly, Joe reached for his shirt that was hanging over the back of the sofa.

"The oil is really going to mess up your shirt..." Christine warned.

He pulled it on nevertheless. "You must think I'm a total jerk..." he muttered as he got up from the sofa, buttoning his shirt.

Christine shook her head. "Nothing happened, okay?"

"Yeah, well, maybe not quite yet," he said flatly.

There was a short pause, then he cleared his throat. "Is there anywhere I can..."

"Here, you can go into my bedroom," Christine had stepped around him and was heading towards the closed door in the back. "It's either that or the bathroom." She laughed. "That's the only two rooms with doors."

She opened the bedroom door for him.

"Thanks," he said and stepped inside. "I'm really sorry Christine..."

"It's fine," she said with a little smile that looked a bit sad. "Don't worry about it. This wouldn't have been such a good idea anyway. Because, honestly, the more I get to know you, the more I like you. And that's probably dangerous. I'm actually a bit jealous right now."

Nodding, Joe reached out and stroked her cheek. "You're great!"

She mouthed 'Thanks' and closed the bedroom door behind him.

~~~

D was sitting in the big chair in her living room, the cool display of her phone pressed against her forehead and a big lump in her throat.

She didn't even know why she had done it, but after the annoying conversation with Pete had ended, she had felt as if she really needed to try and call Joe again.

He hadn't picked up.

Again.

And she realized that he might continue to be impossible to reach until the next weekend. It made her feel sick to the stomach.

# The Guy in the Mirror

(Tuesday, September 3rd)

Sitting on the chair beside Christine's bed, Joe glared at himself in the full-length mirror across the room. If he looked closely enough, he could probably make out the greasy spots on his shoulders where Christine's hands had applied the massage oil just a few minutes ago.

He shot himself another disgusted look and then turned away. This was just sick!

He initiated a return call and, releasing a tense breath, put the phone against his ear.

It only rang once.

"Hi..." She sounded shaky. "Thanks for calling back."

Biting down on his lower lip, Joe tried to ignore what just hearing her voice did to him. He didn't want that!

"I wasn't fast enough earlier," he said flatly.

"Is this a bad time?" she asked hesitantly. "You're not back in the hotel yet, are you?"

"I'm with some friends," he told her vaguely. It wasn't even a lie. But it sure felt like one, because he was technically at the place of just one friend who happened to be the woman he had slept with the last time he'd been in Amsterdam. And he had – until three minutes ago – been on his best way to do it again...

"Oh, okay..." She sounded a bit helpless. "Do you... do you wanna just call me back later – when you're at the hotel."

Joe weighed this for a moment. "No," he finally said. "It's okay. I'm in a different room now." Technically, he was sitting in his friend's bedroom of course – beside the very bed in which he might have ended up spending the night. Or he still might...

"Okay..." On the other end D was scrambling for words. "So... can we talk?"

"I can talk," he said a little impatiently. "But I'm not really sure what about. And then there's always the risk that I might say something you don't want to hear..."

In the silence that followed, he thought he could hear her swallow.

He gave himself a hard look through the mirror. What the hell was he doing? If he didn't want to talk to her, he could just tell her. No need to be such an asshole! Especially when it didn't even make him feel any better. And he was almost sure that it must make her feel like crap.

"I... I'm sorry," D mumbled.

"About what?" he asked as if he had no clue what she could possibly be talking about.

As a reaction, she seemed to stop breathing for a moment, and Joe felt a sudden flash of panic that she might hang up. He actually deserved it. He was starting to really hate the guy in the mirror.

Instead of hanging up, D cleared her throat. "I'm sorry about what I said on the mountain," she said surprisingly loud and clear.

Joe closed his eyes. He didn't want to go there, did he? He didn't want to hear about it. He only wanted this to be over!

"Nothing to be sorry for," he announced scathingly. "So, if that's all –"

"There was no autopilot in any of it," she interrupted shakily. "There really wasn't, and you... I thought you'd know."

Despite his determination not to let any of this get to him, Joe could feel his stomach twist at the hurt in her voice. His recently-developed grand theory that it had all just happened on autopilot or possibly even in flight simulation, was going up in smoke here. It had felt like flying and it had been flying. But still...

"I wasn't prepared for –" She broke off and cleared her throat again. "I wasn't prepared for what you said."

"I wouldn't have guessed," he mocked, struggling to stay afloat and not get washed away by some wave of pink, fluffy emotions.

"Joe, I –"

"Just forget about it, okay?" he said warily. "I wasn't prepared for it either. It just came out. Don't ask me why. Just forget about it!"

"But –"

"Danny, listen..." He drew in an audible breath, his free hand pushing through his hair. "I'm here at some friends'. I really can't – and I don't want to do this over the phone."

D let out a dry laugh. "Well, neither do I, but since you'll be gone until the weekend – or even longer. How else am I supposed to –?"

"I'm not even sure I want to have this conversation at all," he clarified. "Why don't we just say we had a nice enough chat at the mountain. Okay? We dissected the entire, horrible past. Found plenty of proof that I've been a real asshole. So... I don't think there's a whole lot to add. Some things just don't work out. We make mistakes, we pay for them, maybe we learn..." As he said it, he was, again, bracing himself for her hanging up as a consequence.

To his surprise he just heard her draw in a long breath, however. "I wish we didn't have to do this over the phone," she said, sounding drained, "I –" Her voice cracked. "Crap... I wish you were here."

At hearing her say this, Joe couldn't help picturing her just barely holding it together – even though he really tried not to picture it. Shit! This was just what he needed!

He sucked in a tense breath, trying hard not to let this get to him. But of course it already had. So much in fact, that it almost hurt.

It was totally quiet in the line now. Just once, he thought he could hear her swallow.

"Well – I'll be back in Innsbruck for the weekend," he finally said, his tone a little softer now.

There was a weak scoff from her end. "And until then we just –" She broke off as if she didn't see any sense in finishing her sentence.

"Danny, listen–" Joe started half-heartedly, even though he had no idea what else to tell her at the moment.

"Pete wants to pick up his stuff on Friday evening," she interrupted him with a voice that was both shaky and stubborn. "But I can handle it."

A sarcastic cough had escaped Joe's throat before he could stop himself. His eyes had darted up to the guy in the mirror, who was staring back, his expression hard.

"Great then," he grumbled. "Why are you even telling me?"

"I can handle it," she repeated defiantly. "I told him he can't come in and that I'll just give him his stuff. Unfortunately I can't just throw it out on the sidewalk and take off because some of his stuff is...valuable..." The last word had come out as if she was mocking Pete.

Closing his eyes, Joe balled his free hand to a fist. There was a lot he wanted to say – or yell, to be precise – but maybe he should just keep his mouth shut.

"I thought I need to at least tell you," D mumbled, obviously having some trouble now keeping her voice steady. "Since, at one point you said you wanted to be there when he..."

"Yeah, and you almost bit my head off for it," Joe retorted.

Tense silence again.

"Well, and since you can handle it," he said then, "Why don't you. Hopefully you handle it better than last time."

"Okay. Thanks," she said stiffly. "Then have a nice evening!"

Shooting his reflection a devastated look, Joe realized that this was it. Now he finally had her to the point where she was going to hang up on him. His own damn fault!

"Even if I wanted to," he said, following some gut feeling, "I couldn't make it." He paused, surprised that she hadn't hung up yet. "I've got a guy from Italy coming by the office in the late afternoon on Friday." His tone was a bit softer now. "I'll probably have to take him out for dinner, then I've still got to drive to Innsbruck. There's no way I'll get there before eleven. So..."

There was a long pause.

"What if I told him he can't come until Saturday late morning?" D asked hardly loud enough to hear.

He pondered it for a moment. Then he drew in a deep breath. "Well – if he comes then, and if you want me to, I'll come over."

There was no immediate response from her. At least nothing verbal. He could have sworn he had heard her swallow hard, though.

"Try to postpone it," he said conciliatorily. "And then send me a text message and let me know."

"Okay," she said croakily. "Thanks."

"Mhmm."

"Bye."

"Bye."

~~~

As Joe returned to the living room, Christine was sitting on the sofa, looking up at him.

"I don't even know what to say," he told her with a frustrated shake of his head. "First I mess around with you, and then I can't even make this call without first putting my shirt on..."

"Nothing happened," Christine insisted. "There was no messing around."

"Yeah, whatever, but without this call..." He shrugged weakly.

Christine cocked her head to the side and smiled. "Some things in life are fate, so, maybe this call was."

He let out a weak chuckle and walked across the living room. "That's a very nice and generous way of seeing it," he said as he leaned his hip against the side of the sofa. "I'd understand if you were pissed, though."

Christine laughed. "I'm not pissed. Really." She paused for a moment and gave him a concerned look. "Do you feel any better? After talking to her?"

Absently running his hand over the fabric of the sofa, Joe shrugged. "I don't know." He dropped his gaze to the floor. "I don't really think so..."

"You don't wanna talk to a child psychologist about it, do you?" Christine asked with a little wink.

Joe glanced up and considered it.

Then he nodded. "Yeah, why not..."

# Child Psychology

(Tuesday, September 3rd)

"So, that's it in a nutshell," Joe said and released a long breath. He crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back in his chair, his eyes on Christine.

She had listened without interrupting – her expression remaining serious and unreadable (probably her professional face) throughout the entire ten minutes it had taken him to summarize what he considered important.

He had tried to be objective.

He had told Christine how Danny and he had met; he had mentioned his first bout of cold feet; he had been brutally frank about his cheating with Liz for all the wrong reasons. Finally he had tried to describe what had been going on since the grill party a few weeks ago – including the emotionally confusing telephone conversation Danny and he had just had.

"Okay," Christine exhaled with a little nod. "Let's see..."

Chewing on his lower lip, he waited. He couldn't remember ever having been so frank with anyone. In a way, he already kind of regretted it. He doubted that his detailed account would lead Christine to tell him anything that he didn't already know anyway.

To his surprise Christine suddenly chuckled. "It's kind of nice to see that you're not always so in control and laid back."

"Who said I was?" he asked with some bafflement.

"No one. I just thought you were."

"Well, I'm not," he said flatly. "Not by far."

Christine smiled. "Okay. I guess I don't have to tell you that you – well – you overreacted a bit."

"Like – when?" he asked. "On the phone?"

"No," Christine shook her head. "I'm talking about when she told you that she didn't want you to say you love her."

His jaw dropped a bit. "I overreacted?" he coughed. "How would you react?"

"I don't know, but the autopilot thing was a bit cruel."

He dropped his gaze. "Okay. Maybe that part..." He shrugged. "But –"

"You really think she doesn't return your feelings?" Christine gave him a firm look.

He shrugged again. "I have no idea. There's some attraction, I guess. But... I don't think we'll ever get past the crap and the screw-ups from three years or four ago. Maybe she'd even like to. I mean – part of her at least. But – shit, she's so torn apart. You should see her!" He paused for a moment. "I can't imagine she'll ever trust me again. And maybe she's well-advised there anyway."

Christine let out a sympathetic little laugh. "Okay, now. Don't be quite so hard on yourself."

"Well, it's true," he insisted a little stubbornly.

"I don't agree," Christine contradicted. "And, by the way, I do think you need to finally stop feeling guilty for what happened over three years ago. That's long over. Even if you two had gone to London together, I don't think it would have lasted. You weren't ready and maybe she wasn't either."

Joe thought about this for a moment. Then he looked up. "Maybe so," he said slowly, "but that makes my throwing myself into a relationship with Liz – moving in together included – all the more crazy. Don't you think?"

"I'm not sure," Christine said, pondering it.

"Both my sister and Danny keep pointing that out to me," Joe explained. "And I don't have much to hold against it. It goes like this," and he changed his tone to sound like D or Sarah. "You lived with that bitch for how long? I don't get that..."

He switched to his normal voice again. "And I don't get it either, really. I mean – I realized pretty quickly that I wasn't happy with Liz. The only reason why I let it drag on so long was that I didn't want to deal with the mess of a breakup." He paused for a moment and pushed his hands through his hair. "I have no idea why, when it came to Liz, I didn't have any of the reservations and precautions that I used to have with anyone else – including Danny. It's just absurd..."

"Well, maybe not that absurd," Christine contemplated. "I kind of think that, after the thing with Danny fell apart, you were – even if just subconsciously – looking for a justification for messing it up like that. And it clearly was your fault. Still, maybe you were trying to prove to yourself that you'd only done it for this great thing with Liz and that you don't have any problem with commitment."

His eyes trailing over to the plant beside the sofa, Joe considered this.

"Hadn't it been Liz," Christine went on, "who knows, maybe it would have even worked out and you'd be happily married with two kids by now."

Joe grimaced.

"Sorry... I guess not," Christine laughed. Then she turned serious again. "I need to ask you something else, though. Regarding Danny."

"Okay." He gave her a guarded look.

"In the past," she started,"when you and Danny were still together. How was it then? I mean – when you told her how you felt."

"I didn't..."

Christine's eyebrows snapped together in surprise.

He let out a dark little chuckle. "Guess I should have mentioned that. It gives the whole thing an ironic twist."

"You never talked about it?"

"Well, we talked some, of course." He rubbed his chin. "But I had this rule not to say it – that thing with the L-word."

"Oh, really?" Christine gave him a skeptical look.

He laughed again – uncomfortably. "And here you probably still thought I was a nice guy..."

Christine played with her earring. "And you had this rule because?"

"Because I didn't like to feel trapped. And as soon as you say that, you're pretty much trapped."

Christine frowned. "Did you say it to Liz?"

"Nope."

"Anyone?"

"My Mom, but she probably doesn't count..." He gave her a lopsided smile.

"No, she doesn't," Christine confirmed. "How did your girlfriends deal with it? I mean with you not saying it?"

"Badly. Bitchy... Except for maybe Danny. She said she could live with it if I was convincing otherwise – which I though was a fair deal."

"Did she say it to you?"

He looked away. "Yeah. She did then. That's the irony, I guess..."

"How did you get away with not ever saying it to Liz?"

"She didn't like it, and she made scenes every other week," Joe reported, "but she got used to it eventually."

"And when you said it to Danny now, you meant it?"

"Well, like I said, it just slipped out or wouldn't have said it anyway, but... yeah, I guess I meant it."

"You guess?" Christine frowned at him.

Joe dropped his gaze and huffed out a resigned breath. "Yeah, I meant it," he grumbled.

"Okay," Christine sounded content as if something crucial had just been achieved. "Then I have another question here and I'd like an honest answer."

"O-kay." His tone indicated that he didn't exactly like this session.

"Imagine the same scene in which it just slipped out," Christine instructed, "and then imagine she whispers she loves you too."

He didn't answer right away. Chewed on his lip.

"I know what you're getting at," he mumbled, staring at the massage oil bottle that was still on the coffee table.

"How would you have felt?" Christine pressed. "Honestly?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I wanna say great and happy, but if I'm honest..."

"Scared?"

"Maybe."

"Trapped?"

He thought about it for a moment. "Can't rule it out."

Silence.

He glanced at Christine.

She held his gaze, her expression calm and somehow knowing.

"Great!" he huffed and threw his hands up. "So, what am I supposed to learn from this? That no matter how she reacts, nothing good can ever come out of it, because I'm a total jerk?"

Christine laughed. "No, I don't think it's really all that hopeless. Not when you're actually aware of what's going on. In your own head. And that you've got a bit of a problem there."

He gave her a somewhat stubborn look.

"I don't doubt one minute that she really likes you," Christine told him. "She wouldn't have let you get so close otherwise. I don't agree with your theory that she was just experimenting. She'd have to be crazy or pure evil to go that far with you just out of an experiment. And I don't think she's either. The crazy one, from what I understand, was Liz, not her, right?"

Joe let out a tense, unhappy chuckle in confirmation.

"You two actually sound like magnets to me," Christine went on. "But at the same time you're both so wary. I mean, yeah, sure, there is a lot of crap from the past as you call it. But at the same time, Joe, if you've got that something..." As a demonstration for what she meant, she snapped her fingers. "If you've got that something, and I think you do, you should be able to get past anything else. And I think you actually made some good progress in that respect when you talked on the mountain."

Joe coughed. "I wouldn't call that progress."

"I don't know her," Christine admitted. "Only what you just told me. So, maybe I'm wrong. Can't rule it out." She shrugged. "Still, I think I'm right. Maybe she's just scared to death that you'll get cold feet again the moment she tells you how she feels. I would be, if I was her. And at the same time you're still feeling guilty for what you did over three years ago. It's tricky. These kinds of things always are. You basically met again and both stumbled back into this without giving it a second thought – maybe the only way either of you could do it. Unfortunately that comes back to haunt you at some point. It's like..." Christine broke off and was looking for the right words to describe what she meant. "It's like neither of you wanted to really talk about or acknowledge at first, what it is you're doing; what you actually want out of it; where you want it to go. It's as if you have this thing going on and it's great, but at the same time you both shy away from putting a label on it because you're terrified that the other party won't agree with the label and, if worse comes to worst, the whole thing – whatever it was – collapses like a house of cards."

Sitting rigidly in his chair, Joe listened to her analysis and realized that she might actually be right.

"What I'm trying to say," she specified, "is that by using the L-word – even if it just slipped out – you put a label on it."

Joe cleared his throat and looked up. "Yeah, I see your point," he said, not sounding particularly happy.

Christine nodded. "Of course, it's not exactly helpful that you just told her on the phone, that she should forget about what you said and that you didn't even know why you'd said it. That was..."

"Idiotic," he concluded flatly. "I know. Couldn't help it."

Christine laughed sympathetically. "Anyway, yeah, I think what you said kind of labelled it. Before that, you could both still pretend that all this – your getting closer – didn't really mean anything. After you used the L-word, as you call it, the game suddenly had a name. And now both players better figure out if they wanna keep playing it by the appropriate rules..."

# Can you make it?

(Thursday, September 5th)

It was past eight in the evening on Thursday when Joe and Eric took the elevator up to R&D on the second floor and Joe swiped the key card to get inside.

After an exhausting almost three hour meeting with three Belgians over dinner, he felt tired and agitated. It had been exhausting. And it hadn't just been the fact that the guests' very heavy accents had made a constructive conversation difficult.

"Okay, I'm heading home," Eric yawned as they stepped into R&D's deserted lobby.

"Yeah, thanks for sticking around," Joe said, really meaning it. "Helped a lot to have you there. Especially since I don't know them that well." The Belgian account had always been predominantly Steve's thing.

Eric smiled his geeky smile. "That's alright," he said modestly. "Usually, when we deal with that company, we communicate with the sons of the owners – they're about our age. Unfortunately sometimes the Dads get involved, and then things get more complicated than they need to be."

Suppressing a yawn, Joe nodded. "Complicated is the word," he agreed.

Over the last hours Eric had actually grown on him. He had had a calming influence when Joe himself had been close to exploding at the one gentleman's open skepticism towards the program R&D had suggested supplying them with.

"Sometimes they are even worse," Eric announced.

"Oh, really? I'm surprised Steve can handle it," Joe said. After all, Steve was not famous for his patience.

"He can't," Eric said with a little shrug. "As soon as the old guys get involved, Steve finds all kinds of excuses to get out of the meetings. And then I sit there with them." He smiled, indicating that he didn't really mind. "But, like I said, most of the times we deal with the sons or even just one of them. And that's alright. I don't think we've ever had all three of the old guys here at once."

Joe couldn't help laughing at the way he had said it. "So, I just got really lucky then, I guess."

Eric laughed and nodded. "Yeah, it's like winning the lottery. Just in the negative sense..."

After Eric had left, and with no one else left at R&D, Joe headed for the bathroom, showered and finally pulled out the sleeper sofa in his office.

He had spent many nights in this office during his delightful relationship with Liz – but it had usually only been for a maximum of two consecutive nights. Sleeping in the office for an extended period of time now did feel a bit weird – no matter what he tried to make everyone else believe. He wasn't really comfortable with it. He actually showered in the evening instead of the morning because he was afraid of running into an early-bird-employee on his way back from the shower otherwise.

He was going to be glad when this week and the next were over. Eventually he would definitely have to think about some kind of other, long-term solution regarding accommodation. If he wanted to stay with R&D, he would just have to rent a flat around here. And he did want to stay with R&D. It was clearer to him now that he was back in the office than it had been before. He loved the company, the work, the challenge – and the fact that this was something he had helped create.

Yawning, he dropped down on his bed now and reached for the phone on the side table to set the alarm for the next morning. When he saw that there was a text message, he faltered.

It was from Liz.

Let me guess. With Steve out of town, someone must be covering for him. Are you seriously staying at the office? Why don't we meet? At least for a drink?

Liz

Clenching his jaws, he responded:

No, thanks!

He had just put the phone aside again when there was another message coming in. Expecting a nasty reply from Liz, he grabbed it. The text was from Danny, however:

Pete's coming on Saturday around eleven now.

D

Staring at the words, Joe sucked in his lower lip. So what exactly was she saying? Did she want him there or not?

He typed:

Okay. Meaning?

The response came within a few seconds:

Can you make it?

Joe:

That depends. Do you want me there?

D:

If you behave, yes.

He growled. Then he typed:

Grrr.

Five seconds passed. Then she sent:

Yes. I want you there. Please.

A crooked smile spreading across his face, Joe responded:

Okay.

I'll be there around 10:45.

Answer:

Could you try to make it by 10:30?

Joe:

So you have time to hide me in the closet, or what?

D:

No, but it would be nice if you didn't run right into him on your way in. Sometimes he's early.

Joe:

Okay, then 10:35.

D:

Please park in the parallel street. Okay?

Rolling his eyes, Joe growled to himself and just typed:

You know what:

Good night now.

Response:

Good night. And thanks.

Blowing out a deep breath, Joe tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling for a moment. Then he let out a dry little chuckle and shook his head.

He had just set the phone aside again, ready to finally go to sleep, when it beeped again. This time it was Sarah:

Are you back from Amsterdam yet? How was it? Met with your friend(s)?

Mom just called. Aunt Tess is having a birthday party for Grandma next Saturday afternoon. I said I'll tell you. She'll call you tomorrow or so. Don't even try to get out of this! Even if there's going to be four women then!

Sarah

Looking at the text, Joe considered this.

When is that birthday party? Exactly?

The response came promptly:

Saturday at three. Aunt Tess's house. Whatever else you have planned, cancel it!

Relaxing a bit, Joe wrote:

Fine. I'll be there. Or we can drive together. Are you getting anything? If so, I'll pay half.

Response:

I just love your attitude! Just let Sarah take care of everything.

Joe:

Sarah is just so good at it, though ;))) And she always wants to be in charge anyway. So...

Good night now. I'm going to sleep.

Sarah:

Good night.

Joe:

Jack there?

Sarah:

No comment.

# What's he doing here?

(Saturday, September 7th)

Sitting on D's sofa, Joe checked his watch again. He had been here for almost half an hour now. How much longer could it possibly take that moron to show up? Pete was already twenty minutes late.

He glanced over at D, who was sitting on one of the bar stools.

Even though her chair was currently pointed in the general direction of the living room, she seemed to be avoiding looking his way at all costs. Instead, her gaze shifted in regular intervals between the floor, the glass that she was holding in her lap and the kitchen window to her left from where she could see the street.

He had gotten here later than planned. The delay had been less than ideal, because by the time he had arrived, they had both been on the edge. And they had gotten off on the wrong foot entirely.

She had let him in with a grumbled Hello and a look that seemed to say it all – a look that he interpreted to reflect irritation and dismay for his being late and for his defying her instructions to park somewhere in the parallel street. (Since he had been late, he had decided to park right across the street from her place, relying on the fact that Pete didn't know his car anyway...) He had countered her look with the most impersonal peck on the cheek and had then squeezed by her and gone to sit on the sofa.

She had turned her back on him and walked over to the kitchen. Halfway there, she had turned around again and scratched her left eyebrow, eyeing him cautiously. "When Pete comes," she had said slowly, "I'm going to meet him outside. But still, even if I have no plans to let him in..." She had paused for a moment and taken a deep breath. "You can't be sitting here in the living room when he comes. Please... You need to stay out of sight."

"Sure, which broom closet would you like me to hide in?" he had shot back reflexively.

She had faltered and dropped her gaze. "That's not what I meant," she had said. "Just... Go to my bedroom or something, just stay out of sight. Please."

He had raised his eyebrows. "Your bedroom? I may go to your bedroom?"

"Yes." She had sounded drained.

When she had turned around and shuffled towards the kitchen, he had finally realized that he was being a real jerk – instead of being supportive. And it had dawned on him that he might have totally misinterpreted the look she had given him upon arrival. What he had read as her being angry, might have just been her being extremely anxious. He couldn't even blame her, really. Had Pete been early, there might have actually been the feared encounter in the front yard that she had wanted to avoid at all costs...

From the kitchen she had asked if he wanted anything to drink. When he hadn't wanted anything, she had just gotten a glass of water for herself. Then she had sat down on one of her swiveling bar stools where she was still sitting. Miles away.

They had made some half-hearted attempts at small talk – or he had. But it had been forced. And when all she had done, was contribute one-syllabled responses, he had given it up. Chatting about some cold-front coming in, had seemed like a joke anyway, when at the same time there were so many elephants in the room that it felt almost crowded.

So, the quiet minutes had dragged on. And on. It was 11:32 now, and Pete still hadn't shown up. Joe couldn't help suspecting that Pete might be doing this on purpose with the clear goal to arrive just before noon and then try to persuade her to either go out for lunch with him or at least ask him in for a quick snack and something to drink. And if that didn't work, he could still claim that he needed to use her bathroom and come in for that. Manipulative prick!

With some satisfaction Joe realized that his being here would be a major obstacle to Pete achieving any of his despicable goals. It would be impossible for her to let him into the flat today.

He glanced at the two paper bags with Pete's stuff that were sitting beside the front door. Then, with a quick look over at D, who was currently glancing out the window again, holding out for Peeete, he got up from the sofa.

He stretched his arms over his head as if his limbs were getting stiff from the long wait and walked over to those paper bags. He squatted beside them, tilted his head and reached for one of the handles to pull the bag open wider.

"What are you doing?" D asked from the bar counter. It sounded a little dangerous.

He shrugged and shot her a quick smirk. "Just interested..."

"Just leave the bags alone, okay?" she said. "He could be here any minute."

"I bet he'll show up at five to twelve and suggest you two go and grab a bite to eat together." He reached into one of the bags.

"Joe..."

Absolutely unimpressed by her pronouncing his name in such a scolding fashion, Joe pulled out the after-shave flask he had seen lying on the floor after his break-in a few days ago. He still didn't know what it smelled like. Last chance... It was Armani. He held it against the light. Half full. He could feel her watching him when he took the cap off and held it under his nose. "Eeww!" He grimaced and chuckled to himself.

"Joe, please..." Now D really sounded like the mother of a misbehaving child in a doctor's waiting area when they could be called in any minute.

Ignoring her, Joe sprayed some of the fragrance into the air, making sure he didn't get any on himself. Then he sniffed again. He shot D a puzzled raised-eyebrow look, got a dark look back from her, put the cap back on the flask and dropped it back into the bag – the heavy I'm-such-a-manly-man scent still lingering in the air.

He pulled out the next best thing, just to keep himself – and her – entertained. It was a silk scarf in tan colors with a peculiar (manly?) pattern. He pulled it through his fingers while giving D an amused look. "Does he wear that? Really?"

"Just stop this," she demanded with a dismissive shake of her head.

"Why?" He laughed. "This is fun..."

He started putting the scarf around his neck.

When, from the corner of his eye, he saw her slide off her bar stool and she slammed her glass down on the counter, he freed himself from the scarf a little clumsily and, one hand raised in surrender, placed it back in the bag over-gingerly. "Sorry!" He wasn't (and didn't sound) sorry at all.

He got up and looked over at her.

She was standing beside the dining table, just a few steps away from the bar counter now. Obviously she had decided that, since he had stopped playing with Pete's stuff, there was no need to come over and slap him upside the head.

She actually looked drained and really tense.

That tugged at something inside him quite a bit.

"Hey," he said, unable to stop himself. "You need to relax, okay?" And then he strolled towards her.

Scratching her left eyebrow, she shook her head and turned to look out the window again.

"Just relax," softly said as he stopped just an arm's length away from her. He felt this strong desire to reach out and touch her but shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans instead. He really shouldn't start anything that they didn't have time for right now with Pete coming any minute.

"Why don't you just grab those bags, throw them out the door and slam it shut..." he chuckled.

He could see her swallow, her eyes still fixed on the road outside her window. Suddenly her expression turned hard.

Following her gaze, Joe saw a black BMW SUV come up the road.

"Oh, look who's here," he mocked. "Peeete." He almost laughed out loud. This was exactly the car Pete would drive! And there even was the expected customized license plate. Joe took a step closer to the window to have a better look. The license plate read GID 1. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

He turned around to D, considering asking her, but then immediately realized she was not in the mood for jokes or teasing right now. In fact, she gave him this strained look that reminded him that his staring out the window here was in total contrast to what she had asked him to do.

"Okay, okay...." He nodded and stepped around her. "I'll be in the bedroom..." In passing he gave her arm a quick rub.

~~~

D felt her heart pounding up to her throat as she picked up the bags, one in each hand and stepped outside. Her right arm was still tingling with Joe's split-second touch.

She took the three stairs from the front door down to the gravel path and walked about halfway across the front yard. That's where Pete met her, and she sat the paper bags down on the ground right in front of her feet.

Pete looked as if he had just walked out of a fashion shooting for a magazine cover – perfectly cut, very short, dark hair, black Ray Bans, grey slacks and a black Ralph Lauren shirt, sleeves rolled up, Rolex glinting in the sunlight, and a silk scarf around his neck... D was glad that Joe couldn't see this. She could only imagine the look he'd have on his face.

"Hi," Pete said coolly and stepped up to her as far as he could with the paper bags parked at her feet.

"Hi," she said stiffly.

Despite the bags, he managed to place his hands on her shoulders and lean in far enough to kiss her on both cheeks.

She endured it with a frozen face.

"Here's your stuff," she said unnecessarily when he pulled back again. "It's all there – all your expensive things. If you would like to quickly check it..." She made an inviting gesture.

Pete seemed a little thrown off. "Yeah, I'm sure everything's there," he said with a glance at the bags. "And I didn't mean it like that – you know that." He pushed his sunglasses up into his hair. "Just didn't want this to be left on the sidewalk." He shrugged. "And I wanted to see you."

"Great. Here I am," she said with a jerky shrug and not even trying to sound warm and friendly.

"Danielle," he said pleadingly. "Please, don't do this..."

"Do what?" she asked, her tone and her expression hard.

"This," he motioned with his hand from her to himself, then to the bags at their feet and finally towards the front door behind her as if he didn't even know where to start.

"Pete..." she started.

"I really am sorry about last week," he said, his eyes fixed on her. "Really!"

"Yeah, great," she said dismissively. "I accept your apology, it's fine. Here's your stuff..."

Pete let out an incredulous little laugh. "Wow, so here's my stuff," he said darkly. "Guess I better quickly grab it and leave, huh?"

D clenched her jaws and shifted her gaze away from him. She was burning to blurt out a loud and clear 'Yes! Just grab the stuff and leave!', but somehow the words were stuck in her throat.

In search of something that would help her focus and keep calm – at least on the outside – she let her gaze wander across the street where the sand-colored Volvo was parked. Joe's car. She had wanted him to park in a different street. He had made a point of parking right over there. It had seemed territorial and childish earlier. Now she actually found the sight of his car immensely comforting.

~~~

Sitting on D's bed, Joe was glaring at the weird blue painting that hung across from him. He had noticed it last time he had been here after breaking in. There wasn't any way to not notice that thing. It was huge and it was wild. He leaned closer and tried to decipher the signature in the bottom left-hand corner. Did that say Robert S.? Her brother? Joe raised his eyebrows. He had never known that Robert painted. Interesting. And very blue. But unfortunately – despite all the blue – not calming in any way...

Huffing out a tense breath, Joe pushed himself up from the bed. One thing he really hated about his current location was that he couldn't hear or see a thing of what was going on in the front yard. He had promised to stay out of sight, yeah, but did the fact that Pete was not supposed to see him, necessarily mean that he couldn't see or hear anything himself either?

The thing was, he was just dying to take a peek at Pete. Check out what he looked like these days...

~~~

"Come on," Pete said, his hand reaching out to touch D's arm. "You must see yourself how childish this is."

"I'm not childish!" she snapped and pulled her arm away.

Pete blew out a breath and shook his head. "Well, after all we've been through over the years, this is where it ends? You meet me in your front yard, hand me my stuff and I'm supposed to just... piss off?"

"Why do you have to make this so hard, Pete?" D asked wearily. Why couldn't he just leave her alone? Why couldn't he see clear signs? How much clearer did she have to be? How much crueler? "What do you expect me to do?"

"What do I expect?" his tone was incredulous again. "Some courtesy, at least. And – in a way I had hoped we could talk. We should at least try to stay friends. Maybe not right now but... after a while."

D felt her throat tighten. Maybe he was suffering from short-term memory loss? Hadn't she already told him that, after their last unpleasant encounter, the friendship thing was cancelled?

"And do we really have to do this in your front yard," he complained.

"Pete, please..." D was starting to feel desperate. As her eyes drifted over to the Volvo again, she realized that, at this very moment, if Joe hadn't been in the house, she might have caved. Let Pete in. Even if only to shout at him behind closed doors – shout that she never ever wanted to see him again and that yes, he should just take his crap and leave.

"Danielle..." Again, Pete reached out, this time getting hold of her hand.

Closing her eyes, she drew in a deep breath. Okay, she'd just yell at him right here and now. No matter what the neighbors thought...

But then she suddenly felt him abruptly release her hand.

When she opened her eyes again, he was glaring past her, his jaw had dropped and his eyes were squinting with something resembling disbelief.

D swallowed. She didn't need to turn around to know that Joe had come out.

"Hi there," she heard him say – his tone vibrating with fake cheerfulness.

Across from her, Pete's mouth had snapped shut and his eyes darted to her – a hard, questioning look from piercing light-green eyes.

She momentarily felt speechless. The first thing that had come to mind of course, was to turn around and snarl at Joe. She had told him to stay in the background, and here he was standing on her front steps, throwing a cheery Hi there at Pete. More proof that no one cared what she wanted...

"Danielle..." Pete drawled, clearly still in the process of wondering if he might be dreaming.

D had meanwhile turned around enough to shoot Joe a menacing look over her shoulder. A look that he countered with a shrug.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Pete asked from her other side, obviously having come to the conclusion that he was not just having a freaky hallucination.

"Oh, I was just in the area," Joe said lightly before she could even open her mouth.

She gave him a warning look.

"Danielle?" There was some real urgency in Pete's voice. Apparently he absolutely needed a statement from her personally, rather than from Joe.

"Danielle," Joe said sweetly while tilting his head a bit and making a grand gesture towards Pete, as if to invite her to please handle it herself if she didn't want him to. Then he sat down on the top of the three stairs and started kneading his right hand with his left and doing some exercises for his fingers. The range of movement of the two that had been broken had definitely improved over the past two weeks. Sometime he'd have to see if he could still play the guitar...

D had turned back to Pete. Her head buzzing with all the things she would have to clarify with Joe later – including that his calling her Danielle really sucked – she tried to come up with something to say to Pete.

He was glaring at her, his expression hard. "I can't believe this," he announced with a jerky shake of his head. "What the hell is this supposed to be?"

D had hardly opened her mouth, planning to tell Pete not to talk to her like she was a silly little kid, when she heard Joe behind her.

"Why don't you just take your crap and leave?"

Pete's gaze darted past her again, his eyes narrow. "Oh, and you're here to tell me that, Reilley?" He coughed out an angry laugh.

Joe shook his head and dropped his gaze because that made it easier to defy the urge to get up and kick Pete where it really hurt.

"No," he said calmly. "Like I said, I just happened to be in the neighborhood." He topped the lie with a provocative little shrug.

"Oh, really?" Pete scathed.

"Yep," Joe retorted flatly, his eyes slowly trailing up again.

Still standing between the two, with Pete standing in front of her and Joe sitting a few steps behind her, D was starting to feel as if she was in a bad movie.

Pete's eyes had returned to her. "So how come he's just in the neighborhood?" he inquired through gritted teeth.

"He's just..." D started.

"You're damn lucky I wasn't in the neighborhood last Friday!" Joe interrupted cuttingly.

Pete's expression seemed to freeze. "What do you mean?" His voice – even though he probably intended it to come across as controlled – sounded a little shrill.

"Do you really want me to go into detail here?" Joe asked darkly.

"Oh, just cut it out, you...!" Pete shouted with a dismissive wave of his hand in Joe's direction. Then he turned his attention back to D, who had clutched a hand to her face and was slowly shaking her head. Maybe she should just go inside...

"Danielle, I think I deserve an explanation!" Pete insisted. "Don't tell me you dropped me because of him!" He pointed in Joe's direction.

D dropped her hand from her face and was just opening her mouth to issue an important statement, but Joe was faster.

"That's got absolutely nothing to do with me," he growled. "I've not even been in town until three weeks ago."

"Joe!" D hissed over her shoulder.

And Joe raised his hands in surrender.

D turned back to Pete. "Pete! He's just here as a friend, and I didn't dump you, but... it just wasn't right."

Pete's eyes had narrowed to the point where D was wondering if he could even still see out of them.

"Oh, he's a friend?" he mocked. "Hear, hear! That's interesting! We can't be friends, but you can be friends with him? Is there any logic here? Isn't he the one who..."

"Shut up!" D hissed, trying to keep her voice down.

Pete coughed out an angry laugh. "Yeah, I better not say that out loud, huh?" he said. "But we both know he fucked around and it took you months to get over it, so... I can't believe this!"

D momentarily felt like her brain was stuck.

Pete let out another dark laugh. "When you told me that there was someone else I actually thought you might just be making it up." His tone was condescending. "But now..." He shook his head. "What a revelation! Who would have thought that he's back in the picture." He laughed again. "I always thought you were smart."

On the stairs, Joe had just reached out for the terracotta ball that was lying next to him, wondering if he should throw it at Pete himself or hand it to Danny so she could use it.

"I want you to leave," D snapped in Pete's direction.

"Are you suffering from memory loss or what?" Pete asked with a sneer. "This is the guy you bawled your eyes out about. And now he's seriously sitting here telling me to get out..."

"Pete!" D hissed, "Stop twisting everything around here. You're here to pick up your stuff, so please do. Because I am telling you to leave..."

Pete shook his head angrily. "Sure, I'll leave. Don't worry. I fully understand that you don't have the right feelings for me and all that crap. But that you have them for him..."

"No, don't worry Pete, she doesn't..." Joe said with an especially cheery chuckle.

When D whisked around and gave him a furious look as a consequence, he was glad that he hadn't handed her that terracotta ball earlier. It might have landed on his head instead of Pete's.

"Whatever!" Pete snapped. "You two have fun together! Enjoy it, Danielle. You've already seen once how good he is for you. Do it again! Hope you find a good shoulder to cry on afterwards because it surely won't be mine this time!" With that he leaned down and grabbed the handles of the bags.

As he straightened up, a sneer appeared on his face. "How is it with you, Reilley, ever been tested for HIV and all the other crap? Because considering the tramp you were with – or still are, and given your reputation, I would think that could get pretty risky."

For a moment there was total silence; D's ears still ringing with what unbelievable thing Pete had just said.

Behind her Joe let out an angry laugh. "Surprising that you know so much about my reputation," he mocked.

Pete's eyes narrowed. "Well, one of the girls you just screwed a few times and then dumped was my sister's best friend..."

Joe was momentarily torn apart between wanting to defend himself and wanting to know which of the three girls that spontaneously popped up in his head Pete might be referring to. But then he decided to ignore Pete's last comment altogether. "Not that it's any of your fucking business," he snarled instead. "But for the record – and for the information of everyone present here: Yeah, I have been tested. And I'm fine." He paused for a moment, then continued in the same angry voice. "But I'm actually starting to wonder why you would have ever gotten involved with her." He nudged his head towards D. "Given my reputation..."

"Oh, you –" Pete scoffed furiously. "Why am I even talking to you? Gloat all you want here. But you know as well as I that she'll never really trust you again! She'd be a total idiot to, and she's not!"

"Yeah, yeah, thanks for the analysis," Joe growled and rolled his eyes.

Pete gave him a deadly look back and then shot a quick glance at D as if to determine whether it made any sense to still talk to her. When she just looked back at him with a hard, restraint expression, he mumbled something unintelligible and shook his head. Then he turned on his heel and, the two bags dangling from his hands, stormed off to his car.

A few seconds later he left with squealing tires.

# I've got it for you...

(Saturday, September 7th)

Gazing at the sidewalk just outside her front yard, Pete's last few words still ringing in her ears, D felt as if she had just been let off a very fast carnival ride that had involved an awful lot of spinning. The ground under her feet seemed unstable and her stomach was seriously knotted.

Following some sudden instinct to get away, she slowly turned around and, eyes focused on the front door, walked back inside.

~~~

Sitting on the stairs, Joe had watched her. He had seen her spin around on her heel, stomp straight through the flowerbed, just so she wouldn't have to take the stairs he was sitting on, and disappear inside. She hadn't looked at him once.

Now all he was still waiting for was the front door behind him to be slammed shut. Thankfully, he hadn't left anything inside. Having to ring the bell to ask for his phone or wallet back would absolutely suck.

A minute passed, maybe two.

He shot a confused glance over his shoulder and found the door still cracked open.

Silently shaking his head to himself, he leaned forward – his elbows on his knees – and briefly buried his face in his hands.

He rubbed his eyes.

Exhaled.

He should probably feel happy and content that Pete had left, but the confrontation had left him exhausted and slightly disoriented. And there was an extremely bad aftertaste.

It had been unexpected that Pete would immediately know who he was, and that Pete would be so annoyingly well-informed about his past screw-ups regarding Danny and even some other girls. It did make sense, though – unfortunately. Pete had probably had an eye on her from the first day he'd seen her in London (or even before that). She had been alone, she had been hurt and she had been sort of broken – and Pete had patiently picked up the pieces...

Joe ground his teeth. He wished he could just shrug off everything that Pete had said, but some of it had hit very close to home.

~~~

D was pacing around inside her living room, arms crossed over her chest, dirty footprints from her walk through the flowerbed marking her every step on the beige carpet. She didn't even notice it. And even if she had, she wouldn't have cared.

Her head was spinning.

The relief that she should feel about Pete maybe having disappeared from her life for good, was overpowered by the total mess of emotions tearing at her in regard to that other guy – the one that was sitting outside on her steps. The one who had had clear instructions to stay out of sight. The one who had started ignoring her instructions already when he had arrived dangerously late and parked his car right across the street.

She unwound her arms and pressed her index fingers against her temples. She quietly growling to herself. As much as she wanted to – she couldn't really feel angry at the guy on the steps.

The sound of a car door being shut outside now, made her freeze and her heart drop.

That sound had the quality of a kick in the stomach.

~~~

Joe had just put on his sunglasses and started the car when, from the corner of his eye, he registered the front door of D's place across the street flying open.

Despite of himself, he glanced over there.

He could see her come to an abrupt halt on the front steps, her expression first shocked, then slipping to something resembling devastation.

Behind his sunglasses, he closed his eyes and released a tense breath. What now? He could hardly just drive off now, or could he?

Across the street D was still staring in his direction. Finally she gave a weak shake of her head and threw out her arms as if in total resignation. Then, slumping her shoulders, she turned as if to head back inside.

That's when Joe turned off the engine.

It made her falter and glance back over, her expression really tense.

Releasing an exasperated breath, Joe took off his sunglasses, put down the side window and gave her a grim, questioning look.

She glared back at him, chewing on her lip.

Not letting her out of his sight, Joe gave a slight shake of his head.

She shrugged weakly and dropped her gaze to her feet.

~~~

She was waiting in the open front door as he came up the stairs, but she never met his eyes.

Once inside, she slowly closed the door behind him.

Joe walked to the center of the living room. There he stopped, his eyes studying the dirty footsteps on the carpet.

Tense silence.

D had taken a few steps into the living room as well and was leaning against the big chair beside the sofa.

He glanced up from the floor and gave her a searching look.

She couldn't look away fast enough and very briefly held his gaze before her eyes dropped to her hand that was brushing over the fabric of the chair.

"You were just going to leave..." she said, hardly loud enough to hear and seriously choked up.

"Yeah, well..." Joe scoffed. "What did you expect when you just walked away?"

Her hand on the chair stopped moving. "I didn't just..."

"Sure you did," he said, "Maybe you didn't quite slam the door shut, but... what did you think I'd do? Run after you? So you can tell me again to back off? Or should I have just stayed on your front steps until you decide to call me in?" He threw out a hand and shook his head. Then he turned his back to her and went over to the dining table.

"There's been quite a bit of truth in what Pete said, hasn't there?" he contemplated pointedly as he pulled out a chair and sat down on it sideways, facing her. "Should give you plenty to think about." He shrugged. "I thought I'll let you get right to it."

D shook her head and slightly rolled her eyes. "As far as I'm concerned, neither Pete nor you said a whole lot of true and valid stuff out there. Definitely nothing I would want to think about much."

Raising his eyebrows, Joe mentally went through some of the highlights of his exchange with Pete. He couldn't deny that she did have a point.

"Well, I tried my best," he claimed nevertheless. Even to himself he sounded defiant.

"I told you to stay out of sight," D reminded him wearily. "Why did you have to come outside?"

"Because he's a fucking manipulative prick and I couldn't stand it anymore!" he retorted.

Shaking her head, D ground her teeth and growled a bit.

"I probably shouldn't have come here in the first place," Joe muttered angrily, "but God knows what would have happened then! Because honestly, it didn't seem like you were handling it too well."

"You walking out there really didn't help, though" she retorted. "And I would have handled it somehow."

"Yeah, well..." He shrugged and let his arm dangle over the back of the chair. "Whatever you say."

She gave him a furious look. "If you think that your taking over the conversation with Pete for me like I'm some idiot..." Her voice cracked and she turned away.

"That's not how it was," Joe said. "And that's not how I meant it. Really – I just..." Instead of finishing his sentence he shook his head. "He just annoys the hell out of me. And – yeah – I guess it did get a bit out of hand ..."

D scoffed.

"Yeah, unforgivable, I know," Joe said with a bitter little laugh, "but don't worry, it won't happen again!" He huffed out an irritated breath. "If that's what you wanted me to come in here for – just to chew me out for everything I did wrong – I'm going to leave now..." With that, he pushed himself up from the chair.

"Joe..." D made an awkward, halting gesture with her hand, her eyes back on him. "Wait."

Blowing out some air, he sat back down on his chair, giving her a dark look.

Her hand and her gaze had returned to the chair beside her and she was nervously twisting a little thread that was loose.

"I'm..." She broke off and inhaled audibly. "I'm actually really glad you were here..."

"Huh?"

"It... It actually gave me some gravity." She still wasn't looking at him.

"Say that again?" His tone indicated that he didn't quite believe his ears.

Her eyes trailed over to him. "Don't mock me here, okay?" Her voice was trembling.

"I'm not mocking you," he assured her.

She had abandoned the loose thread on the chair and was now cupping her right elbow with her left hand, looking undecided.

"I'm not mocking you," Joe repeated a little more softly, "I guess I'm just in awe at hearing you say something like that."

She drew in a long breath and nodded. Then, her eyes fixed on the floor rather than him, she started walking across the room towards the dining table.

Joe watched her wordlessly. He had no idea anymore where this was heading.

Once she reached the dining table, she turned around and perched on the edge of it, just an arm-length away from where he was sitting.

"I'm still in awe at a few of the things you said, too," she said quietly, her eyes on something in the living room and both her hands gripping the tabletop left and right of her.

"Which part exactly?" Joe asked with a cautious look up at her. He realized that – were she talking about the HIV issue – she wouldn't be beating around the bush like this.

"Specifically the part where you said that I don't have it for you either..." She still wasn't looking at him.

Joe swallowed. "O-kay..."

"I do have it for you," she announced with a slightly stubborn edge, "and you'd have to be dumb and blind to miss that..."

Joe felt his throat tighten, as parts of his conversation with Christine flashed through his head now. Little warning lamps were coming on. If he got cold feet now...

"I love you, I guess," D specified with a little shrug and in an almost apologetic tone. Her grip around the tabletop had tightened. "So there!" With that, her eyes flickered to him.

Caught in her gaze, Joe felt like a deer in the headlights, his heart having just taken a brief break from pumping blood to his brain. But then, as his heart resumed doing its job and the tension that had been dragging him down for days now suddenly fell off, he burst out laughing. And laughed even more as he realized that what she had said, didn't make him feel trapped at all.

Confusedly, D stared at him.

"Sorry, Danny," he said, still somewhat gasping and chuckling and trying to pull himself together. "But this..." He reached out placed a hand on top of one of hers. "This really couldn't be any more romantic!" He drew in a breath and then continued in a voice that sounded as if he was trying to imitate her: "I love you, I guess..." He overstressed the second part.

For a moment, D kept giving him a baffled look. Then her expression finally relaxed and she let out a little chuckle. "I'm so sorry this doesn't meet your romantic expectations," she mocked, "I totally forgot that I'm dealing with Mr. Romance himself here. Sooo sorry. Of course, what I should have said was–" and now her tone changed to a teasing imitation of him. "Shit Joe, I love you..."

Joe laughed. "Alright." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "You can say that, and then I'd have to say –" Again he changed to a parody of her: "I don't want to hear that..."

"That's not what I said," D protested, having trouble, staying serious. "And I really..."

She fell silent when he eased her hand off the tabletop and pulled on it, giving her a firm look.

"Why don't you just shut up and come closer?" he suggested and tugged on her hand.

"Shut up?" she asked with mock dismay and let him pull her up to his chair.

"Yeah." He gave her a cocky smile. "Unless you actually have something nice to say – and in a tone that ideally doesn't contradict the message." He tugged on her hand again.

Her gaze meshing with his, she let him pull her onto his lap.

"Okay," she said slowly, "then let me try this again." She put her arms around his shoulders, cleared her throat. "I love you," she said, "and I sure hope you deal with it better this time around."

Instead of an answer, he tilted his head, buried his hands in her hair and kissed her.

# Grandma's Birthday

(Saturday, September 7th)

Sitting sideways on Joe's lap, her arms still draped around his shoulders, D let this wave of warmth wash over her – the aftermath of a long, crazy kiss with giggles and devious little bites and Joe's warm hands trailing up and down under her shirt until they came to rest on her waist.

It made her realize just how much she had missed him.

"Man, you really drive me nuts, just so you know," he told her while leaning his forehead against hers, his thumbs under her shirt slowly sweeping up and down, giving her goose bumps.

She tried the same thumb-sweeping motion with her hand that was resting on the nape of his neck. Seeing him briefly close his eyes now was an incredibly thrilling confirmation that she did have some effect here...

"And there you say you can't go from zero to a hundred in half a second," he teased and leaned in for another quick brush of his lips against hers.

"I guess I just did," she mumbled, while sliding her cheek against his and softly biting his earlobe. "And the driving-me-crazy-thing goes both ways... just so you know."

"Oh, it does?" he pulled away a little and looked at her with raised eyebrows.

"No, I was just trying to make you feel better," she smirked.

His expression changed to that of a very sad puppy. "Oh, that's so cruel," he said.

Laughing, D put her hands around his face. "I'm so sorry," she chuckled. Then she kissed him. Softly.

"If I'd seen any chance that we'd end up like this," he whispered between kisses while he pulled her really close, "I would have made sure I have a clear afternoon schedule." He ran his hand up under her shirt again.

"What do you have to do?" she asked, barely suppressing a giggle at the tickling touch of his fingertips along her bra strap.

"My aunt's throwing a little birthday party for Grandma," he said while leisurely sprawling his fingers against her back. "So... I guess I better show up."

"Yeah, you better show up," D agreed.

"Do you wanna come?" he whispered.

She pulled away, looking baffled.

Joe grinned. "Would really help me. Because Sarah and I are driving together – I mean, I am driving, and she'd probably be a lot less annoying if you were there."

"Don't talk like that!" D said scoldingly.

"I'm sorry, but it's true," he shrugged. "Come with me, okay? It'll be such a nice surprise effect."

Frowning, D shook her head. "No, not today. Maybe next time."

"Why? What are you afraid of?"

"Nothing, I'm not afraid of anything or anyone there," D said, "but I just don't think it's a good idea for today. It's your grandma's party. She hardly knows me."

"Oh, she knows you," he assured her and gave her mouth another quick brushing of his lips. "She's told me more than once that it was very stupid of me to lose the sweet brunette and fall into the arms of the blond – how did she put it? – I don't remember. Something nasty, though. And Grandma is never nasty."

"Oh, so I'm sweet?" D asked with exaggerated delight.

He huffed out a laugh. "Na, she obviously doesn't know you all that well..." He tipped his nose against hers.

D pulled away and gave him a frown. "Oh, so you don't agree?" Her eyes dropped to his lips.

He pulled a corner of his mouth up. "No, sweet is not really the word I was thinking of..."

~~~

"Are you going to tell me what you did this morning?" Sarah asked from the passenger seat.

Joe frowned. He had known she'd turn this drive into a cross-examination.

He had briefly seen her this morning. He had come downstairs slightly stressed out because he had overslept.

She had been in the kitchen, having breakfast. He had quickly grabbed a cup of coffee and an energy bar and had eaten it while leaning against the counter.

Sarah had asked what time he wanted to leave to go over to Aunt Tess' place in the afternoon. He had suggested leaving around one-thirty but had added that he had some other thing to take care of before that. He had left the kitchen and consequently the house before Sarah could press for more information.

Of course now, with a thirty-minute drive left to Aunt Tess' house, Sarah was seeing a chance to compensate for the lack of information she had gotten in the morning.

"Joe?" From the corner of his eye he could see her turn and look at him. "Were you at D's?"

He rolled his eyes. But at the same time he couldn't help hearing the concern in her voice. And somehow it made him soft.

"Yep." He confirmed reluctantly.

"And?" Now she sounded even more concerned.

Joe blew out a slightly irritated breath. "Pete was picking up his stuff and I thought I could as well be there and make sure he actually really did this time."

"Oh really?" Her tone seemed to have changed from concerned to delighted.

"Yep." He tried to keep this matter-of-factly.

"How did it go?"

"Good. He picked up his stuff."

"He didn't see you though, right?" Concerned again.

Chewing on his lip, Joe weighed his answer. "He did kind of see me," he finally admitted.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sarah wanted to know.

"That he saw me and he wasn't pleased..."

"Oh God," Sarah quickly raised her hand to her mouth, obviously trying to suppress a giggle.

"Yeah, well," Joe shrugged. "It hadn't been the plan and it was, of course, totally contrary to her instructions, but..." He shrugged again.

"Is she still talking to you?" Sarah inquired skeptically.

"Surprisingly, yes." He shot her a quick look from the side.

"How did you manage that?"

"I don't know, but it almost seems as if we're finally getting somewhere..."

"Wow." Sarah sounded impressed. "Good for you."

"Yeah..."

~~~

It was eight o'clock when Joe parked the car and turned off the engine. He had dropped Sarah off at Jack's and decided that going home to his own bed, didn't sound good at all.

He had considered calling D but he didn't have the handsfree headset in his ear, and he didn't feel like pulling over. So, here he was, parked in the same spot across the street from her place as this morning.

He got out his phone and scrolled through the contact list.

D picked up after a few rings.

"Hi, how was your party?" she asked.

"Nice. Everyone's good, happy and healthy, and Mom might actually really hit it off with Thomas?"

"What? Who?"

"Oh, hasn't Sarah told you about him yet? He's their Spanish neighbor, cool guy. Likes Mom. And vice versa..."

D laughed. "Sounds like she's got your blessing."

"Yeah. Anytime. Sarah's still eyeing him with suspicion, of course. She spent the entire drive back going on and on about how weird she finds it..."

"How come? What's so weird about it?"

"I have no idea."

"Well, weren't you listening to what she said?"

"Nope. Sometimes I just have to zone her out."

"Okay, I assume she's not standing next to you at the moment then."

"Nope, I dropped her off at Jack's. That will hopefully take her mind off Thomas." He chuckled.

"So, you're back at the house by yourself then?" D asked after a short pause.

"Not technically, no," he said. "I kind of got lost a bit and I ended up parked across your street."

There was a surprised little chuckle from her side, and a moment later the curtain of the kitchen window was pulled to the side a bit.

"I see you," Joe drawled ominously.

"Oh no..." she said with fake terror and let the kitchen curtain fall closed again.

Chuckling, Joe got out of the car.

As he walked across the street, he heard her hang up.

She met him in the front door.

She was wearing navy blue sweat pants and the T-shirt that had the grinning alligator with the sparkling teeth on it. Seeing her in that T-shirt sent a weird flash of warmth into the pit of his stomach.

"Hi." He smiled.

"Hi." She scratched her left eyebrow.

"Nice T-shirt..."

She looked down on herself as if to check what exactly she was wearing, then she laughed. "I've had that forever."

"I know."

She let out a little laugh, obviously remembering some of the things that alligator had witnessed in the past.

"Can I come in?"

Nodding, she stepped aside.

"What brings you here?" she asked innocently as she closed the door behind him.

"Some project I wasn't able to finish earlier," he said and turned around so he was facing her.

"And what would that be?" Leaning with her back against the door behind her, she batted her eyes as him.

"What would that be?" he repeated with a smirk. Then, obviously intending to demonstrate rather than explain, he took a step closer and placed a hand against the door right beside her head. "I guess I could start with making you dance with me first, but I think we can skip that part today." His face was close enough to hers that she could feel his breath against her cheek.

"Okay, let's skip the dancing," she whispered, getting totally lost in his gaze.

Joe nodded, then put his other hand against the side of her neck, his thumb sweeping up to her cheek. "We'll start with this," he announced and leaned in – for a brief, gentle, teasing kiss. "And then we'll see..."

"Oh, what do you expect to see?" D inquired, managing to sound more amused than she felt. Somehow her knees felt just like that night after the grill party. If he had any idea how he got to her – with just one little kiss...

"I want to see if you'll actually let me sleep in your bed tonight, for instance," he whispered and leaned in again. Another kiss. More impact.

"In my bed?" D asked with fake confusion as he drew back a little to check how effective his persuasive arguments were so far.

"Mhmm," he nodded decisively, his eyes locking with hers. "In your bed. Not on the floor, not on the sofa, but in your bed."

"Well, we'll have to see..." she said generously. She pulled her hands out from behind her back and encouragingly patted his shoulders.

"Oh, you..." Joe blasted and leaned real close, wedging her between the door and himself. "What does that depend on, huh? Tell me..." He was nose to nose with her now, his lips only millimeters from hers.

"Oh, I don't know," she chuckled and put her hands around his face. "See if you can persuade me." She pulled his face closer and slid her mouth against his, teasingly parting his lips with her tongue.

It ignited a wild exchange of kisses during which Joe pulled his shirt out of his pants, brushed it up a little and then snuck his hand under the alligator T-shirt pushing it up far enough so he could feel the skin of her stomach against his. An amazing feeling that gave the kiss some extra kick. Sweet, warm, exciting...

It went on for a while, but then D needed some air.

"Okay, okay," she gasped, turning her face to the side a little and raising her hands in surrender. "Yes, you can sleep in my bed..."

"Good," he said contently and decided to use the opportunity of her arms being raised. "Maybe we could actually get rid of this T-shirt. We surely won't need it."

"You think so, huh?" she teased. But at the same time she let him pull the T-shirt over her head and up her arms that she was still holding up.

"I'm pretty sure, yeah..." His hands were slowly running up the outsides of her arms, the thumbs tucked under her T-shirt that was now somewhere just above her elbows.

"And there's quite a bit more to remove..." he said with a glance down at her bra.

His breath in her ears, D closed her eyes, felt his cheek against hers, finally his lips crushing on her mouth.

Breathtaking.

Dizzying.

Starting a fierce exchange of kisses that would have made the alligator blush if it hadn't been rolled up in the T-shirt.

Finally Joe drew back a little and gave them both a chance to catch their breaths.

D pulled her hands out of the T-shirt and flung it over his shoulder.

"It's kind of convenient that I've already got two pillows and a toothbrush here," he grinned and pulled her away from the door, against himself, his hands coming to rest on her hips and sliding up from there.

At the mention of the toothbrush, D faltered.

"What?" he gave her a questioning look. "What's wrong now?"

"Nothing," she said a little uncomfortably, her hands cupping his shoulders. She wasn't looking at him now.

"Call me paranoid, but I seem to sense an adverse change in climate."

"No, no change in climate," she said, "Just that... well, your toothbrush's gone."

"O-kay." His hands firmly on her hips again, he looked at her. "What did you do with it? Did you throw it away?"

She shook her head. "No, but..."

He lifted a hand to her chin. "Look at me and tell me what you did with my toothbrush." He gave her an exaggerated frown.

She shrugged and finally met his eyes. "I... I took your toothbrush to London with me and forgot it there."

He let out a surprised, little laugh. "Why would you take my toothbrush to London??? Don't you have your own?"

"I didn't take it with me to brush my teeth," she admitted grudgingly.

"Well, what else did you need it for?" He chuckled, obviously finding this amusing. "Or do I even want to know?"

A crooked, embarrassed smile appeared on her face. "If you still needed prove how pathetic I am sometimes, here it goes..." She drew in a deep breath. "I took your toothbrush to London with me because – at the time – you weren't picking up your phone. So I wanted something to–" she broke off and let out an embarrassed chuckle. "To hold on to, I guess." With that she gave him an insecure look. "You can start laughing now..."

Joe stared at her for a moment as the message was sinking in. Then he smiled. "That's kind of sweet," he said, "Not pathetic at all." He pulled her closer and buried his face against her neck. "So sweet..."

"Yeah, very sweet," D muttered, her hands hesitantly coming up to the back of his head again, her finger pushing into his hair. "Hahaha!"

"I mean it," whispered into her ear, "It's a little bit crazy but also very sweet." He came face to face with her again, one hand sliding against her cheek. "Especially that you would admit it."

He extended his thumb and ran it over her lips.

D gave him a smile – a smile that widened and grew overly-sweet as she started to bat her eyes at him as well. Then she snapped for his thumb.

He quickly pulled the thumb away and gave her a pouting look. "First my toothbrush, now my thumb..."

D laughed. Then she got on her toes, pulled his face closer and gave him a light, tempting kiss.

"I could assign you a toothbrush head for my electric toothbrush," she said.

"You would do that?" He pretended to incredibly touched.

"Mhmm."

"That's quite a step up from the other toothbrush I had before." He was nose to nose with her again.

"Mhmm."

They eventually made it to her bedroom. Peeling off clothes while trying to stay connected in a halfway uninterrupted kiss that alternated between teasing and dangerously greedy.

They ended up falling squarely onto the bed, with only some underwear still waiting to be removed.

"This time I actually brought some condoms," Joe breathed as he pulled her on top of himself and wrapped his arms around her.

"And I'm back on the pill..." she said.

~~~

20 minutes later:

"Hey, before you really fall asleep here," Joe whispered, running his hand over the arm she had draped across his chest. He was lying on his back with her snuggled up against him, her knees against his thigh, her toes pushing against his leg.

"What does G-I-D mean?"

"Huh?" She lifted her head enough to give him a puzzled look. "What's that supposed to be?"

"Pete's license plate." He cupped her elbow with his hand. "Says G-I-D 1..."

"Oh that!" She let her head fall back onto her pillow and chuckled. "Mr. Romance strikes again. Let's have a talk about Pete's license plate right now..." Her hand had slid under his arm and she was trying to tickle him.

He caught her hand and playfully slapped it back on his chest and fixated it there by putting his hand on top.

"I need to know that..." he insisted with an air of fake urgency.

"Oh, otherwise you can't sleep or what?" She laughed and playfully pushed him with her knee.

"No, I'll sleep just fine after the little exercise we just had. But I'd still like to know. I mean – I do have some theories, but –"

"Oh really? What did you come up with?"

He shrugged. "Giving it drive. Great idiot driving. Grave intelligence deficit. Growing in darkness..."

D giggled. "You're horrible."

"Yeah, well. What does it stand for then?"

"It means Getting it done."

"That's kind of boring." He seemed disappointed. "But thanks..."

~~~

1 hour later:

Still wide-awake, Joe lay in the darkness and listened to her breathing. She was asleep – surprisingly still facing him and with her hand on his chest.

This was the kind of moment he wished could be bottled. Exactly like that. He wouldn't change a thing...

He gingerly slipped his hand on top of hers – a touch that briefly made her stir and snort a little. It made him smile to himself. He actually still felt a bit high.

# Early Departure

(Sunday, September 8th)

Joe woke up from the mattress slightly bouncing.

As he opened his eyes, he realized that D had scooted over to her side, obviously intending to get out of bed. He got a hold of the hem of the alligator T-shirt she had put on sometime during the night and held her back.

"Oh no," she moaned and flopped back onto her pillow, "It's awake!"

"Of course it's awake," he boasted. "Don't even think about trying to escape!" He moved closer.

Releasing a theatrical, resigned breath, she draped an arm over her face.

"It's senseless..." she sighed.

"The sooner you realize it, the better." He grabbed her arm and pulled on it.

"Oh no," she moaned, but then turned to him.

"Trying to sneak away," Joe grumbled, "Tststs." His hand had relocated to her bottom and was sliding up to her hip.

"No, no, I had no such intentions," she assured him saintly. "I wouldn't even think of it."

"Good," he nodded, his eyes meshing with hers while he propped himself up a little.

She laughed. Then, turning more serious, she reached out and softly stroked his cheek. "I thought I'd let you sleep and –"

"Not asleep anymore," he interrupted with a dangerous snarl and lowered his face to her. As the tip of his nose was brushing hers he let his hand glide up under her T-shirt. "Not asleep at all..."

"Well, good then..." She was a little short of breath all of a sudden. "I was going to make you breakfast. But since now you're awake, you can actually make breakfast for me."

"Yeah, sure, I can do that," he said, "but first..." He leaned down for a kiss. A warm, soft kiss – while his hand under her shirt gently snuck against the side of her breast...

With his mouth moving against hers a bit more persuasively, his pelvis firmly against her hip – just the fabric of his boxers between them, D did get the hint where he wanted this to go, but then she broke the kiss and – chuckling hoarsely– turned her head away.

"Sorry, but..."

"Yes?" There was an accusing edge. She was in the process of destroying his great plan for some pre-breakfast sex. He just knew it.

"I need to go to the bathroom," she said apologetically. "Really. Desperately. Sorry..."

"Okay." He pulled back and let her sit up. "Do what you have to do and then come back..." He gave her hip a gentle rub as she slipped out of bed.

"We'll see..." she said with a wink over her shoulder.

When she returned two minutes later, he was sitting up against the headboard of her bed, his phone in his hand – a tense expression on his face.

D stopped beside the bed and put her hands on her hips. Waited.

He glanced up.

She shook her head and put on an exaggerated frown. "So, you're one of those people, too..."

"What? Which people?"

"The ones who check their e-mails in bed?"

Blowing out a breath, he nodded, his eyes still on the phone. Then he put it back on the bedside table. "Sorry. I'm usually not that way."

"That's what they all say," she teased and pretended to turn around to walk away again.

"Come back," Joe pleaded. "I'll be good. Already put it away."

"Too late," she raised her head, nose pointing up.

"Please, please, please," he begged, giving her a puppy look.

She shrugged, smiled and came back, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"I'm actually really hungry," she said softly and reached out to touch his face.

As his eyes met with hers, she leaned closer and kissed him.

Joe had caught her hand and pulled on it. "Come here," he said deviously. "And I mean a lot closer..."

"You think you're just irresistible, don't you?" she teased and climbed up on the bed.

"I actually just thought that about you and not about myself," he clarified.

"Yeah right." She laughed and slid one leg across his lap so she was straddling him.

"My God, you're so cold and heartless," he moaned and put his hands on her hips, thumbs already sneaking under the hem of her T-shirt again.

"If you don't stop complaining," she whispered and leaned down, brushing her lips against his.

Opening his mouth to hers, he pushed her T-shirt up and pulled her closer – her chest against his. Smooth, soft, warm breasts...

Her stomach growling loudly destroyed the moment.

With a resigned sigh, Joe pulled her T-shirt back down.

"Okay." He nodded. "I guess we should get up before that roaring gets any louder."

"Sorry." She gave him a quick compensation-kiss and climbed off the bed. "You can use the shower first. I'll make breakfast and then we can either continue this – or go to the lake or something."

Joe had rolled to the edge of the bed and swung his legs out. "I can't," he said, his gaze drifting to Robert's blue painting. "I'd love to, but I've got to go back to the office."

D stopped in the doorway. "Okay..." She was struggling for a light tone.

"No, it's not okay," he said, running his hands through his hair that was sticking up in places. "But I just have to." His gaze returned to her. "One of our customers has a major problem with a program – or actually the interaction of our program with the crap software they use otherwise."

"The person that came by on Friday?" she asked. "From Italy?"

He nodded bleakly. "I've kind of been working on a solution – to replace the other software they're using right now before an update of the R&D program will make the whole thing totally unstable." He pushed himself up from the bed and straightened out his boxers. "Anyway, I just saw that he sent an e-mail. They're having some unexpected problem, and now everything is stalled. So, I need to go back to the office and figure out some quick short-term solution – a patch or something – just to get them over the next week or so – until I'm done writing the other program and until someone can go there to install it."

D nodded and struggled to put a smile on her face.

"I would have loved going to the lake," he said with an apologetic shrug. "Haven't been there forever. But while I'm covering for Steve, I just can't. I'm sorry."

# Working

(Tuesday, September 10th)

It was Tuesday evening and Joe felt exhausted.

Ever since he had gotten to the office on Sunday, he had felt a bit like in a hamster wheel. He had spent Sunday creating an emergency patch that he had forwarded to Luca around midnight. The grateful response he had gotten Monday morning proved that it had worked and done the trick – for the moment at least – until the update in two weeks.

Monday had gone by very quickly, with several meetings in the morning and afternoon, and an evening spent working on the program for Luca.

Tuesday had started out with a meeting as well, but he could have gotten back to programming right afterwards and made some progress, had it not been for someone dropping by unannounced to see Steve and then stealing his time instead. It was one of the people Steve knew through his father – some VIP who thought he might want a special software for his very small business that he basically only ran for fun. Joe had been introduced to the guy before and knew that he came by every once in a while, supposedly to discuss options for the software he wanted, but without any plan even of such basics as what the program was supposed to accomplish. Joe always suspected that those people – and there was three or four of that kind – only came by to chat with Steve and be taken out for lunch.

With Steve being on vacation, Joe had had to deal with the middle-aged gentleman himself, whether he wanted to or not. He couldn't upset an old friend of the Davis family... So he asked the guy into his office, offered him coffee, small-talked with him for fifteen minutes or so and then suggested to go out for lunch together – Eric in tow.

It had been two in the afternoon by the time Eric and he had returned to the office.

Determined to finally get something done on his programming for Luca, he had consequently retreated to his office, announced that he didn't want to be disturbed unless there was a fire, had closed his office door and diverted his office phone. The mobile phone he had turned off.

He had worked feverishly until around six-thirty when Eric had dropped by to say that he was leaving for the day.

All alone at R&D after that, he had made himself a sandwich and given D a call. He had been looking forward to talking to her all day – like the bright light at the end of the tunnel.

Afterwards the call he felt worse than before, however. The conversation, even though sweet and nice and everything (or exactly because of that) had left him feeling miserable. Talking just didn't do it. Especially if they were both tired and worn out from work, trying to sound chipper, and attempting to make the five minutes on the phone a great experience. It wasn't great. It was crap. He hated it. Hadn't it been a two hour drive to Innsbruck, and hadn't he still had to work on his program some more, he might have just spontaneously taken off to spend the night at her place.

Instead he carried on with his work for a few more hours.

When, around 10:50 pm, he almost nodded off at his desk, he finally decided to go to bed.

Rubbing his eyes, he shut down his computer and got up from his chair.

He took his mobile phone and read the short message again that D had sent half an hour ago:

Going to bed now. I miss you.

D

He released a slow, restrained breath. It almost physically hurt to look at that text. Apparently that's what missing someone felt like. He hadn't experienced this kind of thing in a very long time. He absolutely hated it!

# Change of Plans

(Wednesday, September 11th)

On Wednesday morning Joe overslept. It was the main door outside his office that woke him up around seven-thirty. He had forgotten to set his alarm.

He stumbled out of bed, quickly slipped into pants and a fresh shirt, decided to skip the shaving for today – no meetings, only programming planned – and hurriedly put away the bedding.

Two minutes later the bed was turned into just a sofa again, the room was aired out and he had gotten himself a cup of coffee from the kitchen and was munching cookies while turning on his computer.

There was a new e-mail from Luca in response to some questions he had sent him a day earlier.

After quickly browsing through the content, Joe decided to print the e-mail out.

He was just swiveling around on his chair to retrieve the printouts from behind him, when his phone beeped with a text message coming in.

From Steve.

The printouts still in hand, Joe read what Steve had texted.

Joe,

Looks like we're stuck here at least until Friday. Some volcano blew out just enough ash for air traffic to be closed down now. They are predicting an improvement on Friday, so we'll see.

I'll keep you updated. Hope things are going okay. Will I still see you next week? Would be great.

Steve

Glaring at the screen, Joe considered this for a moment. Then he replied:

Hi Steve,

Hope you can get out of there on Friday then. I'll stick around, so don't worry. Will be back at least for Monday and Tuesday next week then.

Everything's fine here. Program for Luca is as good as finished. Should work. Someone will have to go to Florence and install it. We can talk about it when you're back.

Joe

Prompt response:

Thanks so much and see you Monday.

Joe:

Okay. Say Hi to Susan.

~~~

D was just typing an e-mail to the accounting department, inquiring about an open invoice, when a new e-mail came in, the notification briefly flaring up in the right hand corner of her screen.

From: JReilley@ReillyandDavis.com

Subject: Test

Her heart skipping a beat, she interrupted her typing and opened the message.

Hi,

Hope this address works.

Let me know.

Joe

She responded:

Works fine. What's up?

D

It sounded a lot cooler than she felt. She had never received an e-mail from his work before. Gazing at the @ReilleyandDavis, she sucked in her lower lip and felt a strange pang of unease. There it was – the name of the company he owned together with Liz's brother...

Suddenly there was another message from him:

Steve just wrote. He's stuck because of some volcano and too much ash in the air. So, I guess I'll be here until Friday. And then at least Monday and Tuesday next week as well.

This actually really sucks... Miss you!

Joe

Scratching her left eyebrow, D read through the message twice, her feelings very mixed: thrilled at the miss you part, frustrated and disappointed at the rest, and at the same time angry at herself for feeling that way.

She wrote:

Hi,

Can't wait to see you Friday, then. Let's do something fun. Any ideas?

D

Prompt response:

I'll come up with something ;)))

# Visitor

(Thursday, September 12th)

Unbuttoning his shirt, Joe went over to the sofa and fished the bedding out from the compartment underneath. It was Thursday evening and he had just finished writing the program for Luca. He'd check it again tomorrow, but he felt really good about it – thrilled, in fact. It was finally done!

With a few quick moves he turned the sofa into a bed and put the bedding on.

He was just turning around to pick up his toiletry case from the floor when something that he had only registered from the corner of his eye made him whisk around.

He squinted in disbelief, his stomach knotting.

There was someone standing in his open office door.

Liz.

She was wearing a short, super-tight green satin dress, high heel sandals and a glittery little purse. Her lips were freshly painted in a bright red.

"Hi, Honey," she chirped.

Joe swallowed hard, still kind of hoping that this was just some freaky nightmare that he would wake up from any second. But as the cloud of heavy, flowery perfume reached him now, he knew that this nightmare was unfortunately very real.

"What the hell?" he growled through gritted teeth.

Liz looked back at him wordlessly, a corner of her mouth lifting and her head tilting to the side. She was giving him this look. Triumphant? Challenging? Seductive?

"How did you get in here?"

Shrugging, she closed the door behind herself and strolled a few steps into the room. "Steve's card was lying around when I watered the plants." She leaned against the file cabinet, her hand leisurely tracing the edge. "So, I thought, since you're probably here..."

"Oh, so you thought, since I'm probably here, why not just come by?"

She dropped her gaze.

"I needed to see you," she said quietly and crossed her arms over her chest. "Sometimes I don't even know what you look like anymore and - I feel so bad about..." She broke off and swallowed. "About us..."

Joe coughed. "Oh give me a break!"

"It's true," she insisted, her eyes suddenly shiny with tears. "Sometimes –" she stammered. "Sometimes I miss you so much."

"How can you miss me when there's great guys like fantastic Bob around?" Joe inquired, his tone cutting.

He had taken a few steps back so he could perch on his desk while keeping a close eye on her across the room.

"Honey, please..." Her voice was whiny now. "Don't be like that. I know you're hurt and, well, the thing with your hand and your car..."

"I'm not hurt!" He laughed angrily. "I'm great. Couldn't be better. Or actually – I was doing great until two minutes ago."

He tried to keep his calm, but it wasn't easy. Her showing up here actually freaked him out quite a bit. And he really wished he hadn't already unbuttoned his shirt earlier. Thank God he was still wearing his pants.

"Why don't you go home and call Bob, and let me go to sleep here?"

Liz's expression seemed to have slipped at his comment.

"Bob's – how should I say? –" She had started to slowly stroll further into the room while she spoke. "He's nice and all..." She kept her eyes fixed on Joe. "And he's inventive and..." She exhaled and swallowed theatrically. "But he's not you."

Joe frowned. What was that supposed to mean?

"I would think that's a good thing," he retorted drily.

"Not necessarily," she said with a meaningful bat of her eyes.

"Huh?" Joe couldn't help finding this interesting, even though he knew he shouldn't give a damn.

Liz shrugged again. Smiled. Then she slowly ran the tip of her tongue over her upper lip, never leaving him out of her sight. She was standing close to the bed now. "He's probably doing his best," she said generously. "And he's definitely got his ways, but sometimes it kind of shows that he's not that young anymore." There was an air of confidentiality in the way she said it.

Joe coughed out a laugh. "Oh, did you catch him popping Viagra?"

Liz' eyes narrowed.

"Well, he leads an exhausting life," Joe mocked before she could say anything. "You and Linda. That would wear anyone out! Poor Bob. Not so fantastic after all..."

"Don't be such an asshole!" she hissed.

"Well, sorry," he laughed, "but that's just what I am. You told me often enough. That's why I can't figure out what the hell you're doing here. Because I surely don't want you here!"

Totally ignoring what he had said, Liz sat down on the bed. "I knew you'd be here," she said sweetly and with some satisfaction.

"Well, you should probably join the CIA, then" he retorted. "They need people just like you."

She laughed, missing or ignoring the sarcasm.

"It's cozy..." she said and ran her hands over the sheets.

"Leave," Joe said.

"Funny," she said lightly as if she hadn't heard him. "Seems like we fucked pretty much anywhere but here."

He felt his throat tighten. This was the blunt introduction to what she was here for.

"I want you to leave," he said sharply, hoping that he sounded more in command than he felt.

With a confident smile Liz shook her head. "I didn't leave the gallery party early to be sent home alone by you."

"Well, call Bob or Eric, or maybe what's-his-name from upstairs is still up..."

"Don't tell me that you don't sometimes miss our little games," Liz purred looking straight at him.

He shook his head, trying hard to hold her gaze. "Nope!"

She tilted her head. "Really?" Then, she reached behind herself and pulled the zipper on her dress down.

"Man, Liz," Joe said as bored as he could, when her brushing the dress over her shoulders and it falling down to her waist now, revealing her bare ample breasts, had some extremely unwelcome effects on body parts below the belt.

"Yes, Honey?" she batted her eyes.

"Put that back on," he told her through gritted teeth.

She smiled. "Maybe later." She lifted her hips off the bed and pulled the dress down until she could step out of it.

Joe swallowed – and felt incredibly relieved to see that she was fortunately still wearing a little thong at least. Not that it was much, but as the dress had slipped down her hips, he had been prepared for the worst.

"Get out," he snarled, trying to keep his eyes on her face. "Put that dress back on and get out!"

Chuckling, she flopped back on the bed, arms above her head for maximum effect, and slowly opened her legs. "So, now tell me again that you're not in a mood for a good fuck!"

Tensely running a hand over his forehead, Joe huffed out a breath. "Thanks, but no thanks!" he said as firmly as he could.

Liz sat up again and gave him a skeptical look. "How come? Don't tell me you're really back together with that uptight bitch and faithful till death do us part?" There was a nasty little laugh.

Joe rolled his eyes and scoffed, keeping himself from pointing out to her that uptight and bitch were an unlikely combination, and that neither of these attributes applied to Danny.

"Come on, Honey," Liz had gotten up and was coming towards him in her high heels – swaying her hips and running her hands with those long pink fingernails up her stomach just below her breasts, her thumbs pushing up and circling her nipples.

Joe felt his mouth go dry and his mind turn a little cloudy, as quite a bit of blood seemed to be diverted from his brain much further down. He tried to pull himself together. This absolutely could not be happening! He could pretend all he wanted that this didn't get to him. When it came to these kinds of things, Liz was an expert. And with her eyes fixed on his crotch now, she knew exactly that she was having some effect.

She smiled contently as her eyes flickered up to his face for a moment.

"Just go away," he hissed angrily. He didn't quite know what to do. He could hardly run away from her here and hide.

She had almost reached him and was just extending a hand, probably to brush his shirt aside, when he stopped her – one hand on her shoulder, the other hand grabbing the wrist of her extended arm. "Okay, now listen," he said in a restrained voice, his expression hard. "I want you to get dressed and to leave me alone. Do you hear me?"

She laughed. And before he knew what was happening, she had somehow shifted, reached out her free hand and gently placed it against his crotch – sliding it down with a well-measured amount of pressure. He gasped, got hold of that hand as well and pulled it up.

"Seems like not all of you wants me to leave," she whispered with a smug smile. Surprisingly she wasn't putting up any resistance or trying to pull her hands free just yet. "How about we start out with a little warm up?" She licked her lips. "You know that I give the best blow jobs..."

"Stop that crap!" He let go of both her hands so suddenly that it must have caught her totally by surprise. So much that it made her lose her balance. The next thing he knew, was that she was stumbling and falling backwards. It seemed to be happening in slow-motion. Her swaying away from him, rowing her arms in an attempt to regain her balance, gasping, eyes wide. Then one of her heels got caught in her crumpled dress on the floor, and she totally lost her balance, a weird little shriek escaping her.

Joe got hold of her before she could hit the floor. His hand tightly gripping her upper arm, he managed to yank her back into an upright position in the very last second.

For a few moments they just stood there – Joe still holding on to her arm, staring at her blankly while trying to catch his breath, and Liz glaring back at him, panting and looking strangely stunned.

When, after a few seconds of recovery, her expression suddenly changed and something like melancholy crept into her look, Joe quickly released her arm and took a step away from her.

He snatched her dress from the floor and held it out to her. "Here," he said firmly. "You get into that dress right now and leave."

"Joe, Honey –" she started

"Get dressed or I'll just kick you out as you are," he threatened. "I don't care. And I mean it!" He threw the dress onto the bed and angrily shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants, taking a step away.

Staring at him, Liz seemed to be weighing how serious he was. Suddenly her eyes filled with tears and she hiccupped – introducing the sobbing phase.

"Liz," Joe growled. "You've got twenty seconds. Either you get into that dress now or you'll be standing out in the stairways without it. And by the way, the office downstairs is a call center, so there are people there all night." He paused, then grinned. "Maybe you'd just like to try your luck there."

"You're disgusting!" She snatched her dress from the bed.

Keeping an eye on her getting dressed, he took her purse from his pillow where she had dropped it earlier and picked through the contents until he found Steve's key card.

"I'll keep that," he told her grimly and placed the card on his desk.

Liz was still fiddling with the zipper of her dress.

Wordlessly, he came over, stepped behind her and zipped the dress up all the way. Then, already moving away from her again, he handed her her purse. "Here..."

She took it with an angry snort.

"Okay, let's go," he said with an air of determination and started heading towards his office door. He pushed it open and impatiently motioned for her to get moving.

Giving him a narrow-eyed look, she drew closer. She didn't seem in any particular hurry, though.

Making sure she was following him, even if just slowly and reluctantly, Joe proceeded to the main door. He opened it and then stood stone-faced as she shuffled across the hallway.

"Bye now," he said and gestured for her to get out.

"I hate you," Liz hissed as she strutted by him to the elevator, her high heels clunking loudly on the marble floor.

"I wish you did," he muttered tiredly and closed the door behind her.

# Accident

(Very early Friday, September 13th)

Joe had a rough night.

Liz's visit haunted him.

First by keeping him from falling asleep, then by replaying in his dreams in a decisively more R-rated version than had really happened.

At three in the morning he woke up from yet another one of these troubling dreams, bathed in sweat, the faint picture of Liz still swirling in his head – Liz on her knees here in his office, every bit of clothing shed and her hands – and mouth – on him.

Wide awake now and reluctant to go back to sleep and possibly dream the sequel, he blew out a breath and tried to find comfort and relief in the fact that things hadn't gotten as far in real life. Thank God he had kicked her out before anything could happen.

However, her having walked around practically naked in his office had left him feeling guilty in a weird way – even hours later.

He would have liked to think that he had seen or heard the last of her now, but he knew that wasn't the case. Steve's and Susan's wedding was coming up in five weeks, and he had agreed to be Steve's best man. There was no way he'd be able to totally avoid the groom's sister at an event like this.

The pure thought of the wedding made him grind his teeth. There were going to be lots of people, of course, and plenty of alcohol – a very dangerous mix when it came to Liz.

He knew her well enough. She loved having an audience when she made scenes. And chances were that a few drinks and having him there, would get her in just the right mood to make a scene. She wouldn't give a damn then that she might spoil her brother's grand day in the process.

Gnawing on the inside of his cheek, Joe considered this. He couldn't think of any way to avoid the foreseeable trouble at that wedding. Maybe he should seriously think about telling Steve that he couldn't do the best man thing after all. Not just for his own sake but for Susan's and Steve's as well.

Experience had shown what Liz was capable of. Her calling Anja with everyone around, to announce that she was pregnant, had been the perfect, freaky example. She had gotten into his e-mail account, found the list with his friends' e-mail addresses and phone numbers and the rough schedule for the weekend, and then she had called Anja while they'd all been having dinner. He had been lucky she hadn't called Danny instead.

His stomach twisted. It had suddenly come back to him that Liz had Danny's phone number. And her e-mail address.

~~~

The phone call came early Friday morning.

At first Joe didn't even realize that it was his mobile phone ringing. He had fallen asleep again and his mind was perfectly incorporating the ringtone into his dream – as the noise of a big truck backing up. It must have already rung about seven times when he finally woke up enough to start drowsily tapping his hand on the floor in search of the phone. He got a hold of it just before the call could be diverted to voicemail.

"Danny?" He still wasn't totally awake when he picked up. "What time is it? How are you?" Somehow his mouth seemed to omit things here without his brain really involved yet.

"Sorry for waking you up," her voice was stuffy.

"What's wrong?" He pushed himself up into a sitting position, his heart having stopped for a moment. Maybe Liz had already...?

"Robert just called," D croaked, having trouble getting the words out. "Mom and Dad had an accident."

"Shit!" Joe pinched the bridge of his nose. "How...?"

"They were on their way home from their friends and –" she gasped, barely suppressing a sob, then she noisily cleared her throat. "I don't know – sounds like some idiot ran into them."

Closing his eyes, Joe made a split-second prayer before he asked the unavoidable, "How bad is it?"

A sob on the other end made his stomach drop.

"I don't really know yet..." she sniveled. "It sounded pretty bad."

On his end of the line, Joe placed his thumb and index finger against his closed eyelids, trying to come up with something good to say that wouldn't sound shallow.

"There's a call coming in," she interrupted his thoughts. "I'll call you back later, okay?" And she was gone.

When she called back a few minutes later, Joe was sitting at his desk in only his boxers and checked his calendar. There were two meetings during the morning that he could impossibly skip while Steve was gone, and then there was the weekly, general office meeting in the early afternoon.

"I'm really sorry for waking you up like that," D said, sounding a little more in control now.

"Don't worry about me," he told her. "Was that Robert?"

"Mhmm." She cleared her throat. "He's at the hospital. And Ann. Seems like Mom's out of danger, but..." Her voice cracked dangerously, and the rest came out staggered and choked. "But Dad's still in critical condition. And they are worried about his heart if they do surgery..."

Joe released a slow breath. "It'll be okay," he said with all the conviction he could muster. "He'll be okay!"

"I hope so," she said thickly.

"I really wish I wasn't stuck here with three fucking meetings," he muttered.

"Don't worry about it. I just... I just wanted to hear you, I guess. And there's not much you could do – even if you were here..."

"Maybe not," he grumbled. "But still... It fucking sucks!"

She chuckled weakly. "It's sooo nice and heartwarming to hear you swear a bit."

He let out a little, slightly embarrassed chuckle. "Any fucking time..."

"Thanks." She drew in a long breath. "I'll drive to Salzburg now," Already sent June – that's my colleague at work – a message that I need to take today off. Still have some comp time."

"That's good," he said.

"Yeah, but..." she hesitated. "I don't know if or when I'll be back in Innsbruck this weekend."

Joe bit down on his lip. "If you need to stay, you need to stay," he said. "And eat some breakfast before you go, okay?"

"I can't eat anything right now."

"Well, try at least. And drive safely. Send me a text when you get there. Okay?"

There was a faint sniffle. "Okay."

"And, hey," he said before she could hang up. "I love you. Or sorry. Of course what I meant to say way: Shit Danny, I love you..."

"Mhmm." It was all she could mumble or she would have burst out into tears.

~~~

D had driven for sixty minutes with at least thirty still left to go. It was the worst drive of her life. She had no idea what she was going to find once she arrived.

She tried to keep her spirits up and her mind on the road, but it kept wandering off to the dark side of worst case scenarios, all of which basically meant the end of life as she knew it – a life with a supportive family close-by. A family that had – after her Dad's successful battle against cancer last year – only just returned to being happy and healthy.

This accident could change it all.

She wished Robert would call with good news. But she realized that Robert probably didn't have any news right now.

She tried to sit straight and loosen her shoulders and neck a bit. The anxiety made her so tense. It was already starting to cause the dreaded, but very familiar pressure in her head that sometimes led to a full-fledged migraine attack – the deadly mix of paralyzing headaches and nausea. She really couldn't deal with something like that today on top of everything else. And she had left her magic headache drops at the office. She should probably ask for a pill or something once she got to the hospital.

At nine-thrity D was walking down a hospital corridor with blue walls. She was looking for room number 56 – her Mom's room, according to the message Robert had sent her while she had been on the road.

Trying to zone out her headache that seemed to be thumping exactly underneath her right eyebrow now, she kept walking.

She was scared to death.

When she passed doors 46, 48 and 50 she could feel her throat tighten. Her knees were getting weak as she passed doors 52 and 54. And there was 56.

"Danielle."

She whisked around and found Robert coming towards her. He was carrying a small tray with three cups of coffee and a package of cookies.

He looked tired, but he smiled. "Hi," holding the tray to the side, he gave her a peck on the cheek. "I didn't think you'd be that fast. Otherwise we would have waited with the coffee."

"I don't want anything," she said, realizing that she didn't even want to look at the coffee, as the pure thought of drinking any made her stomach stir.

"How are they?"

Dropping his gaze to the tray, Robert drew in a quick breath. "Mom's just got a few bruises and a slight concussion from what it looks like," he said. "They want to watch her at least until Sunday, but it looks good." He paused and then looked up at her. "Dad's not too good, though," he said cautiously. "But they decided to do the surgery now anyway. Pushed him in twenty minutes ago."

D felt her heart drop. "What kind of surgery?"

"Well, the left leg's broken, but the way I understood it, the surgery is mainly for his hip."

"Okay," D nodded. "I thought they were so worried about his heart and the anesthesia. Is it a good sign then, that they're doing it?"

Robert shrugged uncertainly. "Maybe. It kind of sounded like it." He turned to the door. "We'll just have to wait and see I'm afraid."

D nodded again, struggling to seem composed. In reality, she wasn't even sure her brain was processing anything at the moment as her headache was starting to drive her crazy. But she could hardly go and look for medication for herself now, when there was much bigger problems at hand...

She opened the door for Robert.

"Danielle's here," he announced as he entered the room. "And here's the coffee you ordered." He set the tray down on Mom's bed table.

Mom was sitting in her bed, propped up against some pillows.

"Darling," she beamed at D and extended her arms.

"Mom," D smiled, trying not to show the shock she felt at seeing her mother so pale and bruised. Gingerly she put her arms around her, catching a trace of the familiar perfume. It almost brought her to tears.

"She looks worse than she is," Robert said and took a coffee cup from the tray. Ann had stepped away from the window and came over.

"Hi Ann," D hugged Ann. Her headache had meanwhile turned into a sharp, extremely distracting pain.

"Are you sure you don't want any coffee?" Robert asked. "Ann can have mine, I don't really need –"

"No thanks," D muttered and watched Robert give a cup to Ann, and Mom taking a sip of hers. The smell of the coffee was suddenly getting overwhelming. Nauseating. Horrified she realized that it was way too late to throw anything in for the headache now. Just imagining chocking anything down, made her stomach lurch.

"You don't look good at all," Mom said from the bed. "Are you alright?"

D was just about to put on a good show and tell her mother that those who were lying in the hospital bed themselves shouldn't try to diagnose people that had just come to visit, but then another spell of nausea and a numbing flash of pain in her head made her clutch her hand to her mouth, and she stumbled across the room and fled into the small bathroom that was connected to it.

Half a minute later, she was kneeling in front of the toilet, trying to catch her breath and her hands clutching her head as if that would keep it from exploding.

Her whole body was shaky from throwing up – and there hadn't even really been anything to throw up beside a few sips of orange juice that she had had this morning to rinse down the birth control pill.

Her stomach convulsing in another bout of nausea, D coughed and pressed the hand against her head harder, making a mental note to herself that she better not rely on the contraceptive effect of the pill after this. The dissolved remains had probably just been puked out and flushed down.

Hunched over, she leaned her elbows on the toilet seat and buried her forehead in her hands. She only realized that tears had shot into her eyes when one was already rolling along her nose to the tip and then fell into the water in the toilet, little waves rippling around the point of impact. Drained as she felt, she didn't even try to fight the tears. It was pathetic, of course. What was she even crying about? Her parents? That excruciating headache that seemed marginally better after throwing up? Joe, who she'd probably not even see this weekend? The thought of him made her eyes overflow. She frantically reached for the toilet paper and tore off a few pieces to dab her face and her eyes with.

# There's Someone Here for You

(Friday, September 13th)

Joe exited the Autobahn at four-twenty in the afternoon. The area where D's parents lived hadn't changed much since he had last been here. He found his way easily.

He had decided to check her parents' house first as that lay on the way to the hospital. It was unlikely that she was here, but he didn't feel really comfortable just showing up at the hospital. Maybe he shouldn't have come at all, but the idea had suddenly popped up, and he hadn't been able to stop himself.

He hadn't heard anything from her except for a very short text message saying that she had arrived safely, and that she'd call him later.

She hadn't called again so far and his own calls had gone unanswered. He took that as a sign that she was in the hospital and things might not be going well at all.

He had cut his attendance of the afternoon meeting very short. Eric had been a little irritated since normally, when Steve chaired these office meetings, they would have lengthy discussions about anything anyone could possibly come up with. Twenty minutes into the meeting, Joe had decided that everything that really required his presence had been said and done. He had put Eric in charge of the rest of the meeting and excused himself with the announcement that he needed to take care of some important personal matters.

He had given Sarah a quick call to let her know what was going on and had headed south.

And here he was...

He walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. It felt weird to be standing here again – after three and a half years.

The house still looked the same but deserted. It was what he had expected and maybe even wanted. Maybe he should just go and wait at some café until she called him back? She must see the missed calls at some point.

He was about to walk back to his car, when he heard something from inside the house. Someone was here after all.

He could feel his heart pick up speed as a key was turned and then the door opened. And there was D's brother, Robert, holding an unzipped toiletry case in his left hand, a woman's shower gel in the other and looking somewhat baffled once he realized who was standing in front of him.

"Joe..." he said a little incredulously.

"Hi," Joe said with an uncertain smile.

"Hi," Robert replied, his tone not unfriendly. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm..." Joe realized that he was very unprepared for this question. "I've heard about your parents," he finally said, not seeing any sense in beating around the bush. "Danny called me this morning."

Robert's expression showed that he was slowly putting two and two together. He still looked a little taken aback, but his eyebrows had started to rise. "Does that mean that you two are talking again?" There was a slightly amused twitch around his mouth.

"Talking – yeah," Joe nodded, unable to suppress an awkward chuckle. "As hard to believe as it might be, we're talking again. And..." He scratched his head and then shrugged. "I'm sorry for just showing up like this."

"Why? No need to be sorry." Robert dropped the shower gel in the toiletry case. Then he extended his free right hand and smiled. "It's great to see you. Really! I just didn't know – obviously."

Joe nodded, feeling incredibly relieved at the friendly reception. He had always liked Robert.

"How are your parents?" he asked.

"I think they'll be okay," Robert said, more serious now. "I hope so, at least. It didn't look so good in the early morning, but now... Mom's just bruised and banged up a bit, and Dad just got out of surgery. Haven't really heard much yet, but it seems like it went well. So..." He blew out a breath. "Guess we can only hope he'll be okay."

Joe nodded. "Yeah."

"I'm just getting some stuff that Mom wanted for the hospital," Robert explained with a glance at the toiletry case.

"Do you need help with anything?"

Robert shook his head. "No, that's alright," he said. "Thanks, though... You probably wanna go and see Danielle –"

"Is she at the hospital?"

"No, she's at our place," Robert said. "At Ann's and mine. She didn't feel good earlier. Bad headache and she was throwing up, so... Probably the nerves. I sent her home with Ann."

"Crap," Joe mumbled.

"You can just go over there if you want," Robert told him. "Really."

Joe thought about it for a moment. "Yeah, maybe," he said then. "I tried to call her earlier. Couldn't reach her. That's why I'm here actually." He let out a tense little chuckle. "I'm not even sure how much she'll like my showing up here. And my revealing that – well, that we're talking again, but..." Instead of finishing his sentence, he shrugged.

Robert laughed. "Yeah, well, that secret's out now! She'll have to live with it. She probably had the phone turned off or didn't hear it. Just go over there... She'll like it."

"Yeah, after grumbling a bit," Joe grinned.

"Well, that's what she does," Robert shrugged.

Joe laughed.

"Where do you live?" he asked then.

"Do you remember the Italian restaurant that we went to for Danielle's birthday that one year?"

"The one just outside the park?" Joe asked.

Robert nodded. "We live straight across the street from that. It's a green building, five story. I'll call Ann and tell her that you're coming, okay?"

"Okay." Joe said. "Thanks."

"No problem. I'll see you later then?"

"Yeah, probably..."

"Stick around, okay?" Robert said with a smile. "I'll be there in an hour max. And I'm bringing take-out pizza. You're very welcome to join us."

~~~

Drowsily D sat up on the sleeper sofa in Robert and Ann's crowded office that sometimes functioned as a guest room. After her embarrassing trip to the hospital bathroom, Robert had sent her home with Ann, while he had insisted on staying with Mom a little longer before going to their parents' house to collect a few things Mom needed.

At first she had tried to put up some resistance, claimed that she was okay and wanted to help, but when another wave of nausea had made her feel as if the room was spinning, she had given up.

At the flat Ann had directed her to the guest room, handed her a pillow and a blanket, pulled the shutters down and told her to just holler if she needed anything.

She must have fallen asleep. There was still a faint thumping in her head but nothing like the earthquake from earlier. And the nausea was gone.

In the kitchen Ann was unloading the dishwasher.

"Are you feeling any better?" she asked, as D appeared in the doorway.

"Yeah." D nodded uncomfortably. "I'm really sorry. I can't believe I was such a wreck..."

"One way of the body to force you to slow down, probably," Ann said with a sympathetic smile.

"Unfortunately that kind of thing comes out of the blue and slows me down to absolutely nothing..." D said apologetically.

"Glad you feel better, though." Ann closed the dishwasher.

"Yeah." D nodded. "Is there any news?"

"Robert called forty minutes ago or so from the hospital," Ann said. "He's bringing your Mom the stuff she wanted form the house. And seems like he had a chance to talk to the doctor that operated on your Dad. The surgery apparently went well, and they think there'll be a full recovery. He'll need some time and physiotherapy, of course, but it sounds good."

D released a sigh of relief. "Thank God. I was sooo scared."

"Yeah, I know. Us too. But it sounds like the worst is over." Ann smiled. "And Rob should be back in a few minutes. He's bringing pizza."

"Oh, okay. Sounds really good – unexpectedly." A few hours ago just the mention of pizza might have made her feel like throwing up. Now she was actually hungry again.

"Do you want me to set the table or something?" she asked.

Ann shook her head. "No, that's fine, I already did."

"Okay," D said. "Then I guess I'm totally useless today." She walked over to the kitchen bench where she had placed her purse earlier.

"Your phone rang once or twice," Ann said, obviously guessing that that's what D was about to check. "But before you call anyone back, you may want to go outside on the balcony. There's someone waiting there for you."

D faltered. "What? Who?"

"Nice, handsome guy," Ann said with a wink. "Came in a sand-colored Volvo. And he didn't want to wake you up."

~~~

Blinking against the evening sun that made the faint pain in her head flare up again for a moment D pushed the balcony door open.

Joe was sitting on the chair right beside the door, his head against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and his eyes closed.

"Hey..." She gently touched his shoulder.

He jerked up, his eyes flying open. "Hi," he said dazedly and looked up at her. "Must have nodded off."

"Are you stalking me again?" she asked with a little smile.

He chuckled and took her free hand. "Yeah, I just decided to skip the white bathrobe this time."

She laughed. "I doubt Ann would have let you in in a bathrobe."

"Don't think so, huh?" He gave her a puppy look and got up from his chair.

"I'm pretty sure she would have found it suspicious," she said, trying to hold his gaze when his draping his arms around her waist actually made her heart skip a beat.

"I think she would have let me in, no matter what," he announced with a smirk, one of his hands running up her back.

"Oh, and why is that?" she challenged and put her arms around him.

"Because your brother explicitly told her to let me in?" he suggested.

"Oh, you saw Robert too?" she seemed surprised.

"I went by your parents' house first," he explained and pulled her a little closer. "I couldn't reach you by phone..." He slid one of his hands against her face and there seemed to be a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "If you intended to keep me a secret, I blew it, just so you know."

"That's horrible," she said in a somewhat bored tone that contradicted the message. "How could you do that to me?" Her fingertips were tracing his collar in the back.

"Your brother seemed quite thrilled to see me," Joe informed her. "I was very flattered."

"I'm sure he was thrilled to see you," D said. "And he'll be even more thrilled to make fun of me."

"Why would he do such a thing?" Joe inquired with fake sympathy.

"Because the last thing he knows is that I hate you and I didn't want to see you."

"Oh. Really?" Joe raised his eyebrows extra-questioningly. "When was that?"

"Before the grill party," she replied a little stubbornly.

"Oh that!" He laughed. "Well, I didn't really want to see you then either. But we can always change our minds, right? I've totally changed my mind..." His hand from her cheek was slowly sliding back to the nape of her neck, his eyes flickering to her mouth.

"Yeah, me too," she said lightly, pushed both her hands into his hair and tilted her head so she could meet his lips as he leaned in to kiss her – a warm, long, drawn-out and breathtaking kiss.

"Can't believe you're here," she whispered and buried her face against his neck.

"Was a spur of the moment decision," he said and leaned his cheek against her head. "A weekend in Innsbruck without you, didn't sound good at all."

"That's nice," she said – realizing at the same time that nice was quite an understatement.

"How generous of you to find that nice," Joe grumbled, feigning disappointment.

She lifted her head and glanced up at him. Then she smiled, got on her toes and gave him a quick, gentle kiss. "It's much better than nice, of course..."

"Thank you..."

"Welcome." She got on her toes again for another kiss.

"I thought you had meetings," she said then, running her fingers along the top of his collar.

"I did have meetings," he said and leaned his head back a little, so he could briefly trap one of her fingers between his neck and the collar. "I just didn't stay until the end."

"You'll lose your job if you do that kind of thing," she teased, pulling her finger out and continuing to trace the collar to the front.

"I won't lose my job," Joe assured her. "I know the owners..."

D laughed. "So I heard." She rolled the top button of his shirt between her fingers.

There was a moment of relaxed silence between them.

"Sounds like your parents are going to be okay," he said then.

"Sounds like it, yeah." She nodded without looking up. "Thank God... I was so scared."

"I know," he said and placed a kiss on her temple. "How are you doing now?" He had put one of his hands around hers that was playing with his button. "Robert said you weren't feeling well." He snuck his thumb against her palm and playfully poked her with the fingernail.

"I'm fine," she claimed and closed her hand around his thumb. "Just had a headache.

"That kind of head would probably hurt on anyone," he contemplated.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She gave him a dark look squeezed his thumb harder.

He laughed, pulled his thumb out of her grip and flattened her hand against his chest by placing his own palm on top. With the arm around her waist he pulled her closer. For another short, deep kiss.

"Are you staying?" D asked then, her eyes locking with his.

"I don't know..." he said undecidedly. "I could, of course, but I don't really want to stay here." He nudged his head towards the balcony door behind her.

"Did you bring your stuff?" she asked. "I mean – clothes and all that?"

"Yeah," Joe nodded. "I brought everything, because – initially – I was going to Innsbruck for the weekend. Brought quite a bit of stuff that I wanted to wash at Sarah's. So – I don't know."

"Well, I'm just here at Robert's because I didn't want to stay at my parents' house all by myself. But if it's with you – we can go over there."

His gaze trailing to the side, he shrugged, still unconvinced.

"Or are you scared of my family?" she frowned. "When you're already such good friends with Robert?"

He laughed. "I've never been scared of your family. The only scary thing about your family has always been you..."

Scoffing, she balled her free hand, that had been sitting on his shoulder, to a tight little fist and waved it in front of his nose before gently nudging his chin with it.

He grimaced as if in pain. "See, that's exactly what I meant. Plain scary..."

She laughed, unclenched the fist and gently ran her thumb over his jaw. "So, you wanna stay at Mom and Dad's?" she asked, more serious again. "My room?"

Slowly he nodded. "Okay."

"Good," she smiled contently.

When they heard the patio door open behind them, they turned around.

Robert was sticking out his head and grinned.

"Pizza time!"

~~~

Not even twenty minutes later they had finished almost all the pizza Robert had brought.

So far the conversations had only been about Mom and Dad. Everything sounded good. Mom would probably be released on Sunday.

Now, with the way Robert was eyeing her across the table, a grin spreading across his face despite the warning, dark look she was giving him, D knew exactly what was coming.

"It's kind of nice to have him back," Robert said, nudging his head towards Joe beside her.

"Robert..." D drawled, whishing her brother would just keep his mouth shut for once.

D knew that he just loved this. Winding her up... She couldn't even really blame him. She would probably give him a hard time as well.

Joe's letting out a sarcastic little laugh beside her, pulled her out of her considerations and made her whisk around to him. She found him looking back at her with a very fake, very sad expression. "Don't you at least agree that it's kind of nice to have me back?" He asked and batted his eyes at her.

Across the table Robert and Ann burst out in laughter.

Barely managing to suppress a giggle herself, D shrugged. "Yeah, sure," she said generously, her eyes meeting Joe's. "It's kind of nice."

"Thank you," Joe sighed with mock relief and put his arm around her, rubbing her shoulder. "Nice to have you back too."

"That's quite a passionate conversation you're having," Robert teased. "So heartwarming to watch."

"Hahaha," D grumbled and shook her head. "I'm so glad you're here to watch."

"Well, at least now I know why you weren't so enthusiastic about the job in London anymore last time we talked," Robert said with a little shrug.

D blew out an exasperated breath and shook her head. "Just shut up, Robert..."

~~~

An hour later D parked her car at her parents' house, the sand-colored Volvo pulling up right behind her. They had gone by the hospital to pick up her car that she had left there earlier.

She got out, took her overnight bag from the trunk and then waited for Joe, who had a bit more luggage.

"Sorry," he said with a glance at what seemed to be a bag with laundry that he was carrying in addition to the duffle bag he had over his shoulder. "The plan had actually been to wash my stuff at Sarah's."

"I know," D said. "Don't worry about it! My parents have a washer and dryer too. And I might be willing to iron your shirts."

He laughed uncomfortably. "Believe it or not, but I am capable of that myself," he said, following her to the front door.

"That's fine too," she said with a glance at him over her shoulder.

She unlocked the door and pushed it open with her foot, then motioned for him to go ahead inside.

"Feels kind of weird," he said, stepping in. "Reminds me of when I first came here. Even still smells the same."

D nodded and drew in a quick breath as the memory of his showing up right after Christmas six years ago flashed through her head. The memory came with a funny, warm stirring in the pit of her stomach. They hadn't been together for more than a month, and they hadn't yet told anyone about it. Then Christmas had come around and she had gone home to be with her family for a few days. The plan had been to return to Innsbruck for a New Year's a party at Rick's. But then she had come down with the flu right after Christmas. A few days later Joe had suddenly shown up. He had stayed until New Years.

In the doorway to her room D turned around now and looked at him. She'd never forget her Mom popping into her room that morning saying, "There's someone here for you..." She clearly remembered how he'd stepped into her room that day – his wide smile, his great eyes, his touch – and a knock-you-off-your-feet kiss that showed absolutely no fear of the evil virus that had dragged her down.

"Still can't believe you never got the flu then," D she said, trying not to get too lost in his eyes here.

"Yeah, that was amazing," he agreed. "And it's not as if we took any precautions." There was a mischievous little smile playing around his mouth. "Thank God I didn't get it though, because if I'd returned home with your flu, Sarah might have actually guessed it." He let out a dry chuckle and shook his head. "They were so pissed at me for being gone for three days and not telling them where I'd been."

In her room they dropped their bags beside the door and Joe let his gaze wander around.

"Mom and Dad have turned it into a guest room," she said. "But officially it's still my room and I –" Her phone ringing made her break off and whisk around to retrieve it from her purse that was sitting on the overnight bag.

"That's Mom," she told Joe.

He nodded and ran his palm over her back in passing. Then he got out his own phone and set down on the bed.

"Hi Mom," D said, walking across the room and one-handedly letting down the shades. "I wasn't sure if I could still call you or if you're already asleep."

Joe pretended to be immersed in checking e-mails on his phone, but he couldn't tune her out, of course. And he didn't want to either.

"Yeah, Robert said they'll release you Sunday around noon," he heard her say.

There was a short pause with her Mom responding something.

"Mhmm."

From the corner of his eye, Joe could see her shoot him a quick look. "Yeah, I'm at the house" she said slowly.

He looked over at her and grinned.

A lopsided smile appeared on her face in response to his grin, then she rolled her eyes at something her Mom was saying. "Mom," she said with some exasperation. "I'm sure Robert already told you..."

Her jaw tightened as she listened to the reply, then she burst out laughing. Her eyes darted over to Joe again.

He raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Guess what?" D said, now addressing him rather than her Mom, "Robert told her that I have a mysterious guest, but he can't tell her who it is."

Joe laughed. "Tell her the mysterious guest is just here for moral support and to wash his clothes. And tell her Hi."

"Yeah, it's Joe," D confirmed. "And he says Hi."

Addressing Joe again, she said, "Mom says Hi too."

There was another pause with D listening to her Mom and pacing from one end of her room to the other. "I am so glad the surgery went okay," she said, her voice suddenly a bit shaky. "Because I don't know what I'd do if anything ever..." She broke off, jerkily dabbing at her eyes.

Joe pushed himself up from the bed and walked over to her. He reached out to touch her face, but she turned away – embarrassed at the emotional outburst, but still fighting tears.

"Yeah I know that no one lives forever," she muttered thickly, and flinched as Joe stepped behind her and draped an arm across her from shoulder to shoulder.

"I know," she squawked into the phone.

Joe buried his face in her hair and closed his eyes. She smelled so good.

"Anyway, I'm going to see you tomorrow," she said to her Mom, sounding a little more composed again.

Something her Mom was saying made her turn her head and glance over her shoulder.

"She asks if she'll see you too."

"Sure, if you want me there," he replied with a shrug.

"Yes, you'll see him," she announced into the phone, then listened again "No, I'm sure you'll still recognize him," she said, her free hand running over his arm under her chin. "He still looks... the same." Her fingers locked with his, and he playfully squeezed them.

"Mhmm," she mumbled, her eyes closing as Joe blew a kiss onto her free ear. "Sure, Mom..." She was definitely a bit distracted – and ready to hang up. "We'll see you tomorrow then. Yeah, good night. Hope you can sleep.... Mhmm. Bye, Mom."

She hung up and blew out a breath. "What are you doing?" she asked then.

"Giving you moral support," Joe said saintly.

"Yeah, right." She looked at her phone in her hand, ready to put it away. "Oh, there's a text from Sarah," she suddenly said.

"Great..." Joe grumbled behind her. But then glanced over her shoulder, reading the text with her.

Joe told me about your parents.

Soooo worried, but don't want to call you as you might be in the hospital. Please let me know as soon as you know something.

Sarah

Leaning back against Joe, D typed in a quick response.

Thanks for your message. So nice! Mom and Dad are going to be fine. Dad more banged up than Mom but will be okay. Joe's here – which is nice...

Chuckling, she sent it off.

"Nice, huh?" Joe asked with mock disgust at the word. "Nice!?!" He pulled the phone out of her hand and shoved it into the back pocket of his pants. "I think I deserve a little more than just nice..."

# A Hospital Visit and an Evening Together

(Saturday, September 14th)

"So, you actually got your own company?" Robert gave Joe an impressed look across the table.

They were having lunch at the hospital cafeteria – Robert, Ann, Joe and D. And Robert had just inquired what Joe was doing these days – workwise.

"Yeah, well, so do you from what I hear," Joe said with a little smile. "Guess it's a way to do what you like – make the hobby a profession."

Robert nodded.

"And I don't own it alone," Joe said. "I started it with a friend two and a half years ago, so..."

Her eyes on her plate of slightly overcooked pasta, D couldn't help but notice that he had referred to Steve as a friend and not, like when he had first told her about the company, as Liz's brother.

Putting her silverware to the side of her plate, D realized that Steve probably really was a friend – rather than just Liz's brother.

Beside her, Joe laughed about something Robert had said.

Suddenly he glanced over. Squinted. "You done already?" He frowned at all the food that was left on her plate.

"Do you want it?" she asked.

He shrugged and reached over. "I'll have some," he said, "but if I keep eating all of your leftovers..." He puffed up his cheeks and rubbed his hands over an imaginary big belly to indicate what her leaving him her leftovers would eventually lead to.

As the conversation moved on, Robert and Joe started exchanging stories about their business-related struggles with taxes, loans and weird customers. The atmosphere was relaxed and friendly, and sometimes Joe and Robert just spontaneously burst out laughing.

With some amazement D realized that they behaved like two old friends who had finally met again – a stark contrast to the forced and lukewarm interactions her brother had always had with Pete.

Joe was currently describing in colorful terms how, when they had first moved into the new R&D offices, an artist friend of Steve's Dad had talked Steve into letting her supply some complementary decoration for the company.

"It was supposed to be some silk flower arrangements, a big one for the lobby and a few smaller ones for the offices," Joe said, "I mean – Steve asked me beforehand because somehow that lady is also his godmother or something. And I was like – sure, some flowers would be nice, especially some that don't need love and attention," Joe paused for a moment, then laughed. "Well, and then those things were delivered, I tell you. The flower arrangements would have actually been okay, even though way too big and in these enormous wicker baskets, but there were little angels and fairies snuck in between the flowers and, on top of it all, there was this scent." He grimaced. "Brrr. I'm really not very sensitive, but – and I'm not kidding – the entire floor we're on, smelled like – I don't even know what it was – jasmine, rose or whatever. It literally made even me sick. And then those freaky little figurines. I don't think Steve had seen that coming either. He really wasn't happy. I didn't even have to say anything. Half an hour after the stuff had been delivered, he was on the phone with his Dad telling him that we couldn't possibly keep the things."

"So you got rid of them again?" Robert asked.

"Yeah, it must have been a bit of a drama in Steve's family, of course, because naturally, the artist wanted to know exactly why in the world we had rejected the lovely gift. I think Steve ended up telling her that some super-sensitive employee was allergic to the smell, and – as much as the rest of us loved the flower arrangements – we just couldn't keep them around. I'm pretty sure he didn't tell her that we had to air out the office for two or three days afterwards, and that every single one of us still kind of gags when we think of it. Might actually have been a good idea to tell her the truth though," D chuckled. "You probably weren't the only ones bothered by the smell."

"Probably not," Joe said.

His tone made her laugh again, but at the same time D felt this small, uncomfortable lump that had risen in her throat while he had been talking.

He had hardly mentioned R&D to her since that night, shortly after the grill party, when he had revealed that he co-owned a company with Liz's brother and still needed to see how the breakup with Liz would affect that partnership and his job. Up until the e-mail he had sent her from work on Wednesday, she hadn't even known the name of his company. Now she did. Reilley&Davis... R&D.

Consciously or subconsciously they had both avoided the topic. And even over the last two weeks they had continued pretending that his being away from Innsbruck was just a temporary thing – just while he was covering for Steve. The truth was, however – and it was probably time to face it: not his covering for Steve was the temporary thing, but his being in Innsbruck and staying with Sarah was. How could it not be?

The times when they were both studying and had a lot of time on their hands – for a spontaneous bike-ride or a weekday afternoon at the lake – were long over. Circumstances had changed. Cooking experiments for dinner in the dorm kitchen, Joe's sleeping over afterwards and breakfasts until noon during the week were a thing of the past. They both had jobs now. And, listening to how he talked about R&D with Robert, D knew that this was so much more than just a job to him. This company was actually his passion. He loved it. And it happened to be two and a half hours away from Innsbruck...

Joe's phone ringing interrupted his conversation with Robert – and D's thoughts.

She watched him pull his phone out and briefly glance at the display that showed the caller. "It's Steve," he said, to no one in particular. "Sorry, but I better take this." He pushed back his chair, gave D a quick glance and an apologetic smile and headed across the cafeteria, the phone to his ear.

~~~

Joe walked out of the hospital into the park-like garden that stretched around the back and south side of the building.

While the phone dialed Steve's number he strolled down one of the gravel paths, passing patients that were enjoying the sun while wandering around in their bathrobes – some of them on their own, some in the company of visiting friends and family.

"So, you're back?" he said once Steve picked up.

"Yeah, we got in this morning," Steve said. "Didn't know if we could really fly out until we got to the airport."

"You must have gotten lucky," Joe said, "because from what I've heard, that volcano is still blowing out ash."

"Yes, we got lucky," Steve confirmed. "That stupid thing... How are you doing?"

"Oh, good," Joe said lightly.

"You're probably in Innsbruck at your sister's, huh?" Steve asked.

Joe hesitated. Then, in the interest of keeping it simple, he just said, "Yeah".

"Are you coming back here tomorrow or on Monday?" Steve wanted to know.

"I haven't really thought about it," Joe said.

"I'm just asking, because we'd like to have you over for dinner if you were already here tomorrow evening," Steve explained.

Walking by a young woman who was pushing an older lady in a wheelchair and chatting merrily, Joe thought about Steve's suggestion for a moment. He didn't really want to head back to the office already tomorrow, but saving the long drive for Monday morning, when there'd be a lot of traffic, didn't sound appealing either.

"Yeah, sure," he finally said. "I can come over tomorrow night. You feed me and I'll tell you what's been going on. Then we don't have to do it all on Monday. You'll be swamped anyway."

"Yeah," Steve said. "That's kind of what I was thinking too. Can you make it tomorrow around five-thirty?"

"Sure," Joe said slowly, still considering it. "Sounds good."

~~~

Two hours later:

"What did Steve have to say?" D asked from the Volvo's passenger seat.

They were on their way back to her parents' house after having spent a good part of the early afternoon around her Dad's hospital bed, having coffee and chatting. It had been nice.

They had dropped by Dad's room already in the morning, but he had still been groggy and tired then. When they had returned after lunch, he had seemed like a new man – or actually more like his old self. And he had been wide-awake and in very good spirits.

"I like family gatherings," he had said, "the occasion could be better, of course, but it's great to have you all here." And with a glance between her and Joe he had added, "And it's really nice to see this guy again – if I may say so..."

The mention of nice had made Robert, Ann, Joe and herself burst out laughing.

"What?" Joe's eyes flickered from the street over to her. He seemed as if her question about Steve had just pulled him out of deep thoughts. "Oh, you wanna know what Steve said?" he said as if it had just come back to him.

She nodded.

"He just reported that he's back," he said vaguely. "And he asked if I wanted to come over for dinner tomorrow night."

D swallowed. She had been wondering if he was going to come back to Innsbruck with her tomorrow – for the night – but she hadn't asked him yet.

From the corner of her eye she could see him shoot her a quick glance.

"I was going to go to Innsbruck with you," he said as if he had just read her thoughts (something that freaked her out a bit), "but since I'd pretty much have to get up at four-thirty Monday morning then, I think it makes more sense if I just left from here. I'd like to talk to Steve about a few things anyway, and Monday morning in the office is going to be crazy."

D nodded, her stomach knotting. "You probably got a lot to catch up on," she said, managing a perfectly understanding tone. "Especially regarding the Italian customer..."

"Yep," Joe nodded with a non-committal smile.

The Italian customer was just one thing Steve and he needed to talk about. He also intended to bring Steve back his key card and briefly explain how it had gotten into his hands; he needed to discuss with Steve who was going to go to Florence and install the program he had written, and – above all – he was going to ask Steve and Susan to relieve him of his best-man duties. He had made up his mind that he absolutely couldn't attend that wedding.

~~~

D and Joe spent the rest of the day at her parents' house.

They washed another load of clothes, Joe folded some of the things they had washed and dried the previous evening, and D ironed four of his shirts.

For dinner they got some frozen stew out of the freezer where D's Mom had told them to look for food if they wanted.

They ate on the sofa while watching the evening news, then put away the dishes and moved the last load of laundry from the washer into the dryer. Eventually they returned to the sofa, cuddled up together under a blanket and watched a DVD.

On a quick trip to the downstairs bathroom after the movie had ended, Joe saw the nice, oversized bathtub and returned to the living room with the suggestion to have a bath together.

It seemed like this perfect, romantic thing to do. They drew a bath, lit a candle, poured some scented bath oil into the water, peeled each other out of their clothes with a lot of giggling and kissing, and then climbed into the bathtub, with Joe getting in first. Once D slipped in as well, coming to lie on top of him, facing him, it became apparent that, what always made for great romantic and sensual scenes in books and movies, was – in fact – quite an uncomfortable, chilly experience in real life. Despite the over-average size of the bathtub, there were always some body parts that were out of the water and getting cold, and others that were being squeezed against the side of the bathtub. They tried different positions, but none was really relaxing for both of them, and each time they repositioned themselves they caused little flood waves, some of which spilled over onto the floor. They ended up laughing a lot, though.

"I thought this would be a major turn-on," Joe finally summarized with a chuckle, "but you've got goose bumps, I've got some bruises from your elbows and that pointy hip bone of yours, and we definitely need to mop the floor."

"Not a big success." D chuckled as she slid to one side of the bathtub, pulled her legs up enough so he had space to push himself into a sitting position, and then watched him stand up.

"It always looks so enjoyable in the movies..." D contemplated, as he grabbed hold of the towel rod and cautiously set a foot on the bath mat. "Don't slip. Please..."

"I'm trying," he said, and managed to put both feet firmly down without any accidents." He pulled the towels from the rack and handed her one.

Two minutes later, the tub was draining and gurgling, the tile floor had been half-heartedly mopped with a towel, and Joe and D were on the way to her room, the towels wrapped around themselves and Joe already tugging at hers.

In her room both their towels landed on the floor within a few seconds and they fell onto the bed, wrapped around each other and connected in a drawn-out, dizzying kiss.

They made love. And, in contrast to the bath, this part turned out way better than in the movies...

An hour after climbing out of the bathtub:

With D snuggled up against him from behind, Joe couldn't help smiling to himself.

One hand on his stomach, she alternated between dipping a finger into his belly button and pulling it out again. Her other arm lay between them, squarely across his back, her hand loosely cupping his shoulder. With her chin resting on that hand, Joe could feel her breath against his skin.

This was the most amazing, exhilarating thing – having someone so stubbornly proud actually let down her guard and surrender to you; let you see the soft and sweet and gentle side. Nothing like it...

He'd never felt this way with Liz. Or anyone else for that matter. Liz was a chapter of her own, of course. He felt a pang of guilt and maybe fear as he thought of her and their recent encounter in his office. It made him clench his jaw. But then a playful bite to his shoulder made him snap out of these unpleasant thoughts again.

"What are you thinking?" D whispered, propping herself up behind him and craning her neck so she could kiss the side of his neck.

He swallowed. That question had just made his mind snap right back to what he would really rather not think about. Thank God she couldn't read his mind!

"Tell me," she pressed, while gently twisting her index finger inside his belly button.

Joe closed his eyes and drew in a quiet breath. He couldn't tell her. It would just absolutely ruin the moment.

"Joe..." the teasing tone was gone.

He let out a light chuckle that luckily didn't sound as forced as it was and brushed his hand over her arm that lay across his stomach. He could feel the soft hair on it. "I was just thinking that this is awesome," he claimed. "Or actually, what I meant to say was: I was thinking that this is nice. Yeah. Nice..."

To his surprise she didn't react with a witty response or a playful, little kick in the butt. She remained strangely quiet, and he thought he could even hear her swallow hard.

"That's not all it is, though, right?" she asked, her tone suddenly somber.

Joe felt his throat tighten. He could absolutely not tell her what was on his mind. He couldn't spoil the perfect moment here.

Her hand had started gliding up from his stomach towards the left side of his chest. He could only hope his heart wasn't beating suspiciously fast.

"I heard your jaw click, Joe," she said flatly.

He considered this. Wondered if he shouldn't just brush it off with a joke. But then he couldn't do it.

He sucked in a sharp breath. "There's something I need to tell you," he admitted.

"O-kay." Her tone was tense, and he could only imagine what was going through her head right now.

"I need you to promise me that you won't freak out," he said, holding her hand firmly against his chest.

"Sounds scary," she said warily.

"It actually kind of is..."

He could feel her hand on his shoulder tense up a little and grab tighter.

"Liz came by the office Thursday night," he said as calmly as he could.

After this revelation, time seemed to stand still for a moment. There was total, breathless silence, and her hand on his chest seemed to have grown stiff.

It didn't come as a surprise to Joe when, after a few seconds of this, she pulled her hand out from under his and pushed herself back enough so she wasn't touching up against him anymore.

The way the mattress bounced right afterwards made him realize that she must have flopped on her back behind him.

For a moment they both just lay there; neither of them moving. Then Joe heard her growl, suck in a breath through gritted teeth and angrily blow it back out again like an angry dragon.

He turned around to her.

"Nothing, happened, okay?" he said, propping himself up on his elbow and running the back of his free hand down her arm. "You have to trust me there."

She huffed out another angry breath. "I don't believe this... that stupid bitch!" she mumbled.

"Danny –"

"How did she even get in?" she interrupted, her head jerkily turning to face him in the dark. "Does she have a key for that too? First your car, now your office..."

"She was watering Steve's and Susan's plants and came across Steve's key card."

"That bitch!" D hissed, and he could feel the muscles of her arm tightening. He suspected that she had just clenched her hand to a fist. He could only hope that this wouldn't trigger another bout of 'but-you-lived-with-her-for-three-years-I-don't-know-who-you-are'.

For a moment she didn't say anything at all. Just turned her head away again. "Has she been calling you too?" she asked finally, her voice restrained. She was staring towards the bedroom door.

"Yeah, she called a few times," Joe admitted. "But I never picked up."

When there was no immediate reaction from her side, Joe cautiously placed his hand on her shoulder. He was prepared for her to jerk away, but – surprisingly – she didn't.

"Danny, you need to trust me," he said intently, "Please."

"I am trusting you," she announced a little stubbornly, "but it's still very, very disturbing."

"Yeah," he agreed, relieved at her tone. "I didn't say it wasn't disturbing." He lowered himself, so he was lying right next to her, facing her, one arm bent under his head, the other hand still on her shoulder.

"So, she showed up in the middle of the night in a trench coat with nothing underneath or what?" she asked, turning her head to him again.

"Not quite, but yeah, you kind of got the idea."

She shivered. "Brrrr, I don't want that picture in my head," she moaned.

"Better not imagine it then," Joe recommended and – in a gutsy move – relocated his hand from her shoulder to her stomach. He felt her flinch, but she didn't try to stop him or move away.

"So she took off some clothes," D concluded. "Right? A little striptease and then a generous offer for a blowjob or more."

"I got rid of her before anything could happen, okay?" Joe said, sweeping his thumb up and down across her soft skin. "You have to –"

"Fine, yeah, I believe you," she interrupted wearily, rubbing her hand over her face. "Because if I don't, we can give this up right away." She let out a dry, unhappy chuckle. "So, yeah, I do believe you. But it freaks me out."

"I know." He scooted closer, leaned his chin against her shoulder, one hand still on her stomach. Suddenly he felt her hand slide on top of his.

"Why are you even telling me?" she asked sternly.

He lifted his head so he could give her an incredulous look. "Would you rather not know who comes to seduce me in the middle of the night?" he asked. It was a weak attempt at joking.

Unexpectedly it made her laugh. "Of course I want to know that," she assured him, her fingertips running over the knuckles of his hand, "but for you to want to talk about it – that's kind of surprising."

"Yeah, well..." he blew out some air while trying to figure out how to best phrase this. "I guess I'd rather you hear it from me than – possibly from her."

"Huh?"

"A while ago she got into my email account," he said hesitantly. "She's got your phone number and your email address." He cleared his throat. "I mean – maybe I'm just paranoid, but –"

"You never struck me as paranoid," D said darkly, her fingers sliding between his.

There was a long moment of silence.

"So this is a warning then," D concluded.

Joe shrugged against her shoulder. "Kind of."

"Okay," she said with an air of determination, "I guess I will brace myself then. Any idea for what?"

"I don't know," he said uncomfortably. "Just promise me that you won't let it get to you, whatever she says or writes." He paused for a moment, trying to phrase this right. "Just keep in mind that whatever she does, it's just to –"

"Yeah, I get it," D interrupted him tensely. "It's just to upset me and mess things up. Like her telling me you're in her shower."

# What is this going to be?

(Sunday, September 15th)

On Sunday D got back home around five in the afternoon.

She dropped her bag in the bedroom and sat down on her bed for a moment, trying to decide what to do with herself now.

Being alone in her flat on Sunday evenings was nothing new and definitely nothing that had bothered her over the last year or so. On the contrary, Sunday evenings alone at home – after having been around Pete since Friday night – had often been the best part of her weekend. Time of liberty...

She didn't feel any form of liberation now.

If she was honest, she felt sad, lonely – and edgy. The way it looked, she had Joe back after three years but, ironically, the circumstances might turn out to be exactly what they had been with Pete – they'd have Friday evening to Sunday afternoon together, and that would be it. Except for maybe vacations. She had welcomed this arrangement in the past, but she absolutely hated it now.

She had avoided asking Joe whether or not he'd be back in Innsbruck before the next weekend. The question had been on her mind from the moment she had woken up in the morning until the good-bye kiss he had given her at her parents' front steps. She had let him drive off without ever having asked, though. Because she hadn't wanted to seem desperate, and she had been afraid that all such an inquiry would accomplish, was make them both feel bad.

From what Joe had told her last week, she knew that his plan was to be in the office at least on Monday and Tuesday. Something told her, however, that he might have to stay there longer. To help Steve with things that came up, to make important decisions, to solve problems for the Italian customer. Who knew, maybe he'd even have to go to Florence...

Huffing out a breath, she decided not to let this drag her down. She couldn't change it anyway. It was a beautiful afternoon and she should do something besides sitting in her flat and brooding.

She considered calling Sarah, but then decided against it. Sarah might already be doing something with Jack, and even if she wasn't or wanted to get together anyway – the three of them – D feared, her own preoccupation would make a meeting uncomfortable for everyone, and they'd just end up talking about Joe again. She didn't really want that.

She decided to go for a bike ride instead – to clear her head, calm down a bit.

~~~

Ten minutes later D was pedaling on the gravel country road that she sometimes took to go to the lake.

It was an easy and pretty ride, first through fields where the crops had been harvested a while ago, then into a forest where the leaves had started to turn brown and fall to the ground.

Once the road started going uphill through the forest, she had to pedal harder for a little while. It wasn't a long incline, but she was glad when she reached the top where the road led out of the forest again. Going downhill, she just let it go – the wind in her hair and her gaze on the mountains ahead. They looked beautiful in the afternoon sun, with the blue sky behind them and some snow on the peaks.

Suddenly the first bike ride she had ever taken with Sarah's brother flashed through her head. It made her mood drop and her stomach knot. He had persuaded her to go biking together – but not to tell Sarah, for God's sake. And because his bike had been stolen, he had secretly borrowed Sarah's baby-blue one. Over the two and a half years that followed, they had biked this way many times. Pedaling next to each other, cheerily chatting and madly in love – on the way to the lake or back to the dorm... Somehow they had taken it for granted. As if things would ever stay that way.

She ground her teeth. She needed to stop brooding over things she couldn't change.

The road was following a small stream now. Up ahead she could see the bench she had stopped at several times before.

She pulled over, put down the kick stand and got a candy from her bike pouch. Unwrapping it, she stepped up to the bench and sat down.

Chewing her candy, she gazed at the stream. The fast-moving water had something almost hypnotizing. Relaxing.

But then her phone started ringing from her bike pouch.

She got up and retrieved the phone.

It was Joe.

She hadn't expected to hear from him. She had assumed he'd be busy with Steve all evening – having dinner and talking business. Grrr...

Struggling for a more balanced and positive attitude, and with the sticky, chewy candy still in her mouth, she picked up.

"Hi," she said cheerfully enough to almost convince herself.

"Hey," Joe said. He sounded unexpectedly subdued. "Just wanted to make sure you got home alright."

Somehow his tone made it seem unlikely that her safe arrival was all that was on his mind.

"Yep. I got home fine," D confirmed, the sticky candy making it a bit difficult to annunciate properly. "Sorry, I'm just eating a candy."

"I can hear that," Joe said with a chuckle and made a nasty imitation of what he claimed to be hearing.

She gulped the rest of her candy down.

"What are you doing?" Joe asked.

"Taking a bike ride."

"Where to?"

"Oh, just riding around. Right now I'm at the stream on the way to the lake." She tried for a light, chipper tone.

"Sounds nice," Joe said somberly. "Wish I could be there."

"Yeah, well," despite all her good resolutions, there was a trace of bitterness. "That would be nice, of course, but since you have other things to do..." She had just barely avoided saying 'better' things.

There was a moment of silence on his end. "I'd rather be there, believe me," he finally said flatly.

She decided not to comment. Whatever she said in response would surely only come out the wrong way. "I thought you'd be at Steve's," she said instead, managing to sound perfectly nice and friendly.

"I'm on my way there now," Joe confirmed.

"Oh, okay..." D said, struggling to keep up the light tone. "Good..."

On the other end Joe tensely cleared his throat. "Danny?" He sounded serious. "What's wrong?"

She faltered, her mouth turning dry. "What? Nothing's wrong. Why?"

"I don't know," he muttered uncertainly. "It just seemed like..." He paused for a moment and started over. "I thought you were kind of weird already this morning. And now..."

"Weird?" she asked as if she had absolutely no idea what he could possibly talking about.

"Strange, reserved, quiet, brooding, a bit snappy at times..." Joe specified.

"Me?" she asked, sounding forced even to herself.

"Yeah, you," Joe confirmed patiently. "And I can even kind of see why – after what I told you last night."

It took D a moment to realize that he attributed her 'weirdness' to his telling her about Liz's visit to his office.

"Listen, I know–" Joe started. And D suddenly knew that she better be very clear about what really was on her mind.

"Yeah, maybe I was kind of weird..." she interrupted. She had picked up a piece of tree bark and flung it into the stream where it was carried away swiftly, over waves and rocks. "It's got nothing to do with Liz though."

"Okay," it sounded like a question. "But?"

Blowing out a breath, D picked up a rock and threw it, aiming for a small basin where some foam had collected. How in the world should she say this?

"I've been kind of thinking," she finally said hesitantly.

"And that's never good," he diagnosed drily.

"Yeah, well – but it's kind of hard to just turn it off," she retorted.

"I know." He exhaled audibly. "So, what were you thinking about? Us?"

Scratching her left eyebrow, D weighed her words.

"Yeah," she said as calmly as she could. "I've been thinking about us – and how much it sucks that you're not here."

"Well, like I already said, I'd really rather be there," Joe said, sounding a bit confused.

Silence on her end.

"You know that, right?" Joe asked intently. "I would much rather be biking with you. I mean – who wouldn't. But did you really want to get up at four-thirty tomorrow morning?"

"Yeah, I know that wouldn't have been fun," she admitted with an air of resignation, "especially for you to have to drive so far then. So, I don't know why I'm so..."

"Weird," he said, "The word is 'weird'."

D let out an unhappy, little chuckle. "I know. But I guess it just dawned on me that..." she paused for a moment, and then cleared her throat. "This is going to be a weekend thing, right?" Her voice suddenly sounded a little shaky. "I mean – this thing with us. It'll only be a weekend thing..."

On his end, Joe had just had to stop the car at an intersection.

Staring at the red light, he sucked in his bottom lip. He could claim that he didn't know what she was getting at, or that this had never ever crossed his mind, but not only would it surely upset her and consequently make her keep these kinds of things from him, it would also be a blatant lie. He had pondered this a lot over the past two weeks – mainly when he had been alone at night in his office. But he didn't have any answers. At least not yet.

"I know it's silly," she muttered a bit defiantly. "You told me the day after the grill party that you've got a company with Liz's brother. It was kind of clear from the start." She paused for a moment. "But I guess I didn't quite get it until you talked about it with Robert."

"Get what?" Joe asked, just trying to make sure he was understanding this correctly.

"That this is so much more than a job to you," she said. "I mean – my job, it's just a job. I like it and everything, but still, it's just a job. But yours – I mean – it's your company. You created this. You love it."

"Yeah, I – I guess I do," he mumbled while putting the car back in gear and continuing his drive.

"And eventually you'll need to find a place to live around there, because you can't keep sleeping in your office." She was trying to keep emotions out of this. "So, that's what I've been thinking about. And that's why, maybe, I was a little weird. Nothing you can do about it, though. Just something I'll have to work out with myself..."

Joe ground his teeth. Having to do this over the phone when she seemed to have everything figured out already, while he had to pay attention to traffic, was less than ideal. "I don't know what to tell you right now," he said, feeling a bit helpless. "It's just –"

"You don't have to tell me anything," she said quietly, "and I wouldn't have brought it up if you hadn't... made me. I just want to make sure you know that, if I was weird, it wasn't because of ... of Liz."

# An Invitation

(Monday, September 16th)

Swan&Co:

Monday morning at the office had been uneventful so far.

D was swiveling on her chair, listening to June talk about a great romance movie she had seen on TV the previous evening.

The more details June mentioned, the clearer it became to D that they must have watched the same film – only that she had fallen asleep about halfway through it because the plot had been way too unrealistic, shallow and predictable. In contrast to her, June had obviously found it heartwarming and exciting. It was just amazing how people's tastes differed...

June was still talking about the movie when, from the corner of her eye, D saw a new e-mail pop up in her inbox. From Joe.

Subject: Here's an idea

She clicked it open and read:

Hi,

I guess I'll have to go to Florence on Wednesday to install the software at our customer's site. Hasn't really been the plan, but since I wrote the program, and since Steve is still pretty swamped, it makes more sense that I go.

I'm just looking at flights and hotels right now. Probably have to be there from Wednesday to Friday afternoon.

In a way this really sucks. But then I just had an idea – an excellent one, as far as I'm concerned: Why don't you meet me there? In Florence. Thursday evening or Friday. (Even if I have to work part of Friday, I'm sure you could entertain yourself somehow ;))

Let me know. Would be really great! I'd book you a flight. And I'd even share my hotel bed with you... (Hope no one reads your e-mails.)

Joe

"I really thought that was great," June announced from across the desks, still talking about the film. Her voice was reaching D as if it came from far, far away.

She slowly tore her eyes away from the screen and looked back at June, who had leaned back in her chair, arms crossed behind her head, a dreamy look on her face. "He was sooo sweet," she said.

"Mhmm," D mumbled and wondered what oh-so-sweet thing the male protagonist of that silly film might have eventually done after being so boring and spineless during the forty minutes she had watched before nodding off. She had only woken up during the credits.

"Speaking of sweet, though," she said slowly. "I just got an e-mail from Joe." She nodded her head at her monitor.

"Oh," June said delightedly. Obviously reality trumped fiction anytime. "What does he have to say?"

"He asks if I'd meet him in Florence on Friday. Or earlier if I can get away. He's there for business."

"That's great," June said enthusiastically. "Very sweet..." She looked at her monitor and moved the mouse around a bit. "You could probably leave Thursday after that stupid meeting with accounting," she said, obviously just having checked the Outlook calendar. "How long of a flight is it?"

"Two hours or so," D replied.

"Leave on Thursday then," June said. "That would give you an extra evening together. I'm here anyway."

D started scrolling through the calendar as well. "Yeah, I guess, I could" she said slowly. "I still have some vacation and comp time too."

"Just do it," June urged. "Sounds romantic," She giggled. "I'll put it into the system right away..."

Drawing in a quick breath, and trying to keep a smile under control that was starting to spread across her face, D pressed Reply to JReilley@...

I could leave here on Thursday afternoon. If you have to work Friday, I'll just go shopping... But I can pay for my own ticket.

The response didn't even take five seconds:

Perfect! Thursday sounds great. I'll pay for the ticket and the hotel. You can take me out to dinner Friday night.

# Seriously?

(Monday, September 16th)

In a very sunny mood after the little e-mail exchange with D, and suddenly actually looking forward to the business trip, Joe booked two flights to Florence – one on Wednesday morning, one Thursday afternoon; return flights together on Sunday afternoon.

He forwarded the flight confirmation to D right away, and then left for lunch.

~~~

"Are you even still considering it?" June asked D as the two of them were walking back to the office. "I mean – London."

They were on their way back from lunch in the cafeteria – a lunch that D hadn't enjoyed very much. The food had been okay, but Rachel had joined them, and it was the first time the three of them had met since going to London together. Rachel had therefore asked how their plans for the jobs in London were coming along. What was the latest news? Did they have places to stay yet? When were they leaving?

Thankfully, June had handled most of this conversation. She had managed to make it sound as if she were speaking for herself and D. D had just nodded and smiled at the right moments and felt like a liar. Especially with some of the glances June had shot her when Rachel wasn't looking.

Somehow that lunch had made it impossible for D to ignore that she needed to finally tackle the London issue. There was no way around it anymore. She needed to make a clear decision regarding the job in London.

"Do you?" June asked again, her tone understanding.

They had reached the office.

D scratched her left eyebrow and sat down at her desk. "I think at this point, if I went –"

"You'd regret it for the rest of your life," June completed the sentence with confidence. "Don't look at me like that. You would! I know it!" She let out a friendly, little laugh. "You're going to Florence with the guy, you're crazy about him, he seems really nice from what I've heard and... Well, let's face it, there is no way you could still leave the country on a long-term basis now – without him."

"Probably not," D admitted while tensely running her hands over the armrests of her chair. "Even if it doesn't work out with him, I just have to give it a shot."

June laughed. "It will work out!"

"Well, you never know," D said with a glance up.

"Silly thing," June said, shaking her head. "Course it will!"

D couldn't help laughing at the patronizing behavior and tone. Then, turning serious again, she drew in a deep breath. "I guess I need to tell Harry, though..." she said.

"Yeah, you probably should," June agreed. She gave D an encouraging smile and then turned her attention to her computer screen.

D did the same. She clicked her mouse a few times and opened Outlook while her mind was already circling around what to exactly say to Harry.

Her inbox showed several new e-mails.

One was from JReilley.

Subject: Ticket

Hi,

Here's your ticket.

Can't wait!

Love you,

Joe

An uncontrollable smile spreading across her face and a little heat wave rushing through her stomach, D read the message again.

Then she pressed Reply.

Grazie. (Thank you.)

Can't wait either.

Ti amo. (You know what that means, right?)

I'll call you around seven-thirty tonight. Okay?

D

She sent it off. Then she picked up the receiver of her office phone and dialed Harry's number.

~~~

Joe got back from lunch, saw D's e-mail, smiled to himself and quickly sent her a message back, just saying:

7:30 is good.

Still smiling, he checked the next few emails, and lost his great mood the moment he opened a message from Eric. It said that one of the Belgian gentleman had called with some kind of urgent problem that he was only willing to discuss with one of the 'bosses'. So, please, call him back, Eric wrote, because Steve isn't going to be back from his meeting until the late afternoon...

Blowing out an irritated breath, Joe grabbed the receiver.

~~~

June looked up when D returned to the office.

"How did it go?" she asked.

Plopping down on her chair, D blew out some air. "It went well," she said, "but I'm still glad it's over."

"So you told him?" June asked. "Officially?"

"Yeah," D nodded.

"It just had to happen," June sighed theatrically.

"Mhmm," D dropped her gaze and kneaded her hands in her lap. "I'm really sorry for just abandoning you."

June laughed. "You don't have to be sorry," she said. "And you're not abandoning me. It would have been great and fun, of course, but you need to do what you think is best for yourself. And after I met David and the others over there, I'm sure I'll be fine even if I transfer to London by myself."

"Thank you for your absolution," D said with a grateful smile.

"Welcome," June smiled back. "How did Harry take it?"

"Much better than I expected," D said slowly. "He was – really nice, actually."

"Did you tell him why you don't want to go?" June wanted to know.

D nodded. "Yep. Kind of. Since David told us that Harry has backed out of his own London mission for similar reasons, I thought I just might."

"Right. I'd totally forgotten about that."

"I haven't," D said with a wink. "Anyway, he was really nice and understanding, and he even indicated that he's been in a comparable situation himself once."

"He did?" June looked surprised. "I wouldn't have expected that."

"Me neither," D laughed. "But he did. Didn't clearly say when and how, and I pretended to be surprised, of course. I didn't inform him that his brother is telling everyone about it anyway."

"He probably wouldn't have liked that too much."

"Probably not."

"So he's okay with it then?"

"He said it's fine, and that it might be better to keep one of us here anyway, so...." D broke off and blew out a relieved breath. "I'm just glad it was so easy and he's not angry. And you're not angry..."

"I'm not," June smiled. "I'm really excited for you." She clapped her hands. "And I'd like to be kept up to date. Even when I'm far, far away..."

D laughed. "Of course. I'll send you a weekly update."

"Good..." June said contently and turned back to her computer screen.

D did the same, intending to resume her work. She tapped on her keyboard to wake up her computer again, but then simultaneously grabbed her phone that had been lying on the desk beside her and quickly accessed her private e-mail account to see if some things she had ordered online had finally shipped.

The inbox showed five new e-mails. Nothing about her package, however. There were just two newsletters from online retailers, an e-mail from the mobile phone company with the latest bill and a short message from her Mom saying that Robert had just dropped her off at home, and that she was doing okay, but would lie down again. Maybe they could talk on the phone sometime tomorrow.

The last e-mail was from a sender that, at first glance, didn't sound familiar at all. D squinted at the strange subject. It said 'Seriously?'.

She glanced back at the e-mail address.

Elisabeth. Davis@...

Elisabeth? Did she know an Elisabeth? She really couldn't think of one. And Davis? Davis...

Suddenly it struck her like lightening. Her heart skipped a beat (or two) as her brain started to make the connection. She had seen part of that name before. Very recently. Only in a different context: @ReilleyandDavis.

Her throat tightened as the pieces were falling into place.

Elisabeth Davis...

This e-mail was from Liz.

Eyes fixed on the e-mail address, D swallowed hard. Joe had warned her. She needed to keep that in mind, no matter what this turned out to be.

Subject: Seriously?

Hello Danielle,

So, I guess you decided to seriously take him back, huh?

Who would have thought!

How is that working out?

Just wanted to let you know that while he was with me I got him used to some little twists between the sheets that I very much doubt you would feel comfortable with...

You know what's being said about wolfs having tasted human flesh and being unsatisfied with everything else ever after. I wonder if that applies to men and sex as well. Don't you?

Liz

D stared at the display, her pulse deafening in her ears now.

June's office phone ringing almost made her jump.

When June started talking to someone – judging from her tone probably Dennis from the IT department – D slowly rose from her chair. The mobile phone still in hand, she left the room.

Like in a haze she walked down the corridor to the small kitchen and was relieved to find it deserted. With slightly unsteady hands she filled the water cooker about halfway and turned it on. Then she leaned against the counter and tapped on her phone, pulling up Liz's message again. She read it for a second time, her jaw clenched and her heart beating wildly. Then, Liz's words still floating around in her head, she let the arm with the phone sink to her side and drew in a sharp breath.

What now?

She couldn't say she hadn't been wondering. About exactly the things Liz was indicating in her e-mail. It hit a very sensitive spot.

Before D had ever met Joe, she had already heard enough about him from Sarah and Jack (who had gone to school with him) to know that he was very popular with girls and happily took advantage of all the possibilities that offered.

When he had moved back to Innsbruck she hadn't expected to like him. And their first few encounters had seemed to confirm that he was, indeed, a handsome, cocky guy with an annoyingly big ego.

But then she had fallen in love with him...

Discovering this had been quite disturbing. And she had been determined to suppress or at least hide it until – hopefully – it would pass again. It hadn't passed though. Instead it had gotten worse, because Joe had suddenly started to intentionally target her with his charm and even flirt with her (when Sarah wasn't looking).

She had tried to ignore the flirting, had done her best to keep her distance and had acted unimpressed and cool whenever the distance-keeping didn't work (because he would make a point of standing way too close).

It had seemed crucial not to let down her guard with him. No matter how tempting it might be. After all the stories Sarah had told her about him and his ever changing girlfriends, there hadn't been any doubt in D's mind that – to Joe – everything in the romance/sex department was just a fun and challenging game. And she was in no mood to be his newest toy for a week – or even just a few days. She was sure that, if she caved, and he discovered that she wasn't half as cool and in control as she pretended to be, and that she had neither his previous girls' undoubtedly extensive experience and self-confidence in bed, nor their cup-size, he would lose interest immediately. She would be devastated and humiliated, and he would already be chasing after the next sex bomb.

And while this kind of thing would be horrible with any guy, it would be a hundred times worse in this case, where there was no way of avoiding him afterwards. Given the fact that he was her best friend's brother and part of the group she hung out with, she'd still have to regularly see him even after a fling was long over. And it wasn't only that. Just imagining what Sarah would say upon finding out that not even her best friend was immune to her brother's Casanova appeal, was an additional, strong incentive to stay away from Joe Reilley.

But then he had had an accident. That scare and the following two weeks of sneaky hospital visits, always trying to avoid meeting Sarah, his parents or the other friends at his hospital bed, eventually made her scrap all her reservations and principles. She was in love with him and further ignoring or suppressing it just wouldn't work anymore.

Joe and she had finally ended up in bed together at a time when he had still been hopping around on crutches, and when sleeping together could only happen at her initiative, on her terms and with her active participation. She hadn't regretted it. And he hadn't lost interest...

They had been together for a little over two years.

And then Liz had come along – a blonde sex bomb...

The click of the water cooker turning itself off, steam rising from the spout now, brought D back to the present.

She put the phone aside, took a cup from the cupboard, grabbed a tea bag and some sugar from the drawer and poured the water.

Holding on to the string of the teabag and pulling it around in the cup a bit, she watched the water turning first yellowish and then green from the peppermint leaves. Watching the color change had a meditative, calming effect...

Not calming enough, however! The more the initial shock wore off, the more furious she was starting to feel.

That stupid, evil bitch!!!

Huffing angrily, she disposed of the tea bag, picked up her cup, and then headed back to her desk.

# Blackmail

(Monday, September 16th)

D was having dinner on her sofa, watching the TV news – or rather, glaring absent-mindedly towards the TV while the news was on. She was eating her soup, took bites from the cheese sprinkled baked bread every now and then and was wracking her brain.

She should have long ago called Joe. It was already 7:50 pm. But she still hadn't made up her mind what to tell him – or how to tell him, for that matter.

On TV, a foreign correspondent with a bullet-proof west and a helmet was reporting from one of the many warzones, giving little hope for peace in the near future.

Her phone ringing on the coffee table, almost made her jump.

It was Joe.

Swallowing hard, she picked up. Her mouth was suddenly very dry.

"Hi," she said, hoping that she didn't sound as tense as she felt.

"Hi," he said, obviously finding nothing wrong with her tone. "I thought you'd call me." He sounded upbeat. "What happened? Did you just forget about me?"

D let out a weak little chuckle. "Like I could just forget about you!" She managed a light, teasing tone.

"Well, you shouldn't," Joe laughed. "How was your day?"

She hesitated for a moment – considered putting on a good show and making some happy, chipper conversation. But then she couldn't.

"I got an e-mail," she said somberly. "From Liz."

There was a moment of total silence. Then she could hear Joe let out a cough-like laugh. "So she actually really did it," he said flatly. "And? What did she have to say?"

D blew out a long breath. "What do you expect?" she asked then.

He swallowed. Yeah, what did he expect?

"I've already sent her a response," D told him before he could say anything. "And I'll forward you the whole lovely correspondence so you're up to date. But–" She broke off for a moment as if to reconsider. "I can pretend all I want that I don't give a damn, and that it doesn't get to me, but – unfortunately – it does. Quite a bit."

"I know."

"And I don't really want to deal with this kind of crap on a regular basis." She was trying to keep her tone matter-of-factly. "I mean – I don't know how you could possibly make it stop, but I'm not sure how much of this I can just shrug off."

"I know," he said again, his voice restrained.

Silence.

"Send it to me, okay?" Joe said then. "I might actually have an idea..."

"Okay." D didn't sound convinced. "You can have it right away. But I'll hang up now, okay?."

"Yeah, okay. I'll call you back later."

~~~

Gnawing on the inside of his cheek, Joe was sitting at the desk in his office and waited. No wonder she hadn't called him when she said she would. He should probably consider himself lucky that she had still picked up the phone.

Thank God he had warned her! He didn't even want to imagine what would have happened if he hadn't done that.

Finally D's e-mail arrived. Seeing it pop up, made his throat tighten.

With slightly trembling fingers he clicked it open.

At the top D had typed,

Here. Read from below.

D

He scrolled down and read Liz's message first.

Hello Danielle,

So, I guess you decided to seriously take him back, huh?

Who would have thought!

How is that working out?

Just wanted to let you know that while he was with me I got him used to some little twists between the sheets that I very much doubt you would feel comfortable with...

You know what's being said about wolfs having tasted human flesh and being unsatisfied with everything else ever after. I wonder if that applies to men and sex as well. Don't you?

Liz

His heart beating up to his throat now, Joe raised his left hand and tensely ran it over his face. Oh, my God! He closed his eyes for a moment. He couldn't believe Danny had still picked up the phone when he had called her.

Drawing in a deep breath, he scrolled up to the response she had sent to Liz.

Oh Liz,

When Joe told me a few nights ago that you might get in touch with me, I couldn't imagine you'd seriously do something that bizarre. But you really did. Wow! Seriously???

The topic isn't really surprising, of course. Your endless talents in bed...Yawn!!!

Maybe I'm wrong, but I think that if he couldn't live without your very special talents, he probably wouldn't have left you – and thrown you out of the office the other day.

So, NO, I do not wonder if your stupid little metaphor applies to him. We're doing just fine – in and outside the sheets.

Danielle

Feeling almost lightheaded with relief all of a sudden, Joe pushed both his hands through his hair and couldn't help it: He started laughing. As crazy as it was. A little, relieved laugh at that response – the absolutely best, perfect response. He knew that it had probably cost her a lot of strength. But it was just perfect. She must have been sooo angry.

Clasping his hands behind his head, he blew out a breath and leaned back in his chair. Time to make his own contribution here...

He pulled his hands forward, leaned his head from side to side to loosen his neck and then placed his right hand on the mouse. He moved the cursor to the top of D's e-mail and clicked on Forward. Then he clicked on the line for the recipient and made his choice: Elisabeth.Davis@...

He was going to forward this back to Liz – but first he'd type a little note to her himself.

Liz,

I don't have to add much to what Danielle already said.

Only one thing: If you do not stop this - sending e-mails to her or showing up in my office at night, or calling me - I will send a message to your boss (Linda, right?) with some pictures I took in your bedroom when I picked up my stuff from the flat. I think they turned out pretty good and say it all. (Especially Fantastic Bob's note in close-up and a great shot of the condom wrapper and the lubricant on the bed stand...)

This isn't really my style, but if you want to play unfair, be my guest.

Joe

Without any further considerations he sent it off.

Then he called D back.

"Hi." She sounded really tense.

"Hi," he said softly. "I really liked your reply."

"I did my best..." she said solemnly.

"No, I mean it," he said, "It's great."

"Yeah. Well. Thanks," She mumbled, sounding at least a little cheered up. "But like I said, I don't want to have to do this more than once."

"Yeah, I know," Joe said. "And I'm really sorry that she drags you into this! I think I've found a way to put an end to it, though. Hopefully it works."

"Okay." D was hard-pressed to ask what he had done, but then she didn't dare to.

"Can we talk about it?" Joe asked cautiously. "About what she wrote."

There was no immediate response, but he thought he could hear her swallow.

"Do I really want to hear it?" she asked then, "I mean – I'm sure the sex was phenomenal. Given the people that were involved –"

"Well, believe it or not," Joe said with forced calmness, "but I really don't need the kind of stuff she's referring to. It's like – been there, done that. There's certain things that, once they happen in your own bed, can be quite a turn-off."

"Oh, really?" There was a slightly mocking edge, but at the same time she sounded drained.

"Yeah, really," he said decisively. "You need to trust me."

"Yeah, well – even if I didn't," she said. "This is me. And I can only be me. And that's what you get. I'll never be... Liz."

"Thank God for that," Joe coughed.

Silence.

"And I love you," Joe said. "Even though, sometimes you are a bit grumpy..." He chuckled.

"I'm not grumpy!" she protested, "Considering that I received an e-mail from your horrible nympho ex today, I am actually very nice and friendly."

He laughed.

And suddenly there was a little laugh from her side too. "And I love you too," she admitted with an artificially grumpy edge.

"Good," he said with an exaggerated sigh of relief. And then, with a little chuckle he whispered: "You just have the most heartwarming way of saying it."

She chuckled. "Don't complain."

"I'm not complaining..."

"How did you do it?" she asked.

"What?"

"Putting an end to Liz getting on our nerves," she specified.

"Oh, that..." He hesitated for a moment. "I used some highly unorthodox methods."

"Okay," she said cautiously. "Do I even want to hear it? Or is just going to make it worse?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, there's this sick picture in my head of you blackmailing her with some sex tape..."

He laughed out loud. "No, that's not it at all. I did blackmail her, though. Not my style normally, but if it helps... I kind of have some proof that she's still screwing her bosses husband. Took some photos of a note he left and a condom wrapper and stuff like that in the bedroom when I picked up some stuff from the flat. I told her if she keeps bothering me or you, I'll forward the pictures to her boss..."

"Ouch," she let out a pained little laugh.

"Yeah, well..." Joe huffed, "The goal blesses the means or however they say, right?"

"I don't blame you," she hurried to say. "Not at all. I actually think it's great. Unorthodox, but great. That might actually work."

"I sure hope so."

# Trip to Italy

(Thursday, September 19th)

Pulling her small suitcase out of the Vespucci Airport in Firenze, D followed the signs for the bus stop where the public SITA bus to the Central Station was supposed to leave.

A few people were already waiting, some of them speaking Italian. It made her feel a rush of excitement to hear it. She hadn't been in Italy for a long time. Pete had never liked it. The last trip to Italy had probably been five years ago with Joe – camping at the Adriatic sea.

The bus arrived and everyone climbed on.

Knowing the Italian bus drivers' general tendency for speedy and creative driving, D made sure she sat down and held on to her luggage so it wouldn't fly around once the bus driver staged an emergency stop at the next bus stop.

The bus ride took them through the outskirts of Florence, between multi-story residential buildings that sometimes surprised with exceptionally neat, nicely decorated shops on the street level. The bus raced through bustling streets with scooters buzzing by on both sides; it noisily honked at a small Fiat that was double parked ahead and was moved just in time before the bus would, by the looks of it, just crash into it.

Unimpressed by the wild ride, D reached into her pocket and took her phone out. She pulled up the messages she had exchanged with Joe since he had arrived in Florence yesterday.

Joe, at 2:40 pm on Wednesday:

Hello from Florence.

Cool city. Only saw little of it so far, but it looks really nice. Can't wait for my private tourist guide to get here.

Work's going okay. Just taking a quick break right now. Hopefully we'll be done by Friday early afternoon. I'll know more tomorrow.

Any ideas for a good place to meet tomorrow? Maybe something close to the station? I'll try to be there by 6:00 pm. Should be around the time you get in from the airport.

Joe

D, at 2:42 pm:

How about meeting at the square of the church that's right across from central station. There's benches.

Joe, at 2:43 pm:

Sounds good. I'll find you.

A few hours later – at 8:20 pm he had texted:

Just checked into the hotel. It's grand... I'm attaching some photos. Thought you need to see this before you come \- the bed, the chairs and the chandelier. Not exactly what I would buy for my own home, but fun for a few days. Makes me feel like I'm residing in a palace two hundred years ago. The only thing missing is the princess to make out with in this royal bed. ;))))

Oh, they provide fluffy nice white bathrobes – my favorite stalker outfit...

Love you!

Joe

D, twenty seconds later:

That's quite some interior design. Great! Very fancy. Can't wait.

Love you too.

D

As the bus drew nearer to the city center, D looked out the window again. They were currently traffic-jamming around a multi-lane roundabout that she thought she recognized from the time when she had stayed with her Florentine host family at seventeen. It had been a fun three-week stay during which she had gotten to know the city – and the Italian life style (including the creative way of driving) relatively well. And somehow, this particular roundabout had left a lasting impression – from several terrifying rides in the host mother's car. If she remembered right, this was located somewhere behind the station. They should be arriving soon.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket.

New text message from Joe:

I'm running late but should be there in twenty minutes. Sorry.

She replied:

No problem. I'll just wait in the park outside the church. Good people watching.

Response:

Love you.

Smiling, D replied:

That's nice...

Joe:

With this kind of response my love's dwindling rapidly.

D:

You'll get a proper response when I see you.

Joe:

Okay. Sounds good.

Once off the bus, D moved with the crowds of people that were heading towards the crosswalk. Traffic on the street around the station was heavy at this time of day – cars, busses and lots of noisy scooters. It was amazing how in Italy everyone seemed to ride them. There were elderly ladies in woolen blazers and skirts riding those things, there were businessman and businesswomen in suits, and there were many young people in summer outfits. Everyone was wearing their helmets, however.

The pedestrian light had already turned green when the last vehicles finally came to a – in some cases – reluctant and screeching halt.

D crossed the street, trying to get ahead of a large group of Asian tourists. On the other side, she headed straight for the big archway that led to the square where Joe was going to meet her. She walked under the archway, the church of Santa Maria di Novella to her right, a big park-like square stretching for several blocks up ahead.

The Asians, who had followed behind her, took a sharp turn to the church, while D walked a little further into the square and found a free bench to sit on.

Leaning back on her outstretched arms, the sun shining on her back, she gazed towards the church, its white and black marble façade currently perfectly lit by the evening sun. She couldn't believe she was actually really back in Florence. And it was even harder to believe that she was here to meet Joe. Had someone indicated such a thing a month ago, she would have burst out laughing and called them totally crazy.

Through the archway people kept spilling in from the street. It was easy to tell the tourists from the locals just by the way they were dressed and by the way the moved. It was mesmerizing to watch this wide variety of nationalities, skin colors and ages move by.

The Asians that had crossed the street with her were just reemerging from the church. D knew it was them because she recognized the weird pink-and-yellow silk flower the tour guide was holding up on a stick to lure her people along. The group was now shuffling down the stairs, everyone looking worn out from probably having been dragged around the city for the entire day. A young gypsy woman with three little children approached them, begging for money.

Suddenly D felt a hand on her shoulder. She whisked around and found Joe grinning down at her.

"Hey," he plopped down on the bench beside her and put an arm around her shoulders. Then he leaned over and kissed her.

"Oh, Wow, Hi," D said, pretending to be shocked. "Do I know you?"

He laughed, scooted away a little and shrugged coolly. "No, actually you don't," he said, playing along, "but since you're sitting here so alone, bella Signorina..."

"Signora," she corrected him in a stuck-up tone. "And I am actually waiting for someone."

"Oh, really?" Joe frowned. "My Italian is non-existent, but I always thought Signora was the married one."

D nodded gracefully.

He chuckled and decided to carry this a bit further. "Who are you waiting for then, bella Signora?" he asked sternly.

"Mio marito. My husband," D said with a gracious nod. "Viene qua. There he is." She pointed towards a nicely-dressed Italian gentleman in his fifties who had just come through the archway. He had a good tan, a head of perfectly-cut grey hair and was wearing dark sunglasses and an expensive-looking silk scarf.

"That's him?" Joe asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes," she nodded, folding her hands in her lap. "He still needs to run a few errands, but then he'll pick me up here."

"Seems a bit old for you," Joe said skeptically.

"Very rich, though," she told him. "And he has a big family. And many brothers."

"Oh," Joe nodded knowingly. "You mean, that kind of family?"

"Yes. A family that's determined to defend their honor and their women if necessary. Just so you know." She gave him a meaningful glance. "They don't like good-looking strangers like yourself hitting on–"

"Oh, but if you think I'm good-looking," Joe interrupted and theatrically clutched his hand to his chest as if he was just absolutely touched, "that's enough for me to want to risk my life. Did I mention that I've got a nice hotel room and..." he pulled out his phone and produced the photo of the big mahogany bed that he had sent her the previous day. "I've got this... Why don't you come with me?"

D gave him a phony shocked look and pressed one of her hands against her collarbone. "I'm not that kind of woman," she exclaimed.

Joe tilted his head to the side and gave her a puzzled look. "What kind of woman are you?" he asked in a by-the-way manner while sliding his phone back into his pocket.

D laughed and turned to him all the way. "A pretty hungry one actually," she said, dropping the act.

"Me too," Joe smiled and put his arm around her again.

Their eyes locking, they looked at each other for a while and D could clearly feel her stomach not just grumble from hunger but also twist with a weird kind of thrill to be back here – with him. She lifted her hand and placed it against his cheek. "I hope I don't suddenly wake up and this is all not true," she said, "because this is..." She broke off for a moment, looking for the right word while trying not to get totally lost in his gaze. He just had the greatest eyes. And unnecessarily long eye-lashes.

"Nice..." Joe said. "The word you're probably looking for is nice..."

She laughed. "Yeah, right. Quite nice..." With that she leaned in and gave him a kiss. "That's the response I still owe you," she whispered and kissed him again.

"That's all?" he whined. "A few little kisses?"

"This is neither the time and nor the place for a more in depth-response," D said.

Joe was just going to shoot something back, when the rumbling of her stomach was suddenly audible.

She clutched her hands to her belly and looked unhappy and embarrassed.

Joe laughed and pushed himself up from the bench.

"Okay, let's go eat." He offered her a hand, "We'll talk about the proper response thing some more once you've been fed."

~~~

They went to eat in a small trattoria at the far end of the square. Luca had recommended it, and the food and service turned out to be excellent.

They had finished all their food – or Joe had finished his and eaten the rest of D's as well – and the plates had just been taken away.

"You should have more wine," Joe said, lifting the carafe of red wine that was still half full.

"I told you not to order so much," D said, rubbing her cheeks that were already turning rosy.

"Come on," he poured her some more.

"Do you want to make me drunk?"

"Might actually be interesting," he said, putting the rest into his own glass. "I've never seen you drunk. Maybe you'll be a more willing victim to take to my lovely hotel room when you're drunk."

"On the contrary, my dear." She took a sip. "What's going to happen if I drink any more, is me falling into that bed of yours and being sound asleep before you can even drop your pants."

"Okay, we don't want that," he decided and reached for her glass as if to take it away. She held on to it. "You gave it to me," she grumbled. "I will drink it now."

"Maybe you should have dessert instead?" Joe suggested with a grin. "But no, you didn't even finish your food, you probably don't want any desert."

"One has absolutely nothing to do with the other," she protested. Then she smiled. "Let's share a tiramisu."

~~~

It was eight-thirty when they left the restaurant – well-fed and a bit tipsy.

"So what have you already seen?" D asked as they strolled through a narrow street towards the Piazza del Duomo, Joe pulling her suitcase. "I mean – you did walk around a bit last night, right?"

"Not a whole lot," he said. "I was kind of tired, so I just took a real short walk – just from the hotel to the cathedral and back. So, I guess, I've seen the cathedral from the outside," he paused and looked ahead. "There it is. I recognize the Duomo now when I see it. I've walked by that fancy door you supposedly just have to see, and I have admired the cupola from down here. I don't need to go up on the campanile, thank you – just in case you were wondering..."

With a smile D reached over and gave his back a quick rub. "I won't drag you up there then."

"Probably has the best view, though," Joe said with a shrug, "You can always go..."

"That's okay," she said. "I've seen it. There are other places with good views that even you might like. There's one up on a hill across the Arno river. Maybe we can go there tomorrow evening."

"Sounds good," Joe said. "Hills are a lot better than towers."

"Where's your customer at?" D asked as they kept walking by the cathedral and took another side street.

"In Fiesole," he said, proud that he actually knew how to say this correctly.

"Oh, okay. Never been there, but I heard it's nice. Out of town, though, right?"

"Yep," he nodded. "South of the city. I took a taxi yesterday and the bus today. That's why I was late – although that guy drove like he was in a Ferrari." He chuckled. "Just a lot of traffic."

She laughed at the comment about the bus ride.

"How come you got a hotel in the city-center?" she asked. "Probably a lot more expensive."

He shrugged. "It's worth it," he said. "Much more to see here. And with you coming..." He reached out and briefly ran his hand over her lower back. "It's so worth it," he repeated with a smile at her. "And on Saturday, if you want, we can take the bus up to Fiesole or the train to Pisa. I actually wouldn't mind seeing the Leaning Tower. "

D laughed. "From below, right? Because you definitely don't want to climb that tower. That's freaky even for people that love heights."

"You don't say..."

"It's true," she grinned. "But yeah, going there on Saturday sounds nice. Or Fiesole. Whatever you like."

"We can just decide spontaneously," Joe said. "Depends on the weather too."

D nodded, realizing that, had this been a vacation with Pete, there'd be no spontaneous decisions. They would have a strict itinerary to stick to at all cost.

"How long do you have to work tomorrow?" she asked.

"I should be done around noon. We can meet for lunch and then –" He shrugged. "You can show me what I need to see. Any ideas?"

Considering an answer, D was pleasantly aware that this might be the first vacation in a long time where she wouldn't be expected to spend hours and hours in art museums. And one could spend entire weeks in art museums here. Pete would want to see them all.

"Do you want to see David?" she asked Joe.

"David?" Joe scratched his head. "Oh, the naked marble guy that Michelangelo made?"

"Oh, so you know him," D said, slightly surprised.

"Not personally, no," Joe chuckled. "But yeah, I've heard of him."

"Well, the real one is in the Academia and you have to stand in line for hours to get in. But there's a fake one – a replica – in one of the squares..."

Joe nodded. "I won't know the difference. Just show me that one."

Two minutes later they reached their hotel, checked D in at the reception and then took the elevator up to the third floor.

"Wow!" D raised her eyebrows in amazement as he pushed the door open for her. The pictures he had sent her didn't do this room justice at all. Like he had said, it wasn't exactly the style you'd chose for your home, but it was grand and impressive and cozy in its own way. High ceilings, hardwood floors, parts of the walls were covered in what looked like silky, structured wallpaper in indigo blue. The windows were framed by impressive curtains that matched the wallpaper and were held back by beige curtain ties with dark blue tassels. The furniture was polished mahogany. There was a big bed with some decorative pillows made from the same fabric as the curtains, there was a nightstand and a dresser on either side of the bed, all with brass handles on the drawers and inlays in lighter wood. Across from the door was a full-length mirror, and in the corner beside the bathroom were two wing chairs. A pale, unsmiling member of the Medici family was glaring down from an oil painting.

"This is very grand," D said with a glance up at the crystal chandelier.

Joe laughed. "And you haven't even seen the bathroom yet!" He pushed the door open and a small white bathtub with feet like brass paws came into sight. "Marble floor, gold plated faucets, and that bathtub..." He grinned. "I'd prefer a plain old shower, but well – it's kind of interesting."

D smiled tentatively. "I'm not going to ask what this costs per night."

"I got a good deal," he assured her and came closer.

"I hope you did," she said and tried to hold his gaze as he pulled her into a close embrace.

"So do we have to go out again?" he asked, batting his eyes and running a hand up her spine. "We could just stay here."

She shook her head, but got on her toes and gave him a quick kiss. "It's still so nice outside," she said and pulled away from him, taking his hand. "Come on, let's take a little sightseeing stroll..."

"Not so fast!" Joe laughed and, with a quick tug on her arm and a squeeze of her hand pulled her back against himself. Moving his free hand up her arm in a persuasive gesture he intently locked eyes with her. "Just so you know, I'd be happy with the sightseeing I get when you just take off some clothes and we make out on this bed." His hand had reached her shoulder and he slid it further back and up, so he was cupping the back of her neck. "You're a sightseeing lover's heaven," he whispered and brought his face close to hers. "Absolutely..." And with that, he crushed his mouth on hers with the clear intention to administer a kiss that was fierce and persuasive enough to make her quickly scrap all her sightseeing plans outdoors.

The kiss was interrupted by D turning her head away a bit and suddenly bursting out laughing.

He gave her a grave, questioning look. He had really thought that was a pretty good kiss.

She was still laughing. "What an incredibly cheesy line," she teased, struggling to pull herself together. "You're a sightseeing lover's heaven," she purred in a bad imitation of him.

Joe pushed his lower lip out like a pouting child.

"So sorry," she giggled and raised a hand to stroke his cheek consolingly. "So, so sorry! I really didn't want to break your heart, but that line..."

He huffed out a laugh and snapped for her hand that she pulled away just in time. "I thought it was a great line," he claimed. "And a good kiss..."

"Yeah, it was a good kiss. Maybe you can save that for later? For when we get back..."

"Okay," he sighed. "I see how it is... Guess I don't have a choice." He pulled away and took her hand. "Let's go see David."

~~~

"Piazza della Signoria," Joe read from a sign, hoping he hadn't gotten the pronunciation totally wrong.

They had just stepped out between some buildings onto a large square.

D walked ahead to the very center and then made a grand gesture to her left. "The Uffici Gallery over here, the Palazzo Vecchio over there. They are both art museums. And – if you would please follow me..." She walked a little further and then pointed up at the big statue in front of them. "Here is David."

"Oh," Joe stepped up beside her and slung an arm around her waist. "So, that's the fake one?" He shot an interested look up.

"Mhmm," D nodded and waited for what she just knew was coming.

She could see his gaze slowly and intently travel from David's curly head down all the way to the toes – only briefly stopping along the way. From the toes, it flickered up again about halfway, a faint smirk appearing on his face.

"So this is David..." he said with a glance at her. "Isn't he supposed to be some sort of male beauty ideal?"

"I know exactly what you're thinking," D said, her eyes on David rather than Joe as that made it easier not to start laughing.

"Great, then I don't have to tell you that some of the proportions on this guy are a bit off?"

"You're horrible!" D said with fake dismay.

"Why? I'm just observing that he's got extremely large hands" Joe said in a tone as if he were a serious and renowned art critic. "And compared to these hands some other body parts seem frighteningly small, if I may say so." He gave her an innocent look. Then, with a gentle rub of his hand over her hip he said, "Okay. Where to now?"

She thought about it for a moment.

"We could walk down this way towards the river and walk across the Ponte Vecchio, that's the world-famous bridge that you just have to have seen when you're here. And then we can head back to the hotel. Maybe get some gelato on the way."

Five minutes later they arrived at the river. "There it is," D pointed towards a bridge that seemed to have many very small, narrow houses built on it, one right next to the other.

"That's interesting," Joe said as they crossed the busy river-side street.

"Those are all jewelry stores," D explained. "The houses on the bridge."

"You're kidding..."

They were walking on the sidewalk that followed the river over to the bridge. "Who needs that many jewelry stores?"

D shrugged. "Obviously there's enough demand. It's been there forever."

Once they set foot onto the bridge, Joe saw that, indeed, all the small houses had jewelry shops with grand window displays on the ground floor.

Some of the windows were just loaded with necklaces, bracelets, rings, pendants and earrings – too much of everything – others exhibited only a few, very modern and artsy looking pieces that didn't even have a price tag.

Hand in hand they strolled across the bridge, stopping here and there, with neither of them particularly interested in the displayed merchandise. Even D, Joe realized with amazement, seemed more taken by some of the very interesting people that were frequenting this bridge than by the jewelry that was sold here.

They had made it about halfway across the bridge, when a couple came bursting out of one of the shops right next to where D was standing and almost bumped into her. She stepped aside and snorted into their direction, but they were too busy with each other to even notice that they had almost caused a collision with another human being. The man was probably in his sixties, had dyed blonde hair that he wore in an interesting comb-over, the top three buttons of his shirt were open and revealed a waxed chest that was as overly-tanned as his face. The woman, who could have been his daughter (if not granddaughter), wore a skinny, short dress, high heels and was smiling up at him adoringly. "Thank you so much, Honey," she chirped and ran a manicured hand over an egg-sized gemstone pendant that was dangling from a massive gold chain around her neck. "You made me very happy..."

Something about her reminded Joe of Liz. Even more so, as the two walked away now, the woman snuggling up to the guy, theatrically brushing her blonde hair back. This could very well be Liz in a couple of years – with Fantastic Bob or any other Sugar Daddy she might still pick up.

The thought of Liz and what a visit to this bridge would be like with her, made Joe spontaneously put his arm around D's shoulder and pull her against his side. "I love you," he whispered, leaning down to her ear as if this was some really confidential information.

She laughed. "You're just saying that so you don't have to buy me one of those monstrous things that she had..."

Joe frowned. "Do you want one?" He managed to make it sound like a serious offer. "But you'd have to wear it every day then, of course."

She defensively raised a hand. "No thanks!" She made an exaggeratedly scared face.

"Why not?"

"Because then I'd have to get the dress and the fingernails to go with it," she replied.

He coughed. "Oh, please don't. I won't get it for you then..."

"Thanks," she blew out a sigh to demonstrate her great relief at having avoided such a gift.

They had reached the end of the bridge and D stopped beside the last shop. "You don't want to walk back the same way, do you?" she asked, while absently glancing into the shop window beside her.

Joe shook his head. "Nope, not really. We can take the next bridge back and get some ice cream on the way." His gaze had trailed off towards the window as well. Suddenly something in that window caught his eye: In the rear right hand corner lay a small golden alligator pendant.

He glanced at D. And realized that she had seen it too.

"It's kind of cute..." he said, his hand skating across her back.

"Yeah, it's cute," she nodded. "But they're already closed anyway, so..."

Glancing past the display into the store, Joe realized that she was right. Everything looked dark in there.

# Firenze

(Friday, September 20th)

The next day they had breakfast together in the amazing, sun-flooded hall downstairs. Then Joe left for Fiesole to finish his project, and D – after spending a little more time in the room – left the hotel, took a stroll around the historic center, had a cappuccino across from the Duomo – a great spot for people-watching – and then did some shopping.

Joe was going to call her when he was done working, and they would meet for lunch at a place that Luca had recommended – the rooftop café on the top floor of a department store right in the historic center.

~~~

Joe finished his work earlier than anticipated. It was only eleven when he slipped into his jacket and went over to Luca's office to say goodbye.

Luca was just getting up from his big leather chair, his briefcase in hand.

"Okay," Joe said with a grand gesture. "It's done. And I'm here to say goodbye."

"Thanks so much," Luca came around the desk and shook his hand. "I'm so glad it's done and fixed."

"Yeah, it should be fixed," Joe said.

"Do you need a ride into the city?" Luca offered. "I'm driving down there right now."

"Yeah, that would be perfect actually," Joe said.

Together they walked down the stairs and exited through the back door right into the employees' parking lot.

Luca headed towards a bright red vintage Alfa Spider convertible.

"Nice car..." Joe said with an impressed nod.

Luca laughed. "Yes. This was my childhood dream."

"Awesome," Joe chuckled and got into the Alfa. "What year?"

"Eighty-one."

The car didn't just look nice from the outside. It had a beautiful leather interior and, once Luca started it, it became clear that this car also had an amazing-sounding engine.

Unsurprisingly, Luca drove like a true Italian... Compared to that, Joe realized, his own driving was very civilized and almost boring. Sarah wouldn't see it like that, of course, but she had never driven with Luca...

"I can drop you off at the hotel," Luca offered while passing a van on a narrow road with little view ahead.

"No, that's really not necessary," Joe said. "Just let me out anywhere."

"Where are you meeting your girlfriend?" Luca inquired.

"At the place you told me about," Joe replied.

"La Rinascente," Luca smiled. "Great view up there. You feel like you can almost touch the cupola. I can take you there."

Joe laughed and shook his head. "No, really, just drop me off anywhere. I actually still need to do something before I meet her."

"Tell me where you need to go and I'll drive you," Luca insisted.

"Okay," Joe said hesitantly. "If you really don't mind, somewhere around the river would be best. I think I'll take a quick walk across that bridge with all the jewelry shops."

"Il Ponte Vecchio," Luca concluded.

Joe nodded. "Yeah. Just don't ask me to pronounce it."

Luca laughed and glanced over. "Will you buy something?"

Joe shrugged. "I might."

~~~

It was a little after twelve when Joe arrived at the rooftop terrace. D had been there for a while. Her feet had gotten tired after walking around so much, and she had decided to just go to the café and wait for him there.

Sitting at a table on the side of the rooftop terrace that was overlooking the Piazza del Duomo, she was reading a book on her phone, a half-full glass of Lemon Soda on the table in front of her and bags from Benetton, Coin and La Rinascente on the floor beside her.

She only noticed Joe when he was already standing next to her.

"Hi." His hand on her shoulder he leaned down and gave her a quick, warm kiss. "Sorry, it took so long."

"No problem," she smiled.

Straightening up, Joe let his gaze travel towards the view beyond the terrace and raised his eyebrows. "Wow!" he said, "Luca sure didn't exaggerate."

"No, this is the absolutely perfect view," D beamed while pushing back her chair. She got up, stepped closer to the railing beside their table and leaned her arms on it. Looking towards the cupola of the Duomo that lay just a few hundred meters away almost at eye level, she smiled. "It's like you can actually touch it." She glanced over her shoulder at Joe who was still standing a few steps away from the railing and had just pulled his phone out. "I hate selfies," he said with an apologetic smile, "but I think we need to make an exception in this case."

Laughing, she turned to him all the way and leaned her back against the railing. Joe turned around too and took the two steps back so he stood right beside her. Then he leaned his head against hers and held out the phone as far as he could in an attempt to capture not only their faces but also part of the Duomo. "Okay, smile," he said. And Click.

"You've got to look down over there too," D said and pointed towards the opposite side of the terrace while sitting back down on her chair. "There's the Piazza della Republica down there."

"No, thanks!" Joe shook his head and pulled out the chair across from her. "Just being up here is freaky enough." He pretended to shiver a bit. "I really don't feel like actually leaning over that railing and looking down anywhere..."

D laughed. "I know. I just forgot. Sorry." She reached over and gave his shoulder an apologetic rub.

"Oh, you just forgot..." he grumbled teasingly and threw a hand up. "Yeah, yeah, what did I expect?"

D laughed. "Poor you," she said and reached over to comfortingly run the palm of her hand over his cheek. Joe got hold of that hand before she could pull it away again, kissed a few of her knuckles with a saintly bat of his eyes and then snapped for her little finger. "The next time you forget, I will bite the pinky off and you'll always remember..." he announced and released her hand.

The waiter came and brought the menus. They ordered another Lemon Soda for Joe and some Bruschetta and Mozarella with Tomato to eat.

"What did you say the name of that square is?" Joe asked after the waiter had left. "The one on the other side." He pointed his thumb behind himself.

"Piazza della Republica," she said.

He nodded. "I might be wrong, but I think Luca was talking about some museum in that square. Sounded kind of interesting – at least to me. Not so sure it's your kind of thing..."

She gave him a questioning look. "Why? What is it?"

"An exhibit on Renaissance engineering. Supposedly they're showing something about the construction of the cupola and replicas of machines and stuff that Leonardo da Vinci and his pals invented."

"Mona Lisa's Leonardo?" she asked with surprise.

"That same one," Joe confirmed. "Was an inventor as well. I didn't know either until Luca told me."

She shrugged. "Actually, that sounds kind of interesting. And I'm shopped and walked out for a while anyway."

"What did you buy?" he asked with a glance at the bags.

"A sweater, a silk scarf and some woolen gloves for winter," she said. "I was going to buy you a silk scarf too, since you liked Pete's so much," she grinned, "but then I didn't."

"Thank you." He sounded truly grateful.

After lunch they took the escalators down two floors. As they passed through the men's department, D showed Joe which scarf she had supposedly almost bought him.

"It's actually a nice pattern," he said and stepped up to the table. He picked up a tie that was made from the same fabric. "Maybe I'll just get this."

"Well – can I get it for you?" she asked hesitantly. "Since you're paying for the room?"

"Okay. Sure – get me that tie," there was a little smirk. "That's when life starts to get boring," he said, "when women start buying you ties..."

"I'm not bored yet," she protested with mock indignation.

"Neither am I!" he laughed and leaned down for a kiss.

After paying for the tie they left the store and walked across the big square over to the museum.

The Renaissance Engineers exhibit turned out to be really interesting. On display were various wooden constructions based on the drawings of Leonardo da Vinci and others. There was a helicopter, hang gliders, a hydraulic pump, even musical instruments – each piece with a detailed description of its intended function, along with a copy of the drawing it was based on.

When they stepped out onto the Piazza della Republica again, it was almost four in the afternoon. The sun was still out, but some clouds had appeared in the sky.

They walked back to the hotel, dropped off D's bags, split a candy bar and left again to explore the part of the city that lay on the other side of the Arno river and to maybe find a good place for dinner over there.

They took the Ponte Santa Trinita across the river and then started walking down the Viale Maggio towards Palazzo Pitti. They soon got very fed up with this route, however. There were so many tourists groups coming towards them, and they had to literally fight their way through all those people, while at the same time trying not to be pushed off the sidewalk into the busy street where scooters, busses and lots of cars were buzzing by.

They walked behind each other for a while, with Joe leading the way. When there was a brief moment with no one coming the other way, he turned around, took D's hand and quickly pulled her into the next-best side-street.

"I just hate these crowds," he huffed as they walked further down that street.

It was nice and quiet here, no cars, no tourists and one could actually move freely. After a few meters, Joe stopped nevertheless. A broad smile appearing on his face, he leaned his back against a house wall and pulled her against himself.

"What are you doing" she asked feigning cluelessness.

"Nothing," he lied and put his arms around her waist.

"Okay, Thank God," she sighed, her eyes locked with his.

He chuckled mischievously, leaned in and brought his lips to hers – for a soft, teasing brush. When he saw her eyes close, he went for a real full kiss, sliding his tongue between her lips before gently catching her lower lip between his teeth and pulling on it.

The kiss might have heated up considerably if it had lasted long enough. They were interrupted, however, by the door beside them suddenly opening.

It made them pull apart and D straighten out her shirt.

An elderly lady with a cane and a shopping bag stepped out of the door, giving them a little, dreamy smile. "Oh, l'amore..." she sighed. "E la pui bella cosa." Then she hobbled away, leaning on her cane.

Joe had stepped away from the wall and taken hold of D's hand again. "What did she say?" he asked as they continued walking down the street behind the old lady. "I mean – even I know what amore means, but the rest..."

D chuckled a little uncomfortably and shrugged. "Well, I guess it sounds a lot more lovely in Italian, but she basically said that love's the most beautiful thing."

Joe grinned. "Sounds pretty good in any language..."

When they reached the end of this street, they turned into the next one to the right, which was a little wider and livelier, with some shops and restaurants, but no through-traffic.

After studying the menus of several restaurants they decided on a small tucked away place that looked cozy, clean, wasn't overly expensive and – upon entry – smelled absolutely heavenly.

A handsome young waiter, offered them a nicely set table at the window, lit the candle in the center and handed them two leather-bound menus.

They studied the options for a while, talked about what to have, had a little discussion about how much wine to order this time and if to get a mixed salad each or one to share.

Finally they closed their menus, ready to order.

"You tell him," Joe whispered, nudging her knee under the table as the young waiter approached their table.

"Why?" she whispered back.

"Because you know Italian, and because I love to hear it..."

So she ordered. Piccata Milanese for Joe, Lasagna for herself, a mixed salad to share, a liter of mineral water and a small carafe of red wine.

"We didn't bring an umbrella, did we?" Joe asked with a glance out the window. There were a few thick, dark clouds in the sky now – or at least in the bit of sky they could see from their window.

D shook her head. "At some point I actually thought about bringing one, but then I must have gotten distracted when we were back at the hotel."

He raised his eyebrows. "Distracted?" His voice was laced with fake disbelief. "When we were back at the hotel?"

Her face stern, she pointed a finger at him. "Distracted by you..." she snarled.

"Oh, that." He grinned.

"Yeah, that," D said and reached over and slid her hand on top of his. "Maybe we get lucky and it'll stay dry."

He laughed, gave her hand a squeeze back. "I would kind of doubt it, but who knows. Besides, we're not made of sugar anyway."

"Living on the edge..." she grinned, leaned across the table and gave him a quick kiss.

# Views, Kisses and Some New Ideas

(Friday, September 20th)

"Do you still want to walk up to Michelangelo Square?" D asked.

They had just stepped out of the restaurant, both feeling a little exhausted from too much food and wine, and not quite sure what to think about the weather.

Joe glanced up at the sky where the sun was just coming out between the dark clouds again. "I think we should still go," he said, squinting into the sunlight. "Might be kind of cool – with the sun and the clouds like this."

"Sure," she said with a little shrug and a smile. "Let's do it then. We can always take a bus back if it really starts raining."

He took her hand and slid his fingers between hers. "You lead the way, though," he said. "Because I think I'm pretty lost here..."

She laughed and shook her head. "Right. First you drag me through some dark alleys, you do everything to distract me, you give me wine on top of everything else, and in the end I'm expected to find the way back to the river?"

"Well, if you can't do it," Joe said, batting his eyes, "I might have to find a nice local girl to show me the way..."

D gave him an exaggeratedly narrow-eyed look that made them both laugh.

"I think I can find the way," she said then and motioned to her right.

"Okay. Good." Joe tightened his grip around her hand.. "Then I'll just stay with you for right now..."

They headed back to the river, followed it for a while towards the Porta San Nicolo and then started their ascent.

They had to climb several flights of stairs that led up the hill in a zig-zag fashion.

Every once in a while they stopped for a little rest, a hug or a kiss – or both – and tried to ignore the clouds that were getting thicker and darker overhead.

After about ten minutes they reached the top. Piazzale Michelangelo. A big square – part viewpoint terrace, part parking lot, part forestry park. They had arrived at the large viewpoint terrace that was surrounded by a stone railing and overlooking the old town of Florence.

Instead of turning around and enjoying the view, however, Joe kept walking further towards the center of the square where a monument had caught his eye – a giant bronze sculpture on a pedestal. Behind it lay the big parking lot and the bus stop for the public bus.

"Who's that?" he asked pointing at the sculpture. "Michelangelo?"

"I'm not sure," D admitted, following him.

As they drew closer, Joe cleared his throat. "I know this hand..." he said merrily, "and the miniscule body part next to it..."

D had stopped beside him and was giving him an extra dark look. There was something to be said for people who really appreciated art. He surely wasn't one of them!

Joe was laughing now. "It's David again!" He joyously threw out a hand. "He's all over the place."

"Yeah, yeah, it's David," D muttered, trying to keep a straight face, which was very hard when Joe couldn't stop laughing.

"Okay. Sorry!" he finally said, his expression turning more serious again.

"Now leave David alone," D said and took his hand. "We're here for the view. So come and admire it."

She pulled him back towards where they had come up the stairs and he obediently followed her. They stepped closer to the stone railing. The historic center of Florence lay before them, the red cupola of the Duomo and the campanile in black and white marble sticking out.

"Perfect view," Joe said and stepped behind her.

"Mhmm," D nodded, her eyes on the city below and all her senses tuned to him.

"Perfect view and perfect company," he whispered and wrapped his arms around her from behind.

"Mhmm," she mumbled again and briefly closed her eyes.

Smiling to himself, an amazing tingle running through his stomach, Joe blew a kiss onto her temple and clasped his hands over her stomach. He could feel her relax against him.

"Great company, yeah..." she whispered and placed her hands over his.

For a while they just stood like this – gazing down at the city and close enough to feel each other breathe. Despite the faint noise from the street below, it was kind of peaceful and quiet up here, and for a few minutes they got totally lost in the view, their thoughts – and the great company...

After a few minutes Joe broke the silence by clearing his throat. There was this issue he had had on his mind for three days now, and he absolutely needed to get it out.

"I've got to tell you something," he said slowly, not even sure himself that this was a very good time to do this.

D turned her head and shot him a questioning glance over her shoulder. "Hopefully it's not about Liz visiting you again," she said, trying for a joking tone, but sounding a little nervous.

"No," he shook his head, softly rubbing his chin against the shell of her ear. "Nothing like that. It's nothing bad, actually. It's just..." He broke off and swallowed. "I talked to Steve on Tuesday."

There was a moment of silence.

"About what?" Her tone indicated that she had a few scary ideas already.

"I told Steve that I won't be coming back to the office permanently..." Joe said, his eyes fixed on the Ponte Vecchio.

"What?" There was a mix of disbelief and shock. And at the same time, he could feel her tense up in his arms.

"We had a talk about some general issues," Joe explained as matter-of-factly as he could. "And I–" He fell silent when she pulled away and wiggled out of his embrace.

"You – you can't just give it up," she stammered.

"I'm not giving it up," he said confusedly.

"You love the job, it's your company, you can't –"

"Danny..."

"If this is because of what I said on the phone the other day... I wasn't being fair. I mean – I know that you have to be close to R&D, and that you'll probably just have to rent a place somewhere around there. That's life..."

"Believe it or not," Joe said and pushed his hands into the pockets of his jacket, "but I've kind of been pondering that problem for quite a while myself. Even before you brought it up. Having only weekends with you doesn't sound good at all!"

D glanced up. She was chewing on her lower lip now.

He gave her a crooked smile and pushed his hands deeper into his pockets. Through the lining he could feel the small bag from the Ponte Vecchio that he had slipped into the inside pocket before meeting her for lunch.

"I can work from Innsbruck," he told her calmly.

"Yeah right."

"I can," he insisted.

"And then you'll hate me in a few months," she predicted.

Joe couldn't help laughing. "Well, if that's the case I'll quickly flee back to my office. Or I'll see if I can move back in with Liz."

D gave him an extra-dark look and growled.

He laughed. Then he turned serious again. "It's not just some spontaneous idea. I've really thought this through. And I've talked it over with Steve. We're still going to own R&D together. I might have to go there for a day every other week to sign some stuff and for some meetings. And I'll probably need to be at the office while Steve's on vacation. But apart from that, there's no reason I couldn't be working out of Innsbruck." He gave her a crooked smile. "I want to focus more on programming anyway. That's the part I like. Much more than all the administrative crap and the marketing. That's more Steve's thing. He likes it and he's good at it, and I'm not." He paused for a moment and sucked in a quick breath. "I'm also going to drastically cut back on business trips. There's not that much travelling left to do anyway. I sometimes just went so that I could get away from–" he broke off and decided against mentioning Liz right now.

"Anyway..." He shrugged. "The only customers I'd probably still visit myself would be SCANY in Amsterdam, a company in Sweden – and maybe Luca here."

Having finished his little speech, he tilted his head and looked at her.

She was gazing at the ground. "I don't really know what to say," she said with a helpless shrug.

Joe pulled his hands out of his pockets and put them on her shoulders. "You could say... for example..." He switched to a really cheesy tone. "That's sooo great, Joe! That's exactly what I've been dreaming of all my life!" He gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze while he carried on, his eyes meshing with hers now that she had looked up at him again. "Oh, Joe, this solves all our problems! Yes, please come to Innsbruck. And if Sarah kicks you out, you can always move in with me..."

She let out a weak chuckle and blinked a few times.

"Hey..." He raised a hand to her face and brushed her cheek. "The moving-in-together thing was just a joke. So, don't worry."

"That part actually sounded kind of nice, in a way," she said.

He chuckled. "Well, good."

She weakly shook her head. "Man, I can't believe this..."

"I'm still getting used to it myself," he said. "But after talking to Steve, it actually started to feel more real. Now I just have to tell Sarah." He leaned down for a quick kiss on her nose. "And I love you, by the way."

It made her get on her toes and cautiously catch his lower lip between her lips while she pushed her hands into his hair. "I love you too."

"Good..." He brought his face closer to hers and started another round of much more determined kissing.

As the kiss evolved, he backed her up against the stone railing and briefly wondered if he should try to lift her up so she would sit on the banister. This would open up a whole range of additional, interesting make-out position.

But then his considerations were cut short, when he felt a raindrop. And another one...

They pulled apart and both glanced up at the sky.

It looked really dark now. And it was starting to rain harder. Big drops. And more of them every second...

Joe shot an undecided look over to the opposite side of the square, where the public bus had come and gone twice while they'd been here.

"What do you wanna do?" he asked.

"It's probably going to be ten minutes until the next bus," she said, blinking as a raindrop had just hit her eye. "Maybe we should just run?"

He skeptically glanced at her shoes, trying to decide if those were really appropriate for running down wet stairs and hurrying across slippery cobble stone streets.

"My shoes are fine," she told him and took his hand. "Come on."

He shrugged. "Sure... Let's run then. Summer rain is supposed to be good for the skin anyway, right?"

Laughing and pelted by raindrops, they headed back down the stairs.

# Toothbrush Variations

(Friday, September 20th)

They were both drenched by the time they arrived at the hotel. The receptionist gave them a sympathetic look as they burst into the lobby – panting, giggling and dripping from top to toe.

They took the elevator up, leaving small puddles.

At the room they put the Do not disturb sign out, closed and locked their door and started peeling out of their wet clothes.

Once in his boxer shorts that had remained dry, Joe crossed his arms over his chest and looked at D, who was just dropping her wet shirt with pointed fingers. She had goose pumps all over.

"I think you should just shower first," he said with a nod towards the bathroom. "I've kind of toyed with the idea of us showering together, and it's quite a turn-on, but I don't think that silly bathtub in there could take us both. One of those legs would probably break off. So..."

D nodded. Shivering, she rubbed her hands over her arms, water dripping from her hair onto her shoulders and her bra.

"Okay, I'll be quick," she said and headed into the bathroom. "Why don't you take your bathrobe, though?" She had already grabbed it from the hook and was holding it out to him.

"Sure, thanks."

Once the bathroom door had closed, Joe waited until he could hear the shower running, and the incredibly loud bathroom fan came on. Then he went over to the fancy coat rack where he had hung his jacket and reached into the inside pocket. He took out the small parchment bag from the jewelry store out and fiddled with it for a moment. Then he pulled something out and quickly transferred it to one of his bathrobe pockets. The parchment bag and its remaining contents he slipped back into his jacket.

Releasing a long breath, he glared towards the window for a moment before sitting down on the bed. He pulled D's guidebook closer and started flipping through the pages.

~~~

Ten minutes later:

Wrapped in her white bathrobe, her hair still a little damp from only blow-drying it halfway, D was standing at the window looking down into the square, when Joe returned from his shower – wet hair, barefoot, white bathrobe.

He stepped up to her from behind, placed his hands left and right of her on the windowsill and leaned his head over her shoulder, his cheek against her temple.

"Hey there," he whispered.

He could feel her leaning into him.

"You smell good," she said and pretended to inhale extra deeply.

"So do you," Joe chuckled against her ear. Then he leaned down and placed some kisses on the area of bare skin between her shoulder and her neck – one of his hands leaving the windowsill and grasping the collar of her bathrobe so he could pull it further away from her neck towards her shoulder and expose more skin to kiss.

"And now you're going to totally send me over the edge, huh?" she mumbled a little hoarsely.

"Mhmm, trying to," he confirmed under his breath, the hand sliding under the collar, his fingertips dancing from her neck down along the edge of the bathrobe. He could hear her swallow.

When he reached the narrow, soft valley between her breasts, he held his hand still for a moment – just for kicks – and considered pulling his hand out and sliding it back in on the other side – palm down.

He was just about to do it, when D turned around to face him and his hand slipped out anyway.

She gave him an amused, somewhat challenging look, her hands locking behind his neck. "Guess what!" she announced with a twinkle in her eyes. "It doesn't work! I'm totally unimpressed."

"Yeah, right," he mocked, draping his arms around her waist and letting one hand slip to her bottom, giving it a playful squeeze.

Her gaze meshing with his, D tried to keep a serious face. "I feel nothing," she claimed with an exaggeratedly indifferent shrug.

"Man you're so hard to impress," Joe moaned, playing along. His mouth twitching, he moved that hand up to her face, slid it along her jaw and, after a quick glance at her lips, kissed her. It was a tease. She leaned in for more, met his lips, tilted her head and started an exhilarating exchange of light, swift, open-mouth kisses that just brush by and leave both participants breathless and with their heads spinning.

"That's not going to do it," D finally proclaimed bravely despite a serious rush of light-headedness.

"Oh, it's not?" Joe feigned deep disappointment and blew a few small kisses from her cheek back to her ear and then playfully bit her earlobe.

"You're so not my type," she claimed, but the slightly gasping tone contradicted the message.

"Oh, I'm not?" He resisted the urge to close his eyes as he felt her fingers trace the shell of his ear. "I guess then there's nothing we can do." He let his arms fall to his side in defeat and pretended to accept the senselessness of his endeavor.

"Well, don't give up so easily," D chuckled and gently slid her hands around his face. "Maybe it does work," she gave him a wide smile. "A little bit at least." She got on her toes, tipped her nose against his and kissed him. A warm, moist kiss with a hint of tongue as if to test something.

"Yeah, maybe it works a little bit," he breathed, imitating her tone and pulled her closer, a hand firmly against her upper back now, the other coming up and cupping her neck. And then he crushed his mouth onto hers for what he considered to be a proper tongue-engaging kiss.

She closed her eyes and countered – properly.

After an exhilarating ninety seconds of this, Joe broke the kiss and loosened his embrace a bit.

"Hey, even if I'm not your type," he whispered, blowing a kiss onto her temple. "Why don't we just relocate to that soft plush bed over there? We can get rid of these bathrobes and have some meaningless sex? You can always pretend I'm someone else." He pulled back a little in order to check her expression.

D let out an amused but somewhat shaky breath. "Yeah, I'll think about it," she said and straightened out her bathrobe – a move that stood in stark contrast to what Joe had wanted.

"I was talking about taking it off," Joe reminded her, his hands moving to her belt, tugging on it.

"I know," she laughed and put her hands on his, making him stop fiddling with the knot. "But actually, I need to use the bathroom first. And since you've obviously brushed your teeth, I feel kind of unworthy now. Let me just quickly brush my teeth too, okay?"

At the mention of brushing teeth, a brief shadow seemed to flash over Joe's face. "You taste fine to me," he announced and gave her another in-depth kiss to prove his point.

"Fine, yeah, thanks," she giggled and wiggled away, briefly stroking his cheek. "I'll be right back..."

"Okay. But don't brush your teeth yet," he insisted. "We'll have some chocolate later... Do not brush your teeth. Do you hear me?"

"Yeah, whatever," she chuckled and headed into the bathroom.

A minute later, D was about to leave the bathroom again – without having brushed her teeth. But then she felt something in her eye that made her return to the mirror. Squinting and rolling her eyes, she finally managed to locate and remove a stray eyelash from the very corner of her left eye. She rinsed it off her finger and then, lost in sweet thoughts, reached for her electric toothbrush that stood upright on the shelf next to the sink. No matter what Joe had said about chocolate later, she really felt like brushing her teeth right now. And since she had forgotten her own toothpaste, she grabbed Joe's like the previous night. She was about to squirt some on the bristles, when she suddenly noticed the ring.

Resting right around where the toothbrush head connected to the handle, sat a golden ring – with a mid-sized perfectly shaped diamond. And sticking out from between the toothbrush head and the handle was a small narrow paper strip.

D swallowed.

Her eyes wide, her mouth suddenly totally dry, she dropped the tube of toothpaste into the sink and just kept staring at the toothbrush in her hand – and the ring – and the paper strip. The tiny letters on the paper were hard to decipher when the hand holding the toothbrush was trembling so badly. She forced herself to keep it steady just long enough to read the message. In Joe's slightly uneven scribble it said:

Something to think about... Joe

Her free hand grabbing hold of the rim of the sink for stability, D sucked in a shaky breath. Her heart was pumping like crazy and her mind was temporarily stuck. Joe's 'Don't brush your teeth' was ringing in her ears again.

A minute or so passed, with her just breathing and glaring at the toothbrush in her hand.

Finally, she straightened up. Drawing in a deep breath, she stepped away from the sink and turned around. Like a sleep-walker she shuffled out of the bathroom – carrying the electric toothbrush like a dangerously flaming torch.

Joe was sitting on the side of the bed, one leg bent under him. He had glanced up from the guide book when he had heard the bathroom door open. At the sight of what she was holding in her hand, his expression froze. It took only two seconds for him to catch himself, however.

"You weren't supposed to brush your teeth," he reminded her, a crooked smile appearing on his face.

D stared at him blankly. "What...?" she was hardly getting a sound out. "What is this?"

Joe cocked his head a little. "What does it look like?"

Instead of an answer, D blew out a breath and, shoulders slumped, plopped down on the corner of the bed, half a meter away from him. There she sat, both hands wrapped around the toothbrush that sat upright on her lap now.

"This is–" she started, but then just shrugged and dropped her head.

"...something to think about," Joe completed her sentence in a calm tone. He scooted over to her. "And there's no rush and no pressure and... well, just something to think about." Sitting right beside her now, he laid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer.

She didn't put up any resistance.

Leaning the side of his head against hers, Joe raised his free hand and reached over. He took the ring between his thumb and index finger and held it like this for a moment.

He let out a shaky chuckle. "Pretty scary, isn't it?" he said and let go of the ring, only to place his hand on her thigh with a gentle, encouraging rub. "I'm glad I'm not the only one freaked out a bit" he whispered close to her ear. "But it feels right. Even now that you found it a bit prematurely, and even though you didn't break out in tears of joy and you didn't sigh how beautiful it is." He placed a soft kiss on her temple.

Letting out a weak, little chuckle, D glanced up at him, then back to the toothbrush. "Not a movie moment," she said with a mix of guilt and amusement. "The audience would be rolling their eyes in frustration..."

"You bet."

He watched her take the ring between her fingers and cautiously pull it over the bristles of her toothbrush.

"It is beautiful," she said as that was self-evident. "Perfect..." She turned to face him, her eyes meshing with his. A little frown appeared on her face. "I can't believe you were trying to drag me into bed here, while this," her eyes briefly flickered back to the ring, "was already set up in there..."

Joe burst out laughing. "Well, I was afraid you wouldn't want to sleep with me if you had any idea I might want to marry you afterwards." He grinned.

D laughed.

"When did you get that?" she asked, holding the ring up between her thumb and index finger and letting the diamond reflect the light from the bedside lamp.

"When I came back from work today," he said. "Decided to take a stroll across the jewelry bridge. Wanted to get that alligator."

She huffed out a bewildered breath. "Oh, and then you just..."

He shrugged. "I got you the alligator too. But then I decided, since they had some pretty nice rings and I was already in there..."

She smiled. "You make it sound so romantic and well-planned."

Joe chuckled. "Planned or not – once the idea came up, the decision was amazingly quick and easy." He snapped his fingers to demonstrate just how quick and easy it had been.

"I love it," she said with a shy smile, and slipped the ring on with shaky fingers. "Really. I love it." She held out her hand, fingers pressed together, holding the ring in place.

"Shoot, it's too loose!" Joe reached for her hand and wiggled the ring on her finger. It really was loose. Obviously she had even smaller hands than he had thought. "Maybe I need to find a girl that it will fit perfectly," he contemplated, glancing from her hand to her face with a playful frown. "But then..." he shrugged. "No, actually..." He smiled and brushed his thumb over the back of her hand. "Since I love you, maybe we'll just get the ring adjusted."

Making a fist and pulling the hand with the ring to her chest as if to protect it, D nodded. "Yeah, just get the ring adjusted, would you?"

"So you consider keeping it?"

She turned to face him. "Mhmm," she confirmed, a lopsided smile appearing on her face. "I'll definitely keep the ring!" She raised her ringless hand and slid it along the collar of his bathrobe to the back of his neck and pulled his face a little closer – within kissing-range. "And, I'll keep you," she whispered and gave him a soft kiss. "At least for right now... Oh, and I love you, too."

"Good," Joe smiled broadly. "Great! Nice to hear. Now take off that loose ring and then that bathrobe and come closer! And I mean a lot closer..."

Please review this book! Since there is no well-funded marketing machinery to promote this book, it's up to you as a reader to help get the word out. Please share your thoughts on D's and Joe's story in a short review!

Billy Wood-Smith

**Note from the author:**

I think we can rely on Joe and D to make it now...

Please review this book! Since there is no well-funded marketing machinery to promote this book, it's up to you as a reader to help get the word out. Please share your thoughts on D's and Joe's story in a short review!

Billy Wood-Smith

