Disclaimers: None. If you’re still reading my stuff at this point, you pretty well know what you’re getting into. If you don’t have an open mind or if you find something you think needs disclaiming, you are still more than welcome to let me know. It won’t change anything, but it may make you feel better. Ugliness will earn you a smack to the back of your head.

Thanks: To Phil, Mac and Jeanne for reading through this for me to pick up Pink & Fluffy’s dropped letters. Their contribution to making this a better read is much appreciated.

Author’s Notes: This was an idea that occurred to me on an interminable flight home from Europe. It was supposed to be a short story – it didn’t quite work out that way.

The Storyteller’s Cardinal Rule is in effect.

Aftermath

By D

avaliantheart01@gmail.com

Sometimes it is easy to see what is right in front of us – and sometimes the things that should be obvious are the most difficult to see. This is one such story.

They were enemies from the first – there was simply no other way to describe them... at least as far as they were concerned. Always on the opposite side of every argument. Everything always a fight... a competition. Nothing was easy between them.

And why should it be? They were nothing alike... NOTHING. They only thing they seemed to share was a passion for their work – and even that put them at constant odds with one another.

One would think – watching them – that they hated one another... that there was a deep resentment between them. One wealthy and cultured; the other rough and unpolished. One athletic and strong; the other graceful and delicate. One hot tempered by nature; the other cold as ice. Both brilliant in their own regard; both passionate and sensitive.

Every time they were forced to interact, their colleagues gathered around to watch the sparks fly and place bets as to who would give in... who would take the first swing. Not that they had actually come to blows – YET – but most only believed it was only a matter of time.

Yet neither of them were prepared to give a quarter – both equally unwilling to be the first to lose their self control.

And so it continued... day in and day out. Then without warning, something drastic changed.

They no longer argued – they no longer spoke at all. The animosity most had perceived between them before became all too real, and the atmosphere in the workplace became heavy and unwieldy with unresolved tension.

After only a week it had become completely unbearable - to the point where no one was getting any work done while waiting for things to explode – their co-workers stepped in and decided to resolve the problem. That is when things got interesting.

************

Blue eyes blinked open and looked around blearily. She couldn’t remember what had happened the night before, but judging from the pounding going on in the back of her head, Simone had either gotten shit-faced or someone had slipped her a mickey. Either way, she appeared to be in a hell of a lot of trouble.

She didn’t recognize where she was, except that it was outdoors. The sunlight in her eyes and the obnoxious cheerfulness of some stupid twittering bird were proof enough of that. The tickly properties of the grass she could feel against her face and see if she crossed her eyes, along with the oddly fresh air were only further evidence that something drastic had happened.

A low groan pulled her attention from taking inventory and Simone tried to turn her head to find out who had made the sound. Even a rough and tumble city girl like she was could tell the difference in a human sound and an animal one. Besides, when did most animals utter the epithet FUCK in English when they were able to communicate with each other in whatever language it was that animals used?

She slammed her eyes shut when she moved her head, breathing deeply to keep from throwing up at the pain screaming through her skull. Someone was going to die when she figured out what the hell was going on. Then she eased her eyes open again... and groaned herself, closing them once more. Things had just gone from bad to worse.

"I’d blame this on you," came the mumble from almost closed lips, "but you look as bad as I feel right now, Bleeding Heart."

Simone continued to concentrate on her breathing – not willing to get into a debate with this particular woman at the moment... especially if this was just the universe’s twisted way of getting revenge for some perceived shortcoming. With any luck, when she opened her eyes again, she would discover that this was all just a bad dream. Then that voice came again and Simone sighed. The situation was fast becoming all too real.

"Still not talking to me, Simone? God, you hold a grudge worse than most society bitches I know. At least with them it is easy to figure out their issue of the week – they snipe."

"Shut up, Miser. I have enough to deal with here without listening to you whine about it. Go bother somebody else, why dontcha? I have no intention of suffering any more because of you."

"Take a look around, hotshot. It’s just you and me and a pile of stuff I have never seen the likes of in any of the stores I shop in." Sara got no answer and rolled onto her side before easing into a sitting position. "You all right there, Bleeder? You never miss an opportunity to take a free shot." She reached over to touch Simone’s forehead, only to jerk her hand back when the dark head flinched at her touch. "Take it easy, Bleeder – or better yet, you know what? Just forget it; I don’t know why I even bother trying."

"You don’t – that is your whole goddamn problem. You expect the world to cater to you. Now shut up before I puke all over us both."

Sara was furious, but she was also worried. She had a really good idea what had happened and if what she feared was true, they were going to need each other to get out of this entirely uncomfortable set of circumstances. She’d worry about rolling heads when she got home. Sara closed her eyes – truth was, she felt a little like throwing up herself. Maybe things would seem better after a nap.

Simone lay still... completely unmoving except for the breathing she was controlling by sheer concentration. Death couldn’t feel as bad as she did at the moment, and she found herself wishing for it briefly. But before it could become a solid thought, she fell into a light doze.

Neither woman could have said how much time had passed – literally. Watches and cell phones had been removed from their persons. But it was obvious to both of them that quite some time had passed as the shadows were much longer than they had been in their little glade even if there was apparently a portion of daylight left.

Sara breathed deeply – relieved to feel much better than she had been. Simone as well was thrilled that whatever nausea had been plaguing her was gone and except for her exhaustion, almost felt normal.

They opened their eyes virtually simultaneously and the walls returned between them as quickly as they realized the truth of their situation. Simone sat up and looked around, glad her head no longer felt as if it was falling off, but pissed beyond belief at what was going on.

She reached for the pile of what she suspected was camping equipment, only to find a note from her work partner on top. She opened it and read it slowly, then actually tossed it towards Sara before standing and stomping off. Sara listened for a long moment before looking down at the piece of paper she clutched so tightly in her hands, wondering what had directed Simone’s anger somewhere other than her and found her worst fears confirmed.

Guys, (it said)

We’ve had enough of whatever the hell is wrong with the two of you and decided to take matters into our own hands and force the issue between you. You’ll find all you need to survive out here for quite a while and if you follow the map that has been included, you’ll find food staples left for you every couple days. If you keep up a steady pace, you should be able to make it out of here in about a week or so. But do us all a favor and fix your problems with one another before you return to civilization. We’d hate to have to do this again. – Martin

Sara just blinked at the brazenness of the entire thing. Surely they knew that kidnapping was against the law – and what about the drugging she was convinced had happened to them both? Somebody’s ass was going to be hers when they got back – several somebody’s in fact – and then they’d find out that this was no practical joke. What would her father say when he heard about all this?

Simone stomped back into their tiny space and resumed going through the pile, separating things out and placing them into smaller piles. Sara watched for a while before she spoke. "Can I help?"

Simone shrugged. "I dunno... can you?"

"You are such a bitch."

"You’d know," Simone countered and continued separating. She finally found what she was looking for at the bottom of the stack – a single, solitary, two-person tent. She growled. Sara saw what she was glaring at and sighed. Things were definitely worse than she thought.

Their co-workers had been kind enough to leave a set of instructions, confident that neither woman had ever been camping before. Simone opened them up to read them – only to find that they were written in a language that she had never seen before. She balled up the paper and flung it from her in great disgust.

"Just fucking great," she cursed and threw the tent aside.

"Careful with that, Bleeder. That’s the only protection we’ve got to sleep under out here. I have no desire to be soaking wet when it starts raining."

"Then you figure out how to put the damn thing up. I’ll go collect firewood or something else useful." She disappeared back into the underbrush.

Sara got up and found the instructions Simone had tossed away in her anger – then she understood why. They were written in Mandarin Chinese and while not many knew she was fluent in the language, there was one notable exception to that. Things were getting curiouser and curiouser.

************

Simone came back and dropped a small load of wood to one side. Then she shook out the sleeping bags and set them on either side of the stack of wood. The small supply of food they’d been given went between them. Then Simone turned to watch Sara wrestle with the instructions, poles and tarp, snickering just slightly when the blonde woman growled.

"Would you like to help me or would you like to chance sleeping in the great outdoors with no protection from those clouds?" pointing to the growing line of darkness creeping up behind Simone.

"Whaddya want me to do?" Simone asked grudgingly.

Sara thought about all the possible responses to that question before deciding to go with stark truth at the moment. "I can read this," shaking the crumpled paper in Simone’s direction, "but I can’t read and build at the same time. I need you to do the building."

"Of course you do – somebody else has always got to do your dirty work, don’t they?"

"Look, Simone," Sara ground out, stopping just short of stomping her feet. "I know you don’t like me – I think the entire office is completely clear on that fact. It doesn’t really matter." She continued before Simone could interrupt. "What does matter at this point in time is the fact that we have been set up – very cleverly, I might add. We have to work together to make this work at all."

"Look, Miser," refusing to call Sara by name. "I’ll work with you only as much as is necessary to get us out of here and home again. When we get back, I’ll turn in my resignation and that’ll be the end of things, all right?"

Sara shrugged. "Whatever. Can we just get this stupid thing put together before it starts raining?" At Simone’s brisk nod, Sara started reading, absently handing the dark-haired woman the correct pieces and parts. The tent started to take shape and Simone’s hands were busy trying to keep it together.

Sara took over the last bit, pounding the stakes in place as Simone brought the sleeping bags in and dropped them inside. A rumble of thunder made her hustle to grab the rest of the supplies before the rain began falling in earnest. Sara pushed in right behind her, nearly tumbling them both and the tent to the ground. Simone glared at her for a moment, then moved to the far corner of the small tent. She took one sleeping bag for herself and tossed the other in Sara’s direction.

"Guess we should be thankful they’re not making us share a sleeping bag as well," Sarah muttered, but it was loud enough that Simone heard. The dark head whipped around and blue eyes bore a hole into green.

"Excuse me?" her voice icy.

"I told you we’d been set up, Bleeder. I’m a little surprised he didn’t go that far actually; it would certainly have made his point."

"He who... Martin? His ass is so gonna be grass when we get home. I even know a couple guys who’ll take care of the body – no muss... no fuss."

Sara stared at Simone in disbelief. Then she blinked and shook her head. "No... not Martin. He may have signed the note, but only one person in the world with the influence to do this also knows I speak Mandarin fluently. And he is the one who would benefit most from our learning to work together." The confused look grew on Simone's face and she held out her arms impatiently waiting for an answer. Sara sighed. "My father, Bleeder; he owns the company, remember? My father is the CEO of Wainwright Industries."

"Guess he’s in for a real shock when I haul his ass up on charges before I walk."

"I guess he is. Right now I’m not so sure *I* won’t."

That made Simone snicker. She finished straightening her bed for the night, then rose and picked up a backpack. She rifled through it briefly, then threw it to Sara. "I think this is yours," was her only comment. Simone snatched up the second bag and put it by her temporary bed, then picked up the small cooler and set it between them. "Hope we don’t have to cook this stuff or we’re gonna be hungry tonight."

Sara didn’t answer. She was too busy looking at the sealed note addressed to her in her father’s hand – confirmation in and of itself of what she had told Simone about who was behind this little kidnapping. At the moment, however, while Sara’s thoughts were buzzing, Simone didn’t care. She was still exhausted from whatever machination they had used to get her to this place. She lay down on her sleeping bag and was soon snoring softly from the depths of sleep. Sara sat up enough to be sure Simone was truly sleeping before ripping open the envelope.

Sara, my dearest, (it read)

I am sorry to have resorted to such extreme measures, but something must be done to resolve whatever issue has become between you and Simone. Separately, you’re the best we’ve got and together you’re unstoppable, but lately the two of you are only causing disharmony and chaos throughout the company to the point that it is disrupting the work. People are starting to take sides and I am afraid what will happen if something is not done about the situation immediately.

Stay out there until things are resolved between you – one way or another. Do whatever it takes, but fix it, Sara.

There will be someone close by keeping an eye on you both – to ensure that you remain safe and that you can be taken care of in an emergency. Otherwise, they will not interfere in any way. I trust that by the time you are home, you will have forgiven your old man for such drastic interference. Always your loving father, Billy.

Sara looked at the map he had enclosed and knew in an instant exactly where they were. She had spent her summers in this place, investigating every nook and cranny she’d been allowed to explore. Sara had the distinct feel by the signature he’d used that William Wainwright the third had put them somewhere she hadn’t been yet.

A second, more thorough glance confirmed her worst fears and she closed her eyes briefly. Screw the charges... she’d kill him for this. Regardless of what happened between now and then, Sara was going to kill her father for putting them in this position when it was all over. She figured Simone would be willing to help once she knew what was going on. Sara dropped her bag down beside her and closed her eyes again. It wasn’t long before she joined Simone in slumber.

************

Daylight woke them with a groan again, though at least this time it wasn’t a drug induced hang-over. It was just bright.

"Goddamn it – I was hoping it was going to be a dream. This sucks."

"More than you know, Bleeder... more than you know."

Blue eyes only a moment before glazed in sleep sharpened and glared in Sara’s direction. "What do you know, Miser?" For answer, Sara handed over the paper Simone had discovered in her bag the night before. Simone didn’t quite snatch it away, but Sara could feel the restraint rolling off her in waves. Simone’s face grew red as she perused the note. "You have got to be fucking shitting me. Is the man a moron or just selectively stupid??"

Despite her own anger at her father for his actions, Sara felt her ire grow at Simone’s tone. "He is neither. Otherwise he would have settled the problem himself instead of having us do it ourselves. He’s a brilliant businessman...."

"... and a lousy father."

"How dare you?!"

"Easily, but whatever. My opinion of your old man is as irrelevant as yours here. What we need to do right now is find those watchers and have them take us home. Then this foolishness will be over with and we can go our separate ways."

"You hate me so much." The statement was flat but Simone could see something unexpected in the green eyes facing her – something that appeared to be akin to pain.

"About like you do me, yeah," she answered with a shrug, but her eyes didn’t meet Sara’s. "Look, I’m gonna go outside and see if I can find these clowns. No reason to stay here any longer than we have to, right?" Simone didn’t wait for an answer, but clambered out of the tent as quickly as possible.

"But I really don’t hate you," Sara said to the still, empty space.

************

Sara had a small fire built and had cleaned up in the nearby creek by the time Simone returned hot and disheveled. Simone threw herself down on the ground in disgust.

"He lied," she accused.

"No... you won’t be able to find them. I doubt they are anywhere close. I’d be willing to bet we are being monitored electronically and they are some distance away."

"So we have to play his game until we get back to civilization."

"Well, we have to follow the map, yes. I see no reason for any more conversation or interaction between us than is absolutely necessary."

"Agreed," Simone said, "so let’s get started."

"Can you cook?"

"Excuse me?"

"Can you...?"

"I heard what you said – why do you need to know?"

"I thought we could decide on a plan of action. We need to eat and we have to break down and set up camp if we are going to be moving every day. If we can both cook, then neither of us will get stuck doing one thing or the other."

"Yes, I can cook. You?"

"Actually, yes."

"All right... since you started the fire, I'll go ahead and break down the campsite if you want to fix breakfast. I think it might take both of us to do the setting up, but we can worry about that tonight. There are other chores we can split to even up the workload," Simone said in a fit of verbosity.

Sara blinked. That was the longest non-confrontational speech Simone had ever graced her with. Even as she watched, the blue eyes which were regarding her coolly grew even colder at her lack of response. She nodded curtly.

"That's fine. We only have to make it work long enough to get out of this." She went into the tent and dragged out the cooler; Simone snatched up the two backpacks and they each grabbed a sleeping bag to roll up and set aside with the rest. Then Simone started breaking down the tent while Sara turned her attention to preparing a substantial breakfast.

Simone discovered that taking the tent apart was a much simpler proposition than putting it together had been, but that making it ready for travel was even harder. Still, she got it packed up and turned to find Sara plating up what looked to be a respectable breakfast. She accepted a plate with a murmured thanks and dug in with relish.

Sara took a seat across from Simone and focused on her own plate. It wasn't the best she'd ever eaten, but it wasn't the worst by a long shot and she was ravenous.

It only took a few minutes for both of them to clean their plates. Simone stood from her place and walked around to where Sara sat looking at her empty plate forlornly. She extended her hand. "I need to clean up, so I'll wash the dishes if you want to put out the fire."

Sara nodded her head mutely, then watched Simone walk out of sight before she doused the small fire carefully and picked up around the small camp to make sure everything was tidy. Simone came back into camp, hair and face wet from the scrubbing she had given them.

She placed the wet dishes on top of the small cooler and removed a small towel from her backpack, wiping them off before handing one to Sara and putting the other away in her pack with a spoon. She wiped her face off with a dry corner then looked at the wet towel with a frown.

"Clip it to your backpack – it'll dry as we walk." Simone looked her question at Sara and Sara hefted the pack up, offering it to Simone who turned and extended her arms. She slid under the weight, then Sara took the towel from her and clipped in onto one of the many jangling bits Simone had noticed but had no real clue what to do with. She nodded her thanks and snatched up Sara's pack, returning the courtesy brusquely before retrieving the tent pack.

Sara hefted the cooler, thankful for the strap that had been included as she slung it over her shoulder and settled it beneath her backpack. Then she looked at Simone who was waiting with her arms crossed over her chest. Sara arched a brow in question; Simone threw her hands up in exasperation.

"You have the map?"

"Shit! It's in my backpack – can you...?" Simone sighed but motioned for Sara to turn around. With surprising tenderness to refrain from upsetting Sara's precarious balance, Simone eased the pack open and removed the map from inside. She handed it to Sara over her shoulder, then zipped up the compartment and stepped away from the other woman.

Sara accepted the paper, biting her lip for a long moment. Then she pointed. "We need to head east." Simone motioned her ahead with a wave of her arm. Sara rolled her eyes, but took the lead.

They didn't speak – there was no need to. It was fairly smooth walking for the first part of the day and when they stopped for some rest and a bit of lunch, Sara was pleased with their progress. By mutual consent, they dropped their gear and ate trail rations, then stretched out for a short nap.

Simone woke first, stretching slowly to work out the stiffness she could feel settling in muscles unused to this particular type of exercise. She twisted, readjusting her back with a long string of pops. She grimaced, then jerked her head when Sara spoke, causing yet another crack to shimmy its way up her neck.

"That sounds painful."

Simone shrugged. "Nothing I can't handle. You ready?"

Sara yawned and stretched, then nodded as she rose. "Yeah. I think if we keep going at this pace, we should be to our next campsite by late afternoon."

For answer, Simone hefted her pack again, waiting for Sara to do the same. Then they headed out again under a truce of silence.

************

Simone and Sara were beyond happy to see the small campsite William Wainwright had marked on the map. The journey hadn't been difficult, but it had been long. And since they were unused to the extra weight they were forced to carry, it made for slow going.

When they reached the cleared spot, they dropped their gear as quickly as they could manage and groaned as they fell to the ground. After a moment of complete stillness, Simone stirred and grabbed up the tent bag, shaking it out and watching dispassionately as pieces clanged together as they fell to the ground. Sara didn't even protest, but started sorting through the pieces. Then she opened the directions and started reading as she passed Simone the parts she needed.

In short order, the tent was ready for occupation and the campsite set-up complete.

"If you are cooking tonight," Sara said, "I'll go collect the firewood and water we need." Simone nodded her agreement and went to fetch the small cooler that had been left to mark the spot. She pulled off the cover, surprised to find salmon fillets wrapped in dry ice along with, of all things, ice cream. Taped to the top was another note and she debated whether or not to open it or leave it for Sara – since she felt fairly confident it was meant for her reluctant companion.

She left the note alone and moved the cooler closer to the tent. Then she started clearing a circle for a fire pit.

About that time, Sara reemerged from the woods with an armload of wood. "I know we need more, but I thought this would get us started. This ready?" waiting for the dark head to nod and dropping the wood into the cleared pit. Then she crossed to the cooler. "What's this?" lifting the lid before Simone could answer. Sara chortled when she saw the ice cream, then she saw the note. "You didn't read this?"

"We both know it's not for me," lighting the moss she'd packed between the wood she'd stacked and waiting for it to catch. Then she got up and removed the salmon from the cooler and moved away, leaving Sara to read her missive in private.

Sara ripped the envelope carefully and slid the single sheet of paper from inside.

Dearest Sara, (it read)

I thought to provide something of a treat for the completion of your first real day together. You will find dry supplies for the next couple days hanging in the tree above the cooler, since it is a rather long hike to the next selected campsite. Leave the coolers and whatever trash you cannot dispose of there and someone will be around to collect it after you are both well on your way.

I hope things are going well between the two of you. I have high hopes you can settle this like adults quickly – you are capable of so much together if you'd only try. Be honest with her, sweetheart. It will make such a difference. Trust me – I know. With much love for you always....

Your old man Billy

Sara folded the letter and put it neatly in the envelope, though she made a point to leave it on the cooler for Simone if she chose to read it. Then she left to collect more firewood.

Simone, however, had decided to get through her current trial with as little interaction as she could manage and kept her mind on fixing dinner. She emptied her canteen and picked up Sara's, shaking it to find it was nearly empty as well. She started for the small stream, just as Sara stepped from the brush.

"Hey, I thought that was supposed to be my job, Bleeder. Don’t want you thinking I'm not holding up my part of this arrangement," and she placed the wood beside the small fire.

Simone rolled her eyes and tossed both canteens in Sara's direction. "Whatever, Miser. I was thirsty. Figured I'd... you know what? Never mind. It doesn't matter. I need to find something to go with dinner."

"Check the tree."

"Huh?"

Sara cut her eyes at Simone before bending down to pick up the two canteens. "Didn't you read the note? Check the tree," motioning to the larger tree where the cooler had been. Then she stalked off towards the creek.

"No, I didn't read the note... not any of my damn business, is it?" Simone muttered under her breath. She walked back to the tree and looked around, spotting it rather easily, although reaching it.... She realized almost immediately that it would take the two of them working together to retrieve it. Simone plopped down on the ground with her arms across her chest and stretched her legs out, crossing them at the ankles and waiting for Sara to return from fetching the water.

After a few minutes, Sara reappeared looking cooler and freshly scrubbed. She noted Simone's position and raised an eyebrow. Simone simply pointed upwards. Sara followed the direction she indicated and let her shoulders drop and her chin fall to her chest.

"I'm going to kill him myself. I don't care if he did give us ice cream." She stomped over to stand beside Simone who stood languidly to her feet. Sara cupped her hands together to give Simone a boost. Simone just bit her lip to keep from laughing.

"You've gotta be kidding me." Sara shook her head.

"No – I don't like heights, and he knows you rock climb at the company gym; so come on and let me give you a boost."

Simone sighed and stepped back a couple paces. "Ready?" Sara nodded and Simone moved so swiftly, Sara barely had time to register her weight before Simone was in the tree. Sara watched with her heart in her throat as Simone lightly moved to the bag and unhooked it, lowering it into Sara's grasp before sitting on the lowest branch and jumping. Then Simone snagged the bag and took it over next to the cooler.

"That was unnecessary, you know. I could have managed." Sara waited but Simone didn't even acknowledge her words. Sara stalked over and grabbed Simone by the shoulder, jerking until blazing blue eyes were gazing back at her, the fury in them clear. Simone pulled out of Sara's grasp roughly.

"Don't do that again," the rage in her eyes easily conveyed through her tone.

"What the hell is wrong with you??"

"We've been forced to work together by necessity to get out of this place. That doesn't mean we have to share conversation or personal space. So, unless it's necessary, just be quiet and keep your hands to yourself and I'll do the same, all right?"

Sara clenched her jaw, but nodded her head briskly. "Fine... whatever. What's in the bag?"

Simone didn't throw it at her, which surprised Sara. Instead she passed it over and stood up, potatoes in her hands as she headed to the creek. Sara watched her out of sight then turned her attention back to the bag. A couple loaves of bread, peanut butter, trail bars, some raw vegetables and a bag of chocolates. Sara smiled... at least they wouldn't starve and with the addition of chocolate, they might not even kill one another before they reached the end of the journey.

Simone returned from the creek, pulling a small penknife from her pocket and poking holes in the potatoes before easing them into the heat. Then she grabbed up her backpack and sleeping bag and went into the tent. Sara listened, not surprised when Simone emerged a few minutes later bearing clean clothes and her towel. She didn't even glance Sara's way as she made her way back to the tiny brook. Sara just sighed and shook her head.

"No, Dad... I don't think being honest is going to help. I don't thing anything is going to help this situation except for it to be over."

Then she placed the bag next to the cooler and moved to set her own things up in the small tent.

************

Dinner had been an almost silent affair, save for the scrape of utensils on their plates and the courtesies of 'thank you' and 'you're welcome'. Now the campsite was completely quiet save for the crackle of flames and the whisper of the wind as it blew through the trees. Sara was sitting close to the fire, squinting at the map. She didn't know what nitwit had given the instructions on what to remove from them before they were dropped off, but she was less than amused by her missing glasses... especially in the less than perfect light she was forced to use. Simone, for her part, lay flat on her back looking up at the stars.

Sara glimpsed in her direction – wondering what she was thinking about and how they had come to have such discord and passivity between them. At least when they had been fighting it had been fiery and passionate. Surely that had been better than the uneasy truce of nothingness they had now. She sighed loudly and Simone's head turned in her direction. Sara rubbed her eyes and shook her head.

"Problem?" Simone asked carefully. Her voice was completely neutral, betraying neither concern nor antagonism in her tone.

Sara shrugged. "My eyes hurt. The idiot who took all our stuff also took my glasses for some reason. Guess we're lucky he left you your penknife."

Simone leaned up on her elbows. "I'll bet that reason has something to do with this," motioning around their little home away from home. "What better way...."

"... to force us to work together again. Damn!" Sara rubbed her eyes again and pinched the bridge of her nose. "You know the sucky part – I only use them to read with. It's this light...."

"Is it important?" gesturing to the paper Sara still held.

"It can wait to daylight, I suppose," but she trailed off when Simone lay back down and resumed her study of the stars as though the conversation was over. Sara decided to take a page from Simone's book and just enjoy the peace. Real life was usually so hectic that she couldn't remember the last time she'd *seen* the stars... much less *appreciated* them.

Silence reigned but for a change it was comfortable between them.

************

The next two days passed in similar fashion – the first day taking them out of the treed area and into rockier terrain. It was more treacherous and made for much slower going. Still it didn't require a good deal of communication, so despite William Wainwright's machinations, things remained mostly status quo between them.

They were happy to find the campsite by the time they reached it sometime late that second afternoon. By Sara's best estimate, they were close to halfway to the end and nothing had changed. Simone was still touchy and reactive and Sara was knee-jerk in her responses in return. Their truce was unstable at best, but it seemed to be holding for the moment, which was all either could hope for given the peculiarity of their current situation.

At least the lack of words meant fewer arguments and fights.

They stopped by the now familiar cooler and eased their gear to the ground with a sigh. Though not a forced march, neither of them were dawdling and that made their pace less than leisurely. They were both glad for the chance to stop and rest.

Simone dropped the tent, emptying it out of its carry bag and assembling the pieces with practiced ease now. Sara opened the cooler to find two steaks, another bit of ice cream and the expected note.

Sweet Sara, (it read)

I trust this finds you and your companion well and that you are making great strides towards resolving the issues between you. Considering your rapid-fire pace thus far, I am cautiously optimistic. If not, and you are simply trying to make it to the next marked campsite, please take the alternate blue route marked on your map – it will take you into the more familiar paths of this land, but will also provide you with whatever time you need to insure that things are settled.

I have high hopes for the two of you, daughter, and when you return successful in your quest, I'll arrange for a more enjoyable holiday for both of you to spend somewhere nice.

I hope you know I have only your best interests at heart and will one day find it in your heart to forgive me for this.

Your fresh supplies are in the cave located in Rifleman's Hill; it will require both of you to make the climb in order to retrieve the supplies that have been provided.

Still your loving father, Billy

"ARGH!" Sara screamed and threw the crumpled note on the ground. "So help me, when we get back...." She turned and looked at Simone who continued to put the tent together. Sara stomped over and started to yank on Simone's arm before thinking better of it. Instead she cleared her throat loudly and shoved the letter towards Simone as soon as she was sure she had her attention.

Simone finished the bit she had left then accepted the missive, reading through it with increasingly darkening features. She blew out a breath, easily noting Sara's fury over her father's actions and attitudes. Simone checked over the tent once more, securing the lines tightly and rising to her feet.

"C'mon," she invited, returning the letter to Sara. "Let's go get those supplies. I'm hungry."

Sara just hoped Billy had remembered to leave firewood; otherwise those steaks were going to go to waste, and that would just be a damn shame.

Rifleman's Hill was a rather steep climb, arduous after the speed they'd maintained for the past three days. Halfway up the slick rock trail, they came to the cave. Sara muttered under her breath and edged into the cave first; Simone couldn't stop the smirk that crossed her lips as she picked up on the gist of what Sara was fuming about.

Inside was a travois holding their fresh dry supplies, firewood and a second, small cooler. They exchanged looks and shrugs before Simone lifted one end and Sara took the other. They grunted at the unexpected weight and slowly made their way out the cave mouth with Simone in the lead. She deliberately shortened her stride – the path was narrow and slicker than either of them was comfortable with considering their burden.

They were making good progress – working together and cautiously easing down the hill. So naturally something had to go wrong to upset the balance they'd found.

Simone had been very careful in placing her steps, calling back to Sara when she found rocks or slick spots. Then without warning, Sara hit a rock Simone had missed and the force of her stumble caused Simone to hit a location that sent her skidding. Simone fell backwards and Sara fell forward and they slid several feet before Simone hit a stone large enough to impede their forward progress.

There was complete silence for a moment, then – "Goddamn," Simone muttered, wincing as she shifted beneath the pile of stuff that had slid forward onto her. "That hurts."

"No shit. Ow," Sara moaned as she struggled to sit upright. She grimaced when she saw the tumble of stuff now piled up between her and Simone. "Damn, Bleeder... are you all right?"

"I'd be better without all this shit lying on top of me, but I'll live. You?"

"I've done something to my ankle, but otherwise...." She groaned. "Getting down from here is going to be a bitch."

"Getting *outta* here is gonna be a bitch if you can't walk. I hope your old man wasn't lying, or this is gonna get uglier than it already was real damn quick." Simone gripped the items closest to her and pushed them away from her. With a little wiggle room, she was able to transfer more until she could actually sit up and see Sara's ashen face.

She ran a cursory check over herself, observing a number of scrapes and scratches and absently making note of the muscles that were going to be protesting soon. Simone eased her way back to where Sara still rested, eyes closed as she focused on her breathing.

Simone placed a hand on Sara's shoulder to alert her to her presence, then laid a wary hand on Sara's leg. The blonde woman didn't even flinch... until Simone tried to remove her shoe.

"Fuck, that hurts!" she panted, trying to keep from screaming aloud as the shoe finally came off. Simone ran a gentle hand around the swelling, bruised flesh, then met Sara's eyes. "I don't think it's broken," she said, "but it *is* a really bad sprain. Do you trust me?"

Green held blue for the longest moment as they took one another's measure and then Sara nodded slowly. Without warning, Simone scooped her into her arms enough to place her onto the pallet with infinite care. She looked at their supplies, then back at Sara.

"I think I can get you and all this down in one trip if you can handle being a little squished."

"That's fine," Sara agreed in a whisper. "Whatever it takes to get back to camp. I'd say just leave it here...."

"... but we need it – I know. Wait here," Simone instructed without so much as a twinkle in her eye. But since Sara's eyes had closed to allow her to focus on her breathing again, she didn't even notice.

Simone slowly straightened and began recovering the supplies she'd pushed from the edge of the pathway. The firewood was the most scattered as it hadn't been bundled... simply stacked. She picked it up a piece at a time, laying it evenly on either side of Sara's body. The cooler went at the bottom near Sara's good leg and the dry good went on the other side. They might end up with squashed bread, but at least it would provide a little protection while doing the lease amount of damage.

Simone slipped off her jacket, shivering a little at the sudden chill she was exposed to, and placed it over Sara's body. Green eyes slowly tracked open and Sara looked back at Simone blearily.

"Try to stay still," Simone instructed. Sara nodded and closed her eyes again. Simone went back to the front of the pallet and lifted the ends, moving forward slowly once again. Sara bit her lip to keep from crying out and inch by painful inch, they made their way back down the hill.

When they reached the bottom again, Simone unloaded the travois first, concerned that Sara did not move or open her eyes. The fire was laid and the excess wood placed to the side, and the cooler and dry supplies placed to the side next to their tent. Only when that was done did Simone reach out to Sara, to find green eyes staring back at her pitifully.

"This sucks," she mumbled.

"Yeah and it gets worse. The sun is going down and you need to soak that foot... see if you can get some of the swelling down."

"You look like you could use some soap and water and a few band-aids yourself, Simone." Simone shrugged.

"Maybe later. I've gotta get the fire built before the sun sets and get dinner started. Can you make it to the stream or do you need my help?"

For answer, Sara sat up slowly, handing Simone back the light jacket that had covered her. Simone took her hands and helped her balance as she stood... then caught her as she slipped to the ground with a yell.

"C'mon," Simone encouraged, taking the injured side and supporting it. "Put your arm around my neck." Sara opened her mouth to protest and Simone glared her into silence. "Look, Miser... it's not my first choice either, all right? Work with me here a little."

Sara thought about complaining for the split second it took her to see her own pain and exhaustion reflected back at her from those telling blue eyes. With a nod of her head, she acquiesced and together they made very slow progress towards the tiny trickle of water that appeared to be guiding their travels.

Simone seated her as comfortably as could be managed, then rolled up her jeans as far as she could before slipping the ankle into cold, clear water. Sara gasped at the sensation, holding her breath for a long moment. Then she released it with a discomfited sigh.

"Thank you, Simone."

Simone jerked her head awkwardly but otherwise said nothing as she turned and walked the short distance back to camp. She still had a lot of work to do... especially since Sara was no longer in a position to help much. Not that she blamed Sara for this particular problem – she'd been as unhappily surprised by the turn of events as Simone had. But it didn't change their circumstances either.

She looked at the firewood, wondering how long she could make it last, then shrugging. It wouldn't really matter if she couldn't get it to light – she'd never tried without some sort of packing or kindling wood before. She thought briefly, then created a small pile of shavings with her penknife. Using that as her kindling, she was able to make it catch and from there, laying the wood was easy.

Simone found more potatoes and took them to the creek to wash, surprised to see Sara laying completely on her back with her eyes closed while the water continued to flow over her ankle. Simone just shook her head and got on with her work, never noticing that Sara was observing her through the slits in her lashes.

Once the potatoes were put into the heat, Simone scrounged through the dry supplies to find more of the same. Then she opened the smaller cooler and found a six-pack of soda and another note. Her lip curled, not believing the man's audacity, but she set it aside. It wasn't her business at the moment, and when it was, she was going to have the power of the Family to back her up. She wouldn't let the boys kill William Wainwright the third, but they would for damn sure put the fear of the Family into his ass... one way or another.

"I shoulda just stuck to what I know best," she muttered, then went into the tent to dig through their packs for some sort of first aid kit – which was naturally at the bottom of Sara's pack. Simone left the stuff of both bags neatly stacked on their sleeping bags to make a point, then hefted the kit and her towel and headed back down to the small creek with her flashlight in hand.

She made enough noise to alert Sara to her presence, then knelt close enough to her that she could be seen, but far enough away that she couldn't be touched. Simone poured a generous helping of soap into her hands, hissing at the stinging it caused to the cut skin. Sara sat up, but didn't speak, waiting to see if Simone would ask for help. Simone ignored her, scrubbing her hands until the cuts began to bleed again, hoping to force the dirt and impurities out that way if she couldn't any other.

After a while, she plunged her hands into the icy water, glad for the cold that immediately numbed the feeling. Only when Sara reached over her arms awkwardly and pulled her out by the wrists did she breath, and then she glared at Sara for interfering.

"Don't bother, Bleeder. I know it hurts like a son of a bitch. I also know you need disinfectant poured on them as well as on your face and sides where you got scraped and bullied by that damn hill. Let me help you now. You've done enough on your own."

Simone regarded green eyes for a long moment, but finally relented. Sara felt the thrill of victory, but kept it out of her expression. Instead, she took the towel and patted the hands dry, then moved her attention to the first aid kit between them.

"You get this out of my bag?"

"Yep."

Sara waited for more of an explanation, but none was forthcoming. "All right then," she acknowledged, "let's see what we've got." She looked down at the flashlight and sighed. "I need for you to.... Can you hold it still between your knees?" Simone nodded and together they got the flashlight situated so Sara could see to work.

She worked as swiftly as she was able; Simone sat statue still as the light touch skimmed over her face, ribs and finally her hands. Simone didn't utter a sound until Sara poured disinfectant over her raw hands and then she hissed like a cat. Sara jumped but didn't stop her work until the hands were bandaged and the kit closed.

"All done."

Simone took a deep breath and nodded shortly. "Thanks." Then she gathered the kit and stood, extending her arms for Sara. Sara grasped her wrists, and together they made slow progress back to camp. Sara stopped and blinked at the tidy set-up.

"You did all this with those hands?"

Simone shrugged then opened the tent flap, catching Sara's swift look at her when she saw the packs emptied neatly onto their respective sleeping bags. "I thought it only fair... since I dug through yours."

"Not necessary, but I appreciate the gesture. C'mon...." nodding her head back towards the fire. "This stuff can wait. I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

Dinner was a little more difficult to manage, but they worked together and made it work. The soda and ice cream probably would have been more appreciated had they not been near exhaustion and in serious pain. But neither would take the single shot of morphine that had been part of the first aid kit and aspirin just wasn't cutting it. After a brief struggle to bank the fire, they made their way into the tent, collapsing onto their sleeping bags as soon as they'd pushed the stuff to the sides. They'd worry about that tomorrow. Tonight they were going to try and sleep.

************

"You sure about this?" Simone asked skeptically.

"My father has to have all the new toys – yes, I'm sure. They'll see we aren't moving and he'll send someone out after us to find out what the trouble is. GPS tracking at its finest."

They'd repacked their backpacks and cleaned up, tasks that, even working together, had taken them most of the morning; now they sat waiting for the ride Sara had assured Simone would be forthcoming. The silence was as comfortable as it had ever been for them – still, neither felt the need to bridge the differences that remained. They were back to where things had been before they had exploded and for them, it would have to be enough. Unlike William Wainwright, they knew some things couldn't be changed... no matter how hard one wished.

They were drowsing in the warmth of the sun when the whirring of a motor woke them from their slumber. Sara sat up slowly, battling her way to an upright position just as the Hummer reached their position. Simone eased up onto her elbows and squinted.

A woman jumped from the vehicle and took one look at Sara's black and blue ankle and Simone's bandaged hands and whipped out her cell phone.

"Sir, I think we have a problem."

************

The chopper landed nearby, and William Wainwright stepped from the back as though this was an everyday experience. He walked in silence to where his daughter and her companion waited. His step faltered when he discovered the sheer fury written clearly across both visages and the confidence he felt in his idea slipped from his face.

"Sara...."

"Don't, Dad. There is not a damn thing you can say to make this better. Just get us home and hope we don't *both* sue you for reckless endangerment and kidnapping."

William Wainwright may have been a man of simple things, but he wasn't a stupid man by any means. He'd known, when he'd undertaken this particular course of action, that he was running a real risk of screwing up his relationship with his daughter if it didn't work out the way that he hoped it would. He'd trusted that by giving Sara and Simone time and space to work things out, they would do so. He'd never expected it to end like this.

Without another word, he motioned to the woman who had first summoned him to this area and she immediately started packing up the campsite. He turned to Simone. "Do you require assistance?" She shook her head at him but did not grant him a verbal answer. He nodded and scooped Sara into his arms before she could protest. Then he headed back to the helicopter with Simone walking right beside him.

The trip back to the ranch was silent – cloying and uncomfortable. Sara had deliberately turned her head away from her father, her anger a palpable thing. Simone kept her attention on the world outside, glad this ordeal was almost over. Billy took the hint and moved as far from the two of them as he could – the navigator's seat in the front.

When they landed at the ranch house some minutes later, several people emerged – one with a wheelchair for Sara; another to help guide it where the grass was thickest; still a third to welcome Simone in and lead her to a room to be seen by the doctor that was kept on staff for the ranch. She followed, knowing her wounds needed treatment first.

Billy watched them go silently, wondering. Something had changed between them, but he didn't for a minute think things were over.

************

Simone let the doctor tend to her wounds, sitting stoic and silent until his chatter died away awkwardly. He gave her some last minute instructions, then she followed her guide to a large room and was motioned inside.

"There are fresh towels in the bathroom and clean clothes in the closet. Unless you need my help, I will leave you alone to shower in privacy. When you're ready, click the speaker and I'll come back to take you down to Mr. Wainwright's office."

"And if I prefer to talk to Wainwright now?"

The housekeeper didn't blink. "Then I'll take you to him now, but I thought you might prefer to be comfortable first. I believe Mr. Wainwright is with his daughter at the moment."

Simone snorted. "I doubt it." She stood there a moment, considering her options and found serious benefit in not only making the man wait for her to appear, but also in being clean and comfortable when she confronted him the first time. Decision made, Simone shrugged casually. "Whatever... I'll be out in a few minutes. Wait for me."

The housekeeper didn't care for the curt tone, but Mr. Wainwright had instructed her to see to their guests needs, so that's what she would do. Sooner than she expected, the water started running and it ran for far less time than she had anticipated. In only a few minutes, Simone stood before her clad only in a bath sheet.

Simone walked straight to the closet, surprised to find it full of clothing that would fit her. She wondered what the hell William Wainwright was *really* playing at, then mentally shrugged. It didn't matter. After today, she would no longer have to deal with the man unless he continued to be stupid. And even then, Uncle Sal would be more than happy to send the boys to take care of things.

She dressed as swiftly as she could manage – her hands were still stiff and sore. Still, she did it without help – black slacks, white shirt, black jacket and boots... the same clothes she normally wore to work. Only this time, they carried an edgy menace and she played on it. She left her hair loose... unusual for her, but it made a statement she wanted Wainwright to understand. Simone was no longer part of his team – she was Family now.

The housekeeper took an instinctive step back when Simone emerged from the closet and Simone couldn't stop the dark smile that crossed her face at the reflexive reaction. "Let's go," she commanded, and Bunny nodded and was out the door before she realized it.

They were quiet on their way down to Wainwright's office, and the housekeeper ushered her in. "I'll fetch Mr. Wainwright. Please have a seat," motioning to the chairs in front of the desk, but not waiting for Simone to obey before she closed the door. Simone chuckled mirthlessly. Then she deliberately walked around the desk and took the seat behind it, propping her feet on the old mahogany wood top and crossing them at the ankles.

It wasn't but a few minutes before William Wainwright opened the door, apologizing, only to stop midway through a word when he saw Simone's position. He hesitated.

"Sit down," she directed harshly.

"You're in my seat," he stated plaintively.

Simone rose and leaned on the desk, ignoring the pain in her hands and ribs and glaring at him until he thought his hair would fall out. "Sit. Down."

He took the seat closest to him, glad for the support as his knees gave way. He wondered where the mild-mannered employee had gone in the face of the furious stranger that now regarded him with disdain. Surely he hadn't miscalculated *that* badly, right? There was a very fine line between love and hate and they had just needed the impetus to release their passion in a more positive way – he had simply set the stage to allow them to figure that out. No harm done, right?

Simone stared at him for a few minutes, letting him stew in whatever thoughts where meandering through his head. She figured the rage she was allowing to clearly show on her countenance was enough to let him know that he had fucked up royally. What she had to say would certainly put the nail in that particular coffin. Finally....

"Mr. Wainwright, I have something to say to you, and then you are going to provide transportation to take me back to the City. Do you understand?" He nodded, his words cut off by the ice cold tone in her voice and gaze. "Good. What you did was stupid, childish and irresponsible. You had NO RIGHT!!" her voice rising before she took a deep breath to will herself back to calmness. "There is no love lost between your daughter and I, and nothing you can say or do will ever change that. Sometimes people are just made to hate other people – your daughter and I fall into that category. We will never get along... much less like one another. That's how it is."

Simone walked around to the front of the desk and leaned casually against it, studying the man in front of her. The years had been kind to him – he was still ruggedly handsome... blond hair and green eyes very much like his daughter's and obviously a man who did more than sit behind a desk eight to twelve hours a day. There was something in his glance... a sadness that made Simone wonder, but only for a moment. She crossed her arms over her chest, wincing at the pull. Then she caught his eyes again and held them, ensuring her could see her seriousness.

"Mr. Wainwright, have you ever heard of Salvatore Amici?" Wainwright's face paled noticeably and Simone smiled grimly. "I can see that you have. Sal Amici is my uncle – I am the only female child of my generation and the only child of Sal's only sister – she was the baby of her family, you know. Do you see where I'm going with this?" He nodded vigorously, but she continued.

"Uncle Sal is more than a little protective of me, as are my cousins. Would you like to imagine what would happen to you if something like this were to get out?"

"I'd rather not," he admitted candidly.

"Smart man... it's not pretty. Do yourself a favor, Wainwright – leave me alone. And if you're really smart, you'll leave Sara alone as well. She's as likely to throw you off a bridge in cement shoes at the moment as Sal would be if he got wind of this. Capice?"

"Why do you care? You just admitted you hate her."

"This has nothing to do with her; I am looking out for you. I figure you owe me pretty big now, and if she kills you, I lose out on collecting my debt."

He nodded his acceptance of her explanation, then pinched his lip between his finger in thought. "May I ask...?" he asked with uncertainty. At her gesture, he continued though his voice still wavered. "Why did you come to work for me? Was it some sort of set-up or...?"

Her bark of laughter held no mirth and she shook her head. "I came to work for you because you hired me on my own merit. I am good at what I do and I wanted to earn my own place. I never wanted to be involved in the Family business, despite Sal's desire to groom me for a position of leadership. However, now thanks to you, that will change. Sal will be thrilled," she added drolly.

"Does that mean...?"

"It means as of this moment, I am no longer your employee and therefore, no longer your concern. Now you can either arrange transportation back to the City for me immediately, or I will call Sal and have him take care of things. As the heir apparent, I'm entitled to a few perks."

Wainwright rose. "If I could get to the phone...." motioning to his desk. She waved him by and moved to stand behind him looking unseeingly out the window. He set the phone in its cradle and she turned to him, eyebrow arched in question. "It will take a few minutes, but you should be leaving in half an hour at the most. Is there anything...?"

"Yeah... tell me why you did it. The truth, Wainwright... no shit."

"Personal or professional?" unwilling to risk offending her any further than he already had. Even if she *was* bullshitting about being Salvatore Amici's heir apparent, he didn't think she was making up the Family connection. It made too many things that hadn't made sense before suddenly fall into place.

"Both," she replied succinctly.

"Professionally, you would have made an unstoppable team. You have the creative flair and she has the business acumen to be successful on any project you were on. And you would have balanced one another perfectly – more adventure in her life... less impetuousness in yours." He stopped speaking and Simone arched a brow at him.

"And personally?"

He winced. He hoped what he had already said had been enough. Apparently not. "Personally, I think you would have made great friends."

She eyed him skeptically. "Friends... is that all?"

He met her eyes stubbornly. "That is all *I* could push for. Anything else had to be your own doing."

"But...?"

Wainwright sighed. "But there is a very thin line between love and hate. Any hatred that passionate had to have a flip side. I hoped, given the right set of circumstances...."

"Why?"

He blinked. "What? Whaddya mean why?"

"It's not a difficult question, Billy. Why did you hope the hatred between your daughter and me would turn to something else?? No one wants their kid to be gay, even in this age of 'enlightenment'."

"I told you...."

"NO! Not that bullshit again!" She huffed out a breath. "You know what... it doesn't matter. You just do yourself a favor – stay out of my way and stay out of my business. And as long as you keep your nose clean, I'll stay out of yours. You got it??" He nodded but kept his mouth shut. "Good," she said scathingly, her temper at the boiling point.

The phone ringing interrupted their stand-off and Wainwright heaved a sigh of relief. He'd never dealt with this Simone before and now he sent up a silent prayer that he'd never have to again. "The car is here," he informed her. "It will take you out to the runway where my private plane is waiting to return you to the City. My car will meet you there and deliver you home.

She nodded and headed out the door without another word.

************

Sara returned to work on crutches the following Monday to find Simone's office cleaned out – completely devoid of anything to show she had ever been there. She still hadn't spoken to her father.

Sara had soaked in the tub for an hour as soon as she'd gotten inside. When she was done, the doctor had wrapped her ankle and cautioned her to stay off of it as much as possible. She'd called down to have the jet prepped for flight back to the City, only to discover it had already been dispatched. She gave instructions for it to be recalled as soon as possible and then called down for dinner. As long as she was going to be stuck here, she might as well be comfortable.

Bunny delivered her meal, taking a bit of time to fuss over Sara like a real mother would. She tried to break the ice, encouraging Sara to talk, but all she got for her efforts were one word answers or grunts. Giving it up as a lost cause for the moment, the housekeeper kissed Sara's forehead as though she was checking for a fever. Then she left quietly, wondering what on earth William Wainwright had done to cause such upheaval in the household. All the staff had been told was that Sara and a friend had gone camping but had run into a bit of trouble. Bunny wondered what exactly the real truth was – and wondered if she'd ever find out.

It had taken until the following morning before Sara could fly back to the City and she'd done so without a word to her father. She'd figured he was exercising the better part of valor at the moment, but all she'd felt was relief that she had no need to see him. She'd taken the remainder of the week to recover her wits and heal up the worst of the scrapes and bruises she had acquired.

When she walked in on Monday morning, every eye in the place had tracked to her and just as quickly skittered away. Sara didn't even acknowledge them, her fury still too close to the surface. Instead she went straight to her office, her unfortunate assistant trailing along behind her.

She sat down and went immediately to work. Even without Simone's irritating presence, Sara still had a number of accounts to manage. And while it wasn't the same without an argument to interrupt her on a regular basis, Sara found she could actually get more work done that way.

The thought lasted until lunch.

************

William Wainwright called Sara into his office just as she was ready to step out of her office and go to lunch. The look she gave him should have turned him to ash in the spot, but since they were at work, no scathing retort followed. Instead, she hobbled down to his office and he closed the door behind her as he motioned her to a seat. She refused and remained standing.

"Sit down, Sara."

"No thank you; I prefer to stand."

He blew out a deep breath. Her ire was still burning very hot. "Suit yourself," he agreed as he resumed his seat. "I thought I told you to work things out with Simone – you were not to return until you had done so." He waited but she made no comment. "So as I see it, you're not even supposed to be here."

"As I see it... neither are you."

"Oh? How do you figure?"

"Kidnapping will get you put in jail for a very long time." He blanched at the seriousness of her tone, but otherwise gave no reaction to her words.

"Be that as it may," he finally relented when it was clear she was not going to continue. "Until such time as the two of you can work things out together between you, you are not to return to work in any capacity."

"You're firing me?!?"

"Think of it as a leave of absence. I'm not cutting you off, Sara...." She held up her hand and he stopped trying to explain his actions.

"You can't," she sneered, "but you know what... I don’t rightly give a fuck right now. Don't call me."

"Sara, I'm doing this for your own good!!"

"NO!" she fumed. "You're doing this because you hate to lose! No wonder Mom left!" She opened the door, slamming it against the wall hard enough to make the books shake. Sara didn't care; she limped through the doorway and back into her office.

Her assistant looked up in surprise. "Ms Wainwright?"

Sara took a deep breath. Julie was one of the few people she believed had nothing to do with her fiasco the week before. "Julie, can you find me a box and call the driver to let him know I need a ride home, please?" She cursed herself for not being able to drive today of all days.

"Yes ma'am. Anything else?"

"Come into my office when you're done." Julie nodded and moved from behind her desk to open the door for Sara before leaving for the copy room to collect a box. She had a bad feeling about this.

As expected, Sara had all of her personal belongings in a single spot by the time Julie returned from the copy room. "You're leaving?"

"Not officially," Sara answered wryly. "But I don't expect to be back, either. My father has made my situation here intolerable. I seriously doubt he's going to change his position any time soon and I can't work like this anymore. I'll make sure he finds a place for you. I know Grace was looking for some help...." trailing off when Julie shook her head.

"Not if it means I have to work directly for him. Not all of us were in on the little scheme to get you and Ms Marcone together. Most of us figured you'd work it out or not in you own time, you know... like regular folks do."

"That would have been nice." They finished putting away her personal effects and then Julie hefted the box.

"Come on, Ms Wainwright... I'll walk you down. The car is waiting."

Sara ignored the curious looks that followed her to the elevator. She waited until the doors closed behind them before she looked at Julie. "You decide what you want to do, and I'll make it happen. No reason you should lose your job because of Billy's idiocy."

"You're really pissed with him, huh?"

"Let's just say I don't see spending any time with him in the foreseeable future."

"Do you know what you're going to do next?"

Sara shook her head. "No... it's not like I was planning to have to make a life-changing decision today." The doors dinged and opened and Julie held the door to allow Sara to step through first, then she followed behind. The driver opened the car door and Julie slid the box across the floorboard before Sara slipped in. "You have my numbers... call me when you figure out what you want to do."

"Thanks, Ms Wainwright." Then Julie closed the door and the driver pulled into traffic.

************

William Wainwright didn't believe for one minute he'd heard the last from his daughter. Sara was many things, but demure had never been among them. He knew she'd be back if only to finish reaming him out for interfering in her life. Yet days became a week and then two, and there wasn't a peep from her – and worse, she refused to see him or return his calls.

He was trying to figure out how to fix the clusterfuck he'd created with his daughter when he received an unexpected visitor in the form of Simone Marcone; he almost didn't recognize her. The pants and jacket were both leather and custom cut to fit her long, lean frame. The shirt was silk, a deep blue that brought out the ice in her eyes.

"Ms Marcone," he greeted, extending a hand and watching as she took a seat across from him without accepting his handshake. The two men that accompanied her took up sentinel posts on either side of the door.

"Mr. Wainwright – did I not make myself perfectly clear? I thought I told you to leave your daughter alone. And yet it has been brought to my attention that she has been dismissed from your employ. Is that true?"

He thought about demanding explanations from her, but the look in her eyes made him more prudent than his first inclination would have made him. "I didn't dismiss her, Ms Marcone. She's on a leave of absence."

"Mr. Wainwright, don't try to dissimulate. I know the conditions you made for her to return to work, and I'm here to tell you that's not going to happen. So if you want to keep your daughter in your life, I'd suggest you learn to suck it up and start eating humble pie."

"Why do you care?"

"I want a solvent business, Mr. Wainwright. Your treatment of your daughter has made the rounds in business circles and confidence in you as a leader in the community is at an all time low. Find a way to fix this situation, Mr. Wainwright."

"Do you like being a bully, Ms Marcone?"

"I'm not a bully, Mr. Wainwright. I am a businesswoman... not of my own choosing either, I'd like to add. So if this is uncomfortable for you, I suggest you look in the mirror. The only one to blame for this entire situation is you."

He stood from his place. "I think it's time for you to go, Ms Marcone."

"I'd agree, Mr. Wainwright," she said as she stood. "But I also think it's time for you to grow the fuck up and stay the hell out of other people's lives. Worry about your business and let everyone else take care of themselves. You'll sleep better at night." She turned and walked to the door.

"May I ask you a question?" Simone turned and arched a brow above eyes filled with impatience. He sighed and pressed on. "What happened between you and Sara? Don't," he said when she shook up her head. "I know something did – you went from antagonistic competitors to downright enemies."

"It really doesn't matter, and frankly it's none of your business."

"Do you understand that I did this for Sara's happiness?"

"I understand you'd like to think so. Mr. Wainwright, don't make me come back here again." The door closed on Simone and her entourage and Wainwright sank back into his chair. How was he going to fix this?

************

Sara was thrilled to walk down the sidewalk without crutches for the first time in ten days. The cane was something of an imposition, but it was an inconvenience she was happy enough to deal with. Especially since it meant she could get out of the city for a while.

Sara had taken the unexpected time off to consider all her options and decided she wanted a fresh start – away from William Wainwright, away from Wainwright Industries and away from Simone Marcone. She was going to even try a new line of work – thanks to her grandmother, she could afford to. First, though, she was going to visit her mother.

"What did he do?" Adrianne Wainwright asked when she opened the door.

Sara chuckled ruefully and accepted her mother's hug once she was inside. "How can you tell?"

"You have the same look I've seen in the mirror every time I've had to deal with your father since long before you were born." She watched Sara hobble across the room to the couch. "What in the world happened to you?"

"Long story."

"I've got the time if you do. Can I get you something to drink?" Sara shook her head.

"Can I ask you a question?" Adrianne nodded and took a seat. "How in the hell did you put up with him as long as you did?"

Adrianne smiled and combed Sara's hair back from her forehead. "I had you," as though that explained everything. "Did he do this to you?" motioning to the cane.

"Not directly, though he is responsible for it."

"Oh I can't wait to hear this."

So Sara told her mother everything, from the moment she'd woken up beside Simone until the moment he'd dismissed her from Wainwright Industries.

"Why?"

Sara shook her head. "Why what? Why did he kidnap us? Why did he fire me? Why is he suffering from a God complex? C'mon, Mom... you're going to have to be more specific."

"Well, Billy's always suffered from a God complex, sweetheart," she proclaimed drolly. "And I'm sure he thought firing you would bring you back into line quicker." Adrianne shook her reddish head. "You'd have thought he'd have learned that lesson with me – it ended in divorce. He kidnapped you and... what was her name? Anyway," before Sara could respond. "He tried to force the two of you to reach the resolution he wanted to end your conflict. You should have filed charges against him, you know. No... my question is why did he think you would be able to resolve the issues between you to his satisfaction by forcing you together in such a manner?"

"He's delusional? I don't know. We never got along, right from the first. And things only grew more strained between us as time went on. If he'd shown any sense at all, he simply would have left us alone and kept our work separate from each other."

Adrianne made note of the odd fire in her daughter's eyes and determined to contact her ex-husband at her earliest opportunity to get the missing pieces of the puzzle. Something more was going on here and Adrianne wanted to know what it was.

"So," she said brightly, turning her attention back to Sara, "have you decided what you want to do for now... aside from knocking your father silly?"

"Actually, yes. I think I am going to go away for a bit – maybe see if I have that creative spark left in my soul anymore."

"Your grandmother would be happy to hear that."

Sara smiled. "I figure she's busy trying to figure out how to strike him down with lightning for being a jackass." Adrianne laughed.

"I never could understand how a woman like Charity Wainwright could have raised a child like Billy."

"Dumb luck," Sara snorted.

"I know you're angry sweetheart, but he is your father. Despite everything – because of everything – he loves you very much."

"Maybe... but for now he's going to have to learn to love from a distance. Otherwise, I might do something more rash than telling him off." She rose to her feet slowly and Adrianne stood with her.

"Do you know where you're going?"

"Rome... for now anyway. Maybe Paris or Barcelona after that. Nothing is set in stone yet."

"Well, keep in touch – a phone call... the occasional email – you know how to reach me." Adrianne opened her arms and took Sara in a firm embrace for several long minutes. Finally, they both pulled back, assuring one another with their eyes and exchanging a brief kiss. "Take care of yourself, little girl. I hope you find what you're searching for."

"Mom, I'd settle for a little peace."

Adrianne closed the door behind her daughter when she left and leaned against it. "What the hell have you done, Billy Wainwright?"

************

Salvatore Amici sat behind his desk contemplating the man and woman who sat in front of him. He'd invited them in an attempt to understand what had happened to bring Simone back to the Family. Not that he was complaining – on the contrary, he couldn't have asked for a better circumstance as far as the Family was concerned. He'd coveted her skill and acumen from the first, but he had promised his sister to look out for her only child... not to force her into the Family business. He'd been disappointed when Simone had chosen another path, but Sal had kept his word.

Now he looked at her former employer, wondering what could have happened to cause Simone to leave a career she'd loved – despite the antagonism she shared with this couple's only child. Privately, Sal felt Simone had relished the arguments between them – whether she admitted it or not, she enjoyed the fire and passion she and Sara brought out in each other. But that was a matter of discussion for another day. Today was about finding out what had changed.

"I'm not going to waste time with platitudes," Sal said without preamble. "I want to know what caused Simone to leave your employ," directing his words to William Wainwright. "I want to know what happened between your daughter and my niece to drive her away from a job that she loved."

Wainwright flinched under the weight of Sal's stare, his guilt only compounded by the look his ex-wife bestowed on him. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"I'm afraid her leaving her job so abruptly is strictly my fault, but the reason behind it is their responsibility – Simone's and Sara's." Sal leaned forward in his seat, placing his folded hands on his desk and cocking his head in a listening attitude. When Billy Wainwright didn't immediately continue speaking, Sal growled and glared at him.

"Would you care to elaborate?" he invited, though it was noticeably *not* optional.

Wainwright cleared his throat again. "I was trying to decide the best way to tell it."

"Oh, for God's sakes, Billy. Just tell us the truth," Adrianne said with more than a hint of exasperation. "Personally I think we deserve to know why you did what you did to our kids!"

Sal looked at the woman in front of him, a slight twinkle in his eye. Obviously, Adrianne Wainwright knew something, and she was mightily pissed about it. He turned to her.

"You know something?"

"Only what my daughter shared with me – why Simone left the company like she did." She looked back at Billy and glared. "You knew better... so what I want to know is why you felt the need to interfere in the first place. They were doing their work – what gave you the right...?"

Sal held up his hand. "Would one of you fill me in on why Simone left, please? All she said was creative differences and while I know that those existed, I also know that isn't the reason she left."

Adrianne and Sal both looked at Billy, but he kept his eyes firmly on the ground. Adrianne turned back to Sal. "Let me share with you what Sara told me before she left."

"Wait... you know where Sara is?" Wainwright asked his ex.

"Yes," Adrianne said succinctly. "And no... I'm not going to tell you." She looked back at Sal and filled him in on what she knew, not leaving out any of the details Sara had shared. "Apparently Billy felt their animosity towards each other was hurting morale and productivity."

"I see. And what did you think to accomplish with your actions, Mr. Wainwright? Did you not consider all the ramifications of what you were doing?"

"I thought I had. I believed if they had to and could learn to work together without antagonism or rancor, things would work out like they were supposed to for everyone. Productivity would skyrocket, morale would improve and Sara and Simone would find happiness."

"Why would you think that, Billy? They never pretended anything more than a cordial dislike for one another. What the hell gave you the right to decide that??"

"Because hate is not the only passionate emotion in the world and I know there was more between them – I saw it!"

The silence that fell after his pronouncement was all-encompassing. Not even the sound of breathing could be heard.

"Explain." The statement was cold and flat and Wainwright couldn't miss the edge in Sal Amici's voice.

Billy cleared his throat. "It was late – the office was empty except for Simone and Sara although I didn't know that when I went in. I thought the cleaning crew was working; it didn't occur to me that it would be otherwise." He drew a deep breath. "I'd stopped by to pick up some paperwork I needed for an early morning offsite meeting. I didn't announce myself – there was no reason to. I gathered what I needed from my office and headed right back out." Billy stopped again to swallow.

"I had just opened my office door to leave when I heard Sara literally crash out of her office before tracking her progress right to Simone's door. She didn't bother to knock – she simply slammed the door open and started yelling. From what I could gather, she was informing Simone in no uncertain terms that she was an idiot if she thought she was going to approve the funding for whatever proposal Simone had made. Of course Simone wasn't going to take anything from Sara sitting down and got right back into her face."

"And???" Adrianne asked after the silence dragged on interminably.

"And?" Billy repeated. He shrugged. "They stopped for a long moment, simply staring at one another. It seemed to me like they hesitated for the briefest moment... wanting to reach out to one another. But instead they turned away from each other – Sara back to her office and Simone to her desk. After that, their relationship went downhill. Cordial dislike became outright animosity and they took great pains to never be alone together again."

Billy stopped speaking and silence fell while Sal considered his words. Adrianne just covered her eyes with her hand and shook her head in disbelief. Finally....

"Why did you assume they wanted to reach out to one another? Why assume that there was anything more than anger between them? According to you, that is all you had seen from them... before or since. Why do you believe this was different?"

Wainwright sighed audibly, rising from his seat and pacing behind them while scratching the back of his neck. "You would've had to have seen it – there was just a different vibe for that moment. I was hoping.... I just don't understand why they refused to acknowledge it."

"The point is," Adrianne spoke up before Sal could formulate a response, "that it was really none of your business. If they were bad for morale, then you should have separated them – taken them out of a position to have to interact with one another. Do you realize what you've done? Better yet, do you know how to fix it?"

Billy chuckled nervously. "Fix it? Despite my best intentions, this situation is fucked up beyond all repair. I don't think any further involvement on my part will serve to make things better."

"Perhaps I should take care of this," Sal said after another awkward moment of silence. He folded his hands and pressed them lightly against his lips. "You might have had the right idea, Wainwright; you simply suffered from poor execution."

"You think you can do better?" Billy sneered.

"I know I can," Sal announced calmly.

"And you're willing to risk your niece's wrath?"

For the first time, Sal gave them a genuine smile. "My niece is not here by her own choice, and she has not been happy since she returned to the Family. She'll get over it... eventually."

"And Sara?"

Sal shrugged. "I do not know your daughter, madam, therefore I cannot say for certain. What you and her father need to decide is if it is worth the risk. When you have reached a decision – if it is in favor of taking action to repair things, I will make the necessary arrangements."

"Do you really think it will work, Mr. Amici?"

"I think we have nothing to lose by trying again."

"Do it," Adrianne stated bluntly, holding up her hand to keep William Wainwright silent. "No, Billy... not this time. You don't get a vote. You haven't seen what your little fiasco did to our daughter. I've never seen her so angry...."

"And you want to exacerbate that anger by interfering a second time?"

"It's a little late for you to be worrying about the consequences, Billy. You started this. We're just trying to limit the damage you've done."

"And if it backfires?"

"Then you'll be no worse off than you are now and neither will Sara!" Adrianne drew a calming breath. "Billy... we have to do something. If what you said is true, then we have to try."

William Wainwright sighed and nodded at Sal. "All right, but if it doesn't work, I will take full responsibility. There is no reason to force them to turn their backs on all of us."

"Have a little faith, Wainwright – I'm not going to be a generous as you were."

************

"Fuck!" Simone griped as she blinked blue eyes open then slammed them shut, groaning as she rolled onto her side to keep from puking as she experienced a distinct sense of déjà vu. "Goddamnit... not again." She concentrated on breathing slowly, hoping to settle the sense of nausea that rolled through her body. "Tell me this is a fucking nightmare and I am just imagining that my life is repeating itself."

"Son of a bitch," Sara grumbled and curled into a ball. "I'm gonna kill him this time. I don't think a jury would convict me after this." Sara closed her eyes again, hoping to dispel the queasiness that made her want to upchuck her guts. When she finally felt a little of her equilibrium return, she forced her eyes open and peered at Simone. "You all right, Bleeder? You look a little green."

Simone opened her eyes, allowing Sara to see her misery briefly before closing them once more. She couldn't hide it and her pride was not worth the effort it took to pretend at the moment. Sara sighed and wondered if Simone felt as bad as she looked and in turn how badly she looked considering she felt like she'd been ridden by an elephant then pooped on for good measure.

Silence fell between them so absolute not even their slow, measured breathing could be heard without serious focus. However, if one had taken the time and the effort to do so, one would have noted that there was only one set of breathing – they were in perfect sync.

Time passed, though neither woman was aware of just how much time had passed. Eventually though, they were able to blink their eyes open without their heads pounding or their stomachs roiling. They did so, sitting up slowly until they were able to take in their surroundings.

It was a large, one room cabin complete with a small kitchen area of sorts, a bathroom sectioned off by glass blocks and a living/bedroom combination with a fireplace. They exchanged disbelieving looks and Simone rose shakily to her feet.

"You don't get to kill him... I do. 'Cause your old man didn't do this – Sal did."

"And you know this how?"

Simone pointed to the dartboard whose background was that of her uncle in hunting attire with an envelope pinned in the middle. "My Aunt made that years ago."

Sara's eyes widened. "Musta been a hell of a marriage," she muttered.

"They're still married," Simone said absently. "But they may not be when I got finished with him." She pulled the envelope from the board and opened it up, reading aloud.

Simone, (it read)

The time has come for you and Ms Wainwright to resolve whatever differences there are between you. The extent and the outcome of said resolution is entirely up to the two of you – unlike William Wainwright, I am not looking for a storybook ending.

I want you to know I am thrilled about your homecoming – however, I am not convinced you are happy in your decision to return to the Family. And I promised your mother to look after your best interests, even when they went against my own. If after this is finished between the two of you, you still desire to be my right hand, I will welcome you back with open arms. No more questions will be asked nor will doubts about your motives be speculated upon again.

As for Ms Wainwright, I have secured the same agreement – once the two of you have reached some sort of solution to resolve whatever is affecting the both of you, she will be allowed to return to her job at Wainwright Industries if it is her wish to do so. If not, her parents will send her on her way in peace and will give their blessing on her new career as a writer and photographer besides.

I am certain by now you realize where you are, by reputation if not by familiarity. Please do not try to leave here – it is currently not safe to do so. We will return for you when it is. That should allow you plenty of time to work things out.

If you do some investigating, you will find that the cabin is well stocked with basic dry good and there is running water. There is, however, no electricity. You will need to chop wood for your fires, hunt game for your meat and essentially learn to survive up there together for the next three to four months. There are emergency medical supplies in the basement, but try not to need them. I have assured Carmena that this is perfectly safe – and it will be as long as you are careful.

I am certain you are cursing my name at this point and to some extent I cannot blame you. I would never have gotten involved in this if William Wainwright had not made such a cock up of his effort to 'fix' things. Actually, if he had left you two alone to begin with, this would have been unnecessary, but we can discuss the semantics of the situation when you return.

Look at this as a business problem that needs an outcome that will satisfy everyone involved. I am certain the two of you will be able to come up with something. We will see you in the spring.

Sal

They were mute for several moments after that, trying to absorb the unreality of their situation. "I do not fucking believe this," Simone finally muttered. "I hope Carmena has good insurance on him because I'm gonna kill him and make it look like an accident. Then I'm gonna kill him again just for grins and giggles."

"I have a better idea," Sara fumed. "Why don't we send them to jail together? It'll be just like this for them only it will last for years, and they can be someone else's bitch for a while."

Simone snorted. "Nice to see that mean streak focused somewhere else for a change."

Sara shrugged. "Give me a few. You're the only real target I've got here." She sighed. "Are we really stuck here for the next three or four months?"

"I dunno exactly. I only know this place by reputation; I've never actually been here." Simone slowly stood up and stretched. Sara rose as well and they went to the door – only to find snow on the ground when they opened it. "Dammit!"

Sara looked out at the landscape for a long moment before turning her attention back to Simone who had already retreated back inside. "Where are we?" she asked, shivering and closing the door behind her. She watched Simone drop onto the couch and decided to prowl around the cabin while she waited for an answer.

It was spacious, all things considered. The kitchen had a large, old working woodstove, several large wooden cabinets and a long bar with several stools that separated it from the living area. The bathroom area was large and open with a different function in each corner all separated by half-walls. The living area took up the largest part of the cabin by far. The fireplace sat in the middle of one wall, flanked on either side by full bookshelves. There was a couch in front of the fireplace and two custom length bunk beds against the wall opposite the door.

"Well, that's a blessing at any rate," Sara muttered to herself, crossing her arms over her chest. "At least they don't expect us to share a bed."

"Yeah, that'd be about the perfect end to this stellar day," Simone snarked. Sara opened her mouth to make a scathing retort but Simone continued to speak. "We are so fucking screwed."

"I thought that was what this was about... screwing us."

"Get your head out of your ass for two seconds! Can you hunt... or cut firewood? Because I have never done either and I'm pretty sure we're gonna need those two skills eventually."

"Get *my* head out of *my* ass?? Stupid bi...!" So much for a lasting truce, Sara thought as she blew out a breath. "As a matter of fact, I can do both – I learned on the ranch when I was a kid. But why don't we just leave? The snow is not that deep yet."

Simone blew out her own deep breath, frustrated beyond words at the moment. She was angry... furious, actually... but for a change it wasn't directed at the woman she was once more forced to share living space with. As far as Sara was concerned, Simone was tired to the point of exhaustion. "Look, I don't wanna be here with you any more than you wanna be here with me, but since we're stuck here for a while, I'm gonna try and explain this without getting angry at you."

"That'd be a nice change. Does that mean we're under a truce now?"

"Whatever." She ran her hands through her hair. "You know who Sal Amici is?" waiting for Sara to nod her head after her eyes had widened significantly. "He's my uncle. When his grandfather... my great-grandfather... was young, he was already a big part of the Family business. And he decided he wanted a place to get away from everything... somewhere so remote that no one could reach him... where he needed to arrange transportation in and out before he came here. I don't know how the place was built – it was completed long before I was born.

Since then, the location of this place has been kept secret, handed down from fathers to sons as they reached puberty. Sal broke tradition and brought Carmena once – she hated it. Hence the dartboard," Simone motioned towards the wall. "All I know is that this place is remote and is located far enough north of the equator that snow is sticking to the ground and already starting to pile up before fall is officially over. I don't know what country, what continent... hell, I don't even know which hemisphere we're in, so we could be south of the equator for all I know."

"Well, that's just fucking great," Sara grumbled in an exasperated tone. "Bleeder, I've got to tell you – what my father did was over the top, but this... this takes the cake. Now what?"

Simone shrugged. "I wish to hell I knew."

************

"Are you sure this is going to work, Amici?" Sal raised his eyebrow at William Wainwright's familiarity. Rocky stepped forward to correct him, but Sal waved him off and the big man blended back into the wall. Wainwright noticed though and cleared his throat awkwardly. "I mean...."

Sal held up his hand. "I do not see that we have a choice at this point, Wainwright. The situation had to be rectified and steps have been taken to insure that the two of them have the time they need to work things out."

"So where did you put them?"

"That does not concern you. What matters now is that they settle whatever is between them without further interference from anyone."

"Mr. Amici, are they safe?"

Carmena covered Adrianne's hands with hers before Sal could open his mouth to respond. "Don't worry, my dear. My Sal knows not to let anything happen to Simone." Her dark eyes twinkled. "Everyone may answer to Sal Amici, but Sal Amici answers to me," she said with a pointed look in his direction. Sal merely smiled and raised his hands, deferring to her summation.

Adrianne Wainwright joined CarmenaAmici's laughter. William Wainwright was smart enough to remain silent and straight-faced. He had no desire to meet Rocky up close and personal.

************

They had gone through their supplies, pleased to have found a well stocked cellar and logs already felled and waiting to be chopped into smaller pieces. There was a good supply of cut wood on hand, extra blankets, a stack of writing tablets and several sketch pads, pencils in a variety of colors and Sara's camera bag with rolls of film.

They had ventured around briefly while they'd been outdoors, satisfied that they had absolutely no idea where there were. The only thing they had been able to determine was the direction of the sun, and that hadn't been particularly enlightening. Happily, there was a small tool shed with all the tools they might need set up next to the cabin as well as a lean-to that covered the already cut wood.

Now they were sitting in front of the fireplace struggling to light it. Though the cabin was solid and well-insulated against the cold, a fire would go a long way towards cutting the chill both felt in their bones. Besides, there was something about a fire that was comforting, and they were both in need of a little of that.

So naturally they fell back into their comfortable pattern of fighting as well, ignoring how much the barbs cut and stung one another.

"Wait... let me get this straight," Simone said as she stood to get some space from Sara. "You were taught to handle an axe and a gun, but you weren’t taught to build a fire without matches?!?" They had already searched for matches or a lighter and had come up empty.

"YES!" Sara shouted, standing stiffly. "Didn’t I just *say* that?? God, is there something wrong with your hearing as well as your mind that you aren’t getting this or are you just purely stupid?!"

"I am NOT stupid!!" Simone growled, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Neither am I," Sara mumbled, suddenly tired. "Look... we can figure this out. I saw Papa do it on occasion, but he died before he taught me. And my father never had the time."

Simone nodded but didn’t answer. She had a feeling Sara was leaving a lot out, but ultimately, she didn’t think it was her business. "So how do we do this?"

"We need some kindling... something to pack between the logs to help them catch," gratefully accepting the change of subject, though she knew Simone already knew this. She had no desire to air her dirty laundry in front of her worst enemy – eventually they would be out of this place and Sara wasn’t going to give Simone any ammunition to use against her when they did. "Newspaper or moss or...." Sara scratched her head. "Hang on," going out the door that went directly into the shed. "Aha!"

Simone’s eyebrow sailed into her hairline and she waited for Sara to return. When she did, the second brow joined the first. Sara held a small basket of wood chips. "Kindling," Sara explained succinctly as she knelt in front of the fireplace. Simone nodded and stepped back to allow Sara to work.

Once the wood was laid and the chips were packed into the spaces between the logs, Sara motioned to the two rocks sitting on the mantle. Simone picked up a flint and striker and held them out. "You have got to be kidding me."

Sara shook her head. "It's all we've got," reaching for the tools. She tried several times before her frustration started to get the better of her. Without a word, Simone gently lifted them from Sara’s grasp, striking three times before the sparks caught. Sara glared briefly, then decided she was too tired to argue about it. Simone just shrugged and returned the flint and striker to the mantle.

"You hungry?"

It was Sara's turn to shrug. "A little. Still kind of nauseated from that crap they keep knocking us out with. It makes me just want to...."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Simone replied, rubbing the back of her neck again. "Feels like they smacked me in the head with a slugger."

Unexpectedly, Sara stepped up behind her and gently ran her hands over the back of Simone's skull. Simone froze, unable to breathe. "I don't feel anything," she said, dropping her arms and moving into the kitchen. "What do you want to eat?"

Simone blinked. "Something easy... maybe a sandwich. I'll start cooking tomorrow, but tonight...."

"Yeah – tomorrow we'll sit down and figure out what the hell we need to do over the next few months. Tonight I just want to eat a bite and go to bed. Fur rugs or not, this floor isn't that comfortable." Simone nodded and soon they were eating peanut butter and jelly.

"This isn't the same without milk."

"No, but at least I don't feel like puking now. Top or bottom?" Sara asked, pointing to the beds. Simone shrugged. "I'll take the top then. I think the bottom was made for tall people. 'Night."

Simone didn't even bother to dissimulate – she just followed Sara to the beds and collapsed in hers. With any luck, things would look better when she woke up.

************

"Okay... this is not better," Simone grumbled as she blinked her eyes open. The sun was up, but the air around her was noticeably cooler than the warmth under her blankets. Still, it wasn't getting any warmer lying there, so she jumped from the bed, cursing under her breath all the way to the fireplace.

She snagged more wood from the wood box, building it up carefully the way she'd seen Sara do it the night before. She stuffed kindling in the spaces and stood up to grab the striker and flint.

"Damn," Sara griped as she stuck her head out into the cool air surrounding her outside her cocoon. "I forgot to bank the fire last night – not that I actually know *how* to bank a fire." The sound of the fire being lit caused her to open her eyes and turn her head. "Hey... nice job on the fire there, Bleeder."

"Many skills," Simone snarked, turning to light the woodstove. "Breakfast?"

Sara bit her lip to keep from making the retort that had sprung to her lips at Simone's biting tone. "Sure... can I help?"

Simone shrugged. "If you wanna. Figure we may as well use up the perishables while we've got 'em and they're still good."

Sara nodded and climbed from the bed, unwilling to jump after having sprained her ankle once before. They couldn't afford to get hurt out here; they were completely cut off... literally on their own. She crossed to the kitchen area, just in time to see Simone jerk her hand from the stove and cradle her arm.

"Let me see," Sara said, reaching for the injured limb. Simone glared at her and clutched it tighter to herself. "Bleeder...." She sighed. "Simone, please. We don't have to like one another, but we do need to work together as long as we're stuck here. There is no one to bail us out if something happens – we have to look out for each other, all right?" Simone held her gaze for a long moment before holding her hand out. Sara looked down and winced. The gash was deep, but cleanly sliced. "Let me get the first aid sup