Remember WENN and its characters are copyright Rupert Holmes, Howard Meltzer and 
AMC. No infringement is intended. The story is mine as are any original characters.

I don't know where this story came from. I was having a chat one night about "what ifs 
with Dani and the following day, I sat down and began this story. It was originally 
intended to be a story that we only shared between the two of us, given the subject 
matter. But 48 pages later, after many comments from my Beta readers, I have decided to 
send it down the list. 

This story quite literally took over and wrote itself. There are several things in it that had 
not at all been planned. In fact, after the first paragraph I gave up planning anything for 
this.

It is somewhat violent and is much darker than any WENN story that has been written. I 
would love to hear any comments you have regarding this story. 

Thanks Dani for the encouragement to publicly post this. :-)

Story is set in March of 1942

Adjustments
by Michele Savage

Joseph O'Malley gave a chuckle when he saw Hilary Booth stomp away from the table 
she'd been occupying with her husband. He noticed that Jeff walked to the 
bar instead of following her out like he normally did.

"Not going after her?" he asked as Jeff walked up to him and ordered another beer.

"I'm just putting off the inevitability of her meeting me at the front door with a flying 
plate." Jeff replied with a smile.

Joe laughed and handed him his beer. The friendly owner of O'Malley's Pub wiped the 
bar in front of him and turned away to his next customer.

	He took the bill from the man he'd turned to and the man walked out of the bar.

	Hilary mumbled curses under her breath as she paced in front of the door trying to 
talk herself out of going back in to apologize.  Several patrons left the bar and walked 
past her as if she were in their way.  Finally annoyed by that more than anything, Hilary 
decided to head on home.

	As she walked past the alley between O'Malley's and the general store next door 
to it, she was grabbed from behind and pushed into the darkness.  The abrupt movement 
tripped her and she fell to the ground.  She started to complain loudly when someone 
pounced on her and forced her back to the cool rough concrete.

	"What the hell--!" Her protest was cut short when a hand was clamped over her 
mouth.

	"Shuddup lady!" the man whispered. She could smell the heavy alcohol on his 
breath and knew he was drunk.  She thrashed wildly trying to get him off of her. Using 
his other hand, he pawed roughly at her breasts, mumbling insulting words of 
appreciation.

	When he began to push beneath her skirt, Hilary bit down hard on his hand. As he 
yelled and pulled the aching extremity away, she tried to scream. He hit her hard across 
the jaw in response. 
	"I told you, bitch, to shut up." He growled.

	"Let me go." She ordered.

	He only laughed, a harsh sniveling laugh, bent over her and whispered against her 
face, "not until I've had my fun."

	She knew then with certainty what he meant to do to her. She began to fight him 
again with earnest, only to earn a punch in the stomach. While she was gasping for 
breath, he pulled something from his pocket. She stilled when she felt a sharp point at her 
throat. "Don't hurt me, please."

	 "Keep fightin' me and I'll cut you." He warned, pricking her skin to punctuate his 
warning.

	Hilary inhaled sharply against the sudden pain, "Don't do this. Just let me go."

	She felt him move the knife and lifted her hand to her neck to feel how badly cut 
she was. Before she could react, he'd poked the knife into her dress, near the waist and 
ripped upward, tearing the fabric of her dress and her undergarments. She felt the blade 
cut into her skin as it moved through the material and screamed with pain.

	Without warning he stabbed the knife into the fleshy part of her shoulder, near her 
neck. "I said, shut up!"

	When she cried out, he clamped his hand over her mouth and ripped the knife 
away from her. He plunged the knife into her shoulder again as if to prove his point, and 
almost moaned in pleasure as he felt the wetness of her tears against his hand. 

	She felt him lay the knife on her stomach as he freed her breasts from the torn 
fabric. He removed his hand from her mouth, seeing that she was weakening enough to 
no longer protest. The man moved away from her long enough to push up her skirt and 
cut away her panties with the knife, again she felt the pain of her skin also being cut. 
"Please stop." She heard herself mumbling.

	The pain was beginning to overwhelm her. She could feel him pawing her body, 
felt him finger painting her with her own blood. She tried to lift her arm to push him 
away, but she found she barely had enough strength to move.
*Please don't let me die like this,* she silently prayed. She felt her hips being lifted as he 
moved himself into position. The last thing she felt before totally losing consciousness 
was the head of his penis driving forcefully into her. *I love you, Jeffrey,* was the last 
thought she had.



	When she came to, he was gone. She tried to move but was immediately assaulted 
with the sharpest pain she'd ever felt. "I have to get out of this alley." She said to herself. 
Before moving again, she lifted the arm that hurt the least and with a soft touch tried to 
assess her injuries.  She'd been stabbed twice in her right shoulder. She was losing quite a 
bit of blood from those wounds.

	She tried to pull as much of her dress as she could over herself, but he'd cut away 
so much, there was barely enough to cover her chest. Gingerly she rolled to the unhurt 
side and tried to scoot herself to the mouth of the alley. She knew as dark as it was, if she 
stayed there she'd bleed to death before anyone found her. 

	Once near the sidewalk, she could see people walking away from O'Malley's. She 
had no idea what time it was or how long she'd been unconscious. "Help" She cried. The 
call was too soft and no one heard her. She turned down the street toward her house and 
saw Jeff waiting for traffic to clear at the next street.

	"Jeffrey!" She called as loud as she could. It was still too soft to be heard. She 
took a deep pain-filled breath and tried again.  "Jeff!" this time he heard her, but 
apparently didn't recognize the sound.

	Someone did hear her and rushed to her side. Ron Gantry, another regular at the 
pub and a friend of Jeff's, who'd recognized her. "Oh, my god," He rolled her carefully. 
When she mildly protested out of fear and pain, he softly reminded her, "It's okay, Hilary. 
It's Ronny." He took his jacket off and covered her with it. He glanced up and saw the 
man he'd just left the pub with readying to cross the street.

	"Singer!" he yelled loudly.

	Jeff turned at the sound of his buddy Ron calling his name. He couldn't see from 
his distance, but it looked like the man was kneeling over someone. He started to walk 
back to Ron when he called again. "It's Hilary!"

	His heart stopped when he heard her name. He blindly ran to where she lay, 
barely aware of her surroundings.

	"I'll call an ambulance. Bring her into O'Malley's and get her off this street." Ron 
said as he rushed back into the pub.

	"Hilary sweetheart, I'm here."  Jeff said softly. He sat beside her and leaned over 
her. In the streetlight, he could see she was covered with blood and her clothes were 
nearly torn completely away. He was glad that Ron had covered her knowing that if she'd 
been aware of her appearance, she'd have been mortified. Jeff closed his eyes to tears that 
formed, a tear dripping onto her face, "I should have followed you, Mittens." He gently 
gathered her into his arms, mindful of any painful moan. "I'm never going to forgive 
myself for this, darling. This shouldn't have happened."

	He stood carefully and rushed into the bar. Ron had explained things to the 
owners and Rosie O'Malley met them at the door and ushered them immediately into the 
back sleeping room.

	"Lay her on the bed," she said in a soft Irish accent. She stood ready with a sheet 
to cover the again unconscious woman when her husband tenderly lay her down. Rosie 
shooed everyone but Jeff out of the room. She'd known these two long enough to know it 
would be pointless to even try to get Jeff to leave.


	In the light, her injuries looked brutal. Jeff sat on the bed next to her, and helped 
as Mrs. O'Malley removed what was left of the dress and inspected her wounds.

	"You realize that she was likely--"

	"I know." Jeff said quietly interrupting the woman before she could put into 
words what he'd been trying to deny.

	"Looks like she's been stabbed a couple times in her shoulder here," the woman 
explained, changing the subject. "This seems to be where most of the bleeding is coming 
from." She pressed a heavy towel against the stab wounds trying to stem the flow of the 
blood.

	"I see a cut here on her chest where the bast-" he stopped in deference to the 
woman present, "where he ripped her dress."

	Rosie put her hand on Jeff's arm, "You say whatever you feel, darling. Get the 
anger out now."

	"She can't die, Rosie. She's my life."  Jeff said with a heavy voice, while washing 
away some of the blood on Hilary's face.

	"Did someone call the police?" Jeff asked, his eyes never leaving Hilary.

	"Yes, Joseph did. They should be here soon." She answered.

	"Good, because I want the son of a bitch to pay for what he did." Jeff 
seethed angrily.

	The ambulance arrived at the same time the police did. Jeff spoke to the officers 
only until the ambulance drivers were ready to leave. The police assured him that they 
would be at the hospital later to talk to him.


	The ride to the hospital was the longest trip Jeff had ever taken. He sat in the front 
seat with the ambulance driver and Mrs. O'Malley, who had insisted on going along, rode 
in the back with the other man and Hilary.

	He stared out the window as the city sped by, trying to keep his mind away from 
the image of his wife lying in a pool of her own blood in the alley. Finally they turned 
into the hospital driveway and the long ride was over.


	"Here, Jeffrey. Drink this coffee." Mrs. O'Malley urged as they waited in the stark 
ER waiting room.

	"I can't Rosie, thanks." He refused for the third time.

	"Son, you need to keep up your own strength." She lightly reprimanded.

	He gave in and took the cup. "I wonder what is taking so long." 

	"It's only been an hour."

	Jeff took a deep emotional breath, "I feel like I've been here forever."

	The woman gave him a comforting pat on the knee, "It'll be all right."


	"Jeffrey."

	He looked up when he heard the familiar British voice. He stood quickly, "Is she 
going to be all right, Mary?"

	"I'll leave two of you to talk." Mrs. O'Malley said and walked to the coffeepot and 
sat.


	"Let's sit down here Jeff." The woman suggested and sat.

	He sat next to her, "Mary . . ." he said in a worried tone.

	"She was hurt very badly, but she'll be all right." Mary explained, and 
immediately felt a good amount of tension leave the young man's body.

	"Thank god." He whispered. More hesitantly, Jeff asked, "What did he do to her?"

	Mary took his hand, "She was stabbed twice in the right shoulder; right about 
here," She pointed at her own shoulder as an example. "There was a long shallow cut on 
her chest, she's got several scratches and bruises on her face and neck and breasts," she 
stopped momentarily, seeing the sharp reaction her words caused. She draped her arm 
comfortingly over the man's shoulder. It killed her to have to be telling him this. She'd 
come to love the Singer's as if they were her own children.

She hugged him tightly to her before telling him the final news, "Jeff," she began softly, 
"he raped her." No sooner had the words left her mouth than she could feel him start to 
sob against her shoulder. "Let it out, love, let it out."  She felt her own tears begin and 
rocked him gently for several moments. She cleared her throat and sat, "Let me go check 
with the doctor, and make sure Hilary is in a private room. I'll let you know when you 
can see her."

	"Thanks, Mary." He hugged her again and wiped the tears on his sleeve as she left 
him alone. With a jolt he realized he himself was still covered with blood. *I need to 
change clothes,* he thought numbly. 

	Rosie O'Malley walked back to Jeff when she saw the nurse leave. "How is she?"

	"Badly hurt, but she'll be all right." He answered automatically. "Mary is going to 
make sure she's in a room and comfortable before I can see her."

	"That's a relief." The woman replied honestly.

	"I just can't get the image of her covered with blood out of my mind." Jeff said, 
while staring at his own bloodstained hands. 

	"It'll take a while, Jeff." Rosie said, "But it'll fade like your nightmares have."

	"How did you know about those?"

	"Women tend to confide in each other." She answered, "Hilary loves you more 
than she'd admit."

	"I know Rosie," Jeff took a deep breath, "I know it every time she looks at me."

	Joe O'Malley stepped into the waiting room and greeted the two. "The police have 
done their business for the night." He explained, "They said they'd be by here tomorrow 
to speak to you."

	"Okay. I'll be here." Jeff replied.

	"Joseph, why don't you take me home, so Jeff here can go be where he needs to 
be." Rosie said, having seen Mary walking toward them.

	"All right, my dear." He agreed. Turning to Jeff, he hugged him, "You take care, 
my boy. And you tell that pretty lady of yours that we're all thinking about her."

	"I will, thanks Joe." Jeff acknowledged. "I'll call you tomorrow with an update." 
He turned to the small woman standing next to her husband, "Thanks a lot Rosie."

	She hugged Jeff tightly. "You keep your chin up. And don't hesitate to call if 
either of you need us."

	"Rosie," Jeff said before she turned away, "I do need a favor, if you would 
please." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his house keys, chose the front door 
key and handed it to her, "Can you go get me a change of clothes. The bedroom is at the 
top of the stairs, first door on the left." He explained, feeling as though someone else was 
speaking. "My dresser is against the wall near the bathroom door."

	"I sure will, honey." She replied, "I'll pack you a few things in a suitcase and we'll 
bring them back tonight. Mary will tell us what room you'll be in."

	"Okay, thanks." Jeff responded. He turned to Mary, waited until she spoke to the 
O'Malley's and then asked, "Where is she? I want to see her."

	Mary gestured for him to follow her and they walked toward the elevator. "I had 
them put her in a room on my floor. It's a corner room, very private." She explained as 
they rode upward to the third floor. "And before you ask, yes I had them move an extra 
bed into the room for you."

	"Thanks Mary. I can't tell you enough how much you are appreciated."

	She lay her hand on Jeff's arm, "I'd do anything for you two kids. You're the 
closest thing to a family I have in this world."

	They walked down the hall to the room. Before opening the door, Mary stopped 
Jeff and whispered, "She's still heavily sedated, so it's likely she'll sleep for several hours. 
She needs that sleep right now more than anything."

	"All right."

	"If you need anything for any reason, I still have another three hours left on my 
shift. Just call me." Mary told him, then opened the door and followed him into the room. 
"I'll bring the clothes for you when Mrs. O'Malley gets back here with them." 

	He walked slowly to the bed thinking that he'd never seen his Hilary Booth 
looking so small and helpless. Her jaw and neck were bruised and she was wrapped 
tightly in bandages across her shoulder; the arm in a sling to keep it immobile. There was 
a bandage on her neck, and he assumed there were several other bandages he couldn't see 
for the loosely fitted hospital gown and sheet she was tucked into.

	He bent, lightly brushed a kiss across her forehead and whispered quietly, "I'm 
here with you, Mittens. I'm not leaving you."

	She moaned slightly in her sleep. Whether from pain or recognition of his voice, 
Jeff wasn't sure. He looked up and realized that Mary had slipped from the room. He 
started to brush a tendril of hair from Hilary's forehead when he noticed his hands were 
still dirty. Intending to clean himself of any remnants of the attack before she woke up, 
Jeff walked into the bathroom.

	He flipped on the light and recoiled in shock at his image. He hadn't realized he 
had so much of her blood on him. Blood was spattered on his cheek, his neck and his 
hands. The shirt he wore would be one he'd never wear again. Across his chest where 
he'd held her was blood-soaked. He looked at his pants, blood and dirt from the street 
were on his legs and across the seat when he sat next to Hilary and pulled her into his 
arms.

	Suddenly the images started flashing in front of his eyes, his mind vividly filling 
in the blanks of what must have happened to her. He backed away from the mirror in 
horror and was stopped by the wall. Suddenly the room closed in on him and he felt as if 
he couldn't breath. Sliding down the wall, he curled into a tight ball and tried to block out 
the scene. "No. . . stop . . ." he mumbled against his arms before he broke down and 
completely lost control. "I should have been there to protect you." He muttered as he 
sobbed, "I let you down Hilary."

	He had no idea how long he cowered in the corner of the bathroom crying, but 
suddenly Mary was there. "Jeffrey," She pulled him into her arms and rocked him gently, 
trying to ease as much of his emotional pain as she could. He repeatedly mumbled that 
he'd let Hilary down. Mary tried to shush him softly and reminded him that what had 
happened was out of his hands. He'd had no control over it.

	She knew he'd feel better once he was in clean dry clothes, so she pulled the clean 
change of clothes from the suitcase she'd just received from Mrs. O'Malley and while 
rocking him against her, she unbuttoned the bloody shirt and let him help her slip it off.

	Seeing blood had soaked through to his skin, Mary gently told him she'd 
give him a sponge bath.

	"No Mary. I can do that." He protested trying to pull himself together.

	"Nonsense," she clucked, "Have you forgotten who took care of you in London? 
I've seen more of you than you'd care to admit." She added, in hopes of at least making 
him smile. He gave her a halfhearted grin, which to her meant the world. "Here, let's get 
you off the floor and out of these old clothes."

	He let her help him onto the closed lid of the toilet seat and helped as she stripped 
him of the bloody clothes. She filled a pan full of warm water and dipped a sponge into it. 
She wrung out the soft material and started to wash his face. He lifted his hand again to 
protest, "Mary, really I can do this."

	She pushed his hand away, "You hush up and let old Mary take care of you again. 
I'll have you nice and clean and warmly dressed in no time."

	He closed his eyes and leaned back, her ministrations beginning to relax him. She 
soon had him dressed and feeling better. "There you are. All nice and handsome, like 
usual."  She planted a motherly kiss on his forehead and helped him to his feet. "Let's get 
you out of here and into bed." They walked back into the darkened room, just now 
beginning to glow with the early rising sun. Mary pulled back the covers on the cot that 
was placed next to Hilary's bed.

	Before laying down, Jeff walked to his sleeping wife and kissed her softly. "I'm 
never far from you, Mittens." He whispered then walked back to the cot and sat.

	"Here, I brought you a couple sedatives." Mary explained, "I want you to take 
them."

	"No Mary." He protested, "I want to be able to wake if she needs me."

	"Jeffrey, you need to get your sleep as much as she does. I and the other nurses 
will be checking on her regularly." She reminded. She handed him the pills and a dixie-
cup of water, "Now you take these and sleep as long as your body needs to."

	"You aren't going to take no for an answer." He commented.

	"You've known me long enough Jeffrey Singer, to know the answer to that." She 
retorted as she waited until he took the pills.

	He took the medicine and lay down. As he pulled the covers up, he glanced at the 
woman who slept in the next bed. "You'll take care of her," He whispered.

	"Don't you worry. She is in very capable hands here." Mary said, as she tucked 
him in tightly.

	As she walked away, Jeff suddenly sat, having remembered something. "I need to 
call Scott."

	"What?" Mary asked, turning back toward him.

	"I need to tell him we won't be in tonight. He'll have to find someone else to do 
Calico Jones." Jeff continued.

	Mary pushed him back, "You lay down. I'll call Mr. Sherwood and explain."

	"You won't-" Jeff started to say, not wanting everything to be spread through the 
WENN grapevine.

	"I'll tell him what he needs to know and that's all. Anything else is up to you." She 
assured. "Now lay down before I tie you down."

	Jeff gave in with a smile, "Thanks Mary." She left the room, and Jeff lay on his 
side facing Hilary. The bed he was in was substantially lower than hers, but he still was 
comforted by the sound of her even breathing. "Dream peacefully, darling." He 
whispered before closing his eyes and wishing for a dreamless slumber for himself.


	Scott hung up the phone, his mind still not quite believing what Mary Ellis had 
just told him. She explained that due to the nature of the attack, it was best to keep the 
details to himself and let Jeff and Hilary decide how much they wanted everyone to 
know. He looked up and saw Maple walking past his open office door.

	"Hey, Mapes. Could ya come here a second? And shut the door behind you." He 
called.

	"Sure Scotty, what's up?"

	"Do you think you and Mackie can be available to do Calico Jones tonight?"

	She chuckled, "What's the matter, Hilary and Jeff have the blue flue. Again?
	"It's a little more serious than that Maple." Scott said somberly.

	She sat as her smiled faded with the serious look on his face, "What's wrong?"

	He sat back, propped his elbow on the arm of his chair and covered his mouth 
with his hand, "Maple what I'm going to tell you doesn't leave this room. I'm only telling 
you because I think you'd be the understanding ear Hilary's going to need." He sat and 
relayed the message that Mary had just told him.

	"Oh jeez, Scotty. Is she going to be okay?"

	"You know Hildy, she's strong." He sat straight, "With a lot of love and patience, 
she'll get through this."

	"How is Jeff taking it?" Maple asked.

	"Mary said she sedated him to get him to sleep, but he's not taking this well." 
Scott explained.

	"Do they have a jinx magnet or something?" Maple questioned, "it seems like no 
sooner than things start going right for them, things go wrong again."

	"I don't know Mapes. Only three months ago we were at their wedding."

	"Yeah." Maple answered, "Hey Scotty do you think you can do without me until 
Calico Jones tonight? I'm going to run to the hospital."

	"You go ahead. Give Hil a hug for me okay; and tell them you are the only person 
I told. I'll tell everyone else they've got the flu or something." Scott told her.

	"Sure thing, Scotty. I'll be back by seven." Maple said and left the office.


	Jeff awoke to the sound of muffled voices. He sat and realized that Hilary was 
awake and talking to Maple.

	"Oh look, Sleeping Beauty is awake." Maple said with a grin.

	Hilary slowly turned her head towards where she'd heard him stirring and winced 
as a bolt of pain told her she'd moved too far. She must have audibly moaned because 
Jeff was at her side in an instant.

	"Darling, you okay?"

	"Yes, I just turned my head too far." She assured him.

	He glanced at Maple, "What are you doing here?"

	"Scotty told me."

	Jeff huffed frustratedly, "I told Mary-"

	"Everyone else thinks you both have the flu." Maple interrupted his words, 
"Scotty told me because he knew I'd understand."

	"It's all right, Pumpkin." Hilary spoke up, "You know, Maple and I have actually 
been talking,"

	"Yeah that's a first," Maple interrupted with a chuckle.

	"There is really a lot we have in common." Hilary continued.

	Maple looked at her watch, "Such as we're both going to miss Calico Jones 
tonight if I don't get my keister back to the station." She stood, "Anytime you want to 
talk, Hilary, I gave you my phone number. Don't worry about the time, day or night."

	Hilary reached for the woman's hand, "Thank you Maple. I haven't always been 
kind to you but I do want you to know that you are a friend."

	"She's always mean to people she loves, look at me." Jeff added as he walked to 
the side of the bed that Maple stood on.

	Maple smiled and lay a hand on Jeff's arm, "Same goes for you too you know. If 
you need to talk, call."

	"Thanks Maple. I will." Jeff acknowledged and watched as she walked out of the 
room.

	He pulled up a chair and sat, "How are you feeling?" he asked softly, brushing his 
thumb across Hilary's forehead.

	"Like I've been hit by a truck." She with a wan grin, "I ache in parts of my body I 
didn't know -could- ache."

	"I'm so sorry I didn't follow you out." Jeff apologized, trying to stop threatening 
tears.

	Hilary slowly lifted the arm nearest Jeff and lay her hand on his cheek, "Pumpkin, 
it isn't your fault. I stood outside the door at the pub for several minutes fighting with 
myself over whether or not to go back in." She explained, "I'd been lying here awake 
until Maple came in and going over the what ifs in my head. What if I'd gone back in; 
what if you'd followed me home? Darling if we dwell on those questions it'll tear us both 
apart."

	She drew a careful deep breath and tried to lighten the mood, "Why don't you 
open the curtains. Lets see what kind of March day it is out."

	A knock was heard on the door and Jeff moved to answer it. "Hi Rosie" he said as 
Mrs. O'Malley stepped into the room carrying a bouquet of flowers. "Thanks for the 
clothes."

	"Oh it was no problem." She said, "Here is your key." She handed Jeff his door 
key.

	"Oh, thanks." He said as he put the key in his pocket.

	She walked into the room, "Hello Hilary." She said as she noticed the woman was 
awake. "I brought you some flowers from my garden."

	"Oh Rosie those are lovely, thank you." Hilary responded when the woman 
walked into her line of sight. 

	"Where do you want me to set them?"

	"Could you put them on this table here," Hilary pointed to the small table next to 
the bed, "That way I can see them. I can't turn my head to the right."

	"All right then," Rosie said as she placed the flowers within Hilary's line of 
vision.

	"They smell lovely, too. Don't they Jeffrey?" Hilary noted.

	"Yes they do, Mittens." He replied and walked closer to her. He casually lay a 
hand on her leg as he couldn't reach her hand.

	When she felt the contact on her leg, Hilary recoiled, pulling away in an 
automatic reflex. She winced at the pain her sudden movement caused.

	Jeff pulled his hand away quickly, "I'm sorry, I didn't think."

	Hilary covered her forehead with her hand and said sadly, "You shouldn't have to 
think about where you touch me."

	"Let me leave the two of you alone." Rosie mentioned, suddenly feeling as if she 
were in the way.

	"No, Rosie, you don't have to leave." Hilary responded.

	"Please stay and visit." Jeff added. "Since I'm not privileged enough for a catered 
meal, I'm going to run to the cafeteria to eat something." He bent to kiss Hilary, "You'll 
be all right?"

	"Of course she will. We'll have a nice visit while you are gone." Mrs. O'Malley 
assured him.

	Jeff left the room and stopped at the nurses station to let them know where he 
would be should Hilary need him for anything.

	They assured him everything would be okay and he walked on to the elevator. 
One nurse turned to the other, "Gee that's a lucky woman."

	Her companion chuckled, "Yeah, we should all be so lucky. That is one swell 
looking man."

	The first nurse that spoke giggled and handed her friend a chart. "Here get your 
mind back onto the work."


	Jeff sat with his tray of food and tried to eat. He couldn't stop thinking about what 
had just happened. He couldn't even touch her.  There were so many things that they both 
were going to have to re-adjust. He hoped not for long. They couldn't go the rest of their 
lives without touching. The physical contact in their marriage was just as important as the 
emotional contact. He only hoped that both of those things weren't irreparably damaged.

	Suddenly his appetite was completely gone. He lay his head against his hands and 
tried desperately to quell the overwhelming sense that their relationship had died the 
previous night.

	"Excuse me, Mr. Singer?" Jeff nearly jumped out of his skin as he felt the hand on 
his shoulder.

	"What!" He looked up quickly and saw an older police officer standing over him. 
"Oh. I'm sorry." He said wiping evidence of his tears from his face with the cloth napkin.

	"No, I shouldn't have just barged in on you like that. I apologize." The officer 
joined him at the table, "I'm Jim Clarkson, the leading officer on this investigation. The 
nurses upstairs told me I could find you here."

	"Have you found him yet?" Jeff asked.

	"No. We went over the scene today with a fine toothed comb. We found the knife, 
remnants of clothes," he stopped talking when he saw the man sitting opposite him react, 
"I'm sorry. If you'd like we can do this some other time."

	"No." Jeff said quickly. "I want him caught and I want him hanged." He angrily 
admitted, then apologized.

	"Don't apologize. If that was my Sheila in the bed your wife is in, I'd be out for 
blood too." Officer Clarkson admitted. "Do you think your wife could describe her 
attacker?"

	"I don't know. I really haven't had a chance to speak with her about that. I've been 
hesitant to bring it up." Jeff answered honestly.

	"Would you mind if I talked to her?"

	"Only if you don't pressure her." Jeff agreed with conditions. "The minute she 
starts getting upset, stop."

	"Would you rather I had a female officer talk to her?" He offered.

	"Go ahead and talk to her since you're here. But if she gets too upset, yes I 
would." Jeff said. "Oh, and I'm going to be there when you talk to her so don't even 
bother trying to get rid of me."

	"I understand." The officer stood and waited until Jeff threw away his uneaten 
food and followed him upstairs.


	When the two men walked into the room, Hilary was alone and staring out the 
open curtains. Jeff could hear that Rosie had turned on the radio that sat on the table 
behind the flowers. Calico Jones was currently being broadcast.

	Hilary wiped her eyes and put on her best 'facing the public' mask. "Did you have 
a nice supper, Jeffrey?" Her forced smile faded slightly when she saw the uniformed 
officer walk into her sight behind Jeff.

	"Darling, this is Jim Clarkson. If you feel up to it, he'd like to ask you a few 
questions." Jeff explained, taking her hand.

	The gentle looking man smiled as he spoke. "It shouldn't take too long, Mrs. 
Singer."

	Hilary shifted uncomfortably, then grimaced when her shoulder reminded her that 
had been a bad idea. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to force back the tears of 
frustration. She didn't want either of the two men to see her cry. Dammit, she was Hilary 
Booth, not some whining girl.

	"Hilary, are you all right?" Jeff asked, concerned.

	"I'm fine!" she snapped. She immediately regretted her tone of voice. He was only 
trying to be help. "I'm sorry, darling." She apologized and squeezed his hand lightly. 
"What kind of questions do you need to ask?" she addressed the officer, who'd pulled a 
chair closer and sat.

	"We are trying to locate the man who attacked you." He started gently, "The 
sooner we put together the puzzle, the faster we can try to prosecute."

	"Try to prosecute?" Hilary asked sharply. "He nearly to killed me! He-" she 
hesitated, "he assaulted me. A man like that should not be walking the streets!" She 
closed her eyes as her upper body protested painfully at her agitated words.

	"Hilary darling, try to calm down." Jeff urged softly.

	She drew a breath and calmed herself. "I'm all right." She looked at the officer, 
"Please go on with your questions."

	"I might have to be blunt." He warned, "If you feel uncomfortable at anytime, 
stop me okay?"

	"All right." She responded.

	"Let's start at the beginning. Do you know what time you left O'Malley's?" The 
officer asked, opening a notebook to write down her answers.

	"I don't know." She glanced toward Jeff, "We argued, I stormed out. I 
didn't look at the clock."

	Jim turned to Jeff, "What did you do after she left?"

	"I walked to the bar and ordered a beer." Jeff explained. "Usually I follow her out 
and catch up to her as she's walking, but that night . . . I didn't."

	"Do you normally walk home from O'Malley's?" Jim asked.

	"We only live two blocks away. Neither of us drive and it's useless to call a cab 
for two blocks." Jeff explained.

	"That makes sense." Jim said as he wrote down the information. "I take it then, 
you are regulars there?"

	"Yes." Hilary answered, "In fact, the owners are close friends."

	"Did either of you see anyone out of the ordinary that night?"

	"I don't recall." Hilary said, "We were sitting at the corner table we usually 
occupy. It's more private."

	"Did you see anyone follow her out when she left?" Jim addressed Jeff again.

	Jeff went over the memory of her leaving that night, "No. I just went to the bar, 
ordered the beer, and talked to Joe for a second before he turned to another customer. A 
friend of mine, Ron Gantry, came in. I do remember that because I asked him to sit with 
me at the table."

	"Yes, I talked with Mr. Gantry last night."

	Jim turned to Hilary. "These are the harder questions. Just take it slow, okay?"

	She slightly nodded, "Okay."

	"What did you do when you left?"

	"As usual when Jeff and I argue, my first instinct is to storm off, which 
is exactly what I did." She recalled, "As soon as I got outside the somewhat chilly breeze 
calmed me a bit and I paced for a moment trying to decide whether or not to go back in 
and apologize."

	"Did you see anyone leave?

	"People left, people arrived. I remember when Ronny got there. He laughed when 
he saw me and asked if Jeff and I had had another fight. I basically told him to go to hell 
and that's when I started for home."

	"What happened next?"

	"I walked past the alley and someone grabbed me from behind." She stopped and 
pulled her hand away from Jeff's to wipe a tear she felt dripping down her temple. "I fell 
and it was dark, I couldn't see. Someone jumped onto me and forced me to the ground. 
He was drunk. Very drunk, I could smell his breath as soon as he got near me." As she 
spoke, Hilary gave up trying to stop the tears. 

	Jeff wiped her tears away with his hand as they fell. She leaned her head closer, 
his touch comforting.

	"He . . . his hands were all over me. I tried to fight him off and yell 
for help, but he punched me in the stomach. That's when he put the knife-" She stopped, 
and closed her eyes tightly. She put her hand over her face and began to lightly sob, "I 
can't - everything after that is a painful blur."

	Jeff turned to the officer, "I think that's enough."

	"I understand. I've got a lot to go on here." Jim said as he stood, "If you remember 
anything else about who was at the pub last night, here is my phone number." He handed 
Jeff the piece of paper he'd written the number on. "I'll see myself out."

	"I want this pain to go away." Hilary cried softly. "It's so frustrating!" she said 
angrily hitting the mattress with her fist. As soon as her hand connected pain rippled 
across her chest. "Ow . . ." she put her hand on her chest. "Dammit."

	"Is there something I can do to make you more comfortable, sweetheart?" Jeff 
asked.

	She looked at him and smiled softly through her tears, "No pumpkin, I just need 
to have some patience."

	"That would be asking for a miracle." He kissed her hand and smiled when she 
did. "You've had a busy day with visitors, why don't you try and get some sleep." Jeff 
suggested.

	"I think I like that idea." She said. "You'll be here?"

	"I'm not leaving this hospital without you." He kissed her softly on the cheek. 
"I've got a cot right next to your bed, I think I'll lay down and try to sleep as well."

	He started to walk away when she stopped him, "Pumpkin!" 

	He turned, "What darling?"

	"I love you," she said through fresh tears.
	He walked back to her and bent to tenderly kiss her lips, "I love you too, Hilary."


	One week later, Hilary sat in a chair next to the window of her room. She'd only 
been able to get out of bed in the last two days and it still took all the strength she had. 
Her right upper arm was still bandaged tightly to her side, the lower half in a sling to 
keep it immobile. Her doctor had told her that the second stab wound cut through some 
muscles in her shoulder and she might not be able to completely lift her right arm.

	He'd said they tried to repair as much of the damaged muscle as they could, but 
there was still no guarantee. She still couldn't turn her head completely to the right, but 
the pain had lessened considerably and she was able to move her head farther. The cuts 
and bruises on the rest of her body were beginning to heal and fade.

	Jeff sat behind her brushing out her hair and humming softly a song that they used 
to sing together in Razzle Dazzle. She smiled and began to hum along with him.

	"Sometimes I miss touring." She interrupted quietly.

	"You do?" he asked surprised, "I seem to remember you did nothing but 
complain."

	"Oh, I did more than complain, Jeffrey Singer." She retorted.

	"Yes you did," he breathed softly against her neck.

	She stiffened and pulled away slightly. She realized her action and apologized.

	"It's okay." He assured her and continued combing her hair.

	"Knock, knock."

	"Hi Scott." Jeff said as the man walked into the room.

	Scott walked to where they sat, "I just thought I'd come see how Hildy was 
feeling."

	"Hilary!" She snapped.

	"And I see she's feeling just fine." Scott retorted without missing a beat. "Oh. I 
also brought you these," he gave her a bouquet of flowers, "If Jeff doesn't mind you 
getting gifts from your ex-husband."

	"As long as I'm not the ex-husband again, I don't mind." Jeff said with a grin and 
put the flowers on the table in the corner with the rest of the floral arrangements.

	Scott pulled up a chair, "So, seriously, how are you feeling Hilary?"

	"Better." She answered, "Still not sure when I'll get out of here. Soon, I hope. If 
the nurses don't kill me the food will."

	"I heard that, young lady!" Mary said from the inside of the door.

	"If MOST of the nurses don't kill me." Hilary amended. "On the other hand, if 
you keep calling me 'young lady' I might learn to like it here." 

	Mary smiled and rolled the cart she'd pushed in with her to the end of Hilary's 
hospital bed, "Okay boys, shoo. I've got to change Hilary's bandages and the doctor wants 
to see how things are going."

	Jeff set the brush onto the table, "Do you want me to help you into bed, darling?" 
he asked as he stood.

	"No Pumpkin, why don't you and Scotty go get some breakfast. Mary and I'll be 
fine." She assured.

	Mary looked at Jeff as she walked to help Hilary to her feet. "It'll probably be 
about an hour. Take your time."

	"I'll be back, Mittens." Jeff said as he leaned to kiss her.

	"I'll be here," she retorted back as the men walked out of the room.

	As Mary walked slowly with her to the bed, Hilary thought about the other news 
the doctor had given her the previous day. She hadn't said anything to Jeffrey yet as she 
still was worried.

	She sat on the bed and winced slightly as the cut on her chest pulled a bit. The 
nurse covered her and then pulled the cart with the bandages around.

	"Mary, are you sure everything is fine?" she asked as the woman removed 
Hilary's robe and lowered the right side of her hospital gown.

	"Of course. I checked your chart this morning and there were some new test 
results. Likely that's what Dr. Jamison wants to speak with you about." The woman 
answered as she began to unwind the bandage binding her shoulder wound.

	"You haven't told Jeffrey, have you?" Mary asked, realizing he hadn't said 
anything.

	"No." She admitted quietly. She'd been very surprised when her doctor had 
informed her that she was nearly four weeks pregnant. He said he didn't tell her until they 
were more confident that she wouldn't miscarry. She'd asked why he waited nearly a 
week to inform her and he told her he'd remembered how badly she'd taken the news of 
her first miscarriage. He hadn't wanted to tell her, only to have her lose this baby as well. 
He'd been quite surprised that she hadn't lost the baby, but assured her the longer her 
body heals without treating the fetus as a symptom, the more likely it is she'll carry to 
term.

	"You know it's funny," Hilary started, "When we settled in Pittsburgh I actually 
stopped using birth control. Back then, I think my reasoning was that if I had a baby, Jeff 
wouldn't leave me for the next ingenue to come along. I was beginning to think I couldn't 
get pregnant. Ow," she said as Mary pulled the bottom layer of bandage away from her 
shoulder wounds. "How does it look?"

	"Worse than it is, actually. Still seeping a bit, but you'll get that for a while." Mary 
explained. She slowly tried lifting Hilary's arm. "Let me know when that hurts."

	"Oh, now." Hilary responded almost immediately.

	"All right. It will hurt a bit because you haven't been able to move the arm at all. 
Probably next week we will start doing some exercises to loosen the wounds a bit and get 
them used to movement." Mary explained. "Once those are fairly healed then we can start 
the more intense exercises to work the muscle back into lifting your arm."

	"Mary." Hilary settled back into her previous conversation, "Why is it that after 
nearly four years of trying to get pregnant, I actually do during the two worst times of my 
life?"

	"God's idea of a practical joke." Mary replied with a smile.

	Hilary smiled wanly, "Well, I'm not laughing."

	"Actually, I think it is because you were trying to have a baby for all the wrong 
reasons. Once the reason became more right, you were able to conceive."

	"That makes sense."

	Doctor Jamison walked into the room interrupting the ladies as they spoke. "Good 
Morning, Hilary. How are we feeling today?"

	"A little better." She answered.

	He lay the chart he was carrying down on the table and sat on the edge of the bed. 
"Now, I am going to just check your shoulder here," he said as she felt his hands on her 
skin.

	She closed her eyes to a memory the feel of his hands invoked. She felt Mary take 
her other hand, "I'm right here, dear."

	"You all right?" the man asked, having noticed her stiffen slightly.

	"Yes, I'm sorry."

	"That's okay." He answered, "Now you are going to feel me pressing a bit on the 
skin surrounding the wounds, I'm just making sure there is no spreading infection. If you 
feel me touch your breast, that's all I am doing."

	She nodded slightly. "Okay."

	He finished his examination with a look at the cut on her chest. "That seems to be 
healing just fine. I'll probably take the stitches in the lower half of that out in a week or 
so." He explained. When he was done, he moved to the opposite side of the bed, so Mary 
could re-dress the wounds.

	"Everything looks good. The injuries on your shoulder seem to be healing 
themselves well." Dr. Jamison summarized, "I don't anticipate any problems and there 
doesn't seem to be any infection. Until we can get those healed further we won't know 
about the muscles. I'm still going to have your arm bound to your side here at the top," he 
pointed, "that will keep the cuts healing properly. Likely in the next week, we can just 
keep the arm in a sling."

	"What about the baby?" she asked.

	He smiled, "That is a stubborn kid."

	Mary laughed, "definitely a Singer," she remarked.

	Hilary chuckled, "We are a stubborn lot aren't we?"

	"I just got some tests back this morning and everything is fine. The 
natural antibodies have actually adjusted for the baby and seem to be protecting the 
fetus." He explained. "Had you not been as far along as you were, it may have been 
considered an infection and your body would have aborted it."

	"So--" Hilary asked, to reiterate for herself.

	"So you are two months pregnant, actually farther along than I initially thought, 
and everything is proceeding normally."

	"That's wonderful news." Hilary said, smiling. 

	"I think so." The man said as he stood, "Now I have other patients to see. I'll drop 
by tomorrow to see how you are doing." 

	"Thank you." She said as he left the room.

	"So, tell Jeff." Mary said having shut the door behind the leaving doctor and 
returning to Hilary's side.

	"I will. I just didn't want to get his hopes up and have them dashed." Hilary 
explained, "He doesn't need anything else to worry about."

	"Hilary, he will worry anyway." The woman said as she bent to retrieve 
something from the cart. "You know that husband of yours."

	"Yes, there are times I want to strangle him because of that tendency of his to 
worry half of the time over nothing." 

	Mary laughed at her comment then lay a box next to her. "Here, I brought you 
something. I thought you might be wanting to get out of that dreadful hospital gown." 

	She helped as Hilary lifted the lid and pulled the gown with matching bed coat out 
of the box. "Oh, Mary, it's lovely. Thank you."

	"Here, let me help you put it on." Mary said as she helped Hilary stand.



	In the cafeteria, Scott and Jeff talked as they ate their breakfast.

	"I'm sure everyone is beginning to realize the flu excuse is a cover." Jeff 
commented.

	"Actually yes." Scott answered. He hesitated a bit. "I take it you don't know."

	"Know what?"

	"It was in the paper Wednesday. I didn't think you'd told the press and I certainly 
know neither Maple or I did."

	"Damn." Jeff said harshly as he set his coffee cup down angrily. "Was everything 
in the paper?"

	"Well it didn't come out and say it in so many words, but yes it was obvious what 
reporter meant."

	"I'm surprised no one has bothered us here."

	"That's because I've stopped it at the station. Gertie has been instructed what to 
tell anyone that calls and no one is to be told exactly what room she's in here." Scott 
explained.

	"Thank you Scott."

	"Well, I knew neither of you needed to deal with the public on top of everything 
else. Bullshitting the public is what I do best." Scott said with a grin, "Figured I could 
really load it on in this case."

	Jeff laughed, "We appreciate it."

	"Do you think Hilary would mind visitors. Betty and the others have asked and I 
said I'd make sure it was okay with you."

	"Well, give her a couple more days to get more active. If I know Hilary, she won't 
want anyone to see her until she can make herself presentable."

	"Understood completely." Scott said with a grin, and looked at his watch, "Well, 
Mickey says its time for me to get back to the station." Both men stood, "Give Hil a hug 
for me and tell her it's way too quiet at the station without her."

	Jeff laughed, "I think I'll let you tell her that. I'd rather your goose be cooked than 
mine." He followed Scott to the door and thanked him, then went upstairs.


	When he walked into the room, Hilary was alone and sitting on the same chair she 
occupied earlier. He noticed she was wearing a white dressing gown with red trim and a 
matching red belt tied at the waist. She smiled when she saw him.

	"You look beautiful." He remarked as he walked to her and dropped a kiss on her 
forehead. He pulled another chair around and sat closely to her.

	"Thank you. Mary was kind enough to get this for me. The gown beneath it 
matches. It's a lovely set." Hilary said as she gazed at her husband and tried to hide a 
smile.

	"What?" Jeff asked, having recognized the look.

	"I have something to tell you." She hinted, her smile widening. "Dr. Jamison gave 
me some wonderful news today. News that we both needed at this time."

	Jeff pursed his eyebrows in confusion, "He thinks your shoulder will heal 
normally?" He guessed.

	"He isn't sure about that yet." She answered, "No. That wasn't the news." She took 
Jeff's hand and was surprised to feel her eyes tear up.

	"Darling what is it?" Jeff asked, now concerned when he saw her begin to cry.

	She laughed, trying to stop herself from crying. "Pumpkin, I'm two months 
pregnant."

	Jeff blinked, "What?" he asked with a smile.

	She nodded, "The doctor told me yesterday and I didn't want to tell you until I 
knew for sure that I wouldn't lose this baby. He told me today that according to test 
results he received this morning we have a very stubborn baby here that wants to be 
born." Her tears started fresh when she saw a tear track itself down Jeff's cheek.

	"Mittens," he said and gingerly pulled her into an embrace. "I can't believe this."

	"Me neither. It's a miracle I didn't lose the baby when--" she hesitated, "well, it's a 
miracle."

	Jeff pulled back, "Now you are going to do everything the doctor tells you right? 
Don't push yourself too hard." 

	She rolled her eyes and smiled, "I love you, Jeffrey Singer."

	"I love you too, Mrs. Singer." He repeated and kissed her.


	"So everyone knows now?" Hilary asked as she settled back into her bed 
that afternoon. Jeff had just informed her that an article about her attack had been in the 
paper.

	"Yes. I have no idea how the press knew. Someone here must have told them." 
Jeff said. "I've told Mary not to allow anyone that we don't know in here. She knows all 
our friends and acquaintances, so that shouldn't be too difficult."

	"Good."

	"Um-- Scott asked me if you wanted visitors. He said the gang has been asking to 
come see you." Jeff mentioned. "I told him to give it a couple days."

	"I'd like that, thank you Pumpkin." Hilary answered as she arranged her gown to 
be more comfortable when she lay. "Darling, could you reach closer to my feet? The tail 
of this gown in bunched up behind my knees."

	"Sure." Jeff said as he pulled the balled up material away from her knees. 
"There. Is that better?"

	"Much, thank you." She said as she lay back and closed her eyes to take a nap.

	Jeff sat on the edge of the bed and watched over her as she slept. He tenderly 
rubbed her arm, keeping her aware that he was there. She'd started having nightmares a 
few days ago. He worried that she'd toss too much and tear open the cut on her chest. He 
found that if he sat with her and kept in some sort of contact with her arm, she was able 
to sleep through the night.

	She didn't know, of course, that he hadn't had a full nights sleep in three days. 
He'd just cat nap here and there while the doctor was examining her.

	As he watched her, he couldn't help thinking that if he'd just left O'Malley's with 
her she wouldn't be in this bed. The thought hurt especially now that he knew she was 
carrying his child. His eyes began to water as he recalled the night he and Ron found her 
in that alley. He knew it would be a long time before that image would fade.

	Hearing a noise near the door, Jeff wiped his eyes and turned to the source.

	"Did I come at a bad time?" Mackie said quietly, having noticed Hilary was 
asleep.

	Jeff stood and walked to the man, "No, actually you came at a good time." He 
whispered, "Watching her sleep sometimes causes my mind to wander to places I'd rather 
it not go."

	"I brought these for her." Mackie said as he handed Jeff the vase of roses he held.

	"She'll enjoy them." Jeff replied, "let me put them on the table by the bed so she 
can see them."

	He walked back to the man and gestured for him to sit on the small couch, I don't 
want to leave her alone while she's sleeping. If she wakes, I want to be here."

	"How is she doing, Jeff?" The two men spoke softly, so they wouldn't disturb the 
sleeping woman.

	"Physically, she's healing. We aren't sure yet how her shoulder muscles were 
affected." Jeff explained, "The other--well, she's started having nightmares. She's still 
panicky about being touched, unless she's aware of where and when you are touching her. 
You know Hilary, she hides it with a brave face, but I can tell its eating her up inside." 
Jeff rubbed his face tiredly, "Mary said she is beginning to open up to her."

	"That's good." Mackie responded. He clapped Jeff on the knee, "How 'bout you? 
You doing all right?"

	Jeff gave a frustrating laugh and stood to walk out of the room. He leaned on his 
hand against the wall outside the hospital room. Mackie followed, sensing Jeff needed to 
talk.

	"Mackie every time I close my eyes I see her lying in a pool of her own blood in 
the mouth of that alley. I should have followed her out, dammit." Jeff said in a ragged 
voice. He stood straight and turned to lean his back against the wall. He crossed his arms 
and looked at the smaller man next to him, "You know what makes matters worse? She's 
pregnant." Jeff stopped when Mackie drew a surprised breath. "Yes, she's two months 
along. If I had known-- if WE had known that night, we'd have just eaten and gone home. 
We are just damn lucky she didn't lose this baby."

	"That's a bit of good news in all this isn't it?" Mackie said with a smile. He was 
glad to see Jeff return his smile.

	"Yes it is, but don't tell anyone." Jeff asked, "Let her do it. Maybe it will make her 
feel a little better to have good news for folks."

	The man smiled. "It's your news too."

	"It hasn't really sunk in." Jeff admitted, "I've been too preoccupied with Hilary's 
well-being, I haven't had time to sit down and really consider the fact that we're having a 
baby." He re-adjusted his stance, moving his weight to his other leg, "It's really unfair. I 
should be bouncing off walls right now thrilled at the prospect of being a father. Instead 
I'm in a hospital worrying about whether or not Hilary would wake screaming and injure 
herself further."

	"Life is unfair that way sometimes." Mackie said, "But it'll only get you down if 
you let it. Be happy, Jeff. In seven months you'll be holding a new life that you created 
with that incredibly strong woman in there and maybe all this will seem like a fading bad 
dream."

	Jeff took a long drawn out breath, "I know Mackie, but right now it's a 
nightmare that's all too real." He stood tall, "I should get back to Hilary."

	"I can come back later." Mackie offered, "I know Scott said to give it a couple 
days, but I wanted to see her."

	"It's all right Mack, she'll be glad to see you." Jeff assured. He walked around the 
man and quietly pushed open the door to her room. They stepped in and noticing she was 
still sleeping soundly, sat on the couch and talked quietly amongst themselves.

	"Have they caught the man yet?" Mackie asked.

	Jeff replied by shaking his head 'no'. "I talked to Officer Clarkson yesterday and 
he said they were able to get a possible description of a man who Joe said seemed out of 
place Saturday before last at O'Malley's, but without a way for Hilary to identify him, 
they can't be sure it's the same man. Other than that, they have no real leads." Jeff 
explained. "Clarkson said that the longer they go without catching him, the less likely 
they ever will."

	"How does that make you feel?" Mackie wondered.

	"Frustrated, angry, and in some ways a little glad I don't ever have to face him." 
Jeff admitted. "Because there are days when I think if I ever saw him, I'd tear him apart. 
And the thought that I could be capable of that scares the hell out of me." 



	Hilary stirred and woke. Jeff stood and walked over to her, sitting on the edge of 
the bed. "Did you sleep well, Mittens?"

	"Will the dreams ever stop," she asked in a quiet frightened voice.

	Jeff leaned across her body on his arm, and lifted his free hand to brush softly 
through her hair. "Did you have another dream, darling?"

	She nodded as much as she could and wiped tears from her eyes.


	Mackie watched as Jeff quietly comforted his wife. He fingered away a tear that 
formed in the corner of his eye.  He'd seen them hate, he'd seen them love; but he'd never 
seen them like this. No, he recalled, he had seen them like this once before. During the 
quarantine, when Jeff was having his nightmares.

	A few of those nights Jeff's thrashing woke him up, but, usually he feigned sleep 
when Hilary was there to give them privacy.  Some nights she'd just sit with him and rub 
his arm until it was nearly dawn, other nights she'd hold him and remind him that he was 
home.

	Now as he watched Jeff do the same thing, he realized just how necessary they 
were for each other. Silently he crept out of the room and left them alone. He could come 
back some other time to see Hilary.


	"What was the dream about, Hilary?" Jeff asked tenderly, hoping she'd at least 
talk about something. Out of the corner of his eye, he'd seen Mackie slip out of the room. 
He made himself a mental note to thank the man later.

	She closed her eyes, "I was walking with a baby and a man came up to us. His 
face was hidden, all I could really see were his hands. He tried to take her away from me, 
but I fought with him." Her soft crying became harder as she spoke, "He wasn't taking 
our baby." Jeff carefully gathered her into his arms and let her cry against his shoulder. "I 
wasn't going to let him take our baby." she repeated over and over.

	Jeff cradled her against his body, the arm around her back protecting her injuries. 
He held her head against his shoulder, gently rubbing his fingers against her hair. "No 
one is taking our baby, Mittens," he assured her quietly, squeezing his eyes against his 
own tears, "I'll make sure that never happens." 

	"You will?" Her voice, so tiny and full of pain was nearly his undoing.

	"Mittens, I promise you that nothing or no-one will ever hurt you or our baby 
again." Jeff assured her with a voice more emotional than he'd intended. She began to sob 
harder, which in turn caused him to give in to his feelings and together they finally 
excised a bit of the shared pain.


	It had been almost a month, Hilary's stitches finally were out of her shoulder and 
she was finally able to move about the hospital room fairly free of any major pain. Her 
arm was still in the sling, but, with Jeff's help she was doing her daily exercises. It still 
hurt like the proverbial devil, but she was nearly able to lift the arm past her chest.

	She was bound and determined to get her arm above her shoulder. She wanted to 
be able to do the simple things, such as reach the shelves over the sink in the green room, 
hold a script at arms length for a long period of time. There were other things she wanted 
to be able to do as well, things more precious to her than the everyday things. She wanted 
to wrap her arms around her husband's neck, to hold him, to even dance with him. Most 
importantly, she needed to be able to hold their baby.

	She stared out the window and let her thoughts drift to the visit from Jim Clarkson 
that she and Jeff had had that morning. The police had still not caught her attacker and 
after this long, they doubted they ever would. She shivered involuntarily at the thought 
that he was still out there somewhere on the street below her. Seeing a man walk into a 
store across the way, she moved back from the window. He could be anyone out there.

	She turned her attention to the flowers that graced the table. Jeff made sure that 
every day there was a fresh dozen of red roses. Each day held a new endearment on the 
card. Today's read, "Je t'aime, ma cherie". He was unaware, but as the flowers themselves 
died, Hilary kept each card. Some nights when she couldn't sleep she'd pull them out of 
the tiny drawer near her bed and read them.

	She sat in the chair at the table, removed the sling and with her right arm slowly 
but determinedly reached to turn on the radio that sat near the wall. She grimaced as her 
shoulder muscles protested, but ignored the pain. She turned the volume control until she 
had it at a comfortable level and then sat straight. She smiled, proud of her achievement.

	Hilary thought as she listened, it was about time Sam Dane had his voice back. 
Jeff had been very hesitant to leave her, but she insisted. WENN needed at least one of 
them and she was well enough that she could be alone for the day.

	As she listened to Jeff's voice she closed her eyes and tried to picture him at work, 
script in hand. Another voice crept into her thoughts as sometimes it did. The raspy 
whispered sound of the man who attacked her. She took a breath and tried to shake off 
the memory. She concentrated on the sound of her husband's voice and tried to replace 
the bad memories with good ones.

	She thought of times when the sound of Jeff's voice meant something. The many 
times he'd proposed, Hilary remembered with a laugh. The day she'd finally accepted; the 
joy in his eyes when he'd realized that her answer of yes was really her answer. No tricks 
that time, no insulting retorts, just an honest and simple yes.

	They had been laying in bed after an impulsive love making session when he'd 
turned to her and simply asked, "Please let me back in." Her reply had been equally 
simple. "Don't hurt me again."  No other words had been spoken for the rest of that night, 
and two weeks later they were married by a justice of the peace in a small ceremony in 
the green room.

	She pulled herself out of the memory and back into the present. Sam Dane was 
nearly over and Jeff would be back in another couple of hours. No amount of talking 
would convince him to work a full day. He just worked the afternoon shows, with the 
exception of Hands Of Time. He'd refused to do that show without her. So she had to 
listen to Maple and Scott. They weren't bad, but she needed to talk to Maple again about 
Elizabeth's accent. She was getting closer, Hilary thought.

	Maple had been a godsend through all this. Hilary had to admit that she was 
beginning to consider her to be a close friend. There were days when she had to talk to 
someone, and Jeff just wouldn't do. She'd call Maple, and they would throw Jeff out of 
the room for a while and sit and talk.

	Maple would bring chocolate, cokes and assorted other foods she probably didn't 
need to be feeding herself. They would laugh, cry, and generally have a good time. Hilary 
had found that they really did have a lot in common. Sure, they had come from totally 
different backgrounds, but, they'd both been run through life the hard way and still had 
come out 'on top of the game' as Maple had put it.

	Eugenia had been another surprising ear. Hilary found she could actually open up 
further to the gentle woman that she could even with Maple. It had been Eugenia to 
whom she finally told the details of her attack. The woman just sat with her, held her, and 
let her cry as she spoke. She assured her that it hadn't been her fault, that no one would 
judge her.

	Hilary wasn't sure about that. Gertie had not come to visit her at all, not that she'd 
expected it. There certainly was no love lost between them. Betty had visited a couple 
times, but seemed uncomfortable, like she didn't know what to say.

	But most insulting, and the one that sent Jeffrey through the roof, was a small 
mention in Hedda Hopper's last column that insinuated that the baby she was carrying 
was her attacker's. Jeff had called her office and gave her a few choice words and set her 
straight. She apologized and said she'd print a retraction, but none had ever appeared. 

	She assured Jeff that once the baby was born people would do the math, but she 
did see how the connection could have been made. She worried about other people closer 
to them making that assumption. It *had* been in the paper, that doubt was now in the 
public's mind.

	Hilary lay her hand on her still flat abdomen, "It's okay little one, your mommy 
and daddy know and that's all that matters," she quietly spoke.

	Her phone rang, and Hilary slowly walked to pick it up. 

	"Hi darling, I just wanted to call and see how you are doing."

	"I'm all right, Jeffrey. Just reflecting on things." She answered him.

	"You sure you're all right? I can come back." He replied, concern in his voice.

	She smiled, "No pumpkin, I've enjoyed being by myself today. You just do what 
you need to do there and then come back."

	"You're sure?"

	She knew he was fishing for confirmation that she needed him still. These last 
few weeks have been hard on him too. An idea began to form in her mind. "I'll tell you 
what, on your way back here why don't you stop by home and put on a nice suit."

	"Why?" he asked, confused.

	"Don't ask why, darling, just do it." She answered. Out of the background, she 
heard Mackie announce the beginning of Rance Shiloh. "Um . . . Pumpkin, don't you 
have to be on the air now?"

	"Oh hell! I love you, bye." He hung up the phone abruptly. Within a few seconds 
she heard shuffling on the radio, then a slightly out of breath Rance read his first line. She 
hung up the receiver, and laughed. "I love you too ... my silly boy."

	After tightening her robe and fingering through her hair to make it look somewhat 
decent, Hilary made her way to the nurses station. Having checked the time, she knew 
Mary was on duty.

	"Hi, Miss Booth. Is there anything you need?" One of the younger women 
asked.

	"No, thanks Ellen. Is Mary around?" she answered. Ellen was a sweet girl, 
probably in her late twenties. She'd been nearly as helpful as Mary in her recovery. Hilary 
had also noticed with amusement that the young woman had a slight crush on Jeffrey. 
She fell over herself to be of help when Jeff was there.

	Rather than sharply remind Ellen that he was taken, as she would normally have 
done, Hilary said nothing. She recognized a harmless crush when she saw one, and 
finally after all this time she felt secure enough to know that Jeff would never leave her 
again. Then, there is also the threat that she'd kill him and spread pieces of his body from 
here to Timbuktu.

	"No, sorry. She won't be in for another hour. She said she was conserving gas and 
waiting for a taxi," Ellen explained.

	"All right then. Maybe you can help me," Hilary offered.

	Ellen smiled, "Sure."

	"I am planning a nice evening for Jeff and I wondered if you could help me with 
some things."

	"Ooh, romantic evenings are my specialty. Just ask my boyfriend," Ellen stood 
and walked around the large counter, "What do you want me to help you with?"

	Hilary laughed at the woman's excitement. She let Ellen lead her back into her 
hospital room, talking as they walked. "Well, I could use some real food. Maybe 
something from Bella's?"

	"Okay." Ellen said, "Let me know what you want, and I can send a driver over to 
pick it up." Ellen observed the room, "We could probably fold up Mr. Singer's cot and 
put it against the wall to bring in a table. I could dig one up from somewhere." She 
pointed to Hilary, "You'll need candles."

	"--candles." Hilary said at the same time Ellen mentioned them. "And some 
privacy."

	Ellen smiled, "My shift ends at midnight, Cinderella. That's as far as I can get you 
privacy-wise in this castle." 

	Hilary laughed and thanked Ellen for her help in moving the large heavy things. 
"Now go away so I can get myself ready."

      "Okay." Ellen said, "If you need any help with anything let me know," she offered. 
Stopping in the doorway she turned, "Oh, and I'll phone you when the food arrives."

      "Thank you." Hilary responded, and as the young nurse left walked to the drawer to 
choose a dressier gown. She may be in a hospital, but she wasn't going to look like hell 
on a 'date' with her husband.

      She dug through the different gown sets that Jeff had brought from home and 
ultimately settled on the one Mary had bought her. It was a pearl white satin Greek styled 
gown with a band of red separating the bodice from the skirt.  It looked more like an 
evening gown rather than a nightgown. The robe that went over it was equally dressy. It 
was of the same satin material, though used as an underlining for a soft sheer lace that 
was gathered at the waistline and belted with red satin.

      Picking up the gown, she walked into the bathroom and began to change. She turned 
on the light and noticed her reflection. It was getting easier to look at her own face in the 
mirror. Those first couple weeks when she needed to come in here, she left the light off. 
She hadn't wanted to see the visible evidence of what he'd done to her.

      Now she wanted to see, she was ready. The bruises were gone, but the memory 
lingered. Her face was a little pale, Hilary thought as she rubbed her hand across the 
cheek where the man had hit her.

      She untied the belt on the worn robe she wore and slipped it off her 
shoulders. She drew the wide straps of the gown down her arms and let it fall to the floor. 
Hilary now stood in front of the mirror nude with the exception of her panties.

      The cut on her chest had for the most part healed. It was still pink, especially near the 
bottom of her ribcage where it had been stitched. She traced the pink areas with her 
fingers. So close to the baby, she thought, so close.  She started to move her right hand 
over her stomach, but winced as the pain took hold. She closed her eyes and squelched 
the frustration that gripped her every time she tried to do a simple task and felt pain. 
"Damn him!"

      Hilary glanced at her shoulder wounds and with a cold sickening realization, noticed 
how close the first one was to her throat. If her head had been turned or her neck had 
been angled just barely an inch--"stop it, Hilary," she told herself, "There are enough 
horrible images, you don't need to add ones that don't exist!"

      Shaking the thoughts off as much as the pain would allow, Hilary touched the healing 
stab wounds and wondered how badly they would scar.  She'd always been proud of her 
appearance; she worked very hard to keep her skin flawless. But now--.  Most of her 
evening gowns were, if not strapless, sleeveless. She'd have to replace all her evening 
wear.

      Would Jeffrey look at her differently?  She knew that he loved her body. He loved to 
touch her. Dimly she noticed she was thinking in past tense. Would she be able to let him 
touch her? Make love to her? She couldn't stand the thought of losing the physical 
closeness.  She needed his touch as much as she needed air.

      She gently skimmed her left hand over her body. Trying to fight the memory flashes 
it caused. She had to get re-accustomed to even touching herself. She drew the hand over 
her breast ignoring the memories.  Think of Jeffrey, she told herself, think of what it felt 
like when he caressed you.

     The most vivid part of her attacker that she remembered, that she kept seeing in 
dreams, were his hands. Even now as she moved over her own body, she couldn't keep 
the thought of his hands roughly pawing at her at bay.  She closed her eyes and 
concentrated on her husband's hands.

      He had large hands like her attacker did, but that was where the similarities ended. 
Jeffrey's hands were delicate, his fingers long and slender. He had a tender touch.  She 
tried to remember the feel of his fingertips trailing over her collar bone. The way he 
could hold her breasts in the palms of his hands and tease her nipples with his thumbs.

      She closed her eyes and let herself get lost in the fantasy, disallowing any bad 
memories to filter through. She needed desperately to know that Jeffrey could touch her 
in those ways again. As she fantasized, Hilary moved her arms and a shot of pain rudely 
pulled her back into the present. "Damn." She mumbled.

     She gave up on the direction her thoughts had taken and as quickly as she could 
manage, put the clean dressier gown and robe on.  She picked up the brush to run through 
her hair when she caught the flush on her skin in the reflection. She smiled at the 
knowledge that thoughts of sex with Jeff could still arouse her. Honestly, that meant more 
than regaining full use of her right arm.

      Brushing her hair with her left arm was awkward, and Hilary wanted badly to look 
good tonight for Jeff. She decided to call Ellen and ask if she'd help. 

      Ellen had quickly agreed and soon had her hair neatly styled. She also said that the 
driver had gone to get the food and would be back at any moment.  Hilary looked at the 
time and realized that Jeff himself was probably on his way.  Ellen left promising she'd 
send the food in as soon as it arrived.

     Hilary checked the room, wanting everything to be perfect. The knock on the door 
caused her to jump, but she realized it was probably the food. She opened it and let the 
man in. He was loaded down with bags, and she offered to take what she could in only 
one arm. She showed him the table and he set his cargo down.

     As he set up the dishes, Hilary abruptly realized that she'd never seen him before and 
suddenly felt self conscious and a little scared. She backed away slightly then chided 
herself. *Stop it Hilary, you can't react this way to every strange man you see!*

      "Is that all you needed, Ma'am?" he spoke, startling her.

      "Huh ... uh ... yes. Yes, I'm sorry." She stammered, "That is plenty, thank you for 
going to the trouble."

      "It's no problem, all a part of my job." He nodded slightly and left the room.

      She took a second to recover herself, before lighting the candles and making sure 
everything looked all right.  She took another glance at her appearance in the mirror and 
smiled. Perfect.

      She briefly thought that she should be wearing her sling, but, no. She wanted no 
reminders of where she was, or why, tonight. As she started to sit in the chair by the 
window, she heard Jeff's two knock rapping at the door before he entered.  She stood 
straight and waited.

      He walked to the table, noticing the set up and the food. He looked up at her and 
smiled. "You're beautiful."  He walked around the table to get closer to her.

      "Do you still think so," she whispered, more of her fear coming out then she'd 
intended.

      He cupped her chin, "Oh Mittens, you'll always be beautiful to me."

      She lifted her left arm to her shoulder, "Even with--"

      "Yes darling, even with the scars." He assured, "They tell me that you are alive."

      "But you haven't seen them." She said, "They'll be a constant reminder."

      "I love you Hilary." Jeff assured, "No amount of anything will change that." He 
leaned slightly and kissed her. When she didn't pull away, he deepened the kiss savoring 
the taste of her that he'd missed. He fought back the tears of joy when he felt her wrap her 
left arm around his shoulder, and slowly ease her right around his waist.  He reluctantly 
broke the kiss and embraced her tightly. "We'll get through this, sweetheart," he promised 
her, "I know that with certainty."

      She pulled away, flinching at the painful sensation it caused.

      Jeff took her hands in his and with a grin let the moment pass for the time being. "I 
smell food. Why don't we eat it before they realize we have a meal that isn't bland."

      Hilary laughed and let him seat her, grateful for the diversion. He helped her uncover 
her meal, then sat and uncovered his own dish. They ate, discussing everyday things and 
joking about names for the baby.  Once the meal was finished Jeff cleared the dishes, 
putting them back into the bags so he could carry them down to the nurses station and let 
Ellen take care of them. While he was there, Ellen informed him that she'd talked to Mary 
who'd arrived an hour late, and bought them the rest of the night for privacy. He thanked 
her and went back to the room.

      When he returned and closed the door, Hilary was standing near the window with her 
back to him. He noticed that she'd removed the robe and only wore the gown. He realized 
that this was the first time he'd seen her in only the gown from this set.  "Darling?" He 
questioned softly, noticing that she jumped at the sound of his voice.

      She turned slowly, "I wanted you to see." She nudged the strap off her shoulder, 
taking care to keep it from falling too far.

      "Are you sure," he asked, not stepping closer. He advanced carefully when she 
nodded.  He knew that she was completely opening her vulnerabilities to him, something 
she rarely did even in normal situations. It was then that he understood just how 
completely she trusted him and how important his acceptance was to her. He stopped just 
in front of her, his eyes never leaving hers. 

      She took his hand in hers, the fallen strap now free fell further exposing her right 
breast. She moved the sore arm halfheartedly to hold the material, but at this point she 
didn't care.  He'd seen her before and all she wanted to know was that he wouldn't turn 
away from her.  She lay his hand on her shoulder and with her eyes pleaded with him to 
look.

      Jeff looked at her scars, careful to keep his expression neutral.  She had nothing to 
worry about, he knew, but he wanted to let her know.  He let his thumb wander across the 
still pink wounds. He drew his hand closer to her neck softly tracing the hollow of her 
throat. He knew how close he'd come to losing her for good. He looked back to her face 
and saw that she was silently crying. He brushed the tears away and kissed her forehead.

      She took the hand from her cheek into hers placed a kiss on his palm. "Have I ever 
told you how much I love your hands," she said quietly.  She bent her right arm at the 
elbow so she could more easily cover the hand she held. She sandwiched his hand 
straight between hers, "They are so tender and loving." He moved his other hand to cover 
hers and she looked into his eyes, "And gentle when you touch me."  She saw all the love 
and need and trust she ever wanted in his eyes just then. She decided to take it one step 
further, giving in to what they both needed, "Pumpkin, I want you to touch me. Nothing 
more, I don't think I'm ready for that," she clarified, "I just need to know that I can still let 
you hold me."

      Jeff closed his eyes to the onslaught of emotions he was suddenly feeling. "Mittens, 
you have no idea what this means to me."

      "Yes I do, my love."  She shrugged completely out of the gown and let the satin pool 
around her feet, "Yes I do."

      Jeff bent to pick her up and carried her to the bed. He covered her and removed his 
own clothing with the exception, like her, of his briefs.  He wanted her to know in that 
way, that he would abide by the boundaries she had set.  He slid under the covers and 
gathered her into his arms, her back against his chest.

      He whispered in her ear, "I won't do anything unless you want it. Just holding you 
against me like this is enough."

      "I want to be able to see your face." She admitted quietly.

      "All right," Jeff said. He left the bed, walked around and got back into 
it, facing her. "There. Is that better?"

      She nodded, "Would you hold me," she asked, "Just hold me, right now."

      He moved up slightly and pulled her against him, letting her head fit into the crook of 
his neck. He wrapped his legs through hers, puling her as close to him as he could. "You 
know, they definitely didn't make these beds for two people." He deadpanned and smiled 
when she laughed.

      After a few moments of comfortable silence, Hilary rolled to her back and moved 
over so Jeff had more room on his side. "Touch me," she implored.

      "Where," he asked, letting her keep control.

      "Anywhere, everywhere." She held his gaze and said, "I need to be able to replace 
bad memories with good. Memories of his hands, with yours."

      "If that's what you want." Jeff said and leaned to press a kiss against her lips. He 
moved his hand over her collar bone, and over her shoulders. Feeling her tense when he 
passed over the scars, he stopped, "Are you all right?"

      "Yes," she assured through tears, "Please don't stop."

      "Sweetheart if-- you'll tell me if it becomes too much, won't you?" he asked, hoping 
she wasn't forcing herself to endure his touch because she felt that he needed it. "I am 
doing this for you, Hilary. You're not doing it for me."

      "I'm okay Jeffrey," she reassured, "It isn't going to be easy, but I am doing this for 
both of us." She curled her arm around his shoulder blade. "I will let you know if the 
wrong memory surfaces, then you can help replace it."

      Jeff nodded and wiped a stray tear away from her cheek. Gently, he eased back into 
touching her. He let his fingers drift down the valley between her breasts and traced the 
long scar there. He moved a hand to gently cover her breast and paused when she 
stiffened. "Hon?"

      "Just caress me the way you always do." She requested.

      He lay his head against hers, "I love you, Hilary." Knowing she needed to hear 
endearments as well. He continued his tender ministrations across her upper body. 
Eliciting, he was glad to hear, a sigh from her lips every so often.

      Growing bolder as she grew more aroused, he let his hand drift downwards toward 
the elastic band of her panties. Barely slipping his fingers beneath, he asked, "Is this 
okay?"

      "Yes." She replied, desire heavy in her voice.  "Jeffrey, I want more than your hands."

      He kissed her deeply and then softly answered, "Not tonight, not here." He saw the 
disappointment in her eyes, but also he saw understanding.  He slid his hand further 
beneath the band and watched her face as he drew his middle finger through the folds of 
the sensitive skin. She closed her eyes and her brows briefly furrowed as he assumed 
another memory crossed into mind. He whispered loving words to her as he slowly 
brought her to climax.

      She threw her head back and quietly called his name as the orgasm worked through 
her body. He didn't stop tormenting her with his finger until he was certain the moment 
had completely passed.

      She opened her eyes and looked at him, surprised to see tears. "Thank you."

      "For what," he questioned.

      "For saying no."

      "Darling I would give you the moon, but only when it was appropriate." Jeff 
responded, "I knew you weren't ready and it was just your desire speaking."

      She rolled and cuddled close to him, "We're going to be all right. All three of us."

	 After some moments of silent reflection, she giggled. "We should probably get 
dressed. I wouldn't want to shock the nurses." 

      Jeff chuckled and left the bed long enough to hand Hilary her gown. He helped her 
put it on, then said, "I'll be back in a minute. I want to take a shower and get my night 
clothes on." He kissed her once again and walked into the bathroom.

      Hilary lay and thought over the evening. She was very glad that she'd been able to let 
Jeff love her like that. When flashes of her attack had appeared, she looked at him and 
concentrated on what his hands were doing. It helped. She knew then that they could 
recapture at least some of their sexual relationship.


	Jeff leaned against the bathroom door. Saying 'no' to her had been the hardest 
thing he'd ever done, but, he knew it wouldn't have been right. Not in a hospital and not 
this soon. He was afraid she'd pushed herself too far already, but seeing the look of want 
for him in her eyes had always been his undoing.  Maybe they were on their way to again 
finding, not only their relationship, but the peace of mind she needed.

	He turned on the shower and stood under the warm water, letting it drown the 
ardor he still felt.  He washed, dried, and put on his pajamas. Once he felt ready to rejoin 
her he left the bathroom.

	He walked to the wall and started to unfold the cot he'd been sleeping on when 
Hilary spoke up, "Please sleep with me."

	"Is there room, miss bed hog," he asked using one of their old road jokes.  So 
adopted because nine times out of ten in a train or a single bed room, he ended up in the 
floor.

	She laughed, "I will make room for you."

	He walked over to the bed and slid in again, in front of her where she could see 
him. He kissed her, told her he loved her and gathered her closely.  "Go to sleep now, 
Mittens."  He watched over her until he was sure she'd gone to sleep. Jeff then closed his 
own eyes and went to sleep with the scent of her hair in every breath he took. For the first 
time in over a month, they both slept peacefully.


     Two days later, Hilary lounged in her hospital bed reading a magazine and listening to 
the radio.  She laughed when Mackie flubbed a line and Maple made it worse by not 
catching his mistake and read her next line flawlessly. Which made his mistake stick out 
all the more.

      She looked up when she heard someone walk into her room. Dr. Jamison walked in 
and greeted her.  "Hi Doc." She said happily, "How are we doing today?"

      "Well enough that I think I can spring you from this joint." He answered as he walked 
to her bedside.  "Let me take one last look at your shoulder."

      "Ah, home," she said as the doctor checked her healing wounds, "I remember home. 
Vaguely."

      The man laughed. "Let me see you lift your arm to the side."

      She lifted as far as she could before the pain was too much. "Almost above my ribs. 
Getting better."

      "Yes it is." He agreed, "now try to the front."

      Hilary brought the arm to her front and tried lifting. The pain always came in sooner 
and she couldn't tolerate it past her stomach. "That's the hardest part."

      "Just keep doing your exercises and maybe we can get that muscle loosened back up." 
He told her. "I still can't guarantee complete usage." He sat on the edge of the bed and 
explained, "See in order to repair the damaged muscle tissue we had to lose a little bit, so 
it's shorter. The only way to rebuild the tissue is to keep flexing it and using it."

      "I understand," she replied, "I just--" A brief flash of sadness crossed her features, 
"Well, I'll adjust."
The doctor smiled, understanding. "As for the little one, I see no complications."

     "Wonderful." Hilary smiled proudly, "Can I go home now?"

     "I don't see why not. I do want to see you in my office in a couple weeks. Just to check 
to see how you are doing." Dr. Jamison stood and started for the door, "Why don't you 
call your husband, have him come pick you up and I'll send a nurse in to get you ready."

     "Thank you, for everything Doctor." Hilary sincerely said, "I know Jeffrey would say 
the same."

     He smiled, "You just take care of yourself. I'll send Mary in." He left the room leaving 
Hilary alone to begin packing.

     The first thing she did was get dressed. Jeff had brought one of her dresses from 
home, knowing she'd be released soon. He had also been slowly taking things she no 
longer needed home.

     Once she finished dressing, she put on the sling. Dr. Jamison had told her that he still 
wanted her to wear it until the pain completely was gone. He didn't want her to 
accidentally tear the healing muscle by using the arm without thinking.

     Once she had the remaining clothes packed in her suitcase, she moved to the phone to 
call Jeff.  As she picked up the receiver she had a thought. She could easily call a taxi and 
have him drive her to WENN. That way Jeff wouldn't be interrupted at work. Plus, she 
really wanted to prove to herself that she could do things on her own.

     She phoned for a cab and then waited for Mary.

     "I hear you've been set free." Mary said as she opened the door.

     "Yes." Hilary replied enjoying the thought. "It's time for me to rejoin the 
land of the living."

     "Is Jeffrey on his way?"

     "No Mary, I called a cab. I need to do this myself." Hilary explained while closing her 
suitcase.

     "Are you sure, dear?" The older woman asked.

     "I'm positive." Hilary assured, "Don't call Jeff, please. I want to 
surprise him."

     "I won't." Mary looked around the room, "Do you have everything?"

     Hilary glanced the room over, "Looks like it. Jeff took the flowers and extra things 
home yesterday." She lifted the closed suitcase off the bed, "It's just me and my suitcase."

     Mary walked her down to the discharge area and Hilary filled out and signed the 
necessary papers. Seeing the cab, Hilary walked into the bright warm late April sun. She 
took a large breath of the first fresh air she'd felt in over a month. The cab driver opened 
the door for her and she turned, "Thank you Mary. I don't know what we'd have done 
without you in our lives."

     "You don't think about that, sweetie." Mary hugged her. "Now you get going. I'll drop 
by tomorrow to see how you are doing."

     After hugging the woman, Hilary stepped into the cab and sat. She told the driver 
where to go and soon they were on their way. The farther they got from the safe haven of 
the hospital, the more nervous Hilary became.  *You can do this* She took deep calming 
breaths and contented herself to watching the road pass by.

     Soon they'd arrived. The driver parked the cab and walked around to open her door for 
her. She jumped slightly as the whoosh of air hit her when the door was abruptly opened. 
She sat for a second, chiding herself. The driver extended his hand to help her from the 
vehicle. Hesitantly she crossed her left arm across herself and took his hand. He gently 
helped her from the car, handed her the suitcase and closed the door behind her.

     "Put it on our tab." Hilary explained, "The name is Singer."

     The driver nodded, tipped his hat and left her on the curb. She stood and stared up at 
the building. Several people passed her on the street, and she felt out of place. A few men 
tipped their hats as they passed, the women nodded a polite greeting. Gathering the 
courage to go inside, she started walking across what to her seemed like a sea of 
strangers.

     Keeping her mind on the goal of getting inside the building, Hilary accidentally 
bumped into an older man. She turned sharply at the sudden jolt on her side. Seeing the 
agitated look on the man's face, she quickly apologized. He grumped an acceptance, told 
her to watch where she was going and moved on.

     Finally across the sidewalk, she realized the dilemma of how to pull open the door 
with one arm in a sling and one holding a suitcase. Seeing her problem, someone on the 
inside of the building opened it for her.

     "It's good to see you Miss Booth," The front receptionist said as Hilary walked past 
the girl. "Can I help you to the elevator?"

     "No, no thank you. I can manage." She walked through the lobby, noting that people 
stopped to look at her. Most of these people she'd seen daily, now some looked at her 
with sympathy, some with curiosity or scorn. A few had turned away from her in disgust. 
Intending to ignore the busybodies, she pushed the button on the elevator.

     As she stood waiting, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. 
Turning slowly, she could see no one. It must be her fear, she thought.

     The doors slid open and she stepped in, followed by two men and a woman. They 
each told the operator what floor they were going to, and Hilary stepped into the corner 
where she could see everyone. The ride was completed in silence, the woman leaving two 
floors before hers.

     Now she was alone in a closed space with three men. She reminded herself over and 
over that it was just two more floors.

     "--looks heavy." Hilary started when she realized one of the men was talking to her. 
"Oh, no. It's just clothes, I can manage thank you." She politely refused.

     The car opened on her floor and Hilary stepped out quickly. She took a congratulatory 
breath. "I did it." She laughed, "I did it!"  She squared her shoulders, and walked to the 
front door of the station. She set the suitcase down and pulled open the door. Propping it 
open with her foot, she picked the case back up and walked inside.

     "Hilary!" The surprised Gertie said, "What are you doing here?"

     "I work here." She retorted.

     "Aren't you supposed to be in the hospital?"

     "I was released today." She leaned slightly, "They said I was cured." She moved the 
slinged arm a little, "Well, mostly cured. Jeffrey on the air?"

     "You know he is." Gertie answered with a sharp tinge in her voice.

     Furrowing her brow, Hilary shrugged the comment off and walked down to the green 
room.

     Jeff glanced up from his script to see Hilary enter the room across the hall. "I'll be 
right back, uh, Captain." He handed Mackie the loose papers and left the studio.

     He pushed through the doors to see Hilary and Maple hugging. "Why didn't you call 
me?" he asked.

     Hilary turned, "I wanted to do it myself. To prove that I could."

     Jeff pulled her into his arms, "And you did okay?"

     "I did okay." She repeated.


     That night, after the cab dropped them off in their driveway, Hilary stood and stared 
down the street toward O'Malley's. She felt as though she was being pulled in that 
direction. "We should stop in on Joe and Rosie," she whispered.

     "No," Jeff took her arm and gently pulled toward the house. "Neither one of us is 
ready for that trip yet. Come on into the house."

     She let him lead her to the front door and waited while he unlocked and opened it.  
Hilary walked in and looked around. "Everything is just how I left it."

     "Why wouldn't it be?" Jeff asked, tossing her suitcase onto the couch.

     "I don't know. It just seems like a different person lived here." She 
stepped farther in, "One who wasn't afraid of anything."

     Jeff wrapped his arms around her, "You are not a different person, Hilary. You are the 
same controlling, conniving, bewitching and beautiful woman I've always been married 
to."

     "Maybe." She whispered and lay her head against his shoulder.


     The first two weeks home for Hilary were eventful. She couldn't sleep at all for the 
first few nights. She had to re-accustom herself to the usual sounds and ticks of the house 
at night. Her nightmares grew vicious again. The most recurring theme was the man 
trying to steal her baby. Some nights she was able to get away from him and other's . . . 
well, those were the worst.

     She'd learned the hard way that she would never look at a knife the same way again.  
A steak knife. That's all it was, a simple steak knife. But to her it was alive and wanted to 
kill her.

     The day after she'd been released from the hospital, they had sat down to dinner in the 
kitchen. Jeff handed her the plate and set the knife down on the table. It still had a little 
momentum left and had spun on the edge of the handle. It stopped, facing her. Really no 
harm was meant, that's just how it stopped.

     She leapt from the table as if it were a snake ready to strike. Panic stricken and 
screaming, she backed into the corner by the pantry door. Jeff was at her side in seconds. 
Trying to calm her down, he promised that he'd remove the knife, any knife he could 
find. 

     She clawed desperately at him, lost in a flashback, begging that he not hurt her.  He 
reminded her where she was and who he was, but she was lost in her panic. Wanting to 
settle her before she hurt herself or the baby, Jeff grabbed the glass of cold water that he'd 
poured for her to drink with dinner. He threw the water into her face, hoping it would 
snap her out of it. He shouted her name again until finally she stopped. She looked at him 
and said his name hesitantly, like she didn't quite recognize him.

     He carefully helped her to her feet, took her into the dining room and set her into the 
closest chair. Assuring her she was safe and that he wasn't going to hurt her, he knelt next 
to her and rubbed her arm. She finally snapped into coherence and collapsed into his 
arms.  He held her tightly, letting her cry out the fear.  Tenderly he offered soothing 
words until she cried herself to sleep.

     Jeff picked her up, careful not to wake her and carried her upstairs to bed.  After 
making sure she was covered and asleep, he left the room leaving the bathroom light on 
and the door cracked in case she woke. As he walked into the kitchen and began to clear 
away the forgotten dinner, Jeff picked up the steak knife and in a fit of rage threw it with 
all his strength. The blade imbedded itself into the wood panel of the back door. He sank 
sobbing into her empty chair feeling as though everything had spun out of control.

     A week later, she realized that she couldn't do her job. She'd been cleared to return to 
work full time and was looking forward to getting back on the air. She walked into the 
studio, opened her mouth and found she couldn't speak. She felt a sudden crippling fear 
that her unknown attacker would hear her, realize that he hadn't killed her, and try again. 
Her ability to breath left her and she grabbed at Jeff who stood at her left. He saw her 
panic and rushed her out of the studio and into the hall.

     Away from the closed room, she took a large breath. She told Jeff she needed air and 
he rushed her to the fire escape out of the right green room window. Once she was able to 
breath normally again, she told Jeff what had happened. Then she got angry.


     She stormed over Jeff and back into the green room in a fury. She poured out all the 
anger and frustration that she'd been feeling since her attack.

     Jeff tried to calm her down, remind her where she was at, but she heard none of his 
pleas.

     "No! He has taken away my right to privacy, my peace of mind," she walked closer to 
Jeff. Touching his face, she said softer, "my ability to make love to you." Blinking away 
tears, she stepped back slightly, "He is -NOT- taking my career too!"

     "Hilary," Jeff said again, tenderness in his voice.

     "I want my life back." She said, "I want the life that we would have had. Not worrying 
over shadows, and noises, and little old ladies who think this was all my fault." She 
stepped into Jeff's embrace, "I just want my life back."


     As the months and her pregnancy progressed, Hilary had learned to ignore the 
accusatory stares and the whispered gossip and rumors surrounding her every movement. 
She had even on occasion heard Gertie on the phone whispering to friends. That had hurt. 
While she and the woman hadn't exactly been close, she thought she at least knew her 
well enough to understand. 
She was sleeping better; the nightmares had faded some, but not completely and they 
were no less vivid when she did have them.  She had not had another panic attack since 
the steak knife incident. Part of that was due to the fact that Jeff had cleared both the 
house and the station of any knife she might happen to run across.  As she thought back, 
she realized that she hadn't seen so much as a butter knife since that night.

     Her shoulder and arm were slowly getting better. The pain was nearly gone and she 
was able to lift the arm out to the side at almost shoulder height. To the front, she could 
lift past her ribs before the tightness made it impossible. Still that was with nothing in her 
hand. She doubted if she could hold a script for long, even if she could bring herself to 
acting again.

     That's what hurt her the most.  No matter how much she tried, she just couldn't find 
her voice in front of a microphone or on a stage. The thought of a live audience was the 
worst. Just from standing on a stage in an empty theatre, her mind conjured up a 
multitude of images. The worst being an entire audience of leering men throwing knives 
at her.

     At the station, she couldn't even bring herself into either of the studios. She'd would 
stand at the door of studio A, watch and feel miserable. When watching got the best of 
her, she would walk dejected into Betty's office and ask if there was anything she could 
do.  She felt like a damned intern.  There were many days when the green room wall had 
been subjected to an angrily thrown cup or saucer.

     It was on one such frustrating day that Hilary sat on the green room couch. Her back 
had been aching constantly since morning and she just felt uncomfortable in general. The 
radio was off; she didn't have the heart to listen to Maple reading her roles.

	She leaned to pick up a discarded script from that afternoon's Hands Of Time and 
idylly flipped through it. Since not being able to play Elizabeth, she'd lost track of where 
the show was going. A scene between Brent and Elizabeth jumped out at her. They were 
discussing her recent mugging. Mugging?

	Today had been the wrong day for her to realize that Betty had again used some 
low point in her life for a plot idea. It was bad enough to go through the gauntlet of 
walking past Gertie's accusatory glance every morning. She really didn't need her life to 
be part of a radio drama.

	She pushed off the couch amid a kick of protest from the baby. She smiled and 
rubbed the area where she could feel the little foot against her stomach. "Sorry, didn't 
mean to disturb you."

	Purposefully, she walked down to the writer's room. Knocking on the open door, 
she let Betty know of her presence.

	"Betty, may I speak to you for a moment."

	Betty looked up from her typewriter, "Sure Hilary, come on in."

	She set the script on the writer's desk and pulled a chair up to sit. "I just glanced at 
this a bit ago and I have to ask, why must you keep bringing painful moments from my 
life into the show?"

	The young woman sat straight, "It's the sponsor's that detail the plots in advance, 
Hilary."

	Hilary challengingly met the woman's dark eyes. "Betty, that's the same story you 
gave me when you had Brent had marry another woman, again. I know for a fact that you 
send the sponsors the plot-line in advance and all they do is approve various parts of it."

	She leaned forward to rest an elbow on the desk, noting that Betty was blushing 
somewhat, "I can forgive the earlier two wives script." Giving Betty her undivided 
attention, Hilary told the woman, "I relive this thing every time I close my eyes, I will 
NOT be subjected to it at work.  I want this written out of the script now. I don't care how 
you explain its sudden absence, but do it!"

	Betty leaned forward, "Hilary, I--"

	"The sponsors are not heartless Betty, they will understand." Hilary told her, "If 
not I will speak to them myself." She stood to leave, "Betty, think for yourself for once. 
You got this job because Victor liked what he saw in your potential. Stop taking plot 
ideas from events that happen here. Use your mind." With that final thought, she left the 
room.

	Betty looked down at her typewriter and pulled the paper from it. She thought for 
a couple seconds and started writing a story she'd had hidden in her conscious for quite 
some time. Hilary was right, she was using too many everyday references in her dramas. 
She'd call the Foxx's with a new synopsis of the Hands of Time as soon as she wrote it.


	As Hilary walked past Gertie's desk, she stopped to give the woman a message for 
Jeff who was still on the air.

	"Gertie, please tell Jeffrey that I ran downstairs to The Buttery for something to 
eat." She patted a hand against her rounded stomach, "She's been restless all day so I 
want to try to see if she settles down if I eat something." Hilary joked with a lift of her 
brow. "She's very insistent, like her father."

	"You know many people are unsure of who that father is." Gertie stated bluntly.

	Hilary stood straight, "And what do you think," she asked through tight lips.

	Gertie looked her into the eye, "I think you should be more respectful of Jeff's 
feelings."

	A burst of anger shot through Hilary. "No Gertie, I think you should!" With that 
remark she left the studio.


	Hilary sat at the counter and tried to ignore the whispered stares. Finally having 
had enough, she put her burger down and asked the counter waitress of she could please 
have the rest of her meal boxed up to go. After paying and thanking the woman she left 
the diner.

	On her way back upstairs she rubbed the small of her back. I should have stayed 
home today, she thought. Should have stayed home. She rolled her eyes at the thought. 
Why do I let this get to me?  Because the bastard nearly killed me, and still I get blamed.

	The elevator doors opened, and she walked back into the station. It was days like 
this that made her want to just crawl into bed and forget the outside world existed.

	Hilary stepped into the lobby and caught the slight judgmental sniff from the 
receptionist. That had been the last straw.

	"For your information, Gertrude, I was wearing the green dress that I wore to 
work that Saturday. Not exactly seductive. I did not *ask* to be pulled into a dark alley 
by a man I never saw. I tend not to sleep with men who are trying to kill me at the same 
time!" Hilary explained loudly. "It's detrimental to my health."

	"And as for the baby--" Hilary jumped when a script came flying down the hall 
followed by a livid Jeffrey.

	"That is MY baby!" He shouted angrily at Gertie, "why can't people believe it? 
Do you not think me capable of being a father?"

	He stopped at her desk, "I am sick and tired of all your stares, your glances, your 
gossiping phone calls to friends!" Jeff turned, seeing the surprised crowd gathered behind 
him. "I am sick of ALL your "poor Jeff' whispers. I survived the London war zone twice, 
I don't NEED to be felt sorry for!" He turned to Hilary, "I wish you'd have told me about 
the first baby. I HAD a right to know that we lost a child. Even if I had married Pavla and 
was living happily ever after with her right now, I had a right to know. That was my 
child, Hilary. As much as this baby is."

	Jeff picked the thrown script from the floor and walked past his surprised co-
workers to Scott, "I understand why you married her, Scott, but why didn't you divorce 
Hilary as SOON as I came back?"

	He looked at Victor, who stood in the office door behind Scott, "A 'thank you for 
ruining your life to save mine' would have been nice!" He turned to storm out of the 
station but hesitated, he shoved the script he held at Betty, "and I am tired of reading 
scripts that hit too close to home." With that statement he rushed past Hilary and out the 
door, leaving a stunned silent group of people.

	Only Maple spoke and it was barely audible, "good for you Jeff."


	Hilary was the first to move, "I--nevermind."  She stopped her statement and left 
the station intent on finding Jeff.  She didn't have far to look. He was standing at the end 
of the hallway looking out the window. She could tell he was crying.

	"Pumpkin," she said softly as she stopped behind him.

	"Could you leave me alone for a while, Hilary?" He asked, not turning from the 
window.

	"If you want." She hesitated, knowing him enough to know that he really didn't 
want to be alone.

	"I really blew it didn't I?" After a moment he turned to face her. "I shouldn't have 
said those things."

	"You said them because that's how you feel, darling." She hesitantly placed a 
hand on his arm, "You spilled a couple of secrets, but I should have told you before you 
went to London that I was pregnant. I just didn't want you 
to think I was using our baby as an excuse to keep you with me."

	"So you handcuffed me to a sideboard in the green room instead?! What was I 
supposed to think then, Hilary? That you wanted to play?" He remarked shortly. "Telling 
me you were pregnant might have actually worked."

	"I'm sorry. It wasn't a good decision on my part." She apologized, "You know I'm 
always good for a less than thought out action, when it comes to you." She smiled, "You 
make me lose my mind sometimes."

	He pulled her into his arms, "The feeling is mutual."

	She rubbed his back, "Scott can work out whatever he needs to with Betty. If he 
wants me to talk to her I will, but don't worry about that. She needed to know."

	"I should apologize anyway." He loosened his hold, "I do think I will go 
downstairs to cool off first."

	"Do you want to go alone," she asked, then rubbed her stomach, "or would you 
like for us to accompany you dad?"

	He smiled, put his arm around her shoulders and led her to the elevator, "company 
would be nice."


	After returning to the station an hour later, Jeff apologized to everyone for flying 
so far off the handle, explaining that the last seven months had been extremely hard on 
both he and Hilary.

	Then he sought out Scott and apologized. Scott assured Jeff that he was forgiven 
and that he'd just saved him from having to screw up the courage to tell Betty on his own.

	An anxious Maple barged into the office, "Jeff! That stubborn kid of yours has 
decided now would be a good time to meet everyone."

	He flew out of the chair, "What? Where is she?"

	"Hilary is in the green room, I called a cab for you." Maple informed him. "I also 
called her doctor."

	"Thanks Maple," He rushed out of the office followed by Scott.

	"Is there anything from home you need to get Jeff?" Scott asked.

	He pulled keys from his pocket, "There's a suitcase sitting at the foot of 
the stairs in the living room."

	"Don't worry about it Jeff, I still have a key." He turned to the redhead behind 
him, "Mapes, can I borrow your car?" 
	"Yeah. I'm a little low on my gas ration this month," she explained, "but I think 
there is plenty in it."

	"Ok thanks," Scott rushed past the green room as Jeff went into it, "I'll meet you 
at the hospital Jeff." He ran out of the studio en route to the parking lot.

	Jeff went to Hilary who was lying on the couch grimacing through a contraction. 
"Darling, when did this start?" he asked as he knelt next to her.

	"Nine months ago!" She grabbed his shoulder and squeezed, "I was stupid enough 
to re-marry you. Again."

	"I love you too, Mittens" Jeff laughed, "but I was talking about--"

	She smiled as the pain subsided for the moment, "I think, given the back pain I've 
been feeling all day, that I've been in labor for a while." She lay her head on the arm of 
the couch, "The contractions themselves are far enough apart right now that I think we 
have time."

	Jeff rubbed her forehead, "All right, Maple called a cab for us and Scott went to 
get the suitcase we had packed."

	Maple peeked into the room, "Jeff, the cab is here."

	He turned, "Okay, thanks." After standing, Jeff leaned over Hilary, "Think you 
can walk or do you want me to carry you down?"

	"I'm okay." She pushed herself to a seated position and started to her 
feet. "Be careful of my arm." She reminded as he walked to her right side.

	"Okay." Jeff helped her to her feet and let her lean against him as they made their 
way through the reception area of the station and downstairs to the cab.


	When they got to the hospital and got checked in, Dr. Jamison met them and 
assured that everything seemed to be proceeding normally. Jeff kissed Hilary and 
watched as they took her into the labor room.

	The nurses showed him to a waiting room where he sat and nervously clasped and 
unclasped his hands. Unwittingly he recalled the last time he was in a hospital waiting 
room. This time though it was for a much better reason. He wasn't panicked and afraid of 
losing Hilary. Well, much. Women have babies everyday. Ok, stop it Jeff before you 
think yourself into a tizzy; he reprimanded himself.

	"Hey. Here's that suitcase." Scott said as he sat next to the nervous Jeff.

	"Thanks," Jeff said. Then looked to the man next to him, "How did you get into 
the house? I didn't give you my key."

	"Oh, uh, I still had my house key." Scott answered sheepishly. "I guess I just 
never got around to giving it back to Hilary after I moved out."

	A perplexed look crossed Jeff's face, "Scott if Hilary hadn't lost the baby and I 
hadn't come back, you would have stayed married to her."

	"Well, yeah." Scott rubbed the back of his neck, "She needed someone."

	"Are you in love with her?" Jeff asked, "tell me the truth."

	"As irritating and frustrating as she is, I could easily have learned to 
love her. But now," Scott shook his head, "No. I love her no more than I do Mapes." He 
noticed the confused furrow in his friend's brow and explained, "She's a very dear friend 
and I'd do anything for her, but am I in love with her? No."

	"Were you ever going to tell Betty?"

	"Once it would have been obvious that she was pregnant, we were going to tell 
everyone that we'd gone too far one night and I wanted to do right by her."

	"You were going to deny me as a parent?"

	"No. I was going to let you know. Hilary didn't want to. She was mad enough to 
erase you from existence, but she cried herself to sleep practically every other night." 
Scott sat back, "I knew she was hurting and would have regretted not telling you."

	"After she lost the baby, we decided to keep the marriage a secret." Scott 
continued. "We didn't separate right away because losing the baby was almost like losing 
you again. I didn't want to leave her alone. We were in the process of getting a divorce 
when you came back."

	Jeff took a breath, "I don't understand why you didn't."

	"It was her idea." Scott answered, "I think part of it was to get back at you and 
part of it was that she wanted some shred of stability. She'd had to adjust to losing you 
and a baby. I don't think she wanted to upset the apple cart again."

	"If you were going to stay married to Hilary, why did you pursue Betty so 
openly?" Jeff asked, now confused.

	"I'm not blind Jeff." Scott answered with a wave of his arm, "I knew damn good 
and well you'd worm your way back into Hilary's life. Hell, I kept a set of divorce papers 
ready with Doug because I knew eventually she'd realize you were the person she needed 
to be with."

	"I just wish Betty would make that decision." Scott finished. "I'm afraid that once 
Victor gets back, she'll want to be with him."

	"You're the one that's here Scott." Jeff reminded him, "Take advantage of the 
army putting you in charge of the w.e.n.n."

	Jeff looked at his watch and realized they'd been talking for the past several hours. 
He got up to ask about Hilary when Mary stepped out of the door.

	She smiled, "It's a girl. And she's beautiful."

	"Hilary's okay?" Jeff asked, wiping away a tear.

	Mary nodded and hugged him. "She just fine and asking to see you."


	Scott joined them and patted Jeff on the back. "I'll go back to the station and let 
people know."

	"No." Jeff stopped him, "Had things been different, you'd have been in my shoes 
about," he counted back and then gave a slight chuckle, "nine months go."

	"Why don't you wait for a bit. You can see the baby."

	Scott smiled, "Okay. You go ahead, I'll call the station."

	Mary told Scott what room Hilary was in and led Jeff through the doors.


	Jeff quietly pushed through the door and hesitated when he saw Hilary softly 
cooing to the baby she held cradled in her left arm. He couldn't remember having seen, 
what was to him, a more beautiful sight. He leaned against the door careful not to make a 
sound and watched.

	As he watched Hilary wipe a tear from her eye, Jeff thanked every God he'd ever 
heard about, and a few he made up, for allowing him this moment. He took a calming 
breath and quietly tapped on the door.

	She glanced up and smiled when she saw him walk into the room. Hilary turned 
back to the infant and whispered, "this is your daddy, sweetheart." She looked at him as 
he pulled a chair around the bed and sat. "I was telling her about you."

	Jeff laughed through tears of happiness that he couldn't stop. "What were you 
telling her?" He tenderly rubbed his index finger over the sleeping newborn's cheek.

	"I was telling her that she's very lucky to have Jeffrey Singer as a father." Hilary 
leaned toward his shoulder, "And we're very lucky to have her." She closed her eyes, "Oh 
Jeff," she began to cry softly, "How close--"

	"Mittens darling, don't do this." He put an arm around her shoulders and held his 
family close.

	"I can't help it." She replied, "I look at her little face and--" She caressed the tiny 
face, "I wouldn't let the nurses take her just yet. I'm afraid to let her go. Afraid I'll wake 
up."

	Jeff moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He leaned forward and tenderly guided 
Hilary's gaze to him, "Darling, I've promised you over and over that I would let nothing 
happen to you or the baby. I intend to keep that promise." He laughed, "If you think I was 
protective before, you watch." He leaned to kiss her softly, and then pressed a light kiss 
on the baby's forehead.

	"You know, we discussed it, but we never settled on a name for our little miracle 
here." Jeff realized.

	"I was thinking about that just before you came in." Hilary told him, "Your 
mother sent me a book that has names with their meanings. I want the baby to have a 
name that means something to all of us."

	"Did you find one?"

	She nodded, "Anjeanette. It means 'special gift.'"

	Jeff looked at the sleeping baby and smiled as she hiccuped. "She does look like a 
little angel."

	"That she does." Hilary agreed.

	"Anjeanette Singer." Jeff mulled it over, "I like it. Mama will like it." He thought 
for a second, "What about a middle name?"

	Without hesitation, Hilary supplied one. "Rose." She explained, "If it hadn't been 
for Rosie I may have bled to death and I would have certainly lost her." She indicated the 
baby by a slight lift of her arm.

	"Then Rose it shall be." Jeff said. "Anjeanette Rose Singer." He laughed and 
drifted a hand along the fine hair on the baby's head, "Right now your name is bigger 
than you are, but by the odds you will definitely grow into it."

	Hilary giggled softly then looked up when she heard a throat clearing near the 
room entrance.

	"Am I interrupting?"

	"Scotty," Hilary said surprised to see him, "no, you aren't."

	He started to walk in but gestured toward the door, "Are you sure? Because if I'm 
interrupting I could go."

	"Come and see your god-daughter," Jeff encouraged.

	Both Hilary and Scott looked at him in surprise.

	"What" he asked. "I can't think of a more appropriate person."

	Scott walked to the bed, "Oh, gee Jeff I-- I don't know what to say." He stumbled 
uncharacteristically over the sentiment.

	"That would be a first," Hilary laughed. She turned slightly at the waist, "Would 
you like to hold her?"

	"Oh no, I'm not--" his protest was interrupted when Hilary leaned forward. He 
bent and awkwardly took her.

	"Watch her head." Hilary reminded, making sure he had her securely.

	The movement stirred the baby awake and she opened her eyes slightly. She 
squeaked a small cry of protest and soon settled back into her slumber. Scott grinned 
widely and looked at Hilary. He could tell by the look in her eyes that she was thinking 
the same thing he was. About 'could-have-beens'.  He walked around the bed and handed 
the baby to Jeff. "Here you go pop. She's gonna be a handful." He warned.

	Jeff laughed softly and nodded in agreement.   

	"I'll leave the three of you alone to get to know each other. Maple is dying to 
know what you named her." He said and bade the new family farewell.


	Not long after Scott left a nurse came to take the baby back to the nursery. Jeff 
hesitantly handed her over. "You'll get plenty of time with this little one, daddy." The 
nurse reminded him.

	Jeff walked to the middle of the room almost following the woman out, "I know, 
it's just--"

	"Jeffrey." Hilary chided with a giggle. She reached her left hand to him when he 
turned to her. "Come here, pumpkin."

	As Jeff walked to her, Hilary lay back and groaned a little as her body sharply 
reminded her she'd just had a baby.

	"Are you all right darling?" He asked as he again sat on the edge of the bed on her 
left.

	She lay her arm across his lap, "I'm rather sore." She smiled, "but it's a good pain, 
not like--well, not like the last time I was here."  She laughed lightly, "I can bear this pain 
knowing that it's because our daughter survived and is here with us now."

	Jeff leaned forward and kissed her gently on the cheek. He drifted a hand through 
her hair. "She's a remarkably cute kid," he said with a smug grin.

	"Of course she is." Hilary laughed tiredly, "With the two of us as 
parent's how could she not be?"

	"You have a very good point my dearest." He replied with a widening grin.

	"Why don't you sleep, sweetheart," Jeff suggested after he noticed she was 
fighting the urge to rest. "I'll sit here with you."

	She agreed and closed her eyes to the feel of Jeff lightly stroking her arm.


	The day after she had Anjeanette, Hilary waited until Jeff had gone to work and 
then set out to calling every newspaper gossip columnist she could think of. She wanted 
to finally and completely erase all doubts as to the father of the baby now that she had the 
indisputable proof. Hedda Hopper was the first person she called.

	She explained in no uncertain terms that she wanted a birth announcement printed 
in her column and an apology for the retraction she promised, but never printed. Hilary 
warned that if she didn't see an apology in her column within the week she would contact 
an attorney and sue for slander.

	She then called the Pittsburgh Sun and asked if they would also run an 
announcement. They promptly agreed to run it in that evening's edition.

	She called WENN and asked Scott if he would read an announcement that she had 
written specifically for them. She also told him not to tell Jeff that she'd called and not to 
read the announcement until Jeff had come back to the hospital. She wanted to be with 
him when he heard it. Scott agreed Hilary read him the notice.


	Early that evening as Jeff sat with her listening to the radio, Mackie read her 
statement,


	I want to lead off my news tonight with a very special announcement. Two of my 
dearest friends became three yesterday. Hilary Booth and Jeff Singer became the proud 
parents of Anjeanette Rose Singer yesterday afternoon.

	This morning, Hilary requested that we read this note. "I want to thank
those of you who did not believe the idle gossip and rumors surrounding	the timing of 
my attack in March and the baby. For those of you who did believe, I want to remind you 
that yesterday was October 17th.  Anjeanette was not early. I hope this clears up any 
confusion."

	With that said, I want to pass along my personal congratulations.


	As Mackie continued with the rest of his news, Jeff turned the volume of the radio 
down. "Scoot over," he said as he lay down next to her. He enveloped her into his arms, 
settling her against his side. "Thank you, Mittens."

	"I also called every newspaper I could think of. She's your baby Jeffrey and I 
want the world to realize that." Hilary told him softly.

	"You didn't have to do that darling."

	"I wanted to."


	"Knock, knock."

	They looked to the door and saw a nurse walking toward the bed carrying a 
whimpering Anjeanette.

	Jeff quickly stood as the older woman gave him an un-amused 'get out of that bed' 
glare. He smiled sheepishly at her as she turned her attention to Hilary.

	"Someone here would like to be fed." She said as she started to hand the baby to 
her mother. "I thought you would like to feed her."

	"The other arm, please. I can't--" Hilary reminded as the nurse started to hand her 
the baby to the right side.

	"Oh yes, I'm sorry I'd forgotten." She walked to the other side of the bed.

	When she stopped next to him Jeff offered, "I can take her."

	The woman looked sharply down her nose at him, "Yes I'm sure you could," she 
replied quite snootily, then leaned and gave the baby to Hilary. She then handed her the 
bottle and told them she'd return in a half an hour for the baby.

	When she left the room, Jeff sat back on the bed with a chuckle, "It's good to 
know that Nurse Brumpton has relatives."

	Hilary chuckled, "Yes, lovely woman isn't she." She started to give the baby her 
bottle, then looked at Jeff. "Here, would you like to feed her?"

	"I'd love to." Jeff lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "Just don't let 
Brunhilda see me touching the baby."

	With a laugh, Hilary carefully handed Anjeanette to Jeff. When she started to 
hand him the bottle, her arm tightened. She flinched, "Ow."

	"You okay?" Jeff asked as he took the bottle.

	"Yes. I guess I've overdone the use of my arm." She lay back in frustration, 
"Jeffrey how am I going to be able to take care of her if I can barely use my right arm?"

	"Your arm is getting much more limber, darling." he assured her, "give it time."

	"Time? It's been seven months." she complained, "I'm afraid that I've gotten it as 
far as it will go." She lifted it up near her shoulder as proof.

	The baby let out a squeal of complaint as Jeff took the bottle from her mouth to 
let her catch her breath.

	"Sorry Angel," Jeff cooed softly, "but sometimes you have to breathe between 
courses. Your mother is always telling me that."

	"Jeffrey, you inhale your food." Hilary reminded.

	"I cook it, darling. I can eat it however I want." he retorted. Jeff gave the baby 
back the bottle and she drank eagerly.

	Hilary watched with a smile as Jeff fed their daughter. She truly hoped that the 
birth announcements that would appear in the next couple days would dispel any rumors.

	As she watched the scene, Hilary concentrated on Jeff. With a start she realized 
that they had not made love since the night before she'd been assau--no. If she wanted to 
get past it, she had to admit it. She was raped by a man she never saw. Hilary took a deep 
breath and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. Having internally admitted what had 
happened to her had lifted a weight from her shoulders she didn't know she was carrying. 
For the first time, since the whole nightmare began, Hilary realized that she would be 
okay. They would be okay. She reached her arm over and lay a hand on her husband's 
leg.

	He looked at her and smiled. After taking the now empty bottle away from the 
baby, he leaned and handed the now contented infant back to Hilary. Once she'd burped 
the baby and began to settle her into the crook of her left arm, Jeff suggested, "Darling, I 
have an idea. While you're right in that you probably have stretched the muscle as far as 
it will go, maybe it's time to start adding more weight than just the ones Dr. Jamison 
provided."

	When she gave him a confused look, he continued, "Try holding Anjeanette with 
your right arm. I'll use my arm as support."

	"All right." Hilary agreed. She handed the baby back to Jeff who turned her so he 
could lay her head against Hilary's right arm.

	"Find a comfortable level." he told her.

	"Okay."

	He carefully lay the baby in her arm, "How does that feel?"

	"Wonderful." she replied, "but she's getting heavy."

	Jeff leaned forward and lay his arm beneath hers, then curled his hand around her 
shoulder as a brace. "There, now rest your arm on mine. Let mine take the weight. Take it 
slow."

	Anjeanette stretched broadly, then yawned. She opened her eyes briefly, sighed 
and then drifted off to sleep.

	Hilary laughed lightly and looked at Jeff, whose face was inches from hers and 
watching her intently. "Thank you, pumpkin." she whispered softly.

	He reached his free hand around her head and pulled her lips to his, kissing her 
passionately.

	"Hey, hey, hey!" They both jumped slightly at the sharp disapproving voice 
behind them. Hilary rolled her eyes and grinned as the nurse walked to the bed and 
glared. They separated, Jeff still supporting her arm, and gave the gray haired woman 
expectant stares.

	"Yes mother?" Jeff deadpanned.

	She clucked disapprovingly at him and waved him away. She carefully took the 
sleeping baby, "Such behavior in front of a child." she reprimanded sharply. "Shouldn't 
you be getting on home?" She told Jeff.

	"My home is where my family is." he retorted. He noticed a slight softening in the 
woman's features and added nicely, "But I should be leaving. I do have an early show to 
do in the morning."

	The woman smiled, bid them goodnight and left the room with the baby.

	"Boy, you could charm a snake Jeffrey Singer." Hilary teased having noticed the 
way the woman responded.

	"Of course I can." he leaned and met Hilary's lips, "I charmed you didn't I?"

	She smacked him lightly on the shoulder, but returned his kiss happily. After a 
moment she leaned back, "So go home. I do want to try to get a good night's sleep."



	After the baby was born, Jeff insisted that Hilary stay home as long as she needed. 
Still leery of leaving her alone, Jeff sent either Scott or Mackie, whichever of the two not 
on the air, to stay with her until he was no longer needed. It was as Hilary put it, "a 
ridiculous waste of energy and gasoline", and soon she had convinced Jeff to just take 
them to work with him.

	She'd begun to spend her time in the green room piling magazines atop each other 
and using them as weights to build the strength of her arm. It was archaic, but it worked. 
After nearly a month she was able to hold Anjeanette with her right arm long enough to 
feed her.

	Finally, Hilary felt her life had begun to return to some normalcy. She was 
overcoming obstacles one by one. Each wall she passed was a milestone and a cause for 
celebration. Just two days earlier she'd passed, what she considered to be a major hurdle. 
Maple had just started an episode of The Hands of Time when a winter flu bug caught up 
with her and she had to quickly leave the studio.

	Betty was in the middle of typing a script and had no idea anything was wrong, 
Gertie was on the phone and Eugenia was playing the organ. After hearing the hesitation 
in Jeff as he scrambled to find an explanation for the suddenly departed Elizabeth, Hilary, 
without thinking, dashed into the studio.

	Surprised to see her, Jeff stood motionless until he realized she was trying to ask 
him where they were. He pointed to the line and she read it. They had gotten through the 
rest of the show and were cleared by Lester before Hilary realized her instincts had taken 
over.

	"I did it!" She mumbled and looked around. Betty, Maple, and Scott here standing 
outside the studio doors with smiles on their faces. Maple was giving her a 'thumbs up' 
sign.

	Mr. Foley and Eugenia were standing hand in hand and Foley handed his fiancee 
a handkerchief. Lester was smiling widely, resting his chin on his hand.

	She looked into Jeffrey's eyes and saw proud tears filling them. "I did it, 
pumpkin." She whispered, "I did it."

	Jeff swept her into a bear hug, mindful of her arm, and lifted her off the floor. 
"Yes you did, darling! You certainly did."


	After that, Hilary worked her way back onto the air slowly. She didn't want to 
overdo things. Several of her fans had called the station expressing their gladness that she 
was back on the air. Those calls did wonders to bolster her confidence.

	Anjeanette also had done wonders to bolster her confidence. Now instead of being 
woken from a nightmare it was from a hungry cry. Lately as she sat near the nursery 
window in the rocking chair Jeffrey had given her, she stared out the window toward 
O'Malley's. Would she ever be able to go back there again?

	Joe and Rosie had come by the station numerous times to see the baby. But one 
day, Hilary had vowed she would be able to bring the baby to them. It was just that every 
time she looked toward that end of the street, her stomach tied into knots and she felt a 
cold dread.

	It was akin to passing the troll on the bridge. Someday she'd be able to defeat the 
monster that kept her from her friends. Someday. But not today.

	Each night once Anjeanette had been fed and changed, she would sit in front of 
the window, rock, and fill her little Angel in on all the details of the family she'd been 
born into. She told her about how she and Jeff had met, how they ended up in Pittsburgh, 
how much WENN meant to her. That last part, she'd never told a soul, but Anjeanette had 
promised to keep her secret. So had Jeff who'd overheard then quietly slipped back into 
bed.


	"Jeffrey, I'd like to take a vacation." Hilary surprised him with one early 
December day in the green room.

	"A vacation? Hilary it's in the middle of winter and there is a war going on." Jeff 
reminded, "Where would we go?"

	"I don't know, but I think getting away from here for even a weekend would do 
me, do US, a world of good." She insisted.

	"What about Angel?"

	"I've already spoken to Maple. She said she'd love to keep her for us."

	"What about work?"

	"I've spoken to Scott and Betty. They cleared us for a week."

	"Why do I get the feeling you've already got this trip planned?"

	She gave Jeff her most demurely innocent smile.

	He sighed and gave in. "Where are we going?"

	"Casa de Siesta." She said almost questioningly.

	"Matamo-- Mexico?!" He repeated surprised. "Hilary-"

	"Darling, it's all been arranged. I wanted to go to someplace safely 
familiar. Someplace important to us." She explained, "I need to get 'us' back."

	"How did you arrange this?"

	"Scott-"

	"Nevermind, I don't want to know." Jeff interrupted her. "When are we leaving?"

	"Two days after Christmas."

	"For our anniversary." Jeff realized. He pulled her into an embrace.

	"I wanted to go back to the beginning," she whispered against his shoulder. 
"Inauspicious though it may be," she added with a giggle.

	Jeff chuckled along with her, "anything for you my dear."


	Their day of departure came quickly. As it came time to go to the airport, Hilary 
was very hesitant to leave Anjeanette alone for a week. She went over every detail with 
Maple several times before Jeff finally pulled her out of the station. On his way out Jeff 
turned to the exasperated red-head and asked her if she was sure she had everything.

	"Go!" She laughed, "before you both make me crazy. Angel and I will have a 
great week."


	The plane ride was smooth, thankfully a winter storm had passed leaving 
sparkling white snow on the ground and clear skies in the air. Once they got to Mexico 
though the weather was warm and sunny.

	As she stepped from the plane, Hilary took a deep breath. "It feels so good." She 
then turned, "I should call Maple to see how-"

	"Hilary. She's fine." Jeff interrupted and ushered her into the terminal so they 
could retrieve their luggage.

	A courtesy cab was waiting to take them to the Casa de Siesta. They stepped into 
it and soon were on their way. They checked in and were greeted by the rotund and 
overly friendly owner. He hugged Hilary and shook Jeff's hand. Then with a wink he 
asked if they were getting married again.

	Hilary gave him a humored laugh. "No, no. I think the third time was the charm."

	The man pursed his lips, "Third time?"

	Jeff moved quickly before Hilary could wrap her hands around the man's neck. 
He gently moved her aside and stepped between the two. "The second time wasn't exactly 
legal."

	The man looked surprised, "Padre Michael no padre?" Then a surprised look 
passed over his features. He slapped his forehead, "Aye mi cabesa! Many apologies. He 
was Padre for many years. He married you first time. I completely forgot he no longer 
marry."

	Hilary raised her eyebrow as the man quickly spoke in a mixture of Spanish and 
broken English. 
	"I hope it was not giving you trouble." The man added in a concerned tone.

	Hilary started laughing. She couldn't help herself. She had no idea why that 
certain moment was hysterical to her, but it was funny. Between laughs she mumbled, 
"You have no idea."

	The man must have caught a meaning behind her laughter, "Oh it did. I'm 
apologizing. Wait, you stay a week, si? It's on me."

	Hilary stopped laughing, "No! No, you needn't worry."

	"It wasn't your fault Senior Roja," Jeff assured, "really."

	"Yes," Hilary spoke up and pointed to Jeff, "it was his."

	"Mine?" He turned to her, "What do you mean mine? You were just as anxious 
as I was to get remarried."

	"I'm talking about your Czech--"

	"Don't start that," Jeff interrupted, "that part of our lives is closed and done."

	"Yes I know. I just drag it out of the trunk every so often to needle you." Hilary 
replied.

	Jeff gave her a frustrated growl, "Hil--"

	Senior Roja laughed and put his arm around both their waists, hugging them close 
to him, "We have missed you two around here."

	The jolly man moved then, "You wait here. I be back un momento."

	They stood and looked at each other in amused confusion. Jeff answered the 
question in Hilary's eyes with a shrug.

	"While he's gone, let me call Maple." Hilary said as she pointed to a telephone in 
the lobby.

	"Darling, why don't you wait until we get into our room. That way we don't have 
to reverse the charges."

	"All right. I just wonder how Anjeanette is doing," Hilary admitted.

	"Mittens as soon as we get into the room you can call." Jeff told her as he brushed 
a flyaway hair behind her ear. "Why don't you try to get your mind off her for a second. 
Give me hell about Pavla. I know you love doing that."

	She smiled coquettishly, "It's no fun when you are expecting it."

	Senior Roja interrupted Jeff's reply when he arrived with their room keys. "Here, I 
checked your room, she is available." He ushered them through the large lobby and onto 
the large patio. He handed Jeff the keys and pointed past the pool to a group of cabanas. 
"You know the one," he said and waved them on their way. "Go."


	As they walked into the oak door, Hilary realized with a smile, "Jeffrey that old 
fool gave us the . . ."

	". . . same room we stayed in, in 19--" Jeff went to finish her sentence but she 
interrupted.

	"A few years ago." She walked in and was assailed with memories. She touched 
the table top that she recalled sitting at the morning after their wedding. She'd worried 
that she had made a mistake. Eleven years later she knew that that mistake had been the 
beginning of her life. "Eleven years." She turned and looked at Jeff. "Has it really been 
that long?"

	He shut the door and walked to her. "Did you ever think we'd make it to this 
point?" 
	She chuckled, "It's a wonder we didn't kill each other in the two weeks we were 
married."

	Jeff wrapped his arms around Hilary, "Do you realize that -this- New Year's Eve 
will only technically be our first wedding anniversary. In the eleven years that we've been 
together, we have only been honestly married for one year."

	"And two weeks." Hilary added.

	"Yes. Those nightmarish yet incredibly passionate two weeks." He replied then 
lowered his mouth to hers. He kissed her tenderly, then told her in a voice heavy with 
desire, "I miss you."

	She pulled away from his arms, "Jeffrey, I--"

	"I wasn't pressuring you sweetheart," he quickly responded. "You know you have 
all the time in the world that you need. I was just saying that I miss you."

	"I should call Maple." Hilary said, ending the suddenly uncomfortable moment.

	"Ok, you do that and I'll unpack our things." And kick myself, Jeff thought. He 
did miss her. Not just the feel of her body against his, but also the deep emotional 
connection they always shared when making love. Perhaps being here will help. Once he 
finished putting clothes into the drawers, Jeff walked to the bed and sat next to Hilary as 
she laughed while talking to Maple.

	When he sat, Jeff noticed one thing that gladdened his heart. Instead of leaning 
away from him as she'd done in the past months, Hilary instinctually leaned toward him 
as she'd done since they'd known each other. It was subtle body language, but he'd come 
to know and read her body as well as a treasured book of his. He smiled and set his hand 
atop hers' that rested on her leg.

	"So how is our little Angel?" Jeff asked when Hilary hung the phone up.

	"She's sleeping right now." Hilary answered, "Maple said that Mackie fed Angel 
her lunch and was playing with her until she vomited down his collar."

	Jeff laughed and lay back onto the bed, "I'm sorry I missed that."

	Hilary lay next to him giggling, "Me too. Would have been a lovely photograph."

	Jeff stopped laughing and rolled to lean over her. He threaded a hand into her hair 
and softly rubbed her temple, "Hilary, I love you. I would never in a million years and 
then some, hurt you." He stopped for a moment remembering the 
'Pavla incident' as they'd come to refer to it as, "I mean, not again. Not--"


	She stopped him with a hand to his cheek, "I know what you mean, pumpkin." 
She pulled his lips to hers and let him explore her mouth with his tongue. She wanted 
him. She wanted him desperately, but something in her kept pulling away. 

	When she let out a small hurt cry, Jeff pulled away quickly. "I'm sorry did I--"

	"No." she whispered and sat, "it's me."

	"Hilary, don't force it." He told her, "I will always be here for you. I don't want 
you to feel as though you have to give in just to keep me." He brushed a tear from her 
cheek, "Darling you have me. You have my soul. I don't need your body to be in love 
with you." He grinned slightly with a wickedly mischievous glint in his eye, "That's just 
an added perk." She laughed lightly at his comment as he'd hoped she would.

	"Jeffrey Singer what did I do to deserve a man like you?" she asked tracing his 
cheekbone with a finger.

	"Not quite sure," he replied, took her hand from his face and dropped a kiss on her 
palm. "But keep doing it."


	That night, Hilary woke screaming. Jeff sat instantly and tried to calm her. She 
muttered over and over, "something's wrong with the baby."

	"Hilary darling, calm down before you make yourself sick." He told her gently, 
seeing that she was in near hysterics.

	"Something's wrong. Jeffrey I have to go to her."

	"Tell me what's wrong." He held her by the arms and tried to get her attention.

	"I have to get to her before the he does," she said in a panicked voice and tried to 
almost violently wrench out of Jeff's grip. "Let me go!" She yelled desperately.

	"Hilary--" he observed that she was still half asleep and not quite aware of her 
surroundings.

	Suddenly she stopped struggling and looked at him with unrecognizing and 
pleading eyes, "Please don't hurt me." She began struggling again, this time scratching 
and clawing at him. "Not the knife! Please I'll do anything you want don't kill me."

	"Darling, it's me. It's Pumpkin." He used his nickname hoping she'd be drawn to 
the endearment. He still held her tightly, afraid she'd hurt herself or him or both.

	She struggled against his hold. "Please," she cried, her voice lowering to a 
begging cry, "I have a husband who needs me. Don't do this to me."

	"Mittens, it's me darling." Jeff loosened his hold when rather than struggle she 
began cowering against one of the posts of the bed. "Who else would call the great Hilary 
Booth, Mittens?"

	She finally looked at him with awareness. She looked around numbly and realized 
she was wrapped tightly around the post on her side of the bed, clutching it as if it were a 
lifeline. She looked out into the darkness through the thin curtains draped over the bay 
window behind the bed. "Where am I?" she asked in a small still disoriented voice.

	"We're in Mexico, Hilary. Remember?" He answered in a soft voice.

	"Mexico." She whispered, now fully awake. She leaned her head against the bed 
post and began sobbing.

	Jeff was at her side in an instant. He pulled her carefully into his arms, not 
wanting to frighten her. "Shhh . . . you're safe sweetheart. I'm here."

	She cried hard against his shoulder and muttered, "Will I ever get over this? Will 
the dreams ever go away?"

	"They'll fade in time" he said softly, "but they'll never really go away. I still have 
my dreams on occasion." He explained, smoothing her hair with his hand.

	After a moment of calm silence, Hilary asked, "Can we call Maple please. I know 
it's late, but I need to know that my baby is all right."

	"I'll call her." Jeff assured, "Why don't you go into the bathroom and wipe away 
the dream."

	"Ok." She scooted out of the bed, then turned to Jeff. "You'll call her?"

	"I'm calling her now." He reached for the phone. "See?" He smiled, "Now go 
wash your face."

	As Hilary left the room, he called the operator and gave maple's number to be 
connected with, waited until it was connected and hoped she wouldn't strangle him.

	An obviously just woken up Maple answered the phone. "Yeah?"

	"Maple it's me, Jeff."

	"Jeff it's two in the morning. Is everything all right?"

	"I'm calling to check on Anjeanette for Hilary. She just had a very bad nightmare 
about the baby. She wants to know if Angel is ok."

	"She's fine honey, I just fed her and put her back to sleep not ten minutes ago."

	"Could you just peek in on her?" Jeff asked, "For Hilary's peace of mind."

	"And for yours?" Maple asked.

	"Well . . . yeah." He admitted.

	"Hang on."

	Jeff heard her put the phone down and shuffle away.

	After a bit she returned, "She's fine daddy and grinnin' at something in her sleep."

	Jeff smiled, "I pray she always smiles at her dreams."

	"Yeah." Maple agreed catching his meaning. "Is Hilary ok?"

	"She'll be all right. She's just had a rough night." He explained, "I 
think it's the separation from the baby and the fact that she's in a different place."

	"Could be."

	"Maple, don't take it personally if you get a ton of calls. One of Hilary's recurring 
nightmares is a faceless man trying to take the baby from her." Jeff explained, "She's just 
worried."

	"I understand Jeff." Maple told him. "Really I do."

	"Thanks."

	"Now why don't you guys get some sleep." She yawned, "This kid of yours is 
every bit the handful I expected a kid of yours to be. I need to be rested to keep up with 
her."

	Jeff laughed. "Ok, thank you Maple. We appreciate this." He said goodbye and 
hung up as Hilary left the bathroom.

	"How is she?" Hilary asked as she threw the towel she was carrying onto one of 
the chairs at the table.

	"She's fine. Maple said she just fed her and put her back to sleep." Jeff told her as 
he hopped back into the bed. "So come here." He patted the mattress next to him.

	She lay down next to him and he cuddled her against him in a warm embrace. "Do 
you want to talk about it?" he asked.

	"The dream?"

	"Whatever." He answered, having sensed that she wanted to talk.

	"I should have gone back into O'Malley's that night and apologized. But as usual, 
I let my irrational side take over the rational." She started quietly after a few pensive 
moments. "When I was pulled into the alley I fell. I tried to get up, but he was there."

	Jeff held her tighter, understanding that she needed to excise the memory in order 
to heal from the wound. She'd done the same with him when he finally truly remembered 
what had happened in London.

	"He was so drunk I'm surprised that he was coherent enough to-- I fought him and 
insisted that he get off me." Hilary continued, "It was so dark I couldn't see my own 
hands in front of me. I think I was laying on a rock." She barely laughed, "it funny that I 
remember that."

	She wiped her eyes and continued, "He was pawing at my breasts and muttering a 
leering comment here and there. I insisted again that he get off me. He put his hand over 
my mouth and told me to shut up. When I felt his other hand moving beneath my skirt I 
bit him."

	She took a deep breath and moved up, making herself more comfortable in Jeff's 
arms. He held her closer and rubbed her arm. Hilary closed her eyes and felt a tear drop 
onto Jeff's chest. He made her feel so safe, so loved.

	Jeff closed his own eyes as an all too familiar streak of anger pass over him.  He 
could feel her tears on his skin and wanted nothing more than to be able to take the hurt 
away. But he couldn't. The only thing he could do was patiently listen to Hilary and make 
her feel safe.

	She continued, "After I bit him, he moved his hand and I tried to scream. He 
punched me in the stomach." She softly began crying, "That's when he pulled out the 
knife. He put it against my neck. I begged that he not hurt me. He pricked the point into 
my neck and warned me that if I didn't be quiet, that he'd cut me."

	"He sat straddling my abdomen, literally sat. I remember he was heavy and that 
stupid rock was just digging in under my hip. It hurt." She recalled, "he poked the knife 
into my dress and ripped upward. I screamed. The pain was awful. I'd never felt such pain 
in my life. Until, in anger over my screaming he stabbed the knife into my shoulder."

	Tears were now rolling unchecked down Jeff's cheeks. He thought again that he 
should have followed her home. He would have been there to protect her. Or just his 
being there could have prevented her attack.

	She continued, now eager to just get the words out.  Jeff wiped tears from her face 
and she took his hand. Hilary kissed the palm and held it tightly in her own hand as she 
spoke, "The pain was searing. Intense. I must have cried out because he put his hand over 
my mouth again and angrily told me that he'd warned me to shut up. He held his hand 
tighter against my mouth and yanked the knife out of my shoulder only to . . . stab me 
again. I cried out against his hand but he only made a sound like he was getting some sort 
of pleasure from my pain."

	"It was making me hazy and weak. I couldn't fight him." She said, "I just wanted 
him to go away. He pulled away my dress and started touching me everywhere. I could 
feel the wetness of my blood. He was almost playing in it, like he was painting me with 
my own--" She stopped abruptly. "I think I'm going to be sick," She rushed into the 
bathroom.

	A worried Jeff quickly followed her. She was huddled over the commode and 
coughing. He knelt behind her and held her hair out of the way. When she was finished 
he handed her a towel and a glass of water from the sink. Jeff reached, flushed the toilet 
and closed the lid. He sat against the cold metal of the lions claw tub and gently pulled 
Hilary into his lap, setting the half drunk water glass on the floor before it spilled. He 
cradled her head against his neck and let her cry. 

	"God, I don't know how Anjeanette survived." Hilary sobbed. "I don't even know 
how I did."

	Jeff could no longer hold back his own tears. What kind of animal would do 
something like that to a pregnant woman. To any woman. He held his weeping spouse 
within the safety of his arms. He tenderly assured, "Sweetheart you and the baby survived 
because you both had something to live for. You survived for me, just like I survived that 
bombing for you."

	"Yes, maybe so." She cried, "The last thought I had before I finally passed out 
from the pain was that I loved you."

	"Darling, if I could take this hurt from you I would." Jeff told her through his own 
crying voice.


	After several moments of shared tears, Hilary finally calmed. She turned a still 
tearful gaze to Jeff and asked softly, "Please make it something beautiful again."

	He could tell by the tone of her voice, she well and truly was asking him. It wasn't 
her sadness speaking or a need to please him. He leaned and kissed her softly. Jeff moved 
her from his lap and stood, pulling her up into his arms. He walked into the bedroom and 
carefully lay her on the bed.

	"You're sure?" he asked, wanting to be one hundred percent certain he hadn't read 
her wrong.

	She sat, slipped the straps of the gown she wore off her shoulders and let it fall to 
her hips, "Make me whole again, my love."

	Jeff closed his eyes as desire wound it's way through his body. He pushed down 
the satin pajama bottoms he wore and stepped out of them and onto the bed. 


	As usual he wore nothing under the smooth material, Hilary noticed. She let her 
eyes travel over his body and realized that this was the first time she'd seen her husband 
completely nude in nearly a year. She reached a tentative hand to touch his hip and let her 
fingers travel over the smooth skin. A tear fell silently as she traced a small scar that he'd 
gotten in London. One she'd forgotten about.

	"I don't know you anymore," she said in a sad voice. "I knew your body as well as 
I know my own. Now I can't remember where the scars from London are, or which scars 
are from London and which are from you're growing up." She caressed his face said in an 
emotional voice, "where do I touch you?"

	He moved to the other side of the bed so she wouldn't have to lean her weight on 
the right arm and lay down. "Come here." He gently urged.

	She lay next to him, her legs still covered with the gown she wore. Hilary propped 
her head on her left arm and lay the right against her side. A small part of her felt self 
conscious because her upper body was completely unclothed, but, she pushed that 
thought aside. She'd never felt that way in front of Jeff and she wasn't about to start now.

	He scooted closer to her, "So you'll just have to re-enroll into Jeffrey Singer 101."

	She laughed as he took her right hand and carefully guided her fingers to his 
body. He moved down slightly so she could reach his forehead. "All right, this very fine 
scar at my hairline is one you should remember."

	"Yes, that's where I beaned you with a half full pumpkin pie plate the first 
Thanksgiving we were together." She answered with a laugh remembering that day. He'd 
made her so angry she grabbed the closest thing to her. Which happened to be her 
mother's glass pie plate. She hadn't really meant to hurt him, but the plate shattered 
against his hard head, liberally coating him with the half eaten pie. They were lucky it 
was a small cut.

	"Right you are milady." He smiled, "and if I remember correctly I earned a 
nickname that day."

	She giggled, "You looked so forlorn, glaring at me through the pumpkin with that 
little streak of blood from the cut." She laughed harder, "You looked like a very angry 
jack-o-lantern."

	"Okay, okay, next stop on the humiliate Jeff tour." He said with a sarcastic tone.

	She stopped her laughter and turned as jokingly serious as he was. She let him 
move her hand over his neck and to his chest. He stopped at a nearly unnoticeable scar 
beneath the chest hair on his left breastbone. "Here--"

	"Anthony's dog." She recalled. He'd told her once how as a four year old he was 
pestering the little terrier so much it finally bit him.

	"Yeah, see you know," Jeff exclaimed. "You just wanted an excuse to get your 
hands on my body" As she laughed, he thought that it was good to see the light in her 
eyes again. He placed his hands on each side of her face and tenderly pulled her mouth to 
his. He felt her wrap her arms around him and pull her body against his. "You'll know by 
instinct, darling." he whispered against her lips.

	He turned, mindful of her arm, and lay half over her. "You tell me what you want, 
Hilary. You are in control here."

	"I want you to make love to me, pumpkin." She softly said, "I want to know your 
body again."

	He slowly let his hand wander over her collar bone, passing the scars on her 
shoulder as if they didn't exist. He smiled when she sighed rather than flinched. She lifted 
her hips and allowed him to remove the gown completely.

	He bent and dropped a trail of kisses over her belly and traced the edge of her 
panties with his tongue. She took a deep breath and tangled a hand in his hair. He looked 
to her face, "Are you okay?"

	"Yes," she replied. "I'm fine."

	He gently slid his hands beneath the elastic of her panties and pulled 
them off her legs. He lay his head on her abdomen, now flat, but which had two months 
ago nurtured and protected his daughter and sighed. "I wish you could really know how 
much I cherish you. And how much, more than anything, I missed just holding you like 
this."

	"Jeffrey," she whispered his name through what were now tears of joy and 
sentiment.

	He straightened and moved over her. Jeff lay against her at first, wanting her to 
become accustomed to his body against hers. He wrapped his arms around her back and 
leaned his weight on them.

	Hilary let her hands drift across his back, enjoying the feel of him laying over her. 
A niggling memory threatened to invade, but she pushed it away. No. She wasn't going to 
think of that . . . of the faceless man now. "Jeffrey, please let me see your face. I need to 
see your face."

	He moved his head so she could see then leaned and kissed her. She began to 
move her hips against his in an eager quest to be fulfilled. Jeff looked into her eyes and 
very slowly entered her. He was mindful of any fleeting memory that crossed her 
features. When one did, he stopped his progression and told her that he loved her.

	As she felt her husband being so caring and tender, the bad memories that 
surfaced began to dissipate. They were replaced with the safe and warm feeling that was 
always present when Jeff made love to her. She couldn't stop the tears. She was reminded 
of the first time they had been together. It had been one of the most magical moments of 
her life. She had no idea that a man could make her feel so complete.

	He softly kissed the tears away and hugged her tightly. Jeffrey spoke softly in 
French; words of love and passion. As she responded, he began to move against her in a 
rhythm that only they shared. Her passionate sighs and moans were music to his ears. 
Music that for many months he'd longed to hear.

	He could feel her release building and reacted accordingly. He sped his thrusts, 
until he felt her body tighten as her orgasm moved through her. He lifted his head to 
watch the passion move across her features. She had such an incredible look of bliss on 
her face. She cried his name and moaned as the feelings washed over her.

	As her body began to relax, Hilary felt Jeff's release take control. He thrust had 
against her a few times before he relaxed with a deep satisfied breath. She held him 
tightly, not wanting the feeling to end just then. They lay together for several speechless 
moments before he did finally roll away from her.

	As he did, Jeff noticed the brightening dawn from the window. The red and gold 
hues of the sunrise caught his eye. He sat, reached over the head board and pulled open 
the curtain. "Mittens, look at this."

	She sat and leaned against his shoulder as they watched the sun rise above the 
horizon and through the clouds. Hilary turned to Jeff and told him that she felt that they 
too had risen above the clouds. "I was afraid that we'd never be the same again," she said, 
"But now, I know that we can live with what happened to me and not lose each other in 
the process."

	Jeff let the curtain drop back closed and cupped her chin in his hand, "Hilary 
Winslow Booth will you marry me again?"

	She laughed, "No! I've already married you three times Mr. Singer. Why don't we 
just skip the wedding and go for a walk in the park."

	He grinned, "Sorry it's this place. We come here and I feel like I have to marry 
you."

	Hilary turned serious, "Thank you Jeffrey. Thank you for making me laugh when 
I needed to and for making me feel loved when I needed it."

	Jeff tapped a fingertip against her nose and then stood, "I'm going to shower 
before we take that walk in the park. Care to join me, Mrs. Singer?"

	She thought for a moment, "Yes. I think I will."


	The trip to Mexico had turned out to be a good idea. Hilary felt truly rejuvinated 
and happy for the first time in months. She and Jeff spent many a day walking through 
the old town district of Matamoros. She laughed as she told Jeff that as many times as 
they had been there, they had never actually done any exploring in town. He'd reminded 
her that they usually spent their time there exploring each other.

	She found a small shop that carried dolls and decided that her little girl needed a 
doll. Nevermind that she wouldn't be able to play with it for some time yet. She just 
thought that Anjeanette needed one.

	Jeff stood patiently behind her as she painstakingly searched. He enjoyed 
watching her pick, hoping eventually she'd choose. A small bedraggled looking baby doll 
caught his eye. She had a shock of brown hair, her dress was a handmade patchwork of 
scraps and she had the barest hint of a smile. What struck him the most about the doll was 
she seemed to have a very determined look in her painted brown eyes. In an odd way the 
doll reminded him of Hilary.

	He turned to make sure Hilary's back was still to him and that she was lost in a 
fancily dressed group of dolls. Knowing that she'd still be a while, he motioned for the 
shopkeeper. He handed the man the doll, paid for her and asked that he wrap her up so 
Hilary would not see. The man nodded and rushed to the back.

	"Are you nearly finished?" Jeff asked Hilary as he approached her.

	She jumped slightly at the sudden voice behind her, but turned and smiled, 
"They're all so lovely I hate to choose."

	"Hmm, well I chose for you." he held up the sack. "Why don't we go and get 
some dinner. I'm starved." he said as he led her to the door.

	The shopkeeper thanked them as they left.

	"What did you get?" Hilary asked.

	"A doll." he replied vaguely.

	"Jeffrey."

	"Hilary," he laughed as he mimicked her tone. "Come-on. Lets get back to La 
Casa. I am really hungry."

	"You and your stomach."


	Hilary had loved the doll. Jeff may not buy the extravagant and expensive gifts, 
she thought, he sure could be counted on for gifts from the heart. She couldn't wait to 
give the doll to Anjeanette.

	He'd given the doll to her on the night of their anniversary. Telling her that look in 
it's eyes had reminded him of the determined look that her eyes had held in the last few 
healing months.

	He'd kissed her and just held her tightly as the radio announcer counted down the 
last ten seconds of 1942. Both were bittersweet about seeing it end. It had been a year 
that had begun with hope, held a nightmare, given birth to their daughter and ended with 
a promise of a new beginning.


	Once back in Pittsburgh, Hilary vowed that soon she would be able to conquer 
that troll near O'Malley's.  She'd called Joe and Rosie and asked that they not come to see 
the baby. She wanted to take Anjeanette to see them. Several times in the next three 
months they had started down the street, but were unable to get past the first corner.

	Finally on March 13th, the one year anniversary of her attack, Hilary 
announced to Jeff that she wanted to go to the pub.

	"Darling, I know what today is. Are you sure you want to do this?" Jeff asked her.

	"Pumpkin, today of all days is when I should go." she insisted. "In the light of day 
when Joe and Rosie are the only people there. I need to do this."

	Jeff sighed and gave in. "If you feel you are ready, Hilary, we will go."

	"Thank you Jeff," she smiled. "Help me get Angel bundled for the visit."


	Before they left the house, Jeff called the O'Malley's to make sure they were in. 
The pub itself was closed on Sundays but usually the couple was there making sure their 
stock was replenished and ordered for the coming week.

	As they walked closer, Hilary's stomach began to knot. She held tightly to Jeff's 
hand and to the baby. She had to stop a few times to catch her breath.

	Finally they approached the alley and Hilary stopped as if she'd hit an invisible 
wall. Jeff could feel her shaking as she leaned against him for support.

	"Do you want to cross the street?" He suggested. "We can go around the alley."

	"No!" She quickly answered. "I am going to do this." She closed her eyes and 
took a small step forward. Hilary stood almost expectantly and then slowly opened her 
eyes. She expelled the breath she'd been unconsciously holding and looked into the alley. 
She saw nothing but trash cans, gravel and a few discarded bottles. There was no 
monster. No man ready to leap at her. It was nothing more sinister than a simple alley. 
Taking a deep breath, she squared her jaw and almost defiantly walked the rest of the 
way to the front door of O'Malley's on her own. She smiled, turned to Jeff and asked if he 
was going to come with her or stand staring at her all day.


	The two couples had a very enjoyable visit. Rosie as usual lavished much 
attention onto her namesake. Attention which Angel of course reveled in. She smiled and 
giggled truly enjoying her role as the center of attention.

	While the older couple played with the baby, Hilary walked to the door, opened it 
and stared pensively at the alleyway.

	Jeff walked up behind her and lay a caring hand on her shoulder. "Penny for your 
thoughts."

	"I'd like to go into the alley." She answered, "I need to see--"

	"Maybe we could save that for another day."

	"No. I need to do it now. Otherwise I'll never get past the alley again."

	"All right. Let me tell Joe that we'll be right back."

	Jeff asked the O'Malley's to keep watch on the baby while they went to fight 
Hilary's demons. Rosie clasped his hand and assured him that Hilary would be all right.

	"I know that Rosie. I know."


	Hilary clutched Jeff's hand tightly as they walked to the mouth of the alley. She 
ran her hand along the wall, stopping where the bricks ended. She squeezed the corner so 
tightly her knuckles lost their color. Finally she loosened her hold when the shoulder 
muscle protested.

	"Why don't we do this another time," Jeff suggested.

	She shook her head, "I just need to dive in, like a cold swimming pool." She took 
a deep breath and rounded the corner.

	Once in, she let go of Jeff's hand and walked to about where she thought the 
attack happened. She crouched down and touched the cold cement, remembering the feel 
of it on her skin. She looked up and saw the blue strip of sky between the two buildings. 
There had been no stars that night. It was if she'd been in an inky void.

	She looked again at the ground. There were no traces of the attack. The blood had 
been washed away by a year's worth of rain and snow. The rocks moved by garbage 
trucks going in and out of the alley. For all intents and purposes it looked as though it had 
never happened. But it had. It would be a nightmare she would have to live with for the 
rest of her life.

	Standing again, she looked at her husband almost guarding the entrance to the 
alley and smiled. She knew at this very moment that she would be able to live with it. 
They would be able to live with it and go on.

	Before joining Jeff, she took one more look at the scene. Something green tucked 
beneath a group of pebbles against the wall caught her eye. She went to it and picked it 
up. It was a piece of torn fabric from the dress she had worn that night; a large enough 
piece to cover her hand. It too had survived the year. She closed her hand around it 
tightly and took it with her.


	
	Epilogue

	That tattered piece of material became a symbol to Hilary. She folded it and 
placed it into a gold locket that she wore every day. Whenever she needed the strength to 
get herself through an especially low day, she would take the material out and remember.

	She would remember how in her darkest moments she found a strength in herself 
she never knew existed. Remember that her husband never left her side in through any of 
the ups and especially the downs. And she would look into the bright brown eyes of her 
daughter and say a small thank you to whatever strength her little soul found to live.

The End